Failing passionately…

In my last post I wrote a little about how I’d lost my options.

My option for joining the army seems to be lost due family life but I might still be able to squeeze in a pottery class.

I googled one actually. Friday mornings at 9:30. Hmmmm.

Anyways another thing I seem to have lost is my passion.

I went to the football with my kids today. Well I actually went to the football to meet my Dad and pick up my youngest son who had spent the night at his house.

I used to LOVE watching footy and going to the footy but now I’d rather be at home.

It all seems like a lot of effort and when you get there you are surrounded by a lot of people who seem to think that the game is a matter of life and death.

It’s not for me.

It used to be though.

I used to scream and yell and hurl abuse with the best of them.

Now when the players miss a goal or the umpire makes a bad call I feel sorry for them. They are trying their best. Does that give me the right to berate them. Does paying an entry fee to a sporting event give me the right to boo and hiss?

I don’t know. It doesn’t seem very sporting to complain the whole time. The whinge when the players kick it backward to a team mate but also whinge when they kick it forward and lose possession.

Logic says you can’t have it both ways.

The coffee is bad. The food is expensive and it’s cold.

I used to watch the football with my mum in the pouring rain and hail.

It’s not fun anymore.

I’ve lost my passion for other things too.

I get a little defeated by other people’s talent and forget to try.

I would love to be really good at something but I don’t seem to be.

But hey life is a contact sport.

You gotta roll with the punches and stay in the game.

You’ve got to be in it to win it.

Failure isn’t an option.

Just do it.

Or… don’t I guess.

But maybe don’t let the fear of being mediocre stop you from being happy with trying your best.

xx

Options…

It’s Friday afternoon.

I’ve done two loads of washing, vacuumed and mopped the floors, emptied the cat litter and kitchen bin and made bolognese in the slow cooker.

I’m reading my book now. The afternoon sun is glorious and I’m in bed with socks on.

I’m also considering joining the Army and/or a bikie gang.

Well I would if I had enough energy.

I love the idea of getting my adventure on but truth be told I’m exhausted after having done very little.

Not sure I’d survive Army induction and I can’t ride a motor bike.

What are my options?

Will I ever have options again?

Who took my options?
Maybe I’ll just join a pottery class instead. That sounds infinitely more doable.

Hit me up if you want a wonky mug.

xx

Blessed be…

It says in the bible “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God”.

I hope that’s true.

But at my house right now the peacemaker is sick of being the one who keeps the peace.

My kids are fighting a lot. It’s not uncommon for children to do this. It’s incredibly annoying though.

My husband is very angry at the fighting children and their inability to listen to his commands.

I have spent most of the weekend absorbing the negative and being the positive.

It’s exhausting.

My 6 year old punched his 8 year old brother in the head. He screamed and ran around the house and then kicked his 6 year old brother is his wobbly teeth.

There was blood. There were teeth. There were harsh words spoken.

As an added bonus there were also stunned in-laws sitting on the couch pretending to be invisible.

AWKWARD.

And there was me. Making everyone apologise. Explaining that we don’t hurt people. It’s not kind.

Blah, blah, blah.

Blessed may be the peacemaker but she also needs a holiday, a nap and hell of a lot of chocolate.

 

xx

Duck faced restraint…

Last night I had a dream that I was remarrying my husband.

In the dream I think we’d had a fight so decided to remarry as a grand make up gesture.

Anyways… I love the things you remember from dreams. Things that make no sense. Such as my mother insisting that I wear a red skivvy under my wedding dress to keep my arms warm.

This strange thought has made me giggle today.

I remember seeing girls at church formals wearing beige bras with their backless dresses.

And I have seen a photo of a girl wearing a bra with a strapless bridesmaid dress.

People are strange and strange things amuse me.

I spent some quality time with my 6.5 year old son today. I finished it with a headache roughly the size of the afore mentioned child.

He is precious and beautiful and lovely.

And annoying as hell.

We went to my nieces birthday party on a farm today and I didn’t take a duck face selfie with a duck so I am obviously a better person that I used to be.

That could actually be on my resume it is such an accomplishment.

It’s Saturday night and I am the first one in family in my pjs.

So today was a win.

xx

Resting thoughts…

What is your resting brain thinking?

Sometimes when my brain winds down from thinking a billion other things it rests on dark thoughts.

My psychologist said that you don’t just stop having dark thoughts but that you can stop acting on them.

So I can function well all day and then when I’m all peaceful and such these thoughts come back.

I hope that one day these resting thoughts will be more pleasant but it’s strange isn’t it?

My default setting is still a little on the crazy side.

I wouldn’t mind having a reset button.

Just a clean slate brain dump.

I’ve been drinking lots of healthy juices. Cleansing my tummy.

(FYI Those kale smoothies tastes like crap.)

Would be nice to cleanse my thoughts. Go back to when things were easy and light.

I’m doing really well.

I’m quite happy and full of energy. (Probably because of the juices.)

I’m okay. I hope you’re okay too and that your resting thoughts are gentle and kind to you.

xx

Hard times sometimes get better…

Here comes that small cloud floating over me. Blocking out a little bit of the sun. Leaving me feeling a little bit chilly.

Metaphorically speaking that is.

Things are okay. But they’re not perfect.

Things cannot be perfect though can they?

So things are actually far from perfect and I’m having a mid mood swing crisis.

I don’t know that I know what happy looks like so how will I know if I am happy?

Last week was so freaking full on and draining.

I was left despairing at the end and asking if it takes a village to raise a child then where is my effing village?

My husband adores me and constantly tells me what a wonderful mother I am.

Usually via text from interstate.

He travels a lot. It’s okay but it’s not. It makes my life a hell of a lot more complicated.

And while I know that he is working hard and not just swanning about in hotels ordering room service I would have killed for a good nights sleep last week.

But this is a new week.

And I am okay. Maybe even better than okay.

Because I am loved. xx

P.S My son just told me while hugging me that a hug is a symbol of like. Which has made my day.

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Weekend adventures…

On Saturday I drove 3.5 hours with a I’ve known for years but never spent that much time with.

I was nervous that we’d run out of things to say. That it would be awkward.

It wasn’t.

We stayed with another friend in the most amazing location with fresh air and a huge sky.

The stars were bigger, brighter and closer and I had a huge bed all to myself.

It really doesn’t get much better than that.

Unless you throw in lovely conversation, compassion, kindness and empathy.

And chocolate by the row.

The effect on my soul and my psyche was huge.

The was peace everywhere and it got in me.

There were birds and leaves and supposedly deer but I didn’t see any evidence of them.

Even when I honked really loudly in what I thought to be a damn good imitation of a mating call.

I left home at 9am Saturday and got home after 4pm in Sunday.

It was then that I discovered that my youngest son had banged his top two teeth playing at the park on Saturday.

They were very wobbly but didn’t come out. They’re baby teeth and the emergency dentist appointment on Monday morning reassured us that they’ll fall out soon and the permanent ones should be okay.

My husband didn’t tell me because he didn’t want me to be worried.

I reminded him that I’m great at worrying and when it comes to the kids teeth I’d rather know.

So here’s to good times, girls weekends and wobbly teeth.

May there be more.