Sacrifice

Today I went and visited a client at the Children's hospital. She is a 15 year old girl who has cystic fibrosis and had a double lung transplant 2 years ago. Sadly this transplant has rejected and she is now on the waiting list for a second transplant. She is surviving on a bipap breathing machine. Its heartbreaking to watch. She was sleeping when I visited so I spent the entire hour with her mum and it really made me think about sacrifice.
Is this mother sacrificing something? She has sat at her daughters bedside for the last 6 weeks and will sit with her until she receives a transplant, possibly 6 months. Is she sacrificing a life outside of the hospital or is it no sacrifice at all??

Soldiers, every day sacrifice their lives to fight for their country. Their families sacrifice valuable family time to allow their husbands and fathers to be away for months at a time. Is this a sacrifice or is this a choice to make a "better" life for their families???

A guy and girl go on a date and the girl picks lemon pie and the guy orders chocolate mousse. Upon receiving their dessert the girl decides she would rather the mousse not the pie, so the guy sacrifices his mousse and gives it to his girl. Is this really a sacrifice?? Or is he choosing to keep his girl happy and subconsiously knowing that by her being happy he increases his chance of "loving" later in the night?

All of this made me think a lot, are sacrifices actually sacrifices, or are they choices we make to benefit ourselves in the long run?

why do we make sacrifices? Is it our choice or do we feel obligated?

When people are sacrificing something or feeling like they are constantly missing out or giving up on something and that they make sacrifices all the time. Is this when people lose their sense of identity?

Is there such a thing as a sacrifice????

To me a sacrifice would be giving up the best and being left with the not so good. So in the end you don't receive any benefit??? Do we choose this or is this something that happens naturally?

Cubby houses and life decisions.....

What to do??????

Life brings choice and opportunity and freedom. I think all those things are fabulous. Aren't we so lucky to live in a country where we are given the option and the availability of so many things.

It wasn't that long ago that women couldn't vote, that contraception was taboo. These things that often as women we take for granted. I often wonder if I lived in a different era....would I have burnt my bra?

I was given the opportunity at work today to increase my hours. They asked me to work an extra day, so increase from 3 to 4. They said I could do reduced hours on the extra day, maybe 9-3 instead of 9-5. They also offered me to take over the role and responsibility of a National education project. It is a real compliment to think that they believe I have the skills and capacity to do this project and they want me there for extra time.

But what do I want?????

I had Miss A over 2 years ago now. When I was pregnant we spoke about me and work. I always wanted to be a SAHM, I wanted to be there and watch my baby take her first steps and I wanted to bake cakes and go to coffee dates and park play dates. I wanted to be the mum who volunteered at the school canteen, who went on class excursions. The mum who had home made cookies fresh out of the oven after school. I believed I should be at home. I believed that for me that was the right and only place for me.

But life changed that's now not me. I am a working mum now and I'm ok with that. I don't love the thought of being away from Miss A. But i do know that she thrives at day care and she is thrilled to spend the day with her friends. I know that neither she or I is any worse off because of me working.

But do I want to be at work another day?

There are some days that I don't want to be a grown up anymore. I'd like to pack by back pack with my paper and crayons, some biscuits and juice and I would like to build a cubby house under the dining room table with a huge bed sheet. I'd like to take pillows and teddies and hide away and live im my imagination.

Obviously I can't, I'm 26 with responsibilities and an adult life.

So today there won't be any cubby houses and there won't be any escaping reality. I'll put on my brave hat and I will face life and make a decision. What that decision will be....I don't know. But this I do know. I love Miss A and she loves me. The amount of hours I work won't ever change that. I want her to be provided with the best that I can offer her. I want her to have a strong role model and I want her to see that no matter what choices you make in life, everything happens for a reason.


 

The Bug Invasion....

So upon moving to Sydney in July last year, I searched high and low for an appropriate apartment, in an affordable price range. This is point where you laugh and say Sydney, affordable, what a joke!!!

Well after only a month, I found an apartment in an amazing location, 10 min drive from work and from day care. There was no mould on the walls and when i walked in the front door the sun was shining through the windows and made it feel so light and open.

Well fast forward 8 months and some new neighbours have moved in next door and with my new neighbours came some disgusting visitors.....COCKROACHES. Small brown disgusting, revolting creatures.

Seriously I may not be Martha Stewart, house cleaner of the century. My apartment may not look like it is photographed for Vogue. But i am not filthy. I never have dirty dishes in the sink, I always wipe down the benches. My floors....ok my floors aren't always immaculate. But they get vacuumed at least twice a week.

SO WHY ARE THESE BUGS INVADING MY LIFE??

So a few weeks ago, suddenly i am awoken by this thing that dropped on my face, I swat it away to realise in my half asleep state that it was an oversized cockroach, which was now crawling around my bed. I throw my pillow across the room and watch this HUGE bug fly into the wall, it then starts scurrying through my house and I chase it. With a box of tissues and a large black high heel.
YOU CAN'T ESCAPE!!!!
During this process I was attempting to be super quiet as it was only 6am and Miss A was still sleeping.
Finally I attack the bug with some tissues and grab it off Miss A's bedroom door, before it can attack her in her sleep.
DEAD. IT IS DEAD. I KILLED IT.

Anyway since that day, I have dreams, no nightmares about these filthy creatures. They invade my thoughts, I chase them around the house to ensure that they are killed. NO cockroach will survive in this house.    

I set off a bomb in my house 2 weeks ago and well it has been peaceful in this tiny sunfilled home......until tonight. When out of a gap between my cupboards and my roof comes crawling not one, not two but FIVE filthy cockroaches. Well you will be pleased to know they are no longer alive, although I am sure that Miss A is now currently high on Mortein in her sleep. But that's the price you pay for bug removal.

Tomorrow at 9am. The Real Estate will have me to answer to. WATCH OUT cockroaches....your time in this house.....IS OVER!!!!

You are more beautiful than you think….

Today I watched a link from Dove, it was about a forensic artist who sat behind a curtain and asked women to describe their faces and he would draw them. Then he asked another person who they had got to know to describe the same woman. (not once did the artist ever see the woman’s face)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=XpaOjMXyJGk

It saddened me to see women describing themselves in such a negative way. At what point did women start to be so critical and so judgemental of our bodies and our looks.

When the women were shown the two drawings, it was blatantly obvious that the one they described about themselves was not as beautiful as the one the stranger had described.

WHY ARE WE SO CRITICAL?

I am just as bad as any other woman. I constantly criticise the way I look, how I dress, what I eat, how much I exercise, my hair, my thighs, and the list goes on. But at what point do we realise that other people might not see you that way.

I am terrible at accepting any compliment, whether it is from a friend, a family member or even a stranger. When did I start thinking this way, I have no idea.

But what I do know is that I want Miss A to love her body, to embrace everything about herself. I want her to accept herself the way she is and be happy to be proud of the way she looks. I don’t want her to grow up thinking that she should change or be critical of herself. That is too much of a burden for any young woman to have.

I don’t want my 15 year old daughter to question if her thighs are too big, or if chicken or fish has less calories. I want Miss A to have a healthy relationship with food, where she is happy to eat everything in a healthy way. To eat chocolate if she loves it, to drink full cream milk because she loves the flavour.

I once read that a beautiful woman is a confident woman. Well…..

I challenge myself (and you too) to stop every day for the next week and make one positive comment about how you look or about your body. Say something positive, mean it, embrace it and see if it changes the way you present yourself to the world.

I’m no super woman…..

Sometimes I think I create my own stress. There should be clause in parenting that says “you will never be able to do it all”. I think I can do it all, or I want to be able to do it all. My floors aren’t always clean, I always have laundry to fold, Miss A watches tv when she shouldn’t, I don’t always wear make up and we don’t eat vegetables every day.

As we all know parenting (whether alone or not) is a 24/7 gig. I don’t like to think of it as a job, but its definitely an experience, not something you do as a hobby or an occasional adventure. But it’s a full on, full time life changing, most rewarding experience of our lives. But don’t judge me when I say, sometimes I don’t always think of it this way.

Today Miss A was refusing a midday nap and in the process of encouraging her to lay down on her bed, she exploded with frustration and punched me in the eye with a set of keys. It was at that moment I walked away, I shut her bedroom door and I took 2 minutes outside her room. I was crying, she was screaming, but I knew that we needed time out, otherwise we were heading into a place of angry faces.

Thinking I could be blind forever, (slightly dramatized) I went back into her room and sat down and hugged her. ‘I sorry mummy, I hit keys in your eye’. Those few little words were enough for me to forget that I was angry. Forget that my eye was about to explode and remember that she is 2 and sometimes she can’t control all those emotions and thoughts that are travelling around her tiny head. So I squeezed her and kissed her and told her we were going to the park. Escape the apartment and feel the sunshine.

So I think it’s time to take off my super woman cape. Being on my own has forced me to focus on whats important. I can’t raise Miss A, work part time, have a clean house, bake fresh cookies every day and find time to sleep occasionally.

I was once a mother who baked home-made goodies 3-4 times a week, I would make home-made baby food, I cooked from recipe books with fresh ingredients, Miss A wasn’t allowed sugar until way past her first birthday. Now I cringe when I see that she’s eating a chocolate biscuit at 6.30am, has scrambled eggs for dinner and knows that at McDonald’s there are chippies.

DON’T JUDGE ME

I invite you to take off your super mum or super dad cape, whether you are a single parent or parenting in a couple. Take a breath, take a moment to focus on one important thing that you CAN DO and forget about everything else today. If everyone is wearing clean underwear and has food in their belly- no matter what it is. What else matters? Really is the world going to stop? No. take time out for YOU.

Being OKAY with who I am as a mum and what I can achieve, loving Miss A, enjoying each moment I spend with her and providing the best I can for her. That’s all I can do and I’m happy with that.

Flattery vs Creepiness

Went to get petrol, I was on my way back to the office after an intense counselling session with a client. My brain wasn’t focused on the world, but more on the millions of things waiting for me at the office.

Walked up to the counter and told the guy which number bowser and then stuck my card out indicating I wanted to pay on credit. Next thing he says to me, ‘you have very good looks’. I smiled and felt awkward but thought, oh well you gotta take them wherever you can these days. But it didn’t end there, he continued, ‘your eyes are beautiful’. Ok buddy I have work to do, let me swipe my card and just get out of here. ‘your eyes, you have Russian looks’. At this point I didn’t care if I was receiving a compliment or not. He was freaking me out!!!!

At what point is a random stranger saying something about your looks a compliment or just plain out weirdness. When you walk past a work site and the men whistle at you, in my younger years I found this offensive, I’m a woman not a dog, you filthy men. These days I secretly wish for it. If a strange man on a work site can notice me and whistle in my direction. I’ll take it. Maybe then I’ll strut my stuff just a little bit extra, smile for a little bit longer that day. I’m crazy I know.

Coffee disaster

Some days I think that it should be acceptable to drink wine all day long. Those are the days that I celebrate the invention of coffee. You will notice that I often speak about wine and coffee. Together they create a happy me.

When I open my eyes, the first thing I think about is that fresh hot cup of coffee. But then I am reminded by Miss A, ‘mummy I wee, I wee’. Of course there are more important things than my coffee.

Today I was placing my coffee cup on my nespresso machine, (who I lovingly refer to as George) when it slipped and shattered. I was devastated. Not because I had broken a glass, or that I now had to get the vacuum out and clean up my mess. BUT I was devastated that it was going to delay my happiness of drinking that glorious coffee.

Miss A ran into the kitchen and said ‘oh no mummy what’s that big noise’. Upon seeing the glass she boldly declared. ‘I help mummy, I help’. I think not little girl. Glass+toddler+bare feet=tragedy. So I battled her away with my free arm and picked up the glass pieces with the other. Obviously resulting in a cut finger, blood everywhere and Miss A being grossly repulsed at the disaster.

Really, a coffee addict should not have so much drama in the morning.

HAND OVER THE COFFEE AND NO ONE WILL GET HURT.

Don’t call me a single mum…..

So apparently this blogging concept has been happening around me, and I had zero idea. The idea really appeals to me. Therapy in words. If no one else reads my blogs that’s ok with me, but I think I will enjoy sharing my craziness. I’m not going to spend my blog talking about being a single parent, or my little girl. I will just share what’s going on in my crazy world.

I am a mum to a strong-willed and energetic 2 year old, Miss A, I work part time as a social worker and then I live the craziness of life. This style of parenting is fairly new to me, Miss A and I have been doing it on our own for nearly 8 months now (that’s a whole different story).

Single mum, this title doesn’t sit well with me. As an independent and very stubborn woman, I don’t like to think that people hear that “single mum” title and automatically doubt or question my abilities. And on the other hand, yes I am now separated from my husband and we are no longer married so therefore I am a single woman, but I don’t parent on my own. I have a fabulous family who help whenever they can, friends who go above and beyond to help me. So no I’m not a single mum, I’m a mum parenting on her own but with a huge support crew. You will hear me regularly mention my friends and family, because they are my strength. I couldn’t do it without them.

I’m no expert in single parenting, there are mums and dads out there who do it harder than me every day. I also am not one to say parenting on your own is harder than parenting as a couple. Because every family is different, we all have challenges. My ex who I will refer to as Mr Green is in the army and I was an army wife and army mum for nearly 7 years.

Parenting isn’t about a competition. I don’t want to get into the my life is worse than your life argument, because it’s probably not true.

Single parenting isn’t always about being poor and frustrated and exhausted and miserable and lonely. (Although it has its moments)

But single parenting is very different from the experience of family life. Unless you’re in it, sometimes it’s just too hard to understand.

Yes, your husband or wife might work away, they might not be a proactive parent and involved in the day to day running of your home and care of your children. But single parenting comes with some stereotypes, there’s the assumption that my child lacks discipline, or I bludged off the government, or that I might steal someone’s husband. But mostly, I think, single parenting is just scary.

It’s knowing that there is only one income coming into our house. That I am the only one keeping a roof over my child’s head and food in her tummy. That there is no one else to hold responsible if I make the wrong choice and let her dye her hair orange. It’s knowing your child will never know what it’s like to run into the other room and beg daddy for a treat because mummy said no. it’s knowing that if you get carted off in an ambulance, there will be an unimaginable mess around who looks after your child. It’s knowing that even if you are exhausted or emotional or at the end of your rope in one way or another, you’re still the only parent in the house, so you need to suck it up and keep going.

Of course Miss A has two parents and a wider family that adore her and would do anything for her. We laugh, we cry and we definitely live a crazy life. I think we are happy and I think she’s doing okay. But at the end of the day, when we get home from work and day care after a long day, it’s me and her, just the two of us, and she’s stuck with me.

And that is what’s scary.