quick catch up … no coffee sorry

Thats only cos my coffee intake has been maxed today. Theres shit I keep forgetting to write about so to stop the spinning, here it is, all in one flash old bullet pointed mess 😉

  • anxiety levels been peaking for weeks now
  • kept at bay with small amounts of sedative / anti anxiety argh
  • but embracing it … it’s the only way to manage it at the moment
  • but it pisses me off … oh well
  • had a weekend with the mokos
  • that was completely gangstah ❤
  • love those little midgets
  • got the 2nd youngest coming on thursday for the night
  • yah!
  • did i tell yah, ACC upped my weekly payments?
  • that’s right, after nearly 5+ years of battling those bastards, here is my earth shattering increase:
  • I’ve gone from $35 per week to $45 to week.
  • I know …
  • how fucking awesome is that?
  • 10 whole dollars!
  • grrr
  • no back pay
  • no ‘sorry we fucked it up’
  • no.
  • yet another attempt to get what is owed, is scheduled for the 20th decemeber.
  • good lord.
  • that should take 1 to 2 years to sort through.
  • but hey, I don’t have anything to lose, and I be doing this shit on my terms now bitches!
  • trying to embrace this hormone thing; according to the professionals, I need more drugs … FFS
  • I remember when they were reluctant to hand out pills … Now? Pfft
  • it’s hot as fuck here
  • fans have been going all day
  • we had a pre-christmas house inspection
  • apparently we are the best tenants ever 😉
  • i only freaked out once and deep breaths seemed to soothe that one.
  • have i ever mentioned that anxiety and panic attacks are a pain in the ass??
  • well they are.
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point of difference?

Me and the partner are like chalk and cheese … light and dark … sunshine and rain … black and white … up and down …

You get my drift ay.

And that’s not just in opinion or taste or dislikes or food … it’s in virtually everything. We have some common ground, but even there we tend to sit at completely different ends of that spectrum.

We’ve learnt a lot from each other as the years have transpired and tend to think of ourselves as a yin and yang rather than complete opposites. You can’t have a yin without a yang, if you get my meaning …

But sometimes … just sometimes …

I got rid of most of the time wasters and hanger-on-ers that milled around my existence, a very long time ago. When they do ring and want something my go-to is a big fat NO. My partner isn’t like that at all. I’ve learnt a bit of balance and perspective from him I guess, and won’t cut a niggah off as quick as I used too. However, I’m a perceptive wee thing and can usually tell when someone be yanking my chain. Thats a tool the partner doesn’t possess. Yet. He’s working on it, slowly … but pretty much, if someone asked for the shirt off’ve his back, he’d give it.

Now I don’t have a problem with that part of his character at all. It’s part of the reason I love him. But …

Yes there’s a But …

When said chain yanker already has a custom-made shirt from Italy on, and they’re asking for his because they left their other handmade shirt from France, at home, and they’re sweaty and uncomfortable … and my partners shirt looks more comfy …

Then I have a problem with him giving the shirt off his back and I also have a problem with the Italian / French shirt wearing douchebag.

But he is surrounded by them. Literally. Nearly every person he knows is to one degree or another, like this.

I know this because I’ve witnessed it, obviously … but even more annoying is this:

The partner has had a back injury for nearly 10 years. He injured it on the job and hasn’t worked full-time since then. Now this kills him. He’s a worker. He loves doing physical stuff and he’s damn good at it. So to lose the ability to do this has messed with him mentally and physically. Now he can’t sit without cringing in pain.

And then there’s the chain yanking tossers …

They’ll ring … ‘hey bro, can you give us a hand to build … construct … move … hey bro, can we borrow some money … hey bro can you look after our kids … hey bro … you’re not doing anything, can you pick us up … drop us off …’

On and on it goes. And they have no fucking shame either! They don’t think … Ahhh this man is injured, maybe we should ask someone else … Or, ahh this man is injured, how about We help him out!!

It pisses Me no end.

Theres no telling him though and the extent of my lectures now only involve a mild … ‘oh well …’, when he complains about his back hurting because he’s helped a ‘friend’ move house.

I also don’t concede anymore. Meaning, when I ask for a hand and he complains, I remind him that he can do way more for every other cunt so he can do it for the cunt that has put up with his bullshit for the last god knows how long.

He gets my point.

But sometimes, just sometimes …

I think there’s going to come a day when I make a little Facebook post, so they can all see it, and it’ll read a little something like this:

“Hey … all you fuckers that have bled [partner] dry … have rung in the middle of the night for a drunken pity party … have borrowed our last dollar … have promised to be here, but don’t ever come … have suggested [partner] needs to get over it and get a job … that we have it easy … that have asked for everything and given nothing … Yes, you lot … Don’t bother ringing here … I’ll hang up on your bludging assess … Don’t bother borrowing money … I will come and get it back, with fucking interest … In fact, fuck off completely.” Kindest fucking regards from the Missus!

update from the exhibition:

I haven’t been able to get my body round my head space, or vice versa, and do a decent update on the Exhibition Opening on Saturday just gone.

Suffice to say it was fucking awesome and I was gangstah lol.

Thats it in a nutshell.

I was so nervous in the morning and ended up dropping a quarter sedative to take the edge off … I had tears and more tears … and I was excited. It made for a whole heap of discomfort for someone not used to a single emotion, let alone a few at a time. Fucken hell … I am learning though! My Need to go pretty much outweighed my Fear.  Couple that with the Need to do the big “Fuck You” salute to my father. Yep, that spurred Me on no end 😉

We got there and I was sweating like a rapist and had to change my t.shirt lol … sweaty wasn’t exactly the ‘look’ I was after. Nervously fucked, Yes … Sweaty rapist, No.

I had invited all my beautiful family so they could support Me. They were pre-warned of what a panic attack looked like and what to do if anything un-toward should happen. And they were gangstah ❤ They took such good care of Me … and pretty much followed my lead … which meant they were everywhere and nowhere all at once lol. But they did it … and it meant the world to Me that they did it for Me.

I had moments, but not too many. When it felt to bright, I moved. When it got to loud, I moved. I held my daughters hand when I felt scared in the crowd. I found my Mamas shoulder to hold on to, when I felt uncertain. I caught my partners eye when I needed backup. My big girl made sure we were fed and took photos of everything … because I completely forgot about that – hence the lack of photos here.

All in all it was fan-fucking-tastic!! I feel like I achieved the one something that I really needed to this year. It’s made Me more determined to focus on what I need slash want to do next year. And I’m actually looking forward to it.

Over the next few weeks I’ll drip feed the exhibition photos as I get them from my daughter and what I can scavenge up from what we took. Funny thing – as excited as everyone was to see my art up on massive white walls, I was just stoked to have gotten there. And to have enjoyed it!! So much so we ended up being pretty much the last ones to leave lol. Decided I’m going to take all of them to everything I need to go to from now on 😉

Oh … and I bought Me a coffee 🙂 Bonus!

anniversary

1 year its been

but for me

its been more like

40.

everyone else

lost you last year,

i lost year

many, many years ago.

i’m watching your babies

today …

i’ll keep watching them,

i promise.

i love you

sister of mine

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dissecting, processing and clarifying : Me styles

Bullet points on 😉

  1. hey [Me]
  • by disabling the relationship, an air of maturity and authority is thusly donned.

2. I don’t mind you hating me you got every right,

  • affirmation and confirmation = I’m about to fuck you over … wait for it …

3. but

  • said after the initial ‘grooming statement’

4. when it effects my mokos

  • classic, ‘what about the children’ routine

5. to see your hatred towards me

  • classic blaming tactic … *yawn*

6. it hurts them and thats not fair,

  • ‘the children, the children … what about the children’

7. especially when they miss their mum,

  • ahh yes, the thick layer of guilt
  • ‘remember your sister died, you heartless bitch’

8. you can do whatever you like to me,

  • just to reiterate the opening statement whilst dusting off the super hero cape …

9. this is the second time you have done it,

  • just to add a touch of intellectual mystery … before …

10. you are nearly fifty and you still have a chip on your shoulder that I can’t help

  • oh, a big slathering of  …. the obvious!

11. just for the record

  • ahh, getting authoritatively technical now …

12. i didn’t abandon you, your mother left me,

  • ahh yah … strong women tend to do that after their husbands have beaten them and they’ve had enough of being treated like shit
  • aunty google said abandonment is waaaayyy different in definition to NEGLECT. JS.

13. if you don’t want anymore contact thats fine by me

  • *says whilst hitting the messenger ‘block’ button*

14. my mokos don’t want to come home to hatred like that

  • taadah!! All the patriarchal misogynistic controlling classics, straight from the ‘How To Shut Women Up and Keep Them Silent and Submissive’ Handbook.
  • Now to commence sulking.

😉

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oh the fathers day post and it’s repercussions

So, today started off well … got up … had a shit … turned on the Wifi … started brewing the coffee and revved up the laptop … just like any other day in beach paradise …

Until it wasn’t.

If you’ve skulked around my blog for awhile, you’d have read my whingey ‘I’ve got daddy issues’ posts … believe Me, theres a tonne of them … posts, that is lol.

What you’d also have figured out by now, is my blog is my ‘diary’ slash vent slash learning area slash finding my voice slash processing that shit … place.

And I process a lot.

And I have processed a shit load more when it’s come to my father. Part of this, I recognise now, is because I am completely unfamiliar with the emotions attached to this scenario. So, it takes time to work all that through.

Dealing with my fathers personality is a completely different thing.

I’ve said it before – he is not a person I would Choose to hang out with or be friends with or even ‘get to know’. He’s everything I despise in a human. He’s racist, sexist, ignorant, manipulative and an all round know-it-all. Thing is, he’s not even very good at those things.

I’ve tried to listen and reason and listen some more. I’ve tried to be more patient than I usually am with his ‘type’. I’ve challenged and voiced my opinion, and reaped the consequences of that.

So I’ve been floating along, feeling somewhat violently enraged lately; knowing the root of that has probably got to do with my father and my disdain for being controlled – and then along comes fucking fathers day. I wrote a poem on my blog for that, but didn’t feel much better afterwards. So I posted the following on my FaceBook page; and felt a little better when other ‘friends’, who understood my twisted humour, sent me those little lol-ling affirmative emojis. I know – I’m lame – it doesn’t take much for Me to feel a little better about everything 😉

Note to whomever: Fathers Day was like, last weekend for Us.

Anyway … I moved on. I’ve blogged a few posts about being pissed off, but have generally tried to stick with the ‘reasons to smile’ and life is Ok routine.

And then this morning came.

And with it came this puppy:

Note: after the ‘hey’, my father used my name, rather than ‘sweetie’ or ‘sweetheart’ as he generally does when he’s fishing for something.

So to back up slightly; I lost my sister nearly a year ago. The angst between Me and my father has escalated since then. Mainly because he believes I should just do as I’m told.

Yeah right.

And you’ll Note, the passive aggressive use of force via ‘mokos’? Yeah thats some patriarchal, domestic violence kind of bullshit right there!

So while the coffee continued its brewing process and my pulse was starting to elevate slightly, I concocted this reply:

Please Note also-ly, that said father has not contacted Me or responded to my private messages since he left the country – again.

Also Note: the blanked out bits are the amount of times I tagged him into the post … to get him used to the concept … and to just piss him off really … all those notifications lol.

And thus began a chain of events that is still going.

My first ‘concern’ was my nieces (my fathers ‘mokos’ – grandchildren – these are my sisters kids). I also suspected that this use of ‘children’ and mokos routine was nothing more than a poor attempt at manipulation.

It needs to be said here: my father and his wife are both passive aggressives. However, he was a wife beater but got to old and frail so hung up his drinking mug and his beating gloves. She is the A Typical battered wife. She’s learnt how to control whats happening by lying and avoiding the truth – she pacifies him and placates him. The shit kicker is, she knows what she’s doing and why. She can quote the DV handbook. I don’t dislike her … but I won’t be manipulated by her either.

Anyway … back to it: I posted the following and tagged all my nieces and my other sister, into it. I figured it would do 1 of 2 things. Flush out the bullshit or blow up in my face. Gratefully it did the former.

My niece messaged and then we did a video call. I got to see her and her sister … and her babies ❤ So beautiful! And we caught up and there was tears and snot and more tears and more talking.

Turns out my father and his wife have been manipulating and guilt tripping and trying to control these girls since their mama passed. I saw these beautiful girls cry their precious hearts out because my father and his wife had controlled the funeral and gone against all the girls wishes for their mama.

And then the kicker.

These 2 leaches had asked the girls for part of the insurance money their mama had left them. I wrote a post about this awhile ago; but at this stage I only had half the information. It isn’t some random family members who were trying to get their hands on the loot – it was these 2! My fucking god … I was fuming! I also told them in no uncertain terms – to Not Give These Two A Cent! They’ve had their time and pissed and gambled away most of their money. They have money for multiple trips back and forth from Oz to here; they don’t need their ‘mokos’ money … they just want it. Grrr.

After they talked about this all sorts of lies they had told to varying parties, came tumbling out … yep, more tears lol.

But I felt an amazing relief. And I could see the relief on the girls faces and in their voices. I was so pleased to see them … and we’ll do this more now.

After I’d finished talking with them, the following popped up in my messenger, from my fathers wife.

While it may look like she gives a shit, she really just didn’t want her money grubbing secret to get out.

Don’t worry: I got your number!

All this took Me till about 230pm. And then I was shaking and exhausted.

I’ve stopped shaking; I’m still exhausted and pissed off … but you know what? That rage that was deep in my belly … yeah, well thats subsided. It feels like a bit of a light switch has come on.

And I’ll be dealing with my father very soon. When I’m ready. But very soon.

This doesn’t make Me feel anxious at all. Which is pleasantly strange 😉

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i had it all along <3

An interesting day so far … I forget that some of my most ‘profound’ moments come when I am alone. Yes, I am an introvert who likes my own company. I always have but have only just come to grips with that and started to embrace everything that that is for Me.

The partner was away for the day and night and this has given Me enough time to reflect and get to the gist of my gistnyness – Yes, that is one of my awesome made up words 😉

After pondering on the relationship between myself and my biological father, I woke with a bit of an unfolding of a revelation. On the third cup of coffee (good quality, heart warming coffee that is) whilst watching a ‘comfort’ movie – “Guardians of the Galaxy #2”, yes, I know … I’m sooo deep I stun my own self sometimes – that unfolding revelation completely unfolded and hit Me in the frontal lobe; or there abouts anyways.

I published a post the other day regarding “family”, and what that means to Me. I described in there, that family, for Me, is sometimes more than blood. What I didn’t expand on in this post, was who those are for Me.

I shall do that briefly now.

I grew up with my younger brother; as in we shared a mother and a house. Our experiences however, were completely different. I guess I resented him slightly for that over the years but have come to recognise that he has had his own hurdles and he, like Me, has found his own way of dealing with his shit. We were never ‘close’, as in, in each others pockets constantly; and I only recall ever having 1 argument with him, and he was pretty young then, maybe 9 or something. And in retrospect, he was just trying to assert his place in the world. And he has successfully managed that! He is an awesome father, musician, friend, lyricist, scholar and Man. And he is self-taught in all areas, which I admire and can relate to on all levels. Because we had different fathers, he had his own demons to exorcise with his father and their family of origin. And he has manoeuvred that beautifully. He has a wonderful relationship with his sisters and brothers and makes sure they are all connected to him and his son, so every one knows everyone. His father passed away a few years ago, but not before he had reconciled, as much as he could, the relationship between them. He was under no illusions though, about what he had missed out on; good and bad. And as the years have passed, he’s been able to let most of the angst of that go.

So while I came to admire and respect my brother, that closeness that I kinda sorta craved, that I now recognise came from not having a connection with my sisters, lingered for a good part of my early years.

What I had forgotten though (as I do, and have done, quite frequently), is that I made some extremely close and lasting friendships of the brotherly, sibling-ly kind, with other people throughout my life. One such friend was my brother, friend and drinking partner from hell. We had an extremely close bond. One that came to a close quite a few years ago, but never the less, it had existed; and I loved and depended on it. It held Me together through some extremely rough times. We would talk all night, drink all day, laugh at each others lame ass jokes, lend money, borrow money, argue, yell, disagree, agree … I became his daughters godmother when she was born, and was even at her birth. I suck at being a godmother though lol.

My gist is … while I hadn’t had a ‘close’ relationship with my biological brother … one that I somehow ‘thought’ we ‘should’ve’ had (which is bullshit by the way) … I didn’t miss out on what I needed. It only got added to by other people in other places.

With respect to my biological father; I realised whilst watching my comfort movie, that I had always had a ‘father’. One that loved Me; provided for Me; cared for Me; was interested in Me; was proud of Me; he tried, at all times, to protect Me; he connected with Me and my children. He was everything that a good father and dad should be. And he is my maternal grandfather ❤

While I have believed somewhere within my being, that I had somehow missed out by not having a biological father ‘take care’ of Me; I really hadn’t! I had actually had a better version / the best version of a father that anyone could ever ask for.

When he passed on, I held his hand and stroked his head while the light in his big beautiful blue eyes went out. I told him that he was a good man; a beautiful man; a successful man, and that We all loved him; that we would miss him but that he had done his job impeccably and we were eternally grateful. I was able to do that for the most important man in my life, because he had shown Me love my entire life.

That is the essence of a father. It is also the essence of a father – daughter relationship.

So, you see, I didn’t miss out at all. I had just forgotten – well semantics fucked up my feng shui for a little while – that what I had hoped for from my biological father, I had actually gotten in abundance, from my grandfather father. I love that that happened to Me. And I wouldn’t change that for all the feng shui in the world! I wouldn’t even change it to have a better relationship with my biological father.

And so my peace with it all, came in this recollection:

That I had the father I always craved for and wanted. I couldn’t have had anyone better. My biological father, is just that. And I don’t owe him anymore than that recognition; I don’t even owe him anger, because with his absence, someone greater and better and more lovely, was able to fill those shoes.

still trying to let it go …

It’s been an angst I can’t quite get my head, or heart around. I thought I had it sorted – well I did have it sorted really; but life has an unusual way of throwing curve balls at your torso and hitting you in the face.

Well, for Me it does.

The angst I speak of, is the ‘relationship’ with my father and my family.

Our relationship has been pretty much non-existent for nearly all of my life; and any remnants of, or shreds of some kind of functional familial type of relationship, have come with sweat, tears, begging and anger. About 10ish years ago, we came to a peaceable sort of amicable arrangement, whereby I messaged him on his birthday and at christmas, and he would do the same with Me.

Throughout the years I’ve gotten to know parts of my family: an Uncle mainly, and his family. We had issues with a cousin, namely the touchy feely type who believed it was his right to manipulate his way into my bed and when that didn’t work, he tried my eldest daughter. Although I spoke at length with my Uncle and Aunt, about their sons behaviour, it was a very obvious sore point from thereon in, and our visits with the family slowly wound down.

And then my Uncle died.

We didn’t have hardly anything to do with the family after that. At times, I’ve made attempts to extend some type of ‘olive branch’ and reconnect with them. But aside from FaceBook, we don’t hang out; we don’t chat or catch up. And if we do, it’s kind of awkward.

What has struck Me over the last few months has been the lack of connection with them all. That, like the relationship with my father, there is no strong connection. They don’t know Me, or my little family. But what strikes Me more; is that they have never made any type of effort – just like my father.

At first I was left wondering, why? And if I hadn’t made enough effort myself. That even with my sisters; did I make enough effort? Because for one of my sisters, it’s too late now.

I spoke with my other sister the other day. I haven’t really had much to do with her for years. I’ve been trying to keep in touch with her; get to know who she is and what she’s all about. During the latest conversation, she went into great detail about how she was a disappoint to my father and how she was still angry with her mother. She was trying to let it go and get on with her life – but she still blamed them for the things that had happened to her. She’s about 48 now.

It occurred to Me, that even from differing sides of the ocean, we had been striving for a relationship with a man that neither of us could connect with; but not for lack of trying. And we were both saying, in our own ways, that we had had enough of pleading and begging for something that hadn’t ever happened, and was probably never going to happen.

That leaves Me and my sister trying to forge some type of relationship, that my father and her mother, both took from all Us siblings when they decided to remove my sisters from my life; and remove themselves from my life.

Have I been embittered about it? Just a little a think.

I didn’t think I was … I thought I had it sorted and was just working out the details. But I’m pissed at him, for not giving a shit. I can’t understand how anyone can do that to a child; or how they can continue to do that when that child becomes an adult. I am pissed, he took my sisters away. I look at my own daughters; and even though they fight and get upset with each other; they have each other. They love each other; are bonded far beyond anything that could be experienced in a friendship; they get each other; have each others backs; they love their nieces and nephews and have their backs also. That is a sibling relationship that has come with years and years of contact, love and understanding.

And my father, for whatever reasons, took that away from all of Us sisters.

What a completely selfish and cunty thing to do.

And it’s this that I am still working out and trying to let go. I won’t beg for his attention or his love. That ship sailed along time ago. But I’d like to be able to be free of the anger / the angst, that I feel when I hear his name, or see him conversing with a cousin on Facebook. I’d like to not feel like throttling him when I hear him talk about him being in the country but not being able to visit Us. I’d like to not want to kick his ass when his apathy regarding his only living blood offspring, is apparent to everyone, but him.

Dear Dad

Since you don’t seem to be available at present, I decided to write to you instead.

I hope you’re doing alright back in Oz. Hope Aunty is good and your mokos are well.

Guess what? Moko #4 (thats your great moko) turned 3 the other day. She’s the youngest one. My youngest girls little girl. She’s a bright little button – so clever, so beautiful. She loves her bottles still and has a new ‘love’ – chocolate! Apple doesn’t fall from the family tree there! She had a birthday party with her papa and her papa’s family, last weekend. And during the week, her daycare gave her a cake and let her blow out the candles. She loves doing that. We bought her kinder surprises for her birthday present. While it sounds a bit lame – she loves watching YouTube videos where the kid opens up the big plastic eggs and theres kinder surprises or other little things in them. So we bought her 6 of them!

She’s a gorgeous kid. And her mama makes sure she knows all sides of her family: cousins, aunties, uncles, nannys and koros. Because their family is a bit like ours: Separated and spread out. But even at 3, she knows whose who.

Your eldest mokos eldest baby plays the drums. Did I tell you that? He’s 9 now and he’s been playing the drums since he exited the womb. He’s bloody good you know. He’s been having a hard time at school and thats knocked his confidence a bit; but we’re all working on it for him. He’s a dearly dearly loved little man!

Then theres the 2nd oldest. She’s just a law unto her own. She has her own groove and her own means to measure that groove. She loves dance and sport. Dance – like Me. And sport – like her mama. She has this uncanny ability of remembering who is who and who is related to who. She can remember the family tree, a bit like her mama does. She knows the different koros and where they all are. She remembers who stayed around for the main events and who ‘moved on’. She even remembers those she never met; who died long before she was born. She remembers the stories we tell her, and she re-tells them. She’s 8.

Lastly, the youngest of your eldest moko. She’s dynamic, and so so bright. She has a new friend, from her daycare. They both love chocolate apparently; and spend their day making ‘cakes’ with play dough and taking care of their ‘babies’. She has favourite dresses and shoes that she likes to wear every day. She watches out for her little cousin at daycare too. She doesn’t like the bus because she was in one when it crashed into the gate. I told her that the lady that was driving the bus was a douche and next time she saw her she could tell her off. She liked that. She’s 3 and turning 4 soon.

So why am I telling you all this?

Because you’ve never asked.

My beef with you has always been the same. And as I got older and got on with life, I slowly forgave you for not knowing a god dam thing about Me. And I made as much peace as I could, with the thought that your inability to insert yourself into my existence, was born out of your own insecurities – that it was nothing to do with Me.

But here we are, 45 years later, and you still have no ability to see anything other than You. You still can’t talk to Me, or insert yourself into my life without trying to take it over.

That aside …

I see you, on the 3rd generation, doing exactly the same thing. Even as a great koro, you know virtually nothing about your mokos. I’m unsure if you even know their names. And while I feel sad that they don’t speak with you, and haven’t seen you for a few years; I know they know who you are.

Are they missing out? Considering you are still very much in the land of living – the answer should be Yes.

But unfortunately they aren’t missing out on anything. Not because they don’t know – because you have extracted yourself from another generation.

Heads Up – You possibly don’t have another generation to wait before you get it.

They, on the other hand, are just starting their beautiful lives.

Here’s hoping you can get over yourself before they get too old to care. And here’s hoping you can get over yourself before you die.

Anyway – Take care.

Your daughter.

Me.

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miss moko #4s born day

For Me: Grandma, and all my ‘hiccups’ … yesterday was freaking exhausting and freaking awesome!!

I love being round my family … I love soaking up their goodness … seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter. It’s so good for the soul!

And yesterday was one of those days.

My girl had done so well with the food prep and decorations and was still pretty cool, calm and collected by the time we got there.

Moko #4 was owning it, as she does 😉

We laughed, and sang, and danced, and ate, and drank, and ate some more and sang some more. Moko #1 had prepared a little song and drum solo for his cousins birthday, so while we ate some more, he did his thing.

And what a beautiful thing that was! I was so proud of him 🙂

By the time we had rounded up the day I was even more exhausted than I had been at the beginning of the day lol. But it was a nice exhausted.

My only anxiety flutter came on our way to the mokos house, when we stopped at the garage to gas up the car. It just felt noisey and bright and that started the usual bullshit for Me … but I breathed deep, closed my eyes and blocked my ears for a couple of minutes and it seemed to subside slightly. Enough to last till the partner had done his thing and we were off again.

Whew.

I’m hoping for more of these days. I seem to be able to manage the things I enjoy … not so much the things I don’t want to do or have to fake.

Lesson learnt? : Don’t do anything I don’t want to do?

Sounds good to Me 🙂