Encouraging Improvement

"Don't call it complaining" I said " Call it encouraging improvement" ..I trailed off.

Goodness did I JUST say that?

What type of a person justifies complaining...

I am THE biggest complainer. My balloon is blown up so tight that it often only takes a small prick for a massive release of gushing air. The balloon swinging wildly around the room until it settles in a miserable shrivelled mess on the floor.

And one gush, inevitably, leads to another.

My sisters favourite phrase for me in my late teens was " do you want some cheese with that whine?"

I would hope that I am considerably improved since then. Hope. But doubt it.

The many late nights I have sat crying and gushing over my poor Hunna who (mostly sighs and asks if we can do it at a more appropriate hour ) which inevitably sets me off on complaining about something else. Probably about him. Poor soul.

It's funny how people have admired how long it took to go to hospital when my appendix burst and swallowed some of my intestines with it. How painful it would've been.. but to me. Physical pain. Is not what I complain about the most.

Sure in the last week I've heaved an exasperated half sob ( half because I can't show any emotion without hurting my abdomen ) and wailed " why me Hunna .. And now I have a cold too.. Is there NO end? "

But mostly the complaining is of the emotional kind.

Pinch me, kick me and bruise me. OK that will hurt but betray me, poke fun at me or withdraw love and I will be a heap on the bedroom floor for weeks. I'll mull that sentence over and over in my head. Roll it around on my tongue trying to make sense of it.

Deconstructing every syllable until exhausted I fall asleep.

Apparently it's called "emotional sensitivity"

Yes, I am sensitive. I know this.

But does the sensitivity have to come with very cringe worthy complaining. I think not.

The other week in sacrament while listening to the Devonport Stake Patriarchs talk I was struck with something he said.

" time does not heal all wounds, love heals all wounds"

After Dad died I treated my grief like I would a cut or a bruise. Expecting it would leave over time. That it would heal itself and one day I would wake up and the gnawing of my tiny teenage heart would be gone.

I've treated most emotionally sensitive issues since with the same, patience is key, attitude.

Sometimes, time does heal emotional hurt, but not because I have dealt with it.. Simply because I have seemingly forgotten about it. Like it wasn't that important to begin with.

But some things. They don't leave with time, they are always with me. More painful than any burst appendix or any bowel resection.

These are the things I tend to complain about.

These are the things, I now find ( after a fantastic sacrament talk) I should fill with love. Smother with charity and dollop with forgiveness.

Love is all you need .... right?

Trials and blessings

Last February Hunna and I decided that we felt it was time to begin the journey of adding to our family.

As we saw a future where we lived independently arriving soon and one with him also completing his apprenticeship.

We also felt that it was about time to give Boy a little brother or sister.

We prayerfully considered our circumstances and began the necessary process of beginning again.

By mid April I was beginning to get excited about the prospect of adding to our brood.

By May I felt that it was truly our month. That was until I unexpectedly got my period two weeks in to my usual cycle. I felt an overwhelming sense of grief and loss. I don't know if I miscarried. I will never know. It is unusual for me to have irregular periods but either way I was devastated another month had gone.

By August comments from people assuming I was morning sick when I often had IBS symptoms felt more like blows to the stomach than jovial banter.

I was confused as it only took one cycle to conceive Boy. I wondered what fate Heavenly Father had for me.

I ached to hold life in my belly again. To feel the first butterflies of kicking. And connect with a new little being.

I blamed Hunna for not wanting a baby enough. Convinced Heavenly Father was punishing me for waiting too long between children, or being a less than fit mother to Boy or even not appreciating him enough.

But all through the year, month after month. I knew. I always knew it hasn't been time. That season is still ahead of us.

And so really I was avoiding the big neon sign in my face that said " be patient, the time will be right soon "

When I got sick. Not just a little bit sick but a lot sick. When I needed surgery. When I probably could call that my third near death experience.

I was upset that, on doctors recommendation, it would be at least another three months to allow my body time to heal.

But then, over this past week. I have realised. From the very beginning. My Heavenly Father has not been punishing me. He has blessed me. As he always does. As he always will.

How silly of me to forget the house experience so quickly.

If I had been pregnant or had a new baby. The trial of sickness would've been much greater. Much more of a burden. Much more than I could have handled.

There would've been so many more complications.

How blessed I am that everything happens in the Lords time. Because only he can see when things are best for me. When trials will become blessings.

And even when he sends me trials of pain and scars and recovery. He allows me little rays of hope. Home for Christmas Eve. Home for Christmas morning, I could see the smile on Boys face and the joy he experienced in the flesh.

I could tentatively sit and laugh and eat with my family through the day.

I could heal. I could recover. I could be blessed, even through pain.

 

Hospital Smoshpital

On Tuesday. After my abdominal scan. Things took a turn for the worst.

I went in. They scanned .. I waited for the results. I took myself off to the doctors. Everything was clear. Clear and healthy. So why was I having the worst pain in my abdominal area?

My blood test showed my infection markers where up. My white blood cell count was up.

The Doctor suggested I very swiftly take myself to accident and emergency.

I dropped Boy off at my sisters. I was in accident and emergency for 15 minutes. My heart rate was up. I was clammy. Pale and I had lost 5 kg in the two weeks since I felt sick.

They put me on a drip.

They took bloods and a CT scan.

There was a mass in my abdomen near my appendix. I am so skinny they can't tell specifically what is inflamed or infected.

They started me on antibiotics.

They send me to the ward.

The surgeon came. Surgery. She couldn't say what would happen during the surgery. The had to look to see what was up.

I might come out with a bag if things were worse than expected. I might have Chron's disease. I might have cancer.

On Wednesday I was booked in for Thursday afternoon. I needed time for the antibiotics to reduce the infection/inflammation.

I last ate on Tuesday at lunch time.

No food and only sips of water until surgery.

At 1.30 pm on Thursday I went in for surgery. When I woke up I was in incredible pain.

My appendix was gone, the right side of some of my large bowl and 20cm of my small bowel.

I had had a Bowel Resection.

I spent almost 5 hours in recovery.

I didn't have a bag. But I did have a drain and a catheter. That night my blood pressure was very low. I was monitored constantly.

I have a 10cm scar up the middle of my belly that even goes past my belly button.

Apparently my appendix burst about two weeks ago. It had made things stick together and formed a mass in my abdomen.

So I really was very sick.

I really have been very sick.

So now, I am in hospital. Recovering, waiting for things to start working again. The pain is almost gone. I was allowed to eat for the first time, last night, in 5 days.

Food is amazing.

And I am waiting for the biopsy of my abdo mass. Just to make sure.

In sickness and health #2

When I am sick.

I am frightfully frightfully sick.

For the last three years I have battled with crippling abdominal cramping, on and off. It often makes me vomit. It hurts. It is tiring.

12 months ago. Fed up with my health I went to seek medical advice. After some nasty tests and a scope down my throat I was diagnosed with IBS.

Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I was given a plan for management but ( as it seemed ) was basically told nothing could be done and I was figuratively sent home to die.

I became vegetarian in an attempt to focus more on what I was consuming. I read every possible article on IBS I could and did everything I thought I should.

But it has persisted.

Then I came to Tas.. a little over a week ago I started feeling the same ole abdominal cramping. Which inevitably left me vomiting and once again wondering what I was doing that was so horribly wrong.

The abdominal pain, instead of being relieved by a night over a bucket, which is usually the case. Has persisted. It has been with me for over a week. Last week after hardly eating for 5 days I took myself off to the doctor.

Who suspects I have been misdiagnosed.

On Tuesday, I will go for my first abdominal scan.

Here's hoping that its as simple as removing some nasty stones or a malfunctioning gall bladder. And it will all go away.

 

Because that would be the lesser of two evils.

 

 

 

Mistletoe & Me

 

All I want for Christmas is you.

Jiminy Cricket

Sometimes when I speak I imagine my tongue is made of silver.

Other times it lashes out like a toads tongue, frightfully fast and deadly accurate, with a loud thwack

Then I have a third tongue. The tongue of a serpent. The deadliest of the three.

My tongue can be the cause of great joy in my life and my relationship but also of great contention.

I both love and loathe it.

For instance: My silver tongue has served me well for communicating, talking and giving speeches with clear concise language.

My toad tongue once proclaimed, at the end of a glorious silver tongued talk to the congregation " So Brothers and Sisters, Are you on high ground?" Thwack

But my serpent tongue. My serpent tongue is a weapon. It sniffs the air with a threatening hiss as it slides back and forth between my lips.

It can do insurmountable damage. It can snatch joy from the air and choke it with flames.

I promise. I do try to hold my serpent tongue.

Sometimes I am more successful than others.

Since meeting Hunna I have made a conscious effort to soften and calm my sometimes raging, often unpredictable and always emotional tongue.

He is my Jiminy Cricket conscience, calmly directing me to choose the right.

There is  another thing that has been helping me.

Writing.

I can write and write and everything I have felt flows onto the page, released through my fingers and not through my lips I can refine my thoughts.

Writing about when Hunna and I met has reminded me of great memories which I want to cherish and can now peruse and connect with whenever I like.

So, I've decided to continue with our journey... Because I had stalled somewhat because I am a romanticist.

Because the next chapter is raw and sometimes not romantic at all.

But I need to tell it.

From like to loke. from loke to love. From love and beyond.

It all needs to be said.

So.

The wedding approaches.

Shape Up or Ship out

"Shup Up Millie" and I suddenly realised how, now - more than ever, I need to be vigilant with what and how I say things.

 

I will admit to the occasional cuss. Apparently, cussing has even been proven to help with pain management and reduction. I know this because I watched an episode of embarrassing bodies late, one night, last week; and they tested it and said so. So it is so.

 

It definitely helps me to vent my frustration at times and/or feel empowered through being defiant.

 

But this isn't about the occasional cuss ( although it is) its more about the every day level four cusses.

See- Hunna and I have a rating system for cussing:

 

Level #1

Cuss words you would NEVER ever say - not even in your head.

 

Level #2

Cuss words you say when in extremely painful or sticky situations ( my kind of anger cuss ) that can be justified but are still most definitely rude and are mostly said in private or in your head on occasion.

 

Level #3

Cuss words that put in context aren't swear words but used in a derogatory sense are rude. And so -- they are only to be used in an anatomical or contextual sense by doctors and vets and the like..

 

Level #4

These swear words are low level words which we'd rather not say but are often used because we love to think we have at least a small part of our language which can be confronting or disgusting or reasonably defiant without being too close to the naughty line.

We decided not to make a big deal outta level four swear words. Maybe a little correction if someone shouts " who farted?" And the next person corrects " who passed wind? ".

But no consequences anyway.

 

So, here's the story.

Since we got to Tas I have been enduring one of the pet hates of my life.

 

A small yappy dog. I don't mind that dogs bark. Like big dogs that look like they will bite a robber in half. Because that's a serious alarm/ robber prevention system you got going on.

 

Like our Cocoa, who - yes barks at random people. Props for her. But also Rabbits which she will happily break in half if she was fast enough to catch them -- see what I mean? Useful Barking. "Listen the dogs barking down that rabbit hole" .. . " well lets go get us some rabbit meat"

 

Anyhow, back to snappy yappy Hairy Maclary dogs.

Hate em. Can't stand em. Excited barking, hate it. Want to go outside barking, hate it. Barking because barking is what they do barking. The pits.

 

So it is with regret that I have been saying "Shut Up Millie" continuously to a dog that is living at Mums but isn't Mums. It is infact my sisters - and I think since she got married she should re-home it to a family of deaf people and move away just in case they miraculously get partial hearing back and start contemplating returning her..

 

I think the first bout was " Millie if you bark in the car I will throw you off the sidling" on the way into Launceston and of course, predictably she started barking and I snapped " Shut Up Millie" and since then it hasn't stopped.

 

Until tonight when she was outside and Boy was de-poding peas with Mum and She started to bark at something and Boy yelled out "Shup Up Millie".

 

And I jerked my head up from instagramming in surprise.

 

And it was so cute and sincere that we had a little giggle and I redirected and said " Yes, shoosh Millie" and Boy copied " Shoosh Millie" and I patted my self on the back for a good cover up.

 

Because even just a level four word coming from my pure, innocent 2 year old ripped my heart to shreds.

 

So I'm never cussing again.

 

Cuss out.

 

 

Dear Hunna

Today I miss you. Tomorrow I'll miss you more. It aches so much I think my heart might be too heavy for my chest to hold up anymore.

I am in denial. About how much I truly truly love you.

I pretend that it doesn't matter you work so much. That its nice just to see you when you sneak into bed next to me late at night after a big day at work.

And that since we don't see each other much these days anyway-- that being away for four whole weeks would be easy.

It's not.

I miss your cuddles.

How the weight of your body makes a dip in the mattress that I fall into when we sleep next to each other and consequently waking up all hot and sweaty even in the middle of winter because your body is always set on toastier than black toast.

I miss your constant and even deep breathing lulling me to sleep.

I even miss your alarm going off ten times at 4am cause you reset it to snooze every 8 minutes.

How you bump into things while getting dressed cause you keep the light off to let me sleep.

I don't miss hearing the truck start up and idle down the drive, but I do miss the excitement I feel when I hear it idling back into its spot at the end of the day.

So here's to us and our forever. I can't wait to hear the sound of your truck idling up Mums drive soon.

I'll see you in 2.5 weeks dearest.

A holiday by the sea.

We are relaxing. Getting rid of our Victorian Tans and turning into crispy golden fried Tasmanians.

I LOVE to laze about in the sun and sleep off the sleep debt I have accrued from all the nasty late night cleans leading up to coming down.

Boy has been IPading away on our play school app and really getting into making pictures.

He grows and learns and surprises me everyday.

He really is amazing and wonderful and every other similar descriptive word that I can't think of right now.

It is good to fill up the tank.

It is good to be far away from all the stresses that were the move and winter and everything before that.

I feel like we are finally feeling the rewards of our hard work and patience.

It has been a long time with a small flicker of light for hope at the end of a very long tunnel.

But I can finally see the light is coming closer and that our family will be better off for the long hard journey of apprenticeships and long hours and no pay.

And I imagine the tunnel will open onto a glorious field with sun and flowers and light.

And rabbits and stuff...

In the meantime. I'm enjoying the time off before returning to the grind.

 

Vego Delight

3 reasons why being a vegetarian/flexetarian is awesome.

( doesn't the Lemnos recipe look amazing!)

#1 Falalel is amazing. Truly truly amazing.

#2 I feel healthier. Less heavy and more energetic.

#3 I don't need to wash or change chopping boards when prepping meals. Less mess = happy Jess

Veg it up!

 

Christmas Bells are Ringing

Every year I do a Christmas list. Because If I'm on the nice list I might actually get one ( or all?) but mainly just to see how my tastes change from year to year.

Here's this years wish list. ( all found on Down That Little Lane or DTLL for short )

I think my theme this year is leather and wood.

Loving this Moroccan Pouffe in tan from Bohemian living.

Also, I have been aware of Holy Funk for some time because I am in love with their grungy industrial furniture.

This one is specifically for Boy. The wheel obsessed two year old in our lives. So why not make it wooden so it can last?

Hunna, if you are reading this. I lost my sunnies and I want to replace them with an awesome pair from branched. I need them because it is SUMMER down here in Tassie.. apparently... And because they are wooden. And wood is awesome.

Last but not least, I think this giant peg ( or three ) would look great holding coats in an entry way. In a house we don't have. But a girl can dream..

So, we have been loving it up in the Brid the past few days down in lil ole Tassie.

Bring on the festivities I say...

Christmas is just a stone throw away.

 

Clumsy Mumsy

Do you ever have those days where you can't do anything right?

Well.. I am having one of those weeks. I am getting absolutely positively frustrated with everything.

It started Friday night when I was making my flower for the ball...

 

 

No matter what I did I wasn't satisfied with the button in the middle. Until I finally settled on surrounding it with a smaller row of petals and gave up.

Funnily enough, the next day I loved it and couldn't see why I had such a problem with it...

Sunday morning I couldn't pick my outfit for church because none of them felt just right.

Monday I scrubbed and scrubbed those darn laundry tiles and the grout in between but I just seemed to make them worse. And they tormented me with their rotten dark grout....

 

 

But today I think they are perfectly scrubbed and clean.

I've been dropping things, breaking things, knocking things.. Stubbing my toe, hitting me elbow and just generally having a rotten time of it all.

I don't know where my head is this week.

I think it has gone on holidays.

 

Last night I read:

D & C 78:17-19
Verily, verily, I say unto you, ye are little children, and ye have not as yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you;
And ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. The kingdom is yours and the blessings there of are yours, and the riches of eternity are yours.
And he who receiveth all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious; and the things of this earth shall be added unto him, even an hundred fold, yea, more.

 

So today, after banging my head on the shower tap ( the last straw ) I am sitting here trying to rid my head of the clumsy fuzz and be thankful for the things I do have.

 

------------

I am thankful for Boy, who cuddled me and wiped my frustrated tears from my cheeks as I sat on the lounge room floor and sobbed over my throbbing head.

He said " Mumma sad?" and looked at me with big dishey eyes while wiping the tears from my cheeks. " Mumma cuddle" and he wrapped his little arms around my shoulders.

 

 

 

 

 

From loke to love #3

I thought we should at least get engaged .. since I have been on the way to the park for over a month.

So here it goes...

Read from loke to love #2 here

The language of loke

from loke to love part three

I am on my way to city park. I am in my dress - the dress I know I will get engaged in.

It is cream with orange and red floral print splashed across the dry silk.

I am apprehensive and excited and anxious and almost about to die from all the emotions that seem to have settled in that place in my stomach.

The one that makes me want to do a nervous poop.. or ten.

I wonder where in the park he will be.

I decide to park my car somewhere close to the middle and enter through the middle gate on the top side. So I can scan the park for him from my vantage point on the hill.

I straighten my dress, my cardigan, my hair.

I straighten my back, my posture and take a deep breath before striding confidently down the hill.

Only my eyes give away the anxiety I feel on the inside.

They dart like a manic squirrel back and forth around the park- over to the play area and the tall trees down to the duck pond and over to the middle.. the middle. The chess set, to Kyle.

Kyle is standing next to the chess set looking gloriously overdressed in a suit and tie on a suddenly warm afternoon in March.

I smile, I float towards him.. feeling foolishly giggly. My worries, as always, melt away when we make eye contact.

He glistens in the sunlight, and I can't help but think how shiny and new he looks. Like he's just come out of his Ken doll box. His face is warm and his touch inviting as he reaches out his hand to guide me to the bench seat.

He talks to me, for a second too long and my roller coaster ride of emotion starts to even. Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps I misinterpreted the note. Perhaps...

He interrupts my thoughts when he jumps off the seat next to me onto one knee.

My heart leaps from my chest and he pulls a ring, THE ring. My ring from his pocket.

"Jessica Mary Gibson will you be my wife?"

I can't remember what I said. But I suppose I said yes. I imagine it was a yes that caught in my throat and came out all squeeky and high as I often do when my emotions are doing loops in my stomach.

I remember an older couple had paused to see the action, standing awkwardly off towards the hot house and I wasn't even annoyed that they were being nosey because I was embracing him and kissing him and giggling and smiling and .. was someone clapping?

Did they clap? Or did I just imagine they clapped. 

I am delighted. I am engaged. I am in love.

Read part 4 here...

No internet

We have had no Internet..

 

This means I have been going crazy...

Today we got it back again. Tomorrow I will blog something mind blowing to make up for my lack of blogging in the last two weeks.

Here's some what we've been up to Instagram piccies....

I have many things to blog about.. Love, Family, Life and they have all been whirring around in my mind desperately wanting to be typed.

So watch this space for some really mind blowing stuff..

To sickness and health

This week I was sick again. Not horribly sick. Just vomited a few times and felt better sick. But my abs were burning this morning when I woke up and so I went for comfort over style at church today.

No tight skirts or tops, no belts and definitely no hosiery! How un lady like, BUT oh how comfortable.

 

Thanks for the photography Hunna. We will miss you at Phillips while you are in Sydney this week....

Un petite console

I have suddenly realised ( after cleaning the house from top to bottom amongst other homely, wifely, motherly tasks) that I can still successfully negotiate life as an independent matriarch,

You see, two and a bit years is a long time to be living with the in laws.. It's a long time to relax -- Kick back and enjoy sharing everyday tasks with another matriarch.

I had been undeniably concerned that I had forgotten how to "negotiate the pleats" and when we moved into the mess that was Phillips and I was confronted with 3 weeks worth of scrubbing I quite lost my mind.

But-- I have struggled through (after some pouting) and triumphantly come out the other side with a bellow of glory.

I CAN do it! I CAN do it all!! Did you doubt me?

My Mumma plate and my wifey plate and my church calling plate and my cleaning plate and my me plate and all the others that make up my multifacited life are quite happily spinning on the end of their sticks.

Just how they should be.

Oh how I thrive on being busy.

Also, I L.O.V.E gumtree...

I noticed this listing you see... For this free piano and I looked up the make on the Internet and even found the original catalogue for that A. Bord Piano and I thought Oo la la how French. And I emailed that person and today we picked up that free piano ( and by we I mean Hunna did because I was deathly ill and in bed ) but when it arrived on the back of the truck this afternoon I felt suddenly well enough to rip my weary bones from the bed of my sickness and rush to the front door and exclaim "put it here..or here, no here"

And now we have a console piano you see. A petite modele perfect for Phillips.

Oh how very delighted I am at spinning all those plates on my own.

The week that was..

After reading Veganist by Kathy Freston and watching "If slaughter houses had glass walls" (please don't click that link if you are easily offended) and finding a great website called Forks over Knives which promotes a movie (yet to watch) and just generally looking for a more centered life ---

we have become flexitarians.

Since we moved into our new home we have been cutting back on meat. 

TO the point where, now. We don't eat hardly any meat (unless you are Hunna and sneak some at lunch time) The goal is to go two weeks without meat. Then three etc. etc.

Of course I can't ever pass up a juicy steak from parkers -- hence the "flexitarian" name.

We don't put too much pressure on ourselves and don't have to beat ourselves up if we choose to have a bit of meat every now and then. 

I have found it completely and utterly easy to transition into no meat eating mode.

I've never really been a big meat eater anyway, but since making the conscious decision to eat less (or none) I have been making sure we get a wide variety of everything plant based to try and give us a well balanced diet.

Its actually really exciting and we have probably been eating more nutritionally beneficial foods than we were before.. I am feeling great!

On the menu : 

Chickpea and sweet potato burgers with coriander and chilli. (above)

Okonomayaki (below)

We still eat cheese and eggs although no milk considering I am allergic to raw milk anyway - but I do have a spare bottle for cooking.

With so many delicious alternatives I don't crave meat or milk anyway!

This week I had a parcel arrive from Anthropologie.

(White is for fresh and Blue is for hard boiled)

And these cute porcelain fruit baskets came from there too..

We have also been mooching around a bit finishing off the cleaning..

And trying (amongst flexitarianism) some other new endeavours..

                             
back soon. x

Pinterest

Since we moved to Phillips I am getting into pinterest even more than I was before..

I just bought a beautiful solid table, oh and those chairs I told you I was crushing. And now I will make them beautiful with the power of pinterest inspiration.

So get excited for some creativeness coming soon.

On the up side I have a sliding door and the surrounding wall, one window and the surrounding wall and the roof left of this darn cleaning expedition... THEN it will be complete (until I can save for a steamer to get the niggely hard to clean corners) and life can go on as normal.

Lucky for me there hasn't been any hot weather in the last 3 weeks tempting me to procrastinate cleaning for being outside.

Lucky for me I have had some great motivating messages and visits since my last post which have given me enough gumption ( literally, thanks Mel) to continue the dreaded job. ( which had stalled a bit cause I was over it)

I have gone through 6 pairs of gloves

14 scrubbies

3 rolls of paper towel

1 tub of gumption

5 scrub brushes

Loads of spray bottles of "cleaning grimey stuff"

And a roll of 150 dry wipes

And I managed to convince Kyle to chisel the muck off the bottom of the toilet bowl so now it is sparkley clean and his chisel is ... well, not.

I cannot wait for summer to be here.

Annoying - I need some cheese.

I can't get over the fact that I have to clean an entire house from top to bottom. I know I really need to move on from it. But it is making me really depressed thinking about all the "extra" tasks I have to do on top of day to day cleaning/cooking & child rearing because the Landlord didn't get the last tenant to clean up after themselves or bother to get a professional in.

think: scrubbing the whole house. From top to bottom.

I know I said I would be done by last week but we were under the weather and our plans got pushed back. On top of that Kyle has been working insurmountable hours and I am thinking I am a single parent at the moment which makes Bastian the primary concern since he is needing some extra emotional support and attention since we moved and doesn't have his Dadda around much.

I just feel really frustrated because I know if I was at home-- real home,  I would have had so many relief society sisters call in and check on me. Dropping off meals and pushing past me to clean the walls against my futile denials that I need any help.

I miss the fellow ship of the sisters in Tasmania. They are as strong as oxen.

Its easier when your burdens are lightened by many.

However, I will say this.

The few but faithful (namely the beautiful Julia and the stunning Mel) who have helped me and supported me during the process have given me hope for the future.

I hope that Melton is as tight as Tassie because I couldn't find the same feeling of love and warmth and unity in Geelong.

I hope that I will find older sisters to be close with and coddle me like mothers.

Because I miss that. I miss all my surrogate mothers in Tassie.

 And most of all I miss my real, no nonsense Mum too..

I wonder if for the rest of my life I will hear her in my head, like she is over my shoulder. Scolding me like she would when I was five with a brisk "Jessica" and telling me to get on with it.

Seriously sub-consious Mum.  I could use a break!

Grumpy - Pants

Morning potty interrogations

This morning I had my grumpy pants on after Boy threw a glass jar in a minnie "I'm frustrated your not getting it Mumma" tantrum. So I sent him to bed, to sleep off his own grumpy pants.

Now I am bored. And wish I hadn't had grumpy pants on because I want to play.

But he really did need a nap since he didn't get one yesterday because we were out for lunch.

But still... that doesn't change the fact I am bored.

We are cleaning. Cleaning and packing - doing it slowly so it doesn't overwhelm me.

I am easily overwhelmed since we moved to Phillips. It has something to do with the fact that we moved in to a house that was trashed and more to do with the fact I am exhausted from cleaning at all hours.

So we have slowed the pace. Because we are getting sniffly and thats generally a good enough excuse to say "slow down cowboy"

p.s: I took up instagram again. Follow me @jess_booqi

I am deciding to facebook less and instagram more. 

That way, its more about me cataloguing my own day - not stalking other peoples days.

Things I am crushing

Provincial you tempt me so with your expensive but cheaply made items. If only they were actually made from hard woods I would be SO tempted.

Anthropologie.. Why do I now know you ship to Australia for only $25? Don't you know I'm poor now I have moved out and can't afford you.. Well couldn't really before that either.

We don't have a table or chairs yet... But I can assure you. They will be solid and have chairs just like these, all metal and wood. I am in love.

So it's back to cleaning and sorting for me. I will give you a tour when things are neater and homelyier and just generally lovelier than stuff in boxes.

We have moved

There I said it. It is done. Did the suspense kill you?

We have finally done it. We have spread our wings and flown the in-laws coop.

We are living it up at Phillips. Our own little semi-detached unit heaven.

It was all very exciting until we entered the front door, trailer load of "stuff" in tow and found the previous tenant hadn't cleaned. In fact I would hazard a guess the previous tenant hadn't cleaned anything in a good 6 months.

Not to worry. The last week (though quiet on the blog) has been filled with wall washing and oven scrubbing and tears over how much dirt and muck their is to clean. But joy and triumph and great accomplishment after each room is completed.

I am horribly high on cleaning products, but found that sugar water was clearly sent straight from Heaven when it comes to wall washing.

I shall be finished I suppose by tomorrow. Then life ( and the blog) will return to normal and I suppose I shall continue to story of like to love.

Just for you Collette. I know how you swoon over Kyle's gallantry ;)

X

Wangling Life Boy style.

I thought you should know.

Boy was doing some creating today. Some serious, scrunch up the paper and throw it over my shoulder if its not right creating.

After this picture was taken he stole a permanent pen I was using to label boxes with (oo there is a hint as to what the big news is right there...)

Anyway, he drew all up his arms with that permanent pen.

And  I laughed and laughed and didn't feel one ounce of guilt because I was busy and thats what happens sometimes.

Plus.... eventually... it will wear off.

As we get older.. together. I am realising more and more that sometimes I am a terribly neglectful Mumma. I feed him nuggets and chips two nights in a row because I am busy, I turn the T.V on and sit him down in front of it for half a day because I am busy.

But thats O.K. That's ok because I know, most of the time, I am not super super busy and most of the time I am playing and cooking healthy food and being the best Mumma I can be.

So its ok to have a little rest.

Because tomorrow, tomorrow it will ALL be worth it :)

Like a thief in the night

Something big is about to happen....

Im a big Boy now.

Since Boy is an almost big boy now this means he is almost big enough to start learning about keeping his body safe.

He has been noticing he is a boy and Mumma is a girl. Especially since he has started potty training.

This got me thinking.

We will soon be having a FHE lesson on how our body is a temple. But I wanted something more helpful to help open dialogue about our private parts.

I have known about this book for a while.

Today, it arrived in the mail.

Some of the statistics are pretty scary. We are trying to teach Boy to "Ask Mumma & Dadda" before he goes anywhere with anyone - where we might not be able to see him.

We are also implementing an "open doors" rule because we want him to be safe.

The good thing is that he will take in as much as he needs and understands when we have our FHE.

It is scary to think he is big enough to understand even a little of these things but good that we can teach him 

"from head to toes, I say what goes"