What’s in a name?

A thousand years ago, or so it seems, when I started this blog I had no idea what to call it. At the time, I was living on a farm in the picturesque Noosa Hinterland, at the end of a very long drive way, on top of a hill. God I miss that place. It’s the longest I have ever lived anywhere.

I started blogging originally as a way to record what was going on in my life. The interesting conundrum of having a foot in two different parenting camps - a baby, and tweens, that became a toddler and teens. The break down of my marriage to my youngest child’s father. The recognition that there was more going on in my fractured brain then PTSD.

As time passed, and I moved, my blog name became synomous with my life. Like a hill, there has been ascents, descents and good old plateaus. On reflection, probably not a lot of plateaus, and an awful lot of ups and downs. And my blog morphed into a place where I talked about child sexual abuse, attempted to venture into the “commercial” blogging arena - unsuccessfully, shared words that formed poems that captured my moods and feelings, talked about breast cancer.... and then I stopped. I didn’t stop writing. I just stopped pressing publish.

I felt too raw, too full of emotional turmoil, too loud, too honest. Too much.

I shared my blog with someone new recently. It prompted me to read through my words and I was surprised at how well they read, how elequont they were. In a beautiful moment of synchronicity, the next day I was invited to a group that had been formed on Facebook, “The ‘Old School Blogger’s’ Reunion page, full of people that I had met and conversed with online and in real life. Some are still blogging, some of let it go. As I read through the conversation and recognised names, names of people that had been a very real part of my life, I realised that I need to start writing again, and pressing publish.

So here I am. Renewed, reinvigorated and real.

And if I’m too much, then too bad.

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The conversations I didn't think I'd ever be having

I had to go to the ladies when I was out to dinner with my daughter and her partner, so I could let my tears fall without having to give an explanation.

I didn't want to tell my beautiful girl that I was crying because I'm terrified that I won't get to see all the magnificent things that she is going to do. That I
was crying because hearing others making plans a year into the future,  both terrifies me, and makes me sad. I don't make plans that far into the future any more.

During dinner someone said to me, "You can come too." as they discussed plans for a cruise. I quipped back,"I don't even know what I'm doing next week.

Every feeling I have is often quickly followed by another. Staying in one feeling is difficult. My feelings are like a butterfly flitting from flower to leaf, leaf to flower.

The one consistent thing about cancer is that the treatment is fucking relentless. Surgery. Radiation. Chemotherapy. Medication. They all come with their own set of side effects and consequences. My life now is a constant process of managing them.

I dodged the chemo bullet. Not the others though. The one plaguing my life right now is hormone blockers. Fatigue like I've been rolled over by a steamroller, repeatedly. Aching joints, bones, body, and that's just getting out of bed. Mood swings, where the tiniest things will irritate me, or tears will roll down my cheeks, just because. Eye things, that make me clean my already clean glasses constantly, because I'm sure that it will remove the annoying visual disturbance. A decrease in my bone density, making my bones brittle. A vagina drier then the fucking Sahara desert. (Did you know that your vagina can hurt from dryness WITHOUT EVEN HAVING SEX??!!?! Who'd have thunk it?!)

I had a conversation with my beautiful girl about hormone blockers. About stopping taking them. It wasn't received very well. I'm not stopping taking them. Just thinking about it at this stage. I'll wait until I have a bone density scan in December and depending on the results, discuss it with my oncologist.

My daughter said to me today, "I don't think you'd survive it a third time Mum."

These types of  conversations are ones that I never thought I'd be having with my children. I thought I'd see all the things, Do all the things. I thought i had time. Instead now I feel like a ticking time bomb, managing side effects and the potential for cancer to return. Everything I do, from yoga, to the gym, to the supplements and medication I take, to the food I eat, is all done with that in mind. Stop cancer coming back. Again. For round three.

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This boy...

Words

Fail

Me

Right

Now

He is happy. And that is all that matters.

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The end of her childhood

 

 

The last few months have been monumental for my eldest child.

 

She has graduated from high school, the last two under stressful circumstances. Received two awards, been accepted into ACU in the young achievers program, before op results were released!, got beautifully frocked up for her formal, and turned 18.

 

I can't believe I have an 18 year old daughter. I have an ADULT child. How did that happen?

 

She is amazing. Her tenacity will get her far in life. She never never gives up.

 

I wonder where she got that from? ;)

 

I love you Lauralei. To the moon and back.



 

Graduating Year 12

 

 

Year 12 Formal

SeaWorld

18th Birthday

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Boy to Man

He is always going to be my first born son. I just have to get my head wrapped around that he is now a young man....

Playing along with Trish at My Little Drummer Boys

 

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Hat Juggling

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This is what the week before I started working, and the week of, looked like.

Week before:

Nathan gets cranky because he will not be able to play soccer, as I work on Saturdays and will need him to look after Aston on that day. The fact that he is getting paid to do this doesn't seem to matter. A whole lot of "it's not fair" "this sucks" "I hate my life" are heard. Loudly.

The washing machine breaks down, my to my delight. On informing Laura, her response is, "Well it had better be fixed by Wednesday! I need my uniform for work on Thursday!!" (Obviously I have conspired to make life as difficult as possible for her, because, you know, she will be the only one affected by not having a working washing machine!)

The night before I start work, Aston bursts into tears at the dinner table and declares "I don't want you to go to work!"

Needless to say, I am starting my new job with a healthy  unhealthy dose of mother guilt. This is going to be interesting.

Day 1:
AM - Nathan has a tantrum because I won't let him take his iPod to school. "Its MY iPod! Why can't I take it to school?!?" Hmmm... Let's see. BECAUSE THE LAST ONE WAS STOLEN!

Laura, who is at a school leadership camp calls me, up in arms at the travesty of having to hand her mobile phone in. The fact that it clearly said on the note that mobile phones weren't to be used, as the purpose of the camp was for the school leaders to build rapport with each other seems to invade her. While I did want to be able to contact her, as no contact number had been supplied, I could understand the reasoning behind this. Having this discussion with her, after already dealing with the gangster teen, while trying to get ready for work, was not on my to do list for the day!!

PM - I get home from work, somewhat exhausted. My brain about to explode from information overload, and my body about to collapse from being vertical all day. Nathan arrives home from Karate training, indignant that he "had to ride MYSELF to karate!!" Laura calls from camp, on her teacher's mobile, completely self absorbed. "I'm so tired." She has completely forgotten that I have started work until I remind her. At dinner Aston asks me, "When are you not going to be working anymore?"

Day 2:
AM - Aston wakes at 5am, in the throes of an asthma attack. In between gasps of breath, he hysterically announces "I don't want to die!!" Such comforting words for me to hear.... I manage to calm him down enough to be able to take Ventolin. I sit with him, laying against me upright, watching cartoons, and him telling me "I don't want you to go to work". I wait to see which way this is going to go, Ventolin work, and him settle, or off to the hospital.  In my head, I'm thinking, Great start to my new job, second day I have to ring up and say I can't come in...

Thankfully, the Ventolin does its thing, and he settles. But, my anxiety is still high, and I don't feel comfortable with him going to school. The inner dialogue is rampant. My mother is still on holidays with us, and tells me, "its OK Vicky. I'm here. Go to work." Reluctantly, I get ready, and go.

PM - Laura returns from camp to the school at 5.30. I have arranged for her boyfriend's mother to pick her up, as I don't finish work until 5.30, and her school is a 20 minute drive away. When I pick her up, I'm on automatic. The lights are on, but no-ones home. She gets in the car, and promptly has a melt down of .8 on the Richter scale of melt downs. Physical and mental exhaustion after spending three days participating in an ANZAC style Leadership Boot camp will do that to you. I suck up my own exhaustion, arrive back in my body, and become present for my daughter. We take a walk around the lake, giving her the opportunity to de-brief.

Thankfully, when I get home, Nathan has cooked dinner, and does an excellent job! I fall into bed, non compos mentis.

Day 3:
AM - Aston is still not 100%. Laura is exhausted from the camp, and M decides he is going to have a sick day, and Mum decides that as Laura and M are going to be home, she is going out for the day. All these things through my new morning routine out the window. I some how manage to get to work in time, anxious, but able to leave it behind. I finish at 2pm today, come home, and fall into bed for an hour, and sleep like the dead.

PM - As I'm putting Aston to bed at 7.30pm, all I want to do is put myself to bed as well. Laura is working tonight and doesn't finish until 10pm. I inwardly curse, and declare that she had better get her bloody Ps soon! Aston discovers he has a very wiggly tooth. His first! He is very excited, then gets worried about swallowing it, because then how will the tooth fairy find it? I assure him that it will be OK, it will travel out his body, and come out when he goes to the toilet. He responds "but then her wings will get wet!" God I love that kid.

Day 4:
AM - I'm not starting work until 1pm today, but its Laura's Leadership induction at school this morning. It's also Aston's first time at after school care. I calculate that I won't have time to drop Aston off at school, take Laura to school, stay for induction, come home, get changed and go to work. Make a plan to get ready for work, get Laura to take Aston into school, while I wait in the drop off zone, then drive to Laura's school for the induction. Aston protests loudly this morning, with lots of "I'm not going!!" and "Why do you have to work?"

PM - I ring after school care to make sure he has arrived safely and settled in. When I pick him up, he has lot to tell me, and has a good time. I breathe a sigh of relief, drive home, pack his bag, and hop back into the car to make the 40 minute journey to drop off as he is going to his father's for the weekend.

Day 5:
AM- I volunteered to work Saturdays as M usually works on Saturdays for at least half the day. Today, he isn't working, and he has forgotten that I am. Seeing as how we don't get much time alone together these days, he is disappointed that I'm going to work, and even more disappointed when he finds out I'm not finishing until 5.30!

PM - By the time I get home I'm shattered. M is making dinner, but I need to sleep. I lay down for an hour and half, and fall deeply asleep.

Waking up on Sunday and not having to go anywhere or do anything was blissful. I have survived the week. Just.

My respect for working mothers everywhere is raised higher then ever, and I text several friends asking them how the hell they have been doing this all these years?!

Even though I am tired beyond belief, I am loving being back at work. I get to talk to people all day, who are looking for things to make art and craft or solutions, and ideas for creating. My unique skill set, and the recognition that I have a unique skill set, has been invaluable. It seems I know far more then I realised. My experiences working in admin, being a full time mother, studying education, being creative have given me a wealth of information that I hadn't previously given the recognition and value that it deserved.

Its not all beer and skittles. The adjustment for the kids that I'm not going to be there at the their beck and call has been interesting, and challenging. Time management is paramount. As is sharing the load, and asking for help. Four weeks in we are all starting to adjust, and make changes.

Are you a working mum? Any suggestions/ideas/advice on the juggle would be greatly appreciated.

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Circuses and Africa

In the last week of the school holidays we were accosted approached by someone who was signing up people for Karate in the local area. As we had already discussed it with Nathan about him wanting to do it again, I decided to take up the opportunity and trial period offer.

This is how my afternoon/evening went last night...

Picked up Aston from his new school, were he was full of excitement about having a "buddy" in year 6. He then declared to me that he was big enough to walk to school by himself because he was "brave". Nathan, who goes to the high school in the other direction had started the walk home, and I was meeting him to pick him up.

Nathan gets in the car, annoyed that I didn't have his new bike to take to the bike shop to get serviced. Unfortunately, I can not lift anything at the moment without it hurting both my back and my elbow. While he understands this, he is 14, and well, everything is about him. We got home, and he tried to fit his huge bike into my tiny hatchback, unsuccessfully. Cue cranky face.

My two boys are always in a constant start of starvation - because - you know, I never feed them or anything! They both proceeded to vacuum up a bowl of ice cream, all the while Aston is demanding that he go and visit his friend from school who lives only several houses away. Nat let his cranky face go, and he and Aston scooted over to said friend.

M and Laura arrive home at 4.30, as I'm about to put corned beef in the pot to cook. Then I suddenly remember Nathan has Karate tonight at 5.15, and we were told to get there 20 minutes early for the first lesson. Ring Nathan, tell him to come home. Cue Aston cranky face. "Why did we have to come home? I didn't get to play with my friend!"

Absolutely winning here aren't I?

Grab the karate folder, and the information that we were told is different to the sheet in the folder, so I ring the sensei to confirm that karate is on tonight. Drive down to the address. There is no-one there. Empty community centre. Not a sensei, or sign in sight. Call Sensei again.... "um, so where are you, because I'm standing outside the community centre and there is no one here..." "oh, you have the wrong information, we are at this community centre now." Great. Because, you know, I know this area like the back of my hand- NOT!! Sensei gives me the address, and I attempt to put it into my GPS on my phone, which decides at that precise moment not to work. (Anxiety is ramping up, and I'm thinking What the fuck did I sign up for???) Turn phone off and on, because that is the standby fix it solution for any kind of electrical equipment right? Phone decides to behave itself, and point me in the right direction, in its dulcet tones, with me telling it to fuck off every 5 seconds.

Mean while, the 20 minutes that we were supposed to get there before hand has now decreased to 5 minutes before the lesson starts. We eventually find the place, and can see the lesson has started, and attempt to get into the community centre - unsuccessfully. Nathan looks at me and says, "lets just start next week mum." I'd be lying if I wasn't tempted to get back into my car and go with it. We found an entry that wasn't locked into the community centre, and the sensei approached and directed Nat into the lesson, looking at how frazzled I was, assured me that they had only just started.

I sat down, and breathed. OK. Made it. Oh shit, didn't ask Laura to get the vegetables for dinner ready. Flick off a text to her. OK. Now I can breathe....

Lesson finishes an hour later, and Nat is keen to continue. So it hasn't been a wasted trip, or $65. We drive home, without getting lost. I pull up into the driveway, and Laura is at the car door before I have even opened it, literally jumping up and down, "Mum, can you sponsor me to go to Africa in 2014?"

"Um... hello Laura."

Walk inside, and Nathan and Aston proceed to karate chop each other up, Laura is jumping up and down excitedly showing me this website she has found, and she just has to go, and it will be fantastic, and please, please, please can you sponsor me..... M is mashing potatoes, laughing. And I'm trying to breathe again.

My house is a circus between the hours of 3pm and 8pm. I swear I run on pure adrenaline. Half the time I'm not even thinking, I'm just doing.

Now that it's a new day, and all the kids are at school I have sat down and had a look at "Laura's Please I must go to Africa Trip". And are blown away. Laura wants to do something in the field of medicine. What exactly, changes on a fairly regular basis, but the field of medicine is always constant. She is planning to have a gap year before going to uni, and this is what she found, and so desperately wants to do. Gap Medics offers students who wish to pursue a career in medicine the opportunity to gain "a genuine insight into the work of doctors and nurses in Africa, India, Thailand and the Caribbean".

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Right now her chosen medical career path is in midwifery. I'm pretty sure it was reading the following that light her fire:

Placements are ideal for students aged 16 and over and are popular with undergraduate nursing or midwifery students as well as those in Year 12/13 or taking a gap year. Good supervision is crucial, and you’ll be assigned a specific midwife or nurse as your personal mentor for the duration of the placement.

Unfortunately we can’t predict exactly when and where babies are going to be born(!) but the maternity departments we work with are generally busy and you are likely to observe several deliveries in a typical week. You’ll also have a good chance of seeing Caesarean sections, as home births are common in the developing world so those that come to hospital are often do so because of complications.

When you are not attending deliveries, your time will usually be divided between shadowing staff and helping on the antenatal and postnatal wards, and or neonatal intensive care.
Most students join us for two weeks, but our placements are available from one week to a month or more. As long as we have space on the programme, you can start and finish whenever you want, 52 weeks of the year. If you’re interested in midwifery, but not yet 100% sure that’s the career for you, we’re happy to arrange a combined midwifery and nursing placement that allows you to experience other hospital departments as well.

Undertaking hospital work experience abroad not only allows you to experience the effect of local conditions (such as malaria) on maternity care, it helps you to appreciate the diversity in healthcare provision around the world and see first hand the ethical dilemmas midwives in these countries face every day. It also – of course – turns a couple of weeks’ work experience into the adventure of a lifetime!

So between now and Jan 2014 we are on a mission to find sponsorship for her to partake in the adventure of a lifetime. For me, Laura's excitement and enthusiasm is the most beautiful illustration of why I am a mum. And why between the hours of 3 and 8 pm my house is a circus!

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little things....

1. I named my daughter Laura after Laura Ingalls in Little house in the prairie. Her name also means Laural Tree. There is a myth surrounding the laurel tree. Daphne, a nymph was turned into the laurel tree to protect her from Apollo's sexual advances.

2. If Nathan had have been a girl, I would have named her Natasha. He was born 4 weeks early by emergency Cesarean, and I didn't hold him for ten hours after he was born. His name mean God's gift.

3. Aston is called Aston after Aston villa, the English football team. No I'm not a mad football supporter, yes, his father is. However, I agreed, because I think its a strong boy's name. NOT because his father loves the team! His name means home.

4. Laura and Aston are the most alike in temperament. Loud, demanding, at times challenging. Nathan is my SNAG - Sensitive New Age Guy.

5. All three of my children have taught me different lessons - Laura, what unconditional love really means, Nathan, that its OK to play and pretend, and Aston, how to feel joy after extreme heart ache.


6. My children keep me anchored to the earth. Without them I would have given up a long time ago.

7. I have put my heart and soul into being a mother - sometimes to my detriment.


8. sometimes I like to take my mother hat off, and party like its 1999

9. my children bring me joy, exhaust me, teach me, delight me, terrify me, make me laugh, cry, and everything in between.


10. I wouldn't change a thing.

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any fool can make a baby...

Why try and say it, when someone else has already done it so aptly

 

 

On Saturday night my teenage children's father got married.

 

Laura and Nathan found out via the facebook status update of their now stepmother. (I'm beginning to agree with M's renaming - fuckbook)

 

My son was confused, and asked to call his father. Nat spoke to him for all of two minutes, to be informed that yes he had gotten married, and that no, his wife's children where not there. Once he got off the phone he became very emotional and upset, and wanted to be left alone, and proceeded to shoot anything and everything on C.O.D.

 

My daughter raged with fury- for her, for her little brother, for all the times that her father has hurt her and her brother.

 

The lioness within me roared. How could he be so insensitive to his children? How dare he be so selfish! How dare he.... behave as he always has.

 

Laura's initial reaction of fury fell away two days later, finally revealing her real feelings. "HE DOESN'T EVEN CARE ABOUT US!!!" she screamed sobbing at me this morning.

 

What can I say to that? How do I act with grace when all I want to do is scream at this man how can he be so hurtful AGAIN to our children? He doesn't see the hurt, the tears, the confusion, the questions... he doesn't have to deal with any of that. I do. Again.

 

 

Will he ever think of them and their feelings? Am I expecting too much?

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Sharing the load

I have just spent the last half hour typing up and printing off, and will laminate job charts for my three children. After living in our new home for two weeks, I have been feeling very s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d!

My anxiety has been rife, and living on a adrenline overload exhausts you beyond description. This afternoon, I may, or may not, had a small tantrum about feeling like I was the only one doing anything in this house.

My daughter has just returned to living with me after being away for a year at her father's. Different house, different rules - you know the drill. And we are all adjusting to becoming a family again, with an added person M. Needless to say, there has been lots of change going on, and adjustment for every one.

So in the interests of self care, and self preservation I have prepared the lists for all three of the kids. These jobs were all things that we discussed together before the move even happened, so it was a family decision.

Who does the all the work in your house? Is it shared willingly, or do you spend you time nagging the kids to do this, do that etc? Got any great ideas to share? Please do!!

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My sons

Playing along with Trish at My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday

Posted with BlogsyMy little drummers boys

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It's all about the kids (part 2)

I wish that when I had separated from Laura and Nathan's father there had been something like the Foundations Parenting orders program. It may have made all the difference to how the last ten years played out, and continue to play out.

 

The parenting orders program is ordered by a family court judge when parents are unable to come to an agreement in regards to their children. However, I initiated the process before Aston's father and I had gotten to the stage where we were fighting in court about Aston. Having already been there and done that with Laura and Nathan's father, it was a process I did not wish to repeat.

It involves attending 6 workshop type meetings with a group of 4-6 other people, both male and female. In the group(s) I attended I was the only person there that had NOT been ordered to attend. During the initial introduction, I sat listening to the vitriol pouring out of the other participants, all the time thinking to myself 'I do not want to be like this!'

When it came time for me to introduce myself, I apologised, and said that I was here voluntarily and I didn't want to end up wasting my energy being angry like the other people I had just listened to.

Each workshop focuses on different aspects of being able to keep your child(ren)'s best interest at the fore front when dealing with your ex partner, as well as reinforcing that you as an individual are responsible for your actions and behaviour. If your ex partner chooses to behave Inappropriately and doesn't put your child(ren)s best interests first, it doesn't automatically give you a free pass to behave the same.

Aston's father also participated in these work shops at a different time and venue. I know that it was our mutual participation in this program that has made a monumental difference to how he and I conduct ourselves in regards to Aston and allows us to successfully co-parent him.

I have always tried to remain neutral in regards to Laura and Nathan's father, choosing not to react in front of them when something happened that infuriated or annoyed me about their father. Unfortunately, and somewhat ironically, when Aston's father was in their lives he didn't behave that way, and we often argued about him saying things about their father.

Recently, a little boy, the same age as Aston, died 13 weeks after being diagnosed with an aggressive malignant brain tumour. It was sad and tragic, and broke my heart when I heard about it. Unfortunately this little boy's parents were no longer together, and both had set up public facebook pages to honour their son. What disturbed and distressed me though is how they both very publicly wrote about their obvious anger towards each other. Neither of them were able to put aside their own bitterness for the sake of their little boy, and his brothers, even in though one of their children was dying. It left me uneasy, incredibly sad and questioning, but for the grace of god, what would happen if I ever found myself in a similar position with either Laura and Nathan.

I truly believe that the greatest gift I could give any of my children in this situation would be the appearance of a united front between myself and their father. Isn't that what unconditional love is? It's not, sorry you're dying, but I refuse to be in the same room with the other person that made you. Why can't we, as adults, put aside our anger and bitterness at the demise of our relationship with each other, and put our children's needs first?

These are questions I constantly ask myself. When ever I feel anger raising at the situation between Laura and Nathan's father and myself, I ask myself, am I behaving in their best interests? If the answer is no, I modify my behaviour, call a friend and scream down the phone my frustration, rather then engage in a tirade with him. I am not responsible for how he behaves, but I am responsible for my behaviour and reactions, what my children see and hear from me. If he chooses to behave badly, it is also he that will have to deal with how his behaviour affects his relationship with his children. Me... I just have to learn to tame the lioness that roars within when I see how his behaviour affects them.

I am aware that every situation is different, and all that I have said is a moot point in situations where abuse is a factor. Even so, that doesn't give the other parent free reign in degenerating the abusive parent. In the period of time that Aston didn't see his father whenever he asked why, or when was he going to see his daddy, I always responded that daddy wasn't very well at the moment, and that when he was better he would be able to see him. That was the age appropriate response at the time. I still acted in Aston's best interests. It wasn't safe for him to see his father, but it also wasn't appropriate for me to say to him that his father was currently behaving abusively and was mentally unstable.

At the end of the day, a child's relationship with their individual parents is THEIR relationship to navigate. As Children get older, they develop their own ideas about who their parents are. If a child has been fed nothing but vitriol about either parent from the other is that fair, or in the childs best interests? The relationship that an ex partner has with their child may well be very different from the relationship they had with you. Be a grown up, do the right thing, love your child unconditionally - even if it means you have to stand by and watch them have a relationship with someone that caused you pain.

Posted with Blogsy

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Wordless Wednesday - sleeping

Playing Wordless Wednesday with 

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river of tears

anger pulses through me ...
white hot heat...
it masks the deep sadness that hurts my heart...
anger fuels me to action,
to do what needs to be done,
keep the sadness at bay...

image source

if you peel back the anger,
let the sadness out,
I'll drown in a river of my own tears,
like Alice in wonderland,
just looking to get home.

I swim to the shore,
feel the sun on my face,
dry out, renewed...
My grace restored,
I will not let it be destroyed.
..the sadness remains
like a lonely child inside my soul,
to cry another river for another day.

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Second guessing and the sweet spot

I went to a party on Saturday night (which happened to be brilliant - haven't done an all nighter in a very long time) where the only person I knew was M. It was an engagement party for one of his friends, and a gathering of people that hadn't seen each other in a while. Lots of conversation and catching up and laughs.

I got asked three questions A LOT. "How long have you and M been seeing each other?" (which was quickly followed by, "and we are only meeting you NOW?") "Are you and M going to have any kids?" and this one - "What do you do?"

My response of "I am full time mum" was for the most part followed with another question - "What did you do before?" I worked in a bank for fuck's sake. It was incredibly important. I was a manager in the financial services division, responsible for 20 other staff, and ensuring that people's superannuation and investments didn't get fucked up. (No I didn't actually say this, but I must admit when I got asked this question for the second time it was the dialogue going on in my head.)

Not everyone dismissed the last 16 years of my life by wanting to know what I did before I started the job of growing small human beings into big ones. I had some lovely conversations with a couple of people about my job as a mother, and who were quite happy to look at pictures of my greatest achievements.

I'm fairly certain that the people who asked "What did you do before?" weren't intentionally overlooking what I am doing right now. It was a question made automatically because mothering doesn't make money.  Thankfully, I'm evolved enough after 16 years to not let that question take away how I feel about making the choice to mother full time. It did annoy me - but more as an interesting sociological kind of observation.

Is it any surprise then that so many of us mothers feel so undervalued at what we do? 95% of the time I second guess everything I do as a mother. Which leaves only 5% where I feel like I hit the sweet spot, just like a tennis player does when they hit that ball and it does exactly what they want it to do. It seems, that in general society really doesn't value mothering as a job. What a shame. Because personally I think that while its the hardest job in the world, its the one that deserves the most recognition and admiration.


Next time you meet someone new and ask THAT question, listen to what they are doing NOW, don't be so quick to want to know what they were doing BEFORE. Its what they are doing now that is important.

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