Steering myself…

You know when you get a song line stuck in your head but it’s out of context.

You only know that one line so you spend hours, no days, no weeks singing until it becomes your mantra.

It becomes you.

“So hold this feeling like a newborn child”.

It’s a line from a Missy Higgins song. It’s called Steer and I like that the line stuck in my head is from one of her songs.

(I googled it and it’s something to do with freedom and being able to steer yourself in your own direction.)

But for me in my head it’s about living in the moment or relishing the moment or spreading relish.

It’s about recognising the good and looking at it like it’s something terribly precious and worthy of being treasured.

So I’m opening up my shoulders, sticking out my boobs and filling up my lungs full of air and peace and life.

And breathing out through the headaches and the mess and the noise and the grouchiness and all that stuff.

I wish that I had more patience.

Can you buy it somewhere or get an app on your phone that allows you not to take it all so personally?

It’s been two weeks since I was worried about “hell week” and now I just want my head to stop hurting.

But instead I’ll keep holding onto the good feelings like a newborn child, quietly and gently.

Yeah that’s it, gently. I’m being gentle to me.

Be gentle to yourself too. xx

P.S You know what rhymes with headache? Jumping castle.

Worry wart…

“No worries mate.”

“She’ll be right.”

Both lovely sayings used often by Australians on a daily basis.

But sometimes hard to believe.

Sometimes I do worry about things.

I worry about things that “normal” people wouldn’t worry about.

In the past I have worried about the amount of drinks available at a party. I worried so much that I nearly didn’t go to the party.

I stress about social things. Who will be there? Who won’t be there? Who will I be? The loud, silly me or the quiet me?

Yes. There is a quiet me.

There is a scripture in the bible that says to be anxious for nothing.
Because God knows all things.

This brings me some comfort but at the same time I know that Jesus didn’t have to try and find a car park at the shops the week before Christmas.

Little things push me over the edge.

Worrying about things that might never happen is a massive waste of my time and my joy.

But it’s part of me.

A part of me that is so much better than it used to be but I understand how others can be crushed under the weight of anxiety.

I can understand not being able to breathe under the weight of a eleven million little things each on its own weighing less than a feather.

It’s a personal thing and things that seem ridiculous and insignificant to some can debilitate others.

So just a shout out to those who are worrying about things that haven’t happened yet or upset about things that can be easily fixed.

It’s okay. Or it’s okay not to be okay.

But today I’m looking forward to the jumping castle at work tomorrow with 50 four year olds because what could possibly go wrong?


Tuesday news day…

It’s Tuesday and I’m okay.

No that’s not the name of my new album not to be released just in time for Christmas.

It’s a fact.

I have been feeling quite loved and supported. Probably because I am.

Monday was a showdown day at work where egos collided and I baked scones with the lemonade recipe.

I spent the hours between 5 and 7 listening to ways that I can improve my teaching and encourage language.

I may or may not have used the 10 minute break to come up with creative but inappropriate scenarios for the picture below.


I got home and kids were awake but ready for bed and I was awarded the welcome that comes with returning home right on bed time.

This morning I got up and found the missing belt that goes with my blue dress and off I went to work.

My key wouldn’t open the security door and for just a minute I thought I might just turn around and go home but instead I went round the back and opened up from there.

I made porridge and danced alone to Kokomo on the radio.

(The previous sentence would look great on my tombstone if you get stuck for ideas.)

I unpacked chairs from the small shed, saw my very first and very large red back spider and ran screaming back into the room.

The class was settled and we had fun.

One parent told me that I looked good in my blue dress and another said that she would miss me next year.

Kind words working their magic.

I stopped and bought the hot, grumpy kids an ice cream on the way home and we had a swim with the kids from across the road.

There were some tears and tantrums regarding trampoline etiquette but they weren’t mine.

A mostly calm mood and voice has served me well so far this week.

Bring on the farm animals and the duck face selfies with ducks tomorrow.


P.S Yeah, I know this reads as more of a diary page than a blog post but I figured you might be interested and if you weren’t then you should have stopped reading by now.

We’re just taking it one week at a time…

Oh hell week… How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.

This is my big crazy work week for the year.

My head is full of gremlins screaming my name and reminding me of all the things that need to be done and all the bad moods, silent treatments and anguish that my colleagues will share with me.

I have a Professional Development session tomorrow after work, I have farm animals and a committee meeting Wednesday and it all culminates with going to work (unpaid) on Saturday where I give my annual report and be as bubbly as a freshly opened bottle of lemonade to 60 strangers.

(This is all on top of the actual teaching and caring for a large group of 4 year olds that my job description dictates.)

This is the week that saw me end up in the nut house a few years ago.

I don’t yet know half the things that can and will go wrong.

There will be surprises and Transition Statements to chase up and an Emergency Management Plan that I need to finalise and send off too.

Sooooooo… Come at me with distractions please.

Come at me with chocolate and coffee.

Come at me with kindness please and patience and good thoughts.

Another thing that I know is that my hell week will not be like the coming week for those around the world affected by terrorists and their weapons.

My week will drain my brain but leave me and my family safe.

This week I’m asking for your support but I’m also going to give it.

I’ll be giving it to the children at my work and their families who because of the actions of a few awful individuals in Paris will find themselves falling under a general umbrella of hate.

My beautiful friend who gets stared at wearing her hijab wasn’t in Paris on Friday 13th November but she will hear the murmurs and be glared at because of the actions of a few who claim to share her religion.

The mother of one of the girls in my class is coming in to measure me for a gold dress she wants to make me. Why? I don’t know but I know that it’s a form of kindness and I’ll along with it. Every conversation we have finishes with Inshallah or Allah willing.

So Inshallah, God willing, fingers crossed and with a lot of luck that we all get through this week together.