Things better left unsaid…

It goes without saying…

Or well it used to.

Now everything is said, ALL THE TIME.

So it is with much pleasure that I am pleased to announce that I have resisted the urge to blog about how I bought a pair of shoes and then took them back and bought new ones.

I have refrained from writing a movie review for the French film that I saw. I was going to write one about Happiness never comes alone but just because I wanted you all to know that I watch French films and therefore am actually totes intellectual. (Mission accomplished?)

And lastly I have rejected the need to write about my new cat. Because she is actually just a cat. And I have come to the understanding that while she is very cute and walks funny sometimes this is actually only of interest to me and my family.

So there.

There is a list of things that have gone without saying…

Sort of.

Fatigue, anxiety, overwhelmed or just too much of today?

Sometimes it comes in like a wave and sometimes like a brick to the head.

Here it comes now. Taking me over. If it lets me sleep I’ll be better in the morning when my responsibilities wake me up and demand breakfast and attention.

I have no idea why it’s coming again but it has taken away my appetite and called me fat and ugly.

It says I’m not good enough and that I never will be.

I can see it even though I’m in it.

How strange.

Like a mist rolling in that only comes up to my knees but strands me where I am like an island without the palm trees.

My head is in two places. Watching and being.

A craving.

Tell it to stop.

Ask it to be gentle.

*My 3 year old is up way past bedtime. My 5 year old has been waking up just after 5am. But it’s all good. Gotta find more little things to appreciate tomorrow though*

Learning from pain…

So it’s the first week back at work after the holidays.

I am a preschool teacher and the first week back is hard. Everyone is tired. The kids are tired and out of routine. I have grown unaccustomed to the sound of my alarm clock. The coffee isn’t working.

When I walked into work on Monday morning the first thing my assistant said to me was “You look very, very tired. Not good.”

Thank you so much I thought (but maybe not with the word thank).

But instead I agreed. I had not been afforded the luxury of sleep ins and walks along the beach because when I’m on holidays from other people’s children I have my own full time.

So I took her honest observation in the way it was intended… as an honest observation.

The lady I work with is 15 years older than me and very lovely but we have a slight culture clash from time to time. Every now and then she says something and I think before I speak (partly because she is constantly talking over the top of me) but mainly because I know in her heart she means well.

(FYI Thinking before you speak is not the same as not thinking it at all.)

So today when she told me that my pants were ugly and that they made me look fat I smiled… on the outside.

She grew up in a country that was engulfed in a bloody civil war for most of her life. When she talks about home she says “in my country”.

She has lived here for over 20 years. She is married with a daughter who is nearly 9. She has strange customs and uses the most beautiful expressions.

When a colleague of mine was rude to me not long ago this lady cornered me in the kitchen, rubbed her fist up and down her sternum (is that the bony bit in the middle? I’ve series linked Grey’s Anatomy but don’t have time to watch it) and said to me “It’s paining you what she said isn’t it?”

And it was.

So I don’t let her words pain me because her actions are kind.

I didn’t let it pain me today when she said I looked fat because she didn’t mean it.

Just like the time she bought the wrong colour hair dye at the supermarket because she forgot her glasses and dyed her grey roots blue. The image of this is the kind of thing that I think about at funerals when I’m trying (and failing) to be stoic.

Some people mean well all the time.

I aspire to be one of those people so if I ever “pain you” please let me know.

With friends like these… I’ll be okay.

Well would you look at that…

I just had the most delightful dinner with a friend that I haven’t seen for close to 5 years.

She is gorgeous this lady. Inside and out.

We chatted over the spinach lamb dish.

I walked her to the tram stop and we hugged.

We talked about lots of things. We seem to be feeling a lot of the same things. We share the same frustrations.

We also both know that we’re incredibly lucky to have what we have.

And what do we have?

We have healthy happy children who drive us mad with their idiosyncrasies and neediness but fill our hearts with love… usually when they’re asleep.

We have husbands who work hard and travel lots to provide for their families but are good at what they do and let us know that we’re loved.

We have dreams of more and desires to be better than just mothers and wives but we know that we’re doing okay.

So what do I know now that I didn’t know 3 hours ago?

I know that I’m okay. That I’m not alone. That friends are worth their weight in gold even if you have to get on a plane to see them. That people who are like you and listen to you and make you laugh are a gift to be treasured.

And whether its a friend from far away or a friend who brings you bolognese or a friend who laughs at you because you’re up late with your cat watching cricket, friends are precious.

I was asked today who my friends are and I said that I wasn’t sure anymore.

But they seem to know who I am and are doing a damn good job of looking after me and for that I’m thankful.

From little things I make molehills…

You know the sayings “don’t sweat the small stuff” and “don’t worry about the little things”. (Or something like that, whatever.)

Yeah well I’m awesome at both. I don’t just sweat the small stuff I bathe in it. (Ewwwww! I totally do not bathe in sweat by the way.)

I find something small to worry about, plant it in a terra cotta pot and nurture those small seedlings until they flourish into something really worth worrying about.

Today I had an appointment at 10am. I was so nervous that I wouldn’t find a car park that I felt like throwing up. I was worried about the coffee being of poor quality and that I wouldn’t have the right change for the meter.

I got a park right out the front. Right out the front!!! I had the right change. And the coffee? Well 2 out of 3 ain’t bad.

So it turns out that I worried about things that I didn’t need to worry about.

That worries me.

My 5 year old son got his first school report recently. It said that he sometimes over reacts and cries instead of asking the teacher for help.

I wonder where gets that from.

I asked him today if he ever gets worried about little things.

He said yes. “Are you talking about Lego men because they can easily fall out of your pocket?”

So I should try not to worry about the little things… or get some pockets with zips.