tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77615641610123587322024-02-19T16:52:39.558+10:00Perfect Enough For UsLife is not meant to be perfect, but it is perfect enough for us.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-8722572638350882802015-01-01T06:18:00.001+10:002015-01-01T06:19:24.403+10:00We have moved<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hi Everyone,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I cannot thank you enough for you continued support throughout the development of Perfect Enough For Us. I am completely overwhelmed by the response we have had.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is because of this that we decided to move our site to a more stable and robust environment. As well as ensuring that the site is easier to use and in my opinion quite pretty.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You can find us at our new home <a href="http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/">here</a>:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/">www.perfectenoughforus.com</a></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thank you again for your amazing support. Remember, once at the new page, subscribe to our mailing list so you can keep up to date on the latests posts and please leave your comments and let us know what you think about the new look. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Happy New Year and I hope 2015 brings you absolute joy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Krystal</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-74385292927765732052014-12-27T19:04:00.000+10:002014-12-27T19:04:33.711+10:00My body after pregnancy (the hot mess it is)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In my early twenties I took a lot of pride in my appearance.
At the age of 23 I was a self-confessed gym junkie. I would be at the gym by
5:30am (as soon as they opened) and would work out for an hour. I’d then shower
and get ready for work before setting off for my 12 hour shift. After I
finished work at 7pm I would then head back to the gym for around another hour
or two, depending on what classes they had on offer and how many calories I had
already managed to burn. It was the first time in my life that I actually
started to like my body. I realised I had control over how it looked and was
determined to not only make it look good, but to ensure it was strong and
athletic too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By the age of 25 I started to realise the balance between
food and exercise and realised that I didn’t have to work out as much and was
actually a lot healthier if I ate better as well. At this time I was trying to
fall pregnant so holistic health was at the forefront of my priorities. I still
kept up regular gym sessions and watched everything I ate. As far as body image
goes I thought I had a fairly positive one, there were things I didn’t like
about my body and wanted to change but I didn’t despise the way I looked. There
were also a lot of things I liked about my body – I loved my boobs, loved how
strong my legs were and the muscle definition they had, I loved my stomach and
the abs that were showing and I loved my arms and how strong they were.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I fell pregnant I was so excited to see my tummy swell
and take shape as the life inside of me grew. Little did I realise what was
ahead of me. During my first trimester I had Hyperemesis Gravidarum, a
condition described as extreme morning sickness. I lost around 7kg and looked
pale, gaunt and ghostly. My pregnancy was sucking every bit of energy from me.
After week 12 I finally started to feel a little better and was able to start
putting on weight. By the end of my pregnancy I had only gained 10kg above my
pre-pregnancy weight. I loved the way my body looked while I was pregnant, and
as an added bonus I never had to worry about feeling bloated because you could
never tell with a pregnant belly! Woohoo! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQytdYCWLxFvs8FCXeghTWO_-6tLlxBSeJdUSEUayN-A-qX21GcUjL3a6t7ajSMF4n2TxOJfmDk3SlAVUmUvC0IfUM5n5alAKV0LF-v6f3GI6Lql7l8anOGelvDYXakISWtydMut_RFUc/s1600/IMG_20140625_124628.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Do you love your post baby body? I do! Sure there are lump and bump and squidgy bits that were never there before but my body is amazing. My body carried life and nourished my son until he was born, and now, 18 months later, is still providing nourishment for him. Give credit to your post baby body! It is amazing. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQytdYCWLxFvs8FCXeghTWO_-6tLlxBSeJdUSEUayN-A-qX21GcUjL3a6t7ajSMF4n2TxOJfmDk3SlAVUmUvC0IfUM5n5alAKV0LF-v6f3GI6Lql7l8anOGelvDYXakISWtydMut_RFUc/s1600/IMG_20140625_124628.jpg" height="400" title="Do you love your post baby body? I do! Sure there are lump and bump and squidgy bits that were never there before but my body is amazing. My body carried life and nourished my son until he was born, and now, 18 months later, is still providing nourishment for him. Give credit to your post baby body! It is amazing. " width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Pregnant with Alexander 35 weeks</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After I gave birth to my gorgeous little man I started to
see the massive changes that had taken place in my body. My once toned and firm
stomach was now squishy and soft, my once perky boobs were becoming engorged
with milk and I could feel the skin itch as it was stretching (I knew stretch
marks wouldn’t be too far behind) and my once strong body now was feeling the
effects of not going to the gym for months. But you know what? I have never
loved my body more. Sure, there were times where I looked at my stomach and
wished to see the abs I had before, but this body carried life. This body had
now achieved way more than it could ever achieve in any gym session. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, 18 months later, I still have a squishy tummy, I have
diastasis recti that refuses to heal, my boobs have shrunk and sunken and
resemble something more like elongated ski slopes now and who has that much
time for the gym with a toddler to chase after? I have never been more proud of
my body and what it can do. I am still breastfeeding my son, 18 months later. I
have lost and gained my milk supply over and over again. My body is amazing. To
be honest, I’m even a little sad that the few stretch marks I had on my tummy
are starting to fade – they were a beautiful reminder that I carried my perfect
little man inside of me for 9 months. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So to all the mums out there who shy away from their stretch
marks, huff over the few extra kilograms they are carrying around or sing the
ode to their once perky boobs, just remember, you body is amazing. You are
amazing. Take some time to truly think about what your body has achieved and
stop being so hard on yourself. There’s so much to love about you.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Let us know what you love about yourself, whether it’s post
baby or not, there’s a whole lot to love. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-76888443010145469682014-12-24T07:12:00.000+10:002014-12-24T07:12:14.879+10:00The most perfect Gingerbread biscuits<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Every year, as Christmas approaches (at what seems like the
speed of light) I become more and more excited about all of the gorgeous
decorations and all of the delicious food! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For me Christmas food isn’t limited
to December 25</span><sup style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">th</sup><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">. Christmas is an event, to be celebrated over many
days, to remind us to appreciate everything we have, everyone we have and just
how lucky we are to live the way we do.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of my most favourite Christmas treats are Gingerbread
biscuits (or cookies, whatever you want to call them, they are delicious). I’d
love to be able to make one of the gorgeous gingerbread houses but I assure
you, I am no Martha Stewart and decorating is not my forte. This biscuits can
be enjoyed on their own or iced with royal icing that you can dye in any colour
you want to make your festive treats come to life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So here it is, the most perfect recipe for the most perfect
gingerbread biscuits.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ingredients</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3 cups of plain flour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 cup of caster sugar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">½ cup of brown sugar<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3 teaspoons of ground ginger<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 teaspoons of ground cinnamon<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 teaspoon of mixed spice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 teaspoon of bicarb soda<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">200g butter (melted)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 tablespoon golden syrup<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 eggs (lightly beaten)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Method</span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mix all sifted dry ingredients into a large bowl. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Add all wet ingredients into a bowl.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pour wet mix into dry mix and combine. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Knead mixture together and flatten out into a disc shape.
Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate for 20 minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Remove from fridge and using a surface and rolling pin
lightly dusted with flour roll out mix to around 4mm thick.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Using cookie cutters, cut out shapes. Remove excess dough from
around the shapes then use a spatula to move shapes to a baking tray lined with
baking paper. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Knead and roll out remaining dough and repeat above step
until no dough is left.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Bake in oven at 180<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;">°</span></b><span style="color: black;">C for 10 minutes. If you’d like your biscuits to be crunchy then bake a
few minutes longer. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Remove from oven and allow to
completely cook before icing (or alternatively eat them warm as they come out
because they are absolutely delicious).</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj176QwRbYwXshnWd8SO5iwLyG-Lbweldq3SCnzoymvfP3yJ8fexJk_5Z55oAdpRkvNr0aQnX0G_Bq8rlZJPWD0rh_6-lXlRoqfhTazGpeJEdSEXYXbzUwwAG25d-bcCe8Hp2W0CKRiztI/s1600/DSC_8743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj176QwRbYwXshnWd8SO5iwLyG-Lbweldq3SCnzoymvfP3yJ8fexJk_5Z55oAdpRkvNr0aQnX0G_Bq8rlZJPWD0rh_6-lXlRoqfhTazGpeJEdSEXYXbzUwwAG25d-bcCe8Hp2W0CKRiztI/s1600/DSC_8743.JPG" height="213" title="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Add all the dry ingredients together</i> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLLZ7E21bRVPgjYug3TL7NfVLQZ3ghnVRfZp2AVTZ_QzPqVv44Pv5hgJ7RsaIpnl49cJXai-1WnnZZwOdwYdzOKPb5ko6WN7arjzq_FzXuK5pOIn3CQxPGbLmDFFviLIPChWUdJevwBU/s1600/DSC_8737.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikLLZ7E21bRVPgjYug3TL7NfVLQZ3ghnVRfZp2AVTZ_QzPqVv44Pv5hgJ7RsaIpnl49cJXai-1WnnZZwOdwYdzOKPb5ko6WN7arjzq_FzXuK5pOIn3CQxPGbLmDFFviLIPChWUdJevwBU/s1600/DSC_8737.JPG" height="213" title="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Mix in all the wet ingredients (and taste test)</i> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyjKVgDS_3fSFzofXTAu5tr6RkGIqWrIXvAvJC3NyxAaRVJzqmb8V6WQ9oxgVRhZDuT8FyhqGVGg6lWPkivZ-QBmmbPTVhnAuAb4y-4Ux2YK3ua57Oig_z5n0f2N6D8xSuqCnbjTUJiNs/s1600/DSC_8746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyjKVgDS_3fSFzofXTAu5tr6RkGIqWrIXvAvJC3NyxAaRVJzqmb8V6WQ9oxgVRhZDuT8FyhqGVGg6lWPkivZ-QBmmbPTVhnAuAb4y-4Ux2YK3ua57Oig_z5n0f2N6D8xSuqCnbjTUJiNs/s1600/DSC_8746.JPG" height="213" title="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Roll out dough onto a board lightly dusted in flour</i> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeuvY_kZOIuv-FUUAJ8sOnw8QJe2vZUxc_P3LTuYY7CwWSFATk9UGNefVTL4KBadH5q4WwhSkUdKGbor6ibWZ09A0LScuodtQXWmzRJbnjuL-F5IvuqawTbBcNb4qActuTPiQbtTbcWg/s1600/DSC_8750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeuvY_kZOIuv-FUUAJ8sOnw8QJe2vZUxc_P3LTuYY7CwWSFATk9UGNefVTL4KBadH5q4WwhSkUdKGbor6ibWZ09A0LScuodtQXWmzRJbnjuL-F5IvuqawTbBcNb4qActuTPiQbtTbcWg/s1600/DSC_8750.JPG" height="213" title="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Cut into shapes</i> </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVzYg15VYNT6iaVoscp7h6AWln8rdApID-f8-XD4Goicxcb3Z4UvOnbrtgoSBdxLn9-QniDmEZiYlbwjQwGD7ayGLJAWPvWOh8JlkPDfxOIeLbPmhkYS-ZCliqfa298uoERhiN6fERVqk/s1600/DSC_8755.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVzYg15VYNT6iaVoscp7h6AWln8rdApID-f8-XD4Goicxcb3Z4UvOnbrtgoSBdxLn9-QniDmEZiYlbwjQwGD7ayGLJAWPvWOh8JlkPDfxOIeLbPmhkYS-ZCliqfa298uoERhiN6fERVqk/s1600/DSC_8755.JPG" height="213" title="The most perfect gingerbread biscuits ever - enjoy on their own or iced with royal icing. Bake a little longer if you want them crunchy. This is the perfect Christmas treat to share, give away as gifts or to keep all for yourself. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Bake and enjoy</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Let me know what your favourite
Christmas treats are in the comments section below. I hope everyone enjoys this
recipe and has an amazing Christmas with the ones they love.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-24906351289426161432014-12-20T20:40:00.000+10:002014-12-20T20:40:51.333+10:00Last minute gift ideas for kids (that aren't toys)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We all know what the last minute Christmas rush is like. I
don’t know about you but regardless of how organised or well prepared I think I
am, there is always a Christmas Eve dash for gifts to fill stockings or to add
to other presents. Now that I am a mum I am learning just how many toys
children receive as gifts. Alexander’s birthday is in June and we still have a
cupboard full of gifts that we are slowly bringing out one at a time so he can
actually play with and enjoy them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As Christmas approaches, way too quickly, I have been
searching around for gifts for kids that aren’t toys. I have nieces and nephews
too and I know they all have plenty of toys to keep them occupied so I’d rather
give something a little different. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So here is a list of alternatives that I have come up with
for presents for kids.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">1 – Movie Tickets – who doesn’t love a good day out at the
movies? Tickets are quite expensive now so going to the movies is a real treat.
Perfect gift to keep on hand for rainy days or school holidays. Movie tickets
usually last around 12 months and you can sometimes buy actual tickets or a
gift card for a specified amount allowing for extras like popcorn and drinks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 – Books – I add books to this list because in no way do I
believe they fall under the banner of toys. Books are a gift that lasts a
lifetime. I still have a collection of books from my childhood and absolutely
treasure them. Alexander has a lot of book collections, such as Dr Seuss and
Roald Dahl and whenever friends or family have children the first thing we
purchase for them is usually a book collection. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HuzsGdk5BLpxsw7hLcI8A57lQkcViG47oqAaHA5AQ0xRox-0ltnbNsFTIyKFh2cH9nX0RKhooaDIoW1jwyTDjQxwm-vwFK_gEa1_RYFK4Edmd4_qw1CllxCIy8Y70lhq0jMRflQbhJ0/s1600/DSC_8714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Dr Seuss has an amazing collection of books right from very basic books with just a few words on each page to more advanced paragraphs. Dr Seuss books are always positive and our absolute favourite is 'Oh The Places You'll Go'" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HuzsGdk5BLpxsw7hLcI8A57lQkcViG47oqAaHA5AQ0xRox-0ltnbNsFTIyKFh2cH9nX0RKhooaDIoW1jwyTDjQxwm-vwFK_gEa1_RYFK4Edmd4_qw1CllxCIy8Y70lhq0jMRflQbhJ0/s1600/DSC_8714.JPG" height="219" title="Dr Seuss has an amazing collection of books right from very basic books with just a few words on each page to more advanced paragraphs. Dr Seuss books are always positive and our absolute favourite is 'Oh The Places You'll Go'" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Books are a timeless gift that everybody loves. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3 – Tickets to a Zoo or Theme Park – Give an adventure as a
gift. If there is a Zoo or Theme Park within driving distance then this is a
great gift. Usually family passes can be purchased so this can even be a gift
for the whole family. Again, most tickets are valid for up to 12 months so it
gives plenty of time to prepare and arrange a day to go. There is so much to
see and do at these places, this gift will be a hit with everyone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">4 – Animal Encounters – Some Zoo’s offer hands on time with
the animals. We live a few hours from Australia Zoo which has an amazing array
of animal encounters available. I’ve received these as gifts before and have been
able to walk a Cheetah, feed a Lemur and pat a White Rhinoceros. For smaller
children there are encounters with Dingo’s, Wombats and various farmyard
animals available too. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">5 – Adopt an Animal – Keeping with the above theme, some
Zoo’s offer the ability to ‘adopt’ an animal. For a small fee you can ‘adopt’
an animal for a year and the money you pay goes towards helping maintain their
enclosure and care for the animal. You usually are given a certificate and a
picture of the animal so children can take it to school for show and tell and
display it proudly at home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">6 – Music Lessons – Some children would love the opportunity
to learn how to play an instrument but music lessons can be quite expensive. If
you have a child that is musically inclined then there is always the ability to
give friends and family the option of purchasing lessons for your little one to
learn their desired instrument. Before you know it you’ll have a heap of
lessons paid for in advance and your child will be so excited as each lesson
passes and they learn more and more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">7 – Craft Supplies – Children love to be creative. There are
so many different craft supplies available now and with the help of Pinterest,
the possibilities and ideas of craft projects are endless. You can also go a
little further and add in storage and organisation units for craft supplies.
Steve came up with a great idea to organise ours – he purchased a tool box and
set each section out at the length needed to store various crayons, pencils and
pens. Now it’s easy access them and even easier to keep them sorted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpf4ap_wnkughJqYdAF0XlqPZYHqbELtSWgiocXyBMiiyxYjNM_PeXVeIQY0mFsVF3GN9T5fqwFJaDTrCltszD9Gq4RIx0W5vHipH6hHgEEqgjr9a8IfATr1OZ7rdsXcq7RZMvwmLVUw0/s1600/20141220_072955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="A great idea to store and organise your craft supplies is to use a tool box or a tackle box. They are significantly cheaper and often come with little inserts that allow you to customise the dimensions of each compartment. We use a small tool box to store the array of pens, pencils and crayons we have. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpf4ap_wnkughJqYdAF0XlqPZYHqbELtSWgiocXyBMiiyxYjNM_PeXVeIQY0mFsVF3GN9T5fqwFJaDTrCltszD9Gq4RIx0W5vHipH6hHgEEqgjr9a8IfATr1OZ7rdsXcq7RZMvwmLVUw0/s1600/20141220_072955.jpg" height="320" title="A great idea to store and organise your craft supplies is to use a tool box or a tackle box. They are significantly cheaper and often come with little inserts that allow you to customise the dimensions of each compartment. We use a small tool box to store the array of pens, pencils and crayons we have. " width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Store pens, pencils and crayons in a tool box or tackle box. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">8 – Dress Up Costumes – The imagination of children never
ceases to amaze me. The stories and fantasies they come up with are absolutely
fantastic. Dress up costumes allow the children to use their imagination and
the possibilities are endless. Most cheap shops sell different costumes and
accessories so there is no need for this to be an expensive present by any
means. You could always purchase a few different options and let the children
take control of their play time, then sit back and watch their imaginations
unfold. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">9 – Pool Pass – it’s summer here in Australia and Australian
summ</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ers are </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">hot. </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As kids my Nan would
give us a pool pass for Christmas and we thought it was absolute gold. It gave
us endless admissions for summer and we would spend every chance we had there.
This would still be possible in cooler climates with pools that are heated and
have climate control. Swimming lessons are always a great option to accompany this
too. It is vital that children know how to swim and how to be safe around water
and swimming lessons teach them this while they have fun. It’s a win/win
situation.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So there’s a few last minute ideas for Christmas presents
that not only won’t break your budget but will offer a fantastic alternative to
the usual toys we find ourselves gravitating towards.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What non-toy presents are you giving your children this
year?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-68349011474489642382014-12-18T19:54:00.000+10:002014-12-19T08:55:24.279+10:00How to say NO to drama<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In keeping along the same lines as my previous story, this
post is dedicated to the kind of people who always seem to have some sort of
drama surrounding them. You know the ones I’m talking about – they are the
person who you ask ‘how are you?’ and you can never get a simple answer. It’s
always something along the lines of ‘well you wouldn’t believe what <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">so and so</i> did to me’ or ‘didn’t you
hear? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">So and so</i> has done this and now
I’m <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">some sort of victim</i>.’ They are
the people who always have something going wrong, are always disadvantaged by
something in some way and everything is always someone else’s fault. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg10nP3l4awV2cEZj_YWoqA-M0E9HCt2RnAPDd4kQ1gVcHIlWPsouWCltHTt2w1KbVWbkXSc8In30auhQtcFF4ne7rBq56xT4iDalnDpw-SPdYQMEZopBbIQLddsKAe_rLpMJbHzyMjqI/s1600/ABM_1418812036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Say NO to Drama - We all know someone who thrives on drama. How much of their drama do you allow into your life? Do you know how to say no? Learn how to turn someone else's drama into your success. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg10nP3l4awV2cEZj_YWoqA-M0E9HCt2RnAPDd4kQ1gVcHIlWPsouWCltHTt2w1KbVWbkXSc8In30auhQtcFF4ne7rBq56xT4iDalnDpw-SPdYQMEZopBbIQLddsKAe_rLpMJbHzyMjqI/s1600/ABM_1418812036.jpg" height="320" title="Say NO to Drama - We all know someone who thrives on drama. How much of their drama do you allow into your life? Do you know how to say no? Learn how to turn someone else's drama into your success. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know you know someone like this. I know you also try to
avoid people like this. They are exhausting. Despite how nice they may be to
you, they consume so much time and energy and that’s why they don’t have very
many close friends at all. If there is no obvious drama currently in their
lives, they start making things up and creating drama because they struggle to
function without it. It is their life source; it is what drives them and feeds
them. Without drama, they simply don’t know what to do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, for some of us, we cannot avoid these people.
They integrate themselves into our lives and despite every effort we make, we
still have to deal with them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’ve got a particularly dramatic one devoted to entwining
herself in every aspect of my life at the moment. She puts so much effort into
taking a swipe at me from every direction she can, whether it is using people
we both happen to know, using her kids or even having her solicitor send
letters (for some reason she thinks that by putting something in writing it
makes it so…). She is the kind of person who has always gotten her way, manipulated
people into doing what she wanted and failing that, used her parents money to
buy her way through life. It seems in all her years she has yet to learn that
money cannot buy class or happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So after her latest attempt at attacking me it made me
think, ‘What impact is she actually having on my life?’ To be honest, she has
had more of a positive effect than she could ever know. She is so intent on
brining me down that she wouldn’t even realise that her efforts are actually
building me up. Each time she makes some half minded attempt to thwart me in
some way it gives me this overwhelming drive and determination to do better and
to be better and to prove that I will not let anyone stand in the way of my
happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Reflecting on it even more, it has been directly after the
times that she has made attacks at me that I have achieved the most. I have set
up this blog, written posts I am incredibly proud of and driven more traffic
here than I ever thought possible. While I am sure I would have achieved all of
this without the drama, it has been because of the negativity that I have been
determined to be the best I can be. It has made me take more control of my life
and what I want. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will meet her negativity with nothing but a positive
attitude and be happy while she thrives only on others misery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will not allow her, or anyone else, to stop me from doing
what I want to do in life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">say NO to
drama!!!<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We have a choice when it comes to the people in our lives
that thrive on drama. We can both encourage and feed their drama, giving in to
their idle threats and allowing them to intimidate us. Or… we can use their
drama to fuel our motivations, we can prove to them that our lives can be happy
and drama free and we can chase our dreams regardless of what anyone says.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How do you deal with drama? Leave your comments below and
let me know your tips and tricks on how you deal with the dramatic people in
your life.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-33331881870708191202014-12-15T21:03:00.000+10:002014-12-19T08:56:38.804+10:00Who is holding you back?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It has been a massive leap for me to create this blog and
make my life public. I have spent the last 18 months or so hiding any form of
personal information I could. I had even deleted my Facebook account, made any
other social media account private and cut off a lot of people I knew. In doing
so I thought I was protecting myself, my relationship with Steve and more
importantly, Alexander. There was so much negativity around I didn’t want it to
weave its way through my life again when I had just used so much energy in
eradicating it in the first place. What I realised was that hiding myself from
the world was preventing me from doing things I wanted to do, keeping me from
making my dreams and ideas a reality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had tried to write a few different blogs before, however
when I created them I over-edited. I didn’t want people to know too many details
about my life and I was a little scared of putting myself out there. I didn’t
know if what I had to say was interesting enough, I didn’t know if I could
write well enough and I seriously lacked self-confidence. Prior to my
relationship with Steve, when it came to following dreams and achieving goals
my support network was largely self-generated. I never really opened up to my
family and being in a relationship that was emotionally abusive and
manipulating eroded any self-confidence I once had. I was, in a way, ashamed of
my life and how I had become so reliant on someone who did nothing but tear me
down. The most difficult part was that to anyone watching on we looked like a
normal, happy and healthy couple – he exuded a sort of superficial charm and for
the most part appeared to be the doting, loving and supportive husband. It was
behind the scenes where the damage was done. What started out as little snide
remarks and subtle put downs eventually turned into outright denigration. I had
so many ideas for businesses, ventures and hobbies, none of which came to
fruition because I had taken from me the self-confidence needed to pursue my
dreams. I finally built up the drive needed to escape this toxic relationship I
was in, but repairing my sense of self and positive attitude towards my place
in the world took some time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The turning point is a complicated story, but a story
nonetheless. I came into contact with a woman who inspired me, who had a
similar past experience to me and who had overcome any set backs to put herself
and her several successful businesses out there. She now uses her experience to
coach others in making their business dreams come true. I thought to myself ‘if
she can put herself out there, then why can’t I?’ I realised I was allowing my
past to hold me back from creating a bright and successful future for myself. How
can I let these people indirectly stop me from achieving my goals and following
my dreams when the reason they are in my past is because they have nothing
positive to contribute to my future? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqR57tHdIlfvkn2Rbu1fOHkSkLA9xbP6T-93yv-aHshuN1AtNePmHmniB9jEuNYZ_zu2ZmBqw1NDPVMtHYNRJe5PCyK0Z5r51bLFawNDE8wENFYmLrnLpzgRifefcP0UXi44zRtqfHO8/s1600/ABM_1418638728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Past or Future - Which direction are you heading in? Are you allowing your past to hold you back from your future. Read about how I learnt to let my past go and embrace my future. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWqR57tHdIlfvkn2Rbu1fOHkSkLA9xbP6T-93yv-aHshuN1AtNePmHmniB9jEuNYZ_zu2ZmBqw1NDPVMtHYNRJe5PCyK0Z5r51bLFawNDE8wENFYmLrnLpzgRifefcP0UXi44zRtqfHO8/s1600/ABM_1418638728.jpg" height="320" title="Past or Future - Which direction are you heading in? Are you allowing your past to hold you back from your future. Read about how I learnt to let my past go and embrace my future. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i>Which direction are you heading in?</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then it all started falling into place. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The ideas started to flow… and kept going. I knew the
stories I wanted to tell and I knew how I wanted to do it. I launched myself
into learning everything I could about blogging and what I needed to do to get
my site up and running, and running well. I am still learning, it is a whole
new language and at times it makes me wonder why I am doing it, but then I see
how many people are visiting my site or I see my site transforming and coming
together and experience a massive sense of achievement. I couldn’t do any of
this without the support I have from Steve and my family. Steve has been more
encouraging and supportive than I could have ever asked for. He encourages me
to keep going, helps me when trying to understand and writing html frustrates
me, cleans and maintains the house when my head is busy buried in my laptop and
tops up my glass of wine at night. I was a little hesitant in telling my family
about this blog, I wasn’t sure how they would react. My Mum has been nothing
but encouraging to me throughout my life, but she is also a realist and lets me
know when she thinks an idea won’t work or if she thinks it may be a waste of
time (she doesn’t realise she lets me know this however after many years I have
learnt to read her body language and can tell when she doesn’t approve of
something). When I told my Mum I didn’t know what to expect. I was so happy
when she smiled and told me she thought it was a great idea. My parents and my
brothers have been amazingly supportive, reading my posts and letting me know
what they think. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I cannot believe how lucky I am.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Reflecting on all of this I realised that I have had Steve
and my family supporting me for quite some time now. The only thing that was
holding me back was </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">me</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and my hang
ups on what I did or didn’t want people to know. It took an inspiring woman to
make me realise that I couldn’t let my past hold me back from my future. I am
wondering… how many people are letting someone else hold them back from what
they really want in life? What are your goals? What are you dreams? Are you
moving towards achieving them? If not… then who is holding you back?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-36026320041236083402014-12-11T20:42:00.000+10:002014-12-19T08:59:56.082+10:00I could never do your job...<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I find it interesting when people say to me ‘oh I could
never do your job’. As a paramedic, a lot of people assume my job involves
saying lives day in and day out, going to horrible car wrecks and being there
at peoples worst possible moments. While this is part of the job, this
certainly isn’t the majority. There is a lot of waiting around. It’s not
exactly the kind of job where you can go and create work to do. In that waiting
time we make sure we are up to date with our skills and knowledge; there is
constant study and revision. Medicine changes, all the time. There is always
more research being done to help us do our jobs better.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLcI3cqz977pY2t5NNd4aYTxYxTOKqIM_t3vqGusyAaafG8Tu-EUBAqO8OGE5Ghjd4oJlJQUudFcXfgTxOvTkxasXqGGNrD-0ZVrMH3SfX94M7gUFnpgaKrrgCdEoOgNxJn7Brl8v9Es/s1600/IMG_20141211_142321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="As a Paramedic I am often told 'I could never do your job.' Jus like any other occupation, I have good days and bad days. In this job however the bad days are horrendous but the good days are what keeps me coming back for more. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLcI3cqz977pY2t5NNd4aYTxYxTOKqIM_t3vqGusyAaafG8Tu-EUBAqO8OGE5Ghjd4oJlJQUudFcXfgTxOvTkxasXqGGNrD-0ZVrMH3SfX94M7gUFnpgaKrrgCdEoOgNxJn7Brl8v9Es/s1600/IMG_20141211_142321.jpg" height="320" title="As a Paramedic I am often told 'I could never do your job.' Jus like any other occupation, I have good days and bad days. In this job however the bad days are horrendous but the good days are what keeps me coming back for more. " width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So a typical day for me at work, like today, involves me
rushing to drop Alexander to day care then get to work by 7am. I stock my
vehicle for the day with items I may need, drugs I may need to use and
equipment that could be required. I call over the radio to our communications
centre to let them know that my vehicle is operational and that I am here and
ready to go. Then I wait. Some days we could be so busy that I don’t get back
to station, I may not even get to eat lunch or have a break. Others I may not
turn a wheel for the entire day. I work in a small rural town and quiet days
are far more common than busy ones. I have also worked in a busy city before
where every day was jam packed and full on. I have to admit, there are some
days when I miss being busy. I spend time with student paramedics too, helping
them learn the skills they need to do the job, answering questions and
mentoring them. It’s not the kind of job you can learn from a text book, you
need to experience it to understand it. I may do a job or two in a day, perhaps
treat a patient with chest pain or a child that has fallen over at a school and
grazed their knee. These are our usual standard jobs. Then there are days where
there is nothing standard, a day when you’ll get a job that challenges you,
makes you work hard and think even harder, when every skill you have will be
tested. These are the days that keep me coming back. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’ll never forget one evening at work a few years ago. We
hadn’t done a job all day, I was 9 hours into my 10 hour shift and was fully
expecting this to be another whole day without a single job. Then the pager
went off – we were being sent code 1 (lights and sirens – our fastest response
to a generally [potential] life threatening condition). Our job was a 9 year
old girl having an asthma attack. It was winter at the time so we recent had an
influx of respiratory conditions and this was looking like it may have been
another one. My partner for the day (a man who started working as a paramedic 3
months before I was born, this guy had seen everything) jumped in the driver’s
side of the ambulance and we were off. The house wasn’t too far from the
station and on our way there I quickly checked the drug dosages for a 9 year
old – just to be sure. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We arrived at the house and no one was there to greet us,
which usually happens when people are panicked or really worried. We headed up
the stairs and knocked on the door ‘Hello, it’s the Ambulance’ I called out. I
received a grunted ‘come in’ in return from what sounded like an older female.
I walked into the house and it was a mess, there were food scraps everywhere
and cockroaches having the time of their lives, there was animal dander all
over the place and a general mess and stench that came with a house that was
not very well looked after. ‘In here’ the voice called again and we trudged on
through to the lounge room. I saw the young girl in the corner, sitting on a
lounge with a nebuliser mask over her face – a quick visual assessment of her
caused no alarm, she was breathing well, had good colour, acknowledged my
presence and seemed to be aware of what was going on. I looked for a place to
put my bags that carried our supplies but there was no place that seemed either
clean or free from food scraps. I went over to the little girl and started
carrying out my assessment while my partner asked the parents what had been
happening. They stated that she has a history of asthma and anxiety and today
her father had been teasing her so she had been getting quite anxious. This
evening it became worse and she started having an asthma attack. She was on all
of the usual medications and her mother gave them to her, which was the
nebuliser we had seen her with. I switched it over to our oxygen bag and added
our drugs to the nebuliser mask. Further assessment of the girl showed that she
was having a mild asthma attack, she was still breathing well and was able to
talk to me clearly. We decided she needed to be seen at hospital anyway and
started to assist her to the stretcher that was waiting outside for her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When we started moving the young girl she became even more
anxious, screaming out ‘I’m going to die’ repeatedly. I did my best to keep her
calm ‘you aren’t going to die sweet heart, just keep taking deep breaths, it’s
going to be okay, let the medicine work’. Nothing I did would calm her down.
Her heart rate started going up, beep, beep, beep, went the monitor, faster and
faster. As we loaded her into the back of the ambulance I knew something was
wrong, she looked very panicked. She clutched at the mask on her face and tore
it off. I saw her eyes were bulging in fear. Then I saw that she wasn’t
breathing anymore, she had deteriorated so fast that she could no longer move
any oxygen at all. I grabbed my drug kit, I could hear the beeps from the
monitor slowing down. I gave the young girl an injection of adrenaline, then
grabbed the oxygen bag and ventilating her, I was breathing for her. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvD0K6q7USt-7XE6ImbaMmtB2Czti-7NET2EajeyRJwzzAeoo8nX0QhFff3g4onTLba-I248Am3ApdtMAbrNfNtAFf5aHNQiu5QGrkBQ2X3KuNWYF_SQlFFZPTY6tHw79OUEcWKAe__RM/s1600/IMG_20141211_160020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="My Caduceus - Do you have a lucky charm? This was given to me when I started my job as a Paramedic from my family and I have never worked a shift without it. Whether it's luck, superstition or peace it brings, I still cannot bear to be without it. " border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvD0K6q7USt-7XE6ImbaMmtB2Czti-7NET2EajeyRJwzzAeoo8nX0QhFff3g4onTLba-I248Am3ApdtMAbrNfNtAFf5aHNQiu5QGrkBQ2X3KuNWYF_SQlFFZPTY6tHw79OUEcWKAe__RM/s1600/IMG_20141211_160020.jpg" height="320" title="My Caduceus - Do you have a lucky charm? This was given to me when I started my job as a Paramedic from my family and I have never worked a shift without it. Whether it's luck, superstition or peace it brings, I still cannot bear to be without it. " width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>The caduceus my parents gave me when I started as a paramedic over 5 years ago.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>I have never worked a shift without wearing it.</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All of this happened in seconds, my partner was helping the
little girls mother into the passenger seat of the ambulance at the time. I
called out to him ‘we need to move fast, we need to transport hot (code 1) and
can you call the hospital and let them know we have a 9 year old girl in
respiratory arrest coming in’. Everything started moving faster then, my heart
rate included. I continued to ventilate the girl, I could see that what I was
doing was working and that the adrenaline was starting to take effect. He heart
rate started to rise again, back to a normal pace. We arrived at the hospital
and I continued to breathe for the little girl, I told the nurses and doctor
the particulars of the case. They recognised the patient – they had seen her
before for severe asthma, she once had a complete cardiac arrest out the front
of the hospital. Her parents failed to mention this when we asked if she had
any previous medical history. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The hospital was as a small country one so we stayed and
helped the nurses and doctor treat the patient. The adrenaline had started to
work and she was able to start breathing on her own, it was nowhere near
adequate so I continued to help her breathe. For another 40 minutes we helped
treat this girl, things were looking good and it looked like she was starting
to breathe well again. All the medication was working. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I left the room to go and complete my paperwork, we have
detailed reports to write for each job we go to. It took me around 30 minutes
to finish my report, there was a lot to write about. After I was done I went
back into the room to see how my little patient was going. I walked in and
couldn’t believe it. She was sitting up and looking around. This girl, just one
hour ago was fighting for her life, I was breathing for her and giving her
drugs that would literally save her life. I was amazed. I introduced myself to
her ‘Hi, I’m Krystal. I’m one of the paramedics that looked after you, do you
remember?’ She smiled and nodded, ‘thank you’ she said. I still couldn’t
believe it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There aren’t many times when you can say that you actually
saved someone’s life. This was one of the times when my actions, what I did for
this little girl, saved her life. It is a feeling like no other. It’s funny,
it’s something people expect that we, as paramedics, do this day in day out,
and it is something that you associate with the job. But when it does happen…
there are no words to describe it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So when people say to me ‘oh I could never do your job’ I
simply smile and tell them ‘I could never do anything else’. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-28575238836704378302014-12-08T10:00:00.000+10:002014-12-19T09:01:08.809+10:00Christmas Traditions - holiday season with heart and soul<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As the years pass by it seems that each holiday season
becomes more and more commercialised. Even if you aren’t religious, you can
still appreciate that Christmas is a time when families come together and we
are able to spend time with loved ones, give gifts to show our appreciation for
them and eat an abundance of delicious food that was laboriously prepared with
love (and probably a few questions of ‘why did I agree to cook all of this
food??’) I have to admit, even I get caught up in the Christmas hype. There’s
the ‘need’ to find the perfect gift, the list of people to buy for continues to
magically grow, then there’s the photos with Santa (that always end up with
horrible shadows from the direct flash, but you still pay a small fortune for
them), the ridiculously expensive decorations that you end up buying more of
each year and enough food to feed a small army. This year I am determined to
find what I want Christmas to mean to us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDu5SEiNPbzX1Xrrmk__tndN8jhTZ9oqBkwSqth-MDmQwXQkG43CDft03nkYsDHJcUqgNyKvI_Qp3GORF4yEGzzDxGBHzomS2voLWg1UckSIRX_1LMi4OXrtk7YpmZAOTuquniJ3wHZmw/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Christmas is such a beautiful time of year. Sometimes we get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping and making sure everything is right for everyone that we forget to stop and reflect on what Christmas means to us. What does Christmas mean for you?" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDu5SEiNPbzX1Xrrmk__tndN8jhTZ9oqBkwSqth-MDmQwXQkG43CDft03nkYsDHJcUqgNyKvI_Qp3GORF4yEGzzDxGBHzomS2voLWg1UckSIRX_1LMi4OXrtk7YpmZAOTuquniJ3wHZmw/s1600/download.jpg" height="212" title="Christmas is such a beautiful time of year. Sometimes we get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping and making sure everything is right for everyone that we forget to stop and reflect on what Christmas means to us. What does Christmas mean for you?" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Christmas Day itself is going to look a little different for
us each year. We have to share the time with Steve’s children between himself
and their mum as well as having to share the time with Alexander between
ourselves and his dad. Can you see how this could get a little messy? It would
be easy to get upset and depressed that Christmas Day may never be what it is
for other families, but instead we have decided to focus more on all of the
days surrounding Christmas and not get too caught up on Christmas Day. As long
as we get to do each of our traditions at some point over the few days
surrounding Christmas then we will be happy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So here are a few traditions we want to represent our
family’s Christmas:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Christmas Eve Box – this year
I am starting the ‘Christmas Eve Box’. This is a box containing a few small
gifts for the kids to open on Christmas Eve. This year the box will include a
pair of pyjama’s, a DVD (Thomas the Tank has won that spot for Alexander this
year), a book and a small toy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A family meal – at some point,
whether it is breakfast, lunch or dinner, I would like to have a sit down meal
with all of my family. Now, I have a very large family including six brothers,
plus all of the additions that come with their own little families, which means
that there may have to be a few different sessions to be able to include everyone.
It’s okay if we’re not all together at once, as long as we are able to spend a
bit of time together, have a catch up and just be thankful for each other then
I will be a very happy woman. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Donations to the less fortunate –
a few years ago I started a tradition with my family and I have every intention
of continuing it, and including any family members that want to participate.
Each member of my family puts $10 in to a kitty, we then go and buy
(non-perishable) groceries with that money and donate to the local charity that
needs the help. We could easily mix this up a little and donate toys or small
gifts to one of the many charities that help those less fortunate at Christmas.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Stories – when I was younger I
could recite the words to ‘The Night Before Christmas’. I can still remember
most of it now. That’s because it was read to me, and as I became older, I read
it so many times. I love the idea of having a book to associate with Christmas
every year. Personally I like the traditional stories but you could easily use
the Aussie versions of these or any new modern version if you’d prefer. Also in
the category I need to add the Christmas tradition my family has had for around
10 years now. Each year on either Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, we watch the
movie ‘Elf’ with Will Ferrell in it. We have seen it so many times now that we
quote from it at various stages throughout the year. One of my brothers went to
New York a few years ago and I absolutely had to say to him ‘First off, if you
see gum on the street, leave it there. It isn’t free candy’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">These traditions are the important parts of Christmas to us,
they all involve spending time together, showing appreciation for each other
and just slowing down and enjoying what we have. It doesn’t matter if they
don’t all happen on Christmas Day – it’s just a day, what is important is that
we put our family first and focus on OUR traditions. What traditions do you
have or do you want to start? I would love to hear your Christmas stories. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-80522233994245091992014-12-06T20:09:00.000+10:002014-12-06T20:09:00.895+10:00The Story of Alexander (part 2)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">** Photo's in the post may be upsetting to some**</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Can you imagine a world where you spend in excess of 14
hours a day in a hospital, where you have to watch your child sleep in a crib
that regulates their body temperature while machines help them breathe and
monitor their every heartbeat. Where tubes feed them because you aren’t allowed
to, where you can’t pick them up or hold them, where you can see their tears
falling from their eyes but cannot hear the sound of their cries because they
are intubated. Can you imagine having to leave your child every night, leave
them to be cared for by someone else, a complete stranger to you, while you go
and try to sleep in a room that is not your own, in a city you do not live in
with no family around. And to top it all off, a husband who only wants to talk
to you about the problems you are having in your relationship. There is no
escape, there is no end in sight. You don’t know if your child will be okay or
when you’ll be able to take them home or even if you’ll be able to take them
home, you don’t know what is going to happen with your marriage, you feel like
you don’t know anything. Can you imagine this world? I can. I can because this
was my world. For almost three months this was my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Peter* and I had been having problems for a while by the
time Alexander was born and living in a small room together only made things
worse. I couldn’t handle the issues we were having and begged him to just let
it go until we knew everything with Alexander would be okay. He wasn’t able to
do that. Every single day he berated me about where our marriage was going,
what I wanted and what he needed. The few days following the birth of Alexander
were my only respite, he seemed to have let it go. However it only lasted a few
days. I couldn’t believe it, our son was in hospital, fighting for his life and
this was his priority?? It’s standard to see a counsellor when your child is in
NICU, especially if it is expected they will have an extended stay. I loved our
counsellor. Peter and I saw her together and attempted to speak with her about
our problems but the sessions only ever ended in an argument, followed by Peter
telling me off afterwards for saying certain things, or speaking when he wanted
to talk. It was becoming more and more apparent just how controlling he was.
During my pregnancy he would comment on things such as if I had a chocolate bar
or nothing but breakfast cereal for dinner, because that was all I could
stomach. It was subtle at first, almost said jokingly. Then it became more
serious and towards the end he would be quite blunt in putting me down about
what I would eat, what I would do and how I would do it. He controlled what I
talked to people about (if I spoke about my work he hassled me later saying I
was ‘showing off’ or that people didn’t want to hear my stories), he controlled
who I saw and he controlled where I went and when. He had isolated me from my
friends and family. My closest friend was amazing to me and so supportive, I
talked to her about everything and Peter knew this. He started telling me that
I wasn’t able to talk to her anymore or see her. I had let a lot of the other
controlling issues slide, either because they were so subtle I didn’t notice
them or because I didn’t have the energy to argue, but this one I wouldn’t
allow. He started checking my phone to see how many times I had texted her or
called her in a day. He even told me he suspected that after I had Alexander I
was going to leave him for her. He was so time consuming and demanding and I
was exhausted. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Alexander’s first few days of life were a blur. I remember
sitting in the waiting room when he was having his first surgery, silently
crying the whole time. I had been awake for 36 hours straight after going into
labour at 9pm the night before. The nurses looking after Alexander were
amazing, they would send me back to my room to rest when they thought I’d had
enough, they made sure I had water with me all the time and sometimes they just
sat with me and talked about Alexander and the strong personality he already
had. I stayed in hospital for 3 days after Alexander’s birth, not because
anything was wrong but literally because the nurses looking after me on the maternity
ward forgot I was there. On the second day I was in my room resting while
Alexander slept 4 floors below me in the NICU. A nurse came in after knocking
on the door, she walked in and apologised for waking me. After a few seconds of
looking around the room puzzled she said to me ‘where is your baby? You’re
supposed to have him with you all the time.’ I burst into tears. Didn’t they
have that information on my chart or something to stop hurtful questions like
this? What I wouldn’t give to have him by my side at every moment. I told her
quite bluntly he was in NICU. I gathered my things and walked out of the room
without speaking another word to her. I never saw that nurse again. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0MJQebiZAQYERzXZ8R9GiYpXI78iUsJ-okiqkiJnByjvje_2gBYTHuhCFhmS37F9H1FuD3KEAPf-t1cnuJ2UzgFZDTQNeq3dmecaJ9r4J4RpcE54psDmZyxwklJFMVEzI0Nrw1hLypuc/s1600/IMG_1756.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0MJQebiZAQYERzXZ8R9GiYpXI78iUsJ-okiqkiJnByjvje_2gBYTHuhCFhmS37F9H1FuD3KEAPf-t1cnuJ2UzgFZDTQNeq3dmecaJ9r4J4RpcE54psDmZyxwklJFMVEzI0Nrw1hLypuc/s1600/IMG_1756.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Cuddles with Alexander in NICU1 - Day 5</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was sitting with Alexander late at night, watching the
monitors, watching the machines helping him breathe. It may seem weird to some
but I found the beeps of the monitor to be soothing, they were familiar to me,
I understood them. They told me information I could interpret, the beeps
reminded me of work, our machines sounded exactly the same. I could feel my
eyes getting heavy as I sat in the chair next to Alexander’s bed. All of a
sudden I heard the alarm tone – it was telling me Alexander wasn’t getting
enough oxygen. He was intubated, the machine was supposed to be regulating
this. I sat straight up as his nurse rushed over. I could see his lips starting
to go blue as the machine’s alarms continued to sound. It was my instinct both
as a mum and as a paramedic to do something, but I didn’t know what. Another
nurse came to help and another took me by the hand and stood me back from the
bed. Alexander was now a dusty pink all over, going purple. I could tell by the
monitors he wasn’t getting any oxygen and his heart rate was dropping, it was
slowing down. The nurse was suctioning Alexander’s tube, there must have been
an obstruction. He had been producing a lot of mucous and this was causing a
blockage in the tube. My whole world had stood still. His heart was getting
slower and I knew the nurse holding my hand was concerned. His nurse was still
suctioning the tube, the machine was beeping way too slow, I had tears
streaming from my eyes and I was shaking. It was almost like my heart was
trying to compensate for Alexander’s by beating that much faster. Then I heard
the beeps speed up. The nurse had reattached the ventilator and Alexander was
returning to a much healthier shade of pink. I will never forget those moments,
watching helplessly as these amazing nurses worked quickly and calmly to keep
my son alive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vS-ntkb6krah-jgX4xH6kDFqhBPs1iGKjUhRL0tdiGIUGgWCoPTRC8MvMthznolKx0cpMcrtW2S9VdOXKyaNyo-1h07OZG4qbPXcWlT5hoBj4vmiiD65hhWqnV9tpMb0blJh24jgxQM/s1600/Day+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_vS-ntkb6krah-jgX4xH6kDFqhBPs1iGKjUhRL0tdiGIUGgWCoPTRC8MvMthznolKx0cpMcrtW2S9VdOXKyaNyo-1h07OZG4qbPXcWlT5hoBj4vmiiD65hhWqnV9tpMb0blJh24jgxQM/s1600/Day+2.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Alexander Day 2 - Intubated and sleeping</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The step down from NICU 1 (most critical babies) to NICU 2
(still very sick but not as critical, usually for babies that can breathe on
their own) was a massive relief. The atmosphere in the pod room (the room which
held up to 6 NICU beds) was much more relaxed. These babies were still
critically ill but for the large portion they were travelling along well. One
day I started talking to another mum who was in the room, Alysha. Her son Oscar
was in the NICU after being born at 24 weeks. Alysha was amazing, I had seen
her for a few days walking through the NICU, she always seemed so composed and
in charge. Her little boy was a few weeks old at this stage. After having a
chat with Alysha I realised she was even more amazing than I had thought. Oscar
was her second child, her little girl Ruby was also born at 24 weeks and had
spent 100 days in NICU. This was her second stint here. She spoke the NICU
language fluently and knew more about CPAP and surfactant than most nurses
would. We quickly became friends. I had someone to talk to, someone who
brightened my day and someone I looked forward to seeing. I don’t think she
will ever know just how much of an impact she had on me or just how much I
relied on her friendship during this time. Peter didn’t like us being friends
and would often make negative comments about her in order to try and stop me
talking to her. It wasn’t going to work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After two weeks of Alexander being in NICU, the hospital
felt like a second home. I knew the walk from Ronald McDonald House to the
hospital step by step and I knew the smell and sound of each corridor and lift
through the hospital. The nurses started knowing me by name and I had settled
into the hospital’s routine. My days were the same, day in and day out. Each
day I would wake at 6am and pump breastmilk to store for Alexander. I would get
ready, stop by the coffee shop on the way and be at the hospital by 7am. Each
morning they had rounds where the doctors, nurses, pharmacists and anyone else
involved in the baby’s progress and development would come around and talk
about what had happened in the last 24 hours and what the plan for the next 24
hours was. After this was done I would sit with Alexander and read him stories,
I would pump every 3-4 hours in order to maintain my supply, I didn’t have the
luxury of feeding on demand. I would stay at the hospital until around 1pm,
then I would head out and have lunch and go back to Ronald McDonald House for a
nap. I would gather more supplies and
usually a prepacked meal for dinner, one that I had cooked in advance and
frozen. I’d then head back to the hospital at 4pm and stay until around 10pm at
night. I’d walk back to Ronald McDonald House, get myself organised for the
next day, shower, pump again and go to bed. I’d wake during the night at around
2am to pump again, attempting to mimic the needs of a newborn. This was my
routine. My day to day. This was my life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The third week of NICU was a little scary. The cause of
Alexander’s bowel obstruction was unknown.
The surgeons were unable to determine the cause during surgery and
therefore further testing needed to be done. I was told that they were
suspecting one of two conditions. The first was a condition called
Hirschprung’s Disease. This would have
meant that at the point of the obstruction the nerves in Alexander’s intestines
were not formed properly, and everything below that section would not work.
Because of how high in Alexander’s intestine the obstruction was, this would have
meant that Alexander would have had a very low quality of life and this
condition would have ultimately been fatal. Alexander wouldn’t have been able
to eat, ever. I couldn’t believe this was possible of my gorgeous little boy.
The other option was that Alexander would have Cystic Fibrosis, a condition
primarily affecting his lungs. This would have meant Alexander would have to
endure daily physiotherapy and medication, he would be completely infertile and
his life expectancy wouldn’t reach past forty years. Alexander had a 90% chance
of having Cystic Fibrosis. At week 3 they were able to text for Hirschprung’s
Disease but couldn’t test for Cystic Fibrosis until 4 weeks at the earliest.
The test for Hirschprung’s was invasive and I stood with Alexander, soothing
him as they took the sample they needed. The results wouldn’t be ready for
days. These were the slowest days of my life. I floated through in a haze, too
scared to think about things too much. The results came back and they were
negative for Hirschprung’s Disease. I felt so relieved, but it was short lived.
The surgeon who gave me the news followed the information with ‘I guess it is
Cystic Fibrosis then’. My heart sank. I still couldn’t believe it. And I still
had to wait. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Alexander's 'Bedroom' in NICU2</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had been having regular appointments with the counsellor,
just on my own as the ones I had with Peter always ended up in more arguments.
I had updated her on Alexander’s condition but I had said to her that I didn’t
want to talk about the possibility of him having Cystic Fibrosis. If he did
have it, I would deal with it then and if he didn’t have it then I didn’t want
to stress about it now for no reason. She was accepting of this. The
conversation turned to my marriage and she asked me if I was happy. My response
was simple, I don’t think I had ever been happy, not really. She asked what
support I had, I explained that I had two friends that I had talked to that
Peter didn’t know about because it would have caused more problems. One was my
closest friend who Peter had forbidden me from talking to, and the other was
Steve. I had kept him up to date on Alexander’s progress as much as possible.
He was so supportive and diplomatic when it came to Peter. His response to most
things was that he was probably just finding it hard being a new dad and not
knowing how to express it. My family was a source of support but I had kept
from them how bad things were in my relationship with Peter that it almost
seemed impossible to talk to them about it now. My mum knew things weren’t
fantastic and she was trying her best to help. Mum spent as much time as she
could at the hospital with me but she lived 3 hours away and getting to
Brisbane was difficult for her. I knew she wanted to be closer to me, I needed
her to be closer to me, but Peter wouldn’t allow it. He came across as being
supportive of me in front of others but behind closed doors he would always
comment on how it would be unfair if my mum stayed with me and he couldn’t have
his mum that close or that I shouldn’t be relying on my mum so much and that I
should be relying on him. In the end I gave up the argument. My counsellor asked me, ‘Do you want to be
married to Peter’. I thought about it… I honestly didn’t know. I knew I didn’t
love him anymore, not really. But I felt guilty at the thought of not having
this ‘perfect family’. She asked me to picture myself sitting on a beach, I was
smiling, laughing and I was happy. She asked me who was there with me. I said
Alexander. Just Alexander. She asked what I wanted from my marriage and I
responded ‘I want out. I want it to be over’. It was all too much to process
while my son lay in NICU and I was so far from home. I told her I was just
going to get through however long it took to get home and then deal with it
then. I didn’t want to discuss things with Peter, I just wanted to take each
day as it came. As far as I was concerned we just needed to be roommates, there
for support for our sick son, we just needed to get through. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The day of the Cystic Fibrosis test finally came. They had
to collect a certain amount of sweat from Alexander’s skin and test the amount of
chloride found it in. Those with Cystic Fibrosis have higher chloride levels,
in a nutshell, their skin is saltier. The nurse that was looking after
Alexander that day was brilliant. She had known I was getting very nervous
about the test and sat with me for a while. She had been a NICU nurse for 15
years and had seen it all. She said to me ‘he just doesn’t look like a CF baby
you know’. I had these little glimmers of hope but then would doubt myself – he
had a 90% chance of CF and then there was what the surgeon had said… I was
torn. ‘Have you licked him?’ she asked. Huh?!? Licked him? She explained that
people with CF have very salty skin and you can taste it. I looked at her and
she laughed – she said she was serious and that it was true. I have to admit –
I was desperate for hope, for any sign that he didn’t have CF. So I did it. I
licked my son’s forehead. He didn’t taste too salty. Maybe a little. But how
salty is too salty? Then I burst out laughing. The nurse asked what was wrong.
I had just realised Alexander had never had a bath. In the tiny entirety of his
life, he had never had a bath. He had been wiped down occasionally but water
and submersion posed a massive risk of infection of his PICC line and IV lines.
The nurse had made me laugh for the first time in longer than I cared to
remember. I had an overwhelming feeling that everything was going to be okay. The
test was done and a few days later the results were back. The nurse who was
there on the day of the test came to visit – I explained the results were back
but the doctor had been busy and wasn’t able to come around to tell us until
later that evening. She said to me ‘well that just won’t do, come with me’. She
took me over to the computer and logged in to see Alexander’s results. There it
was, right before my eyes. All the numbers on the screen took me a few seconds
to process. He was clear. He didn’t have CF. It wasn’t even marginal, his
numbers were convincingly below CF levels. I jumped for joy, hugged the nurse
and cried tears of happiness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wodIhEnpXUI1_2lnNvN8auOj1IXvQUvALbd169PMSvKIebEEZHbskPFH082CSFA8i0lrC3P3G-XgB8t8NRBDD8qwb0mgAVGBRyPTW7AsIm10z6dhfOCpTdE9hNlaDmFMjPv2MIVxIs0/s1600/IMG_20130814_200020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1wodIhEnpXUI1_2lnNvN8auOj1IXvQUvALbd169PMSvKIebEEZHbskPFH082CSFA8i0lrC3P3G-XgB8t8NRBDD8qwb0mgAVGBRyPTW7AsIm10z6dhfOCpTdE9hNlaDmFMjPv2MIVxIs0/s1600/IMG_20130814_200020.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>More cuddles - I couldn't get enough</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now I just had a waiting game. It was determined that
Alexander’s obstruction was just a congenital defect with no apparent cause. I
was waiting for Alexander to be able to have his next surgery where they would
reconnect his intestine – they had to wait until the swelling had gone down so
each side of the intestine was closer in size (initially one size was 1cm in
diameter and the other was 4cm, they explained it would be like trying to
connect a small garden hose to a drain pipe). During this time Alexander was
healthy, he was now able to have 3mls of milk every hour and was gaining weight
from the TPN and lipids (IV food). Things were looking good and he was a happy
little man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Unfortunately things were just getting worse between Peter
and I. I felt so trapped and so alone, I was fighting to get through each day
and doing my best to avoid Peter. I had even gone home on a few occasions just
to get away. Alexander was doing so well and I knew I wasn’t doing well staying
there. I would go and spend the morning with Alexander, reading him stories and
going through our usual morning routine. By this stage I had read 7 Roald Dahl
books and we kept working our way through the collection. At 1pm I left the hospital
and left town, heading home. It only took around an hour and a half to get
there. I was so excited to be alone. I spent the night in my own house. I didn’t
sleep in my bed, I was trying to distance myself from Peter as much as I could
and that bed was our bed. I slept on the lounge and had the best night sleep
since before Alexander was born. I called the hospital every few hours and
spoke with Alexander’s nurse, they knew I had gone home for the night, in fact
one of his nurses was the one to suggest it. At first I thought I could never
do it. After telling the counsellor what the nurse had suggested she made me
see it was a good idea. She had also told me that Peter had made an appointment
with her and while she couldn’t discuss with me the specifics of their
discussion she felt she needed to warn me of a few things. He had confronted
her, trying to get her to say that I had post-partum depression. My counsellor
and I had discussed this and she was adamant that I didn’t have PPD. She said
Peter was trying to use it as an excuse as to why our relationship was failing.
She also said she was very concerned for me as it was becoming clearer to her
just how controlling Peter was getting, he had requested she advise him of
every counselling session I had with her and had tried to find out what we had
been discussing. She was highly concerned and knew I needed a break away. After
she had told me this I too realised that a break was exactly what I needed, for
myself and my ability to stay strong for Alexander. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I returned before lunch the next day, I had missed rounds
that morning but had spoken to Alexander’s nurse straight after and she kept me
up to date. When I arrived back at the hospital Alexander’s nurse had said that
there was talk about possibly having Alexander’s next surgery soon. All of a
sudden I became nervous and excited all at once. This meant things were moving
forward but I felt guilty for being excited about my son having surgery and I
was so nervous about the complications that can happen with it. Alexander’s
surgical team came around a little later and assessed him and spoke with me.
They said that they were happy with the way things were progressing and at this
stage they were scheduling his surgery for one week’s time. They were confident
that they would be able to re-join his intestine with limited issues. There it
was – that beautiful bright beam, this was the first time I had seen some light
at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. I knew I had a block of time to
get through. A week. A week seemed easy in comparison to what I had been
through. I should have known though, nothing in NICU is easy. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWdbBMXGRvMVdUcQPw1Jy7QjoKPZtuTWRbMys78wBUOWbMHK4mmraFcxkptpDK1RmcI7VXr1IM0NSZNElHLgAvKrpZwGydtZbrnJwoYzEU4zT4WtBwuEJBbYFL1UkuE0i__xukDm4rMk/s1600/IMG_20130815_093451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbWdbBMXGRvMVdUcQPw1Jy7QjoKPZtuTWRbMys78wBUOWbMHK4mmraFcxkptpDK1RmcI7VXr1IM0NSZNElHLgAvKrpZwGydtZbrnJwoYzEU4zT4WtBwuEJBbYFL1UkuE0i__xukDm4rMk/s1600/IMG_20130815_093451.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Looking down at this perfect little man made very second worth it.</i></span></o:p></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thank you for your patience as I tell The Story of
Alexander. I was not prepared for the height of emotion I would feel as I
retold his story, I find myself wanting to tell every detail and there are so
many. So this is Part 2 and like this one, Part 3 will come in time. I cannot
thank you enough for your response to his story so far, your love and support
has been amazing. I hope you continue to enjoy his story as much as I am
enjoying writing it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">*Name changed for privacy.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-54797398755834944582014-12-04T09:00:00.000+10:002014-12-04T16:41:47.116+10:00How I broke tradition in our relationship<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What’s a traditional relationship to you? One where you met
in a crowded room, locked eyes and that was the beginning of something
wonderful. Or is it where there’s the stereotypical gender roles – the husband
goes off to work as the breadwinner and the wife is the stay at home mum
looking after the kids and house? What about the proposal – does he ask your parents’
permission before getting down on one knee and requesting your hand in
marriage? There are so many expectations of a relationship – most of which is
Hollywood hype as to what a ‘perfect’ relationship is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well, I can tell you, we have broken just about every
traditional ‘rule’ and I couldn't imagine a more perfect relationship. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Steve and I met at work – admittedly I did see him from
about 30 meters away and my breath did catch. I couldn't believe someone so
gorgeous existed. Wow. I was a student paramedic at the time so I was a little
worried that everything that came out of my mouth made me sound either awkward
or unintelligent. I saw his wedding ring and I knew that was it – this would
just be someone I would admire from afar. We worked together for four years, I
had been married in that time and had a baby of my own. We became close as
friends, as you tend to do when you see someone at all hours of the night and
day, as well as work within high stress and highly emotional situations.
Through this friendship we helped each other through our respective marriage
breakdowns and separations. From that, our relationship grew. It wasn't the traditional ‘courting’, our
friendship just gradually became more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tradition says that couples date for a few years, then they
get married, buy a house and then have a baby. Well, Steve and I already had
children of our own so we knew that was never going to be a traditional part of
our relationship. Buying a house is off the cards – the town we live in is not
the place we want to buy a house at the moment – not because we don’t like the
town, we do, but because the market is falling, and is likely to continue to
fall. Then there’s the marriage. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We have both been married before but had spoken about
getting married ourselves. My first wedding was rushed (planned in just 5
weeks), was an absolute disaster with us and all of the guests getting flooded
in for 4 days, and really didn't have much personality to it. Steve’s first
wedding wasn't even his idea – it was his bride’s family’s decision for them to
get married, he didn't have any say in any of the arrangements and didn't represent him as a person at all. We both wanted to have a positive wedding
experience. We wanted a wedding about us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was watching the news one day and there was a segment on
about women proposing to their partners. At the time I kind of scoffed at the
idea thinking it was a woman’s desperate plea to keep her man. Then I actually
thought about it – why is it when a man proposes it’s romantic but when a woman
proposes it’s desperate? I loved Steve, I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my
life with him, I wanted to ask him to marry me. I started planning it straight
away. We had a weekend away planned for a few months from then, I knew it would
be the perfect time. We went shopping not long after that and I decided to do
some sneaky research, we went into jewellery stores (I’m a sucker for diamonds,
I’m always looking in jewelry stores) and I asked Steve to try on some rings
to see what he liked – I told him that finding the right one can take a long
time so we might as well start looking now. He didn't question it and tried on
a few rings. Surprisingly he found one he liked within a few minutes and just
to be sure I asked if they could get the size of Steve’s finger too – just so
we could come back in the future and not have to go through the process again –
of course. The next day I called the jewellery store and ordered the ring for
him. Perfect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A few weeks later Steve’s parents came to visit. I knew
there was a whole lot of tradition going out the window by me proposing to him,
so I wanted to keep some fundamental elements of tradition. I felt it to be a
respectful thing to ask his parents’ permission, well more of me letting them
know my plans. I was terrified. No wonder guys put this off for so long. It’s
scary asking for permission to marry. I didn't know if they would think the
idea was ridiculous or not. Steve and I had only been together for about 6
months. I managed to stammer the words out and they were over the moon. Phew!! From
then on I had a new found confidence for what I was planning to do. Prior to
that I was questioning whether or not I should go ahead with it or if I should
just wait and let him propose. Now there was no question in my mind – I was
doing the right thing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our weekend away came around quickly and before I knew it we
were in our hotel room sipping on Moet and looking out at the gorgeous views of
the Gold Coast. I told Steve that I wanted to go down to the beach and watch
the sunset, he had no objections. I managed to hide the ring in a small pocket
in my jeans, I was so scared of losing it. The weather was perfect, the beach
was gorgeous, I couldn’t have wished for a better evening. We sat in the sand
for a while, talking about our future. I kept an eye on the time, the official
time of sunset was 5:11pm, that’s when I wanted to propose. At 5:10pm I said
that we had better head back to the hotel and get ready for our dinner out.
Steve stood up to go and I fumbled in the sand for a little while. Steve was
looking off to the surfers getting their last waves in before the sun
disappeared, I stood up, managed to get the ring from out of my pocked, and
knelt on one knee. He looked back to me and with a massive smile on my face I
asked if he would please marry me. It took a few seconds for Steve to register
what was going on, I could tell the second it clicked because a smiled his
gorgeous smile and knelt down to cuddle me. He still hadn’t answered me! ‘So,
will you?’ I asked. ‘Oh, yes, yes of course’ he replied. Steve’s smile radiated
to his amazing blue eyes. This was the man I was going to spend the rest of my
life with, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLI7dQSiw6FrbEWDve38vvJyStMXM7dWsK6ubSPovrmYBJSq_Rp9yVh1-3Mz5hTUouHCz-kGhgo636ZorNioPSgoEe13r43CkGpGSaFEHMAbeDLbS6E6sVYlyOvjy2toy8f8HPyDpzzCU/s1600/IMG_20140702_090836.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLI7dQSiw6FrbEWDve38vvJyStMXM7dWsK6ubSPovrmYBJSq_Rp9yVh1-3Mz5hTUouHCz-kGhgo636ZorNioPSgoEe13r43CkGpGSaFEHMAbeDLbS6E6sVYlyOvjy2toy8f8HPyDpzzCU/s1600/IMG_20140702_090836.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Steve told me the proposal was perfect, I thought so too.
It’s unique for us to our relationship. It’s our kind of perfect. There are so
many traditions in relationships and so many other people telling you what is
considered to be the ‘perfect’ relationship. It’s up to <i>you </i>to find <i>your </i>kind
of perfect. Do what <i>you </i>feel is right, do what makes <i>you </i>happy and most of all,
do what suits you both. Be happy, have fun and smile. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-13691807050513661652014-12-01T15:04:00.000+10:002014-12-01T16:09:28.067+10:00Goals and Achievements<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our lives are a series of goals and achievements. Some
people are far more set on their goals – they have clear direction, a plan and
a time line to achieve them. Some others are a little more laid back but still
have goals nonetheless. Even if you don’t recognise the small goals you have, I
guarantee you have at least one each day without even realising. Do the grocery
shopping, see Kate for coffee, post the card to Nan… each day is made up of
several small goals. Which means each day is also made up of several small
achievements. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, a lot of us focus on the things we didn’t get
done or didn’t achieve. We don’t give ourselves enough praise for what we do
achieve. I am guilty of this and a little too often. We also don’t recognise
our goals, I mean actually list them as being a goal. How much better would you
feel if you ticked off a list of things to do in a day and looked at that list
realising what you had achieved, versus just going about your daily tasks
without marking them as achievements?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7GSMdZBa4mxaC625DTH116h-TlbRg0jv3EUtUSovBz2GXkEPxpYjIeA8zk3D5AK7IjLVVjP9b44vpoNRbSGbdik3-YNbyBml1LbDiTXA9iYHecFVYgxOFS-_T4Z7DAv2wwojCLrMh0k/s1600/4579520419_5897bf9f8f_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF7GSMdZBa4mxaC625DTH116h-TlbRg0jv3EUtUSovBz2GXkEPxpYjIeA8zk3D5AK7IjLVVjP9b44vpoNRbSGbdik3-YNbyBml1LbDiTXA9iYHecFVYgxOFS-_T4Z7DAv2wwojCLrMh0k/s1600/4579520419_5897bf9f8f_z.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So this is where we come to one of my favourite things.
Lists!! As I have mentioned previously, I love lists. I even love having a list
of lists I need to write. They make me feel like I am organised, like I have
direction and I know what I need to have done by when, as well as helping me to
not feel like I have forgotten something all the time. One of my staple lists
is a daily To Do List which can include everyday tasks such as sweeping the
floor, doing the groceries or cooking dinner, or even fun things like catch up
with Grace for coffee, research a new camper trailer to buy (yes please) or
most importantly, take 30 minutes out to relax. Lists help keep us organised
and help us plan our time effectively. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Daily lists can help us with our smaller goals and
achievements, but what do you do when you have a big goal in mind? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For me personally I take a big goal I have, then break it up
into smaller goals to achieve, and give myself a time frame. For example, one of
our goals is to buy a new camper trailer for ourselves. While I would love to
go out tomorrow and buy one I know this isn't</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> the best option overall, so I
have broken it into smaller pieces so my goal feels more achievable. It is
quite a simple example and it looks a little something like this:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Goal<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i> </i>To buy our 'perfect enough for us' camper
trailer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Time Frame</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">6 months<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Budget<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> x amount of $$<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">How To<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Research camper trailers and create list of what
we definitely want in, what we would like in but are willing to negotiate on,
and what we absolutely do not want.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">From this, create a budget of what we are
willing to spend</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Using our existing fortnightly budget, agree
with Steve as to how much from our ‘savings’ we would like to redistribute to
our ‘camper trailer’ fund.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">From this, work out a time frame to achieve.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Bonus mini
goal</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;"> – attempt to obtain 1 overtime shift per month in order to save for
camper trailer faster.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I mentioned, this is a pretty simple example but this is
how I set out all of my larger goals. Sometimes when we look at the big picture
it can be overwhelming, so much to do and in such a short time. This breaks
things down into smaller goals, which means as you tick them off you also have
small achievements along the way. I have even used this template for how I want
to set up and run this blog and what I want to achieve with it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So in a nutshell:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -18.0pt;">
</div>
<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Give yourself a daily ‘To Do’ list so each day
you can see your goals and achievements</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Praise yourself for what you achieved each day</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">For larger goals, set out a plan – give yourself
clear direction, a time frame and a ‘how to’</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Break your large goals into smaller, bite sized
pieces so you can see yourself moving forward towards your goal with smaller
achievements.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">-</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; text-indent: -18pt;">Again – give yourself praise for what you
achieved.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So what are some of your goals and how are you working
towards them? Do you think this template could help you achieve your goals
sooner?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-24622106531126751062014-11-27T15:10:00.000+10:002014-11-27T15:11:51.715+10:00When your plans just don't work out<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When things don’t go the way you planned them to, how do you
get yourself out of the rut?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This week just gone we were supposed to have our family
camping holiday at Brunswick Heads, a gorgeous little coastal town in northern
New South Wales. We had spent the last few weeks planning what to take, and
spent the last few days packing and repacking. We drove the four and a half
hours to get there, excited the whole way about what the week would bring. We
arrived and the sun was out, the water looked gorgeous and our camp site was perfectly
situated, right on the water. We hurried out of the car to stretch our legs and
have a look around, Alexander ran around excitedly and I was eager for our
holiday to kick off. We had noticed it was a little windier than we had
anticipated but didn't really think too much of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC75Lx6g2tJbr6pzzKpCXtjGpp8s8SkKPAoRfjcVeWKnIXo_igdET3km_YwrEmXK1_03x_hqWY4UUAKkDVsR-c4C3krCSvSUldEltrerRvZ2MqsAZDFmQbCJ5LZ-cCrJ7vgZpYsIchmgk/s1600/img1417028973769.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC75Lx6g2tJbr6pzzKpCXtjGpp8s8SkKPAoRfjcVeWKnIXo_igdET3km_YwrEmXK1_03x_hqWY4UUAKkDVsR-c4C3krCSvSUldEltrerRvZ2MqsAZDFmQbCJ5LZ-cCrJ7vgZpYsIchmgk/s1600/img1417028973769.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>Alexander and Steve about to have a quick swim</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So we started unpacking…. We unrolled the tent, only to have
the fly blow away (insert image of me chasing after the fly which acted more
like a giant parachute…). Packed the fly safely in the car until we were ready
for it and started setting up the tent. That didn’t take too long – we have
done it a few times before and Alexander even wanted to help. Once the tent was
up we gained a better understanding of just how windy it really was. The wind
was blowing so hard the tent was bent on a 45 degree angle. Hmmm…. I’m not one
to give up that easily so we persevered. Threw a few items into the tent (these
will help weigh it down, surely), set up Alexander’s cot because I knew it
would be nap time soon for him after running around like crazy, and then took a
break and went for a swim, hoping that by the time we were done the wind would
have settled a bit. Big mistake. We came back up to the tent to find it, and
everything that was inside, full of sand. Urgh!!! We thought we would put the
fly on to stop the sand coming in, and hopefully just ride out the wind. After
an hour of fighting with the fly, pegs being pulled out because of the force of
the wind gusts under the fly, and tears starting to form in the tent we decided
to call it. The forecast was predicting wind all week and a little rain. I was
devastated. We had this trip planned for months and months. We had been talking
about camping here all year. Now we had to pack up and go home because of the
wind?? I was not happy. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOQ0eUFCPb7hg34XvBEgjb13rFlIWZeskkrjBSNDid8oAXirgG3w68LPY3SXsTfOspVAtOQvcmM4_1oFT0bq-zjViskSPmm4xOr28SXeqwlUqg0KXjViztwtVOfkTtdAoNb0JB875FeA/s1600/20141124_121557.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOQ0eUFCPb7hg34XvBEgjb13rFlIWZeskkrjBSNDid8oAXirgG3w68LPY3SXsTfOspVAtOQvcmM4_1oFT0bq-zjViskSPmm4xOr28SXeqwlUqg0KXjViztwtVOfkTtdAoNb0JB875FeA/s1600/20141124_121557.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Alexander trying to help me set up the tent - if only it was as calm as the picture looks.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I (hopefully understandably) became quite cranky and upset.
We had worked all of this into our budget, knowing things were going to be a
little tighter coming up to Christmas. We had taken this time off work
specifically for this holiday (because we have penalty rates – taking holidays
for us means being paid base rate which is usually around half of what we would
normally get paid). We had also just spent around $70 in diesel getting here
and would cost us the same to get back. Alexander was clearly having a blast,
loving the water and loving being outdoors, now he had to go back into a car
and drive another four and a half hours home. Steve and I were both looking
forward to our lovely days by the water, fishing, relaxing of an evening with a
glass of wine and some lovely soft cheese. I was in a mood and in a rut and I didn't know how to get out of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After repacking the car in almost silence, we all climbed
back in and set off for home. I asked Steve to stop at one of the service
stations on the way back, they have a Krispy Kreme store and I figured I’d just
make myself feel better with doughnuts. (They were delicious and did everything
but make me feel better). We didn't talk much except for the occasional dig at
how unfair it was that this happened and how upset we were. After about an hour
and a half of driving like this I realised I had enough. Was I really just
going to spend the next week of my holidays wallowing in self-pity over what
could have been a fantastic holiday? Was I going to be grumpy and whingey? No
way! What example is that setting for Alexander? How could that be healthy for
me to be so upset and angry for that long? Not going to happen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had two things that I need to think about and overcome.
The fact that our camping set up wasn’t exactly weather resistant and what
could we do to make it more so for future camping trips and what could we do
this coming week that would be enjoyable and fun and make up for the fact that
we weren't away for our holidays. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After talking about our camping set up we decided to save up
and buy ourselves a camper trailer. It would be far more weather resistant and
with Alexander growing up, would provide us with more space for him and
ourselves. This was a massive turn around for us in attitude. We became positive
and motivated to have our new camping set up. I researched while Steve was
driving and within minutes I could feel the mood shift and our positivity start
to come back. We also started talking about what we could do this week – Steve
and I had our first yoga class last week and decided to go again, we thought we
could spend some time at home getting a little more organised around the house,
we could go to my parents place and have afternoon swims in the pool and best
of all, we could just spend time together as a family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s easy to get into a rut when your plans don’t work out.
Especially when plan A, plan B, plan C and plan D all fall through. I've been
there. It can leave you frazzled, without direction and without any motivation
to keep going. I believe it is also important to acknowledge that it really
does suck that your plan didn't work. Get a little annoyed and get a little
cranky, then move forward. If we constantly walk around with a ‘la de da’ ‘everything will be fine’ attitude we can find that when we do burn out, we
crash hard. If we acknowledge the crappiness of the situation at the time, we
don’t allow it to build and fester. We can move on knowing we have dealt with
it. For us it was as simple as being moody for a while then asking the question
‘So what do we do about it?’ What about you? How do you move forward when your
plans fall through?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-37158376518148608652014-11-26T16:32:00.001+10:002014-11-26T16:38:55.685+10:00The Story of Alexander (part 1)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Every pregnancy and birth is a beautiful story unto itself.
No two pregnancies are the same, no two birth stories are the same. Alexander’s
story is quite unique. It was both the most amazing and hardest time of my
life. The story involves 12 months of trying to conceive, a wedding, a
concerning medical diagnosis, intense medical observations, a very negative
marriage and relationship, a stay in Ronald McDonald House, the amazing birth
of my son, surgeries, an extended stay in NICU, the breakdown of my marriage,
the support of my family and friends, finally being able to bring my baby boy
home, a separation, moving my son and I to a new home, the beginning of a new
relationship and the discovery of love greater than I have ever known.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPc4D6AOwDQL0NesaYtjlQ8JSOnYta9OxR9G_y2gzbeRlWhYZLrsPDGOZuQbhHgle3hvEBPo2ttI24cx09-ylvXF06eoJOgb5ibm84UDcwP1NPpzpy7SvMLcOdlgNoT8eBp17BFoAdWVE/s1600/Krystal+&+Alex+COLOUR+025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPc4D6AOwDQL0NesaYtjlQ8JSOnYta9OxR9G_y2gzbeRlWhYZLrsPDGOZuQbhHgle3hvEBPo2ttI24cx09-ylvXF06eoJOgb5ibm84UDcwP1NPpzpy7SvMLcOdlgNoT8eBp17BFoAdWVE/s1600/Krystal+&+Alex+COLOUR+025.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Alexander at 17 weeks - photo courtesy by Matilda Beezley Photography</span></i></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This isn’t going to be a quick, short post. Nothing about
this is simple. So here it is. Here is the Story of Alexander. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had met Peter* when I was working as a Paramedic. One of
the jobs I was on had us cross paths, he worked for another service that we had
contact with and we had seen each other a few times. I had thought he was a
little cute but didn’t think much more of the situation. A few weeks later I
received a message on Facebook – he had asked a co-worker for my details and
they led him to my Facebook page. We met up and hit it off. Things were great
at the start, we went on holidays overseas and throughout Australia, we got
along really well and had fun together. An opportunity came up for me to
transfer to a small country town, around half an hour from where I currently
worked – it was a great increase in pay and would also give me a different
level of exposure for my career. It was too good to pass up. We decided rather
than renting, we would buy a house together. This idea quickly grew into
renovating a house together and the hunt was on. We found a house and spent
every spare moment we had working on it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">During this time things in our relationship started to
change – just little things at first, the way we spoke to each other, things
that never bothered us before started to be an issue. And I noticed that Peter
started to withdraw from me. I never got a kiss hello or goodbye anymore, hugs
were rare and just a general decline in affection. I’m a very affectionate
person so I just put this down to stress of work and renovating the house. We
would talk about it and things would change for a week or two, then settle back
down to how they were beforehand. I was quite taken aback when Peter suggested
for us to have a baby. We had spoken about it before, I had always said I
wanted to have kids in the future, as in a few years away still, but Peter was
concerned about his age (he was 8 years older than me) and wanted to start
trying soon. I figured our relationship issues would go away once the house was
done or once he was happier at work. I agreed and within the next month ceased
my contraception. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It took us 12 months to conceive. By the later stages of
that 12 months I was having weekly acupuncture, taking 11 supplements a day,
had totally excluded alcohol, was eating the healthiest I had ever eaten in my
life, was exercising 3 – 4 times a week and was becoming increasingly worried
that there was something wrong. Peter hated needles and refused to be ‘checked’
to see if the issues we were having were stemming from his side so I had no
choice but to continue with what I was doing. One night I was called to a job
at work – a delivery. The dispatcher told me the patient was 14 weeks pregnant.
I checked the information again. I was being sent to the delivery of a 14 week foetus.
I prepared myself mentally as best as I could and set off on the job. I met the
other paramedic on scene and we headed to our patient. We entered the house and
met the young girl, around 18 years old – she was sitting on the couch in the
lounge room smoking a cigarette. I asked her what happened and she told me. I
moved the towel she had covering her and saw that she had delivered her baby –
she was 14 weeks and 3 days. At this point my ‘work mode’ usually has kicked in
and I just deal with what is happening, then think about the emotional side of
it all later. I assisted the girl to the stretcher and asked her the usual
questions. This was her third pregnancy. She had delivered one child who was
now 6 months old, and had a previous miscarriage. She heavily smokes, heavily
drinks, and uses recreational drugs. It was what she said next that shocked me
the most. I must have been looking quite sad or something because she looked at
me and said ‘it will be okay – I’ll just get pregnant again in a month or two’.
I felt my heart shatter. Why was it so easy for her to fall pregnant and not
me?? I carried on treating my patient, gave the handover to the hospital,
locked myself in a room and cried. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">While we were rushing to finish off the renovations of our
house, and finalising plans for the house we were planning to build (while I
was battling with Hyperemesis Gravidarum and losing weight fast) Peter said to
me ‘perhaps we should get married’. Wait… what?? I had mentioned to Peter prior
to getting pregnant that it would have been nice to be married before we had a
baby but I didn’t mean like this. Peter explained that he wanted his family to
be complete – and by that he meant for us to all have the same last name. I was
shocked. I didn’t want to have a big baby belly for the wedding. Peter’s
resolve to that was for us to get married soon. As in, in a few weeks. I had
never really wanted a big fuss of a wedding so I went along with it and said
yes. He seemed quite passionate about it all. I had told him I would take care
of the wedding plans if he just looked after the plans for the house. Although
he agreed to this I knew it would never actually be the case. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We were married 5 weeks later – a simple wedding? It was
anything but. We were married on Australia Day 2013 – it was predicted that we
would have around 90mm’s of rain that day. That’s a lot of rain on any day, let
alone your wedding. We actually received 380mm’s of rain on our wedding day. Not
only did we have torrential rain but we all ended up flooded in. Us and 40
guests were stuck for 4 days. Our photographer managed to get out of the main
area we were in but had her own issues on the way home – almost being washed
away in a quickly rising river, being taken in by a nearby family and preparing
to be air rescued. It was full on. Peter and I barely saw each other during
that time – he wanted me to spend all of my time with his family (he didn’t
like me spending much time with my family, I never really understood why, and
this was a real eye opener for how much he was trying to keep me from my
family). We argued, a lot. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. Again, I
chalked it all down to stress. We finally were able to make it home and pack
for our Honeymoon to Fiji. We were at dinner with some friends a few nights
before we left and Peter was joking around with a friend of ours about how we
argued after the wedding – he then told our friend, in front of everyone, how
he would rather take him to Fiji than me and proceeded to put me down in front
of everyone. I was mortified. He had always had little stabs at me before but
this was the first time he really had a go at me in front of everyone. I
started to wonder if I was really as bad as what he made me out to be. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After our Honeymoon (we were evacuated from one of the
islands due to an impending tsunami) and another little camping holiday (of
which we had to leave early due to heavy rain and flooding) we came home and
settled back into our lives. It was coming up to our 20 week anatomy scan and I
was getting very excited. We were going to find out if we were having a girl or
a boy and more importantly, find out if they were growing properly and all
healthy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The day of the scan came, our appointment was at 9am, nice
and early. We were called into the room and the sonographer introduced herself.
She put the doppler on my belly and within seconds we heard the gorgeous sound
of our baby’s heart beating. She asked if we wanted to find out the sex of the
baby and we both said ‘yes’. ‘Congratulations’ she said, ‘you’re having a boy’.
My eyes started welling with tears of joy. I had a feeling from the moment I
found out I was pregnant that this little bean would be a boy. I was overjoyed.
The sonographer explained that she would now take a series of measurements and
photographs to ensure everything was tracking well with our son. I let her
continue pressing the Doppler into my tummy, and started to notice that she was
taking a lot of measurements of particular areas, and paying a lot of attention
to the lungs. She had a puzzled look on her face. This was taking a lot longer
than I thought it would and I was starting to worry. She explained that she
just needed to go and speak to one of the obstetricians and left the room. My
heart sunk. What could be wrong? I did everything right. I don’t drink, I ate
well, I exercise as directed to. What did I do wrong? The Obstetrician came
into the room with the Sonographer and said that they had found some
abnormalities and wanted to talk to us more in private. We followed him into
his office and answered a barrage of questions. I asked him to explain to me
what they found. The baby’s bowel was slightly distended and they had found a
small amount of fluid on the baby’s right lung. There was no clear answer as to
what this could mean, but he explained he wanted to refer us on to the Maternal
Foetal Medicine unit at a specialist hospital in a city a few hours away. He
wasn’t sure if they would want to see me immediately so I had to wait to hear.
I was directed to the waiting room and I sat there, thinking, waiting, over
thinking, scared… for four hours. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The obstetrician finally came back out to see me and told me
that the specialist hospital would be in contact with me and I would expect to
see them in the next few days. I have never known a feeling like this before.
Absolute helplessness. I cried. It was all I could do. I hoped, I wished and I
prayed that my little boy would be okay and it was just a mistake. I went on to
see the specialists at the Maternal Foetal Medicine unit. They explained that
they could no longer see the fluid on the lungs that was initially found and
that it seemed to just correct itself. They did however see the distention of
his bowel and that it was of considerable concern. It seemed that there was
something causing a blockage but until he was born they weren’t able to tell
what. I was to continue to see the specialists at Maternal Foetal Medicine at
the Mater Hospital until the baby was born, and that I would also have to deliver
him at the Mater Mother’s Hospital – an hour and a half away from my home.
There were more meetings with nurses, midwives, counsellors, specialists and
they were talking about staying near the hospital, surgery after he was born,
perhaps having to have him early. My mind was racing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Over the next few months I had several more appointments,
scans every two weeks and prepared for being away from home for who knows how
long. I was told that I would have to be in Brisbane from 36 weeks in case I
had the baby early. We were going to be staying at Ronald McDonald House, right
near the hospital. We were also told that our baby would most likely have
surgery straight after he was born, then have to stay in the NICU (Neonatal
Intensive Care Unit) for some time. Time was a concept, I quickly began to
realise, that no one really had any solid understanding of. Nothing was able to
be measured definitively. It all changed, day by day, depending on the
circumstances at the time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEippNoBXgE594pLbWym59JPDD9J4jzkV5VHtmfIhSUuUhPNRlUeYSATY2BMvlyMpSrm4qYyOXfN5WI-1MmR9I88J8YRUqfIi6hTcLKs895m_E75St3Vtq32WD4i_AQSNq29vEBz0Z6sEaE/s1600/IMG_0116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEippNoBXgE594pLbWym59JPDD9J4jzkV5VHtmfIhSUuUhPNRlUeYSATY2BMvlyMpSrm4qYyOXfN5WI-1MmR9I88J8YRUqfIi6hTcLKs895m_E75St3Vtq32WD4i_AQSNq29vEBz0Z6sEaE/s1600/IMG_0116.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></span></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>35 weeks pregnant, I was still so tiny - photo by Matilda Beezley Photography</i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Once I reached 36 weeks, I stopped work (yes, I worked on
road as a Paramedic right up to 36 weeks) and moved ourselves into our room at
Ronald McDonald House. There I waited, and waited. At 37 weeks and 3 days I
started having excruciating back pain. The only way I was comfortable was
standing, sitting on an exercise ball or laying on the bed with my knees tucked
in under me and my head down. At 37 weeks and 4 days my membranes ruptured. I
was so excited to meet my little man. We called the hospital and they told us
to head over. My contractions were difficult to measure as I had been having
Braxton Hicks since I was 16 weeks pregnant. I called my mum and she and my
brother jumped in the car to come to see me – driving the 3 hours to get to
Mater Hospital from where they lived. After 11 hours of labour I was finally at
the stage where they would allow me to push. They had taken the gas off me and
I had no pain relief. Because they didn’t know what to expect when the baby was
born they had a barrage of people there waiting in the room for him to be
delivered, the midwives, obstetrician, NICU nurses, neonatologists, neonatal
surgeon… a lot of people. The midwife was encouraging me, telling me everything
was fine. I knew it wasn’t fine. I had been listening to the monitor of my
son’s heart beat for the last 11 hours – it had sat at a steady 140 beats the
whole time. I was now ticking along at a very slow 30 beats per minute. I know
that’s bad. I knew I had to get him out but I was exhausted. The midwife
realised I knew what was wrong, she looked at me and said ‘you need to get him
out now’. It took every ounce of energy I could possibly muster but a few
seconds later I heard my son cry for the first time. I didn’t get to cuddle him
straight away. They took him over to the resuscitation area to be checked over
and ensure he was okay after having a heart rate so low. The finally carried
him over to me and I had my first cuddle with the little man who owns my world.
He was perfect. I was allowed to cuddle him for a few minutes before they took
him away to the NICU.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the first 6 hours of Alexander’s life he had more tests
and scans done than most people have by the time they are adults. At the 6<sup>th</sup>
hour Alexander had his first surgery. He had a complete bowel obstruction, they
removed 8cm of his small intestine. He would have to have another surgery in
the future (again there was no time frame given) to rejoin his intestine – they
were unable to rejoin it initially due to the complications from the
obstruction. Alexander was intubated and sedated following his surgery. I
cannot being to explain the way it feels to see your newborn son lying sedated
with machines assisting him to breathe, knowing you cannot cuddle him, you
cannot feed him and you cannot do what it is that comes natural to a mother. I
stayed with him as long as I could, the nurse that was looking after Alexander
sent me back to my room at around 11pm. She told me I was no good to him if I
couldn’t even look after myself and that I needed rest to be strong. I was back
with him at 7am the next morning. The following night I received a phone call
at 2am – Alexander had pulled his own intubation tube out. They were going to
let him have a go at breathing on his own as he seemed to be quite strong.
There were no issues and he kept getting stronger. The next day he was moved to
another ICU room, one with babies that were still critically ill but a step
down from the initial ICU room. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0K5fRtofAohyoPTIH8SpE79ozSRe2gCwX6w2L6Xq1YhACZWpfI6uy6zHlnv7fvdVvf48fUlka-KMFoW4HeGmnYqn9TZDZtr8FE1uGPfZDGGbfQRH47vcr0Nw6GIYuRF8LqtaJ1QPZOc/s1600/P1100030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF0K5fRtofAohyoPTIH8SpE79ozSRe2gCwX6w2L6Xq1YhACZWpfI6uy6zHlnv7fvdVvf48fUlka-KMFoW4HeGmnYqn9TZDZtr8FE1uGPfZDGGbfQRH47vcr0Nw6GIYuRF8LqtaJ1QPZOc/s1600/P1100030.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Cuddles with Alexander before his first surgery.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We stayed in this room for the next 8 weeks. We met the most
amazing people during this time. Day in and day out I stayed by Alexander’s bed
side. I read Roald Dahl to him each day and told him stories of all the people
he would soon be meeting. I had cuddles with him late into the night and let
him sleep on my chest. Alexander wasn’t allowed to be fed because of the
obstruction he had and complications from it. I pumped breastmilk every 3 to 4
hours. I had a very good supply and the nurses joked that they were going to
have to get another freezer just for me. I met some wonderful people while Alexander
was in NICU, other parents who were going through their own nightmare’s, nurses
who became friends and family and who helped me through the days when things didn’t
go so well with Alexander or when they could tell Peter and I were fighting
badly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUNy4RDUZqkymJoJRKUfOUvgL0AfLu7Sa5yUL4nBNnKPHKHIFO7MC8jNXFHVT6J5FY0ZVpRhQCiKCPutnayrrwBNLMuqvE6DJuMeMWL3Slu04J4576pCgP5lDiWWvBM7IphUhFcmNG4xM/s1600/IMG_1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUNy4RDUZqkymJoJRKUfOUvgL0AfLu7Sa5yUL4nBNnKPHKHIFO7MC8jNXFHVT6J5FY0ZVpRhQCiKCPutnayrrwBNLMuqvE6DJuMeMWL3Slu04J4576pCgP5lDiWWvBM7IphUhFcmNG4xM/s1600/IMG_1968.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Alexander's 'room' in NICU</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Alexander’s stay in NICU was the hardest time of my life.
There is so much more to this story and I do not want to do it any injustice by
skipping through it. So this is Part 1 of the Story of Alexander. It is a
difficult story for me to share – baring myself and sharing our story takes a
lot of courage. Part 2 will come in time. I hope this has given a little more
insight into our world and why it is perfect enough for us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJKRh49-CzJau8e0Apy3oiHCkvRLJp7DDTvMEZby-p_idjF381WqiU_PwJRFRCa-cCrTLCljAASJCf-zIe_6SXvwlIbmn9MeHFY6pSuIgdoY5fm3SH9RVRTq7l12P5k-0xNFGAkoPv6uE/s1600/IMG_20130804_120544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJKRh49-CzJau8e0Apy3oiHCkvRLJp7DDTvMEZby-p_idjF381WqiU_PwJRFRCa-cCrTLCljAASJCf-zIe_6SXvwlIbmn9MeHFY6pSuIgdoY5fm3SH9RVRTq7l12P5k-0xNFGAkoPv6uE/s1600/IMG_20130804_120544.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Tummy time spent on mummy's chest.</i></span></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">*Name has been changed for privacy purposes.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-76566187786445172642014-11-25T12:34:00.001+10:002014-12-29T01:53:59.145+10:00How to Budget on a Budget<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I’m a sucker for pretty stationary – set me loose in a
Kikki.K store and I’ll spend $100 without even thinking on a whole heap of
stationary that promises to keep me organised but is now, months later, still
sitting on my bookshelf unopened (hello recipe book purchased 3 years ago that
is yet to have a single recipe written in it!!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have slowly worked out you need three things to set up a
budget; a pen, a notepad and envelopes. Why envelopes? Because that is where
your cash goes and when you’re on a budget and you want to stick to it, you pay
everything in cash. Cash is money you can see. You can see how much you have,
you can see how much you’re handing over and more importantly, you can see how
much you have left. In an age of plastic it is way too easy to just swipe a
card and <i>ta da </i>I now magically own
this item. At the same time, my back account is depleting faster than I have
noticed and before I realise it there’s not a whole lot left in there. So cash
it is. I remember as a child my parents would use the envelope system (well mum
would use a zip lock bag which is also a great idea because you can see how
much is in it) for holidays. In it would be the fuel money, the food money and
the spending money. There was no dipping into extra funds if there wasn’t enough
in the zip lock bag. It took great saving skills for us to even be able to go
on a holiday and mum made sure everything was accounted for. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, the pen and notepad. You need to actually write out
your budget. I know this sounds simple and some may think unnecessary but
physically writing things down keeps us accountable. I know I have far too many
things going on in my mind to actually remember that this fortnight I also have
to pay for dog registration and swimming lessons for the term. Writing it down
ensures it won’t be forgotten and also ensures you have a clear picture of
where all of your hard earned CASH is going. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You also need to write new budgets on a regular basis,
depending on how often you get paid. For us, we get paid fortnightly so we
write a fortnightly budget, if you get paid weekly then do a weekly budget. If
you get paid monthly things always tend to be a little more difficult as bills
may come in within that month that you may have not accounted for if you do a
monthly budget. I would recommend dividing your pay in half (keep half in a
savings account or offset account) and do a fortnightly budget. There is extra
restraint needed here as you need to make sure you don’t go dipping into your
next fortnights ‘pay’. You can also save extra interest though by paying it
into an offset account. It would be rare for your budget to be exactly the same
two times in a row – there are always new things that pop up, whether it is a
extra trip away where you need more fuel or a phone bill that comes in. This is
why it is so important to write a new budget for each pay. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, from your budget you will be able to tell how many
envelopes you need. Label each one such as ‘groceries’, ‘fuel’, ‘spending
money’ and put the cash in there that you have budgeted for. I understand that
now we also have a lot of bills paid via direct debit or BPAY. Make sure you
pay your BPAY bills first, on the very same day you get paid, then withdraw the
remaining cash, with the exception of any money needed to be left for direct
debits. You won’t be able to accidently spend this money as you will know the
only money in that account is going to be taken in direct debit payments. Now
fill those envelopes up. It may take a few budget attempts to finesse where
your money is actually going. For example, we had thought originally that $300
per fortnight would be enough for groceries but after a few budgets we realised
that we really needed to increase it to $400 to then include the ability to buy
meat in bulk. You’ll be surprised at how much you can save simply by physically
seeing where your money goes and not allowing the sneaky little purchases here
and there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYMzFwcf7IC54Z380H_TFqckhbNi1N-qdmOWg3ONnK2Yo8bPwQBp2IL4PWHExkVFuwwV-NBikVF0vvlL2-7pN-C6QIL-aNycaEgpURrAVl6ZlXeXN3c7-aw_eUAkmzhFfQbrw3K3eos0/s1600/budgets+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYMzFwcf7IC54Z380H_TFqckhbNi1N-qdmOWg3ONnK2Yo8bPwQBp2IL4PWHExkVFuwwV-NBikVF0vvlL2-7pN-C6QIL-aNycaEgpURrAVl6ZlXeXN3c7-aw_eUAkmzhFfQbrw3K3eos0/s1600/budgets+2.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A few extra tips:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Make sure you allow in
your budget money to spend to spoil yourself</i>. You will never stick to a
budget if you don’t have a realistic amount of money to spend on yourself.
You’re important too!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Pay extra money off
your debts with the highest interest first</i>. Usually this goes credit card
first, followed by personal loans, then the home loan. Also speak with your
bank if you have both personal and home loans, they may be able to roll them
all into one for you, reducing the interest significantly. (Do be mindful of
new loan fees etc – you may save $300 in interest but have to pay $600 in loan
fees.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Shop the catalogues</i>.
In my town we have a Coles and Woolworths, and while I was a devoted Coles
shopper for many years we now use the two interchangeably. Their catalogues
usually come out each week and their specials usually start on a Wednesday. I
pay particular attention to higher ticket items – cleaning products, toiletries
and food we use often. There are regularly half price specials that allow me to
stock up on more of that item at that time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Meal Plan.</i> I have
to admit, I am pretty bad at this but the times we do use a meal plan we see a
marked decrease in how much money we spend on food that fortnight. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do you have any budget tips or tricks that work for you??</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-5525769468927576882014-11-20T06:28:00.000+10:002015-01-01T07:28:05.968+10:00I wish I could do it better....<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>WE HAVE MOVED</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>You can now find this post at</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/i-wish-i-could-do-it-better.html">http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/i-wish-i-could-do-it-better.html</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What’s one thing you wish you could do better that would
make your life easier? Just one small, simple thing that if done regularly
would make things easier. Do you wish you could meal plan, or perhaps stick to
a budget, or maybe you need to be able to leave work at work? For me its
organisation. I have the basics down pat, I can write a list (or 10 lists
including a list of lists to write – I love lists!!) I can get the washing done
and getting Alexander ready of a morning, when I am running late or have a
million things to do I am incredibly organised. It’s when I get those few
moments of quiet time – when Alexander is having his nap, or when he has gone
to bed, or down time at work, that’s when I fall apart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Take this morning for example – Alexander woke up at 4:30am
and was crying out for Mummy, I went into his room and reminded him that it was
too early to get up and he needed to go back to sleep (amazingly he actual laid
back down and didn’t complain). After this I was wide awake – I climbed back
into bed though thinking I’d try and get a little more sleep – my mind was
racing so I picked up my phone… one hour later I realised I had done absolutely
nothing productive and had just read Facebook posts of various groups I was in.
One hour – in one hour I could have had my morning chores done, cooked
breakfast for the family, done a work out or morning Yoga, checked emails and
responded, written more lists (including one for our upcoming camping trip),
started packing for the aforementioned camping trip… the possibilities are
endless! But instead I stalked Facebook. It’s times like this that I am glad
that my Facebook account is used purely for groups I am in (my mother’s group
for July 2013 is amazing!!) and not for personal friends and family. These are
the times that frustrate me. My brother has a tattoo of a quote on his foot that
says ‘<i>Anything lost can be found again, except for time wasted.’ </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> There’s so much I
want to get done, and plan to get done, however sometimes the lure of half an
hour of uninterrupted me time, relaxing on the lounge, or shamelessly stalking
Facebook, is just too hard to pass up (actually there’s a lot of shame to the amount
of time wasted on Facebook). Now, I am not saying we need to fill every second
of every day, down time is important especially for us Mumma’s. My biggest
problem is that my half hour down time quickly turns into two hours of watching
TV (hello Ellen and TMZ) and Facebook stalking people who offer no motivation,
benefit or enlightenment to my life. So here’s my pledge:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I WILL schedule in down time for myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I WILL set a half hour timer and stick to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I WILL NOT feel guilty if I spend that entire half hour
sitting on my lounge eating the block of chocolate I’ve had to hide from Steve
(seriously, I have to hide it or he will eat it all).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I WILL make a list each day of all the things I wish to
achieve during the down time I do have.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIexpDDnvzNOSl79in24JwhU_9gjOtEcf_GAfVX9bSo_jTDz10LGgxUvEoV39vD8ieneY45PGgyqJCuhNREtsUetJJcmkCw9MTVqqp4jxqmPEKnFvOYCCN2NBCIudcmT3kOf-XnkMxI4/s1600/IMG_20141117_082704.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEIexpDDnvzNOSl79in24JwhU_9gjOtEcf_GAfVX9bSo_jTDz10LGgxUvEoV39vD8ieneY45PGgyqJCuhNREtsUetJJcmkCw9MTVqqp4jxqmPEKnFvOYCCN2NBCIudcmT3kOf-XnkMxI4/s1600/IMG_20141117_082704.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Schedule in some 'me' time...</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So, after feeling ridiculously guilty for ‘wasting’ an hour
this morning, I climbed out of bed, made myself a lovely cup of coffee, said
good morning to the dog and sat down to write this post and have already
finished my list for the day. Definitely feeling more organised and productive
already. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-60584533897967978612014-11-19T17:33:00.000+10:002015-01-01T07:27:14.615+10:00Have you got your Sh*t together?<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>WE HAVE MOVED</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>You can now find this post at</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/have-you-got-your-sht-together.html">http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/have-you-got-your-sht-together.html</a></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Well do you? I don’t. Not always anyway. Sometimes I feel
like I am failing and feel like I am the worst
mum/fiancé/sister/daughter/employee/person. You know the days I am talking
about – where from the moment your feet hit the ground you’re running late, you
pour sour milk into your coffee and wonder just how many days have you been
drinking off milk, you realise you forgot to feed the dog yesterday and he is
looking at you with those begging eyes, you get into your car to do the daycare
or school run and the empty tank light is flashing at you… and the day has
barely begun. So why is it that some women look like everything just works for
them? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was driving to see my cousin a few days ago, I don’t get
to see her very often as we live a few hours apart and we don’t really talk too
much because sometimes life just gets in the way, but on the drive over I was
thinking to myself ‘she really has her shit together.’ My cousin is a gorgeous
woman, she is a stay at home mum who
just had her third child, a gorgeous little girl who is all smiles, she
posted on Instagram a few days ago that at just 11 weeks old she started
sleeping through the night (my 16 month old son still wakes at least once), her
kids are always happy, they are always doing things, building things, being
creative and she seems to be that mum that just makes me feel like the one who
is doing something wrong. On top of all of this she also drives 25 minutes to
drop her eldest at school and collect him each weekday and her husband works
away at random times. She does all of this with no family close by and has her
friends to help out on the occasion that she needs it. I was envious. I am
envious. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I arrived at my cousins house she greeted me at the
door, looking amazing of course and invited me in. We had our chats and caught
up on what had been happening in our lives. She had lunch made in next to no
time for her two year old and Alexander and they both sat and ate their
lunches. She was telling me about how her husband was away for most of the
week. I couldn’t imagine how she was coping with it all so I had to ask. I
blurted out ‘How on earth do you do all of this? Three kids and a husband away
– you are amazing.’ Her response was so simple – I’m organised. She explained
to me what her days look like and how she makes sure things are set out for her
oldest son to then help out his little brother with their night time routine,
that she starts cooking dinner at lunch and you know what? When she laid it all
out like that it seemed so simple, so methodical. I still think she is amazing,
I just now see the real kind of amazing she is. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_lcGaSeZSSwkJSDxRIzxUbAvggJU30aoDQ_kvGxQ4serJ15cO8ayU2LSpaOPWHxk6jHP4iTRTEap97VFRYO50gVsAjzg1GaZv13kmSILQw3XcOWiEyVjdPGqoOVDHo1y9RAMLqbaN4I/s1600/IMG_20140225_112107.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY_lcGaSeZSSwkJSDxRIzxUbAvggJU30aoDQ_kvGxQ4serJ15cO8ayU2LSpaOPWHxk6jHP4iTRTEap97VFRYO50gVsAjzg1GaZv13kmSILQw3XcOWiEyVjdPGqoOVDHo1y9RAMLqbaN4I/s1600/IMG_20140225_112107.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes I take the opportunity of a drive to reflect on where I am in life...</span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So on my drive home my train of thought wrapped around my
day to day life with Alexander and Steve, thinking about how we organise
ourselves and our work. It made me realise I was being way too harsh on myself
earlier. Some days I really do have my shit together. Some days our routine
just falls into place, everything clicks, we get to daycare and work on time,
Alexander is happy when I pick him up and our afternoons are fun, dinner (a
healthy one too) is served at a reasonable hour and bedtime goes smoothly. Some
days everything just works. I realised that sometimes I need to just give myself
a break, cut myself a little slack and know that things are going to be okay.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In a nutshell I realised:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> - Sometimes it’s okay to give your kids nothing but crackers
for lunch because that is all they will eat and you’re just not up for the
argument. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> - It’s okay to hate your job some days and dream of bigger
things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> - Sometimes it’s okay to feel like you are not moving forward
and all you’re doing is paddling like mad. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The key is to recognise these things, give yourself some
grace and have ideas and ways to move forward, to get around them and to keep
going. Not all days are happy but most of them should be. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-91014390942272234442014-11-15T20:00:00.000+10:002015-01-01T07:26:21.837+10:00The Honesty Policy<div style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>WE HAVE MOVED</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>You can now find this post at</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/the-honesty-policy.html">http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/the-honesty-policy.html</a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With such crazy, hectic and downright busy lives how do we make our relationships work? We are told repeatedly that communication is the key but what exactly is communication to you? I'm not talking about just getting through the day with a 'welcome home honey, the child needs a bath while I cook dinner' kind of communication. I'm talking about what YOUR expectations of communication are and if they marry up with your significant others.</span></div>
<div style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, I'm no expert on relationships and mine certainly isn't a perfect one, but it works well for us. We both have relationship experience, most of which was negative and it has taught us what we do and do not want out of our relationship. Steve was with his teenage girlfriend turned wife for 16 years in total and married for 13 years. I've been married and had my fair share of medium length (2 - 5 years) relationships that were very involved as well as a few shorter ones that ended as soon as I started to see things I did not like. We both learnt a lot about what is important to us in relationships and even before we were dating and when we were both still married to others we had conversations about our basic relationship expectations. Steve and I were friends and colleagues for almost four years before we started dating and we saw in each other the negative effects our relationships had on each of us.</span></div>
<div style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So what did that mean for us? Not long after we started dating we were talking about our expectations of a relationship, simple things like being able to talk openly with each other and not be criticised, to be able to speak positively to each other and one of my big expectations is to never be sworn at. It was during this conversation that we came up with the 'honesty policy'. Put simply, what it means is that we will always be honest with each other about everything including how we feel because we promise to never be negative towards the other. It took us both some time to be able to realise just how massively this impacted our relationship, and only in a positive way. We slowly noticed just how much we had shut down lines of communication in previous relationships because of negative reactions from our previous partners. Now, whenever either one of us brings us a topic that we feel is sensitive or something that we may not have bought up otherwise we usually have a conversation that goes along the lines of... 'honesty policy... When you said.... this morning it made me feel like.... because I thought you meant....' The honesty policy has served us well and has seen us through times of meeting each other's families, moving in together, going through divorces, custody battles and blending our families. I truly believe it makes us stronger and we have no fear of communication because of it.</span></div>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;" style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px; text-align: center;">
<a data-mce-href="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/img_20140702_160446.jpg" href="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/img_20140702_160446.jpg" style="-webkit-transition: all 0.2s ease-in-out; color: #1c7c7c; text-decoration: none; transition: all 0.2s ease-in-out;"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><img alt="IMG_20140702_160446" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-15" data-mce-src="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/img_20140702_160446.jpg?w=300" height="300" src="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/11/img_20140702_160446.jpg?w=300" style="border: 0px; height: auto; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-top: 14px; max-width: 100%;" width="300" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So when was the last time you were truly honest with your significant other?</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08498106224455725536noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7761564161012358732.post-46003650575858527612014-11-13T20:27:00.000+10:002015-01-01T07:25:21.082+10:00Introductions<div style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>WE HAVE MOVED</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>You can now find this post at</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/introductions.html"><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">http://www.perfectenoughforus.com/2014/11/introductions.html</span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have wanted to start a blog for a while. I love telling stories. I love talking about myself and my life and I absolutely love hearing other people stories. I have struggled with coming up with a theme and ideas of what to talk about – I’m a paramedic but there is so much more to my life than work, I have a 16 month old son who provides me with so many stories to tell – but again, there is so much more to me than being a mum, I am a fiance to the most amazing man on the earth who I literally want to spend every minute of everyday with but I don't know how many people want to read all my soppy stories, I eat a predominantly primal diet and love coming up with new recipes, but as I type this I am eating a bag of Allen’s lollies so I’m not exactly the best role model there. So I figured I’m just going to write about it all.</span></div>
<div style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px;">
<img alt="IMG_20141023_090641" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-9 aligncenter" data-mce-src="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/img_20141023_090641.jpg?w=300" height="300" src="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/img_20141023_090641.jpg?w=300" style="clear: both; display: block; height: auto; margin: 14px auto; max-width: 100%;" width="300" /></div>
<div style="color: #666666; line-height: 30.6000003814697px; margin-bottom: 27px;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This won’t be a blog about working in emergency services, this won’t be a blog about being a mum and being a step mum, this won't be a blog about relationships and love, this won’t be a blog about being primal and it certainly won’t be a blog about how to do anything perfectly. It will be a blog about everything – my perfect life that is a result of being so imperfect at so many things. I love my life – it has had so many ups and downs but it is mine and all of its imperfections make it perfect. It makes it perfect enough for us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, here's a quick little intro to me. My name is Krystal and </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 30.6000003814697px;">I am a first time mum. I'm a fiance, a daughter, a soon-to-be step mum, a sister and a friend (sometimes neglectful). I'm a Paramedic, an avid knitter, a wannabe photographer, a try hard health and fitness nut and an all round life lover.</span><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I have a gorgeous son, Alexander (16 months old already - where has that time gone??) from my first marriage. I can honestly say I never knew love until I felt him kick inside of me for the first time. He is my little dude and keeps me on my toes and thoroughly entertained everyday. My fiance, Steve, is my rock in my everyday life. He is my dream, my love, my perfect one. I could talk about him all day!!! Steve is a Paramedic too, we get to work together and we love it. We met at work over 5 years ago and became great friends. We were able to support each other through our separate marriage breakdowns and from that our relationship bloomed. We haven’t been together too long in the grand scheme of things but are 100% committed to each other. He is my one and my only. I want to keep talking about how much I love him but I’m mindful about coming across as all mushy. Steve has 3 children from his previous marriage, Mr S (11), Miss I (8) and Miss F (4). We are in the early days of blending our families and we have had our ups and downs already.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the majority of the time it's just Steve, Alexander and I at home and to me, this is my perfect little family. For many reasons we don't get to spend a lot of time with Steve's kids so we decided a while ago instead of letting it get us down we would make the most of the time with them that we do get and for the time in between we have our normal, everyday family life. Steve is more of a father to Alexander than I ever could have imagined possible and I am so grateful everyday that my son will have such a positive and strong male role model in his life. Families look different to everyone, and this is how ours looks for now.</span></div>
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<a data-mce-href="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/img_20140610_145442.jpg" href="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/img_20140610_145442.jpg" style="-webkit-transition: all 0.2s ease-in-out; color: #1c7c7c; text-decoration: none; transition: all 0.2s ease-in-out;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img alt="IMG_20140610_145442" class="alignnone size-medium wp-image-8" data-mce-src="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/img_20140610_145442.jpg?w=300" height="300" src="https://theperfectlyimperfectblog.files.wordpress.com/2014/10/img_20140610_145442.jpg?w=300" style="border: 0px; height: auto; margin-bottom: 14px; margin-top: 14px; max-width: 100%;" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My First Mothers Day 2013</span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So there's a quick run down on me and what I am doing here. Tell me... who are you and what are you doing here?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">xo</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Krystal</span></div>
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