This is what I was looking for when I found the article on how to be a happier mum. Yes, I got distracted,... but this is a good simple article on how to focus on something enough to see it through to completion.
Now I just need something to help me with those distracting thoughts.
Thursday 6 September 2007
My old blog, Destination Digest, is still online
If you have the strange desire to catch up on my back story, go to http://destinationdigest.tripod.com. I was surprised to find it still online. I haven't logged on to tripod in many many years. I wouldn't have a clue what my password is or even how to get it updated. But my old blog remains there like an old friend, a reminder of all the angst and struggle of infertility and missing my wonderful friends (and great times) in Melbourne.
Check it out some time. Marvel at how far I've come,... cry with me on my tragic pursuit of motherhood. Rejoice now, as I do (when I'm not moping) in being a mum and all of its joys and challenges.
This afternoon my daughter told me I was mean because I wouldn't let her eat chocolate for lunch. It cut me to the core. She got heaps of chocolate for dessert after she ate her lunch of reheated mince and vegies. I gave more than she really should have because I didn't want her to think I was mean. She's called me mean a couple of times lately. I'm surprised how much it hurts me. She says "love you" to Scott before bed, but she doesn't tell me that. I just get told I'm mean. It hurts.
I know she loves me. I'm the one she clings to for cuddles and safety,... I just don't want to be called "mean".
[sigh]
Check it out some time. Marvel at how far I've come,... cry with me on my tragic pursuit of motherhood. Rejoice now, as I do (when I'm not moping) in being a mum and all of its joys and challenges.
This afternoon my daughter told me I was mean because I wouldn't let her eat chocolate for lunch. It cut me to the core. She got heaps of chocolate for dessert after she ate her lunch of reheated mince and vegies. I gave more than she really should have because I didn't want her to think I was mean. She's called me mean a couple of times lately. I'm surprised how much it hurts me. She says "love you" to Scott before bed, but she doesn't tell me that. I just get told I'm mean. It hurts.
I know she loves me. I'm the one she clings to for cuddles and safety,... I just don't want to be called "mean".
[sigh]
Tired of the plod?
I love being a mum. I love motherhood,... but sometimes my mood is pretty low. Dangerously low. It does turn into a plod more often than not. Today it's freezing cold, we're housebound because of the pooring rain. We don't have a car so we can't go and try and find something interesting to do. After weeks of rain, I'm over this. I'm pretty sure Grace is over it too. Let's go watch Play School. [sigh]
I found a great article about how to be a happier mum - http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/parenting/02/15/par.happier.mom/index.html. It's worth a read if you're struggling to find the joy in the day to day trials of toddler taming.
I found a great article about how to be a happier mum - http://www.cnn.com/2007/HEALTH/parenting/02/15/par.happier.mom/index.html. It's worth a read if you're struggling to find the joy in the day to day trials of toddler taming.
Sunday 2 September 2007
I should be writing.
Despite the fact that my mantra is "I should be writing", I have been enjoying a few craft projects lately. In fact, I am enjoying them far too much. I've been having a wonderful time constructing a couple of things out of paper mache - a tray (cross between a serving tray and a document tray) which I'm considering finishing with decoupage, and a floral motif copied from my doona cover.
Yesterday, though, I started work on a latch hook rug made from recycled plastic bags. Here's where I got my inspiration from: http://www.thriftyfun.com/tf32710164.tip.html. A few weeks ago I read about bags crocheted from old shopping bags. These bags (http://www.myrecycledbags.com/) are great, but I can not crochet. In fact, crochet fills me with almost as much rage as sewing. That's a lot. Latch hooking, on the other hand, is suitably simple and forgiving and beautiful for a klutz like me.
I have plans, after I've finished the recycled plastic doormat, to get some rag bags from the Salvation Army Op Shop and make a rug out of fabric scraps. I decided that I'm going to dye all the rags red, no matter what colour they are to start with. That way the blues will be reddy purple, the yellows will become orange, the greens will go reddy brown. In the end it will be like these people who get blonde foil highlights and then put a tint over their whole head. Despite the fact that their hair is various different colours, the tint over the top ties it all together in the end.
Several Christian and secular teachers discuss the concept of separation of self. In A More Excellent Way (http://www.themoreexcellentway.com/), Pastor Henry Wright says the root of all disease is caused by separation from God, separation from others or separation from self. Separation of self is not being true to yourself and who you are. Frankly, I've lived my entire life like this. I'm still working at finding out who I am. I've been living for someone else's expectations since I was tiny,... that's what I understood as being a good girl. I understood it to be swallowing any desires of my own, quashing my feelings and doing as I was told. As an adult this developed into trying to second guess people, anticipating what I thought they wanted me to say and saying it.
The real shame of it is that I never developed the ability to adequately communicate myself or who I am. That's why I became a writer. It's the only place where I can be true to myself. I can say what I think or feel, and if I think someone else won't like it then I don't show them what I've written. It's therapeutic to say what I feel, to say what I need to say. It's about pulling myself together. Yes, I self medicate with junk food, but I also self medicate with writing. At least that's a slightly healthier pursuit.
A little message from Grace.
ruyhdhgfdyfvhv ijhtle yg7
Followed by "eeee-oooohh eeee-oooohh eeee-oooohh". She's just recently learned the sound that a fire engine makes. Cool.
Yesterday, though, I started work on a latch hook rug made from recycled plastic bags. Here's where I got my inspiration from: http://www.thriftyfun.com/tf32710164.tip.html. A few weeks ago I read about bags crocheted from old shopping bags. These bags (http://www.myrecycledbags.com/) are great, but I can not crochet. In fact, crochet fills me with almost as much rage as sewing. That's a lot. Latch hooking, on the other hand, is suitably simple and forgiving and beautiful for a klutz like me.
I have plans, after I've finished the recycled plastic doormat, to get some rag bags from the Salvation Army Op Shop and make a rug out of fabric scraps. I decided that I'm going to dye all the rags red, no matter what colour they are to start with. That way the blues will be reddy purple, the yellows will become orange, the greens will go reddy brown. In the end it will be like these people who get blonde foil highlights and then put a tint over their whole head. Despite the fact that their hair is various different colours, the tint over the top ties it all together in the end.
Several Christian and secular teachers discuss the concept of separation of self. In A More Excellent Way (http://www.themoreexcellentway.com/), Pastor Henry Wright says the root of all disease is caused by separation from God, separation from others or separation from self. Separation of self is not being true to yourself and who you are. Frankly, I've lived my entire life like this. I'm still working at finding out who I am. I've been living for someone else's expectations since I was tiny,... that's what I understood as being a good girl. I understood it to be swallowing any desires of my own, quashing my feelings and doing as I was told. As an adult this developed into trying to second guess people, anticipating what I thought they wanted me to say and saying it.
The real shame of it is that I never developed the ability to adequately communicate myself or who I am. That's why I became a writer. It's the only place where I can be true to myself. I can say what I think or feel, and if I think someone else won't like it then I don't show them what I've written. It's therapeutic to say what I feel, to say what I need to say. It's about pulling myself together. Yes, I self medicate with junk food, but I also self medicate with writing. At least that's a slightly healthier pursuit.
A little message from Grace.
ruyhdhgfdyfvhv ijhtle yg7
Followed by "eeee-oooohh eeee-oooohh eeee-oooohh". She's just recently learned the sound that a fire engine makes. Cool.
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