Image from: here.
My home is filled with love….
and I wouldn’t have it any other way!
What’s your home filled with?
Image from: here.
Sweet dreams, my love.
Dreams can be fun. They can also be heart-pounding scary. Others are hallucinations of sorts. Dreams where you are falling are supposed to be bad. Some are a wake up call and others should be given no heed at all. The worst is when you’re in the middle of a really good one………..BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Time to wake up.
have had a dream. It wasn’t as awe-inspiring as Martin Luther King’s (whose speech I love and I wasn’t even born when he delivered it). On Saturday night I dreamt that Steve, my husband of 7 years, was gone. Not gone as in ‘not here anymore’ but gone as in ‘had left me’. Now I’m not a big dream analyst and I haven’t even Googled it to see what it might have meant (dreams are sometimes really not about what they’re about at all). To me it was clear that my subconscious was sending me a message through a megaphone.
This, combined with reaching a milestone got my brain ticking in overdrive.
It ticked right back to the beginning of this adventure. Not my journey through life. I love to talk but not that much. But here’s just a little history to unveil the mystery of me:
I am an almost-40 wife and mother of two boys. I am a teacher, sister and aunty.
I am a recovering perfectionist, perpetual clean freak and don’t like hats but wear many virtual ones.
My home is in South Australia and I love where I live.
I’m an ideas person until I pick the crap out of them and realise it won’t/can’t work long-term.
I suffer from the S.A.D.S (seasonal affective disorder/syndrome). Winter gives me the shits. I am a heat seeker that must have a vitamin D deficiency.
- I LOVE to laugh and do nowhere near enough of it.
- I stay away from bad news on TV. I’m a fairweather friend of news reports who finds it difficult to process all the bad things in the world that I can’t fix.
I am also a lover of words. English, specialising in children’s literature, was my major at University. I.T was my minor. I crave to write like a druggie craves the next fix.
I am a visual person too. My first love was Art, particularly Design. I wanted to ‘be a Graphic Designer’. Teaching was my second choice (yeah, I know-‘those who can’t do, teach’).
So I packed my bindle and off I set. I know it’s not a big deal but I am autodidactic by nature. Someone who seeks out new things to teach themselves. Free Little Words began on January 1st this year after I’d thought about starting one for nearly 12 months. It has been awesome, to say the least. I have learnt bucket loads and it won’t stop here (this isn’t a goodbye speech).
I am coming full-circle back to the
dream nightmare now. Change is called for by me (these next two paragraphs are a bit whingey if you’d like to skip them). This blogging stuff takes a lot of time. We all know that. Anything worth doing can’t be completed in a jiffy. For me, I know I need to streamline the way I do things to ensure it takes as little time as possible while still doing a fantastic job. I don’t start something and not finish it to the best of my ability.
I don’t want to lose my husband (he assures me he’s not going anywhere) and I don’t want to take time away from my kids (after their bed time is the usual time reserved for all things bloggable). The other day I spent six hours looking for the right image for a post. I know, six hours. Ridiculous! Did I find it? No, because it didn’t exist. So I made it myself because it had to be right (I did say I was a recovering perfectionist). When I started my blog I did all my images myself. That was the time consuming part. Here’s the perfect example. I used to let the image do the talking as I wasn’t sure what to say. I pumped out 54 words on that post. Like when meeting a new friend, I was shy and hung back. Now I find it hard to keep under 400 words. All of my images have come from the internet now for quite some time but I have lost that sense of uniqueness. And all of that is just to complete my post. One must not forget the importance of the Reader, commenting, replying to comments, finding the next awesome blogger you wanna hang out with and please don’t let a negative word escape my lips about the time taken to complete awards.
So I’m going to go back to where I started, where the enjoyment was. The only difference this time is I’ll be drawing them not photographing. I love taking a line for a walk as you never know where it will take you. I’m going to take baby steps and do one a week.
I’ve got other plans I want to implement but I’ve word bashed everyone enough for now so I’ll leave it there.
Dream a little dream of love.
Does your mind boggle when you think about the mammoth task raising children is?
Many people seem to think they muddle their way through or follow some type of process. Most also find the need to adapt to the ever-changing needs of their child/ren.
I’d like to think that I’m ‘training’ my little fellas using many methods. I couldn’t write a book on it as no one would be able to follow it. All I know is that I use my heart. Yes, I have those moments where I go off my noodle or show less than the required enthusiasm as I drag my heels to 730pm. Those moments are far outweighed by my desire to show the kids that I mean business when it comes to loving them.
Recently my brain cells played boggle over Almost 6’s desire to play basketball, soccer and football all through the Winter months. I’ll share my thoughts when the game is finished.
What mind-boggling conundrums have you faced?
Live for love.
Image from: here.
P.S I just noticed boggling rearranged is blogging. How pertinent.
Love has left the building.
The kids have been tucked in and everything has been ticked off the list but apologies will be left here tonight as I have no love left for you. Sorry everyone.
air love supply has been expended. I had to be the giver of love for two today.
The better half of me had an impromptu overnight ‘date’ with a nurse or two. More of the hospital love story at a later date. For the purpose of keeping this short I had both the Mum and Dad hats on today.
The opportunity was given to me to experience what all flying solo parents do every day (kudos to all the one-wo/man-bands). I only had to survive one and believe me that’s all I did: survive. That’s a good thing though, right? I didn’t curl into the fetal position or start speaking in pig latin. So there was ‘something’ good about today.
Plans are being prepared for tomorrow. It’s going to be a love fest.
Tomorrow is going to be the longest day of the year for those of us in the Southern Hemisphere who turn our clocks back in a couple of hours. Now I’m a type A person who won’t sleep any longer than normal mainly because the kids won’t let me. Pre-children I would have sucked up that hour in a jiffy and used it in dreamland. That won’t be the case tomorrow.
I’m going to make full use of that hour. Most of us wish for more hours in a day. That wish comes true for me tomorrow. What could I do with one more hour? Should I lavish my kids with an hour of Mum power and love the knickerbockers off my whippersnappers? Maybe a visit to a playground, roll on the grass with them and do some belly laughs? Or should I take the hour and practise some self-love and return a better me? Grab a cuppa to go and then find a peace-filled sunny spot for me, myself and I?
Which option should I take and what should I do in that 60 minutes? Suggest away, lovelies.
Image from: here.
Four letters to love.
Four strokes of a pen.
An immensely powerful word: spoken or written to someone who resides in your heart.
Love can also be felt without words. An embrace can convey it, a look can speak of it and a heart can be warmed by it.
I met love for the first time when I was about 8. Our Christmas present that year was a kitten. Love was defined for me that day. Kimberly was her name and she was a member of our family for about 14 years. This was despite being attacked by a dog one day when I was off school due to illness in my teens. If I hadn’t been home…… I have fond memories of my first four-legged love and she still holds a special place in my heart.
The word love was used frivolously between then and meeting my husband in 2003 on my sister’s hens night. Love took on a new definition from that moment on.
In my 30’s I found a new definition of love that I had never known possible.When my boys were born that four letter word was redefined to that of a mother’s love. And as any mother knows there is nothing with which it can be compared. I love my mum but have a deeper appreciation of her love for me since having my own children.
I am the proud keeper of love in my heart. First loves, loves lost, loves treasured.
One word, many definitions.
Love is a word I love.
Image from: here.
Image from: here.