Before children came along I lived a great life. I had a moment of depression (make that a year) but on the whole my life was fantastic (the power of hind sight). 5am morning runs to the Brisbane river with my soul mate, a job I loved waking up to in the morning with colleagues I could laugh for hours with, weekend drives to NSW and a sister close by to hangout with on weekends. Continue reading
How to Speak ‘parent’ and ‘Internet parent’
Becoming a parent opens you up to a whole new world of vocabulary. Before you know it you’ll be dream-feeding your LO while DD1 is self-settling (thanks to that CIO method you used). Being a STM is so much easier than being a FTM, unless your DS2 happens to suffer from GERD…at least that’s what your CHN seems to think.
…and if you understood all that without even blinking, you don’t need this! Or maybe you do, just for the fun of reflecting on how thoroughly immersed in this world and language of parenting you are. It’s good to laugh at ourselves.
There’s something difficult about moving to a new place in the twilight of your 20s. I’m sure it’s difficult at any time in your life, but in my circumstance I’ve noticed a few things that made finding friends a difficult task now I’m 32.
By 30, the majority of my friends were married, buying, bought or building a house and making babies. Time is preciously divided between immediate family, domestic duties, work, extended family (if your lucky) and those close friendships formed in the more carefree time-filled glory of our 20s.
I have those friends. But they’re now 4240km away on the other side of Australia. Continue reading
**Another unfinished/unpublished draft post I’ve re-worked.
Curly sits in the back of the car crying. She’s devastated. I’ve decided not to be ‘Anna’, and for now, on this short shopping trip to IGA, I want to call Curly by her real name, not ‘Elsa’. And I’m sure when Immy is old enough to understand, she’ll also object to being called ‘Olaf’.
Twenty minutes later as we pull back up to the house and walk inside, out comes the ‘swishy’ dress and cape, and Curly is once again yelling at the top of her lungs…”let the storm rage ONNNN!”.
Fast forward one year later… Continue reading
**This is an older post I forgot to publish! Curly is now 4.5 and I see that pre-frontal cortex development making strides in emotional regulation :). Time to practice what I preach with number 2.
You know when number 1 comes along, and everyone wants to give you advice? I was like, “butt out, I’ve got this, I’ll work it out on my own thanks!” or maybe that was just me. Now? Number 1 is 3.5 and I’ll sidle up to strangers if there’s a chance for some free parenting 101. I thought I’d prepared her well with boundaries and consequences…but nothing quite prepared me for being screamed at by a little red face with clenched fists, “NO! NO! NO!” Continue reading
For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires.
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything here. My brain has been playing catch up to my life for the past six months, and the tension that’s created has meant sitting down and forming a cohesive blog post that I actually believe in is difficult. There’s about five draft posts waiting to be published, covering friendships, three year old tantrums and clingy 18month olds, but I started then couldn’t face making them public. Continue reading