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My Son Has Been Kidnapped and Replaced With Some Kind of Alien.

by Lori Dwyer on May 2, 2013 · 7 comments

My son has been kidnapped and replaced with some kind of highly energised, relentlessly obnoxious alien being.

Which may sound overly dramatic, but on some days- like today- certainly feels true.

It came to my direct attention after a few weeks of school. My sweet little man had picked up some seriously annoying speech and habits. Mild mannered swearing. (Poo. What is it with the word ‘poo’?) Playground games. (“Chop!!” I yell after he slams his shoe down on his sisters bare foot. “What?” He is thoroughly confused. “That’s how you play Footsies!”). And just a general rough and tumble, testosterone-fueled harshness in his demeanor that’s never been there before.

“Maybe he’s just settling in”, I told myself. “Perhaps he is just tired.”

The school holidays- marked by ten long days of solid noise and almost continual confrontation- seemed to solidify this slightly obnoxious boy-ism as just another part of his evolving, kaleidoscope personality.

I know it’s probably natural, just a ‘boy thing’. Something that I wouldn’t even be aware of, I think, if his dad was still around. For the last two years, the Chop has had very few rough and tumble male influences in his life. That’s okay- it evidently hasn’t hurt him. It’s just that the emergence of this side of his personality has taken me by surprise, happening all at once rather than through the slow osmosis of continual exposure.

Curbing his behaviour, deciding and managing appropriate punishments… that’s become more difficult. How many times can I send him to this room, before it reaches a point where it simply begets more stress, more pent up energy resulting in more frustrated outbursts? (The answer to that would be, roughly, a few hundred before we move onto iPad and TV restrictions. Which work just as well.)

One day during the seemingly endless school holidays, my son was in complete bored five year old mode- tearing around the house, jumping on couches, harassing his sister with nonsensical rules to complicated make-believe games, and generally being, in the politest terminology I can think of, completely feral. There was no physical violence, no losing control, no real danger of hurting himself… nothing that required refraction beyond a verbal reprimand (“Stop… being… annoying!” was met with maniacal laughter and a HotWheels car zooming past my feet); and I was not, for reason of my own mental health and sanity, restricting TV privileges on a day like today.

So I, half-jokingly, instructed him to come outside and presented him with a rake, which I used to mark out a four foot long, two foot wide stretch of browned and fallen leaves in our backyard. “Rake these,” I told him. I expected him to thoroughly object, and I certainly wouldn’t have pushed it… the idea of forcing a five year old to rake leaves as punishment seems a little bit… Edwardian, maybe?

But he didn’t object. He took to his task, finished, and then resumed playing with the Bump. That frenzied edge of energy had been burnt off. Total win. It’s become the ultimate technique for those days when his energy is just too big for the house.

And thank the gods, school is back in session as of now. Next holidays, I’m planning to be significantly more prepared.

{ 7 comments }

Gastronomical Subterfuge‏

by Lori Dwyer on March 8, 2013 · 5 comments

My children are fussy, finicky eaters. The Chop especially. He takes after me. The Bump has inherited her father’s appetite (”Can’t talk, eating…”), but has still been sadly influenced by me. Both my kids will pick and pull at food. They often demand nothing but garlic bread for dinner. On the rare occasion I do get them to the something new, they gag to the– point I’m almost positive it’s involuntary.

The anti–food phenomenon is absolutely my fault; and the requisite parental guilt is gutting and hollow and flagellating. I’d always naively assumed that the process of teaching my kids to eat healthy would be one of those things that just ’happened’, as if by some kind of magical intervention. I think things like that a lot. My own mother made parenting look so easy.

Actually, to be completely honest, I’d always assumed that The Chop and The Bump would pick up their dad’s relatively healthy taste for all manner of different foods. Had he stuck around for long enough, they might have.

But it didn’t quite work out that way and, after the sky fell in, so did my attempts at cooking. My little darlings have developed the eating habits of their mother. Very, very bad ones. Or, as I like to say, we are ’simple eaters with limited tastes’. Because that makes it sound so much better.

Like most kids, mine would both eat nothing but junk food, given half the chance (and let’s face it, so would I). In order to maintain some control over what we munch on, I’ve taken to trying not to fill the kitchen cupboards with junk food. If all they will snack on is yoghurt, fruit, sultanas, cheese and biscuits…. then that is all I will buy.

In theory, that works wonderfully.

In reality, it’s never that easy. Some days it feels as though the array of foods my children consider ’acceptable for digestion’ is shrinking and waning– they eat less and less. Each week they strike another foodstuff off the list with declarations of “I don’t like that!” and “Neither do I!!”

I get the feeling God is laughing me and my foolish best–of-plans intentions. Home made baby food. Carefully prepared toddler snacks. And two kids who, some days, seem to get all the nourishment they need from a packet of popcorn, an orange and a tub of yoghurt.

Somewhere along the line– a year or so ago, I do believe– I gave up on the dream and illusion that was raw, unprocessed foods, and started buying anything that looked even reasonably healthy and appealing, in order to get the little darlings to eat something– anything– other than milk arrowroot biscuits

Most attempts have been utter failures.

The Bump and I spent an inordinate amount of time playing with these. They look just like they’re having a conversation, do they not?!

And I actually thought that the SPC Fruit Crush–Ups thingies I had been sent to review would end up the same as most everything else I’ve tried– that is, relegated to the occasional parcels of untouched food that I pass on to friends whose children are less fussy than mine.

Initial trials showed the Fruit Crush–Ups to be unsuccessful, led in opinion by the Chop (the Bump, in general, defers to his decisions. As little sisters do). I’m not sure how this conclusion was reached. The packets are pretty. It’s one handed, which is important for busy kidlets. and there are six– six– different flavours to choose from. No child can be that fussy.

Except mine.

Numerous attempts to beg, bribe and coerce the children into just trying the bleeping things, please, resulted in… Failure. I froze them. I chilled them. I decanted them into glasses with straws and bowls with spoons. (All of that refer to the SPC’s, obviously, not the kids). I even put the strawberry over ice cream, for pity’s sake.

Fruit Crush-Ups over ice cream. Like au naturel strawberry topping!

No, nay, nuh–uh, no way. Ugh.

“Please? Try it? Just once?” I beg the Chop, “it’s for my blog.”

That results in a wary, slightly worried look. He knows that ’mum’s blog’ is where lots of cool things– like PS3′s, road trips and Skylanders eventuate from. “You will still have your blog but, if I don’t try it, right Mummy?”

“Yes.” I sigh, “of course. But really, you should try them. They’re yummy. They’ve been named Product of the Year!” I am clutching at straws here and he knows it.

“No. Thanks.” At least he’s polite.

Eventually, I resort to total subterfuge and stealthily pack the Fruit Crush–Ups into lunch bags, for big school and daycare, hoping to sneak them into my kids subconscious via peer pressure and distraction. Unfortunately, the Chop is far too old for this kind of disillusionment, and the Crush–Up returned untouched.

But the Bump… she’s still just a baby, bless her, and it’s far too easy to play with her mind sometimes. At the daycare teachers insistence that the Fruit Crush-Ups were, in fact, ’way cool!’, the Bump not only tried it, but loved it. And has polished off half a box of them since then.

Total success.

***

If you’d like to broaden your kids foodstuff intake and add an extra half piece of fruit to their day in a stealthy squeezie pack that can be frozen as an ice pack for lunchboxes (killing both the snack and potential food poisoning birds with one frozen stone!); I’ve got a whole terms worth of SPC Fruit Crush–Ups to give away– that’s eight of each six flavours, RRP $1.29 each, all to the one lucky winner. To be that winner, tell me in 25 words or less–ish; what is the ultimate subterfuge you have pulled on your kids, to get them to eat what they don’t want to?

This comp is open to Aussie residents only. It opens now and closes midnight 22nd March. The winning answer will be whatever tickles my pickle and makes me smile at the time of drawing. Winners must have a valid email address, and will be contacted soon after the competition closes. Winners have 48 hours to respond to the winning email or the comp may be redrawn. My desicion is final and no bitching, whinging or discussion will be entered into.

This post has been sponsored by the awesome people at SPC.

Can’t see a form? Click here…

{ 5 comments }

Resisting The Temptation To Eat Your Children.

by Lori Dwyer on March 5, 2013 · 7 comments

I’d forgotten how completely, totally annoying three year old children can be. Especially when they’re your own children.

It’s been two years since my son was preschool-aged, all temper tantrums and dramatics and stamping feet and grumpy faces.

Of course, the Bump, my darling little fairy girl, didn’t let me keep that voluntary regressive amnesiac state for long. She is three years and five months old. (Good grief… three and a half. How and when did that happen, where has my tiny baby gone…?) and is absolutely making the most of her small-child-as-terrorist status.

Cute. Don’t let that fool you.

The bump is up, intermittently, at all hours of the night… simply because she can be. Her temper tantrums are still fabulously dramatic; and and she thinks nothing of having a full meltdown at any given time or place. Because of course, three year old’s are not governed by social expectations, nor such ridiculous concepts as time– they are, completely, the center of their own– and, in their own humble opinion, everyone else’s– universes.

To exasperate the general difficulty of just-being-that-age, the Bump is currently at that awesome stage where she no long really needs to take a nap during the day. But if she doesn’t sleep at lunchtime, she’s likely to pass out on the lounge somewhere between four and five pm, sleeps like a log for an hour or so; then refuse to go back to sleep until almost eleven o’clock at night.

Attempting to break the cycle in any way– namely, by withholding her late afternoon siesta– is met with resistance in the form of a screaming, possessed banshee child. Who is so over-tired that she still may not go to sleep again until many long, torturous hours after the sun goes down.

And anyway, as previously mentioned– just because she’s in bed does not mean she’ll stay there. Some nights I’m lucky if I get even two hours between shrill demands for milk or juice or more (godforsaken) dummies or because there are goddamn monsters in her room or because she wants a cuddle or something.

She is a chatterbox, my gorgeous little girl-child, all incandescent words tumbling over one another. And, like all children, she’s a question-asker. But questions from three year old’s, they differ and vary to those asked by older children, and often they make no sense at all. Quite possibly because preschoolers are rarely asking a question to receive an answer. They just like the sound of their own voice.

“Where are we going now, Mumma?”

“Home, darling.”

“Where are we going now, Mumma?”

“Home, darling.”

“Where are we going now, Mumma?”

“Home, Bump.”

“Where are we going now, Mumma?”

“HomeAndPleaseStopAskingMeSillyQuestions!!!”

Because, really, there is only so much my temper can take before it frays and breaks into a thousand pieces and irritation just overcomes me.

As I’m sure I’ve said at some point in the past– it’s extremely fortunate that children are so cute. Because, if they weren’t, their mothers may just eat them in the middle of the night, delirious with sleep deprivation and unable to control primal urges dictating that rest is essential for sanity and function and would somebody please shut this kid up??

***

On a slightly related note– the Bump is, actually, cute enough to eat in great big gulps, all pink dresses and sticky hands and fairy dancing. And I tell her so. “Bump, you are so cute– I am going to eat you all up!”

“No Mumma!” Says the Bump, full of three year old attitude, hand on hip and pout on face. “You can not eat me! I am not food. I am just people.”

The irrefutable, exasperating logic of small children. Really, who am I to argue with that?

{ 7 comments }

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Better Off Without You

by Lori Dwyer on January 30, 2012 · 77 comments

in Uncategorized

Every now and then I get an email from, or talk to, a bloke who tells me they empathise with my husband, that they’ve been in the state of mind he was in when everything went wrong. A lot of them have read the post I wrote about men and suicide.

Some of them say thank you, just reading that helped me. Others of them say that had they read my blog, the living, grieving aftermath of a suicide, they may have felt differently when they were considering it themselves. And there are those who say that reading my blog wouldn’t have made one iota of difference to how they felt or how they acted.

All valid reactions, and thank you, gentlemen, for your honesty and candor. I love feedback. I love correspondence. I love to know if and how this blog is effecting people. It helps…. death always has to has to have some kind of purpose. Meaning making- the human skill of giving death a deeper meaning than the stopping of the heart, the slow decomposition of cells- it’s what allows to move on, psychologically, from grief.

But I digress. I was getting to the part where I say that there is, I’ve noticed, a common theme amongst the men who write to me, those who have considered- or attempted- tot take their own lives before. Women say it too, but not as frequently as men… never as often as men.

“I really, honestly, thought my family and the people I knew would be better off without me.”

It scares the shit out of me, how often I’ve heard this. How deep the conviction behind it. How solid, and irrefutable and logical people tell me it is. Not just a misguided belief that no would miss them much at all… but a deep core belief that the rest of the world- their loved ones in particular- would really, truly be better off without them.

And I know, first hand and in terrifying technicolor, just how very wrong that notion is. Just over twelve months after my husband took his own life, and I see the spiraling, spider-webbing consequences of it every day.

And if you don’t believe me, I can prove it. The consequences stack up day after day after day… it’s written in the life stories of myself and my children and so many people I know and love.

I can tell you about it, show you the proof.

A mother, broken, waiting to die. A sister who has lost the only man she could ever depend on, so devastated by her loss she just can’t control her pain and lashes out at others cruelly and indiscriminately. A teenage girl who’s lost her anchor, her rock, her hero.

A woman, not even thirty, who’s had everything taken from her, who’s crippled with grief and pain and anxiety. A little girl who knows Santa better than Daddy. Who will never, ever know her father, who called her his princess. A little boy who, at four years old, understands more about death than any child should, and sometimes still curls up on the floor, with his father’s pillow, listening to his dad’s favorite CD, and he talks to me about how tall Daddy was, how high he could jump. He tells me, when I cry, that it’s OK, Daddy is watching me from Heaven and I can still talk to him.

And did reading that last paragraph break your heart? Good. Because that was my intention. If you ever think anyone would be better off without you, I want you to remember that image. And there’s more. You think that’s where it stops, with the people closest to you, those immediately involved with you? You are wrong.

I can show you a man who was already grieving, who’s lost the only bloke who understood him, the only other male he could talk to. I can show you a woman who has had her faith in God badly shaken, her belief in happiness undermined. I can show you a couple, together for twenty years, now divorcing- the result of compounded events, part of which was the poison that invaded their lives when mine fell apart.

I can show you a child who should have a godfather, two grooms who were missing their best man. I can show you an ambulance officer who will never look at things the same again. I can show you a psychologist who had all her perceptions realigned. I can show you a man who had to live through his own father’s suicide all over again.

I can show you two small children who miss going to daycare with their best mate, who don’t understand why he left to move far away. I can show you a boy who became a man in the week he painted the Purple from my life. I can show a woman who is haunted by CPR. I can show you men, a few of them, who seem to have lost their balls when they lost their friend.

I could go on, I could write this list forever… but it hurts, and I don’t need to. I’m sure you understand what I’m saying. You really, truly think that anyone in your life would be better of without you, after reading the list of pain my husband’s suicide has left behind? Can you see how far it reaches, how it didn’t just effect us, or his family, or even just his friends? It left a pattern, a long, long path of destruction, and after twelve months, it still has not stopped.

No one will be better off without you. You can even think to yourself “It will hurt now, but eventually, in a few months, they’ll be better off”. And I can tell you- you are wrong. No one will be better off without you, not now, not in the future, not ever.

Suicide, taking your own life, however it’s done or however minimal you think the harm may be- you are wrong.

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{ 77 comments… read them below or add one }

← Previous Comments

Lori @ RRSAHM October 1, 2012 at 1:44 pm: Oh anon… I wish you'd left me your email address. You are worth more than any money you can leave them.

I own a house, here, I'm lucky… but it's nothing compared to my son telling me he misses his dad. I'd sleep in a cardboard box, and I'm sure my kids would too, if it meant we got to have him back again.

They need you. YOU. Broken, in pain… any way you come. THEY NEED YOU.

Please email me. This doesn't have to be the end- life's a continium.

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Anonymous October 1, 2012 at 10:16 am: I lost my job over a year ago.
I'm losing my home right now.
I lost my health insurance last week.
I just got a notice that my unemployment is running out.

Through all of this over the last two years, I've been able to somehow keep making the child support payments to my remarried ex.

But now, with the unemployment running out, I will have reached a new low and be unable to financially support my own children.

I have turned my face to the sky on many ocasions, to ask the Universe what my path should be.

The signs are unmistakable. Every time I start to think that maybe, just maybe i should stick around, another one comes up and slaps me across the face and lets me know that I haven't been paying attention..and gets me to focus on where the Universe wants me to be.

So, yes – I DO beleive they'll be better off, even with the pain that you speak of. Because the pain of me staying and them watching me continue to fall into defeat and failure would be worse for all of us.

I love them all very much, even my ex. I love them too much to keep being THIS. They'll get the insurance and there'll be an end to this constant failure and defeat.

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Anonymous February 22, 2012 at 2:16 pm: I just wanted to add that the grief extends much further than their immediate loved ones. Last week I had the misfortune of hearing that the son of a former neighbour of my grandfathers committed suicide last month. My grandparents and his were very close and they shared a wire fence which had a gate between the two properties. We were the same age and played together often until his parents moved away when he was about ten. He left behind an estranged wife and two small children. I have been weepy and grieving all week, as though I could have done something to prevent it if I had only known he was going through a hard time. It's like an important formative part of my life has been wrenched away. I remember his cheeky smile, the way we used to listen to truckie's conversations on his Christmas gift of walkie talkies and especially interrupt the romantic ones. How bright he was. And he can never come back. I'm angry at him for doing it to his lovely parents and terribly upset at the same time.

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Anonymous February 6, 2012 at 11:56 pm: Sorry, but this 'view' isnt helping anyone in the mindset being discussed.. Its a view of those looking upon others in the mindset being discussed… Even reading ALL previous comments, its showing that its an outside opinion by people who dont understand what impact such thoughts have on a person. Im not saying I dont afree with ur message, but its almost like a anti drug talk by someone whos never touched drugs and have no idea of what goes on inside the effected persons body and mind. Is it selfish to take ur own life..yes…but in your mind, its far from it, and ur not wrong.. If u feel this way, I strongly suggest seeking out a psychologist, it works, they help u get into ur own mind and take control, counsellors are for kids and sorry if u are one, but its so different so if you have only been to a counsellor, get urself to a psychologist before taking any action on what you may be thinking. I get it. Ive been there. I wish I could help more people to get themselves out of the dark places the world offers, and when u get diagnosed wirh mental illness, get two opinions, and with medication get head space help and work yourself out of it. It doesn't have to be a lifetime illness no mater what they say, u do have the power to take control of mind, grab it by the balls and fight for life. You Are NOT ALONE..

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Lisa Wood February 3, 2012 at 9:52 pm: Lori – there are no words. Thanking you for being strong enough to share your pain and your journey. May this save someone. xxx

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Anonymous February 3, 2012 at 7:50 pm: Sorry for your loss. I understand how people feel when they try to take their own lives.I have suffered depression for years. I hope you are able to get into a happier place soon.

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ruddygood February 2, 2012 at 9:04 pm: Lori, you save lives every time you write, I'm sure of it. x

Please, people – heed her words. Listen to all these people sharing their own experiences with depression, suicide and loss.

Your family, your children, your friends; they don't feel *relief* when you're gone. Don't use them as an excuse. Seek help.

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NozomiBlackbird January 31, 2012 at 5:33 pm: Lori, thank you for your words. I remember very clearly and still hold dear an old photo from my sophomore homecoming dance; I was on my way to a bottle of pills when I passed the same photo I passed everyday, and seeing the faces of my dearest friends saved my life. As much pain as I was in and as much as I truly believed their lives would be better for not carrying my burdens I realized could never put them through the pain of having to mourn me, however much I believed I didn't deserve their grief. 10 years later I am in a much better place in every way thanks to those wonderful girls whom I still talk to on at least a weekly basis, and that old photo still has a place of honor where I can see it every day and remember how they saved me, time and again.

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Anonymous January 31, 2012 at 10:32 am: I've had these very thoughts. This is all very rational to those who are sound of mind. Sadly there is nothing rational about someone crippled with depression.

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Megs January 31, 2012 at 9:53 am: Lori, I have only just started following your blog and I had NO IDEA about your past. To say that my heart is broken for you is an understatement; you're such a strong woman for being able to talk about it so openly.

xx

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In Real Life January 31, 2012 at 5:34 am: That is such a powerful post, Lori. Thank you for writing it.

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Nicky Singh January 31, 2012 at 12:58 am: Hi Lori, Your right, no one would be better off without you! Great post, very well written.

Nicky Singh

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Kellie January 30, 2012 at 11:07 pm: Oh Lori. So well written. The tears are falling right now. I hope it's heard loud and clear. xx

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BUSH BABE January 30, 2012 at 11:01 pm: You think you know. I thought I knew. I have no idea, but I sure as hell am sharing this post in every way I know how.

Many hugs to you – not sure it will help you (can't hurt, right?) but sure makes me feel a bit better.

BB
(Jeanie's sister, above).

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jessica January 30, 2012 at 10:53 pm: I too am sorry to hear of your heartache and your loss. Thank you for sharing something so personal and close to your heart. You're truly amazing and I pray you see better days with your precious children, friends and family. xJess

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jeanie January 30, 2012 at 10:39 pm: I am so sorry for your loss – I too lost my daughter's father to suicide, although he probably thought that he was saving the world with his actions(he was schizophrenic), so at least (?) I had the ability to answer his mother and sister and daughter and brothers and mates with information about his illness they didn't want to acknowledge while he lived.

Depression is a horrible illness, it truly sucks at your soul and tells you lies.

My wish is for people to realise that Mental Illness isn't about "putting on a happy face" or just putting your mind to it, but chemical imbalances that can be assisted in rebalancing and that there IS help out there (not just good mates, but great therapists) to get techniques to recognise triggers and claw your way back to what "normal" people would consider base camp.

Best luck to you and your family in your journey forward.

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Maxabella January 30, 2012 at 10:21 pm: Oh Lori. So much pain. x

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Anna @ green tea n toast January 30, 2012 at 10:06 pm: Hi Lori,
I only came across your blog recently and after reading a few past posts I just want to say that I'm sorry for what happened, that I'm glad you seem to be in a happy place at the moment and that your blog seems to be striking a chord with a lot of people.
Years ago back in the UK I worked for a fantastic child bereavement charity called Winston's Wish (check it out – they do amazing work), who among other things run specific grief camps for children of parents who committed suicide. They were powerful, emotionally charged weekends but the outcomes were amazing. As part of the training I found it really interesting to learn that men were much more likely to kill themselves than women. Scary stuff seeing as they are the ones less likely to talk about their feelings. Hopefully with people like you getting the message out there it will make some men stop and think. Thanks for sharing your world. xx

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Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 9:48 pm: Lori – this month alone, three people I know have attempted suicide. Two were successful. Those two left behind grieving partners and children. The survivor is my 14 year old niece. I am devastated. Your post is inspiring. I'll be forwarding… xxx

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Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 9:35 pm: Unless you have faced thoughts of suicide, I don't think you can possibly understand from that person's point of view. Of course it makes no sense to those left behind. But in addition to "people would be better off without me" people with suicidal thoughts also think "I would be better off without the pain and anguish in my life". It's when the pain is so utterly unbearable that those thoughts creep in.

I don't know what the answer is. But I imagine those you help aren't the ones who have really really considered suicide or even attempted it. I have. When the pain was just too much for me to bare any more and it felt like the only way out.

You are an amazing woman Lori and I really do feel for you. I lost a friend to suicide and know that it is hard to be left behind. But it doesn't stop me from considering taking my own life when things are really that unbearable.

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Renee | About a Bugg January 30, 2012 at 8:48 pm: Thank you Lori. Your raw honesty, while no doubt extremely painful, will hopefully help others.

Even if it just helps one.

xx

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Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 8:18 pm: How do you have the strength to even get these words out and share these feelings? My brother committed suicide 3 and a half years ago and I am still hiding from the pain and too afraid to even think about him. You are such an amazing, strong woman for sharing this.

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Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 8:07 pm: Lori,thank you.Like several of your commenters,I have endured childhood abuse from age 3 yrs.Bullying at work and being blamed for things going wrong in my family's lives.Depression is a regular visitor,and despite knowing logically that I am loveable and cherished,there lies in that tiny core of me the knowledge that I am vile,useless and undeserving of any emotion.I can hide it ,disguise it,deny it,but it is still there.The only things that prevent suicide is, who would look after my animals,and grandchildren,For them I still exist.

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Amy January 30, 2012 at 8:00 pm: Thank you for writing this Lori.

I can only imagine how hard it would have been to get these words out.

x

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Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 7:50 pm: Please read Deb's poignant comment above. While you may see the anguish your unhappiness is causing those who LOVE you (Why else do they stick around?), your taking your own life will end your own pain but will be the start of their pain-an unending pain as those who have lost loved ones many years ago have attested to in the above comments.

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Anonymous January 30, 2012 at 6:45 pm: They may be stressed and in pain, but they continue to deal with you because they care. My sister's suicide attempts pissed me off big time because I couldn't see the sense in them and I felt powerless in helping her get well. Because I love her. She is now properly diagnosed (bipolar) and such a special person to me and my kids. Depression and bipolar close the window on hope, but it is still out there, you just need to find a way to prize open the window

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Melissa January 30, 2012 at 6:45 pm: "It will hurt now, but eventually, in a few months, they'll be better off"

Is exactly what I thought. Until Tony died.

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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Another New House In Paradise….

Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Running Away Again.

Flog Yo Blog Black Friday – RRSAHM

Flog Yo Blog Black Friday

by Lori Dwyer on August 13, 2010 · 7 comments

Ooooh,

Welcome to the creepy, cobweb infested RRSAHM! Oh yes, it’s Friday the Thirteenth… doo doo doo doo… *insert creepy music here*

As we know, I was having a horror movie of my own last week. I’m still in the recovery stages and still in some pain. The embarrassment is only just beginning to ease.

Anyway.

I do apoligise that I did not get around to everyone’s blogs. And I forgot to open the linky list as a blog hop- thank you to the MadMother for letting me know. Shame, shame, shame. A bad Flogging hostess. Do forgive me.

I will try to do better this week, I promise. But hey, if I don’t get there and leave a comment, don’t hate me. I am there in spirit. It’s just that the amount of time I’m able to actually sit down on my derriere is still limited. I’m sure you understand.

OK, let’s get to business. Here’s the down low if you wanna join in. And here is The Rules. The most important one is Number 5. Do it. Don’t make me send my mummified brain eating blog zombie after you.

The New Rules (which are kinda almost pretty much the same as the Old Rules)

Follow my blog. (*ahem* *cough* My Blog. Me me me. Me me. You get the picture.)
Grab B‘s bubbly button- she is the FYBF inventor extraordinaire- and post it on your sidebar.
Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your linked post (not your homepage) below.
Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post.
Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
A new and fresh link list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week.
And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).

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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }

katepickle August 13, 2010 at 5:43 pm: I had to crank up IE to be able to comment but it's so worth it! Thanks for a good friday flogging!

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Imperfectly Me August 13, 2010 at 2:18 pm: I think Black Friday is entirely appropriate given your recent ailments (that includes your cyber stalker!). Love Fridays!

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MultipleMum August 13, 2010 at 1:21 pm: I hope the light at the end of the tunnel is nigh? Chin up. More Nurofen! I'm flogging again (what's a gal to do?)

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Rachel August 13, 2010 at 1:13 pm: Thanks for the blog hop, I'm following you now. Have a great weekend!

http://frugalformyfriends.blogspot.com

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Wanderlust August 13, 2010 at 8:50 am: Happy Friday the 13th sweetie. I'm not afraid, it can only be better than yesterday. xx

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Maxabella August 13, 2010 at 8:33 am: Oh, Lori. Can you ever recover from the horrors of the week? I am still in a bit of pain on your behalf…

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Brenda August 13, 2010 at 8:10 am: Good Morning, punkin'. Am flogging today! Yays!

PS. Hope the h thing is healing.;)

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Aw, for me? You shouldn't have… – RRSAHM

Aw, for me? You shouldn’t have…

by Lori Dwyer on June 10, 2010 · 5 comments

It’s award time readle deedles. Accepting these awards today, on behalf of Lori, will be her best friend and constant companion- Chronic Procrastination Woman!!

Hi, it’s Chronic Procrastination Woman here. My pal Lori is unable to accept these awards today because she is simply too embarrassed at her own ineptitude and the way her feeble attempts to thwart my mighty powers have been useless. Haha!

You see, Lori was awarded some of these awards over a time frame of up to a month ago. I took them and hid them away in the dark cobweb-by basement of her brain, behind the hot water system. And every time she went to write her acceptance post, I reminded her that there were links to be done and she would actually have to think about stuff and that might hurt her head so why doesn’t she just go and have a cigarette instead?

Honestly, this Earthling is no match for my incredible Powers of Procrastination!!

Thanks very much for that, Chronic Procrastination Woman (who is apparently an alien of some kind, I’m not sure how that happened), that’s enough of that stupidity. The awards I have been neglectful of collecting are as follows….

The Life is Good award from the lovely Diminishing Lucy.

The Happy 101 Award from the awesomeness but missing in action Kellyansapana.

The Mind Blowing Blog award from the super sweet Thea at Do I Really Wanna Blog?

And the You Don’t Say? Super Commenter award from my Yankee counterpart, Miss Lori at Tiny Little Revervies. If you are not Following her, you should be. Why? ~~Because I said so~~. Because she is way funny.

Now, obviously, all these awards come with their own little thingie doovies that you should do when you accept them. Lists and chants and rituals and what not. I’m not going to all of them because that would get boring. I’m going to choose just one. And I choose…. the questions Yankee Lori set with the You Don’t Say award. Questions and answers as follows, groovers.

1. If you could have only one more meal, ever, what would it be?

Italian. Lasagna, bruschetta, that kinda thing.

2. If you could go anywhere in the world for a weeks vacation, where would you go?

Somewhere warm and tropical. Tahiti, maybe.

3. If reincarnation were true, who or what would you come back as?

Someone with plenty of money. Paris Hilton. Erm..no… maybe not.

4. What do you want for your birthday?

An iPhone. Or iPad. Anything thing with i, really. Even an iPed.

5. Who was your first kiss and how old were you? (not counting family – well, unless you were 13 and it was your cousin – that counts)

I was about 13 and his name was Robert. He wasn’t my cousin. That was an on the cheek one. For my first real kiss, see my post about love from yesterday.

6. What’s your all time favorite movie?

Drop Dead Gorgeous.

7. If you could be any of the Disney princesses or heroines, which one would you be and why? (What? I’m tryin to make this interesting!)

Lizzie McGuire. Does she count? She’s on the Disney channel. I like her, she’s cute.

8. If you could have lived your life in another time, which time period would you pick?

The Seventies. I wanna go to Woodstock. Big hippy that I am.

9. If you could change anything in your life, what would it be?

Not a thing. It hasn’t been perfect, but it’s what got me to here. Maybe that kiss with Robert. No, I’m joking.

10. What’s one thing that you would like to see or do before you die?

I actually have a post a brewing about this. I wrote a list of things I wanted to do in my lifetime when I was twenty. I’ve crossed of all but one. I’ll leave you in suspense for what that one thing is…

Now, for some award recipients. I’m going to be a tight arse today and distribute them to one blog each.

The Life is Good award goes to one of my new blog finds- All Work and No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something. Because she just cracks me up. And I love a Simpsons quote.

The Happy 101 award goes to Lulu at Cherry Blossom Adventures, another one of my new bloggy finds. Because she has a very cool blog over there and she makes me smile- neat freak!

The Mind Blowing Blog Award goes to the funky Holly at Good Golly Miss Holly, my fellow Westie chick.

And finally, the You Don’t Say Super Commenter Award goes to the vejazzled Katie at No Missed Oppurtunities. Who is mega-ly funny. She must be, because she guest posted at MummyTime, and only reeeeeeally funny people get to do that. And …. erm… cause she leaves me lots of comments. And that’s what this one is for. OK? OK.

Alrighty. Recipients, what I want you to do is accept your award and pass it on to one or two or six or eight or however many blogs you like, in a timely fashi
on (stay back, Chronic Procrastination Woman!) and answer me the following questions…..

When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?
What is your most most prized material possession?
Do you have an iGadgetOfSomeDescription? If so, do you realise how very lucky you are?
What’s your poison- warm bath or hot shower?
What’s the best decision you ever made?

And that’ll do, I think. Congratulations, lady bloggers! Huzzah!

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{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }

lori June 11, 2010 at 3:27 pm: You crack me up. Lizzie macGuire? Really? I would have pegged you as an Ariel (the little mermaid) fan. You are just full of surprises, you are.

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Katie June 11, 2010 at 9:24 am: So yesterday, I had this UBER witty comment. It was about 7 paragraphs long and I typed it all on the itty bitty keys of my completely worthless phone (risk taker that I am) only for flippin' blogger not be able to process my comment. FRICKIN' WHAT??? I just got a COMMENT AWARD and I can't comment.Nice.
Needless to say my swearing like a sailor did not help blogger post the comment.
So, thank you for the super rad award. I lovzies. You rock.

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Kimberly June 10, 2010 at 9:34 pm: You like me?! You really like me…LOL!! thank you so much Lori! You really made my day!!
You crack me up too you silly hippie

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Thea June 10, 2010 at 8:47 pm: Yay, you got there in the end. Don't you feel better now….until you get your next swag of awards anyhow!

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Madmother June 10, 2010 at 12:47 pm: Can I borrow your best friend for my blog? God knows how many awards I have yet to grab and pass on…

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Page not found

You 404’d it. Gnarly, dude.

Surfin’ ain’t easy, and right now, you’re lost at sea. But don’t worry; simply pick an option from the list below, and you’ll be back out riding the waves of the Internet in no time.

Hit the “back” button on your browser. It’s perfect for situations like this!
Head on over to the home page.
Punt.

Stop being such a princess and get on the bloody train! – RRSAHM

Stop being such a princess and get on the bloody train!

by Lori Dwyer on February 14, 2010 · 2 comments

Howdy all,

Well, it’s day three of the Single Mummy Experiment. We’re doing ok. Our stats look like this.

Day Three.
Frazzle Meter Reading : Low.
Exhaustion Meter Reading: Catastrophic
Sexual Frustration Meter Reading: Moderate to High (exasperated by Valentines Day)
Cigarettes Smoked: Not as many as yesterday.
Times shouted: Still nil.

But, I’ve been having a dilemma, you see. The hospital the Man is in is a half hour drive away, and my little Bump hates car. The Chop was the same at this age.. Any car trip trip longer than 15 minutes results in hysterical screaming. What to do, what to do? I did what i do in complex situations- I consulted my mummy (that’s her there, in the piccie). She’s a pretty cool chick, my mum. Nothing if not down to Earth and honest. And her response was- “Stop being such a princess and get on the bloody train!”.

Top idea Mum. The Chop was in heaven, he LOVES trains. The Bump was happy to fang out in her pram and be rocked of to sleep. And even my old nemesis CityRail decided to cooperate- the trains were running on time (hallelujah,I hear the Sydney locals say). It was pouring rain and none of us cared. Three very happy campers.

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{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }

…Mrs.P! February 16, 2010 at 2:04 pm: Nice work. Can't believe the train was on time though! Must have been a miracle!

By the way, I've given you an award on my blog…
http://astudyincontradictions.blogspot.com/2010/02/blog-award-2-honest-scrap.html

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Kellyansapansa February 14, 2010 at 4:54 pm: Your Mum sounds like a very wise woman!

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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Washed Away.

The Active Avoidance of Resenting My Kids – RRSAHM

The Active Avoidance of Resenting My Kids

by Lori Dwyer on December 9, 2011 · 14 comments

Most days, the things that pulls at the insides and dents my self esteem is the simple frustration of self flagellating mother guilt.

Out of all the things in this situation that hurt, all of them that are nasty and horrid, that may be the worst… the lingering knowledge that this has changed me, turned me into a mother I never wanted to be.

I have to actively work to not resent my children, I must keep an eye on my expectations of them, of me, of how this whole relationship is supposed to work.

Occasionally- when I’m sick, or busy, or grief is hitting me harder than usual; I forget to keep myself in check, forget to attend to my thoughts. And a childish, selfish mother creature comes crawling out of a dark hole in my chest to eat at the tolerance that’s left in my heart.

On days like these- today, if I’m honest, being one, the concessions we normally give to small children for atrocious behaviors spawned from tiredness, hunger, or the own sickness or pain; all those considerations leave me and I find myself expecting my little ones to act more like grown ups, to help me more, to be more independent. I feel resentment sneaking up like hot acid heartburn as I tend to the every need of two small people who, in return, screech at each other the moment I leave the room, or scream at me for hours over a disagreement.

It’s the little things that grate at me.. I suppose they do all mothers, all parents. The way I cannot have my bed to myself, my son seems to believe it’s his right to be there, as much as I need my space; the way my insistent, determined daughter is perfectly capable of navigating our back stairs when she believes no one is watching, but is incapable of anything but a teary, desperate temper tantrum when I’m in sight; the hour long screaming marathons of my son over just about anything- something as simple as putting his own shoes on- that leave both of us visibly distressed and me quite often feeling as though I’m quite literally on the verge of a nervous breakdown- something I’ve loudly sobbed affirmation to, alone, in my backyard.

I know, I know, I know…. all the usual kid stuff. They just do that. It’s relatively normal behavior. Rationally, I know all this and more.

Emotionally, on the days that are not so great… it doesn’t feel that way. That horrible, selfish mother creature, she tells me that they are doing this on purpose, that they are going out of their way to make my life more difficult.

I used to be a different kind of mother, once upon a time. I was the kind of mother who took my kids out every day, to the shops or the playground or just somewhere, anywhere. I was the kind of mum who was on time to everything, who had things organised, who participated.

These days, I’m more than happy to spend the day at home, working in my garden, writing, playing with the kids. My son, who once begin every day with the question “Where are we going today?” is still slowly getting used to it. We’re always running late, and I float on the fringes these days… the social chit chatter of playgroup of daycare is too much for me, and we often leave early too.

My Bump, she is a gorgeous little drama queen, int he way only a two year old fairy princess can be. My Chop… they say boys begin to push out testosterone in large amounts at the age of four. I’m thinking this explains the way everything is suddenly a competition that he’s obsessed with winning, that instead of having tea parties with his sister’s teddy bears they are now trying to kill each other. I’m wondering if it accounts for a lot of his protectiveness toward his sister and I, but really, it could just be the way things are.

The enormity of parenting, all by myself, terrifies me so much that sometimes the only thing I can do is close my eyes tight and keep going forward. Because there is no way to stop.

It used to seem much easier, with another parent to help take up the slack. My lack of energy and playfulness was substituted by Tony’s exuberance, him using play with the kids to wind down after a long day. Tony gave our kids a whole different perspective on life- as a dad, as a bloke.

And honestly, there were so many days when that mother-guilt voice of ‘I haven’t done enough with them today’ would kick in, only to be balmed by the knowledge that soon my husband would home, and would pick up the slack in fun, in attention, in energy… give our little ones those vital emotion resources that I was lacking some days.

I still am lacking those resources, even more so now, in The After. The only difference is there is no one to take up the slack. My parenting efforts are solitary. The only silver lining is that they are judged by no one but me.

I console myself, as we do, all mothers in all situations, with “I am doing the best I can.”

It sounds like such a cop out, to say that, or even to say “I’m just surviving”, but it’s the only truth I have. A good excuse which, as FrogPondsRock says, makes for a very good reason.

Sometimes I yell, and- shamefully- I’ve even been know to smack. Sometimes my children see me cry. Sometimes I feel, and work frenetically against, the resentment of them.

All of these things are new things.

I’m not the kind of mother I used to be… I’m working on still being a good one.

I comfort myself with the knowledge that I’m simply not the same type of person I used to be, either.

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{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }

Hope’s Mama December 11, 2011 at 9:23 am: Though I haven't lost a husband, I have lost a child and I know grief eats away at my ability to be a sane and rational mother some days. We too stay home a lot and on the days when it all almost gets too much and I yell and scream more than I should, the guilt almost destroys me the next day. It was my first baby who died, so I never got to parent without the dark cloud of grief hanging over my head, but I am sure I would have been a much different mother had she lived, the kind of mother you were before Tony died.
Grief really does fuck with every aspect of your life.
Love to you, Lori. I don't comment as often as I should.
xo

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Eccentricess December 10, 2011 at 7:55 pm: Lori, your post makes me think of all the little advances that made Mamahood easier for me, like being allowed to go to the toilet without company. They came about because I had someone else to restrain her and explain over and over again, for months before it sank in, that toilet time is Mama's alone time.
Just being a single Mum makes it twice as hard to get these little advances. Let alone all the other stresses.

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Anonymous December 10, 2011 at 2:43 pm: Seems you meet way more than the minimum needs your kids have. Shelter, nourishment, safety, love and more.

You definitely are not the same person you started out to be. All 3 of you deal with intense emotions losing Tony, with the several moves, with reconfiguring the family.

You are so much stronger than you were, not simply out of necessity, but also from your fortitude, your ability (maybe determination) to keep moving forward.

If it was "normal" before, it is not "normal" now, you are in crisis mode and will be until you aren't. You would have changed and grown if Tony hadn't died, but you can't know where that road would have gone. As other posters have said, all moms feel guilt, seems part of the definition.

Keep doing what you are doing. I don't see how anyone could do better.

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Sarah December 10, 2011 at 11:07 am: I'm with ya chook. It's an active avoidance everyday here as well while I'm off my anxiety meds for the pregnancy.

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Melissa December 10, 2011 at 6:52 am: Oh dear Lori. I do NOT know how single parents manage. Even just one day solo is exhausting for me. Children are amazingly resourceful and although their life will be influenced by the tragic loss of Tony, your amazing strength, courage and love will have an even more profound influence. Mothers always obsess about our bad moments – we neglect to notice the hundreds of moments throughout the day where we are a "good" mother. We are present, we change diapers, we make lunch, we hug, we kiss boo-boos… we do it all. You do it all. You are awesome. Just keep on, keeping on.

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Anonymous December 10, 2011 at 4:31 am: Good news is, the older they get, the easier it all is- they will play together peacefully soon. And yes all that they are doing is normal. And you can only take so much, being what you have been through. You are doing great, there is no right way, and we all lose our shit sometimes. Time out is just as important for mommy as it is for the kids. You are doing great!! Lisa

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Miss Pink December 9, 2011 at 6:59 pm: Maybe you aren't the parent you used to be, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing.
You have changed, so have the kids, and of course, so has your relationship with them. It doesn't mean it's a negative change.
Do you think the type of parent you were in the before would really work with them now? Especially Chop? I think you are what they need, and sometimes that may not be your idea of perfect, but it is enough. At the end of the day they're still alive so it's "enough".

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Lydia La La December 9, 2011 at 12:28 pm: Dear Little Lori,
I know you are not asking for advice…..
When you go into a relationship, fall in love, have babies there is ALWAYS the possibility that one of you or the children may die.
Heart attack, cancer, car accident, murder, suicide. The list is long.
You know you may have to cope alone but unless it happens to you, there is no way our imagination can take us to the depths we actually sink to. Family close by helps, friends and neighbors. Just ask… most people will give you a free hour and that can make a world of difference. Please…. don't be too proud to ask for help. I know I would hate it if someone could have asked me for help and didn't because of pride. I don't mean the clean the house type of help. Just sit in the backyard with the children type of help.
Your babies miss their Dad. They are far too young to understand so they retaliate in the way that will get your attention any way they can. Some times the only way you can get 'time out' is to get up an hour or so earlier. It worked for me. Many good vibes coming your way. Feel free not to publish this comment if it is way out of line.

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Anonymous December 9, 2011 at 11:32 am: Oh, God Lori, your last two posts have left me clutching my chest. I can feel every emotion.
I don't know what to say.
I don't know what I can do.
But I know that 'devil mum' personally, except I had someone to throw them at at the end of the day and now I just feel guilty that you don't.
Hang on. Please hang on.
Mrs. C

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Kelloggsville December 9, 2011 at 9:39 am: Single mumming is the single most hardest thing I ever did and I had an ex available to come and help out but there are those times when alone it just really really really sucks. Parenting is a 'long haul' thing. You can't be, won't be great at it all the while, every day or on some days 'at all' but over time you will churn out some pretty cool little people. 10 years after the 'put your shoes on yourself' arguments have ended I'm still have flash back guilt pangs! I know your pain and circumstances are so very hard (and very removed from anything I could possibly relate to) but please don't try to do it alone force yourself into mums and tots, playgroups or just library mornings and sign them up for some things they will be able to attend without you – you have to have sanity time….it'll be the only thing that keeps you sane xxxx

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Ozziethriftmumma December 9, 2011 at 9:34 am: Lori all you can strive to do in life, is try our best.
Be it as a mother, friend, daughter or whatever else you put your mind to.
As parents we all go through the resenting phase/s, especially when they just wont stop fighting or we are exhausted.We all make mistakes.

It is only human. You are only human…remember that.

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Vicky December 9, 2011 at 9:27 am: Being a single mumma – however you arrived at that place – is hard fucking work. There are days when I think shall I just open a vein and you can suck the life blood out of my literally!?!?

The only time there is respite is if they are having a sleep over at friends – and even then, I find it hard to take off the mother hat completely – even though I desperately need to. My subconciousness is connected to them by an invisible thread… is that what the umbilical cord turns into once its cut? an invisible thread that no-one else sees, but you feel intensely?

I'm not the mother I wanted to be either. But I know that I'm absolutely a better mother then the one I was born to. I guess I will just have to be happy with that.

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Penny December 9, 2011 at 8:40 am: Don't beat yourself up about it. Do what you can. Not what you can't.

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Eccles December 9, 2011 at 5:31 pm: Oh hun, single parents, parents with partners, gay parents, grand parents… parents, ALL feel guilt & resentment at some stage. I was told by my (ummm – the lady you take babies to who weigh & measure them & make sure your doing "your job" as a new mum. My mind has gone lol)… you know what I mean. Anyway, she told me that my newborn daughter would "survive in spite of me". Not with me, not because of me, but in SPITE of me. Then my DH left. Great!! It was ALL my fault because I wasn't the 1950's mother figure he expected. I digress??!! I would phone my mum in tears because my DD was unwell/asleep/throwing a tantrum & I couldn't get out to go shopping or do something that I'd been planning on doing – I so resented my DD. I still, 23+ years later, suffer guilt. Did I play enough with my kids, did I teach them to be independant enough, have I taught them life skills for when they leave home, have I taught them how to shop, save money, budget, be strong when faced with minor issues & major ones?? We all second guess ourselves as parents & as my Dad said to me a few weeks ago, "I tried my best". Babies & children are little for such a fleeting time. It doesn't matter if the house isn't majorly tidy or that there is a pile of washing to be sorted & put away. Spend time with your kids, as much as you can. Take them to the park, sing with them, play with them, read with them. Make folding the washing a game with them. Life is long, but it goes so damn fast. Chop might be starting kindy next year or maybe going into prep. Your kids are little people, but they are still babies. They will test your patience & push your buttons & for the most part, they don't realise that's what they're doing. They love you & they compete for your attention. And for now, you're IT.
So my dear, we all have to suck it up, & think outside the box. I wish I'd done that with my Dad years ago.

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Kidspot Ford Territory Top 50: Feel The Difference – RRSAHM

Kidspot Ford Territory Top 50: Feel The Difference

by Lori Dwyer on April 12, 2012 · 14 comments

Nobody starts a blog with any idea what the hell they’re doing.

I begin with blissful ignorance, fresh off a patenting forum, having to ask my mate Sarie how to insert a hyperlink and in a state of intimidated awe when I saw blog awards… awards. Obviously, the bloggers who bestowed them on others where a huge big deal… why else would they be giving out awards? (Just a note on blog awards- they are awesome. As we know, they mean…. not much at all, really, but they are as good a meme as any other. And memes- blog games- are the shizzle when you first start out blogging. First off, you meet other bloggers and begin to be part of that community. Second, they are a Godsend on the days (weeks?) when you are struggling to come up with yet another idea for a blog post.)

I stumbled through and around and about the blogosphere, bumping into people, probably stepping on toes, leaving comments anywhereIi could and developing a persona I hadn’t had to use for a while– Miss Community Spirit *cue pompoms*. I participated in everything, I learnt as I went. I f*cked up and blogged about it, I did cool stuff and blogged about that too. I wrote stuff that was funny, and unfunny. In fact, I made the mistake of deleting some of the funniest, crudest posts I’d ever written (Bad Humpty, any Retro Jellybeans….?He rocked). I lost a Follower and was devastated. I wrote one of the best posts I’ve ever published– one that resonates with me so strangely now, in the After- within the first few weeks of blogging.

If you’re new to this part of the internet… welcome. It’s a strange, enlightening place to be. You’ll find yourself disheartened occasionally. Don’t take anything too personally. If you keep a sense of humor and remember that this is the Internet, not real life, the benefits outweigh the downfalls. Most of the time.

And here, perception is everything. Trust me.

When I first begin Random Ramblings of a SAHM– not knowing that most people had no idea what that acronym stood for, unless they’d spent a lot of time on parenting forums; or that that was, possibly, the longest and most cumbersome blog name in the history of the www– the Aussie blogosphere was still kind of the same place it is now… only totally different.

RRSAHM circa June 2010

Through the eyes of Lori the new Aussie mummy blogger, circa early 2010… Suger was huge, Holly was everywhere, Eden was already a big deal in the US but we’d never heard of her, the MadMother kicked everyone’s butts, every time, in a weekly blogging challenge that I think has fallen by the wayside– sad, but check out Eden’s Fresh Horses for the same kind of random, post–inspiring stuff; I was nervous linking up to the Muse Wars for the first time because Mel had 132 followers and that was stacks (by the way, for any of you who like to write creatively, the Muse Wars is returning here to RSSAHM in the next few weeks… same jellybean channel. Stay tuned.); Brenda was the only blogger I knew of who made any money; and WoogsWorld hadn’t even poked her head onto the web. (In fact, I remember Woogs first ever post on the DP forums- which was, back then, the Aussie Mummy Blogger forums, asking about buying a domain name. And I would have put good money on it that her and Sawhole were the same person…. right up until I saw them in the same room, at the same time.)

I had 31 followers when Brenda– 674 followers– asked me to guest post for her. I actually thought I would hyperventilate or pee myself before I got to answer the email.

I got an email about something called the Top 50 Bloggers when I’d been blogging for about three months, and I didn’t think anything of it. In fact, I think I thought that there must only be about fifty blogs in Australia… scraping the bottom of the barrel, evidently.

There was, that first year, a bit of animosity after the Top 50 list was released. I get that…. if I hadn’t been on it, I would have been… devastated. I actually would have cried- seriously, I’m not even being sarcastic. I’ve been lucky enough to be chosen three years running, one of only two blogs– me and Bern. (I think. I’m probably wrong. Correct me, please.) Every year, I know there’s an undercurrent of hurt feelings that rolls in after the list is announced. I understand it. One year– probably next year, my luck has to run out soon– I’ll feel that tang of disappointment too. It’s the way humans work. (What we call human nature is actually human habit– Jewel Kilcher).

The blogging events that happen on a regular basis now where non–existent two years ago. I think the first big one was when the Sydney–based Top 50 in 2010 were invited to Taronga Zoo. That day
remains in my memory as one of the best I ever spent as a family with my husband still with us… there seems to be so few of those, memories of pleasant events that include all four of us, and this one is strongest. I remember holding Tony’s hand and trying not to skip as I whispered to him “That’s Fat Mum Slim!!!! Omigod!! Right there, in front of us!!!” Because Chantelle was then, and still is now, an uber–blogger… and one of the sweetest, most genuine people you could meet.

I also met Zoey that day, recognizing her only because I saw pictures of Riley daily– seeing Riley had the bizarre quality of meeting someone infamous that you’ve only ever seen in print. I didn’t know what to make of Zoey; or the other big Aussie blogger at the time, Veronica from Sleepless Nights… because neither of them had a Follower box to tell me how popular they were.

Ahhh… the Follower box. I’d like to say that I’ve never paid attention to it, that it doesn’t matter… but I’d be lying. Its mattered… it matters. I love the bloody thing. Before I understood stats or anal–ytics or hit rates, it was the indicator whether I was blogging well, or not well. (Numbers went up– doing well! Numbers stagnant– meh. Needs improvement.)

Tony– who loved to stir me– laughed at me when I first began blogging, and told me he’d buy me dinner if it I hit one hundred followers. When he died, he owed me four meals out. Now it’s more like thirteen. Not that it matters, because in the next few days I’m migrating this blog to WordPress. Which will mean nada to you guys reading, but is causing me major panic attacks, Epbot–style. And not least because I’ll lose my Follower box. The Google God reckons its being phased out anyway… that does nothing to decrease my anxiety.

RRSAHM circa March 2011….

How will people know I’m awesome if there isn’t something here that tells them that already…?

I know– insecure, much? Welcome to my head. This blog went for being a fun hobby to my lifeline, my safety net, my source of self esteem.

The afternoon the sky fell in, I was on my computer when Tony came home from work. I had no bigger plans for that afternoon than writing a blog post– FlogYoBlog Friday, probably themed around the New Year… new year, same sh*t, that kind of thing.

Instead, my world fell apart. And my blog became… everything. The only stable thing I had in a reality that had become, if nothing else, inherently unstable.

You may think I’m being melodramatic when I say I wouldn’t have survived without it. I assure you I’m not.

I don’t remember a lot of what I wrote in the weeks following Tony’s death, or the first three months in Paradise. I read some of them back, occasionally, and it hurts to even remember the space I was, how much pain I was in (how did I do that, how did I even survive that…?). I watched myself win awards and write articles from a distance– while one Lori cowered and screamed, still partly in the laneway at the back of her Purple House; the other was competent and efficient and still had something she was good at.

I had this blog, and I had a constant source of replenishment for my bruised, battered self esteem. Again, this isn’t melodrama– this blog is everything to me. That may strike you as sad and somewhat treacherous psychological territory to tread… but it is truth.

Awesome button by Danimezza… yes, I know you want one.

I’m actually writing this post as my entry for the prize part of the Kidspot Top 50 for this year, 2012. The prize is a ticket to BlogHer’12 in NYC. I want to go, for so many reasons… mainly to celebrate. To stand on top of a freaking big hill and breath the fresh air and rest on my backpack full of useless rocks for a moment and enjoy it.

If I reach top five, we’ll all have to deal with me posting a handful of posts about Ford. Tony, being a Holden kind of guy, would be rolling in his metaphorical grave…. he’ll just have to deal with it too.

I’m supposed to tell you in this post what it is that makes me different from other bloggers, from the other blogs in the Top 50. I guess the ‘blogging–through–a–suicide–thing’ is right up there on the list of good reasons.

But, in truth…. I’m no different, no better, than any other blogger; and RRSAHM is not that much different from any other blog. We’re all storytellers. We all take our tiny corners of the Internet and transform them into scrapbooks of ourselves, our passions, slices of our lives on show. The best bets, the worst bits, the boring bits. All the stuff that makes us real.

I started a blog, and I learnt as I went along, making mistakes and getting things right and sometimes not knowing which it was I’d done. I write, have written, every day for two years now. And be it through practice or pain (and some days I feel like Robert Johnson, selling my soul to the devil for a talent such as this..), I’ve improved. Through practice, most people do.

In reality– while I never underestimate how lucky I am to have the readers I have, and I’m always grateful for the opportunities this place brings me– I’m no different to any of other millions of bloggers out there. We all just so what we do. I just happen to have a story to tell that not many people have heard a version of bef
ore, and I’ve been blessed with the ability to tell it well. I’m an exceedingly lucky woman that I have so many people engaged in my life, in my narrative; so many people who want to know how this all turns out as much as I do.

Just another blogger... if the Internet broke tomorrow, I’d just have to go back to writing in my journal. Maybe– hopefully not– I’d go back to just not writing at all, the way I did before I became a blogger… but at least this time round I’d know what I was missing.

The point to this post…? I’m not sure there is one. But I would truly appreciate any and every vote you can give me. Standing at the summit for a bit, enjoying the view from New York City… it’d be a very nice place to be.

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{ 14 comments… read them below or add one }

Madmother April 19, 2012 at 9:04 pm: Hah – you know you have my vote! And you forgot to mention my butt-kicking on the Blog This comps too, lol.

Yeah, toot-toot- tooting my own horn, i know.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

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the worstest mommy April 14, 2012 at 4:06 am: Voted…and I sincerely hope you get to NYC. It is an incredible place and just makes you want to start over!

The first post of your I read was The Medium…I then went back and had to read the previous year's worth of posts just to know what it was all about. Time not wasted for sure! You are truly one of my favorite bloggers!!

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Lindseywishinguponstars April 13, 2012 at 1:56 am: Voted for you!

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Mommy adventures April 13, 2012 at 12:14 am: I will vote for you. I'm glad I found your blog after briefly meeting you at the breathe for life thing

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Debyl1 April 12, 2012 at 11:45 pm: I cant recall what brought me here to your wonderful blog but I know I keep coming back because every post is different.Just as every day in everyones life is.You share,we share,our ups and our downs.
This really is like a jar of jelly beans of many colours and flavours.You never know which one you are going to get.
Thankyou for sharing your sweets with us x

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Melissa April 12, 2012 at 10:31 pm: Fingers crossed Lori!! It would be SO fab if you could come to NYC!! Your USA followers (especially ME) would get our butts there to support you!!

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Melissa {Suger} April 12, 2012 at 9:59 pm: Great post Lori! A walk down memory lane and SO much more. I'm overwhelming proud of you. Every day and often think of you, wondering how your doing. I think I need to visit more often again. Like back in the day.

Ahh yes, apparently I totally peaked in 2010. My blog was a couple months old and I was queen of my lunch box. Haha. Going to be hard to top the summer of 2010.

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CAM April 12, 2012 at 8:50 pm: I voted for you Lori.
To be perfectly honest, I don't read every post you write…sometimes it is too raw, too intense for me…I wuss out. But I'll never forget sobbing, absolutely SOBBING reading the post where you saw the medium and Tony was there. Holy Cow…it was spine tingling. Every part of me ached for you that day and I still think about that post regularly. I'm a bit of a skeptic about all that stuff…but that post completely changed my point of view.
I admire your guts and determination in the face of life sucking hugely. I truly hope you get to go to NYC and enjoy the summit

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Brenda April 12, 2012 at 5:47 pm: Wow. That takes me back. Good luck, Lori!X

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Melissa April 12, 2012 at 4:02 pm: Done! WHEN you win, and if I'm lucky enough to win the voter's prize, can I come too??? Good luck!

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allison tait April 12, 2012 at 9:46 am: Great post Lori! You've got my vote.

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Miss Pink April 12, 2012 at 9:27 am: Ok so Holly was my first blog I followed over here. i followed it before dived in and started my own having known her from MySpace days.
But you were the second possibly? I know you and Sarah were two of the first I followed when I started my own blog. I remember joiningthe Aussie Mummy Blogger Forums and seeing that you gals were locals and you saying you lived a couple of suburbs over from where I grew up and being all "OMG Aussie bloggers AND they live local WTF?" (Because my other blog is primarily American bloggers).

Until the Kareoke last year I still didn't believe Sawhole wasn't Mrs Woog. Insane right? I started following WoogWorld for the Saturday's with Sawhole editions because no one blogged on weekends and Mr Black was woking Saturday's at the time, so it was great to have something to read.
Maxabella was another very early on blog follow for me.

In the last year the blogosphere has skyrocketed. I've watched if first hand from whn hitting the 100+ followers mark meant you were a big blogger to now where you need to at least have 500+ to be considered a somebody.
I even remember Glow begging to hit that 100 mark before The ABC.

Lori, you know me, I've already voted on this, but I really do hope you get to stand on your summit and scream at the world.

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Chantelle {fat mum slim} April 12, 2012 at 7:25 am: Lori, what a journey! I remember that day at the zoo and being so excited that you were there too, and the kids. I always think back and think what a beautiful family you were/are.

xx

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Good Golly Miss Holly! April 12, 2012 at 11:29 am: It has been how many years and I still scream like a bitch in your presence! x

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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: The House That Love Built.

Valentine's Day and Vibrators (and Things That Start With F). – RRSAHM

Valentine’s Day and Vibrators (and Things That Start With F).

by Lori Dwyer on February 2, 2013 · 6 comments

There’s something thoroughly unsentimental and quite un–romantic about the realities of being in a long distance relationship.

There’s always the usual sense of wanting to devour one another, to eat each other whole until you’ve gorged yourself, filled yourself completely on the other person’s scent.

And then there’s the 776 aching, smug kilometers between you (give or take a few hundred metres or so. And not like I’m at all obsessive enough to actually look that up or anything). Some days that feels like nothing at all, connected by fast speed Internet and a dozen different ways to communicate. Other days it seems as though I can feel every millimeter of every centimeter of flat freeway that rolls out between us.

And we both end up kind of lonely, frustrated and dissatisfied. Because there’s only so much you can say over the phone when there aren’t really words for it… you need to kiss it into their skin to get your meaning across.

And, so I’ve been told; the harder you fall, the worse that longing gets.

I’m imagining all that tension and frustration will only be exasperated by the impending event that is Valentine’s Day. Because if there’s one day of the year that everyone (else) seems to be getting laid, then Valentine’s Day is the day.

Not that my Valentine’s Day isn’t going to be awesome. Due to having one very sore right breast, I’m booked in for a mammogram that day.

No one panic– precautionary measure only, no one has used the ’l’ word or anything of it’s equivalent (in fact, I watched the student doctor almost say it– “I’m just feeling for l– abnormalities”– before she stopped herself, obviously aware how much the word ’lump’ and ’breast’ in the same sentence understandably freaks women right out). And, yes, I am aware that mammograms are exceptionally unpleasant, especially if you are already ’exquisitely tender’ (who knew that was medical terminology?)

But right now, I’m choosing to take a bit of amusement from the situation. Because, at this stage… I can.

And with the The Most Amazing Man In The Universe a whole 776 km’s away… at least someone will be feeling my boobs on Valentine’s Day.

***

I news completely unrelated (kind of not really) to my sexual frustration, I have finally got a giveaway just for the US readers. And it’s awesome.

To ensure every one has an awesome time on Valentines Day- whether you be single or part of a couple- the awesome people from Adult Toy Store have given me one $25 voucher to go to one of my US readers.

Check out all the awesomely naughty fun stuff you can buy here…
www.theadulttoyshop.com/collections

To win, fill in the form and tell me in 25 words or less-ish- what are you doing for Valentine’s Day? As mentioned, this one is for US readers only. Entries close midnight AEST on Friday February 8th, 2013. My decision is final and no bitching, whinging or correspondence entered into.

Non-US jellybeans, don’t’ be shy. Leave me a comment and let me know- what are your plans for Valentines Day? Or do you just plan to ignore the whole schemozzle….?

Tagged as: Jellybeans, love, my head is an awesome place to live, S.E.X, WIn Stuff

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{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }

Emma February 7, 2013 at 8:29 pm

Oohhhh Lori! Where’s the plug for PassionZone Adult Parties?!

Lori February 8, 2013 at 4:45 pm: Hehe Emma- where’s the prize pack to giveaway??! :p

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Miss Pink February 4, 2013 at 3:27 pm

I am planning to ignore the whole fucking thing. Fuck Valentines Day and the ‘L’ word.

Alisha W. February 3, 2013 at 10:16 am

Pick me, Pick me! I want to win Sadly, my husband works over-night shift and he has to go to work Valentines day evening so no big plans for us…which is EXACTLY why I NEED to win this lol!!! (US reader here!)

Griff February 3, 2013 at 5:16 am

I’m feeling it too Lori. Almost flew from home (well, Cairns) to Brisbane for 24 hours today, just so I could breathe Her in. Flights next weekend don’t look promising either, so I may have to wait until March/April. On a more promising note, I *may* have a job in Brisbane…and on a similar Twilight Zone theme, R had a sore right breast a couple of weeks ago, but the pain disappeared. No ‘L’ thankfully. Hugs and Love Lori.

Amanda February 2, 2013 at 10:49 pm

Lori that’s too funny, I’ve been using that same line myself about Valentines day! Go back for mammograms on v day as its my 2 year anniversary of breast cancer. The surgeon in whose hands I put my breasts is such a sweetie. Just as well, he’s the only handling them right now

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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Another New House In Paradise….

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The Chop Does Big School- Part One – RRSAHM

The Chop Does Big School- Part One

by Lori Dwyer on January 30, 2013 · 12 comments

The Chop starts Big School this Thursday.

He’s delighted, more excited than I’ve ever seen him. Ready, in fact, to go off and catch the school bus alone, should I let him (not likely…).

I’m… OK with it. I doubt very much that I’ll be one of the mums–in–tears. I’m not sure my emotional state even allows for that level of sensitivity, or I’d be a mess every single freaking day.

But there’s certainly something poignant and bittersweet and happy–sad about it. I’m so infinitely proud of my mature, kind, practical, sensible, inquisitive little boy.

The First Day of Big School rushed in quickly after seeming to dawdle for months, frustrating both myself and my son with how very far away it seemed. And now that its here, I’m slightly terrified by the reality of it. How did this happen so quickly? Why did it take me until now to realize that this is it– he will no longer have me to shepherd him through treacherous social situations. And it’s the social side that scares me… he’s just a baby, really.

And, of course, he’s my baby.

So I worry. Have I taught him enough…? In all that time that I was living in my own scorching, repeating reality; did I talk enough, show him love and affection…?

I know the answer to that is– I didn’t. And I’ve no doubt that made him tougher, made him grow up faster than he should have. But whether it led to a crumbling, spongy self esteem on the inside… I’m never sure.

And the best I can do about it is make up for lost time. Tell him, now a hundred times a day that I love him, I adore him, that he’s awesome. And cross my fingers that I’ve taught him enough, in terms of what he’ll need for now, going out into the Big Wide World without me, five days a week, six hours a day, without the close supervision of daycare and the familiarity that exists there.

Me and my big boy

I hope I be taught him to speak up when he needs to, to make himself be heard if its important. I hope I’ve taught him to use good manners as his default setting, to show other people he respects them without having to say it out loud. I hope I’ve taught him to be kind and friendly, to see the funny side of things. I hope I’ve taught that some people are just not nice, and its best to ignore them as much as you can. And I hope I’ve taught to deal with those situations that eventuate, that will always eventuate– the ones where everyone else is making Fathers Day cards. The times other kids tease him with “You don’t have a dad”. (”You do have a dad…” I tell him and his sister, after he revealed it to me one afternoon, months ago. “You do have a dad. But he died and he’s in Heaven. He would be here, if he could be, and he loves you very much.”)

And, of course… it’s that one that scares me most.

And that’s the over–riding feeling here. It’s not missing Tony, wishing he was here. I used to imagine how sad I’d be, without Tony here to watch our little boy begin his Real, Big Adult Life for the first time. But there is part of me– that deep, simmering anger that’s still pissed off, mostly on my children’s behalf, at my husband for leaving– that is rejoicing, tuning cartwheels of happiness at having this day, my son’s First Day of Big School, as my own. Because I’ve done this, over the last two years– the awesome little person he is, is mainly due to my influence.

I just hope that its been influence enough. Because when it does up, his dad and the simple fact that he’s not here anymore, I want my little boy to have the answers and emotional armor and ammunition he’s going to need to deal with it.

Fingers, well and truly crossed. And only time will tell.

Tagged as: bump, children, chop, Life But Not As We Know It, mothering, Philosophising Things Up, stuff that makes me happy

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{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }

Kim Bayne January 30, 2013 at 5:53 pm

So perfectly written and articulated that I am now thinking that my own Blog post about my little guy’s first day is unnecessary! You said it all! I totally agree about not being one of the crying parents…its a milestone not a tragedy…its a time to celebrate the awesome parenting that has brought them to this moment and have faith that they are going to be OK in the world…Happy First Day Chop!
Kim xox

Lori Dwyer January 30, 2013 at 5:59 pm: What a lovely comment- thanks so much Kim I think I’ll be putting the ‘mum’ back into ‘mum blogger’ the next week or so, to be honest- all of a sudden I have a lot to say on the subject! x

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Carol January 30, 2013 at 2:48 pm

Happy, Happy First Day of School, Chop!! You’re on your way, kiddo

Lori Dwyer January 30, 2013 at 5:53 pm: Thanks Carol x

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Sapphyre January 30, 2013 at 2:18 pm

All the best for tomorrow Lori. I shed no tears (except maybe of relief) when my children started school.

BTW, don’t forget that all important photo in school uniform on his first day

Lori Dwyer January 30, 2013 at 5:57 pm: Thanks Sapphyre- I’m so looking forward to taking that photo, actually. He tried on his new school bag today- it looks huge!!

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The Flying Drunken Monkey January 30, 2013 at 1:59 pm

I can’t believe it’s his first day at school already. He’s going to be awesome, I just know it.

Lori Dwyer January 30, 2013 at 5:58 pm: Thanks Cass! I *know*… how did that happen?!

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Kristie January 30, 2013 at 1:40 pm

Happy First Day of School Chop Chop!

Lori Dwyer January 30, 2013 at 5:58 pm: Thanks Kristie!

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Molly January 30, 2013 at 9:35 am

BIG SCHOOL! How exciting for the Chop. I can kinda remember my first day at school – that weird mixture of terror and excitement. I reckon the little Chop is going to be just fine. Even if there are hard times and questions and kids that don’t get it, he’ll be fine anyway. You’ve helped him be strong.

Lori Dwyer January 30, 2013 at 5:58 pm: It’s bizarre you say that Molly- I remember my first day at school too!

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For Now. – RRSAHM

For Now.

by Lori Dwyer on May 5, 2014 · 13 comments

I know… it’s been a while.

And I’m publishing a sponsored post tomorrow- the last one that has to be done, that I lined up before my blogging mojo evaporated a few weeks ago.

I don’t know why. I just can’t write. I look deep into myself, the way I’ve always done, trying to share what’s happening in my head…

And I draw a blank.

Then I worry about having such a weird, contorted form of blogger’s block. Then I worry more because something still feels like I need to write, I just can’t. Then I stress about the people who read this, who care about me, and I feel as though I’m letting them down by not blogging.

Eventually, I get to the point where thinking about blogging at all causes a massive burl of anxiety in my gut. Then I procrastinate, and ignore all of it, and hope it goes away. And it doesn’t and the cycle repeats itself.

I’m not sure where I’m going with this. I’m not at all ready to give up my blog…. I’m selfish, and I want it here when I need it. But I seem to be having some kind of weird internal crisis. And I didn’t want to go and spam you all with another sponsored post without some explanation of where I’ve been, why I’ve been so quiet.

It’s not a good one… but it’s the truth. And it’ll do. For now.

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{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }

Lori June 30, 2014 at 5:56 am

It sounds like what Katie said – that you’re just happy and maybe you don’t need the release of writing right at this moment. And that’s ok. Your blog is for you, so write when you feel like it, and don’t when you don’t. And don’t feel guilty.

I read your Mercedes post. Boy, those kidlets sure got big!

Debbie Doo June 16, 2014 at 6:49 pm

I go through the exact same thing almost every week! There is something that just keeps pushing us forward – it’s called passion and it can be sooooo frustrating!

sh-profiltechnik.de May 24, 2014 at 11:16 am

Fashion’s reaction then was to dress up and escape into nostalgia, but (with a further exquisite twist of symmetry) picking out for its inspiration the movies of the Thirties and Forties, which were, of course, yet another fashionfantasy defence against the bleakest of times. What we have now is an echo within an echo within an echo, all edged with ironies. We are up against it now, yes, but still, there is comfort: which year 2011, 1972 or 1942 would you rather live in? Easy choice, I think.. I

Mel G May 7, 2014 at 9:11 pm

I’m glad you’re still around, I’ve been thinking of you xx

Deb May 7, 2014 at 8:32 pm

as long as you’re ok. That’s all that matters!

Bec @ Seeing the Lighter Side of Parenting May 6, 2014 at 5:14 pm

Sounds like you need a break. Maybe give yourself at last a couple of weeks off where you promise not to do any blogging at all (just like a holiday) then see how you feel. My theory on blogging is that I’ll stop when it’s not fun anymore. Take care x
Bec @ Seeing the Lighter Side of Parenting recently posted…Solving the budget emergency: introducing the Private P.I.S. levy

Vanessa May 6, 2014 at 1:45 pm

I think that writing (blogging) has ebbs and flows. Just like most creative aspects. Maybe you’re just exercising your creativity elsewhere, but the writing feels like a habit & that’s why it’s nagging at you?

Whoa, Molly! May 6, 2014 at 1:31 pm

I’m glad to see your post! Don’t think you owe us anything. We just like you, that’s why we follow. If you don’t got the words, you just don’t got em. I’m in exactly the same boat as you – I’ve not blogged in quite some time. I have nothing to say, probably for the first time in my life, and it’s scary. Everyday I think, ‘I’ll try to blog today’ and everyday I draw a blank. It’s so disheartening. It’s not because nothing is going on – so much is. I just don’t know how to say it.

TL;DR – Good to see you, and I’m totally feeling you. X
Whoa, Molly! recently posted…Clarion What?

Katie Paul May 6, 2014 at 12:12 pm

Have you considered that the urge to spill your thoughts upon the page might be because you’re happy? It’s true that it’s easier to write about shit than sunshine.
It might not be a block at all, just a change in direction.
Maybe ask yourself, what would you say if you knew no one was listening …
K x
Katie Paul recently posted…Showing Off • Is It Vain to Talk About Our Good Fortune?

Katie Paul May 10, 2014 at 5:25 pm: That’s a word missing from the first sentence which makes it totally confusing … it should read Have you considered that the urge to spill your thoughts upon the page might be *GONE* because you’re happy?
Oops
Katie Paul recently posted…Things Get Better

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Helen May 6, 2014 at 11:20 am