Summer of Love

For the first time since The Sales started Ivy and I hit the shops. I'm not much of a Sales person, I can think of nothing worse and more panic-inducing than lining up to crowd into Myer at 6am on Boxing Day *shudder* No. Thanks. Not. Ever.

But, I do enjoy slow browsing just wondering. Especially on my own. But my second favourite person to shop with is Ivy. She doesn't complain (unlike her brother), doesn't have a timeline (unlike her father), and I can go into the shops that *I* want to go into for as long as I like. There wasn't a heap of specials to be had in the places I was looking - I was wanting to top up the kids wardrobes with basics - but still managed to pick up a few things. One of which was a rainbow skirt for Ivy. It was perfect. So her. And it matches her rainbow sandals. And I'm concerned that I'll never ever ever be able to get he to wear anything else.
(Excuse the child surrounded by bras. God knows why I took the photo there. She kept looking at all the bras saying "boobies Mummy, look at all these boobies!")

On Wednesday Elliot went to his friend's house for a play and to stay for dinner. It was originally supposed to be a sleepover but Elliot decided very early on that the sleepover part would not be happening. Which confused me because he has had sleepovers with cousins and aunties and grandparents many times and even though he has the usual mini-teary at bedtime he has never once knocked one back. So this threw me a little bit. When we talked about it he said he was worried they wouldn't have jam and honey for his toast in the morning, and that he worried that he wouldn't be able to watch his cartoons when he woke up. I guess partly he also knew that Kai goes to bed a bit earlier than he does and didn't want a bar of it ;-)

So while Elliot was out being sociable, Ivy slept for over 3 hours. And I lied on the trampoline and read my book. In peace. Until the mozzies started eating me. But I lay there and enjoyed the sun on my legs and my head and book in the shade and soaked up the quiet. Except for the mozzies buzzing past my ears. Yeah, except for that.

Good god, am I sore. I feel as though I've been hit by a truck. I know it's related to my coming off my medication, and it helps a little bit to get me through, but every single morning I stumble out of bed like an old woman and limp around until my feet stop hurting and my hands loosen up. My knee is the worst though. I can't bend it without it clicking, crunching and grinding every.single.time I straighten it. Which makes it hard to get a good nights sleep which adds to the fact that I am tired beyond belief. It's a busy time of year, we've had a lot on, but Matt and I have been rotating sleep-ins so I shouldn't be feeling this rotten, I'm sure.

But regardless, we push on. Take a pill of some kind and move on.

Tuesday we had our final Christmas celebration and this time with friends. Usually we have our catch up a couple of weeks before Christmas but this year was a wee bit different because there was a teeny tiny NEW baby in out midst. Baby Henry was due mid-December but born a couple of weeks early, and life was a bit up in the air for the new parents so we waited until they were feeling more comfortable. But it was worth the wait. What a gorgeous little soul he is. So handsome and so perfect.

I admit to having twinges of cluckiness for the future. Not right now, but he did stir something in me that I thought would be dormant for a while longer. I had a vision or an idea of what life could be like with 3 kids. Matt just completely has NO desire for a third, none whatsoever. I have always wanted 3, but after Ivy I felt like I was happy to either stick with 2 or wait until Ivy was around 4 or 5 before having another. And now that Ivy is approaching 3, I feel like sometime next year we need to start discussing it further and objectively (me) and emotionally (Matt). Matt sees it as too hard: bigger car, bigger house, more financial hardship. I see it as a purely emotional decision: I want to have a larger family, more grandkids and I want large family gatherings as I age. Christmas is certainly a time that reminds me strongly how much I want a large family around me.

But for now, no decisions can be reached because we both feel so strongly on either side of the spectrum. So we cuddle Henry and we remain happy and content with what he have. Which is a lot.

After a busy couple of days and one feral child and one tired child, we spent a blissful day at home. Doing nothing. It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was just what we needed. Playing with new toys and discovering just how much the children had been given from Santa and relatives.

Ivy had been given a box of dress-ups by my Mum, and it was topped up on Boxing Day with such treasures as those revolting plastic shoes, earrings and tiaras. All the usual stuff that sends little girls wild. Ivy was happy to wear the shoes briefly and then preferred to play with the jewellery box she got instead, putting her "jewels" into and out of it repetitively. I have to admit I was quietly a teensy bit pleased that she wasn't super interested in the princess dresses or barbie outfits. And preferred to wear the shoes with her tracky pants. It's nice to have her as a baby a little bit longer. As I have no doubt that the princess phase is not far away.

Christmas mkII. A long time ago it was decided that Matt's family would have their Christmas celebrations on boxing day, not only to save everyone further stress on the 25th but also so that we can enjoy each other's company for a whole day without having to rush off anywhere. It's become particularly pertinent as the kids have grown up and adore hanging out together.So this Christmas we had a 6yo, 5yo, 3yo and 2yo. Do you think they had a fun day? Yah.

Ooh ooh, I made my first ever choc ripple cake!! I thought it was going to be hard, but when I checked the recipe online before buying the ingredients I was like "HUH?" and checked about 3 other recipes to see if I was missing anything. No wonder it's an Aussie tradition - why wouldn't it be when it seriously has 2 ingredients???? It's a lazy man's dessert. Well, less lazy than buying a cake from a shop, but more lazy than making, say, a trifle or mud cake at home. Yippee for having the reputation as the NQR cook and ending up with the easy dishes! Yippee indeed!
So there was more presents and more food and more alcohol and more cricket. Oh and apparently there was also cricket on the tv, but you know, when it got to the Aussies all out for 98 or some such hogwash I stopped paying attention. There was also some very tired and emotional kids (Ivy being one of them - foul) after such a huge day the day before. But all in all, it's so nice to catch up with the fam and just sit and chill. I love this time of year.

MERRY CHRISTMAS FRIENDS!!
(caution: there is a lot of photos in this post!!)

Hope Santa was kind to one and all this year. As usual my kids were spoilt even though Santa tried to show some restraint.Elliot had come into our room during the night to sleep for a couple of hours because he'd had a nightmare that Santa didn't come because he didn't fall asleep. Even though he checked that Santa had in fact been by 2am he still wanted to climb in with us. Matt dragged him back to bed around 5am and then the kids slept until 7:30! YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!

The kids were excited and even though he was champing at the bit, Elliot was a gentleman and let Ivy open all her presents before he opened his (naww).


 This is what happens when you ask Ivy to sit with Elliot for a photo:
So after presents and breakfast and a mad panic to get out the door, we then spent the rest of Christmas Day at my parents house with relos incoming and outgoing for most of the day. The was more presents (too many for the kids of course), a ton of food, beverages, good cheer and some cricket. And good old Aunty Maude brings her random lucky dip presents which has become a favourite tradition of everyone's over the last 10 or so years!
(Yes, I realise it looks as though we are playing cricket in jail. We weren't. You just have to trust me.)


There was also some quiet reminiscing and remembering of my Nan, who passed away on Christmas Eve last year. My Pop was in quite good spirits considering, and we all made sure we gave him a special little cuddle. But besides the residual sadness around the edges of the day, it really was a fantastic day all round. We got home from Mum and Dad's around 10pm, so it must've been good!!!!!!

Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy the photos! There is only a few hundred ;-)
xox

Ahhh, the Christmas Eve manic panic. A stack of cooking required by me this year. On Christmas Eve I turned out: sugar cookies (well cooked them on the 23rd and iced them on the 24th), tomato and basil pasta salad and mini chocolate meringue tarts. YUM to all of the above.

This year besides the usual inside present division Santa decided to get the kids a trampoline so there was much banging and crashing and cursing as the thing was put together. THANKFULLY he had enlisted the help of an extra pair of hands with tools in the shape of Grandpa John, but even still it was a late night.

For some reason I didn't take any photos of the food for Santa and the reindeer this year as I usually do, I think I was just in such a rush to get the kids to bed. But Santa was left a glass of milk, some peppermint chocolate and a handful of grapes. Interesting combo. And Luna really really liked the milk. Due to supplies of carrots etc being low in our fridge the reindeer this year had to settle for oats and hand-picked grass (weeds lol) and we weren't sure if they liked to eat flowers or not so we put one of those in too.

After the kids went to bed Matt and I watched A Very Specky Christmas this year. Normally I insist on the Carols. Family tradition and all that. I have very strong and wonderful memories of watching the Carols in NSW with my cousins and thinking it was just the bees knees. It's taken me a long 20 years or so to realise they are actually very very boring. So this year we boycotted. Well, they went back on after Spicks and Specks but didn't pay much attention to it.

Made sure I also watched the Santa tracker online eagerly, and as soon as Santa hit Townsville around 12:30 or so, knew it was time to get into bed quick smart, lest the fat man decides to skip us......

Merry Christmas xox

The official start of Christmas holidays is the 23rd December. Matt gets home from work after a boozy lunch and me and the kids eagerly await him coming home. This year he was bit later because he had to help Santa with a pick-up and then I had to work at Village so it was a bit lame, but it still marked the beginning of our teensy tiny summer break.

After working on Tuesday night I came home at midnight dead tired and in desperate need for sleep. I stumbled through the house in the dark planning to go straight to bed - no checking facebook, no having a drink, no reading. Straight. To. Sleep.

Then I saw this sitting on the kitchen table, in the dark.

So of course I was intrigued as to what it was. Of course I had to turn on the light and have a sticky beak. And oh boy, what a trip I took!

It's Elliot's exit folder from child care. His last bastion of babyhood. He stopped going in about September, after he basically un-enrolled himself. He was only going once a week and that once a week was turning into a pain in the arse for both of us. He didn't want to go, he was bored, and he liked kinder better. I felt terribly guilty because all year I've been asking the teachers at child care to extend his learning as he was getting bored, and they'd just got to a place with him where they had set up an ongoing soccer style tournament and felt that they were starting to get him interested again. And then he quit. And I didn't fight it tooooo hard because, really, he's a smart boy and he knows his limits. What's the point of sending him at this stage when he's about to start school, he's getting his educational needs met at kinder, and his best friends are at kinder? It was becoming a drag. And he was getting sad and angry about going, which of course increases the mother guilt.

I quite liked having Tuesday afternoons KID FREE. Actually I more than liked it, I craved it. It was my one time a week when I had a decent stretch of alone time. I could get a heap of work done, and still have time for a nanna nap.

But I accepted his decision. He IS a smart boy, and for the most part makes good decisions, so I trusted him. I figured it would be nice also to have some one-on-one alone time before he started school. And even though I mostly still worked on Tuesday afternoons and occasionally had a nanna nap (that was the deal - he needs to deal with mummy still working/sleeping) we still hung out and did things just on our own every now and then.

And now that I've seen back through time is his chock-full folder of child care triumphs, I'm so glad that he's mine, all mine. He may have won a lot of hearts in his 4 years there, but they don't get to take him home at night and give him squishes, and tickles, and cuddles.

I'm going to miss him like air next year. But I might make sure he has a "mental health day" once a term that just happens to fall on Ivy's child care day ;-)

Because I'm slack (well, it is a busy time of year, come on) I now have no idea what I did on this day. So I'll just post a random photo instead, shall I?

So apparently I suck at doing a daily blog post. Well, what else is new really?!?? At least I'm doing them in retrospect :-p

On Sunday we had our Mothers Group Christmas celebration. In years gone by the celebration has also included the dads, so I made sure I trotted Matt along. He was happy to come, he enjoys the company of everyone in our group, and it's nice for him to see the mothers group kids growing and changing also. But when we turned up late (I fell asleep on the couch after the market and Ivy was still asleep when I woke from my snooze) there was no other dads there. One had been banished to a friend's house and the other was nursing a hangover (hee hee) and decided to do a spot of shopping. So I kicked Matt out. I told him to go out! He kind of looked at me in an incredulous way, like he couldn't believe I was turfing him out. But that's ok. He "got" it. Us mum's needed to chat. We needed to debrief. We needed to reconnect. And we did. In spades. In a short few hours we were feeling chipper and Christmassy. We'd talked about holiday play dates for the kids, and catch ups for the grown ups. We ate a ton of food and had a few drinkies. And the kids played like they'd never been apart.

It was super awesome. And reminds me exactly what Christmas is about.

Riot Photography, my other photography business with Sharon, was at the Eltham market yesterday. There are many things I love about markets... the colour, the gorgeous hand made stuff, the people, the dogs!! I had a nice day and photographed some bits and pieces in between chatting to potential clients.

The Eltham market is not as out there as some, it's mostly a craft and handmade goods market. So a lot of the things I also hate about markets is eliminated... the gross 2nd hand crap that no-one wants, the bargaining, the cheap and nasty and easily broken knick-knacks, etc.

Enjoy the photographic feast.

My goodness, in this busy time of year it is just so nice to sit still with friends and eat sandwiches and cake and drink cups of tea.
Isn't it?

  

In a couple of days we have our annual Mothers Group Christmas break up. But this year it doesn't feel like there is much to break up from. Well, for me anyway. In terms of mothers group gatherings it's been a quiet year. Last year and the preceding years it was a Friday ritual. We'd play swapsies at different houses. There would be copious amounts of caffeinated drinks (or non-caffeine for some), lunch, snacks, barnies amongst the kids, much laughter and tears.

It wasn't the mothers group I started out with. My original one dissipated after about 12 months, which is pretty good going I guess. I know some of the girls are still very firm friends and I'm so glad for them. But after I first met Brooke when our babies were 6 or 7 months old (or somewhere thereabouts) we pretty much clicked and became fast friends. Then over time I managed to weasel my way into her mothers group. Slowly slowly at first. You can't rush these things you see... But eventually I was welcomed as a full time member, I'd stepped up from a casual visitor. I don't remember exactly when or how it happened, but I fell so hard for these girls and their kids.

Their little nucleus that changed in number and eventually settled at 4. We talked about anything and everything. We were an institution. We turned up, week in week out and we loved it. It was my end of week celebration, I made it through another week without killing myself or my kids.

Eventually the morning teas became lunch. The lunch became all day. We'd hang out until we had to get home to partners wanting us. For the other girls it was a matter of simply walking down the street and in their doors. Not quite so simple for me, about a 5 min drive, but still no biggie.

After a time mothers group became more than a bunch of women with their children. To me they became my life source. During my miscarriages. When Ivy was born. Before I was diagnosed with PND and then after. Those women carried me through some of the darkest hours of my life. They cooked for me, supported me and cheered my triumphs. They cried with me and tended to my hurts. They were the best bunch of women anyone could hope to have in their group of mothers.

This year all our little May babies trotted off to kinder. Only the other kids went to a different kinder together and Elliot went elsewhere. Despite them all trying to get me enrol Elliot at the same kinder as the other kids, decided that it would be silly, seeing as they are 2 suburbs away.

This year our mothers group all but snuffed out. There were no more Fridays. There were no more long lunches with supportive and encouraging women waiting for me at the end of a long week. There was just a long long week stretching out in front of me, every single week. There were some times, mostly on school holidays, when we could organise ourselves to work around our varied schedules. But for the most part it obviously just wasn't the same. And couldn't be the same.

This weekend we are having a Christmas party. And it does feel like a break up of sorts. But I truly hope that once the kids are all settled in at school next year and on the same schedule that maybe we'll be able to have more catch-ups again.

I've missed them all so so much this year. So much.

 

Had a slump on day 15. Can't really explain it other than it was very reminiscent of slumps gone by. It involves getting lost driving somewhere, becoming really flustered and unable to see any way out of it other than going home.

I was supposed to be going out for dinner in the dreaded St Kilda. Hate driving there. And generally really dislike going there. But made an exception for the beautiful souls I was supposed to be dining with. Got lost. Got panicky, got teary and went home and felt sorry for myself.

But as I climbed into bed at 10pm for the first time in god knows how long, I realised just how funny the world works. You can find blessings in many places if you choose to see them. My gorgeous dinner that I didn't get to turned into a gloriously early night in bed with a book and helped recharge some of my batteries.

 

Tuesday night we went and saw Muse again. I saw them for the first time over 10 years ago at the Palace when they toured their first album Showbiz, and wow haven't they changed their shows!! From a dingy pub gig to a spectacular stadium concert. AMAZING. I've followed their career all the way through, seen them numerous times, and this time thought we'd give it a miss. Money is tight, we just can't go and see and do all the things we could pre-kids... But (luckily for us) some people very NAUGHTILY spoilt us and surprised us by getting us tix for Muse for xmas, and boy oh boy am I ever thankful.

Last day of kinder for Elliot. Forever and ever, no more. I thought I would be a mess, blubbering away, and yes I did shed a few tears, but held myself together surprisingly well.

Elliot, on the other hand, did not. He cried, no sobbed for 15 minutes straight. He was inconsolable. He'd been a bit sad in the lead up to kinder finishing, but nothing like this, and it shocked me!! After a while he started to calm down and then some of his gorgeous friends came out and said "Don't worry Elliot, we're going to see each other all the time next year!" and made him feel better. And I felt better because his friends are so wonderful and genuine. And then Mav told a joke and we all laughed and everything was ok.

Speaking to the teachers about it later they think it's because he's so damn smart. He KNOWS the ramifications of no more kinder. He knows that school is for the next 13 years and he'll be 18 by the time he finished. He knows too much. And that could also be the reason he is so reluctant to accept change. He always has trouble adjusting himself to change in anyway - if a tv show changes its timeslot, we get a new piece of furniture, he has to throw out undies that are too small (!!) he really struggles to deal with it.

Hopefully as he grows up he'll learn to cope a little better. No one wants to wear the same undies for all of eternity.

One thing I'm sad about losing, is my son's innocence. One time this year he was ribbed about wearing nail polish, to which Elliot came home from kinder and asked to have it taken off. It's the very first time I've seen him concerned about what other kids think about him, and succumb somewhat to peer pressure. Which I know is inevitable, and the fact that he got to 5 and a half before it bothered him is something that I am very proud of, as a mother. He is such an insightful little boy that when people say things like "boys don't wear nail polish" he just responds with something like, "Well, why not? I can if I want to". But it was still a dagger in my heart the day he came home and told me that. And I KNOW it only gets worse, and if wearing nail polish is the only thing he gets teased for, he'll come out of his schooling years relatively unscathed. But I wish his innocence wasn't stripped from him by other kids who have obviously had theirs stripped from them also.

SO, when one of his very best friends from kinder came over for a visit and Ivy and I were putting "colours" on our toes, the boys had no hesitation to have some on theirs. Because those 2 boys get each other. And they don't tease each other for wearing colours on their toes.

These 2 darlings finish are finishing kinder. Forever. And starting school together next year. I have NO doubt at all that they will be firm friends for a very long time to come. And that makes me so happy and grateful. To know that Elliot is embarking on his schooling years with a kind and caring soul beside him makes me so very glad.
I love how their t-shirts are colour co-ordinated with each other and their icecreams, heh heh.

* dizziness is not a major problem anymore, just the usual stuff if I'm dehydrated or hungry etc

* I'm really tired and de-motivated, but trying hard to fight through that

* my aches and pains are getting unbearable. One of the reasons I switched from zoloft to cymbalta was to help with my fibromyalgia. Since coming off it, I've noticed a steady increase in the amount of pain I'm waking up to in the morning. I'm popping a lot of Nurofen to try and get me through this busy few weeks and then I plan to tackle it in a more holistic way

* my moods have been surprisingly good. I'm been really emotional though, and teary at the drop of a hat, but usually more so with happy things rather than sad or depressing, which makes a NICE change

* I'm confident that I've done it. I've got through the come-down without wanting to kill myself, my husband or my children. I'm alive! Albeit somewhat sore, but I'm alive and drug-free and that makes me happy!

I can now say I'm an award winning photographer. It's just camera club, but it's a start right?

 Two part post from me today. Well one post and one photo with 2 sentiments.

#1) I love my job. I know I'm lucky to do something I truly love every single day. But if my job (whatever it may be) made me feel as dreary as the gentleman in the photo below, I'd be outta there before you could say "Ho ho ho". Either this guy really is a grinch, or he was just having a bad day.

#2) The annual Santa photo is something I look forward to and dread in equal measure. E-man just does his thing, says hello Santa, thank you Santa, CHEESE for the camera, thanks we're done dude. Ivy, well, um, she doesn't like Santa much. Going by the Santa in this photo it's not hard to see why. But as a holistic view, Santa's an alright kinda guy. He's jolly, and round and gives you presents. Why are kids so fearful of him?

Today's expedition was same-old same-old. Elliot did his thing and Ivy cried. And clung to me like a koala. In a crowded shopping centre I virtually forced my daughter to sit with this guy and have her photo taken. She doesn't like having her photo taken on the best of days, so well, the outcome was to be expected I suppose.

As I was in the middle of the ordeal, I made myself think of why I was doing this to her. And for a fleeting moment I almost gave up. Almost. Then I reminded myself why I do this to myself and my kids every single year. It's funny. It reminds me what my kiddies were like at that time in their lives. Whether they feared Santa or thought he was a complete dork. They can look back on the photos as adults and either be horrified or think it's hilarious. And above all  it will make for an entertaining 21st photo board.

Lover.

Elliot had his kinder concert tonight. A celebration of a year of triumphs. My wonderful son has grown and changed into a young man hardly recognisable as the child of 12 months ago. He has made some wonderful and (hopefully) lifelong friends this year. And so have I. He is a treasure to me. My heart and soul. My blood. I love him more than I could ever put into words.

Sometimes it's hard to explain the joy of children. They find it in the funniest places. Tonight at his concert, the smile rarely left Elliot's face. He had an absolute ball. The photo of him below is his purest happy self. As a 5 year old boy, it's very hard to take photos of him. We get angry faces, ridiculous faces, goonish faces (see here as a case in point: XMAS 2008)

But this photo. Wow. This snapshot speaks volumes. Look at his happy happy face. It's a tonic to me.


There really are some things that just can't be faked, no matter how hard you try. The pure, unadulterated joy of a child. And that child's joy added to her grandparents' pleasure. It's real, and you just can't replicate it. Ever.

A dear friend of mine was having her LAST chemo treatment today. Last one. Chemo free. Won't be long and she'll have a new fuzz on her beautiful head, and be able to enjoy beer again. So today, I babysat Emily for her. We ate junk food, went shopping, watched telly, and just hung out.

Sometimes it's way too easy to forget how good life really is.
Despite the similarities, Emily (blondie on left) and Ivy (blondie on right) are NOT related.

There are many things about myself that I acknowledge aren't fabulous. One of which is my Susie-Homemaker skills. Tonia Todman I ain't, that's for sure. I mean, I try hard and I have admirable intentions, but my attempts at anything domesticated usually go awry.

So all week I've been telling Elliot that we'll make chocolates for his kinder friends. We have the moulds, we have the gigantic block of Cadbury Dairy Milk, we're all set. How hard can it be? Apparently quite a bit harder than I thought, especially when the white choc became involved and then the coloured white choc. Seriously that stuff is a nightmare!

So we made a few moulds worth. Not enough for the kinder friends. All the while I'm thinking about the politics behind it - will some kids be upset if they get a smaller one? The first batch was ok, a little tricky, but manageable. The second batch was a complete pain - the coloured choc had gone hard. We ran out of white. I melted all the milk choc I had in the pantry to make up the difference, yet I still fell an agonising 6 chocolates short of the 25 required for kinder.

So I gave up. I'm eating the Santas and the Frostys tonight in front of the telly, and tomorrow morning I'm going to buy a bulk pack of Freddos for the kinder kids.
Chocolate uglies, anyone?

I have nice eyes. Granted they don't see very well. And they often have bags under them. And they are starting a droop a bit and get some lines around them. But they sparkle. They are alive. They are the window to my soul. And because of my eyes (and my husband's - credit where credit is due) my kids also have nice eyes. I accept my laugh lines, because they show how much I live and love, and my bags - they show how tired I can get with a business to run and 2 kids to look after. I accept my short-sightedness, it's inherited from previous generations of other beautiful souls. And I accept that there is something about myself that is beautiful. Sometimes I need reminding. But when that happens I just have to look right at my kids.

I'm beautiful.

This weather is a corker! I know the weather is kinda crazy everywhere in Australia at the moment, but for us Melbourne peeps it's really keeping us on our toes... which is saying something!

I went out my backdoor a little while ago to hang some clothes on the line and just had a little spin out. It's so tropical feeling it reminds me so much of our family holidays to the relos in NSW. Every summer holidays we'd load the Kingswood as high as we could and head north for a month. We'd stay with my Nanna and Poppy on the south coast, and be enveloped by loving hugs, home cooked meals and cakes, chooks, cows and gardens. We'd play backyard cricket, make up our own weird and wonderful games around the property, and just run wild and free. As a city kid it was so fantastic to have so much space to explore.

And we'd also bear witness to awesome storms and some wicked tropical weather. Every morning the grass would be wet and the air would be steamy. By midday it was usually so hot we spent the rest of the afternoon in the swimming pool, and by evening we'd witness another fabulous storm. In the country the lightning is quite something, zig-zagging all over the night sky with no buildings to get in the way of the view.

It is so atmospheric out my backdoor right now. Dark and light. Wet and warm. No cows, or chooks, but still it feels like summer to me. Is this what we can look forward to for the next 3 months? Less hot hot heat and more wet tropical heat? I don't care. I love summer.
Nanna, my cousin Jojo (the blondie) and me!

So far so good - 3 days ago (by the time I write this it's actually 4) I stopped taking my anti-depressant medication. It wasn't a premeditated decision, but one that I had been giving some thought to. I just ran out and didn't go back and get some more. I don't want to put all the pills in my body any more. I've decided to go down the natural route, one that I haven't tried in a long long time. The last time I tried a remedy from a naturopath I had to dissolve an egg in a glass of lemon juice (so all the calcium leached into the juice), let it sit in the juice for a few days and then drink it. Understandably it *soured* my view for some time (ha!). This time I'm going to try some fish oil and possibly some bee pollen.

So, 3 days in and my side effects or withdrawals have been fairly minor, much less than I expected. I have tingly lips though, which is bizarre, and some dizzy spells that have been a bit frightening. But other than that I feel pretty good. My anxiety is controllable and my moods are ok. So far ;-)

So after 2.5 years of chemicals, it's time to say farewell. Farewell to the drugs, farewell to the PND, farewell to the old me. And a big fat HELLOOOOOOO to a brand spankin new version of me, ready to hit 2011 full steam ahead.

This summer is going to be amazing. New perspectives. New love for my little family. And a new light in my eyes. I'm hoping to take a photo a day to document our lives, and how my journey is going on this new path. I hope you'll follow me and take delight in my new triumphs, of which there are sure to be many.

And if this particular photo doesn't scream new life at you, then, well pretty much nothing will.
baby bunny - 2 days old

Happy summer friends. Happy indeed.