Tired Much ...

What a week … 

Too many blog posts in draft … too many early mornings … too many excuses to not hit publish … too many ‘I’m feeling sorry for myself’ moments !!

Monday I woke up feeling as though I had been hit by a truck. Sophie pulled yet another 5am wake up and I did NOT want to drag myself out of bed. It’s a simply feed and put back to bed (for both Sophie and I) but it just completely shatters me.

I thought the entire day was going to be a write off. I made myself a coffee and some porridge which I got to enjoy while Little Miss had a nap, when she woke we began our day in a whole new light. The weather last week was sensational so we took the blanket and some toys to the yard and took everything in.

From the trees swaying in the wind … to the birds chirping … to cars driving past … to Dakota refusing to lie with us. Our dog is a bit of a snob.

We even ventured out for a 4km walk to the fruit and veg market to collect the week’s goodies. It is amazing what a difference being in the outdoors and soaking up the sunshine can do.

My beautiful cousin and her two little girls came to visit on Tuesday, as did my sister. My cousin’s two girls are 22 months and almost 6 weeks old. Adorable. I have quite a few cousins but this one I am especially close with. She is 7 years my senior but ever since I got married something just clicked with us. Babies were always something she had dreamt about then my journey began into parenthood and she was always there. Her and her partner went separate ways a week prior to little Ava entering this world, I admire her strength each and every day, she is such an amazing Mum, someone I will always look up to.

Wednesday rolled around and presented me with another 5am wake up. Our weekly ritual of Mothers Group was here again and this time I had something to complain about. Each week I feel more bonded with these amazing ladies. All strangers 4 months ago and now we email and FB each other leading up to our next Wednesday catch up.

I got dressed up and went to the shops on Thursday, A better sleep meant the day needed to be taken advantage of. I shopped which has always been a favourite pastime of mine … perhaps I need to come to the realisation that it is in fact my addiction. Target were having a sale so stocked up on some more onesie’s in size 0 ready for the coming cooler months. Of course she already had some and probably didn’t need the 4 more that I bought but at $7.20 each I just couldn’t resist. Rob only knows about the top I bought her from Myer and that’s because it only cost me $2.45 … hello sale & $20 voucher.

Sorry babe as I do know that you read my posts.

Friday … aahhhh the end of the week, one day closer to the weekend … one day closer to spending time as a family … one day that would seem like it was lasting the duration of 3 days and I would be tearing my hair out by the end of it.

Sophie had the worst day with her teeth. Still no signs of one making their way through her tiny little gums but the pain … oh the pain … she definitely felt it.

I had 90 minutes of screaming and crying and more screaming. This is NOT how Sophie normally is. For 90 minutes I tried everything, rocking, patting, cuddling, mobiles, pacing the house until I was ready to walk out of the room while she cried her little eyes out then I made a decision. The thing that she has survived without for over 2 months, the thing she refused each time I offered it to her, the dummy.

I walked to the fridge and pulled the dummy out of the door, within seconds Sophie was sucking on it like there was no tomorrow, within seconds Sophie was settled, within seconds I had a sleeping baby.

She hasn’t become attached to it again which I was worried about, I haven’t needed to offer it to her since Friday which I am glad about. I have nothing against dummies, Sophie used one in the first few weeks but then refused to take it. All it is for me, I do not want her to get into a habit of sleeping with it and waking each time it falls out … 5am wake ups are bearable but 4-6 wake ups through the night is not my idea of fun.

This was a one off for my little girl; I honestly don’t know how Mums cope who have a screaming and crying child day in and day out. I admire them for getting through each day. All I am struggling with is an early start to the day.

I had an amazing weekend which made up for all of my tiredness throughout last week. Rob spent the entire day with us yesterday which is a rarity. After renovating for over 4 years I became so used to planning my days out which didn’t include him as he was always busy painting or building a deck. We caught up with friends for lunch, visited his Mum and then I had a night out with my girlfriends.

Today I lounged in bed until 9.30 … thanks babe !! I then walked to my parents’ house and settled in for an afternoon of footy watching and beer.

I hope you all had fabulous weeks and even better weekends.

What did you get up to?

Saturday Hurt

Is it always the people that are closest to you that hurt you the most?

I am sitting here tonight on the couch, red wine in hand, head POUNDING. 

I have had quite possibly the worst afternoon in goodness knows how long.

I don’t have the energy to go into detail tonight, but after tears being shed, my mind feeling drained and having the distance between someone so close to me heightened even more I just needed to get something down on these keys of mine and into blogger ready to hit publish.

It’s the tension relief that I need. This is why I have come to love my blogging journey, the outlet I needed to vent, to share both the exciting and the mundane.

As I get older and perhaps as he gets older the differences between us are made even more evident. No one can get through to him; he takes things too literally and says things that hurt.

I don’t agree with the way that he lives out his life but I don’t ever say anything negative towards him, I let him live out his life, I support him and I am always there if he needs.

I don’t know how to move forward from this. I don’t know how to make him see the hurt he is inflicting. I don’t want to be the person that makes the apology because I know it won’t help.

Hhmmmm my thai food has just been delivered – YUM – am planning on curling up on the lounge to watch Young Adult and forget about the terrible day that has just been.

The girl with the shoulder tattoo

You always run the risk when working in a female dominant office of experiencing bitchy crabby women who are over working and have been in their position for 10 years too long, but on the other hand you run the risk of getting along so well with a co-worker you miss going to work every day because it is now too long between visits.

I worked at my last job for 4 and a half years before resigning and taking up a better paying job however less exciting one. I stuck that out for 2 years where I earned good money and gained better experience, until I finally agreed to return to my old job after my boss had called me about 5 times begging me to return. It would be the same amount of money but working 5 days/wk instead of 4 but it would also mean working with a great group of women and also paid maternity leave. BOOYAH!

I re-commenced in my old hood in January 2010. I settled back in with a few new faces, some the same and it felt like home. A month later another position opened up. I remember the girls who came in for their interviews and each of us judged them by appearance, yep us women can be catty like that. One girl came in wearing a top which showed her tattoo on her shoulder, I remember thinking ‘why would she do that for an interview? Surely she should have covered that up.’

I never thought I would see that girl again.

A week later she returned, she was now the new girl.

We were less than a year apart in age, we were both brunettes, we had partners who seemed identical and we just got each other.

We would chat non-stop all day about … well … everything.

If either of us were sick, we would text.

Bitch sessions about the time it takes for the men in our lives to make a decision occurred on a daily basis. The purchases of a giant freddo in the afternoons would also be a daily occurrence.

We delved into each other’s personal lives, we were there for each other through terrible times, we organised a hens night together, we drank together, we watched the same crappy American reality shows because secretly we love them and she was one of the first people I told that I was pregnant.

Her parents’ names are Rob and Jane … of course we were going to get along.

I knew when I finished up to commence my maternity leave that she wasn’t going to be a work colleague that remained just that … a work colleague. 

I had coffee with her on Saturday and it was so nice to catch up with her. The lucky thing has just spent 6 weeks in Europe and Miami … jealous much … who me?!

I am so glad that my boss hired the girl showing her tattoo during an interview because without her we would never have met. I gained a friend, an amazing friend and one who I hope to always have in mine and Sophie’s lives.

She knows too much about me for her to not be in my life.

A Memory ...

Facebook … the bearer of news! Good and bad.

Last night whilst scrolling through my feed, I saw a status update ‘So happy for my baby brother Jamie and his beautiful wife Ro love you both.’

Jamie … he is my ex-boyfriend.

I was instantly excited for him. I will be honest, it felt a little weird hearing of this news but then I thought ‘why should it?’

I am married and have been for over 3 years, I have a beautiful little girl to said husband. There are of course no feelings there, I think when it is a clean break-up and you remain on talking terms, to know someone you once shared your life with has made that commitment still has a ??? feeling.

I lingered on this for a few minutes … I can’t think of what feeling you get, but it’s a feeling.

I wonder how he felt when he saw photos of my wedding, when he found out that I was pregnant?! He is a guy … he probably felt nothing.

I was 17 when I first met Jamie, at a friends 18^th. I turned 18 whilst we were dating; the dating period was all of 10 months. Feels like years when you’re 18.

We were with each other almost every day of these months, staying either at my parents’ house or his. He became part of the family; I became a part of his.

This to many wouldn’t seem like a relationship worth remembering, however, today as I type this I am 25 years of age (+ 7 months). We broke up when I was 18 + 5 months. We have been broken up for 7 years … wow that seems like a lifetime ago when I type that number. I have been with Rob for 5 years + 9 months. If my maths skills are anything to go by I was single for one month short of 18 months.

Rob was the guy after this break up.

During these 17 months of single life, I moved out of home, I partied like there was no tomorrow, I changed jobs, I dated and then I moved back home.

I grew up.

It was a clean break up. I moved on. He moved on.

Hearing this got me thinking ... do you hold onto photos from the past? I LOVE taking photos; anyone who follows me on Instagram would know this. I have oodles of photo albums from when I was about 15 to 21. Technology clearly evolved at this point and I now rely on FB, my iPhone and the laptop for my photo viewing.

I still have photos of Jamie in said photo albums. I don’t look through my albums very often but there are still photos in there. Is this something that you should destroy when you move on? Is this something that should never be viewed again by you or your new partner?

I haven’t kept them so I can have a perve … I have kept them as memories.

Memories of a relationship that didn’t destroy me, memories of my 18^th, memories showing who I was for 10 months of my life.

Rob has never expressed his concern of me not getting rid of every photo that has him in it, Rob himself has photos of his ex-girlfriend. Rob dated his ex for 10 years. 10 years is a long time to be with someone, I wouldn’t ask him to throw them away. That would be destroying a huge chunk of his life.

For 5 years + 9 months I have been creating new memories each and every day. Recording every moment (annoying Rob as he believes I take TOO MANY photos). I have compiled photo albums – real & online albums, these are the photos that I hold onto, these are the photos that I look over each and every day, these are the photos that matter, these are the photos that I will treasure for ever.

The others are a memory, a memory that will always be with me, a memory to look back on, just that … a memory!

Dada ... Dada ... Dada

Sophie continues her first word .... NON-STOP !! It is super cute though! She just laughs at me when I say MUMMA ... MUMMA ... MUMMA !

Our next chapter ...

Sophie began her solids journey last week. This meant my little not even 5 month old girl is not so little anymore.

I sat her in her high chair and she looked so tiny as she peered over the tray. She was so interested in what was on that spoon, opening her mouth so wide as that’s where everything goes isn’t it Mum? Anything she can get her hands on goes straight inside her little full lipped mouth. This was until the rice cereal made contact with her tongue. Her nose was screwed up, the tongue pushed the food out and she looked at Rob and I ‘what on earth WAS that?’

Each day is different, some days she is happy to have a few spoonful’s, other days she purses her lips and won’t let us anywhere near her with it.

I am really excited about introducing all of the foods to her as the weeks go by. I’m sure I’ll be mopping the floors a lot more than what I do at the moment.

This chapter of our journey just reminds me how quickly she is growing. She isn’t cradled like a baby much anymore, she is picked up from under the arms, no head support needed, already saying Dada … I can’t believe in 4 days’ time she will be 5 months new.

Where is the time going?!

The day Sophie said Dada !

I woke yesterday morning with such a surreal feeling. It was Mother’s Day, but this year was different. I would be on the receiving end of the day’s celebrations.

Rob completely spoiled me; I received PJ’s, a CD, Uggs & an apron. Everything I could have asked for and more. This celebration he really listened to my hints that I dropped along the way. Rob can be so sensible sometimes … the apron he bought me is black and red and his reasoning “I know you like the pink and white and really pretty ones but I thought that would just get too dirty as soon as you put it on.” Gosh I love him.

Sophie woke at 7:30am … yep these full nights of sleep have been amazing, we fed her then ventured to our favourite café for a brekkie date.

That was all I wanted, one of our favourite pastimes, just Rob, Sophie and I.

Once we got home I then prepared for my Mum’s turn of celebrations in the afternoon. My sister and I put on a high tea and it was so much fun. My Mum has all of the pretty high tea goodies which my sisters and I bought for her some years ago. Cups … saucers … cake stands … tea pots. Now I know what I would like for next year’s present.

Oh and one small thing occurred on my first day celebrating being a Mummy to the most amazing little girl … she said Dada!

That’s right … on the day that was meant to be celebrating ME, her Mummy … she comes out with Dada. It is very young for her to even say this so I’m trying to think that it is just a sound but she didn’t stop saying it and then again this morning she started with it again.

Rob just thinks it is hilarious. As you can see …