5am…? What’s the deal?
“Mummy… Mummy cuddle” says Miss Bee.
After going to bed at 1.30am after watching the New Year fireworks on TV then finishing the movie I was not prepared for that rude awakening.
Darling hubby suggested bringing her into our bed. Bad idea. She was rocking and rolling trying to initiate a conversation about Hey Dugee and Peppa pig whilst doing some sort of contortionist acrobatic trick. Then started up about playing with her new Ikea kitchen.
Luckily for me darling hubby volunteered to get up.
Now for the weirdest part. I slept until 9. Went out expecting to tag team so he could sleep. But apparently she’d played at the kitchen briefly, run off into the lounge area… Been removed amidst tears while mean daddy closed the doors. Russled about on her kitchen briefly… Then lay on the familyroom rug and fell asleep in situ until 9!
Darling hubby got to sleep (probably somewhat uncomfortably) on the adjacent lounge as he wasn’t game to move Sleeping Beauty.
Can’t complain too much only gained 800g. Already lost 600g of that.
This year I’m looking forward to losing at least 5kg in my day dream state… 10kg. Perhaps I’ll cut the difference and make it 7.5kg?
I’ve lost weight before. I’m currently nearly 50kg lighter than my highest known weight. I say known as there was a point I refused to weigh myself. I did it myself, I know what to do. I also know the last few kilos are the hardest.
For many years I sat about 5kg lighter than now. But then I had an accident which resulted in me completely ruining my knee while riding a mountain bike. I couldn’t drive for 5 months, I had surgery to repair it, I was on crutches for months and needed physio and hydrotherapy. All that enforced sitting played havoc with my weight. I managed to only gain 4kg. Then I started IVF while still on crutches… 2 years of hormones, intralipids and prednisone saw me up 10kg. Then there was finally a high risk pregnancy where I wasn’t allowed to exercise and had to rest heaps. That left me 22kg heavier postnatally. I’ve clawed my way back slowly. Tried to battle the stress eating demon, mostly winning lately.
I have the last 5kg to go to reconcile life events. To find me again.
I couldn’t resist tarting up my Greek salad tonight. Since having pomegranate with avocado I’m addicted.
I started with a regular Greek salad
Feta cheese cubes
Diced red capsicum
Black olives to taste
I skipped the onion as I didn’t fancy it today
Instead I added
Seeds from half a pomegranate
With all those flavors bursting through I didn’t think it needed a dressing. It didn’t. But if you had to, a small drizzle of lemon juice would suffice. But at least try it naked first. Serve on a bed of ripped cos lettuce.
Kofta consisted of beef mince with lashings of garlic, chilli, paprika, pepper, cardamom and parsley. Fresh parsley would be perfect but I only had dried.
If you were feeling exceptionally decedent add a spoon of yogurt onto the cooked meat. I didn’t though.
I’m starting at a new school next year.
After years of teaching preschool and early intervention I’m taking the leap into grade 1.
I’ll have a unique opportunity to jump in with fresh ideas. My principal is looking for change and wants me to implement playbased learning. Which is what I do on preschool and with Miss Bee.
This challenge will be doing all this with a different curriculum, documenting adequately for assessment and winning the parents over.
I think I’ve pinned about a million pins to inspire me.
Message to all cafes.
I don’t want to eat a salad in a jar. It’s called a plate. I’m not buying lunch to store it next to the sugar. I shouldn’t haves to tip my food out onto a coffee saucer.
Why is the everything served on a plank of narrow wood?
She loved Christmas. Her Ikea kitchen, the Christmas lights, baby Jesus “baby dee sars”, eating chocolate for breakfast and generally getting thoroughly spoiled.
Three years ago I said to my hubby that I had reached breaking point with IVF. That if the cycle starting in January wasn’t a success I would have to walk away with empty arms.
The line in the sand is a fluid one. Often thinking you’ve reached your limit only to redefine limits. For me, when the emotional pain of failure outweighs the emotional pain of walking away it’s time to stop trying.
The other day I did the craziest thing. I saw a long term neighbour who lives down the street walking his dogs. I know for him and his wife the line was drawn. Hope was lost. They walked away without a baby. I ran up and called out to him. I asked the unthinkable question infertile couples don’t want to be asked. I asked if they were done, completely done? At first he said yes. But then I took a deep breath and explained my rudeness. You see, I have a chance for dreams in my hands. I have 6 frozen embryos. He said he’ll speak with his wife. More than anything I pray they try again. Miss Bee is a crazy, naughty, clever, charismatic little human who lights up the darkness with her radiance. I pray that they could have that light too.