But You're Fat.

You know this isn't a fluke, don't you? My neighbour says to me from across the fence, It's actually talent.

She's one of my life cheerleaders, always supporting me and offering words of wisdom from the sidelines.

I want to whole-heartedly believe her. Good things have been happening in my life of late. There is a little voice inside me though, that whispers: But you're fat.

I could find my soul mate {check}, live in the most beautiful country {check}, have a beautiful, healthy daughter {check}, be offered amazing opportunities {check}, have a wonderful family {check} and beautiful friends {check}.... heck I could even win the lotto, get the Nobel Peace prize, meet Oprah, watch Gaga perform, write a best selling book... and still have my life be tainted by the fact that all is not okay because I'm still.... fat.

There will always be that part of me that won't switch off. That little voice within that lingers and reminds me that although everything else is wonderfully perfect... it isn't quite right because my body isn't what I want it to be. Thin. Or at least thinner.

I'm happy, don't get me wrong. I'm the happiest I've ever been. I love my life, and everything it entails, but there's just that little niggle inside that likes to remind me that everything isn't 100% peachy. Because I'm fat.

I walk into the room, and it feels like home. Well, not home, but close enough to it. Have you been here before? the lady behind the table asks. I nod. I've been here before, in more ways than one.

I don't feel worried, or anxious. I know how this works and I'm filled with hope. I know that it works for me, it has in the past and I hope it can again. I step on the scales and I'm again part of the Weight Watchers journey.

You have a beautiful figure, a woman from behind me says, I don't know what you're doing here. You don't need to lose weight.

I know that she's not talking to me. But I smile. A smile of hope. Perhaps one day, somewhere, someone will mutter the same words to me.

Beans Means...

There was a knock at the door in the middle of day, which only means one thing. Parcels! I opened the door to see a burly courier with a dainty picnic basket in his hands. He looked a little uncomfortable and was eager to hot foot it out there, leaving the picnic basket behind.

Inside were some goodies from Edgell. Beans and things. I have grand plans for the goodies. The chick peas will be made into hommus, the four bean mix into healthy nachos and the red kidney beans into a yummy winter soup. And the beans and corn will be gobbled up by Lacey and I. Nom. Nom.

Edgell left a nice little note inside too, reminding me that legumes are natures superfood - a great source of protein and filled with nutrients. They're a cheap alternative to read meat, and pretty darn versatile too.

I just need to hide them from Hubby... because we all know... beans, beans, good for you heart, the more you eat the more you.... {we all know how that ends}.

Sun Flare And Frocks.

I saw this photo and I gasped, isn't it beautiful?

What is one thing that has made you smile today? What is making you happy on this Thursday?

Me? Well this photo for one. And Hubby sent me through some photos of Miss Lacey having fun... and at first they made me teary, but they're also making me smile...

Happy Thursday. xx

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Beautiful Stories.

When I was pregnant, I couldn't get enough of real birth stories. I would find them online, print them out and read them before I went to sleep at night. I wanted to read through the pain, the gore and then get to the good part... the arrival of the new baby. I would cry as I read them, stories of how these beautiful women met their little people for the very first time, and how that felt. I couldn't wait for my own experience. I couldn't wait to feel that love that these women spoke of. It was magical, and I wanted in on it.

My friend Kelly recently shared her beautiful birth story with me over at Kidspot. She waited five heart-aching years for her beautiful girl, and she was so worth the wait. You can read her story here.

I hope you're having a lovely Wednesday. I'll off to do that radio interview now. Eek. It's pre-recorded so once I figure out when it's on, I'll let you know. x

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Sleep Deficit.

I've been so tired, for so long... I forget what it feels like to have consistent nights of good, quality sleep. I forget what it feels like to jump into bed at night, and know that you're just going to get sleep, all the way until the morning. I forget what it feels like to not have a little person kicking me in the side all night, or waking up crying, "Mama" a few times a night.

Until now. Hubby and Lacey have taken off on a little holiday to see Nanna & Pop Pop, and I've been left to work and sleep. Both of which I'm enjoying doing on my own. I cried at the airport as I said goodbye. I feel sad when I see cute little kids. I miss her little kisses, and his big cuddles. But oh my... this sleep... is amazing.

I'm writing this post from bed, where I woke up just 30 minutes ago. I went to sleep last night, and I didn't stir until this morning when I woke. To anyone else, this is most probably the most boring post ever, but to me... this is wonderful!

How did you sleep last night? Are you owed years of sleep? Are you in sleep deficit?

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52 Week Project: Twenty Eight.

This snap is from last weekend. I tell you, this self portrait business has changed the way I think. I see a mirror, and I think of different ways to get a self portrait. There was a mirror near the bed at the place we stayed, so I popped the camera on the bed, set the self-timer and snapped away. I think Lacey thinks I'm weird. I hope nobody tells her that I actually am. Eeek. I'm sure she'll figure it out when she's a fully fledged teenager and I'm embarassing her left, right and centre.

What If.

The taxi waited for me outside. As I opened the front door I hesitated. I ran back in and scoured the room. I needed something. Something small. Something that would remind me. Something I could sneak inside my handbag.

And there it was. A small bracelet she'd made from buttons the day before. As she slept I snuck it inside my handbag's front pocket and ran into the dark of the early morning.

I sat in the back of the taxi, and wiped tears from my eyes. The what ifs ran through my mind. What if I never saw them again? What if something happened whilst I was up in the sky? What if I never got to saw her grow into an adult? What if...

The what ifs are dangerous. They start at one not-so-dark place, and then submerge themselves in the utterly murky. I've always been like this, filled with what ifs.

I cried when my mum went on holidays. I cried when she was sick with a hangover. I cried when I'd go to school camp {even when I was too old for tears}. The what ifs had control of me.

And now, as a mama {and a wife}, they had a firm grasp on me. Not all the time. Just when goodbyes are involved. Just when we have to cut that invisible umbilical cord. Life is precious. Special. I struggle to let go.

Throughout the day I stumbled across the button bracelet as I went about my day, away from her. As I placed my sunglasses in my bag it brushed against my hand, I smiled. It almost fell out as I grabbed my purse to pay for a drink, I smiled. As I reached inside my bag for plane ticket and it jingled, I smiled.

When I arrived home she was fast asleep, cuddled up like a teeny baby in our big bed. I kissed her soft cheek, and said good night. Good night to my baby in the and of sleep slumber, and good night to the what ifs. Until next time.