My husband and I have a weird habit. When we are arguing, as happens in most healthy relationships, we communicate better via text message. It’s strange, I know, and it doesn’t always mean the emotion is reduced, we just find it easier to… well, communicate. We find it easier to get things off our chest, we tend to articulate what we’re feeling easier than when we write, rather than when we speak. We’re not millennials, but we both have IT backgrounds, so I guess we have refined the art of ‘chatting’ online over the last 20-something years. There are others with whom I must verbally speak to in order to articulate what I’m feeling, where I cry it out over the phone or over a cuppa. My point is, everybody communicates differently, and it’s highly dependent on context.Read More
With International Women’s Day (IWD) being celebrated mere days ago, it feels like yet another opportunity wasted to actually start practicing what we preach. Referring to the sledgehammer that has and is being taken to Meghan Markle’s reputation, Serena Williams quite effortlessly said: “We must recognise our obligation to decry malicious, unfounded gossip and tabloid journalism. The mental health consequences of systemic oppression and victimisation are devastating, isolating and all too often lethal.” Indeed, celebrating, admiring and thanking women with a token Facebook post on IWD does very little to stop a culture of women tearing women down due to our own insecurities.Read More
It’s December 2nd, 2020 and Melbourne has been out of lockdown for 36 days, having been in strict lockdown for 188 days (the harshest of those being 112 days). And I’m still reeling from it. Politics aside, I’m struggling. I feel like I’m jamming what should have been spread across those 188 days into 60 days. And I suspect I’m not alone.Read More
Recently I felt the heavy cloak of darkness. While I often write during these times, I rarely publish them. But this time was different. I felt the draw of another who may benefit from knowing all these feelings are normal, regular feelings that no doubt we all feel from time to time. After a few days of feeling, I searched for a sign to pull myself from the depths and back to the light. It was in a simple quote that pulled me this time… (it’s not always that easy for me)Read More
This week my baby girl turned one year old. What an amazing year we’ve had chock full of joy, awe, cuteness and disbelief that this tiny human places her trust solely in us to help her grow. It has also been a year of coming to terms with helping this tiny human grow in an entirely different dynamic to my now 7-year old son. With no Nanna to hang out with, dote on her constantly or give me relief, I’m finding this parenting game at times… well… crappy.
The peculiar thing about death is that the world goes on around you, as if nothing has happened. You feel like you’re dying inside, like a part of your heart has just been taken. Yet the world around you goes buzzing along as if nothing has changed.
A few months ago, I was 9 months pregnant and walking into a hospital to be induced after my waters had broken 80 hours prior, labour failing to establish. Having birthed my first child at home and planning a home birth for this second child, I entered a world of “standard procedures” that I was not accustomed to.
**TRIGGER WARNING** mentions miscarriage, hospital birthing and procedures that may cause distress
Life in the 21st Century would be considered ‘madness’ to those living in prior to the 20th Century, don’t you agree? Unless you have found true balance in your work, home life and ‘you’ time, you’re one of the thousands of people who struggle each day to ‘fit it all in’. I find this interesting. And that’s mainly because I know that we all just want to be happy! And maybe you are, but are you really enjoying every moment of every day? Enjoying each day as if it were your last? Or are you just struggling through?
My mum died two and a half years ago. She was the matriarch of our family. She had a way of keeping us all together as much as she could and had established firm traditions for our family. After she passed away I, perhaps naïvely, tried to continue on the traditions she had established for our family. This, in particular, included Christmas time.
When I first fell pregnant with my son, almost 7 years ago, I took pregnancy for granted. We fell pregnant quickly and easily, there were no hiccups, no drama, virtually no nausea and everything went to plan as if a checklist were being ticked off. So after experiencing 3 miscarriages, to say I was nervous about becoming pregnant again would have to be my understatement of the year.