What am I complaining about?

I am grateful for posts like these that put things in perspective. Especially if you're a mother, please read it.

I've been feeling dissatisfied lately. Not quite happy with my lot. I don't know why I've been feeling this way. I think my eyes may be on the wrong things. On the natural instead of on the heavenly. I've been wanting...things. Nicer things than the ones I've got. An easier ride. Been dwelling on regrets. But when I read posts like the above one, I realise (again!) how insignificant all the things I think and worry about are.

Here's a little excerpt from the blog:
"I have never had to discuss the two day journey that was made walking to the hospital. The fistula I developed after the heartbreaking four day labour and stillborn birth. I've never had to think about getting through labour on my own, no doctor, midwife or even someone remotely qualified to help. I've never given birth in a camp or walked across a war zone and had a bullet that was three inches away from my womb removed, like a woman in Afghanistan did late last year."


Turbo's birth was long and hard. Without medical intervention, one or both of us would have died. The umbilical cord was around his neck and so he couldn't put his chin down to progress down the birth canal. Because of this, he was also a little distressed, and his heart rate was fluctuating quite a lot. Eventually after trying many different things, they managed to suction him out, one and a half days after when my labour started.

But he was healthy, apart from a tender and misshapen head, and full of beans.

Check out the cone head!

So today I choose to put things in perspective and be grateful. And tomorrow, and the day after, I will do my best to make that same choice, as many times as it takes to start feeling that way again.

A very big day tomorrow

It is almost here. The day we dreamed of for five long years. The day we talked about celebrating and rejoicing in.

Mr Samoa graduates tomorrow!

Funny, now it's almost upon us, there hasn't been much celebrating or rejoicing so far. Is it part of the human spirit to forget the pain and trials so quickly and move on?

We're planning a party, but only after we move into our new place in four weeks time. And we've booked  a babysitter for this Saturday so at least I made sure we'd be doing some celebrating.

But I can't wait for tomorrow. To watch Mr Samoa, the very first person in his family to get a degree, to walk down Queen Street, decked out in his regalia, proudly wearing an emerald green sash. And then at 4.30pm I'll watch him walk across the stage and collect his certificate.

Mr Samoa you are the best! I am so proud of you, that despite the frequent obstacles, pitfalls and disappointments, you chose not to give up. It was all worth it.

And yes, Mr Samoa is VERY grateful for my support : )

Photos to come in the next few days

A little bit glad it's all over

Warning: this is a long, rambling post. Probably indicative of the state my head is in. Stick with me if you can.

It's been a huge weekend with our 6 year wedding anniversary and Turbo's third birthday. And I have been as sick as a dog. Seriously. I haven't felt this sick in ages.

It started on Wednesday with a sore throat, and as I was going to the doctor for something else anyway, I got her to check me out. "It's viral," she declared, "so gargle with salt water, take some Panadol and you'll be ok in a few days." Great. I actually hate that virus word. It means there's nothing you can do about it so suck it up and get over it.

Thing is, I didn't get over it but got progressively worse over the next couple of days. Now I can handle a sore throat, blocked nose and foggy head. I can even handle a bit of a hacking cough. As mums we have to be a little bit tough and carry on. The kids do not wait for anything. But this! This was way worse. I felt like I had to lie down all the time, and on Thursday, I spent a large portion of the day on the couch while Smiley played around me and on me. Thankfully, Turbo was at kindy for the morning. Although, I nearly cried when I realised I had to drag myself off the couch to go and get him.

This sapped me of all strength, I couldn't talk very well and oh, the pain in my ears! On Friday morning, the pain in my ears was unbearable and Panadol was doing nothing. Back to the doctor I went, thinking she'd take one look in my throat and ears and prescribe me some strong drugs. "All clear, " she said. "Sometimes when your throat is sore, your ears get sore too." No kidding. She gave me some stronger pain relief and a precautionary script for antibiotics and sent me on my way.

By that afternoon, I was feeling no better, maybe even worse and I was starting to cough a very painful, hacking cough. I got Mr Samoa to come home early, get Turbo from kindy (I could not even get myself to the car) and go and get the antibiotics and some fish and chips for the boys.

In all of these happenings, I also had to managed to bake for Turbo's birthday morning tea, which was happening on Saturday at our house. That said, the baking was a disaster. Anyway.

After a night of fitful sleep, as you tend to have when your throat is killing you and you can't breathe through your nose, Turbo woke up at 5am. How can you tell him off when it's his birthday though? So around 6am, we put on our happy faces, grabbed the balloons Mr Samoa had blown up the night before, and entered his room singing Happy Birthday. He opened his presents and the long day began....cleaning the house for the party (which thankfully was just my family - 14 adults and 6 kids!!), cooking popcorn, decorating and getting the garden ready. Didn't quite manage everything. The balloons didn't even get tied up and were all over the floor, but the kids all had fun kicking them around.

Turbo had a ball, which was the main thing. He got a bike from his Nana and Grandad and got to blow out his candles on his dinosaur cake. The 4 older boy cousins (which includes Turbo) ran around, made a mess and had fun. A successful party! I, however, was feeling terrible and sat down for a lot of the party, barely managing conversation. Check out some photos here...thanks Sammy!

After the party, my awesome parents cleaned up and then took Smiley home with them for the night. My first night away from him in almost 14 months! My mom was a bit apprehensive but knowing Smiley, all he needs is someone to cuddle and give him some attention and he's happy. I was right. He was totally fine, slept 12 hours straight during the night, gave them a two hour day nap (which is more than he gives me!!!!) and was all in all, "a delight" - my mom's words.

After a brief appearance at Scrag's awesome Toy Story party, (I thought I might just pass out during the treasure hunt, fun as it was), Mr Samoa delivered Turbo to his sister's house where he was spoiled and adored by his two older girl cousins all of the rest of Saturday and today.

Yes. It's true. We had a totally kid-free night ahead! After a long afternoon nap, I dragged myself out of bed, still feeling no better. I pulled on some jeans and flat shoes (Mr Samoa was lucky I even got out of my pyjamas) and we headed out for the long-awaited dinner at local restaurant. From what I could taste, the food was lovely. Mr Samoa loved his so I guess that's what counts? Instead of living it up, we headed home straight after where I crawled into bed and ate the delicious dessert my friend K had made us...even in my sick state I could taste this was good! Chocolate mousse cake with a biscuit base.
Mr Samoa = one piece.
Me = the rest. Yeah well, you gotta eat something when you're sick, right?

After another fitful night's sleep, slightly improved by nose spray, we woke up....by ourselves...not woken by kids....just by our own body clocks, at 7am. We sat around for a long time, amazed at all the time on our hands. My mom on the other hand informed me later that having Smiley with her and all that that involves made them late for church.

Mr Samoa then headed off to church while I raced over the bridge to pick up Smiley, thinking he'd be pining for me by now. He wasn't. I got a very mild welcome actually. Anyway, by then I was feeling awful again, totally sapped AGAIN so I had a little snooze on the couch. Don't you love moms? You can do that when you're at their house.

And this afternoon we picked up Turbo, who had had the time of his little life. And now, my two blessings are  tucked up in bed, back him, safe and sound. Ah, a night away certainly does make you a bit more grateful.

So I am thankful for the weekend, but also glad it's over. I am starting to feel a bit better now. The antibiotics must be kicking in. Mr Samoa has one more all day meeting tomorrow and then it's holidays for him. Looking forward to that.

Did you manage to stay with me all the way to the end? I'm not usually a person of so many words. And some photos might help but I don't think I'm up to it. So this is it. I'll stop now.

Misunderstood.....again

To be great is to be misunderstood.

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I'm beginning to think this is going to be Turbo's motto for the moment. At least until he can gain full control of his strength and his emotions. I've lost count of the number of times he's been misunderstood lately.

He likes to roar. As a lot of boys do, I think. And he is VERY loud and vibrant. Asking him to be anything other than loud is impossible. It is how he has been designed. Part of who he is.

Today, as he ran past a little girl who was standing near her mother's leg, he roared at her. And because he has absolutely no concept of personal space, it was quite near to her face. The mother looked in horror from me, to Turbo to her daugther, who had started to whimper. And I have to admit, I pretended I had not seen a thing.

You see I am sick to death of apologising for who Turbo is. "I'm sorry, he didn't do anything to your child, he's just loud.." or "..he's just being a little rough, sorry." When in actual fact, he's really just being a boy.

We were at McDonalds playground, my frequent afternoon hangout of late, and a little girl walked in, took one look at Turbo, who was zooming around and yelling in excitement, and ran out scared. She brought her dad back in with her, who, by the way, was very nice. But this girl was in a school uniform. Don't they have boys at her school? Has she never seen one before? Maybe not one of Turbo's kind?

Turbo's not often mean. He's not one to hit or shove or bite unless provoked. And this same full on, roaring, strong boy, will take another child's hand, saying "Come, come, I'll show you", and lead them gently down the slide if they're scared. His confidence is astounding. He'll make friends wherever he goes and climb high up ladders and towers at playgrounds.

These 'misunderstandings' happen often. You would think these mothers had never been around other children sometimes. But it's so nice, every so often to meet someone who not only understands, but has one like Turbo. The children click instantly and hoot with laughter as they roar in each other's faces and yell at the top of their voices. Ah, a kindred spirit.

I do think Turbo is an amazing little boy, with great capacity within him. He's just a little misunderstood at the moment.

What about you? Have you experienced what I'm talking about? Have you got a child like Turbo?

Turned the corner but still remember

I spoke to my amazing friend Leisl the other day, who called from South Africa on my birthday. We were in high school together and are still really good friends, despite the thousands of miles that now separate us. Thank you, God, for technology!

She has two boys, one of which is just five months old. And still wakes up three or four times a night. I really feel for her, and can totally relate. Because I was there not long ago. Unfortunately for me, this continued until Smiley was 11 months old (which was not welcome news to Leisl!). Remember this post?

I was so desperate, especially as I had done all the 'right' things. I had a good bed time routine set up and Smiley could soothe himself to sleep unaided. But when it hit 10pm, it was like none of that counted for anything.

I was exhausted, running on empty, and honestly surprised I did not develop post-natal depression as I did after the birth of Turbo.

http://weheartit.com/entry/8185940

Now I've turned the corner and I'm on the other side. I get a good night's sleep most nights, although my boys are early wakers and we're up at 6am. I refuse to complain about the early start. I know where we've come from.

The breakthrough was not by accident by the way. And he fought hard. But thankfully only for three or four nights. And this was not my first attempt either. I had tried at four months, which took weeks. And then he swiftly regressed back to square one, even though I was not feeding in the night and not going in to him.

So, what I'm trying to say is that I've been there....

When you're incapable of making any decisions because your brain is in such a fog.


When all you feel like doing is crawling into bed but you always have to keep going.


When your eyes feel constantly heavy-lidded and tears often and easily flow.


When you get sick because your body has absolutely no reserves.


When you have no patience (poor Turbo often got the worst of me) and feel like you're going to tip over the edge at any moment.


When you want to strangle other mothers who have babies younger than yours who sleep through the night.

When you wonder constantly what it is you're doing wrong...especially if it's your second time around with a baby who doesn't sleep well.


So I wanted to send cyber hugs and some prayers to any mums going through that awful phase where the night wakings are still frequent, and where you live in a constant fog, just trying to survive the day.

It does pass! I promise.

Bad mummy moments

What do you get when you put Turbo in a room full of little girls?

A lot of scared little girls who then start crying!

My coffee group met at my little place on Tuesday. Which is fine. But my place is, well, quite little for a group gathering. Turbo was his usual self that morning and we played inside (well I frantically cleaned, as you do before guests come over) until it was almost time for them to arrive.

Error number one. We played inside all morning.

So when they first girl arrived, Turbo literally started bouncing off the walls. Literally.

He was jumping on the couches, on the chairs, and roaring and bellowing loudly into the one year old little girl's face. As you can imagine, she clung like a limpet to her mom. And so loud were his roars that they woke Smiley up from his nap. Great, a 20 minute nap = a grumpy little boy.

Then more mothers arrived with more of their little girls. Turbo managed to make one cry before she even got a foot in the door.

Error number two. I was still keeping him inside. Although when you're the hostess, it's a little hard to exit the room.

The roaring continued, along with jumping around and throwing toys in the small space. My efforts to restrain him and calm him fell on deaf ears. He was not listening to me at all.

And then I felt it. Sheer embarrassment. It's been a while since I felt that about Turbo. He was out of control and I had no idea what to do.

Error number three. You're still inside, lady! Don't you get it?

My nightmare is having kids like you see on Super Nanny or Nanny 911. Out of control, kids calling the shots, and desperate, powerless-looking mothers. Shudder.

I finally took him outside. He then threw his bike at another little girl. I marched him into his room, trying to get a grip on my emotions. I prayed. I just wanted everyone with their little girls (nothing against girls, just in the moment kind of thinking) to go home! Where the heck were some boys anyway?!

After a bit of trampoline jumping he calmed down. I then finally realised he needed to let off steam. A typical characteristic of a spirited child. His acting out was a result of pent up energy, coupled with the excitement of unexpected visitors (I had forgotten to tell him people were coming...another no-no for spirited children). Duh!

On the whole though, things have been a lot harder since Mr Samoa started work. He definitely is listening to me a lot less and it's harder to get him to do things. Frustration station!

Could he still be adjusting too? Children feel things as much as we do. He's used to having his dad around a whole lot more. And I've been told they also go through testosterone surges at certain ages. He'll be three next month. Could that be a typical age for that? I really need to read more...in my ample spare time.

Anyway, the coffee group ended up ok. The little girl who had clung to her mother like a limpet at the beginning was laughing at Turbo's crazy antics by the end. And Smiley, despite being woken, was his usual cheerful and lovely self.

I know we all have these days. And that it's part of being a mom. But you always want your kid to not be like that, you know what I mean? You want your kid to show with his behaviour what a darn good mom you are. Yeah right. Ha ha!

Thing is, we're great mothers in spite of their challenging behaviour. Even in our worst motherhood moments.


 

Haircut hysterics

Image

To say Turbo does not like having his hair cut is an understatement. We only cut it every few months because he goes into absolute hysterics. Every. single. time.

Turbo is loud at the best of times. We live in a block of units. I can't imagine what the neighbours thought when at 5.30pm last night, there were tortured screams and hysterical sobbing, non-stop for about 15 minutes. Non- stop. From the depth of his belly, he used his lungs full force. I'm not talking about the kind of crying kids do when they don't want to sleep. This is much worse. My stress levels go through the roof.

And for what? A skew, terribly done, shorter in some patches hair cut. Mr Samoa does his best but when your subject is also thrashing for some of the time, it kind of limits what one can do.

Then to top it all off, I popped him straight into the shower, where he once again, went hysterical, because he doesn't like water coming down into his face. I had to forcefully hold him in the shower just to rinse the hair off his body. It left me wondering where the heck we had gone wrong.

I am actually getting a little worked up just writing about it!

We bought clippers to avoid this happening at a salon, but I wonder, would it be better to let the experts try?

Do you have any toddler hair cutting tips? Surely it can't be like every time?

A little bit of this and that

You would think after receieving such a lovely gift from Mr Samoa, I might remember to wear it more than once. Not the case. Apparently I now need to create a habit of wearing it. Who would have thought?

The culprit has claimed another victim. My wonderful mom stayed the night last to help me out while Mr Samoa is away. After getting up several times last night, my mom took over in the early hours of the morning. Apparently she was up for two hours with him!
And so a rather shattered and exhausted mom has now left me to it. At least she has seen it firsthand and knows I'm not kidding about how bad he is at the moment.

My mom with my gorgeous niece

I feel this leaves me no option but to leave him to cry. I am going to put my mattress next to his cot, though, and offer reassurance every now and then. And if he wakes Angel Turbo, we will just have to deal with that.

Who would have thought I'd he calling Turbo an angel!! But he is. A delight.

Thankful for that.

Smiley took his first steps a couple of weeks ago, a week before he turned 11 months. And now he's really going for it. So cute to see! Motherhood is so full of contradictory emotions. I am such a tired, exhuasted, frustrated, but very proud and full of love Mama. Here's a little video on the very day he took his first steps:

(Sorry it's sideways but i don't know how to edit it...I did download software and try!)

And nothing like coffee with some other awesome bloggers to pick you up a little.
You probably have already, but check out the great blogs of Sammy, Gail and Simone.
Note to self: remember to pay next time before you leave the cafe!

A sheepish thanks to Gail and Sammy. I owe you!

 

The torture chamber

A.K.A. Smiley's bedroom

It began at 11.30pm. I was in that lovely deep slumber that you fall into an hour or so after going to sleep. Smiley was up.
I fed him quickly and popped him back into bed which is usually all I have to do. He started crying again before I'd even reached the door. Damn.

I picked him up again and fed him again. He finished feeding and looked up at me, wide awake. Double damn.

At that point the options are leave him to cry, which can last for over an hour or try to settle him. Patting does not work, he gets even more upset. And (stupidly in this case!) I prefer not use a dummy with my babies. So into my arms he came and I began pacing the torture chamber, his head on my shoulder.

About 10 minutes later I gently put him down. He starts crying as soon as he hits the cot. I pick him and start pacing again.

15 minutes later I gently lay him down and leave the room. Phew. I lie down and start to drift off. Blissful sleep.

The culprit, who is also criminally cute

The crying begins again shortly after. Mr Samoa gets up. It's his second week of his new job tomorrow. Not a good look to be yawning. Anyway.

10 minutes later he emerges from the chamber. The crying starts up again. I storm into the room and yell at Smiley. Yes, I did. I am a crazy woman in the middle of the night. Of course, this makes him cry even more.

I try feeding him again. This doesn't work. By this time I've been up an hour anyway. Should have just left him to cry. Problem is, in our small unit, you hear, with clarity, every gut-wrenching wail. And despite ear plugs, I can still hear and am on edge the whole time, almost crying myself. O, and he'll often wake Turbo. And another thing, I swore I would never leave my Smiley to cry after all we went through with Turbo.

So the pacing starts again. I am deperate by now. Eventually his body goes limp and I am able to lay him down. I fall back alseep.

You would think this would be all for the night but no, there's more!

1am the crying begins again. In hindsight, I should have given him paracetamol at this point, but instead I stumbled groggily into the chamber and began pacing, tripping over my own feet in my exhuastion. Thankfully this time it was quick.

3.45am he's up again. I feed him this time. I know I shouldn't, but I am at my wits' end.

5.20 am he's up. And this time, despite both Mr Samos and I settling him, he will not go to sleep. At 6am I turn on his light and put some toys in his cot. He screams even louder. 5 minutes later he settles down. It's shortlived though. Turbo is now up. The day has begun. I am not ready for it. I am exhausted.

Please, please, God, may tonight be better.


So now you also know why I am absent from blogland every few days. Just trying to survive.


{Note: Sorry, but I'm not looking for advice. I know enough sleep training methods to write a book after all I've been through with both boys. I did have Smiley sleeping through the night at 5 months, but at great cost to me. What you can do is pray for me. Thanks!}

The winner is...

Been a bit absent from blogland. A lot's been going on.

One car down with a leak, then within days the second car died...for good. 

She had it coming but it's still sad.

So have been trying to sort out a car for Mr Samoa to get to work in next week, his very first week, while the other car is at the mechanics....which only opens on Monday.

Nice for some.

Anyway, I do apologise and hope to be more frequent again soon...both in posting and commenting.

Thanks to all who entered the giveaway and thanks heaps for following my blog!

Drum roll please....

The winner is:

Jules from Mama Wears Jandals



Well done Jules!!
Please leave me your email address and I'll organise to post them to you asap

At my house - Celebrations! and what I've learned along the way

Today, the very, very last, final result was posted up for Mr Samoa's exams.

He passed!!

So we packed the kids in the car as soon as they woke and headed to the park for ice creams.

We want to celebrate every moment of this victory...savour it, if you will.

It's been an incredibly stretching 5 year journey, spanning most of the length of our marriage. Crazily, we added two kids to the mix during this time

(one kind-of planned, one totally unplanned).

We have struggled, soared, cried and laughed, but most of all, grown stronger in every way. We have learned to draw together and encourage each other, and not let the stress drive a wedge in between us.

We've also learned to accept help, and ask for it sometimes. That was hard. But it became easier along the way.

The lowest moment was when we learned that Mr Samoa's study was not finishing when we were lead to believe it would.

We fought the system, we prayed, we met with those in authority.

It was not to be. The agonising journey was to continue for at least another 6 months. Hard to swallow when that's what you've been holding out for for 4 and a half years.

This last season of the extra study time has been the toughest of the 5 years. No job offer presented itself, like we prayed and believed for.

Doors slammed shut in our face.

And so we learned to trust God like we've never trusted before. Trust that He would look after us, that He would work things out for our good and that this journey was not going to break us!

And a job came Mr Samoa's way, at the right time, in the right place.

Now it's over, I can look back and breathe a sigh of relief.

We waited for this moment for a long time.

Mr Samoa starts work as a qualified teacher in 8 weeks!

As Mr Samoa would say in true Samoan style:

Cheee-hoooo!!!!!!!!!

See what's going on at other houses here

Doing better, thanks

So the last few weeks have been a little rough.
 This post pretty much describes the last two or three weeks.

I was completely exhausted, depleted, not coping, low. It was bad enough for me to go and see a doctor.
I usually just 'push through', which is probably why I hit such a wall.
I'm the type of person who doesn't sit still for long, likes to accomplish things and has a to-do list constantly in her head. I give until I've got no more in the (subconscious) quest to be the perfect wife and mother.
Anyone do the same?

And after 9 months straight of waking at least once a night, quite often more, no wonder I'm feeling the way I am.

We have (once again!!! read this post or this one for the battles with Turbo) tried different methods, and battled with Smiley to get him sleeping better.
My babies seem to be the kind who just don't give up that easily.

Crying it out does not work. They go for hours night after night after night....for weeks. For months I was up at night with Smiley. I refused to feed him, you see, before a certain time, and so it was either let him scream
(I tried for a few weeks but it didn't work and it's tortureous for me in our small unit where we live)
or sit with him or walk him up and down.

Looking back now I think I was nuts. Once again, I was trying to accomplish something:
the 'ultimate goal' (dripping with sarcasm) of having (drum roll please):
A baby who sleeps through the night.
Hmmmm.
I secretly hate those words!

And it was always me getting up as Mr Samoa had to study for exams, write assignments etc. and it was his last shot at getting his degree.
We weren't about to take any chances!

I'm rambling. Back to the doctor's appointment...

Her 'diagnosis' all boiled down to this:
"If you sort your baby's sleep out, you will be fine."

No kidding. You think?



She prescribed me some multivitamins and organised me a blood test.
We had a talk about post natal depression too.
I struggled with PND for 5 months after's Turbo's birth so I (and my family) have been watching out for it this time around.
But so far so good. I've enjoyed the journey so much more this time...
until these past few weeks.


The blood test levels came back all fine. Dang.
I was hoping I could 'fix' me with an iron pill or something.

But I have to agree with the doctor. The tiredness is taking it's toll.

But the good news (flippin' great news actually) is that this week I am feeling a whole lot better.

Still tired, yes, but Mr Samoa is being amazing.
He lets me sleep in every morning and because he hasn't currently found a summer job, he's home and helping me.

On top of that I've shifted my mindset. I HAVE to look after me more.
So I rest at every opportunity, even if it's just half an hour.

And as I mentioned in the last post, Smiley is now doing 2 hour afternoon naps instead of 40 minutes.
This makes a HUGE difference too. I didn't realise what a strain it was until it changed.
When he wakes up I feel ready to see him again. I look forward to it.


So things are looking up.

Phew!

Get me outta here!

Yip, been a heck of a day.

A day where everything your kids do annoys you.

Where you overreact to small things and your emotions have a life of their own. Just can't seem to control them - especially the anger.

When Turbo tipped the contents of his potty onto the floor next to the toilet in his bid to help me, I knew he was doing his best. I knew, but I couldn't help myself. I yelled and shoved gently moved him towards the door.

And when he resisted my attempts to brush his teeth for the thousandth time, I threw the toothbrush at the mirror and locked myself in my bedroom for a couple of minutes. The alternative would not have been nice.

I won't even go into my frustration with Smiley. Super cling-on boy!!!

And for me, a usually level-headed and relatively calm person, this behaviour is disconcerting me. There could be a few explanations.

1. I'm so freakin tired...from waking up at night, from the full on demands of having a 2 year old and an 8 month old, both active and never still, from cooking and cleaning and washing over and over again

2. This season has been extremely taxing in every way for 5 long years. Sure it's nearly over, but it isn't just yet.

3. Ummm, I don't have any more reasons but I feel there should be a third

Did you know (I'm sure you all do) that financial pressure of one of the main reasons couples divorce? Not that we've ever come close, but we've been under quite extreme financial pressure for a long time.

Yeah, ok, I know there are people much worse off.

On days like today I end up thinking "Get me outta here!".

But no-one answers my cry and I can't leave, so....

you just carry on.

Getting more and more frazzled as the day goes on.

Today's only saving grace was an hour and a half respite at coffee group this morning. We went to a cafe run by another church where they look after your kids while you have cake and coffee for only $4!

Got to hang out with two lovely woman and forget my woes for a while.

Sorry for the pitiful post. I will rally and be ok tomorrow.

Has anyone had a day like this recently? I'd love to know I'm not alone

Unexpected sources

Mr Samoa and I have been on quite a journey in the last four or so years. Actually, it's more like a rollercoaster that we've been on, sometimes leaving us thrilled with how things have turned out and other times taking all of our strength to lift our weary feet.

(Quick note for those who don't know: Mr Samoa has been studying for the last four and half years, and we've had both our kids in the middle of it all)

So when blessings appear from unexpected sources, we can only marvel at how God looks after us.

And breathe a sigh of relief.

Mr Samoa has been working part time while he's finishing his study at his old work. This work is in the alternative education sector so it's great during term time, but during holidays, well...you can't work when the students are on holiday, right?

So a couple of weeks back we were a little stuck. Bills and rent paid but food...well.....

One of my best friends was around one morning when I was trying to sort something out with Work and Income, a government department that can help with food. They were less than forthcoming. So my friend got on the phone to her friend (who does not know me) who had been in a similar situation when her husband was studying, to ask where she got help from when things got a little tough.

She said she would sort something out, asked for my address and hung up the phone. My friend and I thought she'd be sorting something through her church or one of the places she used to get help from.

The next day, this was delivered to my door:

WOW!

This awesome woman had paid for it herself. There must have been over $300 worth of groceries.

What a blessing this woman was to us! I hope to help someone else in the same way when Mr Samoa gets a job, pay it forward, you know?

Feeling: thankful!

Finally made it

I've finally made it to the computer. The house is a complete mess, there's loads of washing to be washed and folded, and dinner to cook. But I just have to write something. Pause.

Nothing comes to mind.

I have a head cold. You know those ones where your nose is completely blocked, so blocked you can't even sniff and you might as well not eat because you can't taste anything? My thoughts are fuzzy.

Let me try again.

I love the way this woman and this woman are getting real about marriage on their blogs. That's where Mr Samoa and I are at. It's a bit hard going at the moment. Constant tiredness, sickness all around, messy house, short fuses, and a bit of baggage coming to the forefront needing to be dealt with.

We've been 'away', staying at my parents house in the beautiful Mairangi Bay on the North Shore of Auckland while they were overseas. Beautiful beach, cafes, good weather. Sunhats out. Felt like a holiday. Which was good.

Cousins have been hanging out.

 Brothers have been showing their love.

Really needing a bit more of this:

That will have to be all for now. Over and out.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

This, too, shall pass

To say this bit of our lives has not turned out the way we thought it would is an understatement. Mr Samoa's study is not finished. We thought it would be finished in June. University politics prevented this and he still had one paper left hanging on. Which means, not fully qualified and unemployable. Great. And so much hinges on him getting work of course. Where we'll live, moving to a bigger house, where Turbo goes to kindergarten. After 4 and half years of just getting by, I am yearning for the security Mr Samoa's job will bring.  

In the midst of this all, you just have to choose to be thankful. The alternative is not very pretty. So here's a few things that have made me smile lately:

Dinner in the garden

Walks with the family

Beautiful weather

Watching the boys being boys and spending time with their Daddy

Enjoying my gorgeous sons. I'm so blessed to be able to be at home with them!

"This, too, shall pass", so why not enjoy it while I can?

That darn S word!

Sleep, sleep, sleep. You seem to say that word a lot when you're a mom. Either talking about how your child is with it, what you're doing about it or how you need more of it. But I have some good news...for me anyway. And lots of sympathy for those who can't share in my joy.


My 6 month old baby boy is now sleeping 10 to 11 hours consistently at night without so much as a peep!!!! To say I am chuffed is an understatement. I was seriously beginning to wonder how I was going to survive. I guess we got to a place of sheer desperation. We were tired and not functioning well. My awesome friend and sister, Sammy, said that I need to be a little harder. Her words were a bit different to that but that's how we'll phrase that one for now.




I tried being hard with Benjamin and it did not work. I remember pacing up and down outside his room for hours while he screamed at night - for 2 nightmarish weeks! Trained experts said it should take 3 to 5 nights. They don't know Benjamin. And a month or so later, he reverted back to waking...so what WAS the point?


So anyway, we moved our bed into the lounge (we have a very small 2 bedroom unit) so we'd at least have wall between us and the crying. We began praying in his room before he went to sleep and praying together once he was asleep. After 4 nights his crying was down to about 10 minutes. By night 5 he slept 10 or 11 hours solid and so it has continued.



Day time is not so great and often he only has two cat naps. But that's ok! I am not complaining. I am more than not complaining: I am thankful. Grateful. Getting at least 6 solid hours of sleep every night is just I had hoped for. I am a new woman. Yeah!

Brain dead

Well to say motherhood is a challenge at the moment is an understatement. Sometimes I wonder if all mothers find it so hard or if somehow it's ME...do I just not quite manage? Maybe it's the stage Benjamin's at. Or dare I say it again: Benjamin is a Spirited child = darn hard work!!



I never want to be one of those people who think they've got it harder. Because in actual fact, I have a great life! I am very blessed. I just tend to forget that a lot lately. My tolerance level is close to zero. Probably because I'm 6 months pregnant!!! (which I hardly ever think about - poor Bump, I do love you too!)



Most places I go, someone will make a comment about how full of energy he is, or how loud and chatty, or how friendly. Yes, he is all of that. And it's wonderful. He is full of character and life and vibrancy. But that also means he is NEVER still, except for when he's eating in his high chair or engrossed in a DVD.



Sigh. Of course, at the end of the day, I wouldn't change a thing about my Benjamin. I just need a fresh dose of strength and perspective. I know where to go for that.

"Riding in cars with girls"

This is a great photo taken on the day he turned 18 months old. He's already a hit with the girls, and quite comfortable at the wheel!

The exit

So the season of uncontrollable, public tantrums has begun. I made my first exit from a cafe on Monday, screaming baby under one arm, pushing stroller with the other. I can rest assured this will not be the only one for my spirited little boy, but the first of many, many exits.



So I better get good at them. Should I wave and smile as I go?

Attack of the killer fleas

We have had a few extra house guests since we moved that are proving a little difficult to get rid of. Yuk! My poor little boy has been more than a little unhappy. On Saturday night he was up four times. Eventually I ignored him. He was being eaten alive!!!!! One of those guilty moments. If only he could have told me.




And church on Sunday night was a nightmare. Half way through the service, I just had to leave. He wouldn't stop crying and I was slightly stressed, and without hubby as he was studying for his exam.


Unfortunately my darling Benjamin has his mommy's sensitive skin and the flea bites scab up and weep, making them look ten times worse. And the ones on his hands have blistered! I remember going to primary school with multiple plasters on my legs because I had broken out in ugly blisters after being bitten by a mosquito.


Thankfully, I think that as of today, they have finally moved out. Phew.