A love story twelve years in the making

Exactly twelve years ago right now I was as anxious and terrified as I have ever been in my life. I was sixteen years old and in roughly the twentieth hour of my first labour. I had waited for this moment with equal measures of fear and excitement. After almost twenty two hours with one screamed expletive and a big push you arrived in my life all angelic blonde hair and blue eyes.

From the instant I held you and saw your eyes squint to look at me I knew, without a doubt that you and I were soul mates. You came to me when I needed you most and filled every void that existed in my heart.

Haedyn, today is your birthday, it marks twelve years on our journey together. Sometimes it feels like you were a baby just the other day and others I cannot remember a life without you in it. We have grown up together you and I. We have faced some really tough times and had some really happy ones. I cannot think of anyone I would rather have taken the journey with.

I want you to know now and forever that though you were not planned there was never a moment you were not wanted and loved. Your existence has made me who I am and driven me to always want more and to be better.

I am so proud of who you are, of your generous spirit and boyish charm. You are always looking out for the under dog, always standing up for the defenseless and show a maturity beyond your years.

I hope you never lose your lust for life and all things adventure. Keep climbing and jumping, keep kicking and catching.

I love you beyond what words could never describe and hope we have many more celebrations to share. Happy birthday my big boy, my first love and my reason when everything else seemed bleak.

May this next year bring you much joy and we edge ever closer to the teenage years.

I’ll love you until the stars don’t shine.




I may actually welcome a zombie army right now…

…that way my sole focus could be on surviving.

I saw something on Facebook earlier, I do not remember who posted it, where Emma Thompson was quoted as having said working women cannot be good mothers. There goes that idea then I suppose I will never be a good mother. Thankfully I am just logical enough to think providing basics like food and shelter outweigh my need to be a tree-hugger hippy mom who is all about crafts and kumbaya circles. There is a place for these types of moms, my family is just not the place.

Having four children means that at any given moment you are put in a position where you need to prioritise. One child’s activity may well trump another. A sick child may mean less help with homework. Exam time means the little kids get a little less of my attention. During dinner prep no one should reasonably expect anything from me as my sole priority for that time is getting dinner ready.

I have not had a haircut in over a year. I do not know what me time is. I dream about pedicures and movie dates. Realistically I cannot find the time let alone justify it when so many people always want something. Laura posted about how she copes here, the truth is I am jealous of her organised nature. I wish we had a granny who could/would help to give us a break. The only time we are ever alone as a couple is when we go grocery shopping. The only time I am ever alone is the five minutes it takes me to shower or use the toilet and even then often D will jump into the shower when I am about done to use it after me and Kyra does so love to join me in the toilet to detail, LOUDLY, what I am doing *sigh*

I have a full time job with its own demands. I have been back and forth between medical professionals with my mom in an attempt to get a real diagnosis and believe we may now be on the right track. I have tried to buoy her through her lows and reign her in on her highs. I have two kids getting ready to write exams, a four year old who is constantly threatening to kill people with anything from a teaspoon to a Sherman tank and a toddler who doesn’t sleep and when she does it is in our bed. A fat dog named Daisy who is more a cat/baby hybrid than an actual dog. She has a taste for chicken and doesn’t eat much else.

Somewhere in all the busyness of the last while I checked out of reality and spent a week watching nothing but Grey’s anatomy and Gilmore Girls which is not great when you are feeling a little down. I honestly think I can comfortably say I have been depressed for the first time in my life. I have had zero will to do anything. I am fat and miserable and feeling very sorry for myself in general.

That said today I woke up early and shook of the remnants of the ‘woe is me’s’ and have started to take more positive steps toward getting everything back on track.

I do not have an answer like Laura does. For now I am just bobbing around in the ocean taking deep breaths each time my head breaks the surface. Maybe soon I will be able to keep my head above water but for now I will take what I can get.