Category Archives: Blah Blah



Life is unfair. There is absolutely no rhyme or reason for the horrible things that happen to some people and why some people are touched by tragedy again and again while others breeze through, seemingly without a care under the wings of lady luck.

So far, I am one of the latter lucky creatures and I am fully aware of my luck and good fortune and am grateful beyond belief. The kind of grateful that doesn’t need to be kept track of in a grateful diary or Facebook daily list. So very grateful, yet always waiting for the other shoe to fall, wondering when my luck is due to run out.

I’m not a religious person. At all. So I don’t have a God to thank for my blessings, and if I did, I would and then I would ask why the hell my friends don’t have the same good fortune. Why me? Why am I so lucky? Why can’t I suffer some burden to lessen some of what is going on in the lives of those I love. Where is the balance?

But there is no balance. It’s all random. The luck train carries the lucky and runs over others and then backs up to hit them again, and again. We say things like “surely, your luck will change” or “you must have earned enough good karma now, something great must be just around the corner”.  We don’t know shit. It’s all random. So cruelly random.

Just this week I have friends going through the toughest of shit, none of which are my stories to tell, and I can’t even touch on the shit to let you, the reader, know what they are dealing with because I don’t want it to seem that I am using their shit to get my sympathies. I am not that person. Suffice it to say they are all dealing with the worst of the toughest shit. Real shit. I don’t mean “drama”. I actively avoid the drama seekers. You know the type. They seek out and attract problems and drama and never stop complaining about the drama – so much drama. They are the people that don’t seem to realise how good they actually have it.

As I sit here waiting for my third baby to arrive, I feel so guilty with all my good fortune. I am lucky to even be having this baby. All of my kids are amazing blessings that I didn’t even know that I wanted.  I really hope my luck continues with the health of this baby. I may not be religious, but I am often superstitious which is ridiculous. I feel I have been so blessed that how could I possibly be allowed to have even more? How can this good fortune continue? Is no one in charge here? Do I throw salt or spit left? How do I keep this good thing going? There is no control. It’s all random. I am living the dream and am surrounded only by happiness and love. So incredibly lucky. And really, ridiculously grateful at what random has thrown my way.

36 Weeks.

36 weeks

It’s really hard to take a pregnant selfie. Unless you point the camera at a full length mirror and then you get the hideous background in as well, which is usually a bathroom or a messy bedroom. The front camera selfie gets much less of the background in but makes for awkward angles and strained concentration faces to get the right shot. One must include the preggo belly and the face. It’s awkward.

I’m 36 weeks pregnant today. The photo above was taken last night as I was about to step into the car and head to the Princess Theatre to see Once, The Musical. The dress is getting a touch too tight, but I certainly wasn’t about to buy a new one just for one night out, never to be worn again. My feet were killing me, but I felt about as pretty as one can at this late stage of pregnancy.

I had purchased a pair of sheer stockings, but because they weren’t maternity stockings, they did not stretch over the bump. Instead, they sat below the bump in an uncomfortable way. Before the show even started, the stockings rolled down my hips and were halfway down my butt before I could find a ladies toilet in order to make some adjustments. I decided to ditch the stockings in the name of comfort. No one was looking at my legs anyway. I caught plenty of people looking at the bump though. Who can blame them? It is rather huge. More of a planet than a bump.

I had to climb a gajillion stairs to get to my seat way up high in the dress circle of the theatre. Not fun for anyone but I could feel it in all of my pregnant places. The seats were made for theatre going sardines. Non-pregnant ones. It was a very cosy and rather intimate with strangers kind of experience. It’s a bloody good thing the show was so good, because those 2 hours in those seats were about as uncomfortable as I have ever been.

So, long story short. 36 weeks! Don’t go to the sardine theatre.

And also… 36 weeks! only 4 weeks until I meet this baby! Exciting!


This Time Around

I suffered from post-natal depression with both of my babies. Each time was different, yet very much the same. The same isolation and loneliness and fear, the guilt, the hopelessness, and those horrifying intrusive thoughts.  Dark, dark days.

I am so far out the other side of all that hideousness, that I feel like I have overcome and triumphed. Yet, in 5 weeks time I will be having another baby. Will it happen again?

It’s pretty simple to say no. I joke that I’m just not going to “do that” again like it’s as easy as choosing which brand of nappies to use this time around. I wish it was that easy. Just say “no” to PND and all will be well. I know it’s not that easy and I am a little terrified.

I haven’t bothered setting any appointments with psychiatrists because I have been let down both times with the previous births and the psych team never came, even though the appointments and flags were in place. The mental health system is a bit shit, so I wont even attempt to rely on it this time. I know some of my triggers into darkness and appointments and annoying people are two of the big ones, so that rules out counselling and psychiatrists. I also need to get out of the hospital as soon as possible after the birth, so that is the plan and one I hope to be able to stick to if things go well. I might even bring the car capsule into the delivery suite with me so we are good to go ASAP. Haha!

Another thing I need to make sure of is that I get plenty of sleep. This can be a bit tough with a new baby! But I have been practising taking naps on the couch and am now an expert. Hubby and I will also go back to the tag team evening parenting where I go to bed early and he stays up late with bubs so that I get as much sleep as possible.

I know that PND can be beaten, I’ve done it twice. I can do it again. But I would really rather not have to fight it. I hope things are different this time around.


Saying Goodbye

Dog chewing toy

It’s been a full month since we gave up Leo to be re-homed.

It was a really hard decision to make and one that came with a lot of guilt. Even though it was definitely the best decision for our family and for Leo, we felt really shit about doing it. We have judged other people for giving up their pets. The universe in all it’s wisdom, likes to punish me for judging people by putting me in the same position as those I have judged. This is teaching me that I should not judge because no one really has any idea what other people are going through and why they make the decisions they do.

Anyway…. after the decision was made, we needed to make arrangements and there was a LOT of crying. Big fat tears and ugly scrunched up face crying with much snot. It felt worse than when Azrael died. Such a deep pain.

The truth is, we wouldn’t be re-homing him if I wasn’t having another baby. This tiny house and that big dog and a tiny baby and all the dog hair. Argghh. I had been advised to make him an outside dog. I couldn’t do that. I would rather see him go to a different home than to banish him to outside. Leo is not an outside dog.

I took Leo to the pet shelter myself and cried the entire time. It was very, very shit. I worried about how long he would be there before being adopted. I worried that he would fret. I felt really sad and shit about everything.

After the paper work was signed and money paid, there was nothing left to do but to say goodbye. I patted his head and caressed his ridiculously soft caramel ears in my hands one final time as I choked out my goodbye and walked away.

Sitting in my car outside, I tried to compose myself enough to drive home. I could see the back gate of the pet shelter in my wing mirror. Then I see Leo in my wing mirror. He is being walked by a couple. I know that he needs to go to the vet for a full check up – it’s part of the pet shelter’s policy and he’s due for his flu vaccine too, so I’m sure that’s where these people are taking him…. So I stalk them… as you do. Slowly driving on a parallel street, parking ahead a little bit and watching in my mirror through big fat tears and body heaving sobs. Completely normal behaviour right? Right.

I stalked and watched until he was at the vet. I ugly cried some more and then drove home.

For the next few days I stalked the pet shelter’s website and Facebook page, waiting for his advert to go up. After three days, I still hadn’t seen his ad. Nothing! Until I checked the “recently adopted” page. He had already been adopted! I was thrilled. It looks like he spent only one night at the shelter and then someone took him home. They paid quite a handsome adoption fee too!

I know that this house is much calmer without him and I am calmer and overall, this is a much happier house without any pets. I can bring a baby home without worrying about all the things I was worrying about. I can deal with the high possibility of another trip down PND lane without the added stress of having Leo around.

I hope Leo is getting the love and attention he needs and deserves. I hope his ears are getting stroked and I hope he is getting lots of walks and playtime and tummy rubs and has all the toys to chew.

Saying goodbye was the right decision but that doesn’t make the tears go away. We still miss him.

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