Grateful For...Gratitude!

This week marks the two year anniversary of 'Gratefuls' over at Maxabella Loves (and now at Kidspot).
Bron's throwing a little par-tay, so you should pop in.


I love throwing my two cents worth towards the 'Gratitude Love In' that happens at the end of each week.


This 'Grateful' happens to be my 50th grateful post (yep - I counted!) and I don't envision running out of things to be thankful for anytime soon.


All these 'Grateful For....s'  have served to remind me of what is truly important.

They've sometimes forced me to take a step back and see the big picture - or take a good hard look at my selfish, petty complaints and bin them.

They've regularly pushed me to articulate the often unspoken but genuine appreciation I have for the people around me and the countless blessings in my life.

They have regularly recentred me and 'corrected' my frame of mind.


Over the past year or so, I have been 'Grateful For...' everything from love, family and community to knicker claimers, wall tiles and seafood platters.

This week I am grateful for busy-ness.

The distraction that has been list after list, task after task, outing after outing - all diverting my attention from what lurks beneath.

Distracting me from wrapping (wrecking?) my head around Magoo's test results and the ramifications they hold.

The next few weeks (4 weeks, 6 days - but who's counting?) are going to require patience and perspective on my part.

Failing to maintain those those virtues (which I often do), I've always got busy, busy, busy as a back up plan.

Come be grateful - it's a fabulous start to the weekend.

Shar :-) xx

Dear Me...

Dear Present Day Shar,


I'm writing this because I know you often shake your head and wonder what I would say if I could see you now.


Do you know what?
It's okay. Let it go.


Yes, my year 2000-ish life is an exciting mix of travel plans, partying, shoppping, fabulous friends, free drinks and fitness.
I have such ambition. I'm aiming to be the youngest female principal in Australia.
I want to build on my honours degree with a masters or doctorate.


I live a selfish lifestyle.
I live in fear of nothing - except criticism and getting fat.
I pretty much do what I want, when I want. (As long as it's not too fattening!)






And your life?
Well, c'mon it is pretty tame, isn't it?
Tame - but not necessarily lame - don't get offended Mrs Still-Somewhat-Over-Sensitive.


You let those career aspirations fly baby 
- fly right out the window once that switch flicked and you decided 'babies r us'.
I mean, part-time? Maternity leave? Ha ha!


You're not going to set the world on fire any day soon - but you sure do cross off a mean 'to do' list.

Shar 2012, you have a wonderful husband and (almost) two beautiful children.
You're more maternal and affectionate than I would have ever thought possible.

We didn't even kiss goodnight around our place growing up - and look at you all mushy, gushy, gaa-gaa!!
Although, that kid you've got is pretty damn cute.

Hey, you have a dog!! How's that?
You and a dog all loved up -  after all these years and that big scare on the front lawn.

You've found a fantastic guy.
The 'one' - the one you weren't looking for.
Far too much like our Dad for my liking - but a terrific man.
You're a brilliant team - and you don't constantly second guess your worth when you're with him.
Nice work - at last.


Okay, so you're excited about tax time and that snazzy new laundry tap.
You love Tupperware and the toy catalogues send you into a spin.
I can deal with that.
At least you still go to the hairdresser regularly. Don't you?

Your confidence astounds me.
You're no longer ruled completely by what others will think of you.
You don't punish yourself (as) mercilessly for stuffing up.
Despite your foot in mouth and related syndromes, you know that you're a good sort.
Because you say so - not because others have told you so (and not because you need to hear it constantly anymore).
That's pretty cool.

And your friends? They're just the best.
And lots of them are mine too.
That is absolutely awesome.
I knew they were keepers.
Keep cherishing these people - they're amazing - and the source of so much strength.

On that note, you have some big-ass shoulders there, sister.
All this boxing must be paying off for you.
Even though you sook and cry in the shower when it's all too much, you are strong.
Your family can rely on you to hold it together, to fight when you need to and to keep perspective - mostly.


So, don't be ashamed when you think of my plans, dreams and aspirations.
Think of that Powederfinger/ Hilltop Hoods track that your Hubby and yourself love to sing to each other -
"These days turned out nothin' like I had planned. This liiiife - turned out nothing like Iiiiii had plannned."


It's better than you could have foreseen.


Love Shar Of Ten Plus Years Ago.

P.S. How much must you weigh now, Chubster?!!
       I love that you don't let it dominate you anymore - bot woooaaah girl!!! :-) xx

Linking with beautiful Jane's Post of The Month Club...

52 Week Project : Wk 41

I'm sorry. Am I boring you, Sir?

Sometimes I wish I was one of those private, closed book types.

You know, suffer (or celebrate) in silence and keep my cards close to my chest.

A dignified, quiet sort.

I'm not.

Oversharing is more my thing.

Dignity, poise and grace - not so much.

At times, it must be excruciating for the people in my life.

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project

Do you keep things to yourself - or burden others like I do?!

Shar :-) x

When Did You Become A Mum?

So when did you become a Mum?

For me it was January 2008.
It was from the moment that I saw Magoo's sweet flickering heartbeat on the monitor at 8 weeks pregnant.

I feel that once I am fortunate enough to be carrying a child, my body is no longer my own.
My responsibility is to my baby and my primary concern is for their health.

I can remember feeling fiercely protective of my baby Magoo when at 19 weeks gestation, he wasn't keeping still for the sonographer and she expressed her frustration repeatedly. Grrr - leave my baby alone!

I wanted to rip the cigarette from a stranger's hand when she ignorantly lit up beside my big belly during that pregnancy.

I was a Mum, man.

In my opinion.

I guess the moment in which you become a Mum (or parent) depends on your circumstances and journey into parenthood.

It also depends on your perception of when exactly that colllection of multiplying cells becomes an actual baby, a life.

I recently saw a story in the media on selective reduction.
I don't have an issue with women making choices about their bodies and their lives.

People's decisions are not mine to judge.
The consequences are theirs to bear or enjoy - regardless of what I feel I may do in similar circumstances.

And how on Earth would I know anyway?

I do have an issue with hearing a child in utero described as 'not yet living' though.
One woman's justification when choosing to end the lives of two of her naturally conceived triplets was that 'they're not alive until they're born'.

I disagree.
Ask any unfortunate woman who has, sadly, lost a child before birthing them and I'm sure most would disagree with her statement.

As I listened to her speak, this life inside of me was tumbling and kicking.
Undeniable, beautiful life.
In my eyes.

Right now, I am already feeling like a Mum of two.
Granted, a Mum of two with half the logistical concerns, a spare set of hands and zero nappies at this point!

In recent weeks, I have had a taste of the heart struggles to come as I join the masses of mothers with 1+ children.
The to-ing and fro-ing - balancing the needs of my children.

I have felt for my baby girl when my thoughts have been consumed with her brother's health.

I have felt for my baby girl when eating food was the last thing on my mind - and almost repulsive. And of course, the guilt when I realised I hadn't eaten. Always with the guilt.

I have worried for her health, when my stress levels have seen me sleepless or vomiting with worry and anxiety.

I have felt the guilt that her precious life has taken on a clinical dimension -  that her cord blood/bone marrow/genetic make up has entered discussions about treatment options for Magoo.

I have felt such relief every time I hear that 'Miss Muppet' is doing just fine in there.

I constantly consider this little lady when I think of any aspect of our future.
In my mind, she is already a part of our family.

I can only imagine the intensity that this balancing/juggling act will adopt once she can make her needs felt even more convincingly!

So when did you become a Mum?

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Life As 'Normal'

As we wait out Magoo's test results,

we are aiming for 'life as normal' as far as he is concerned in the coming weeks.

He's a pretty switched on operator -

so there's no doubt he's noticed that the old parentals have become more of the 'soft touch' of late.

Hopefully, the other side effects of our recent experiences

- the anguish, anxiety, sleeplessness and pain -  haven't been felt as acutely though.

So, life as normal...

With ice creams and sombreros...

With making fun of Mummy's shape...

With the best seat in the house for footy watching...

With impersonating a police officer...

With scones as big as your head...

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

How does 'normal' look at your place?

Shar x

Grateful For.. So Very Much

Remarkably, at the end of this long week which will forever be filed under the heading 'the hardest ones', a hundred and one gratefuls spring to mind.


Far more than I could gather at this time last week - while ignorantly, blissfully unaware of what awaited us.



I'm a million (and then some) times grateful for my gorgeous boy.
I'm so far beyond grateful for Magoo's, um, everything.
Nothing makes you appreciate someone or something more than when they are vulnerable.
Don't tell Magoo he's vulnerable though.
Magoo the brave has put me to shame - wincing and shedding silent tears as he makes his way through botched blood tests and patiently cooperates through appointment after appointment.
He hasn't questioned what is going on or why, but complied with everything.
Magoo tells me that he much prefers MRIs to blood tests at the moment.
As you do, when you're three.


I'm brimming with gratitude for my sweet Hubby.
I have despised seeing him in pain this week, but ironically  have never felt so connected to him either.
He let me fall apart in private and let me see him fall apart too.
He is both my strength and my refuge when I need one or the other - or both.
As a chronic over thinker, I have in the past wondered what would happen to our marriage if we were faced with a 'biggie'. If we were really tested.
I've seen firsthand what the 'biggies' do to families.
Hubby and I have turned to each other and not on one another.
We may not always see eye to eye on simple issues - like when it is appropriate to feed children chocolate - but we're on the same page where it matters.
I will never question the strength of what we have again.

 I'm so very grateful for the support and love of beautiful family.
We have been strengthened and sustained by our families' genuine care - and, unfortunately, their sharing in our pain.
I'm pretty sure that my sister is now more knowledgeable (and passionate) than most general practitioners in the area of leukodystrophies.


I'm grateful and inspired by the amazing friends and communities that surround us.
The outpouring of support that has come our (Magoo's) way is unbelievable.
In so many different forms and with such feeling.
It's humbling.


I'm grateful for the gift of timing.
No matter what eventuates in the coming weeks, the timing of detection has been a literal miracle.
Magoo is not symptomatic.
This early detection gives him (and us) the very, very best chance of treating whatever we are facing.
The MRI Magoo had last month was scheduled for an unrelated (and for now, unresolved) issue.
It is mind blowing to contemplate how many coincidences/chance events/guiding hands from above have led us to where we are.

Despite the circumstances of this week and the clinical realities we face - I feel truly blessed.

Linking with Maxabella's 52 Weeks of Grateful.

Shar xx

Going Got Tough

Soooooo...
this week parenting took a turn for the raw, heart wrenching and cruel for Hubby and I.

In our little patch of the universe, things turned on their head.

Our elation at the tumour that wasn't there lurking in Magoo's beautiful head after all was, unfortunately, to be short lived.

On Monday I was told that Magoo's brain scans have shown 'abnormalities'.

'Abnormalities' that point to the likelihood of a disease that is literally eating away at Magoo's brain.

I was alerted that something is possibly attacking him as we cuddle, play, chat, bathe, sleep, eat, laugh, kiss...

Cue the sky falling down in my world.

I struggled this week.

Struggled to reconcile that frightening reality with my everyday privilege that is a gorgeous, articulate, clever, loving little boy.

Struggled to stay upright at times.

Struggled to refrain from screaming at people's mundane complaints and (perfectly valid) whinging.

Struggled to continue on with the day to day when the breath to breath was difficult.

Struggled to hold it together until Magoo was asleep for the night, so that Hubby and I could hold each other and sob freely, questioning and speaking the fears that our eyes were communicating over Magoo's head all evening.

Struggled with early mornings when I had 'that' moment. That sweet moment when you wake and for a split second this isn't happening. It was just a dream. A horrible dream.
Until you realise it wasn't.


This evening we saw a wonderful paediatric neurologist who knows his 'stuff'.
He doesn't yet know exactly what Magoo's 'stuff' is - but, like our beautiful boy, he's a man with a plan.
Many plans.
And tests. So many tests.
Starting tomorrow morning.

So, Hubby and I have found some comfort in these plans and in this doctor whom we can trust.

This parenting gig can be tough.

But Hubby and I - we're tougher.

 

There's no exit clause but I guarantee that if there were, neither of us would exercise that option.

Our Magoo - he's the toughest of 'em all.

But even toughies appreciate your prayers.

Shar xx

52 Week Project : Wk 40

We're having a tough week around these parts.

I'm constantly repeating cliches like mantras in my restless head.

'There's no strength without struggle.'

'Positive energy, positive energy.'

'One foot in front of the other.'

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project

Shar x

Point + Shoot : Dirty Days

I do believe that this weekend's motto was

'if you're still clean, you're doing it wrong'.

We've had a fantastic weekend of immersing ourselves in dirt, grime, mess and filth.

(And I'm not even referring to the smutty 'Fifty Shades of Grey' that I read.)

We've enjoyed some toilet toil, tile scrubbing, leak detecting and hardware shopping.

 Mixed with a bit of grubby street socialising and greedy birthday celebrating -

we're a bunch of happy little grots here.

How was your weekend?

Linking with lovely Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)

52 Week Project : Wk 39

Raaaarrr!!!

Irresistible - I know.

I can't for the life of me figure why Hubby has taken to sleeping on the couch lately.

:-)

For the record - Hubby is a-snoring, I'm a-coughing.

Beautiful nocturnal music we do not make.

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project

Shar :-)

You Spin Me Right Round

An Ode To My Washing Machine...

My dear Whirlpool,
We have been inseparable for a few years now - you and I.


Rarely would I go a day without spending time with you.
Sometimes we get together 2 or 3 times a day  - when we're really in sync.

Oh my.
I hope you can find it in your agitator to forgive us.



Right now, things have changed for us. Between us.

I want you to know that I'm hurting too.

I miss you. Really miss you.

Renovations (plus this horrendous weather) are forcing us apart for now.



But I hope you can see the big picture.

That's what is keeping me going in here without you.

We're trying to create a better life for you.

Somewhere beautiful (not to mention functional) for you to soak, spin and swirl.

So Hubby has had to put you out in the cold - literally.

He's made it much harder for us to work our magic - but he has his reasons.

Hubby''s not a jealous man - you should know that about him by now.

I know he doesn't spend a lot of time with you, but he does appreciate what you and I have.

Yes, he can be disrespectful and leave clothes inside one another.

I know he's neglected to clear his pockets on occasion and even subjected you to inhumane levels of toxicity.

But Hubby doesn't resent you or mean to offend. He just innocently takes you for granted.

I've realised these past few days that I've been taking you for granted too.

Even ridiculing your imperfections and eyeing off younger, larger drummed, flasher models.
As the song goes - sometimes you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone.

I'm sorry.

Rust or no rust. Longer cycle times than indicated or not. Occasional grease spots or none.

You're valued.

I look forward to the day we're reunited, W.

I imagine we'll spend days together, just getting reacquainted.

Hang in there - out there - for a few more days.

Love Shar :-) x

P.S.
Relle - please don't tell Whirlpool about yesterday with your Simpson.
It was a once off. As lovely as it was, it won't happen again.

Point + Shoot : Weekend Worker

Some people believe children should be seen and not heard.

Hubby and I don't subscribe to that archaic view at all.

We love to hear Magoo around the place.

We love to hear our gorgeous little man 

hammering, sweeping, lifting, carting and working hard to earn his keep around here.

And I thought I trusted Magoo.
That's some serious faith there, Hubby.

Does he think those school fees are going to simply pay themselves?

Of course, if he's compliant and productive enough,

we allow for the odd play with some other employees little friends after knock off.

Obviously, they see his value as an industrious little fellow too.

Do your kids think 'work' is fun?

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)

Who The Hell Are You?

In this month's Fresh Horses Brigade, Eden is asking
- who the hell are you?'

I, for one, don't have a definitive answer.

Some days I don't have a clue what defines me anymore.

Motherhood?
My marriage?
My job?
My home or (lack of) wealth?
My Irish heritage?
The way I treat others?
My looks?
My love for my friends?
The company I keep?
My OCD tendencies?
My fondness for a a glass of bubbly and a wedge of cheese?
My need to be liked?
???????????

I wouldn't know which box I fit neatly into.
Primarily because I don't.
I'm pretty sure I've got an awkwardly balanced limb in multiple boxes most of the time.

Hey, right now my shape isn't conducive to getting in and out of any  silly boxes anyway!

According to this bloggy spot, I'm a Mum and a runner.
A teacher and a waffler.

Is that it?
I don't know.

I do know that I'm a contradiction.

I'm fiercely independent - but often all I want is someone to take care of me for a change.

I love my Aussie lifestyle, but I miss my Irish roots and family.

I'm fit and healthy - but more than happy to devour a family block of chocolate in one sitting.

Sometimes I'm incredibly passionate about a cause, sometimes a complete fence sitter.

I'm not a girly girl at all. But I get excited about gorgeous things and love pretty?

I'm brave and bold - but so incredibly fraidy cat of failure.

I love that Hubby and I make a terrific team, though some days all I want is to do my own thing, at my own pace, in my own way.

I'm a go-getter, an active person - who sometimes can't find the motivation/energy to bring the washing in.

I'm a planner, a details person. Yet, I shrink away from making decisions for others.

I love clothing, shopping, coordinating - but never feel fashionable.

I'm strong, capable - physically and mentally. But when my family is threatened I crumble on the inside (and eventually the cracks starting showing on the outside!).

I'm highly social - but often stupidly shy, awkward, self conscious and uncomfortable in social settings.

I derive ridiculous satisfaction from choosing and giving gifts, but feel equally merry when buying myself a little something.

I'm house proud but the layer of dust coating the top of my dryer is shameful and our study is comparable to a bomb site.

I love the feeling of cooking or baking something delicious for my family - but also feel that a bbq chook and supermarket salad is a perfectly reasonable meal.

I'm over sensitive to other's criticism, but am sarcastic myself.

I hate that this post is choc - o -block full of "I", "I'm", me, me. me, me", but I'm writing it anyway!

I want to be a great wife and mother. It's a privilege. But I want to be Shar too.

Mostly though, I'm all about striving for balance.
I neeeed symmetry like my three year old neeeeds babycinos - so being a walking, talking contradiction is a-okay with me.

So, who the hell are you anyway???

Shar :-)

Grateul For...Planny, Plan, Plans

As much as a day/weekend/week of sweet nothing stretching as far as the eye can see is appealing at times...

the truth is, I get a lot of satisfaction out of plans.

It can be the big stuff - serious, monumental plans for the future.
Or the little things - simply choosing the type of muffins I'll bake once this banana bread is out of the oven.
(On a Saturday night no less. Goooooo me!)


Plans for our new laundry - by Magoo.
I love a man with a plan.
(and a fetching pj pant/gumboot combo!)  :-)



I try to tap into the 'go with the flow' mentality and I do love a bit of spontaneity - but at my core I'm a planner.

I can't fight that.

I love filling my diary, lists, mind and calendar with plans.

Plans to knock off mundane chores,

plans to catch up with beautiful friends,

plans to set and realise goals,

plans to welcome brand new tiny people into the fold,

plans to improve our home,

plans to gift others or treat ourselves,

plans to celebrate loved ones....

I love it all.

This week I'm grateful for our plans - big and small.

Linking with Maxabella's 52 Weeks of Grateful
 

Shar :-)

Same, Same - So What?

Rant time...

Two of the most incredible, beautiful children I teach this year each happen to have two parents of the same gender.


It's the biggest non-issue within our classroom -  and as far as our private, Christian school is concerned.

Their respective parents are not only beautiful people - but wonderfully supportive, involved and admirable parents.

It has been years since I deliberately wiped the term 'Mum and Dad' from my vocabulary when addressing students and discussing their families. I speak about 'families', 'parents', 'households' and 'communities'.

There is no 'norm', therefore there should be no judgement.


Call me ignorant, but I just don't get all the fuss.


If two people who love one another, want to commit themselves (in this day and age when so many don't) - what is the big deal??


Over the years, I've seen some destructive, dysfunctional family structures rip childrens' lives apart.
Heterosexual, destructive, dysfunctional family structures.

In my blunt, honest opinion we (meaning mixed gender couples) have hardly made a case for marriage full stop - between a man and a woman or otherwise.
Adultery, abuse, family breakdown....
We've hardly held this 'holy' institution in high regard across the board, have we?

In addition, many of those people more vocally opposed to homosexuality like to condemn the 'lifestyle choices' that are often associated with the gay community.
Apparently promiscuous behaviour, loose morals and offensive values are the problem - if you listen to the knockers.
But, when a gay couple wants to commit to one another and among other things declare their monogamy - that's an issue???

Maybe I'm missing something here -  but why would someone else's choice, that really has no bearing on my life, be worth getting all fired up about?
Wouldn't my energy be better spent working on the relationships in my own life?
Shouldn't these people be putting their supposedly higher morals to use in a more positive, charitable fashion?

Live and let live.
And lighten up for goodness sake.
Hey, Magoo?!

End of rant.

Shar :-)

PS - Retrospectively linking with Fi's initiative -

52 Week Project : Wk 38

A bump(ish) pic... by popular demand.

(Or because one person politely enquired.)

26 weeks pregs - being photo bombed and with hideous posture.

I was struck by a case of 'poor-second-child-will-have-no-photos' guilt 

before I headed out to the movies with some girlfriends last night.

So there's the bump -  in disguise - which is probably less offensive than in all it's glory anyway.

For the record -  'What to Expect When You're Expecting' was a fairly good movie.

Definitely less dry than the actual book, thank goodness.

Hilarious in parts, completely visually unrealistic in others (for me, anyway).

I actually enjoyed the Dads' take on this whole parenting gig more than

the images of 'yummy mummies' at every turn.

What NOT to expect when you're expecting :

Do NOT expect to look in the mirror and see

Cameron Diaz' killer body with a perfectly rounded, smooth basketball shaped addition in front.

Do NOT expect to look in the mirror and see

even your original body with a perfectly rounded, smooth basketball shaped addition in front.

Do NOT expect to feel wonderful cavorting around in a skimpy bikini with a cute henna tattoo adorning your blemish free, stupidly toned stomach.

Do NOT expect to dress in even sweeter, prettier versions of your regular clothes - or wear heels on a regular basis.
Do NOT expect to give birth in pink lingerie - or simply sneeze your child into the world.

Maybe that was just my own issue,

considering I'd just consumed a small baby's weight in scrumptious food at dinner though!

*** 3 + stars for entertainment factor.

* -1 star for making the ever expanding lady feel like crap in the image department.

More importantly...

***** 5 + stars for the great company of fabulous friends to laugh (and snort) with.

Linking with Fi's 52 Week Project

Shar :-)

To Do...

Post birth (but I'm thinking probably not immediately), I must remember to ...

 



The official 'cot handing over ceremony'.











• Get out of the house
• Remember birthdays and other celebrations - in particular Magoo's
• Run (preferably without the presence of something resembling a Winter doona between my legs)
• 'Ride' the Sushi train that has opened up locally this year
• Drink a little something something with the first name 'sparkling' -  but that doesn't bear the surname 'water'
• Trapeze - I'm not kidding
• Buy a dip and NOT read the ingredient list before deciding whether to eat it
• Stop thinking of my baby's size and weight in terms relative to fruit or vegetables
• Eat cold quiche - with bacon even
• Tie my shoelaces over and over
• Make and devour my favourite potato salad - with the whole egg mayonnaise
• Poach myself a runny egg (or better still, have someone else poach me a runny egg)
• Drop something on the floor (just not the baby) and not ask Magoo to please pick it up for me
• Get over this obsession with all things chocolate (& food in general)
• Conveniently place the vacuum in front of Hubby's drawers or car or kayak - or somewhere he might actually notice it
• Christen my maternity jeans as my new 'skinny' jeans - then I can tweet/post/brag to New Idea that I'm wearing my skinny jeans already
• Get up from the couch/bed/dining chair/floor without a sound effects reel

• Oh - and care for my children. Yes. Must remember to do that.

Have I forgotten something? 
I be reckoning I've got twelve more weeks of list making up my sleeve.
Shar :-)