imga0014I have avoided this page for some time mainly because I’m fearful of how little there is to say.

This blog started mainly because I felt I had spent too long looking at the glass half empty. I wanted to make a concerted effort to see how full it was instead. My writing here was an attempt to do so. Strangely, it has really helped. I say strange because I think I suprised myself. See, I used to be all about the half empty stuff.

I am a mother of two three boys 5, 2 1/2 and 5 months – A, S and L feature respectively. C is my slp  and my partner in the dirty crime of raising two three small boys.

I have always written. I have always read. I’m hoping to do more of both. I also teach writing and reading in the form of English literature which is kind of nice although very tiring when no-one sitting in front of you is remotely interested in how words sound and you’re trying to muster the energy of a crowd of aesthetically-void gnats.

Ummm….what else…..

I love coffee and red wine as much as each other.

I suffered PND with my second child which set me reeling a little. I seem to have been ok with my third which is a relief.

My family has a history of depression so it kind of sucks it didn’t skip me.

I don’t let it define me though as my father’s depression defined me for too many years.

I love jazz but know nothing about it.

My second child just still doesn’t sleep.

I used to be ambitious and want to be really successful.

Now I don’t care.

Now I just want to write. And find happiness and peace in the bits and pieces, in the every day rituals of family and home, in the rituals that I form just for myself.

I want my boys to be feminists. By that I mean, that I want them to appreciate the value of both sexes and be conscious of the inherent and disguised bits and pieces that seem to keep holding women back a bit. Hopefully, they can work, in their own little ways, to change this.

I live(d) in Sydney, then in Melbourne and now, back in Sydney. I (still) want to live elsewhere. It’s no right place to raise the boys.

My husband and I met one night and then met up again 7 years later, fell pregnant 10 months after that and married a year after we had A.

I used to date one of his best friends.

We’re all good pals though now.

I was engaged to a white goods magnate.

I spent too long with a tortured musician whom I clawed to spiritual death (he’s doing great now though).

I wish I could afford to buy more books.

I’d love to be smarter than I am.

I hate that my husband’s really smart but plays it cool.

I am very close to my mother and sister. But I’m glad I’ve got boys in the family.

I have an awesome bookclub made up for the smartest, hottest girls you could meet. It’s fun.

I wish I could write better than I do.

I wish I had more time to write.

I spent a lot of money on a camera recently to now have it sitting under my bed. I want to take more pictures of good stuff but sometimes days go by with little good stuff in them.

Childbirth (even though my second was CS) has really stuffed up my body.

I make friends more easily with older women. I’m not sure why.

I used to care about whether I was pretty or not and whether boys were checking me out. Couldn’t care less anymore. Glass half full I guess.

I’ll update this as I think of things.

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