Do You Ever Get Bored With Yourself?

This is something that I go through all the time. I get bored with being me. Sigh.


I wish I was different. I wish I could take a few weeks and completely re-invent myself. 


There is nothing stopping me, I guess. I could revamp my clothes, change my hair, get some new make-up things and talk about new {and more exciting} things.


But, who do I want to be?


I bought a navy and white striped t-shirt a while ago. I bought it because it was cute. I really liked it. This is the third time in my life that it has been 'in' and I have loved it every single time. I thought my new shirt was so hip:  I wore it with my skinny jeans, red beads and little ballet flats. But, sigh, when I dropped Miss A at school and saw how many other mummies hopped out of their cars dressed in exactly the same way {pretty much} I felt like a bit of a fashion victim.


Now, I looked nice, and so did all the other mummies. But what set me apart? What made me stand out from the crowd?


Then I check into 'BlogWorld' and think the same thing. Sigh. What am I doing that is anything different? What am I doing that is special? Unique? Funky? Sigh.


Then the dreaded question that comes up all the time in the dark little lonely corner in the back of my mind, 'Why on earth are you blogging anyway? What have you got to say? What can you offer the Blogosphere?' And then my mind rattles off all the dumb things I do, the errors I make and the failed attempts at creativity.


I just want my blog to be something different. I want it to be something unique. Something special.


When I was a teenager thoughts like these wrought me constantly. I drove myself crazy wondering what I could offer the universe. I wondered what I could do that would make any difference. I looked forward to being an adult and seeing an end to these tormenting questions.


But here I sit. My two beautiful girls are watching television eating bananas and laughing at the Wot Wots, BabyCool is asleep {fingers crossed} and I am blah-ing out my current emotional state into the Blogosphere. Sigh. It feels as if nothing has changed. I am still tormenting myself.


But, there is another part of my brain that has a door that is hard to open and I find it hard to remember where I keep the key. Behind this door are all the positive comments and encouraging words that people have passed on to me. Kind words from friends who believe in what I am doing. Laughter from my family about the silly things I have said. Comments from strangers who have left lovely, helpful, encouraging comments.


There is a little nook in this room that has some reminders written on sticky notes for me to read. Things like:

• not everyone is able to write about things the way I am able to
• not everyone feels the need to be so open and honest about things
• not everyone has the time or space to put their thoughts down on paper a screen
• not everyone wants to share tips and tricks and thoughts and funny stories with strangers
• not everyone sees the internet as a place to meet like minded people who like the same things {while all keeping their clothes on (I hope), don't want to spam you or get your credit card details}
• not everyone wakes through the night with hundreds of blog ideas and story ideas running through their heads and then cannot sleep again until these thoughts are captured and written down

I don't let my mind into this nook very often. I tell myself that this nook is not somewhere I should be snooping around in. It would be bad for me to have all that goodness seeping into my brain. I would end up being too self-confident. However, I need to remind myself that I am not 'everyone' and all of the above things are very much me. 

So, now I am back at the beginning. Wondering how I can either - re-invent myself or how to be happy being B.  Sigh.

Just yesterday I went to a lunch with a whole heap of bloggers. I came away with a mixed bag of emotions... What I am doing is unique and I am certainly moving in the right direction but I have soooo much to learn. I loved actually talking to other bloggers and hearing why they blog and why they started and how they get their ideas. It has given me lots of things to think about...


I think the biggest stumbling block is me. 

Friday Food - Pepernoten

These tiny little spiced biscuits, called Pepernoten, are traditionally made at Christmas time and are enjoyed by young and old. I made these for morning tea when all of my nieces and nephews were over. Oh my goodness, the smell of cloves and cinnamon filling the house really made me think of Christmas - and also visiting the houses of older ladies from my church when I was growing up.


My lovely friend Anne was very chuffed to pass on this recipe to me. Anne is an Aussie through and through and she married a Dutch man. Bless her heart. She has embraced a lot of the Dutch culture, which I think is totally cool. I love hearing stories of how couples embrace one another's culture to make a family that has a rich texture of knowledge, understanding and traditions.


Anne says that her lovely husband Jack remembers Pepernoten being made so small that they could be scattered on the ground for Sinte Klaas' {Saint Nicholaas - a man who was kind to children - think Santa Claus without the elves} speckled horse. 

Pepernoten

Prep Time: 10 minutes
Cooking Time: 15 minutes
Makes: More than 40


Ingredients


40 grams of soft butter
50 grams of brown sugar
1 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
100g self raising flour
2 tablespoons of milk
A pinch of salt


Method

1. Preheat oven to 175 degrees Celcius
2. Mix butter, sugar, spices and salt to form a paste
3. Add flour and milk and mix to form a soft dough
4. Roll into balls of about 1 1/2 cm and flatten them a little with your thumb {I forgot to do this}
5. Bake in the oven for about 15 minutes
6. If you have any left over, allow to cool completely and store in an airtight container

Variations...

Do you know what? These are perfect and traditional. I can't think of a way to make them better. 

Thankful Thursday + iPPP - Christmas Ornaments

We lived in London a few years ago. It was before kidlets but after university. It was awesome. We made some great friends and saw some amazing things. While living in London we had a few haunts that we loved: Cornish Pasties in Covent Garden, Nutella Pancakes from the little caravan near Westminster bridge, Candied Peanuts near The Tate Modern, the bookstore on Picadilly, Gap on Oxford Street, the internet cafe near Selfridges, the Dell in Hyde Park... Oh, I could write a book of things I loved about London.

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But one store captured my heart more than any other. It was Harrods. Oh sweet Harrods. I loved it from the moment I hopped off the tube and was swamped by stampeding post Christmas shoppers. Within those hallowed walls were things I had never seen before. Under one roof you could buy diamonds, skin treatments, Chinchillas {whatever they are}, Barbie dolls, polo kit, fireplaces, and it is the only store in the UK that has a licence to sell monkeys - handy. This excludes the amazing eateries and other departments with price tags longer than my phone number, mind you.

It is an amazing place to go at Christmas too. It is all jazzed up with lights and trees. Drop your coat at the door and escape the winter chill for a while. The Christmas section is a wonderland of delights, sections dedicated to different colour themes and then sections within those of baubles and tinsels and nativity sets and the like.

Are you getting the idea? Harrods is pretty amazing.


Well, imagine a store that good. Now, imagine the post-Christmas sales. I know, did you nearly pass out? Me too. A-MAZ-ING.

I happened upon Harrods after Christmas and was wandering past the Christmas store when I saw that everything was marked down by over 75%. I delightedly bought up a whole heap of decorations. I bought beautiful angels and items hand made in Norway, little knitted girls in red jumpers, handmade felt items from Russia and little London Bobbies and Metro Police ornaments. I did show some restraint, I knew I would have to a) get them past Mr Cool, and b) get them back to Australia.

I love the idea of decorations having a story, so every year when I take out the decorations, I tell the girls the story behind them. So, along with the stories of the Harrods decorations, I also share the stories behind the Beef Eater and Yeoman Warder I bought when we went to the Tower of London. And the story of the tiny tree we had in our tiny London flat and the 'Punk Angel' that we chose to sit atop the tree. And the stories of the decorations I have bought especially for each child each Christmas. And I tell the nativity story when we set up our nativity ornaments. 

I love pulling out the boxes of decorations every year and remembering when we bought each ornament and why. I am thankful to be reminded of all the goodness in the world and to share a bit of that with our children is such a blessing. 

Everything has a story... I really love that. 

Do your Christmas decorations have stories? Do you share them with your children?


I am linking up with 'a belle, a bean and a chicago dog' for some 'iPPP' and 'kate says stuff' for 'Thankful Thursday'


 

Write on Wednesdays - Coming Home {To You This Christmas}

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Coming Home (To You This Christmas)

The snow had fallen steadily in London and the shires the days before Christmas. The ground was covered in white. Christmas morning was a flurry of excitement as children were opening gifts and being told to straighten up their shirts. Dogs were being let out and turkeys were being put in the oven.

Dressed in a black cashmere jumper with a pretty beaded icicle on the front, I could not have felt further from home. Here I was sitting in a snow covered church with angels overhead, the only church in England to have carved angels with their wings open, listening to a beautiful liturgy, watching light dance and twirl on real fir trees and smelling their earthy scent. It just didn't feel real.

Oceans and continents away my family sat together in the Australian heat. Dipping into the swimming pool, eating mangoes and getting sunburnt. My homesick heart was with them. But, my heart too had its wings wide open, like the angels in the church. I was away from home, yes, but I was amongst friends who were like family. It was a time like no other and I will hold that memory in my Christmas treasure chest forever.

The back story - if you have a few more minutes.

When we lived in London, we met some people who happened to live just down the road. They were the kind of friends who were always keen to have us over, they were our family away from home. We spent many nights on their couches drinking wine, or tea, or coffee {or all three} and laughed and laughed and talked into the wee hours of the morning. We spent days sight seeing and had trips camping in Cornwall together. We celebrated all the seasons with them, it was a great time. I still mist up when I think of these two beautiful people. Even though we don't talk often, they are always in my heart. 

We were very blessed to spend Christmas with their family in Cambridgeshire. It was magical. The snow covered the fields around the sprawling farmhouse we stayed in. We went to church on Sunday morning in a church where angels were carved into the roof (with wings open) watching over the proceedings. We enjoyed walking through Sandringham and shared many laughs as we played board games. For a few nights, we were ensconced into another family, we saw quibbles and fights, stolen glances and secretive kisses. We ate turkey with bread sauce and hot puddings with custard. It will be a Christmas I never forget.

Each Christmas I say a prayer for that lovely family. They welcomed us into their home and showed us another side of Christmas. So, when we sit in the blinding heat of Australia eating mangoes, getting sunburnt and watching cricket, I think of them all sitting together in a cosy living room drinking mulled wine and playing board games. 

Life gives us gifts, and normally, those gifts are people.

Use Coming Home (To you this Christmas), a song by Achoo! Bless you, as your writing prompt. I heard this song on the radio this morning and besides thinking that this Sydney Folk Duo have come up with the cutest, sweetest name for a band ever, I also thought the song serves up an alternative to the more traditional tune of the season. Download the song for free here, write down the song title, set your timer for 5 minutes and write the first words that come into your head.

Five Sentence Fiction - Secrets

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With two little heads bowed together, one blonde, one auburn, they whispered and giggled. Wet hair, clean pyjamas, ignoring the peas rolling on their plates, more whispering and more giggling, what could they be whispering about? 


Sisters are ready made best friends. Conspirators of all sorts of mischief, sharers of all sorts of joys. Secret keepers and heart holders to the end.

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

This week’s inspiration word is: SECRETS

Christmas - Trying To Get Into The Spirit

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I have been so excited about Christmas this year. I want to make bunting and wreaths, make wrapping paper and do lots and lots of family fun things. But a couple of things have gotten in the way and tripped me up before I even got into the swing of things.....

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I have been so tired. Tired after a year of lots and lots of life stuff... Lots. And Lots. 

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I have been so busy. The end of the school year has come at lightning speed and is now behind me, the girls are on holidays NOW and I haven't done anything Christmassy with them yet.

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I have been trying to get a dot.com set up. But I am not as smart as I thought I was. It would appear that the more I look into the technical side of blogging {CSS, Hexapixels, Pixel formats, Custom Headers etc} the less my brain can be creative. So my blog has been sitting stagnant for a few days - not something I like.

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I have been sick. Yep, yucky vomitty kind of sick. Just a 24 hour thing but, it has sapped the life out of me. I am left feeling drained and a bit wobbly in the tummy. I want my house to be spick and span again so I get get on with doing some Christmassy things.

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I know I still have time, I just need a plan. So, I shall go and do that. I am really looking forward to it!


Some of my lovely blogging friends have already been doing Christmassy things... You should check them out while I sort myself out...


The Crafty Mummy has been doing LOTS of Christmas craft.... Like Table Runners, Bunting and Beaded Angels.


Over at The Fruitful Life, Lacey has been making Milk Bottle Wreaths and VERY Cute Gift Wrapping

Thankful Thursday - Failed Controlled Crying?

BabyCool has not been the easiest of babies. Cute - YES! Easy - NO! He decided at 6 weeks that really, to be honest, he preferred to feed only on one 'side' {male family members read this blog, cannot say 'breast'}. That is right, for 12 months, he was a 'Uni-Boober' of his own decision. 

He has also been a terrible sleeper. Terrible. For the first few weeks he literally slept ON me at night. I got loads of sleep, but it was all while sitting up holding a tiny boy against me. It was lovely, but it quickly grew thin, I just wasn't getting good quality sleep. So then it was a comedy of errors trying to get him to sleep anywhere else. I thought I had won a tactical warfare game when I worked out that he liked to sleep on his tummy, with the bassinet propped up on 3 thin books, being jiggled while listening to a doppler sound on my iPhone. 


Anyway, things were pretty bad a few months ago when it would take over an hour of jiggling to get him to sleep during the day, most days he would then only sleep for 20-40 minutes. This was not enough - for him or me! He was cranky and clingy and grizzly most of the time and spent most of the afternoons wailing and wailing. My poor boy. Thank goodness we never had to settle him through the night, because he was so darn tired he couldn't stay awake any longer!

So we tried controlled crying. {I think I may have just lost 14 readers with that sentence}. We did everything right, had the timer, had the plan, discussed it with our child health nurse etc etc. I could go into the numbers of minutes it took to get him to sleep and how much time we spent in his room - but - really who needs that kind of information? After a month of incessant timed screaming, I rang a child health nurse in tears. It just wasn't working. I was beside myself.


She was very kind and listened to my blubbering and said that for that day, to do whatever it took to get him to sleep. Whether it be rocking or shushing or whatever, just get him to sleep then have a nap myself. She told me to take a week off and just take stock. I never realised that Controlled Crying would not work. In my head, it made sense. In BabyCool's head, it was not going to work from the start.


During that week 'Off' from Controlled Crying, I rocked BabyCool to sleep and he went to sleep within minutes of being put in his cot, I still patted him, but he did the work of getting to sleep himself. I thought this was just because he was so tired from the 'Month of Misery' - but a couple of months down the road, and he is still doing it! He is now having two sleeps of a minimum 90 minutes!


This morning I had to have a chuckle while out at the grocery store.... 

My 1 year old little boy, who at 9 months who could stay awake from 5am - 7pm with a twenty minute nap, asleep in a shopping trolley...  Go figure. It just goes to show that I really know NOTHING, about babies. Not a thing.


I tell people we failed at Controlled Crying and I make a bit of a joke about it. But I am thankful that we did it. The hours of patting/shushing/rocking a baby to sleep before we tried Controlled Crying were hard, now he goes to sleep in under 10 minutes. I am claiming that as success, plus, I get to have those cuddles where I get to feel his little body go limp and see his eyelids flutter shut. In all of my days, I will never regret that. I am thankful for those moments. 


For the last two nights, he has gone to sleep on his own at night... We are both thankful that he can settle himself to sleep, but a little sad too... 


It seems appropriate to be Thankful on Thursday - with katesaysstuff and it is a bit of iPPP - with abelleabeanandachicagodog