Internet Pen Friends.

I've missed blogging.

It's made me realise how much I rely on the world wide web for my friends.

I'm torn between feeling depressed about that and feeling glad that the internet has allowed me to continue building relationships with my friends and also develop new ones.

I think I'm leaning towards the feeling glad.

Not having the internet makes me feel as if I'm not able to recieve letters from penfriends that I'm used to recieving letters from every day.

It also makes me feel like I can't send my letters either.

I miss reading about other people's lives... As creepy as that sounds.

Reading other mummy blogs makes me laugh, cry and all in between. It is my time to sit down with a coffee and hear stories from friends that make me feel like I'm not alone. Stories about toilet training. Birth stories. Stories about children growing up. Reading foodie blogs inspire me in the kitchen. They are my time to sit down while I'm preparing dinner and make me think "oh, I could make that!" Reading stories about people's work day, that difficulties and triumphs of every day life - remind me that there is life beyond children. That I need to sometimes be more thoughtul of my friends who don't have kids.

Blogging opens up a whole window to friends all around the world (although I'm sure I don't have readers from outside Australia).

I don't even know what I'm trying to say really.

I guess the blogging world allows me to have coffee with the girls, every day of the week. We don't have to be in the same place, or the same time zone, or even the same country. They don't mind if my kids are being feral, or my house is a mess or I'm still in my p.j's.

Of course I'm not saying my real life friends aren't that wonderful as well. They are. My friends are the best I could ask for. they don't mind about feral kids or messes either. But one can nevr have too many friends, right?

Anxiety, Awkward and Antisocial

I get anxiety.
I hate it. As anyone with anxiety does.
It's better now than it used to be. At one point, I shook if I left the house.
Even among my closest friends, I'd panic if I wasn't in my environment and I'd have to leave. I'd feel my heart start pounding and racing. I'd get hot. I'd feel dizzy. I'd feel like I needed to cry.
Put on top of this always having my blood pressure in the back of my mind - runs in the family - I'd worry more about what the anxiety was doing to my blood pressure.
Which would make it worse.


Like I said. I'm a lot better now.
But there's things that set me off. Like people you don't know talking to you in inappropriate places e.g.
Doctor's Surgery (where I went to get my BP situation assessed). Waiting room scene went something like this:
Lady: What a gorgeous little girl!
Me: Thanks.
Lady: She looks new?
Me: Six weeks.
Lady: Gorgeous. (At which point the conversation should have drifted into a comfortable silence)
Lady: My son was little like that. my daughter wasn't so little. She wasn't as cute as her either, but she's beautiful now. (said daughter was sitting right beside her) That's why we're here. She's getting pains in her shins. I think they're just growing pains, because she was short and then she just shot up! She went from having size 6 feet to size 9 overnight! You're tall, aren't you? Did you ever get growing pains? Do you remember what it felt like? How long did they last? Oh, your daughter will be lucky if she ends up tall like you. I'm not very tall at all.
Me: Awkward.

Does she not realise how awkward I feel? I'm not responding to her questions at all. I'm starting to panic. Please leave me alone. I don't particularly like social situations in places I'm not used to being. I don't like having conversations about these sorts of things with strangers. Please. Stop. Talking.
But of course, I don't SAY any of that, do I?

No, instead I sit there and try not to freak out, then get called into the doctor and get told my BP is 150/100.
How do I explain to him "yeah, probably because the lady in the waiting room wouldn't stop talking to me so I started panicking."
Crazy....


 Pushy sales assistants set me off too. Yesterday I went to buy Marvel VS Capcom for the ps3.
There was a new guy there, along with the guy (Steve) who was normally there. The new guy is a manager at another store.
He kept asking if I wanted to pre-order any games. To which I cleverly responded (remember I'm BUYING a game) "I don't game." AWKWARD. I then had to explain I'm more of a computer games kind of person. He then went into a big spiel about the new computer games being released. I started to panic. Me "I play WoW." please shut up
THEN he talks about the WoW like games coming out. Meanwhile Steve - wonderful man that he is - said to the other guy, "hey, you leave her alone, she's MY customer." (being friendly of course) so other guys wanders off occasionally mentioning a game in my direction.

THANK YOU STEVE.
Steve then has a conversation with me about a couple of games coming out that it's possible I may like, because he has bothered to ask about what style I enjoy. Not Awkward. Panic gone.

A lot of this leads me to be anti social. Going out and seeing my friends is sometimes a big effort for me. Not because I think they are an effort to deal with (if I did, why would I have them as friends??) But because I struggle to be in places that I don't feel in control. Not only that, I worry about not seeming in control. I worry that people will think my child is a feral, if he throws a tantrum. My child is NOT feral. He's a little boy who can't quite communicate what he wants so he's frustrated. Don't judge either of us! 
The silly thing is, I KNOW my friends don't judge me. I know they think my son is well behaved. But I still worry.
And the beautiful thing about my friends? They worry about me. They tell me when I'm being distant. They tell me when I'm being silly.
They listen to my fears. They know what I'm going through.

They NEVER make things Awkward. Because they know when to talk and when to just enjoy the silence (as much silence as we can have with 21 month olds).
So as much as I'm sometimes antisocial - they ALWAYS pull me back out.
They help remedy my anxiety and make me feel less awkward and more every day mum. With makes me less antisocial.

I love you guys.

Surviving Motherhood - How I've done it

Sometimes I wonder how I've survived this far with (most) of my sanity in tact.
so here's how I've done it:

• Take advantage of younger siblings who think they want children. Give them yours. (not forever). Babysitter for you and serious birth control for them - Win/win!

• Cook more than you need. So then, when you're too lazy to cook something, you can pass it off as being organised when you pull a meal out of the freezer with "here's one I prepared earlier."

• Spending lots of time at friends houses so mine doesn't get messed up. To pull this one off, you need to bring along baked goods. Trust me, it's worth it. Especially if said friend has a backyard the kids can play in, while yours is constantly damp and full of leeches. (thanks Belinda!)

• Coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. Or so I'm told. I don't drink coffee. But I do eat copious amounts of chocolate and jelly beans. I figure I'll just use the sugar instead of the caffeine.

• Playgroups - you can hand your feral child off for a couple of hours while you sit and watch someone else read them the same book for the hundredth time. This usually comes at the small cost of a piece of fruit - well worth it.

• Hats. Bad hair day instantly gone. Need I say more?

• Bribery. Don't looked shocked. Who doesn't do it? Luckily, my toddler gets really excited about the prospect of a roll from Baker's Delight, so I'm pretty safe for now. AND if he does get distracted while I do my lolly isle run, I can usually placate him with a box of tictacs. At home, it's bribery with frozen peas and corn. Cuz someone was VERY clever when they made those veggies look like little lollies.

• Sex. Whenever I can get it. Why? Because I enjoy it. Because it makes me feel human. Because it says that there's more to life than singing the same song over and over again, or changing a poosplosion. Yes. Even when I'm really, really tired and the kids and sick and it feels like my eyelids are sandpapering my eyeballs. I'll sleep when the kids nap tomorrow.

• Lying. No honey, there's no sushi. No, those are Grandad's donuts, he'll get cranky. No, the chocolate must be stuck in the machine. Yes, that is a biscuit. Yes that's chocolate. (really an olive).

But in all seriousness. My family - especially my little sisters pretty much jump at the chance to look after their nephew and niece. My friends who I can talk about anything to and who also know when nothing needs to be said.

And the biggest thing that has kept me sane?

Knowing I get to spend every day with him =]

Fuck Modesty

So this morning I showed up for my appointment (late) only to realise I didn't have my referral. Which means I had to rebook. I had fasted 6 hours for nothing!
So I got back in the car and started to give myself a stern talking to about my lack of organisation - in my head of course. (Don't pretend you don't talk to yourself either, as parents it's sometimes the only sane conversation we get!)
And then I thought, You know what? Fuck it. I messed up. I'm not going to beat myself up about it. Society does that enough for me.
We're always told we're not smart enough. Pretty enough. Thin enough. Tall enough. Young enough. Old enough.
So I thought I'd "stick it to the man" and tell you what I'm good at. And bloody proud of it, too.


I am a great artist. Not fantastic, but great enough that people are walking around with my designs on their skin.

I am a great cook. Even my almost two year old eats pretty much everything put in front of him. (the 16 year old sister is another story - but apparently there's no pleasing teenagers, so why bother?)

I have a great relationship with "hubby" - meaning I can tell him when I'm pissed off at him or when I want him to stop playing the goddamn ps3 for 5 minutes  because Dex has done an explosive poo. I don't just stew in it and let it build up. (the frustration about the ps3 - not the poo. Who would stew in poo?)

I am a great mother. My kids are happy. Well looked after. Well fed. Dex is an amazing talker and very smart for his age - daycare told me so. Lola is (mostly) a happy baby. She gets her nappy free time and her tummy time and all the other times.

I look great for having had two babies. Yes, I have stretch marks. But you know what? Who gives a fuck. Please, find me a woman, childless or not that doesn't have at least one. She deserves to be in a museum.
And finally, I have a GREAT life ahead of me. I have gorgeous, intelligent kids. A wonderful partner. A beautiful family and support network.


I deserve it. I deserve to be proud of what I have. What I've worked for and what's yet to come.
Fuck modesty. You should be proud too.