Looking good, on the outside.

As is evident from this little old blog falling by the wayside, I have been in a state of thoughts all in my head and too scared  for them to be in the written word.  I may have looked to others that I have everything under control.  But I have almost being paralysed with responsibility.  Ruminating over and over about making the right decisions for our family.  This state of perseveration (thanking you Jane) has sapped me of creative confidence and energy.

Choices that I have made have affected other people.   I often feel so indebted to many and feel pushed and pulled in so many ways.  I feel it deeply.  It makes me tired and then I get cranky and irritable.

Essentially I like to keep our home life simple.  Less is certainly more.  We like a wholesome life, living by the seasons and taking our joy from nature and all its gifts.  We live in one of the most beautiful towns of Australia.  Wallabies hop by our front gate.  Tawny frog mouths sit outside our door to sleep during the day.  I hear the ocean from my verandah.  We are safe and well nourished.

The young boy above, his eyes bear the truth, they ask me for my very best.  Every moment, my actions will be how I will be remembered.  Will he forgive me?  Will he say one day "I hate you"?.

At least 10 times a day or more, now, he says over and over again " I love you Mummy"  He also asks me, when I must have that frown line on my forehead, a face of worry and tension, "Mum, are you happy ?"

You see, I have just found this whole thing quite hard.  Relentless.  Simple things like just getting out the door without feeling like a crazy witch.  The struggle to fasten the straps of the child car seat.  Make lunch for preschool days.  Stare at the fridge and wander what to cook.  The struggle with daytime sleeps.  Agonising over putting my son into daycare.  (And now which bloody school).  And the worst time of my parenting, toilet training.  The simple things of motherhood have exhausted me.

On the other hand, diagnosing some rare neurological disorder, glimpsing abnormal pathology and acting promptly, no worries.

I know it is the cliche of the older professional Mother syndrome.  And being caught between ageing frail parents who cannot be around to help.

I just wanted to put out there, I hope I have never made someone else feel less, because I looked like I have more.  That I have looked good , but inside  I am screaming.

At this moment, the house is all quiet.  Night has fallen.  The owl is calling out across the valley.  Che had fallen asleep on the couch after family daycare without any dinner.  I accidentally trapped his finger in the car door this morning as we were jostling to get into the car.  He had a big cry and looked at me with those big innocent eyes.  I fretted most of the day, feeling bad that I still took him to childcare.  I called mid morning to see if he was ok.  I mentioned how bad I felt to Heidi, our family daycare Mum as I came to pick him up.  Heidi said, he hasn't even mentioned it all day.

I am blessed with this life.  I get to live it.   Big deep breaths.  Everything will be ok.

Linking in with Maxabella, on her rewind linky today.

wild things

Father's Day weekend found us feeling really happy.  We are the A team. I feel very proud that we have made this working sojourn a success so far.  All the planning and scheduling aside.  We have been having fun.

Driving out west on Father's Day we were greeted by Brumbies and Camels.  Dada,  of course cannot help himself.  He has a way with horses.  We had some carrots to share with them.  Although I started to feel a bit twitchy when they surrounded the car.  Somehow Dada thinks camels are cute!  I just seem to remember them from a camel trek in the Rajastan Desert as snotty, foul mouthed farting ass licking creatures that are impossible to ride for 3 days straight without getting huge grazes on your bum.

 
We found a great camping ground. Penrose Park.  I have not seen these type of old swings for ages.

I am feeling good about work because I feel that I am working where I belong, I guess.  Not necessarily Broken Hill, but in an enthusiastic team really commited to improving the health of our countrymen and women and children.  It is a challenge to operate on many levels and have different projects all going on at once.  I am honoured to be here and appreciated.

But there is always some grief when I  leave in the morning.  We all had such a great weekend.  As we were pulling up to my workplace on Monday morning, our little man was very quiet.  He knew I was about to leave.  It really got to me.  No screeching or thrashing around or loud protests of not getting what he wants.  His eyes just welled up in tears and he looked away.   A long kiss on his soft sweet cheek.  I said my goodbye and a cheery "Have a good day with Daddy.  Love you".

I called half an hour later.  They were all running around Sturt Park having fun.

                          I think of you all day, my sweet handsome boy.

The Piano Slapping Scene

grateful for - being a sixties rock child and loving this song

For you,  my son and all the other sweet kiddos (young and old) of this world.

xx.

More gratefuls here.

a frosty day turns warm and glowing

Oh how the mornings are now so chilly.  The earth is all frosted over but the skies are clear and the air is crisp.  I awoke feeling a bit of an ache.  We all have our own burdens.  There is always a story that is deep and often difficult for others to understand fully or to come to terms with.  There is sadness, loss and hardship.   There is pain and illness and hardest of all injustice and cruelty.  I used to think I had to rise up against all of this.  But it makes everything so much of a struggle.

I am slowly learning that being creative is the remedy for the soul.  Loosing yourself in something that really makes you joyous.  Being at one with the moment.  Finding your inner radiance and shining.

ps. I love you Mum.

anchors

I have a confession to make.  As I look back over the many chapters of my life so far.  Hopefully half of my time here.  I realise there have been women in my life that I have anchored myself upon.  Women with whom I have identified deeply and then thrived on the essence of them.  Their creativity, their courage and resilience.  Their witty sense of humour and their ability to rise up against sorrow and misfortune.  I have secretly wanted to be them.  Perhaps even had a funny little crush on them. 

When I don't have women in my life that affect me so, I feel so lost.  Perhaps that is what I feel I absorb from this blog world.  All up it is one big best girlfriend that I can lean on and anchor myself to.  This probably sounds a bit sad but  I have moved around so much and lost contact with so many wonderful women.  Now being a forty something mother of a very active, loud and boisterous although adorable little boy and uprooted myself into yet another place.  Well I am so glad to have this space.

I just wanted to give an kiss and hug to those women in my life that have inspired me and helped me get out of bed in the morning.  If those women ever read this they will know who they are.

Have you had those anchors?  How have they shaped you?

mass breast-feeding sit in and self love

Mass breastfeeding protest at Lifeline Asquith - Local News - News - Hornsby & Upper North Shore Advocate

Above is the link to an article regarding an email I received about a breast feeding sit in protest encouraging people to attend earlier in the week.  The sit in was 3 hours away so it was not possible to attend.  Really glad it all worked out well and positive in the end.

Thinking today it all really does just begin with self love doesn't it.  From there compassion, sincerity, patience and getting joy out of daily life follows.

mr puss and jake - grateful for

I know this blog has dog's reining supreme but the master of the household used to be mr puss.  He was my first baby.  My first pet since leaving home.  After years of being petless with doing 2 degrees and living in college and then shared student accomodation in Melbourne, I started working as a junior dr in a hospital in Sydney.  This little boy was a forlorn kitten found in a litter abandoned at the back of the carpark.  I responded to a hand written ad on the staff notice board and took him home to my flat in Waverton.  What a mr personality he was.  That perculiar trait of the feline to be aloof and contained and then ever so smoochy and loving.  He was so uncompromising.  This is who I am and I dont give a stuff.  He was the best ratter.  He would line them up in neat rows.  I have lost count in the number of house moves I have done, I think perhaps 35.  He has gone walkabout and being missing for a few months when he must of got jack of what was  going down.  Only to reappear, either living life in the drains evidently, all skin and bone, or otherwise living the high life with a Polish Jewish pensioner.   When we finally left the Northern Territory my  dear Mother opened her house and accepted him and his comrade and fully embraced his wayward ways.  Here he became the retired old gent.  A wise feline soul and would often not make an appearence until later in the day , venturing out from underneath the doona and demand a feed and then cuddle up top of the sofa until oh yes bedtime again.  He passed away a year ago, a ripe 16 years.

And then there was Jake.  Sweet beautiful ginger boy.  Obviously was feeling clucky and got pussy cat number 2 , spotting him all alone in pet shop window.  One of my many impulsive purchases.  By now was living in house in Artarmon, junior resident, coping with night shift and ever increasing anxiety of what had I got myself into.  Was thinking of leaving medicine altogether.  Jake was the gentle half of the dynamic duo.  Even tempered.  Constantly seeking your love and approval.  Much loved by labrador and slightly teased by cavoodle.  He made a great comrade with mr puss.  For 2 male cats to get on so well, was all due to Jake.  You know that type of pussycat that follows you out to the clothes line.  He lies across your morning newspaper, and sits on arond your neck whilst watching the tele.  He did go missing twice.  Both times adopted by another family who wanted to claim him as their own.  My Mother loved him so much.  She cared for both pussycats for the last 5 years.  He passed away last week, 15 years of age.

A special note to my Mother for embracing these two rogues and and making their final days full of love and warmth.  My Mother, Mrs Dolittle.

Keen to read other's thoughts today.  Join Maxabella and her hosting sister for bundle full of gratefullness.

faith - getting to know her

     
Trusting your instincts when you dont quite fit in.

Going with the flow .   Not judging.

So nice not to be in a hurry.  For some time now  felt I was running.

Find my own race.

Notice that someone is watching and learning.

Good things do come to those that wait.

the year that was for me

The last year fed and fed and fed and fed my baby all day and all night all year; finished off renovating my first home; lived very frugally trying to make ends meet; squeezed in a bit of doctoring; harvested my last vegie crop from my own home; worried too much on trying to get everything right; listened as much as I was able; started a blog and have been constantly inspired by fellow bloggers;have had no more than 2 hours sleep at a stretch; sold my home  without an agent in 3 days; met some other pretty cool Mamas; gave notice and said goodbye to great work colleagues; moved house one handed; decluttered; started a new job one morning a week; have been a bit demanding of Marty; started to cook again; found new places to do walkies with doggies;missed people had only just started to know; studied late into the night; examined for Diploma of child health; had a little holiday by the sea;  remembered how to crochet by just picking up a hook and wool after about 30 years;had christmas with my baby boy and loving Man and wonderful family.

No solid new year resolutions for me , maybe just to be me and to cuddle my boy.

SECRET LOVE

Now playing along with Alison's rewind.http://lifeinapinkfibro.blogspot.com/2011/04/weekend-rewind-special-wedding-edition.html