- Catherine Irwin
- Perth, WA, Australia
- Hi friends. To those I have met in person and the many I haven't - welcome to our nest. Thanks so much for stopping by. I am a mama of six baby birds and wife to one papa bird. Our nest is an intricately woven home, crafted over time, through the highs and lows of life, and many in-betweens. We are soon to leave our Australian nest to re-locate to our second home, the UK. This is our story, of our new life in a new country, the trials and tribulations, bidding goodbye to precious friends and embracing new. I know at times, our wings will be flapping so hard to keep us moving forward that we will tire, however, a little perseverence will bring effortless gliding amongst a soft breeze, and even stronger wings for the journey ahead. Welcome to our flight......
Sunday, 6 March 2011
There'll be days like this ..
I'm far too emotional.
I'm way too fat.
I'm always this and seldom that.
But what do I care.
I don't give a fluff.
I'm totally fantastic and
believe none of that stuff!
I love this verse from the inspirational affirmations company, 'Twigseeds'. It brings a smile to my face and even a little chuckle if I am feeling really happy. Most often than not though, when I reach for my inspirational sayings, I am feeling blue, tired and/or weepy - usually all three.
This weekend has been one of those 'Twigseed' weekends, where everything feels off-kilter, and I would swear that I am lugging around a ten tonne millstone hanging from my neck. Every movement takes an enormous amount of effort as I struggle and strain to 'do life'.
In reality, the babies are choked with colds and oozing green snot. The teenager has lost her voice (small mercies really) and is pre-menstrual (quick - duck). I have a raging sinus infection and feel as though my facial bones are drumming to some sort of tribal bongo beat. My beloved Mum has been ill for nearly two months, with little reprieve, and two of my best friends have wound up in the ER with severe health problems.
When I am down and feeling sick on top of it, and attempting to carry all of the other stuff in life, all I want to do is shed my skin and slip into another - effortlessly, superbly, sublime. Like a 'Mission Impossible' movie, where Tom Cruise peels his pretend face off to reveal the actual character underneath, I want to go purchase the pretend mask for a bit and escape for a break. I have been scanning the Big-W catalogues, however, to my disappointment, such masks are not for sale, and a cheap, plastic Spiderman just won't do.
Being a mum, wife, daughter and friend is not an easy calling. In fact, I can't remember the exact moment I signed on for this task. It must be accumulative - the children certainly were. You see the soft, milk-sweet babies turn into stroppy toddlers who fling their arms and legs about and demand opinions of their own, which in turn morph into tweenies with attitudes and teenagers who are mini-adults with every correct and perfect answer to everything under the sun. Before you know it, your house is full to the brim with mass - aka people - individual, complex, precious and heart-breakingly scary - if you are the parent.
The wife, daughter, friend, bit is slightly easier but unfortunately gets tacked on at the end and they have to make do with left-overs, which lets face it, are often dry, taste slightly of tupperware and very mediocre.
So - as much as I would like to stop the treadmill for a bit - hit pause, shed my skin, down a few shooters and kick back (which for the record, I have never done - the shooters that is!), I really can't. I have been given the gift of motherhood six times over and blessed with children who adore me, despite my obvious flaws which are gapingly visual every single day. They forgive me, they forget my grumpiness, my outbursts, my tired emotions, and they tell me they love me still and that I am the best Mum ever - as far as they are concerned.
There is a dim light that I try to flame into fire on these 'shedding skin' days, whereby I hope that these attributes the children so graciously share with me, were learnt somewhere along the line through their parenting. All I can say is - thank goodness for their Father, because if they just relied on their Mother, then we would really be in trouble.
However, as the 'Twigseeds' verse says, 'I don't give a fluff, I am totally fantastic and believe none of that stuff!'