Full Disclosure

I’m not doing great.

Last night I felt so sick I was in bed by 8:15pm and asleep by 9pm. I was exhausted and completely over everything. This morning the kids were actually amazing. They were helpful and kind to each other, but I was still utterly spent. We walked and scootered to school, and I dropped the boys off at kindy. As we got to school, Chance realised he had left his show and tell at home. I was irate. I had reminded him about it before we left, and yet he’d still forgotten it. I could feel the tears coming. After huffing and puffing about it being his responsibility, I told him angrily that I would go home and get it for him. Tears were escaping my eyes, but I hid behind my floppy hat and sunnies.

I prayed I wouldn’t run into any of my lovely school mum friends. (Sorry ladies ๐Ÿ™ )

I went home, grabbed the bag and drove it up to school. When I dropped it off, I was kind and loving, as I would like the kids to be with me and each other. I told Chance I love him and that I would see him in a couple of days.

So I’m not doing great.

But it feels good to say so.

I’m working closely with my psychologist and my GP. I’m tired of feeling this way; this lack of hope and joy is kind of a buzz-kill. And as I’ve mentioned, it’s easy for me to hide, as I’m good when I’m with people. But not so good when I’m just with my kids. I get tired and frustrated and irritated and I wonder if I’m always going to feel this way; I wonder why I feel this way and what I can possibly do to turn things around.

It actually pisses me off greatly, being pissed off (seemingly) all the time.

Thank you to everyone I’ve been leaning on more so than usual.

I listened to the Armchair Expert episode with Brene Brown on the drive down to the Gold Coast today. Side note: I’m in love with Dax Shepard. Oh my heart! And my head! One of the heart and mind-blowing moments I had was about how to be a fully functioning member of a society, it’s not about being completely independent, it’s about being someone on whom others can depend.

I used to be that person. For better or worse, that used to be a huge part of my identity; of what defined me. I was dependable; I was available to help out; I was always looking for ways to be of service to others, and it filled my tank; it filled my heart; it make me feel useful and valued and loved.

That is a huge part of me that I feel like I’ve lost in the last two years.

I also lost the identity of being a wife.

To say that I’m having an identity crisis is putting it lightly. Yes I’m a mum. I feel like that is my only remaining identity. And that is really hard. I love being a mum. LOVE it. But I can’t just be a mum. I need to regain some sense of myself.

But I’ve also changed so much since Frith died. It’s not about feeling like my old self again; I have come to realise that will never happen. But if I can have snippets of my old self; moments; flashes of joy; that will be enough to sustain me while I get to know Renae 2.0.

Of course I will bring my history with me; probably even most of my baggage, but I’m hoping to offload bits of it here and there as I continue along.

Oh boy. What an unload. The people-pleaser in my wants to reassure you that I’m fine. I guess I’m not fine but I’m okay. And I’m going to get better. (I have to keep telling myself this.) And if I offer to do something for you, please let me! It will help me as much as I hope it will help you.

I’m off to a Hen’s night, then a wedding on Sunday. Big time tank-filling coming up. Much love xxxxx

Celebrity Crush

I’ve always had a thing for Keanu Reeves. In true 90s style, I had his posters plastered all over my bedroom walls, thinking one day maybe, just maybe, we would meet and he would fall instantly in love with me.

Then… Mmmm hmmmm…..
And now… oh yeeeaaaaah….

I moved on to other stars such as Matt Damon and Bradley Cooper more recently, though the posters haven’t made it to my bedroom walls… yet… ๐Ÿ™‚ Keanu will always be my first celebrity crush though.

But the other night I had a dream that I married Liam Hemsworth. Right?? When I woke up in the morning, I lay in bed thinking “well he is Australian, which would make things a little easier.” It’s all about the logistics, clearly. “It’s a shame he’s already married.” (There’s an insight in to my morning brain you weren’t expecting!!)

A few hours later, I was scrolling through the news only to find that Liam and Miley had split up!! Coincidence??? I think not people!!!! So if anyone knows Liam, (hey, it’s a small world) feel free to give him my number, as it seems we were destined to be together!

Well hello there ๐Ÿ™‚

I’d like to thank the Academy

Look it was a team effort to be honest. It’s a really big deal and it’s really hard to accomplish eight hours of solid, only once-interrupted sleep as a mother of four children under eight. I just couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help.

I’d like to thank my son Chance, even though you did come in to my bed during the night, you were like a Ninja and I didn’t even notice, so thank you my darling. I’d like to thank my daughter Quinn, for not losing your “Dadda shirt” off your bunk bed during the night and calling out for me to retrieve it. You’re such a sweetheart.

Thank you to my darling Darby for sleeping in your bed all night long and not having to get up to go to the toilet. What a champ! And my baby Julius, even though you woke up at 2am, I brought you into bed with me and you went straight back to sleep. After the rough couple of weeks we have had with 5am wake ups, and even one 4:45am, waking up with you at 6am was just heavenly. I felt like I could conquer the world!

Let’s try it again sometime team!!!

<awards music comes on, drops mic, walks off stage>

A promise

Look I know today is the 10th. I have my list of 10 things I want to share with you but I have had no time today to pad that list out and make it into a blog post. Some days in these holidays I’ve had all the time in the world. Today was not one of those days.

I was going to do it this evening once the kids were in bed and the dishy was on, but instead we decided to have 8 people over for dinner (10 including us) which made for a busy and lovely evening. The dishy is only just on now and I can’t do my list justice so here’s what I’ll do: tomorrow it will be 11 things on the 11th. Deal? Good. Cos I’m knackered and off to bed.

Tomorrow morning my Woollies order will arrive sometime after 6am, the tiler will be here at 7, and the cleaner arrives around 9. Then I’m taking the kids to playgroup (aka fight club) and then mummy yoga at 1.30. Then we will wait with anticipation for Kate and the boys to arrive for the week!

Night night xx

It owes me nothing

This is my dishwasher

I’d say we bought it two years ago but we actually acquired it through a Gumtree ad. For nothing. In fact I think the “seller” may have even dropped it off to us. We were advised that it should work once the control panel was fixed. Challenge accepted by Hubs and we had a working dishwasher.

It also needed a thorough clean out that thankfully I was not involved in. Apparently it was a little gross but it did the trick!

Guys this dishwasher is awesome. If you’ve ever come to stay, you will have been treated to my raving about its awesomeness. The heat that this thing produces means everything comes up sparkling clean. Either that or melted – some things just aren’t meant to go in the bottom rack.

It does have its quirks. You have to use a toothpick to turn it on and choose the cycle. There were screws in place as buttons but they have since fallen out, and to be honest the toothpick gives it a child-proof function that I like. Because Darby likes buttons.

Unfortunately it is is starting to play up a little. The latch is broken so now I have to use sticky tape to close it for each wash.

And it sometimes comes up with an F4 error which, after a Google search is something to do with the temperature. The troubleshooting for it? Switch it off and on again and it should work. It does.

I’ll be so sad when it does eventually die. If it lasts the rest of the year it will be a miracle! Maybe I should start keeping an eye out on Gumtree for our next bargain…

Today was nearly day 1

Day 1 of not blogging that is. I still haven’t decided what I’m writing about. Hubs is giving some (not so helpful) suggestions.

Another weekend over. More work was done on the ensuite yesterday. Renovating while living-in is the pits let me tell you. I did a bit of real estate research for renting this place out next year. 2 years ago the rental market was booming but now, well it’s also the pits. All the money we have put into the place may not exactly pay off. This makes me sad and stressed.

But not regretful. This house was a renovators delight and even though it drives me insane sometimes, the positives of living here, mainly our neighbours, makes it totally worthwhile.

I just did a very long blink so it’s time to say goodnight now. Another random bloggy post. Who even reads this nonsense!? Ha!

My Husband doesn’t care about my losing weight

Bear with me here.

Aaaaah losing weight. It’s a mission, isn’t it? Well, for some more than others. It can be a lifelong quest, with many ups and downs. Literally. Ever since Hubs and I got together 9 year ago (what the?…) he has never waivered in his admiration of me. Wow that sounds conceited, but it’s true. He thinks I’m beautiful and sexy and lovely. Even at my heaviest, his affections never waned. He just doesn’t see it. He sees me.

What a gift, right? And I do treasure it, I promise.

Whenever I’ve spoken to him about wanting to lose weight, or the latest gym membership I’ve paid for, or the latest class I’ve joined, he has always been encouraging, but never in a way that suggests to me I need to do it for him, or for us. In fact, the only thing he has ever said along these lines is “I believe if you lost weight,ย you would be happier because you would have more energy to do more with the kids, but it makes no difference to me.” Or words to that effect.

I remember in my late teens, my brother’s then-girlfriend and I attended Weight Watches together. She was wanting to lose about 10kg and I was probably wanting to lose more like 25kg. We would go to our weekly weigh-ins and my number barely budged, while she was losing her 1kg ish per week. I recall saying to my brother one day “I hope you’re being really supportive and encouraging of Deidre’s* weight loss!” (*oh wow, Deidre? Talk about protecting the innocent! Love that name by the way…) He replied to this with a bit of a shrug and a non-committal hmph.

I was so shocked and appalled and felt so bad that my brother was so insensitive! I was 19 after all, and knew all things about all things. Just ask my Dad ๐Ÿ™‚

Oh man this is a random post. 2 glasses of wine and a returned husband from the UK will do that to you! Where was I…

Oh yes. My brother. What I realise now, was that he was saying he liked her just the way she is, and if she wanted to lose weight, she was doing it for herself, not to make him love her more. Oh yeah, I was so cluey.

So what’s my point here? I was wearing a denim skirt and “new” (op-shop $4) singlet today, and was feeling particularly svelte (hee hee!) when I went to pick Hubs up from the airport, but nary a comment was made. And that’s fine by me. If I ask him how I look, he will always say beautiful. If I tell him I’ve lost another 2kg, he’ll tell me “that’s great”. But it’s not a big deal, and to be honest, that’s just how I like it. I want to instil that in my kids. A number is just that; it doesn’t define you; it shouldn’t change how happy you are on a certain day. I get that, but sometimes it does.

That’s why I’m so grateful to have a Hubs that loves me from frocked up to completely veged out on the couch. He doesn’t love me in spite of my extra cuddly bits, he loves me because I’m the whole package for him. I guess. Either that, or he really loves my cooking. Which would be fair enough ๐Ÿ˜‰

So my point is, even though I’m losing weight, the only thing Hubs cares about is how happy I am. And if weighing less, and in turn feeling fitter and healthier makes me happy, then he’s on board.

Dear Woollies laser lad

Hi! Remember me? You put my groceries through your checkout yesterday at around 5pm. I was the slightly frazzled looking lady with an adorable baby boy sitting in my trolley. You greeted me with an apology for taking so long putting the previous customer’s groceries through. You said you just weren’t on your game that day. I assured you that I hadn’t noticed.

We exchanged a few pleasantries; you asked how my day was, I said it had been fine; you asked where I had purchased my shopping bags, I told you I bought them at DFO in Brisbane, and so forth.

I started watching you pack my bags, and I must agree you were not on your game at all.

I’m one of those very considerate shoppers who groups like-items together on the belt so that a) it’s quick and easy for you to pack and b) it’s ย quick and easy for me to unpack at home. You should be so lucky to have me as your customer. I then tended to my baby boy and took no notice of your packing.

Let me just say here that I thank you, and appreciate that you have obviously looked at me and thought to yourself “now here’s a woman who has it all together. Here’s a woman who will be unpacking the shopping as soon as she gets home.” No really – that was so sweet of you.

The reality is, if one lot of shopping gets unpacked before I head back to the shops a few days later, I’m doing well.

So it rather perplexed me when I was loading the bags into the back of my car, that you had loaded up one of the cooler bags to overflowing and ridiculously heavy, and had only put one item in the other cooler bag. It happened to be meat and I almost didn’t even notice it in there and almost left it in the car thinking it was empty.

And then this morning’s discovery. I had only managed to unpack the cold stuff when I got home last night, and again I appreciate that you would think I would make a mental note of everything I was putting away, but alas I didn’t. So when I opened up one of the bags to put the sweet potatoes, potatoes and pumpkin away, I discovered the fresh lasagne sheets and 3 stray kids yogurts.

What the hell.

Lucky for you I’m able to breathe deeply and roll my eyes and move on, but not before blogging about it.

So thanks for the blog fodder, but next time please use your noodle.



Why am I sticky?

This was a question card that was drawn in a game of Cards Against Humanity on our family trip to Sorrento in March. The round was won by my father-in-law with an hilarious answer that’s a bit too rude to share on my little blog. I wasn’t actually in the room for that round – I was downstairs tending to the kids, but the raucous laughter that echoed down the stairs ensured that I enquired as to the source when I returned to the land of the adults.

Today I found myself muttering that question as I sat down at the table. “Why am I sticky???” And I find myself asking that question more than once a week. The answer is usually either jam or tomato sauce. But can also be any number of things. I just always hope that it is food and not something that has been dragged in on the bottom of a gumboot. Ugh. Or worse…

Anyway, today it was strawberry jam. And tomorrow? Only time will tell…

Update: yoghurt! That’s the other regular culprit…

Nearly bed time

Over the last seven days, four out of the five members of this family have been hit with a nasty bout of gastro. I am the only one left standing. As it got passed to each family member, it got worse for that next person in line. Hubs was the latest victim, with it hitting him at 1am this morning. And boy was it a nasty 12 hours. Darbs had already started it during the day yesterday, so between the two of them, plus having Chanbe and Quindy in bed with me (Hubs ended up in Chanbe’s bed), not much sleep was had.

And now everyone is in bed, asleep, but me. And it’s been that way since 7:30pm. But I have things to do – folding to put away (check!), kindy lunch to make (check!), travel arrangements to make for Hubs (in the process right now), and chai tea to drink (check!).

I just can’t do it people! I can’t get my head around going to bed early. And by early, I mean before 10pm. I am happy to go to bed around 9:30 and read for a bit, but that’s pretty much where I draw the line. Especially when I have the house to myself (*sigh*) and can enjoy my cup of tea without interruption.

I had a list of things to get done today, but since Quindy couldn’t go to her kindy, and with Darbs and Dadda to look after, the only thing that got done was the mandatory washing that comes with having gastro go through the house. I really really really hope I’ve been able to avoid this round. And I’m really really really glad it didn’t happen next weekend, when we have people coming up for Darby’s Baptism!

It’s all in the timing.

Okay. It’s nearly 9pm. I’m going to log off, brush teeth, get ready for bed, and as you know, this might mean I get to bed by 9:30…