big shoes, big fall

So I’m a mum of 4 young women. No real news there. My house is filled with vaginas and I have always loved it. I mean I yearned for a little man, for a long time, I think because social norms told me I was defective for not producing one. Anyway, I got side tracked. The challenges for the last 6+ months in our house for one of our young ladies has been slowly escalating and we have tried everything to get her to see past her own wants, needs and desires. 

My heart had started to show shows of breaking apart, because what she was saying and doing was slowly tearing our world apart. It’s been like the cancer that had already smashed our world into pieces was regrouping and sinking it’s teeth into whoever was left. The behaviour has been escalating where fierce verbal arguments seemed to becoming a daily occurrence. 

These fights were like a finely balanced glass ball on top of a very busy life of juggling work, single parent living half the month, study for my course and making sure the rest of my humans weren’t being to affect by this monster. I’ve scream, I’ve cried in the shower where I hope no one could hear me, I’ve begged the heavens to just give my Mum back because I can’t do this and then I’ve also begged the heavens to take me away. 

At times I question whether my depression will just grab me from behind and pull me back off the ledge. The thought scares me because I have worked so hard to be the best version of myself when my world has been a struggle. The difference between it winning or losing at the moment is I’m being honest about how sad this is making me. 

The last two weeks the fights have been coming more frequently. We almost could go a week, then it was every 4 days and now it’s been everyday. She is walking around, like a human shell of what she once was. No smiling, barely talking and then when she would talk, it would barely be a minute before she erupted because she didn’t like what was being said. 

I’ve openly said I don’t know how to help anymore and then it happened. Everyone told her how she made them feel. Tears fell like rain on a dusty paddock, it was cleansing. It hurt to see everyone has been hurting because of the arguments but we all needed to know how everyone was feeling. She needed to know how it was affecting her sisters and to see the pain in her strong Dads face. 

So since this happening last week, we have reached out to professionals for help. The fighting and arguing that is present in our house is not normal for our home and we need to help her. She wanted to runaway and this scared the crap out of me when I found the bags. Inside of this angry human, we know lives a beautiful human who is just hidden at the moment. 

Being a parent is a very solo journey that we rarely share our hard times of. It becomes very isolating and we are all guilty of thinking that the grass is always greener somewhere else. This moment in my journey is requiring great strength, that at times I just have not had. I feel a huge pressure to be better than I’m being and the fear of failure is huge. I feel the huge shoes that need to be filled from my Mum. Shoes I’m struggling to fill, but know I have to keep growing so I can one day. I need to be more for the girls and myself. 

4 0

So this is only around a month late in doing, but how time flies when we are in the middle of a pandemic. Last month two major milestones collided like a meteor hitting the earth. I turned the naughty forty, argh how it pains me to speak this out loud. I do not feel forty, I’m told I don’t look forty but seriously people are just being nice and while this major milestone occurred so did the 1st anniversary of Mum’s passing.

I had struggled a lot in the weeks prior to my birthday. Struggled with my loss, struggled with having to share this moment which should be joy with profound sadness, struggled with not wanting to admit how much I was still hurting and struggled with the fact age although just a number is scaring the f*ck out of me. 

So the morning of my birthday, which I honestly thought would be hell as my grief would consume me, was in fact beautiful. I woke to Marty’s warmth behind me and a sense of calm and peace. It was like Mum was holding me too. My day was filled with such love and joy from my girls love, to the kids at work who brought me in not 1 but 3 cakes, which was overwhelmingly lovely, the staff for being beautiful and to the dinner with decorations and favourite pastries, that awaited me when I got home. 

It was like the day I had dreaded became a day of joy. Not because she is gone but because she wouldn’t want me to not be happy. Her dying on my birthday although was terrible, it is now and will be forever her greatest gift to me. To not see her suffer anymore, to not see my beautiful strong Mum in pain. That is how I will forever treat her anniversary and my birthday from now on. 

So before the country went into lock down we celebrated my birth with a party that was pure extra. Extra in every way! We ate great food, with all my people and the cocktails were pure (very strong) decadence. Laughter and joy echoed through the star lit night. I’m forever grateful for the humans we do life with, their love and friendship is life’s greatest gift. 

Being forty is not what I thought, it’s not the end. I feel like I am stronger than I ever have been. I’m more grounded in who I truly am. Big love, Bx

How we are...

Oh my oh my, where on earth do I start? Life has been so up and down the last few months. We have moments of pure joy and clarity and then we slide straight down the roller coaster at pace to serious lows. Hormones are at maximum level, which ensures emotions are on point. At the very centre feels to be me. Trying to navigate everyone’s emotions, love everyone completely and be kind enough to myself to be a better version than I feel I’m being of myself. 

Of late I could literally run from the house and never look back. I know it’s so wrong, but if I’m honest, I’m sure I’m not alone in feeling like this sometimes. Being a parent isn’t always perfect insta photos and rainbows. It’s sometimes just crazy hard. Hard because you love these humans so much it hurts when they are being just plain horrible to you. 

I think these feelings are made even harder when people tell me how lovely our girls are. How we are raising amazing humans and that we should be so proud. Don’t get me wrong, who doesn’t want to here your kids are being good, yet having someone tell me I should write a book about how to get your kids to be amazing, was a little shock. This request was hard not to laugh at as I knew that only moments before I was losing my ever loving crap about one them about their behaviours. 

It is a bit of a double edge sword, because it makes me stupidly happy the girls are good for other people. Present themselves correctly and show respect and have manners, yet on the other hand, I’d love to not have to be the angry Mum always yelling at them to stop being shit humans to me or each other. 

So here in lies where we are. We are sitting in a limbo of almost repeating the same conversations daily and it’s wearing me down. I really hate sounding like I’m moaning but I feel like I need someone to give me some different ideas on how to get off the roller coaster, to maintain an even footing on life and have just a few more rainbows than dark stormy clouds. 

the secret life of teenagers

Life of late has been a blur of just getting through every day. Trying to be there for everyone while not drowning in my own grief. In saying that, I still have not managed to keep everyone together. In all honesty, I feel like I’m failing big time. 

Over the weekend, I opened my eyes to my Mills and acknowledged the change in her behaviour. I discovered a lot of truths that made me upset but mostly it just hurt to know I hadn’t been paying enough attention. I have been walking around the past few months with my own grief held tight inside me. Trying to keep everyone going but without really seeing anyone or their needs. I failed them and myself. 

So I’m lost, lost in how I guide her to do the right thing by herself always. To be her true authentic self without having to pretend she is something she isn’t just to be friends with certain people. To teach her, her worth and to value true friends that would never ask her to change. This seems easy to say but hard to do. You see, she is a head strong young lady who we created. 

This wild, creative and beautiful creature is her own person, who is fiercely independent. She has always been the quiet achiever and lately has almost disappeared from family life. Hiding away in her room. Taking sanctuary from home life,which we had noticed and had tried to encourage a change. This want came to a head over the weekend. 

I opened my eyes, not really prepared to find what I seen but I put my big girl panties on and dealt with it. In her eyes I’m probably the Monster for the punishment she received but learning boundaries is key. Learning to respect yourself and living a life filled with love and trust from the people who love you most in this life. I know she will get through this rough patch of finding her feet in this world, it’s just she can’t see the bigger picture yet. 

In all of this, the one person I wanted to ask for guidance, was the one person I couldn’t. Although Marty and I work as an infathomable team, my Mum was the one that would always confirm what Marty said. ‘I am doing a great job’ or ‘you’re an amazing mother’. Her reassurance, although just words, was enough. 

I love being my girls mother. They teach me probably more than I teach them. They are all unique, all beautiful and all bound to be amazing adults. This week has just been a bump in one of their roads. A bump that hopefully will spring her forward into clearer waters. 

Kiss My Fat Ass

So I don't know about anyone else my age, but I know that growing up I was very critical of how my body looked. Other girls were critical of my body and vice versa. Body shaming was normal, fat was not accepted, eating disorders reined supreme and being comfortable in swimwear seemed abnormal.

It seemed no matter what size we were, what looked back at you in the mirror was always less than perfect. So much of my teen years I hated and now at almost 39 the scars of those years are still so strong. I find it even harder as I have 4 beautiful daughters that I run a fine line of making sure they never doubt themselves all the while I struggle with my own self esteem. So of late I have really felt I need to change these feelings and doubts I have in myself, to finally be the best version of myself.

This want for change has been growing and seemed to hit fever pitch after I purchased a bikini while we were on holidays. I wore it while we were away and felt confident, which secretly was because the only people that knew me were Marty and the girls. We arrive home to our small country town and I wear it once to the local pool and bam! Insecure Sally arrives and I clam up. Self doubt and wanting to cover up was all the thoughts that were going through my head. Yet my want to be proud of the fact I've lost 5kgs, my thighs no longer over lap and my arse does have less dimples than it did last summer due to a simple plan of moving more and eating cleaner.

Like a light bulb switches on as people I am following on Instagram, they all start thinking the same way. Self love is what we need to do. Stop comparing ourselves to unrealistic and photoshopped perfection. Stop judging ourselves so harshly and stop trying to compete with every woman on the planet. To embrace my daughters attitude that 'Everybody has a swimsuit body!' Its funny how you as the adult are meant to be the teacher to your children, but in this moment of my thought process, they are teaching me. To love myself, be proud of the skin I live in and to remember that this body has done some amazing things by growing four humans.

So I today I took a photo of my backside in the afore mentioned bikini and am determine to be ok with how it looks. Own my curves and love myself sick! #kissmyfatass

the end is near

It’s funny how as the year starts to rush towards its end, I find myself reflecting on all that the last 12 months has held for my little family. It has seriously been a bumping ride, but one that has changed us deeply. At times it felt like we were toys in a kids box that a crazy toddler had upended all over the floor. Scattered thoughts, lives and emotions were sometimes overwhelming. 2018 has been one I have said at times, I wish it would end, yet I will always be thankful for the time it has given us. 

The year actually started better than the previous one had ended. We had had the worst Christmas Day we have ever had. Family fights had nothing on what occurred that day. Horrible behaviour and one sided truths were exposed. My kids witnessed human behaviour at its worst and I made a promise after seeing the hurt in their eyes that I will never let that happened to them again. I lost my brother that day, he isn’t dead but let’s just say I don’t have a sibling anymore. The new year started with a party with friends, joyful and it held promise of better times. 

January passed without any real issues, then Mum got sick. It started with a tooth ache, then she got an infection, then pneumonia was diagnosed, then they found a mass! Our lives felt like we were on a merry go round for the next few months. Scan after scan, appointments with lung specialist, oncologists, nurses and gp. I was juggling strongly, full time work, 4 kids with lots of commitments, still building our house and a husband. It was wearing me down and something had to give. 

By May I had to say goodbye to working. I just was struggling to be everything to everyone. It wasn’t an easy choice to make as i had worked hard to be where I was at work. But Time with my family and being able to help without letting people down was all I kept thinking of.  I needed to do the right things for the present situation. This in turn meant changes again to our family dynamic. Marty had to change jobs to facilitate this as well and the only way to do this was for him to go back to the mines. 

The girls have all grown so much this year. My heart some says yearns for their toddler selves to reappear. The women they are becoming are extrodinary. Maya is this beautiful, smart woman, Amelia is creative without trying and has a voice that makes me pause every time, Georgia is super smart without realising it and still is determine to have thousands of cats and Emerson has morphed into this mature, gentle and caring human that is at complete odds with the toddler she once was. I’m struggling with the years going so quickly because I’m just not ready for them to be grown, I really do think they are all my very best friends. 

The months since have been filled with adjustment to our new normal. Treating cancer as a new member of the family, dealing with being a single parent every other week and then having to readjust each other week to having a live in husband again. Learning to find time for myself and knowing that some days it’s just ok to not be ok. 

Normally I would be planning the new year and thinking of all the things I would love to do and achieve but I’m not doing that this year. This year I don’t know what the new year will hold but I do know I will tackle it with love. Love for my amazing girls, my selfless husband and for my parents that brought me into the world that now need me to be their rock. 

just a touch of cancer

My want to write, download, share and vent has been at its maximum lately. Yet it feels weird, like a friend I have fallen out of touch with. I love writing and have even started the book I have talked about doing, but my blog has been a little neglected. I think I just start to doubt why I share and why anyone would want to read about it? The thing is about blogging it’s more for the writer than the reader. It’s an outlet to share and in doing so gives others a chance to understand another’s inner workings. 

The last seven months have pasted by with almost a dark cloud hanging over our family. The big C entered our family with my strong mum being diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. Our family structure has changed greatly. I stopped working, Marty changed jobs to allow this, dinners are cooked for 8 and endless trips to the doctors and hospitals. In all this my mum has never not  been positive. 

I have struggled with the positive thinking, I’ll admit.   Tears a plenty have been shed, screaming inside my car when no one was around and sleepless nights caused from a mind that couldn’t stop thinking. Then something small like the sight of a full moon in a sky full of stars or the arms of your child wrapping around you bring you back to what’s great and real in this life. 

With this positivity Ive gained perspective on everything. Life is not a given right, time is not endless and getting caught up in things your can’t change only gives you stress. Mum has just a touch of cancer and we will help her fight as long as she can to beat this horrible monster.