I Get It

I don't necessarily feel that you need to suffer in order to empathise with the suffering of others.
However, with every life experience - career,  mortgage, marriage, motherhood ... - I understand my own parents more and more.

Yesterday was my birthday.
Today is my older sister's birthday.
We were born 364 days apart.

My sister passed away before she reached her second birthday.
My parents were twenty years old.
With a six month old me.

Today is not a day of celebration in my family.
It has always been a quiet day of private sadness, watching my parents grieve.

For me, it is a day of questioning.
And some shame when I recall childhood memories.

When I was young, I just didn't get it.

I had questions -
What was she like?
Did we play?
Would my sister and I have shared a room?
Would we have looked alike?
Would we have shared clothes and toys?
Would we have still moved to Australia if she had lived?
Would I still have a younger sister and brother too?

I didn't understand why parents didn't want to answer my questions.

I didn't understand why my parents would have left me to stay with my grandparents when I was such a young baby. Why they didn't want me at that time in their lives.

I didn't understand the level of grief for a baby who I had never truly known.
A baby who had never spoken or played.
A baby whom we didn't even have any photographs of.

I didn't understand the scars that don't heal.

I felt so disappointed each year that my Mum went to bed crying on my birthday, my day.

Spoilt brat.

I still have those questions and more -
Would my sister and I be close now?
Would we live near each other?
Would our kids be playing together?

But now I certainly understand why my parents find these and so many more questions difficult and painful to contemplate, let alone answer.

When Magoo was eighteen months (the age at which my sister died) - I was king hit with the enormity of what my parents lived through.

I was finally aware of how intensely you love your child from the very moment you meet them and how embedded they are in your heart even before their birth - never mind by eighteen months of age.

Last night, after a beautiful birthday and with my own heart brimming with contentment - when the 8th of October arrived - I went to bed crying.

I get it, Mum.
And I'm sorry.

xxx

Point + Shoot : Thirty Again

I'm a big fan of turning 30.

This year was my fifth time doing so - and it was fabulous - again.

The first time I hit the big 3-0, I had an adorable little newborn boy in my arms.

For keeps.

The best present ever.

Until this year's 30th.

Now, I have two gorgeous babes - and an even greater appreciation of what a gift that is.

I was truly spoilt today in so many ways...

A smooth night with little Missi.

Birthday 'treats' from my Magoo and Hubby.

Lovely gifts.

Some sweet family time.

A beautiful afternoon.

Fantastic company.

A little nibble.

A little tipple.

Just perfect.

Thank you my people.

I'm one very happy thirty year old this evening.

Linking with Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)

Grateful For... Sweet Surprises

This week I've been the lucky recipient of some lovely little moments - courtesy of others.

From Magoo popping his plate in the sink after breakfast or appearing fully dressed without being asked,

 to some lovely little birthday parcels and cards arriving unexpectedly

 - I have enjoyed numerous pleasant little surprises.

I've received two really thoughtful, personal (and completely unanticipated) gestures this week.

I've had a terrific last minute text that turned into a beautiful morning with friends.

Plus, Missi has continued to astound me with her 'chill' factor

(and some not so pleasant little surprises of the nappy-filling variety).

Surprise Mum! I'm joining the sisterhood!

I've been feeling very nicely surprised (over and over) this week and am super grateful each and every time.

What has you all gratitude-y today?

Linking with Maxabella Loves' 52 Weeks of Grateful.

Happy weekend to you and yours!

Shar :-)

It's A Koala's Life

I might still be riding high on residual hormones and that intoxicating new baby scent

(with a little lack of sleep thrown in for good measure), but I'm calling it.

Best. Thing. Ever.

Newborn snuggles.

Aaaahhhh.

That koala bear conforming cuddle where their gorgeous little body becomes an extension of your own.

That complete surrender and relaxation.

That warmth.

That smell.

That trust.

And it's portable!

I could travel the world and find no greater view, really.

Sob, sob.

Missi - pleeeeeease - just pause darling.

Right here, right now. Stop.

(Well, maybe you could decide whether you're going to have hair or not first.

 Patchy patch isn't the hottest look right now!)

I hope I never forget this beautiful, precious feeling.

And if one day I do

- Missi and Magoo best be giving me some gran babies (and a granny flat in proximity) to remind me.

Shar :-)

It's Ok.

After reading Mia Freedman's article on post baby bodies over the weekend and gorgeous, brave Daisy's post about so called Supermums yesterday, I've been a-reflecting.

Upon said reflection, I am aware that most of the pressure that I feel is self inflicted.

I am constantly supporting, encouraging and reassuring other women - and meaning it - but don't always extend that courtesy to myself!

Whether it's dissatisfaction with my body, guilt about my parenting prowess (and lack thereof) or negative feelings about how I'm fulfilling this wife/mother/friend/housekeeper/teacher/runner role I think I should be rocking
- it's my own standards I'm not meeting.

Realistically, I don't care if Mel B or Jessica has her bikini body back or if so-and-so only feeds her children organic produce from her lovingly tended garden.
'They' don't dictate my worth - I do.

Yes, society is putting unrealistic expectations on women to 'have it all', 'be it all', 'do it all'.

Yes, the media is bombarding us with unrealistic images of motherhood and stupid flippin' 'yummy mummies'.

But I know I am my own harshest critic.
I have a stronger sense of self than to look to outside sources for affirmation - or measure.

Yes - I received (and receive) 'interesting' looks and comments when I say that Missi is no longer breastfed - or worse actually produce a bottle.
But I wouldn't even notice those looks or comments if I didn't have my own prejudice going on in my head.

Yes, I have friends who are super diligent with their family's health and friends who cook amazing meals on a daily basis. 
I know women who provide creative, crafty activities for their children constantly, who sacrifice more than I do and make me feel like crap.
But, I wouldn't feel like crap if it weren't for my own habit of comparing.
Comparing and always coming off second best.

It's not all bad though.
In some ways, this gives me a little freedom from other peoples' judgements.
"Go on little old lady -  judge away. Say what you will. Look me up and down.
Stare at my beautiful baby with the large bottle in her mouth or the lovely little patch of baby spill on my shoulder that I didn't notice until now.
There's nothing you can think or say that I haven't already thunk or said to myself."

However, four + years in this mothering gig (and some fantastic realistic women to look to)  is slooooowly teaching me to be kinder to myself.
To suppress that smart alec, know it all, judgy judgy Shar who likes to bring me down.

I'm learning to accept that it's ok.

It's ok to provide fairly boring but mostly nutritious meals most nights of the week.
But I still feel uncomfortable with having meals provided for/gifted to us! A work in progress. I should just accept that I have gorgeous friends!

It's ok to read a magazine, turn on the tv or blog for some down time in each day.

It's ok to make use of daycare or a friend's offer to pick up Magoo occasionally.

It's ok to expect some contribution from my partner - he is the other parent and householder after all.

It's ok to leave the baby in the travel capsule and bring it inside if she is comfortable and sleeping.

Or enjoy a meal with my boys while Missi dozes in the bouncer all askew - but content!

It's ok, Mum!

It's ok that I purchased a dummy - and heaven forbid, have used it a few times.

It's ok to say that being up all night, even with someone I love with all my heart, is exhausting and frustrating.

It's ok to be out and about with my children a lot because that makes me feel good.

It's ok to buy a bigger size in those jeans and cut myself some slack - because caring for my children and enjoying small pleasures take precedence over dieting right now.

It's ok to suggest a different (cleaner) activity because I can't be bothered with all that mess today.

It's ok...

Shar :-)

Oct huh?

In some bizarre and mystic coincidence both my wall calendar and diary are incorrect right now.

Strangely they both (accidentally, surely?) claim that we're well and truly into October 2012.

October?

Hardly.

The year has barely begun.

I had myself a teeny little baby in August for goodness' sake.

It can't possibly be October.

How embarrassment for both manufacturers.

But why is my phone sadly mistaken too?

Shar :-)

Point + Shoot : Weekend Delivers!

If you were here on Friday dear internet, you'll know that I had expectations.

Great expectations for a beautiful weekend.

Okay, so little Missi Moo didn't quite get the memo about the 'sleep' part

of this glorious long weekend until last night 

- but the sunshine, socialising and 'samily' time sure came through with the goods.

We have enjoyed plenty of each over the last couple of days

- and the best part is we ain't done.

This fat lady isn't singing yet.

Can't hang about world wide web

- there's a 34 degree day out there just asking for a spot of sunny strolling and deck lounging.

I hope your weekend was all you hoped for too.

Linking with lovely Lou's Point + Shoot

Shar :-)