Should I wake her up?
Maybe a stinky foot will do the job!
Maybe some jostlin' and hollerin'...
When all else fails, a HUG will do it!
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Picture Time!
This is my Mum, sleeping.
Should I wake her up?
Maybe a stinky foot will do the job!
Maybe some jostlin' and hollerin'...
When all else fails, a HUG will do it!
Should I wake her up?
Maybe a stinky foot will do the job!
Maybe some jostlin' and hollerin'...
When all else fails, a HUG will do it!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Me Post - Please Forgive the Indulgence
Normally I find peace at this time of night. The little man is sound asleep in his crib, work has wrapped up and everything is calm outside my window. But as I gaze up through low, robust clouds at a brilliant, winking blue canvas beyond, I struggle to settle a maelstrom within.
I worry that I will never find my happy niche, my footing in this new life. My son is healthy and I am humbly grateful for this fact. And yet every day I continue to feel the weight of ever-present awareness of those who still struggle and freshly stumble with similar setbacks. I feel a deep anger build at every new attack of the Big C on friends and family. I ache, watching others now wade through what is too freshly behind us.
Beyond that, I feel constant anxiety about succeeding on a professional level, for both my husband and myself. The reality of starting a new business and re-starting one that never did reach full-gear is daunting. Throughout my life, I’ve always treated my finances as though they were in a precarious state, but until now I had no idea what that truly meant.
I’ve always felt good about starting out with hand-me-downs, bare basics and meagre goodies. Almost as though we were building a good, honest life on a solid foundation. As though it would somehow last longer if we built with our own hard work.
This new stage of our lives, even just the recovery of our previous momentum, is brutally humbling. It is interesting to me how during a time when we’re scrambling to pay basic bills, the pull for the finer things has tripled in strength. I know the day will come when we no longer have to grind the last drop out of every penny, but hanging in there for the realisation is going to be a true test of fortitude.
Good thing I’m one stubborn egg.
I worry that I will never find my happy niche, my footing in this new life. My son is healthy and I am humbly grateful for this fact. And yet every day I continue to feel the weight of ever-present awareness of those who still struggle and freshly stumble with similar setbacks. I feel a deep anger build at every new attack of the Big C on friends and family. I ache, watching others now wade through what is too freshly behind us.
Beyond that, I feel constant anxiety about succeeding on a professional level, for both my husband and myself. The reality of starting a new business and re-starting one that never did reach full-gear is daunting. Throughout my life, I’ve always treated my finances as though they were in a precarious state, but until now I had no idea what that truly meant.
I’ve always felt good about starting out with hand-me-downs, bare basics and meagre goodies. Almost as though we were building a good, honest life on a solid foundation. As though it would somehow last longer if we built with our own hard work.
This new stage of our lives, even just the recovery of our previous momentum, is brutally humbling. It is interesting to me how during a time when we’re scrambling to pay basic bills, the pull for the finer things has tripled in strength. I know the day will come when we no longer have to grind the last drop out of every penny, but hanging in there for the realisation is going to be a true test of fortitude.
Good thing I’m one stubborn egg.
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