My kingdom for more life for you

My friend lost a battle today with a futile dysfunction that had no place occupying her body and her blood. It seems leukaemia is a determined disease and at last it has won, but to what end, other than breaking the hearts of everyone who has ever had the good fortune to know my friend. 

For no good reason this purposeless disease has left three beautiful children and a husband lost, and a mother having to say goodbye to her daughter, and this one friend bewildered and shocked at a world without her in it. 

I am new to this, I’ve been lucky so far, everyone has got well again, even she was well for four extra years thanks to her sister’s bone marrow. But here we are, the world seeming upside down and back the front. So many have been through this and lived with it, and I dare say I will too, but it is surreal and wrong and I wish it were a bad, bad dream.  

Kim Edwards, 16th July 1966 - 6th January 2018

I want her back and I didnt even see her every day, I can’t even imagine her family’s pain if this is how I feel, but thus was the depth of her. I know everyone says when someone dies that we almost canonise them, but she was always angelic to me. She was patient and kind, and generous, so generous. She didn’t judge or hold grudges, she was different to most. She was an extraordinary human being. And I feel so honoured that I knew her, if only for twelve short years. And they were too short, but I treasure the memories, the pragmatic and open way she spoke. Her laugh, her huge heart and the way she coaxed you off the edge with a simple ‘right?’ at the end of her sentences, gently pushing you towards a smarter thought. Thoughts that came so naturally to her. 

I am angry though, so angry that they couldnt save her, that “they” didnt deem her acute, she was acute to us! She was so acute whoever didn’t think so, so acute to us St Vincent’s, and your b/s about not enough beds! And hey, you think she may have been acute now that she didnt make it? I know she wouldnt approve of me being mad, it was not her style, but I would fight for her if she’d let me, and I’ll fight now, I’ll rage against the universe that decided this was a person that’s time was up. 

But you did fight my darling friend, you fought so hard, and now you can rest. And I hope you were at peace as much as this nonsensical proposition could leave you with. I miss you so bad already and we live in different cities. But I always relied on your next visit, our next wine under fairy lights, or you sleeping on our couch and being gorgeous to my boys, as only you, in your natural confidence could. You were so comfortable in your own skin, you put everyone you met at ease in theirs, even 7 year old boys were taken with your charm. 

I would do anything to have been able to comfort you as you did me, and save you the way you saved me. O if only, if only I could have brushed the hair from your face and made it all go away. O what I would give, what we all would have given to give you more life. 

There are no more words that can describe the hole you have left my darling, beautiful friend, Kim. I will miss you forever, I love you. I will try to live in a way that honours you and the inspiration you have been to me and to so many. Rest now, rest. 

Update: I am riding 40km in gear Up Girl to raise money for the Leukaemia Foundation, would appreciate anything you can give to support: please donate here and stop this senseless disease: https://give.everydayhero.com/au/nicole-does-40km-gearup-girl

 

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A lifetime of beauty in a song

I can't say that this song is going to make your day because it makes me sad yet it inspires me at the same time. But It somehow captures a lifetime in minutes and I am at the same time grieving the end as much as celebrating the wonder of what is now and possible. 

Because life in all it's forms always contains at least elements of beauty. The unique outlook each individual has, what they see is what no one else ever will. We are all watching our own movie and whatever scene you are up to, one thing is for sure it is yours and yours alone, to cherish and keep, locked in your beautiful mind. 

Townsville has obviously been harbouring some deep, mesmerising souls in 'Middle East' 

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Leukaemia meet a supermum, gorgeous friend and unassuming genius... now get lost!

Your hair's a little shorter now

but your smile is unmistakeable

Your resilience is being challenged

by life's great enemy and its barbaric cure

Bravery awe-inspiring

vulnerability only showing how strong you truly are

Bandana as cool as your even temper

If only those who saw it knew that being you, even now, is lucky!

I'm sure I've bumbled through my visits 

the fear and helplessness sneaking into my eyes

as I desperately hide myself behind an inane story about work

But I know you see me

I know your insightfulness

nothing escapes your astute eye

even poisonous chemicals won't take that from you 

You are a rare one, sharp as a tack, 

Loved by so many

Feared by some I'm sure

but I will be there to help you strike fear into this cowardly disease

and I know there will be many of us trying to beat it away from you

I wish I wish I wish I could take more of the battle on

but please when you think you can't stand, on those inevitable down days

remember all of our love will be there to hold you up 

so you can see the light at the end of this 5 month tunnel. 

And in case you don't know - you are my hero...
and I'm so honoured to be your friend.

xxxxxxxxxx

Dedicated to an amazing woman bravely fighting Leukaemia... please sponsor me in the World's Greatest shave... I'm colouring but will shave it all off if I get over $2k!!! VISIT http://my.leukaemiafoundation.org.au/wideeyedgirl

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All I want for Christmas is ... is cheese!

Once a Christmas fire engine rolled past our holiday house running carols over its very loud PA system complete with Santa on board throwing lollies I knew it was time to "join 'em". 

Left Bottom: Even Angus was sus about this pretend Santa!

In the end there is nothing to beat when you are knocked out by beautiful christmas lights, reindeer and good will to all. Yes every year until I hear my children say the words "Mum you know Santa isn't real right?" I will struggle with the myriad of lies created to keep, let's face it, quite a complex fairy tale alive, this time last year I was struggling with these questions. BUT hearing Crash yelling in the most excited shrill every time he sees decorations or lights "Christmas!". Hearing Bang already rationalising the amount of Santas he sees everywhere with they are not the real one, they are pretend. Listening to countless renditions of Jingle Bells and Santa Claus is coming to town...and their faces on Christmas morning. Nothing beats it and I am a converted Christmas sucker lapping up every random, cheesy tradition.

So just to prove it - check this out! 

Merry Christmas and a happy, peaceful and safe holiday
and hopeful new year! xxx 

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Is WALL-E one of the greatest movies ever made?

Creativity is this strange strange entity. I can't work out why it exists. It used to be evidence that God existed; he created us so we naturally created too. But then I started doubting the whole religion thing and my own need to capture beauty and pin it down remains unexplained. But one thing is true, when creativity is allowed to find its true potential, all are left inspired. 

In our time one of the most beautiful and inspiring works of art is the motion picture. Some may say it is a lazy person's novel but I believe it is a platform for every kind of artist. It is where visual artists cross over with musicians, actors and writers amongst so many others, all to do one thing well - tell a story. I have worshipped this art form for many years and have listed my favourite funny movies and even dedicated whole posts to some of my faves. But today's list is a must see of serious yet unmissable works. Welcome to my gallery of creative genius. 

• WALL-E
• American Beauty
• The Descendents
• The Piano
• Cinema Paradiso
• Léon
• The Unforgiven
• Amelie
• Million Dollar Baby
• The Green Mile
• Up
• Blade Runner
• The Shawshank Redemption
• Good Will Hunting
• A Beautiful Mind
• The Sixth Sense
• The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
• Kung-fu Panda
• The Matrix
• Life is Beautiful

WALL-E is I think one of my top five and only became so late last year, thanks to having toddlers that began to devour movies for breakfast. It is pure genius how the juxtaposition between robots and human emotion are seamlessly brought together. It's not every day a cautionary tale for humankind disguises itself in an exquisite robot love story, but Wall-e achieves both and more. WALL-E will have you entranced much in the same way he is entranced with the super-slick EVA from the first time she shoots at him with her high-powered laser arm. His quirks, imperfections, and huge heart will capture yours as much as his apple start up sound will have you smirking. This level of creativity astounds me and almost makes me believe again that there is something more to us than simply ending as dust. 

Never stop creating.

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Little arms, BIG hugs.

Someone asked me today to close my eyes and imagine a place where there is love. Of course I'm sure like most people my mind flashed my hubby's face up, but I settled on the best feeling in the world...that of small arms that can't quite reach around you yet, but still surprise you with their loving strength. 

My two boys are now nearly 3 and 4 and so their little arms do reach around my neck, they can pack a punch which often lands in my stomach, they can dive on me rock and roll wrestling style with no concept that 19kg in flight causes quite a lot of pain. But when those little arms lock around my ribs and squeeze while they bury their head in my chest I just melt. 

Gone are the menacing memories of the spilt smoothie, the punch up over a ninja turtle, the refusal to eat, bathe, get dressed, go to sleep, say yes. And if they add a "whove you Marm" they could have spewed, pooed and drawn on the walls all day, and I'd still be a mess of "my gorgeous little man, I love you too". 

I never imagined finding this kind of love, I never could have pictured the experience of stroking a luminescent forehead in a way that sends it's owner to sleep, or meeting these little people that are just crashing into life with insatiable curiosity, raw emotions and ever-stretching limbs. I never imagined being asked to "sing me 'close to you' Mum" or "look at my p00!" or to be told "my wil1y goes up like magic, it's really big.... hehehee". But these are the things that have made my life. These are the things that come to mind when someone asks me about love...and I am loving every sleep-deprived, deranged and chaotic minute. 

The most comfortable sofa is seemingly me!

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Happiness is love. fullstop

I just read about the longest-running longitudinal study into human development. The Harvard Grant Study started in 1938 and followed 268 Harvard graduates for 68 years. And it is one of those crazy moments where you watch someone else's life flash before you, but more than crazy it is absolute gold. It is like finding proof of God, when with that amount of data is collected, over that period of time, the findings prove that if the men had a warm relationship with their mother and a happy marriage, their lives were not only happier and healthier but also more financially successfully. It basically shoots "the nature vs nurture" argument squarely in the head too. 

Wow! just wow! 

Wow because I am a Mum to two toddler boys, wow because I know a man that didn't get on with his Mum and wow, I suddenly feel really terrified. 

I know this is all a good thing, because I am determined to love my boys and maintain a warm relationship with them, but life doesn't always work that way and people sometimes get it wrong. 

The good news for Mums struggling with their relationships with their sons is this though, the study also found that happiness can be found later in life, by things like finding the right spouse, a health scare or finding a new community, like three examples from the study did. 

Christopher Croke wrote in The Australian, "The journeys of the Grant Study men show that most people's lives are more authentically stories of growth and change than they are tales of demographic or genetic destiny."

Scott Stossel wrote in The Atlantic, "Vaillant’s key takeaway, in his own words: “The seventy-five years and twenty million dollars expended on the Grant Study points … to a straightforward five-word conclusion: ‘Happiness is love. Full stop.’ ”

It seems apt to end hAPpyRIL with that final note. Loving others is the most powerful and fulfilling thing we can do in this life. 

Love your family, love your friends, love the humans you've never met, 

but most of all LOVE your children. 

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UPDATE: The Burden of True Love: Dedicated to Marina Krim in her unthinkable loss

I seem to have an unhealthy obsession with death of late. It is quite disturbing and not really conducive to a light and smiling existence. Instead I have strange visions of myself being injured or worse one of my beautiful boys. I try to tell myself that living in fear of death is a waste of life and I know it is, I can feel it is, but now I have so much to lose, so much to miss in the growth of my two little toddler boys into young men and god permitting, adults. I watched Shadowlands tonight, and I knew I shouldn't but it is a beautiful story and a true one. Non-fiction is always more magnetic to me but unfortunately usually contains the real tragedy of the absurdity of our lives.

C.S. Lewis although a committed Christian and successful author had never really fallen in love. His life was perfectly balanced, clinical and in control. Until he met Joy quite late in life. Her massive IQ and wit derailed his limited existence and he fell hard and passionately in love with her. But by some strange fate it turned out she had cancer and died only four years after they were married. His life was turned upside down and back the front and was taken completely out of his hands. In spite of this he recognises that the happiness she brought was worth the pain. I love the part where he says to her on her deathbed "I love you Joy, you make me so happy, I never knew I could feel such happiness... you are the truest person I know." 

What is more devastating than their love cut far too short is Joy having to leave her boys, when still only boys very much still in need of their Mum, behind alone, without her. As a Mum I find this almost unbearable to watch let alone imagine for my own boys. 

I know that people somehow survive this kind of loss, the pain, although never completely gone, reduces and life crowds in to distract you. But I buckle in two at the thought, I don't seem to be made of the stuff that those that continue are. I feel like my insides are custard, probably soft and malleable through never having been through anything even close to this harrowing. 

I only wish that my fears will work to drive my enjoyment of the moments I am having this second, when my boys still love cuddles and kisses, and say things like "You are my true love" or yell with glee, "Mummy, Mummy" on my arrival home from work, running at me with arms splayed ready to be easily swung in the air, my face buried in their soft necks breathing in their innocence before bursting a raspberry onto their perfect skin, and drinking in the erupting giggles that this all imbues. 

Like C.S. Lewis, my nightmares will probably never cease, but if the worst were to happen and I end up broken by grief I hope I remember they were worth the pain, every precious second knowing them is better than a pain-free existence never having looked into their eyes of joy and wonder, and realising they are the joy and wonder of my life. 

Sending Kevin and Marina Krim the strength no Mother can imagine having,
as you face the most terrible of losses x

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Puberty Blues & Teenage Bliss!

I was innocently sitting down to my weekly dose of Offspring when I was set upon by this. I use the words set upon because a trailer for an up and coming series completely unravelled me and tears welled in my eyes as the last seconds of the three minutes ended. There it was memories, memories from when I saw Puberty Blues the first time, memories when I was that girl desperate to be kissed by that guy, memories, often painful of my own tempestuous awakening to life as a young woman. 

The excitement, the hope, the romance and the wide-eyedness of an open heart yet to be broken. It was balmy nights on the beach, pashes in front of camp fires, cask wine, indecently short skirts and all night conversations about the meaning of life. 

Ah the memories!

What advice do you give a teenager screaming to escape their innocence? Hold on, wait, don't rush? You can't - they wouldn't understand. I was dying to be an adult, a person in my own right, a trailblazing light streaming forward to a brilliant future. I didn't know that it'd all be over in the blink of an eye. I didn't understand that one day I would suddenly feel old and wonder what happened to that smiling, carefree girl, with so much life to look forward to. I didn't know that boys were NOT looking for the love of their life.

How do you prepare your beautiful innocent children for a world that will disappoint and will break their heart at least once? Not that a TV show will answer this, but I'm going to be glued to this new version of Puberty Blues because I'm as sentimental as they come. I grew up in the 70s and the whole scene is like looking at my family's super8 films. The risks, the heartbreak, the dancing, oh the dancing and the absolute exhilaration when that guy eventually turned and more than looked at you that way.  

 Teenage bliss! 

Would you go back for more?

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"Sometimes we wish for far away" man I love Powderfinger

This song was one of those songs I waited for when I listened to Powderfinger's album Odyssey Number Five, which I happened to listen to a lot in 2000 and 2001. I had just ended a 2 year de-facto relationship at 30 and my life was at a turning point. The understated agony in their music resonated with my own confused heart. 

I was reminded of my buried obsession one night driving home when someone with obviously impeccable music taste, I think on Triple M, played 'DEF', my second favourite song of theirs. And then by my mate Purple_Cath who was sharing her love of Powderfinger yesterday on Twitter. We lamented together their decision to disband.

Powderfinger farewelling the crowd at one of their final concerts... :(

So what better way to reignite my passion for men, such as these, that just reach in to my chest and grab my heart but than writing about it here. Enjoy, and I hope it brings back memories of late nights, dancing in muddy fields and stolen kisses. 

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WOULD YOU SOONER FORGET YOUR WEDDING?

Every year a tradition is remembered by those that chose to walk down the aisle in a white dress, a tradition to celebrate the day you spent way too much money on a very large dinner party and happened to commit your life to another human being. Every year without fail I forget this tradition, I don’t know whether it is pure absent-mindedness, or a deep subconscious reaction to my marriage but I never wake up on our anniversary prepared and usually get reminded about 8am by a less than impressed husband.

I don’t really think there is anything to say about this other than I seem to have had baby brain prior to having babies, and even more so once I did. But if there was a deep-seeded feeling that blocks out the day of our wedding from my memory it would have to be the fact that my fiancé at the time decided that a bucks night the night before the wedding day was a good idea. His brother stlll tells me that if it wasn’t for him dragging him out of whatever establishment they were partying in he wouldn’t have made it to the wedding at all. As it was, when the photographer asked him to spin all 58kg of skin and bone that was me back then, around, he nearly spewed. So as far as I’m concerned he’s lucky I married him at all let alone remember the day it happened all those years ago.

And it wasn’t that the day wasn’t memorable for other reasons than the groom being hung over, it was perfect in every other way. You could say that if you swapped the Groom for someone else who was sober, the day would have been nothing short of a fairy tale. It was at Jones Bay Wharf, I was in a simple but stunning dress, the bridesmaids were in gunmetal silver, we arrived in white Cadillacs to a small stone church that looked as though it belonged in a country town.

If you put aside the psychotic florist from a company that really should be called “Brides be Doomed” rather than it’s more deceptive upbeat name, who had mixed me up with another bride and refused to meet up to correct her obviously failed memory. Or the heartbroken hair stylist who obviously put his sadness into my style, the day had hope and joy written all over it. Especially if you were a groomsman it seemed. As though the enormous celebration of love created a strange love potion and nearly everyone got lucky, either that or people had their own “potions” in their pockets, whatever, the point was if you were single at our wedding and even slightly willing you were in for a night of looove.

The stories were so debauched my now hung over husband was struglling with the decision he’d just made. Talk about bad timing and probably a very logical reason for my annual blank. But despite the obvious trauma associated with my day as a princess, I am not trying to forget I’m married (well except the other day when I was in the park and I wanted to channel Kate Winslet’s character from Little Children), and after a beautiful lunch where Boom and I had a conversation that didn’t go something like “I did the last three poos so it’s your turn.”, “well I stayed up putting them to bed and then got up in the middle of the night so fair’s fair”. It was a lovely anniversary and one that now I’ve remembered I won’t forget…well at least until next year.

Head over to Facebook and share your wedding pics & most importantly the back story!

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9/11: In their shoes

© DailyMail.co.uk

I saw this picture and thought it was 9/11, it is not, but as I looked at the shoes I immediately felt sad for the thousands that had lost their lives on that fateful day ten years ago. The 2977 people who died had picked out shoes too, maybe with the help of their partner or maybe to spite them. They may have had their children with them, and asked them to stop jumping off the couch in the store. They had thought about the colour, the stitching, the material and the price, what they didn’t know was they were buying the shoes they would die in. 

And that decision to buy those shoes that day, like so many other every day rationalisations, was nowhere in their mind as many came to grips with the inescapable situation they were in. Instead we read of text messages of love and gratitude to partners, parents and children. We hear of stories of life-threatening heroism. We see pictures of sadness, trauma, destruction. Those every day dramas that happily rocked their worlds the day before, the weeks before were dwarfed into insignificance when faced with the end. 

As we look back on days like today I can’t help but feel foolish and a little ashamed, as they probably would too if they were lucky enough to be onlookers rather than victims. I literally spent 20 minutes deciding where to park today. I spent at least 2 hours this week feeling sorry for myself, and I told my husband off for picking up our two-year-old during a night terror instead of comforting him in his cot. I’m not saying that my feelings and decisions are stupid and wrong, I just wish when the small stuff happens that annoys us, the stuff we heap importance on, or that doesn’t make sense to our way of thinking,that we would see it for what it is: insignificant in the long term. 

Instead I wish I knew that if I was about to die I wouldn’t remember that my husband consistently put the whites in with the darks or that he doesn't always put the seat up. What probably would cross my mind would be "I wish I’d said ‘I love you’ more, I wish I’d been kinder and more understanding, I wish I'd spent more time with my kids, and I wish I’d been truer to myself". 

Days like today are precious because they remind us of the reality of our mortality, they give us perspective and inspire us to make more of the life we still have as we remember those that weren’t given that chance. We should stare at this disaster, we should soak in the pictures of grief and loss, we should try to fathom the feelings that would compel people to leap to their sure death and we should cry for them and for ourselves, especially if we are not truly living the life we have. In the end, when all is said and done, no one will remember our shoes, including us. 

As you watch the horror again, don't look away, stare at their faces and pay them tribute by celebrating the life you've been given today and hopefully tomorrow too.

©MyIdeaLife, 2011. All rights reserved. Images remain the copyright of their original source.

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Good Mum Bad Mum Good Mum...

Sometimes when you cry I find it threatening 

Sometimes when I can’t comfort you I feel a failure

Other times I understand and am calm 

Other times I know you’re anguish is not my fault

Sometimes when I can’t stop your pain it hurts me so much I panic 

Sometimes when you need me most I want to run away 

Other times I gather you up in a cuddle and cocoon you 

Other times I know what you want even before you do

Sometimes when your tiredness turns to groans it’s easier to get angry than put you to bed

Sometimes when you’re hysterical I leave you alone because my tension makes you worse 

Other times I listen until I understand your new words 

Other times I read and play and run and jump for hours and hours

Sometimes you’ll be doing nothing wrong, and I’ll assume the worst

Sometimes you'll be talking and I'll be distracted by doing, going, achieving

Other times I'll be patient and hear every word
Other times I'll explain why, as you deserve to understand the course of your own life 


Sometimes you're innocent and I'm damaged

Sometimes I’m a two year old too and barely manage 

What I didn't know then was that birth is the least shocking part of Motherhood

All the time I love you so much it hurts and I know I fail you sometimes, but I’m working so hard at being the grown up more times so I can always be your trusted guide, your calm in the storm and the one person that will never question the validity of you. 

Dedicated to my darlings: Bang and Crash

*Bang, my 2 year old son & Crash, my 10mth old son

©My IdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved 

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The distance between us [not quite wordless wednesday]

One day sooner than I hope these little feet will be larger than mine. 

So until then I cradle him in my arms, I balance him on my legs, I catch him if he falls and encourage him to fly. 

 © My IdeaLife, 2011, All rights reserved

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The love of your life

Mark Latham is not a man I ever, ever thought I would agree with on anything. For those reading who aren’t Australian he was our opposition leader for a short time until his various public meltdowns and alleged king hit saw him unceremoniously dumped from his role. 

Like another ousted leader, he keeps popping up in the media and is likewise usually ranting some sort of subjective, under-researched nonsense. But this week he said something on radio^ that I have to admit I related to; ‘...having children is the great loving experience of any lifetime’. This was shocking to me as not only did I agree with him, it now seemed we may have somehow been cosmically linked *horror!* because the day before I had started a post called ‘The love of your life’, of course about my boys.

Luckily Mark Latham wasn’t my inspiration, it was my eldest son, a mere 22 months on this earth, looking up at me and saying for the first time ‘whove you’ as I kissed him nigh-night on Sunday. Shocked and emotional I responded ‘Love you too’ while trying to hold back tears.

I felt my heart in my throat as I closed his door - I wanted to run back in and explain to him in vivid and intense detail how much I loved him, how even when I was tired and grumpy I loved him, even when I had to say no to him I loved him, even when I was away from him he’s always on my mind. But I exercised some self-control and instead started typing, sparing him but not you - sorry!

It got me thinking...despite my normal sleep-deprived tendency to have a good old complain, my boys are the loves of my life. In the many years prior to motherhood I spent an inordinate amount of time analysing, speculating and bumbling about looking for the ‘love of my life’. I also bored quite a few people senseless with endless ramblings that could have as easily been solved by pulling the petals off a daisy. And I mistakenly thought that my wedding was the final chapter in that quest.

I had no idea that there was a love in existence that so dwarfed the love between two adults. (I would have achieved a lot more if I had - damn you ignorance!) A love so huge it throws the whole equilibrium of your existence into turmoil. You start having wierd visions during everyday events. Crossing the road becomes a mini horror movie in your mind as you play out what an out of control car could do to the pram. When you see amazement, joy or fear in your childrens eyes you find yourself wiping tears from your face. You start putting yourself so badly last you sometimes forget to eat and your husband is lucky to get a sideways glance let alone some affection (don't even start me on intimacy!). It is literally mental, well initially anyway, and it’s as beautiful as it is torturous.

This unique and huge love has made me realise that there is so much in the world we don’t understand when we think we do. Mr Latham has copped a lot of flack for his comments about people who have chosen not to have kids. Someone saying publicly that they think child-free people struggle with empathy probably does deserve most of it. But as I read one emotionally-charged critique from a non-parent* it took me back to when I hadn’t had children and I remember thinking that all this hype surrounding the love you feel for your children was definitely over-rated and I honestly thought I would prefer a puppy. I was ignorant, not in a general sense I was just ignorant of what it felt like to be a parent and worse still, I didn’t know it. This didn’t make me any less valid, triumphant, empathetic or human, it just made me ignorant of what it was like to be a parent.

The simple fact is parenthood is inexplicable to non-parents. Parents don’t rave on about their kids to be hurtful or exclusive or to make people who haven’t had kids feel bad, we just say this stuff because we are so overwhelmed and amazed we can’t help gushing and carrying on about it from sunrise to sunset. It is an all-consuming, life changing experience. You want to tell the world. Unfortunately parents forget that there are a lot of people out there who just think we are mad, smug, stupid (see Baby Brain) and intentionally trying to make child-free people envy us. We get so wrapped up in our whirlwind we almost expect that everyone will understand and not only that, we want everyone we love to experience it too. *Squirm*

So If you’re not pregnant and sick of people raving on about the greatness of parenthood, be happy that you will do and experience things that parents will have to forgo because of kids. Like me now dreaming about one day resuming regular ablution habits, let alone the round the world trips I wish I could take#.

But if you are pregnant with your first now, just know you're about to be swept off your feet in every which way that is possible. And despite maybe missing out on a promotion at work or a trip to an amazing travel destination, you won’t regret a second of it once you’ve met ‘the one’.

Can you believe this is a viral promo for maternity bras?
I don't care I love it and invite you to write what you would tell your pre-baby self.

*One response to Mark Latham's comments by Janine Toms on Mamamia.com

^The full transcript of Mark Latham’s interview at ABC Radio National
#I’m turning down free travel as we speak because caring for two under two in a hotel room would likely see me stabbing myself with a pen and certainly see me so exhausted it simply wouldn’t be worth it.

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More sleep=less madness

It's amazing what a difference some sleep makes! So many mothers who have been there and done the two kids hellishly close together have kept telling me 'there is light at the end of the tunnel'. Well I think I am catching a glimpse of said light - hurrah! 

My sleep deprivation deprived me of so much more than sleep. Namely the ability to see anything clearly or logically, especially the new little human being growing up so quickly in front of me. In any case I felt obliged to write again so that all those poor women expecting their second won't curl up in a ball and start rocking after reading my first post. 

To you I say it has it's ups and downs and you may get a bub that happily sleeps from 11pm to 6am from 5wks like some in my mum's group have. Basically it is not as bad as I've made it sound - for some it is better, for some worse. Whatever your situation it is always more manageable on 5-6hrs sleep.

So lately my resentment has just faded and is being replaced by as strong a love as I have for my eldest. I can now see the positive side of all those negatives, even my husband made me laugh yesterday (!!!)  So all is well with the world again...until the next sleep-deprived night and subsequent brain snap hits. (Suddenly that scene in 'Parenthood' about the roller coaster makes sense).

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