About Me

My Photo
New South Wales, Australia
I write to make people smile about the craziness of life with small people - because it IS crazy, no doubt. It is also wonderful.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Things For Which I Am Not to Blame

It's been a lengthy absence, I know. This family of mine keep me jumping, and it leaves little time for putting my words where my thoughts are. But I've just sent the children to read for thirty minutes, so I've got some time. 

Things have been going on in my world, things I can't control, things which have been rather stressful. All is well, dear friends, so do not worry. It's more that these things have inspired me to examine what goes on in my head. As such, I have compiled a list of things which are NOT MY FAULT.

1. Eczema/Allergies/Asthma. Even though it was a genetical probability, the fact that my children all have one (or all three) of these conditions - NOT MY FAULT. 
2. Respiratory viruses. Totally NOT MY FAULT, and in fact, I err on the side of caution in order to avoid spreading it to other children. 
3. Head Lice. NOT MY FAULT. Even if I suspect I am the "mother ship", I am quite thorough when treating this. 
4. Three year-old tantrummy angst. NOT MY FAULT!
5. Sibling rivalry. Also NOT MY FAULT!

I am a really good mum. I love my children passionately, and I am constantly seeking to do things better, to learn more about what makes them tick, to encourage them in their passions. I know that one has a special corner on her blanket that she likes to touch her face with when she's going to sleep. I know that another only likes cheese on sandwiches, not with crackers. I know just the right way to scratch this one's back, and I know that my son's favourite colour is currently red. I know the name of our resident imaginary friend (Leo), and that if I want the television turned off, I had better ask a specific child to do it, or I will have war. 

I know that in order to be a good wife and mother, I need to invest in myself; I need to invest nutritionally, physically, mentally, spiritually. The last few weeks have been draining, and I need to put something back in the tank. I am making this promise to that woman in the mirror, . That I will feed her good food, and love her with exercise, and I will make her needs a priority. I will care for her as well as I care for my family. Because she's part of this family, too. 


Thursday, January 1, 2015

Happy New Year!

I am choosing to live a life of patience, a life of grace. A life filled with music and silence, laughter and tears, joy and grief. A life of all those things, as well as the space between them. A whole life. To not numb away the things which don't feel good with food, or Facebook. 

Look, I get the whole 'resolution' thing; I've tried it. And I think what causes the inevitable failure of them for me is that they are tied to one specific day, rather than a desire to live a changed life. That is after all, what resolutions are about - the desire to live differently. Which isn't so much a goal as it is a choice. And given a choice, would anyone ever say "I choose to live more kindly, but only for a year?" 

I am also choosing to live life more fully by eating better, and exercising. I'm hoping this will lead to weight loss. A big weight loss. If you're interested, I'm chronicling this over at my other blog, I Love You More Than Chips; I would be honoured to have you join me for the ride. 

I suppose on the 'resolution' side of things, I have two things I want to make a habit of: 
Washing up after every single meal, and putting away clean laundry immediately after bringing it in from the clothesline. 

What about you?

XO, Sarah

Sunday, December 14, 2014

A Box of Crackers

My daughter's preschool Christmas party was last Tuesday. We were asked to bring something to share for a lunch.

I brought a box of crackers, which left me feeling simultaneously impressed and mortified. 

Impressed because 1. I remembered to show up - ON TIME! and 2. I brought food. 

Mortified because A BOX OF CRACKERS. 

Look - I know that it's not about me, it's about the kids. I know that, okay? I get that when it's all said and done, and my crackers are in a bowl on the table, with all the other food, nobody even knows who brought the box of crackers.  No, it's more that unlike the Grinch, my heart is two sizes too big, and because I love people best via food, bringing a box of crackers feels like a pitiful expression of love. I've tried so hard to continue being the mother who makes incredible food, despite having an incredibly busy schedule - and most of the time, I pull it off. This season, with its endless parties, ceremonies, and events - has undone me. I've had to say no to some good and noble things, in the pursuit of balance. Tonight for example, my preschooler was slated to sing at the community carols event. She was tired, I was tired. In fact, we're all tired. So I made the decision to not go, despite this being her first time. I just couldn't manage it. 

I think that's what bothered me about the crackers. I WANTED to make some clever, healthy, Christmas-themed treat to share at the preschool because in my mind it shows just how much I love the staff at our preschool. I couldn't make it happen though. I'm disappointed in myself. 


Christmas isn't always about fancy. At its heart is a baby. Born amid the bleating of sheep, the lowing of cattle. Love, sent from Heaven, and wrapped in whatever his mother and father could find, just to keep him warm. 

Thinking about this makes me see - that it's not a box of crackers after all. It's a box of Love. 

XO, Sarah