tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24977525935010690812024-03-12T18:27:25.569-07:00Organised ChaosAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.comBlogger111125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-7211620327621736142012-07-25T23:18:00.002-07:002012-07-25T23:18:27.279-07:00Minus One.While the Mister was away for work a little while ago, i thought i would surprise him with some non-iphone photos of the family.<br />
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<br />
A sneaky bribe to feed the on looking horses, self timer and the boot of our people mover, 40 runs back and forth to the camera to see if i got 'that shot' and some crazy jokes to get some smiles and im pleased to day we got a photo.<br />
This is my tribe, minus one.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-14483544825586618782012-01-31T03:31:00.000-08:002012-01-31T03:31:19.677-08:00{ Fantastic February }<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As i sit her and scoff my last bag of M&M's im actually feeling quiet <strike>sick and chocolate overloaded</strike> excited about tomorrow!<br />
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Tomorrow is the first day of February, the month of my birthday and first wedding anniversary which also falls on my late grandfathers birthday and the month i find my will power again.<br />
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In November 2006 for the first time in my life i found the will power to give away all foods that were bad for my temple. My body is my temple. And right now, im treating it like a caravan.<br />
For 4 months i had NO takeaway whatsoever. I didnt even experience a lick of chicken salt off a juicy KFC chip.. Remembering, our gastric band does give away the junk food, or take the mars bar out of your tight gripped hand to toss it in the bin, Our will power does<br />
And my will power and i have not been on the same page of late.<br />
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My strongest cravings are first and foremost, chocolate.<br />
I could easily eat a whole block in one sitting, in one breath.<br />
If there were no chocolate, i would probably dig in to the potato chips..<br />
Cheese and onion.. Om nom nom.<br />
Then anything savory. Pies, Pastries, Pizza, Burgers... Anything really.<br />
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Now my band doesn't allow alot of these divine treats, but i can cheat.<br />
Give me a glass of coke on the side and it slowly moves the food through my band.<br />
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Coke, another thing i could easily go a litre of.<br />
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So, I have NO chocolate, NO soft drink , NO sweets, NO savories and NO treats in my house.<br />
Oh i lie, i have an unopened bag of choc coated honeycomb.<br />
And i plan on it staying unopened.<br />
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I am actually excited about the new and improved menu!<br />
Tonight i dived into a delicious ham and salad sand which.<br />
Honestly, that had so much more taste and flavour then any of the fast cooked meals ive made recently!<br />
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I am one for convenience.<br />
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If its not in front of me like a bag of crisps or a chocolate bar.. I usually 1. Dont have time and 2. Cant be bothered to get anything else. So i have changed that.<br />
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I chopped , grated and emptied all my salads and hams in to containers, put my fruit on an easy to reach level and my 2.5L jug of water within reach in my fridge. <br />
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Tomorrow i delete caffeine , chocolate, artificial sugars, processed foods and un healthy snacks from my life.<br />
Tomorrow my addiction to exercise starts kicking off with an early morning brisk walk / run / minor heart attack on the curb of my street... And some days sweating it out at the gym.<br />
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You know, I was admitting to my good friend the other day that i am actually a fantastic gym member. I've been a loyal member at my local fitness center for just over a year. Ive never missed a payment, Nor have i put my membership on hold.<br />
I always smile at the instructors if i see them shopping in the center and im proud to say '<i>Thanks, But im already a member</i>' when they are signing others up in the shopping center stands.<br />
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I joined my gym with my best friend when she moved back home from Kiwi-land and im fairly sure ive stepped foot inside ..around.. 7 or 8 times? 2 of those being to use their scales and one to 'check in' on facebook as a running joke with a friend..<br />
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Lame right!? $28.00 a fortnight, to be eligible to have a tag swinging off my set of keys.. SO, this week ive cut myself a deal. If i dont attend the gym to WORK OUT at least twice, I quit.<br />
I put my $28.00 away and by myself a new outfit on the first of March.<br />
(Ngawai.. you here that woman!?)<br />
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It begins.. <i>Fan-fricken-tastic Feb-rocking-raury! </i><br />
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Im excited! I love a challenge, and to know my body is going to be the one thankful for it and reaping the rewards makes it 150% better!<br />
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x N<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-18990355688601286512012-01-23T02:52:00.000-08:002012-01-23T03:19:28.245-08:00You cant lie to your heart..I met a guy just over 4 years ago.. He was funny, loud, caring, romantic and super cute. A guy who help me live life and raise my gorgeous little boy..<br />
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A few years later.. add some more kids, some stress, an illness, some relocating, a wedding, some unlucky times and lack of knowledge about each other and our worlds suddenly crumbled.<br />
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The girl he met.. Turned in to a depressed, stressed, worrying house wife, and a fixer. I was out to fix the world.. while my family crumbled. Rapidly.<br />
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That guy i met turned in to a very sad, withdrawn man who i lost my connection with.<br />
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While i was busy fixing a very sick little boy, he was burying himself in work to support the family financially then returning home to turmoil.<br />
I didn't see that guy i met anymore, all i saw was a man i was married to.. but for what reasons i didn't know.<br />
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We stopped talking. Became more flat mates and occasional friends then husband and wife.<br />
We would take turns in going out, instead of going out together.<br />
We stopped laughing and started yelling. Yelling to get our points across.<br />
We stopped smiling and started rolling our eyes.<br />
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Then we hit breaking point and it ended. Ending knowing it can be fixed, is the worst kind of ending in my opinion.. Knowing there is still hope, but to stubborn to do anything about it.<br />
Forcing yourself to stop loving. Voicing your 'head' feelings to others, in hope it will change your 'heart' feelings.<br />
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'Yeah, its been over for a long time really'<br />
'We just fell out of love i guess'<br />
'We didn't real give it enough time to get to know each other, then before we knew it we were pregnant.. then pregnant again.. then married!'<br />
'We just drifted apart'<br />
'We both want different things'<br />
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Knowing it was all a load of crap.. We just didn't talk! We forgot to converse.<br />
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The only way we could talk to each other was by yelling, and yell we did.<br />
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Until one day i said leave. Before our children become to affected, you need to leave.<br />
And that weekend he did.<br />
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Hubby flatted with a friend for a few months while we sorted out what we wanted out of life. I was positive there was more to it then what i was living. Surely there was that amazing crazy in love feeling that people spoke about, not just a 'have to be happy' life we were living for our kids.<br />
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About 3 months after moving out, not a great deal had changed. We still didnt really understand each other, but more so missed each other more then anything. And we questioned moving back in together. It wasnt the right time, so he started looking for hes own place. Somewhere he could have the kids of a weekend.<br />
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Every night i wondered if we gave up to easy. We didnt do councilling like we promised months and months ago, we didnt get family help, we fought it out not talked it out.. We were 2 lost souls trying to fix something when we didn't know how it broke in the first place!<br />
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After a few harsh words here and there about life style changes, choices and mistakes and being incapable to discuss issues like adults we decided it was probably best we go our separate ways.<br />
Hubby signed a lease on a 3 bed room place and we gave up.<br />
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For the sake of our sanity, we threw it all in.<br />
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I felt like my heart broke in to a billion pieces. I couldn't breathe, i couldn't eat, i was dropping weight more and more each day and i could not believe how easy we just threw away our family. Its like our words meant nothing when we spoke them.<br />
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We broke the promise we made on our wedding day not only to each other but to our kids and we tossed away everything we had made together simply because we were to damn lazy to figure out what the REAL problem was.<br />
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Our problem was NOT that he loved his xbox or online games.. Our problem was not that i enjoyed chatting to my friends on facebook at night.. Or problems were deeper, way deeper. They started way back when the honey moon phase wore off when we first met over 4 years ago. When we forgot to get to know each other.<br />
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We were covering up faults with things that we thought made us happy and lost each other.<br />
Once we realised that we could actually find 'that guy' and 'that girl' again with a bit of hard work and persistence.. it all started to fall in to place.<br />
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I didnt hate him like i thought i did, i hated what we became. I hated that i buried so many hours, days and months into being a doctor and fixing my son that i left the rest of my family behind. I hated that i didnt involve them and leaning on them. I pushed them away.<br />
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I hated that he forgot how to talk to me, he thought by yelling, it would get through. But little did he know, i would shut down, actually forgetting what was said only minutes later!<br />
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Once i realised that, i knew we couldn't give up.<br />
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I drove to his house and begged for him. Cried and cried, telling him it couldnt be to late. If we had the slightest bit of hope and love that we couldnt possibly throw this away. That we need each other and our children need us too.<br />
It wasnt going to be easy but it was going to be worth it. Its going to take hours and hours of marraige and parenting councilling with not just the 2 of us, but the 5 of us to make this work, but we have to try.<br />
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I begged and cried. And he held me for ages, agreed and i knew then, we would be ok.<br />
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For the past few weeks we've spent time talking, Long long talks, alone.<br />
Digging deep in to how we felt and why we felt it. Weve been living our life how we want to not how others think we should be. He lives in his house, i live in mine and eventually we will move back in together. Make our family whole again. (once he starts putting the fricken butter away when hes done with it and stops leaving his jocks on the bathroom floor!)<br />
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We begin counciling next month (was the soonest they could see us) not just for us, but for our 6 year old too. He seemed to have been affected by the arguing also and scored him self a little attitude. The parenting counciling should do us the world of good.<br />
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So ive found 'that guy' again.. the one i laughed with, that i drunkenly told i was crazy about and the one that i fell totally in love with because of his laugh and love. And ive found me again. Its like i see myself through a new set of glasses!<br />
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We gave ourselves a second chance and were going to work our damn hardest to make sure our dreams of growing old in our little Queenslander in the middle of no where come true.<br />
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Because when it seems so easy to throw away.. its because your lying to your heart.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-39886673931117726802012-01-01T14:47:00.000-08:002012-01-01T14:50:25.880-08:00Happiness.. When your dream pants unexpectedly fit!About a month ago i brought a ton of new clothes of a gorgeous lady who sells on facebook. She had the bidding starting at $1 .. so i bid on about 30 things and won them all! One of the items i just HAD to have was a pair of Bardot jeggings.<br />
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Now, i dont have the pins for jeggings, But i had seen these particular ones in the barot store and they are more like jeans, then tights. They were a size 8, but i knew eventually it would be possible. </div>
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And if not, id just frame them and it would be my hope to one day fit them..Ok, i wouldnt, id probably just give them to mum..</div>
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So, off i went to pick up my winnings, Excited to meet my $89.95 pair of jeggings i scored for a couple of dollars.</div>
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I met Lisa, Fell in love with her clothes and rushed home to try them on.</div>
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Only to be greeted by this..<br />
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Yuck.</div>
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Blegh!</div>
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Cry Cry Cry...</div>
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Of course, I phoned mum. </div>
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My source of encouragement... she suggested a band adjustment. I was over eating, had not had a fill in about 6 months and had lost the full feeling.</div>
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But you see for me, to have my band adjusted is a 45 minute drive each way, usually with 3 kids in tow, and then the worry of an over fill and having to go back.. So i just watched what i ate.</div>
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About a week later mum phoned me.. Similar problem, she had put on a few kg's and felt her band wasn't doing its job and needed a fill. </div>
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Knowing we had about a 3 week wait she phoned straight away to book us in at the same time. They got us in 3 days later! </div>
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A few weeks post adjustment and attempting to reach my final goal of 70kg i thought i would dig those depressing jeggings out and hang them by my gym equipment. </div>
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But before that, do another photo update. </div>
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Shock horror.</div>
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I actually started laughing hysterically when i realised, THEY FREAKEN FIT!</div>
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Within around a month with determination, total chocolate and coke deprivation, a pantry clean out of ALL sweets and NO takeaway my dream pants fit!</div>
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Now, for my own happiness its time to trim and tone. </div>
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I want to wear shorts above my knees and skirts without tights! I want to wear short board shorts! or NO board shorts!</div>
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My band loves me when i love it. </div>
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And ive been treating it well, so it looks like ive been rewarded! </div>
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Im so excited to go shopping for my birthday outfit, now that the one i had picked out will be to big :) :)</div>
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x N</div>
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-32832195606981910312011-12-31T16:47:00.000-08:002012-01-01T01:42:45.635-08:00Twenty Twelve..I always thought 2005 was my hardest year. I became a young single parent of a new born and for the first time in 5 years relaunched my life.<br />
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Then along came 2010 .. By the end of 2010 i realized if i could survive that, then i could survive anything. We were blessed with a gorgeous big chubby bundle of blue love by the name of Phoenix who in a blink of an eye was hit with a bucket load of medical issues. A dodgey liver, talk of a transplant, continuous bouts of bronchitis and pneumonia , a heart wrenching liver biopsy, countless hospital visits and continual sickness.. But, as a family we survived.<br />
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2011 was going to be our year.<br />
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We moved to the other side of the gold coast, set up our family in a gorgeous new home and started planning our wedding.<br />
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February i married the man who had stood by my side for the past 3 years helping to raise my son and blessing me with a daughter and a son of our own.<br />
The day we became husband and wife was by far the most stressful event i have ever been a part of.<br />
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From designing and having my dress made, to decorating my entire reception with just my best friend / maid of honor (and a couple of friends who popped in) for over 100 people, i barely had time to breathe let alone enjoy the day ahead of me. To this day i wish i had only our family, a couple of close friends, a court house and a BBQ.<br />
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2011 I hit my first goal of being back under 80kg.. sitting nicely at 78!<br />
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I launched Birthography, which was huge step for me.<br />
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I had my first serious car accident that almost made me throw all my dream away.<br />
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I met new friends re-found friends and an amazing woman who made me a part of her established market and i took on new roles coordinating events.<br />
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My nan had her first ever santa photo taken. 4 generations together.<br />
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Phoenix's medical issues became more complicated and as he endured more and more invasive test, i started to become more and more doubtful of my faith in life.<br />
I am a good person, I am good to others, i take care of my whole family and give more then i physically can, but i still do it.<br />
Yet, i was given so many tests in such a short amount of time. More then my head could handle. <br />
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I started to withdraw from people, and bury myself in projects and work simply to take my mind of my crumbling life.<br />
I neglected my husbands needs, my children's needs, focused on making phoenix better, and pretending my world was not falling to pieces.<br />
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And then that took its toll, My husband became depressed.<br />
And because i became afraid of confrontation and truth, i wouldn't allow him in to my head full of hell. I<br />
was to proud to admit i was a total and utter mess.<br />
And when times became un bearable, i silently self harmed.<br />
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He spent his nights on the Xbox, I spent mine on the lap top. Him in the lounge room, me in the bed room. Me hearing how his day at work was 2nd hand through conversations with online gamers. Writing my every thought in diaries and un published blogs. I was literally going crazy.<br />
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I craved happiness. I craved someone who understood what i was going through, or just someone to listen. And over the years of stress and arguing, i couldn't turn to him anymore.<br />
I knew he was facing his own issues. And i had no where near enough strength to hold him up, as well as my children, and myself.<br />
I just wanted someone in my life who could pick up the pieces and make me feel fresh again.<br />
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So i put an end to it all. And asked him to leave.<br />
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3-4 months ago this was the best decision. We were falling only more and more in to a state of depression and being around each other only brought yelling and fights. Not healthy for any family.<br />
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6 months ago, this was not all clear in my head. I was positive we just weren't soul mates, he wanted a life of rock and roll and i wanted the life of a happy family. We lost what each other wanted.<br />
I wanted more then to feel like we were flat mates.<br />
I craved being crazy in love again.<br />
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3 years ago, his life of rock and roll, and the excitement of joining him at shows and standing there the proudest person in the crowd, was perfectly balanced with waking up the next morning as doeting parents and a 9-5 job.<br />
Some where along the line we lost that balance.<br />
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Its now 4 months post separation and time has helped us heal.<br />
Weve spoken and cried more then we had in 4 years.<br />
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Weve screamed at each other (probably more at him, then him to me) begging to get our point across. And many avoided phone calls and hang ups.<br />
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I guess time is the only thing that makes life clearer.<br />
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I reached a point in my life where i have to live for me not what others expect or want for me. And i have learnt to live with my choices. Because when i wake up tomorrow, im the only one living this life.<br />
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We have decided counciling will work for us. A mediator to help us battle it out the right way and help us parent our children together.<br />
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How does one throw away so much, so fast without working hard to fix it first? You cant.<br />
Were going to work hard, and were going to get help because at the end of the day, there are 3 kids that need 2 parents to be on the same page raising them with every single ounce of strength they have. And that has to be our promise to them.<br />
And we need to know we've tried.<br />
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I spent last night, sitting with my husband.. making no resolutions, just sitting and appreciating. We didn't wait up for fire works, or to see the year in.<br />
We just enjoyed.<br />
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So, i make no resolutions, or promises.<br />
Just hope, That again i survive 2012 that we are happy, that my children laugh and learn and i continue to care for my friends and family.<br />
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Living day by day.. that's the only way life can go!<br />
Im not going to plan weeks or months in advance, im just going to live and breathe.<br />
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I hope your year brings nothing but new happiness and strength. The power to over come anything thrown at you and the faith to know that even at its worst it can get better.<br />
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All i hope for is my faith back.<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; text-align: left;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; text-align: left;">♥</span><br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-67322256920288349582011-12-16T00:39:00.000-08:002011-12-16T14:09:48.473-08:00Three years ago...I believe a photo tells a thousand words. That is why i have so many memories caught on camera. Especially when it comes to my children.<br />
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In the very early morning of December 17th 2008, im talking 2 -3am i had woken with terrible stomach pains. The night before i has demolished 3/4 of an over flowing container of self serve Chinese and 6 - yes Six krispy kream donuts while watching a moving episode of Greys anatomy. All by my lonesome while my son was at his usual sleep over at his granny's.<br />
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Back to 2 am.. stomach knotting gut wrenching pains.<br />
Food poisoning. Great!<br />
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I crawled to the kitchen and downed a couple of panadol. Panadene forte i was soon to realize and climbed back in to bed.<br />
Out.Like.A.Light.<br />
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When i finally awoke it was a sunny morning and around 6am. My stomach was tender.. but i had been partially sleeping on the toilet for a couple of hours, and didnt expect much less.<br />
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So i nodded back off. At 6.30am the niggly pain started again and as i layed there wondering whether to race back to the loo or let it pass, i realized id not felt a movement from my little bun since about 2am.<br />
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I hopped out of bed with thoughts of food poisoning my baby! And phoned the mid wife. She suggested coming in to have a check.<br />
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I phoned hubby who had stayed the night at his friends and after a quick call to mum, we all headed in.<br />
<br />
We arrived around 7.30am and i explained what i had chowed down on the night before. It had either kick started labour.. or what i thought.. Food poisoning.<br />
<br />
We sat around a while, me feeling like i was going to be sick, but i had realized what i thought was 'gut wrenching pains' could have quiet possibly been contractions?<br />
<br />
At 8am the mid wife came in to do an internal. I was awfully uncomfortable but no where near the pain i felt with my first son, which was well and truly labour pains.<br />
<br />
She proceeded with her internal questioning what kind of pain i was feeling.<br />
<br />
I told her that i had been 'on the loo' for a couple of hours last night after my feast and that i was a little tender, so be gentle.<br />
<br />
The the flood gates opened. My waters broke.. It felt as though she had inserted her hand right up there *Sorry dad* and was pulling my baby straight out..<br />
<br />
We were told at 12 weeks, 18 weeks (Paid gender scan) 23 weeks and 29 weeks that we were expecting a boy.<br />
<br />
4 pushes and 8 minutes later we were greeted with our surprise baby girl.<br />
<br />
Addison-Dior Ada Elizabeth Finney<br />
17.12.2008<br />
10lbz 1oz<br />
8.11am<br />
<br />
3 years on and your still as fast as you entered the world, your not as chubby, but your defiantly still as cute.<br />
<br />
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Happy sweet 3rd birthday my dimpled angel <span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; text-align: left;">♥</span></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-88331710174443866682011-11-29T02:03:00.000-08:002011-11-29T02:13:51.721-08:00Everyone has a first..<div>And today was my Nana first.<div><br /></div><div>First time having her photo taken with Santa.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nan said back in her day they never had people dress up as Santa and as the kids grew older most years they couldn't afford to pay a photographer, or person with a camera as she called them to take a Christmas themed photo.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nan turned 77 this year and today, with the help of some friendly ladies had her first photo with Father Christmas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Nan is disabled , her body isn't very well and we have almost lost her many times.</div><div>2am phone calls requesting us to come and say our goodbyes, bed side tears before major surgeries, but shes still here clinging on bossing us around each and every day.</div><div><br /></div><div>After 2 major strokes Nan has only the use of her left arm and leg (and her voice!) so we couldn't make it up to the platform Santa had been placed on, so they moved it all to the side, squished us in and captured 4 generations.</div><div><br /></div><div>A photo that we will hold close to us for a very long time.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYx3BIC0WlgqBGIC7Lh2facSfaLSSd4pnah0DHHDPFjaN9MvYSPP9GbKmc_JJuw_NShz_PXub3GbqF9CMUWSS9-QErTqM3a9z8cVculgdb7DqN7LjDKV_ESnfGQoqTeR0rDHu5eJINpWHP/s1600/xmas+1edit.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYx3BIC0WlgqBGIC7Lh2facSfaLSSd4pnah0DHHDPFjaN9MvYSPP9GbKmc_JJuw_NShz_PXub3GbqF9CMUWSS9-QErTqM3a9z8cVculgdb7DqN7LjDKV_ESnfGQoqTeR0rDHu5eJINpWHP/s400/xmas+1edit.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5680358475679734674" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*Excuse the dodgy scanned copy*</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-71248458463567826082011-11-27T17:55:00.000-08:002011-11-27T18:37:45.577-08:00Step Two.Well i feel as thought step one of over coming my social fear has been a success! Ive been spending much more time with real life friends, inviting them over for late night chats, doing dinners, spending days rummaging through thrifties. Now im on to step 2 of finding a happy medium with keeping in touch with my distant friends and facebookers. <div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.facebook.com/birthography">Birthography</a> is going extreamly well and i am in such a good place with it all right now. Unlike when i was sewing and creating i rarely had contact with anyone. I would make the effort to attend markets and functions but timing was hard.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now i have days full of clients in my home (bringing scrumpious Krispy kreams!) And lazy afternoons in the middle of no where capturing families in total love. I couldnt imagine living it any differently.</div><div><br /></div><div>But when the day is done, and im sitting on the couch reliving the moment, 99% of the time.. like now.. im shoveling chocolate down my gob chasing it with a bottle of coke.. or 2.</div><div><br /></div><div>Back in the day, when i first got the internet and was researching gastric banding, an out let for me and something i am SO glad i did, was note my journey. Not only in words but photos. I began in November '06 until i lost internet access a couple of years later. I had over 30,000 followers from all over the world. It was amazing. I would chat until all hours about recipes, hints and tips on how to get over that weight plateau, and clothes swapping. I miss that connection with others. Not just on weight loss, but all aspects of life. </div><div><br /></div><div>So today i begin again, Self motivation ill call it! Blogging my new life. </div><div><br /></div><div>I would love for those who have had some life changes, over come hurdles, struggling with weight, who have had the band or looking at the procedure to join me as step 2 begins. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://itscalledorganisedchaos.blogspot.com/p/gastric-banding-135kg-67kg.html">http://itscalledorganisedchaos.blogspot.com/p/gastric-banding-135kg-67kg.html</a></div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-69325615593447783652011-10-25T15:30:00.000-07:002011-10-25T17:22:34.187-07:00Has facebook ruined my social skills..I often wonder this.<div><br /></div><div>Before facestalk ever came along i was the most out going , full of fun girl you could come across. </div><div>My idea night would be filling my car with a full tank of fuel.. Picking up some special friends.. packing a few burnt disc's of our fave tunes and driving around laughing. Stopping for a bite to eat then pulling over somewhere quietly chatting for hours and hours. </div><div><br /></div><div>When i was blessed with Master 6 i had no internet access, no email address for that matter. </div><div>No online forums or social networking sites. </div><div>So i went to this little old thing called 'Play group' some of you may have heard of this before. Its what people do when they arent consumed by the online world. </div><div><br /></div><div>We tried a few different groups around the Gold Coast, but as i was 'then' a young mum, i found it hard to hold a conversation with a married mothers of 3 about buying homes and new cars. When i was a single mum of 1 scraping by in a tiny unit. I needed somewhere i felt like i 'fit' in. So i phoned playgroups Australia and asked when i needed to do to be a group leader. After scouting some locations i finally set my own little group up at the Southport library. It was such a great turn out! I arranged games and singers and story tellers and brought along in expensive crafts and met some wonderful ladies. We made snakes out of stockings and plastic bags.. Ah, the simple things. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the kids grew older and the internet and forums became more available our group dwindled away. People exchanging email addresses rather then phone numbers. Talking (bitching) about Bub Hub instead of gloating about babies.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then there were 5. So we packed up our crafts, took the babies to the park and before we knew it we had lost touch.</div><div><br /></div><div>I enquired about connecting the internet for my home. And 3 days later the realness of life ended. I began searching for fourum to join, registed with some dating sites, some gastric banding blogs and chat sites, parenting groups and before i knew it my desk top was full of icons that i would check in on 3 or 4 times a day. </div><div><br /></div><div>I gained over 35kg in a matter of months but had not a care in the world, I was on one side of the computer.. They were on the other. </div><div><br /></div><div>I set up a play corner in my teeny tiny lounge room and wasted my days away on the internet. Searching, googling, chatting..</div><div><br /></div><div>And i guess ive never stopped. </div><div><br /></div><div>Through those parenting groups i have met great friends, near and far. The far i talk to more then the near. </div><div>And i am 150% certain if we had no other contact then the initial meet on line then kept our friendships real, I would still have a extra hand full of good friends. </div><div>Eating out together, Playing in the park together, baking cakes together. </div><div>Not checking in at the park, status updating where your at for lunch and uploading photos of cakes you baked.. Doing things for real. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now this leaves me and a really bad place. I am scared shitless to socialise!</div><div><br /></div><div>Absolutely scared out of my whits. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am scared my kids will turn feral on me forcing us to leave the park red faced and full of tears. </div><div>I wont have that split second like i do on chat or private message to think of my reply to questions and i have totally lost my ability to talk shit.</div><div><br /></div><div>To ramble about anything and everything.. To 'blog' in real time pretty much.</div><div><br /></div><div>I become a nervous wreck thinking about group gatherings and only just seem to pull it together for the sake of my job when we hold Pre Market meetings at our local shopping center. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have a couple of close friends i like to get together with, but we do the usually play with the kids or hour catch up. </div><div><br /></div><div>But long gone are the days you could ring a bundle of friends and say 'Be here at 11am'</div><div><br /></div><div>And that sucks!</div><div><br /></div><div>I envy those who dont use face book (and have an immaculate home) That dont feel social networking sites help their business succeed. That dont actually need a small at home business to help support their growing family. And are happy to potter around the home spending time with family and friends. I have Buttons Dior, My blog, Birthography, Spreading random acts of kindness, Cuddly butts and i am admin on god knows how many friends pages. I am finding it awfully hard to find a happy medium!</div><div><br /></div><div>I envy parents who have a weekly or fortnightly catch up with friends at an actual cafe - not cafe world. (BTW- I hate cafe world)</div><div><br /></div><div>I would make the time. I would give it all up. The business, the facebook, the parenting forums.. If i had the courage and faith in myself that i would be able to keep friends in real life. Keep them interested in me. Not my exciting facebook life.</div><div><br /></div><div>So my ramblings bring me to my question.. Do you feel online socialising has taken you far far away from the real world?</div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-4660497242031707522011-10-16T03:10:00.000-07:002011-10-16T03:52:53.311-07:0010 things you didnt know about me..Well, Thats a lie. You will probably at some point have seen at least one of these 10 things.<div><br /></div><div>But thanks to Ilja from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/emandfemmedesigns">em&femee designs</a> im going to ramble the first 10 things that pop in to my head..</div><div><br /></div><div>1- I can not stand the ocean! And anything to do with the ocean. I hate not knowing what is under the murky water. I go in to full blown panic mode when wearing goggles at the beach, refuse to touch the sand below me And have a rediculous fear of boats.</div><div><br /></div><div>2- I can easily eat a block of chocolate, to myself, in one sitting. More then once a week.</div><div><br /></div><div>3- I collect books, yet i am dyslexic and can not for the life of me read them. I read angel and orical cards extremely well, but struggle to read a whole book on them.</div><div><br /></div><div>4- I left school at the end of grade 10. </div><div>Only because my full time job didn't start until a week after school ended. My heart left school about a year before then and therefore i cant spell or count properly. If i didn't have google chrome fixing my spelling errors i doubt you would know what i was saying. And when put on the spot i don't know what $11.50 - $3.40 is. </div><div><br /></div><div>5- My mum and i have Gastric banding and since then 11 of my friends have had the procedure done through my surgeon with 2 friends lined up in the next few weeks. I lost 70kg in just over a year.</div><div><br /></div><div>6- I am currently in a rutt. I dont know where i want to take life. I wish there were a simple answer on how i could easily combine all my loves and passions with raising a family and earning a living. But right now i think there is only one answer. And i dont think im strong enough to voice what it is.</div><div><br /></div><div>7- I miss blogging. I miss being raw and open. Telling it how it is and caring, but not caring. I miss the connection it gave me to the out side world. </div><div><br /></div><div>8- I am terrible with following through with medication. I never finish a script, never take my tablets at the right time, and can sit there and stare at them knowing i HAVE to take them. Yet turn my back and walk away. </div><div><br /></div><div>9- I cant say no. Its just not something i am good at. Need baby sitting, Ill say yes. Money, yes. Food, yep no worries. Someone to chat to, a coffee buddy, a human punching bag.. Sure, im here. I run myself to the ground.. But still if i see someone doing it tough, Im the first to do something.. anything, to change that. </div><div><br /></div><div>10- About 8 weeks ago my husband and i separated. Im not one to air my dirty laundry over facestalk, so i kept to myself. I even closed down my private facebook profile and started again with only family and some close friends. </div><div>Probably one of the few times i should have called on others for advice, help and a shoulder. But with the recent launch of <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.facebook.com/birthography">Birthography</a> i felt it needed to be kept low key. We are on good terms, The kids are doing well. Mentally im a mess.. as is he. (Hi, i know your reading.. *smiles* ) But for now, it has to be this way. Neither of us know what the future holds, but i would love to chat (Privately) to others who are going though, or have been through a separation. Just to get an idea on your routine, budget..ect</div><div><br /></div><div>So, 9 things you probably knew about me and one whopper that blew you right out of the ball park!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="http://www.facebook.com/fivelittlereasons">Five Little Reasons</a> - <a href="http://www.facebook.com/coucouhandmade">Cou Cou </a>- <a href="http://www.facebook.com/SoapyKids">Soapy Kids </a> - <a href="http://www.facebook.com/teaandsugar?ref=ts">Tea&sugar collections</a> I know alot about you.. but tell me 10 things i dont know. </div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-14552983994500192022011-10-11T01:10:00.001-07:002011-10-11T01:10:28.971-07:00I miss..My blog.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>x</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-64238313639713476152011-08-10T19:25:00.000-07:002011-08-10T20:03:00.263-07:00Big changes are a comin'!So.. save me replying to each email and message, i thought i would give you a run down here.<div>
<br /></div><div>Yes, ive been missing in action lately. Id like to say 'Oh ive just been so flat chat with custom orders and sewing, ive just not.....' .. but its nothing like that.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>About 6 months ago, I lost my passion. I lost inspiration from fabric and spent more time scouring facebook pages for that light that would get me going again, then sitting down spending hours sketching my own designs like i always had done. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I thought about 2-3 months ago, i had found my sew-jo again. After a strong Easter pumping out these gorgeous little hoppers, i thought id found that spark. </div><div>But it soon faded. </div><div>I pushed it and pushed it, spending hours in spotlight rubbing up against fabrics and sipping coffee while flicking through pattern books. </div><div>Leaving with a bundle of material, only to return home and have it still sitting in a bag a week later.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I enjoyed blogging about life, and love and people. More then sewing. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I loved photographing my stock.. More then sewing it.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>About a year ago i considered a change. But timing was far from right. I had just been blessed with a gorgeous little boy, a sibling for my 2 children. So, i knew then and there. It had to go on hold.</div><div>And i was fine with that. Surprisingly, as i am far from a patient person..</div><div>
<br /></div><div>October last year i had the first official taste of what i had been wanting to do. </div><div>And i was in my element. </div><div>Beaming for days. And then i knew that was it. </div><div>The love for sewing would soon wear thin. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>But it was an income, So as i worked on my passion behind the scenes, i kept at sewing, to pay the bills. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I worked had at learning and taking advice off people i looked up to.</div><div>How to make my new business work around such a young and mother-needing family. How to make sure i was doing it for all the right reasons. </div><div>I knew exactly why i was doing it.. I just didnt know how i was going to make it work.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So i eased my way in to it.</div><div>Slowly, in my own time and with so much excitement it was like it was my first ever job.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I reached a point about 2 weeks ago when i knew, now was my time. I had my game plan, i had structure, i had my support network and so i did it. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I realised around that time there were quiet a few other friends and business' also giving a sea change a try as well. </div><div>The nerves set in. </div><div>I questioned my self.. but unlike every other time, i stood proud. </div><div>And knew i my new path, was although alike others, yet different in so many ways. </div><div>And the smile came back.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I think when you run your own hobby/business/market/life you always have doubts, worries, nerves.. and i am ok with that now. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I have set myself goals, rules and bars. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I am ok with where i am right now, I am thankful for amazing advice and words from friends and family. </div><div>The balent honesty that has given me a huge lift, and has made me so much of a better person. And i can only hope i can give as much back as they have to me.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Now, i know your either wracking your brain as to what i will pick up, now that the sewing machine has been put down. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I am literally 1 week off being able to share. But i could not bear to let the emails, comments and messages just sit there waiting. Im not rude.. xx</div><div>
<br /></div><div>I appreciate every single soul who have followed my journey from Punk Princess to Buttons Dior and Organised chaos.. Even though BD will be on hold, I could never give up this blog. (That answers about 15 of the emails..lol) </div><div>
<br /></div><div>This is where i yell, scream, vent, cry, abuse, share and laugh. And i am overwhelmed at the amazing support you guys give. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>And, that's about all i have for you right now! </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Ill pop my head in now and again, but full focus is the new business.. And if you know what it is.. Shhhhhhhh.. xx</div><div>
<br /></div><div>x N</div><div>
<br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-42345578755593353192011-07-14T01:38:00.000-07:002011-07-15T16:48:42.428-07:00A Buck..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pExcLTt0zMrzVHjVsZ9o4ED7x7yxp-GOSlaBLv6D69lx1GXhXucwrLm6iH4QsOlOwo7OiFrKiEoUSmCnT1otQ9V52NGcm4jAsaPha7lsjjwX1LOAINrkAYL8RR0ubi9znAE3PQcQ54ht/s1600/025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6pExcLTt0zMrzVHjVsZ9o4ED7x7yxp-GOSlaBLv6D69lx1GXhXucwrLm6iH4QsOlOwo7OiFrKiEoUSmCnT1otQ9V52NGcm4jAsaPha7lsjjwX1LOAINrkAYL8RR0ubi9znAE3PQcQ54ht/s400/025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629730234735993202" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-j9UjZSwWnKTz_pQk9Ibnjqn7TsGcZptpKzqBkX3KKIJCX269f3_6e1YfVyO07wRmIVuubVt9Y5VR7NDKE7eX7-pEt-ltL1s5iVy-Xu2nZXOgE8BSOD1JRcL25H6IjxH1-HVATsEMYbm0/s1600/029.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 261px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-j9UjZSwWnKTz_pQk9Ibnjqn7TsGcZptpKzqBkX3KKIJCX269f3_6e1YfVyO07wRmIVuubVt9Y5VR7NDKE7eX7-pEt-ltL1s5iVy-Xu2nZXOgE8BSOD1JRcL25H6IjxH1-HVATsEMYbm0/s400/029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629126015086564386" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkFp_UM6kNuBamToO8tiR6ySSWIotat7kjZatpQw8P48uZGk3LCpbbhes_ucFT5halG60VzU8GpnmOJM2MffkZ0HYJ4rYZatAznj0vTmiW0svZON7B6Ya1wfrMI88pwqo4TNA5URps9Ek/s1600/021.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinkFp_UM6kNuBamToO8tiR6ySSWIotat7kjZatpQw8P48uZGk3LCpbbhes_ucFT5halG60VzU8GpnmOJM2MffkZ0HYJ4rYZatAznj0vTmiW0svZON7B6Ya1wfrMI88pwqo4TNA5URps9Ek/s400/021.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629125997342519810" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aBZRclGpzHe9vDoz3FMx2RzG8htv7P744d2mj0q6QqPeg72IBIbDpSvF_S9Dxqc0IFXYvDF3LyEavXc8zbbV6qIJovqbzI0_kKEL5R-v8fDyeO-lDrgr8yglZG3bN8Z_rIsZIyk52I29/s1600/016.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-aBZRclGpzHe9vDoz3FMx2RzG8htv7P744d2mj0q6QqPeg72IBIbDpSvF_S9Dxqc0IFXYvDF3LyEavXc8zbbV6qIJovqbzI0_kKEL5R-v8fDyeO-lDrgr8yglZG3bN8Z_rIsZIyk52I29/s400/016.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629125657592322466" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9qYKwYfthU98PRsmw6y9A0z6H8anweqzy8H0b5riIH5P3ipyTIpzslD2av6KtygAlRws4hLaxjzgle_9N5OwhGp54jfaGY0-XrYp7TNGiIqzhxW0Yc2YvXfE_L9blBSmcd34bhiuivhQ/s1600/010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9qYKwYfthU98PRsmw6y9A0z6H8anweqzy8H0b5riIH5P3ipyTIpzslD2av6KtygAlRws4hLaxjzgle_9N5OwhGp54jfaGY0-XrYp7TNGiIqzhxW0Yc2YvXfE_L9blBSmcd34bhiuivhQ/s400/010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629125649266134722" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiKUSeOipUK9uw8JhPjI2HGUKdKKt07nCTkqesdwHMAzk2qDzHp7R3V4FszGV5TnMhA6xYS62EzJhZDHB2RQCZL477nG8LpubptQTHKp_2Xym4a-JOgRkSCdjS1V4Symj3_Q8XaZNX6wx/s1600/005.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 217px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiKUSeOipUK9uw8JhPjI2HGUKdKKt07nCTkqesdwHMAzk2qDzHp7R3V4FszGV5TnMhA6xYS62EzJhZDHB2RQCZL477nG8LpubptQTHKp_2Xym4a-JOgRkSCdjS1V4Symj3_Q8XaZNX6wx/s400/005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629125648134283074" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd7EjpPIPdeN3JmTnMMiYMIkarDkUoaRAlp17JvW2hdzxiMOkdIkVV_PMsIaTLuJnn6vtWssy2UxoACuKnOX52abZ3FeLkEAtR-GAmDK5r5Q_pVDURsscv9wlQRQl7_LRKDIMwnBpisTYd/s1600/004.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 268px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd7EjpPIPdeN3JmTnMMiYMIkarDkUoaRAlp17JvW2hdzxiMOkdIkVV_PMsIaTLuJnn6vtWssy2UxoACuKnOX52abZ3FeLkEAtR-GAmDK5r5Q_pVDURsscv9wlQRQl7_LRKDIMwnBpisTYd/s400/004.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629125643873467298" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">One single dollar of thrifty goodness..</span></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoj9VufqusNpparfcT0kiFKF1bmGuOCQeJF-Cfk4WS4tK6Iz4deNhsySYEvTauockSJh6a6L2sKGI2Ke5xhjQ7_47pSQZugubAOS2AdaCNzhFmJB150mL_h9bdug69orWGSr3jmnMDagM_/s1600/001.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoj9VufqusNpparfcT0kiFKF1bmGuOCQeJF-Cfk4WS4tK6Iz4deNhsySYEvTauockSJh6a6L2sKGI2Ke5xhjQ7_47pSQZugubAOS2AdaCNzhFmJB150mL_h9bdug69orWGSr3jmnMDagM_/s400/001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629125633748758850" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div><div><br /></div><div>High pants- $1.00 Local thrift</div><div>Shirt - Aunty L , Target </div><div>Wooden cane - Great grand pop</div><div>Cuteness- Mum *wink*</div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-23668321583201043262011-07-12T22:29:00.000-07:002011-07-12T22:38:23.713-07:00Brothers by fate...<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> Meet Austin -'Oz Man' and Phoenix - 'Buddha'</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5tzHPBmnBcEunkuSTxAnykca6TS7kfLnJekk7uydsnWNkxMX4pmaRKXaZE0rGc1D-EU5jEQ3Msw4_FW1fkpszFbUs_lkByVyQVRmKQr7AHZTHb2wXlZi8PUilN0snfuyaQqcIUQJ2dVhh/s320/aus+and+ph.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628704964949863378" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54AQPGk1qAaeyMH0QFnkBzsumbZbOw1J68JCaAkqTfOJ4uHNFjeyckaImBpvIoWfzJ1DqVIM8VoJRy7lEAUXaKbjwUDuhmfqGv-xlETM8BEzwySDXVsA9lalOyb_fJBk6V95Nm0rFdA_4/s1600/today+073.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi54AQPGk1qAaeyMH0QFnkBzsumbZbOw1J68JCaAkqTfOJ4uHNFjeyckaImBpvIoWfzJ1DqVIM8VoJRy7lEAUXaKbjwUDuhmfqGv-xlETM8BEzwySDXVsA9lalOyb_fJBk6V95Nm0rFdA_4/s320/today+073.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628705171442760226" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">These kids have had their fair bloody share of hick ups. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Hurdles and speed bumps. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">But heres to a healthy, fun and gorgeous friendship of 2 boys who have there whole life to get to know each other.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sammy, I am blessed to have had you share those daunting and over whelming nights stuck in a ward with nothing buy UV lights and nasal tubes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Someone who knows my fear and anxiety.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We are each other tower of strength and our boys will one day sit down to hear how we survived their rocky starts.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">You are an amazing mother, and it is scary how much we have in common.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I adore you and your family.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">x</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-49039580367194482852011-07-12T21:18:00.000-07:002011-07-12T21:26:43.757-07:00Wordless Wednesday<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/daisyrooandtwo">Daisy , Roo and Two </a>are doing it..<div><a href="http://www.facebook.com/LittleDrummerBoys">My little drummer boys</a> are doing it!</div><div>And <a href="http://www.facebook.com/poppyseedbaby?sk=wall">Poppy Seed Baby</a> made me LOL..</div><div><br /></div><div>So before i head off to do the school run and the made rush house clean.. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here is our wordless Wednesday.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZeDx_2l3TagbNDRqXqbbzuViR27Pa6LUi3834nka-l_Dzvl2cbaGFo6BvftySo9Pb99pELuChcK8z5Mf3HC6KgCSILJTU74VDkOZQioLInyJrVxMny9HV_0izotCfWm3aQCe2DF2r3TN/s1600/booch.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcZeDx_2l3TagbNDRqXqbbzuViR27Pa6LUi3834nka-l_Dzvl2cbaGFo6BvftySo9Pb99pELuChcK8z5Mf3HC6KgCSILJTU74VDkOZQioLInyJrVxMny9HV_0izotCfWm3aQCe2DF2r3TN/s320/booch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628687873061030082" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NviNeGSRjtQmC1tgu6QwC82l76g6__Zi1tVN_WmPfXvAAlkI4UrR9s-ahyrv0D1waw9jWAdxGW1G34dPZ267Q2e5tSKZZVKJgB8gFT15N7Aei77T60Gko6YqcYpsIt1eL3iiK46dIdgb/s1600/BooBooo.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8NviNeGSRjtQmC1tgu6QwC82l76g6__Zi1tVN_WmPfXvAAlkI4UrR9s-ahyrv0D1waw9jWAdxGW1G34dPZ267Q2e5tSKZZVKJgB8gFT15N7Aei77T60Gko6YqcYpsIt1eL3iiK46dIdgb/s320/BooBooo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628687867993214290" /></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">x</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-53887659101994261382011-07-12T18:01:00.000-07:002011-07-12T18:17:31.744-07:00Miss-Junctivitis<div><br /></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Snot + Eyes </div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNF__htFEZSLAPExPq15Y2oX90RC-ADzXFAC25bmtXCsEuMQSwmDBjhLE2mp4j1_btZDKR0V0lXtgaLQKqP1M_qCPJlgNR7gqxieCvwVVkGtjyzrgGOSSq5r_SEifPeBv8ZXu21dQoERYt/s1600/ad3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNF__htFEZSLAPExPq15Y2oX90RC-ADzXFAC25bmtXCsEuMQSwmDBjhLE2mp4j1_btZDKR0V0lXtgaLQKqP1M_qCPJlgNR7gqxieCvwVVkGtjyzrgGOSSq5r_SEifPeBv8ZXu21dQoERYt/s320/ad3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628636319412758226" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX80V-oOvZ3TIXLcI99NC9Nl3ZVqNgXb_oz4n24B40xuky3gFgjXbpAOvXwxEu48h89p4pWds63J4nYdwGvYwJuRhb_9ocafUNLKPqeDNB8Z3p-SkH2nyZUHQAJeY2_LKTmsntQoOHKqvl/s1600/ad2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX80V-oOvZ3TIXLcI99NC9Nl3ZVqNgXb_oz4n24B40xuky3gFgjXbpAOvXwxEu48h89p4pWds63J4nYdwGvYwJuRhb_9ocafUNLKPqeDNB8Z3p-SkH2nyZUHQAJeY2_LKTmsntQoOHKqvl/s320/ad2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628636317526992546" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqt8qHTclspXax2qM_w8xfPCYV31Aom3Ob_4GJs_qD8VMDI1_JrP9WSZV2G2-HmGP7_ZLPokiNtTih0KnpcQz2gTBXzQqzOIIgEtoc_wirPFlRom0rM8zmhxsYQTqhuC1bECmrHIJR8Vq/s1600/ad1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqt8qHTclspXax2qM_w8xfPCYV31Aom3Ob_4GJs_qD8VMDI1_JrP9WSZV2G2-HmGP7_ZLPokiNtTih0KnpcQz2gTBXzQqzOIIgEtoc_wirPFlRom0rM8zmhxsYQTqhuC1bECmrHIJR8Vq/s320/ad1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628636311445085650" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div>Shes over the worst of it.. but those antibiotic eye drops are sending her berko.. Any hot tips on how to clear this up.. A-sap!?</div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-72288757091323887092011-07-10T16:29:00.000-07:002011-07-10T17:12:53.635-07:00Where the magic happens..<div>Its been a working process for months. This did not happen over night. I would have been impossible. I wanted to share an area with the kids where i could see them and they could see me. I didnt want to work in another room from them and feel distant.</div><div><br /></div><div>We are lucky enough to have a house at the end of a culdersack with a long driveway. So i decided to take over the double garage. </div><div><br /></div><div>For the first few months our garage looked like this.. Chaos.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZjD3G7dCpNLTtBptmj-yxOJgAVys1kh5pDofOJUsrWSpZaA5kRveqvjqsXxNXjey_rumj4yax9p4fH0GsOyE6_lZMNCVXXwkK9OplCh17UEVptbeOHtM1-Jj_yReOO0ZsqD8fGS-wiuCW/s320/r9.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627871361171844898" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_4WKRVPve4OR7FODGi81KYBVEVh3d_Krd6_VImamKBy11vWqeOnyu9L73ut_OcCKMoBoQAf9E2rfeXTx8w2bf0LKRaqDEDjCQv9TbxvBw3Og2jdMT_uKM-CSk6gdPZ3r8jzY9CG2YnfA/s1600/garage+2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi_4WKRVPve4OR7FODGi81KYBVEVh3d_Krd6_VImamKBy11vWqeOnyu9L73ut_OcCKMoBoQAf9E2rfeXTx8w2bf0LKRaqDEDjCQv9TbxvBw3Og2jdMT_uKM-CSk6gdPZ3r8jzY9CG2YnfA/s320/garage+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627871365878456306" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSVA4W-YFf3MYdWQqaDdksRw7IkcvbDJfNXQ0Psnrq_MEgU7dODlJRQsDV38Rw315-a9RrvNHpsQs3wFeVlbGb4sShForTbYxR6sBfnoiw1j147M2ki70lKOSphz3wVQDOBZIzy5kCml7/s1600/garage1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQSVA4W-YFf3MYdWQqaDdksRw7IkcvbDJfNXQ0Psnrq_MEgU7dODlJRQsDV38Rw315-a9RrvNHpsQs3wFeVlbGb4sShForTbYxR6sBfnoiw1j147M2ki70lKOSphz3wVQDOBZIzy5kCml7/s320/garage1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627871361548249794" /></a>A dead set nightmare. <div><br /></div><div>I attempted many times to get some sort of order. But to be able to achieve that would have meant NOT restoring and rehoming.. it meant removing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I had to part with alot of stuff.</div><div><br /></div><div>The past few months i have done load after load to the tip and donating to thrift shops.. Parting with things ive stored for years.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now i have a haven where i sit all day (And usally all night).</div><div><br /></div><div>The kids have free run of our street, we watch movies, we warm ourself in the sun, we chat with the neighbours. Every 2nd house is a family full of kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its bliss.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxtIxQiq3GVhT1vZAKGFfj7XSUgFDGaI56YC-aCP333ob2l7J5wnGBGMYGblVrsfoCKlFdyNqlgNLrC80MaSA4-ZHkvAJesqT220XpMorHq3hEejfWx-EouqLWCJi8_mpUfdqTwY2K9S4/s1600/r8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifxtIxQiq3GVhT1vZAKGFfj7XSUgFDGaI56YC-aCP333ob2l7J5wnGBGMYGblVrsfoCKlFdyNqlgNLrC80MaSA4-ZHkvAJesqT220XpMorHq3hEejfWx-EouqLWCJi8_mpUfdqTwY2K9S4/s320/r8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870478046377618" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Huge TV - $0 Free cycle</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XH1RgbiRgBMK6GSprFH-1f2yD8lRWM1DRAECPQm1z642l2Oxey38lC7WS5TLqM-7hq3gR0w7JBNd37-7Q5aw0La0Q0Gs2mZHnV3qMhC2zSvsKtJ9eaYjZyCoquzsupc0Gpz5kFR4ltyx/s1600/r7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4XH1RgbiRgBMK6GSprFH-1f2yD8lRWM1DRAECPQm1z642l2Oxey38lC7WS5TLqM-7hq3gR0w7JBNd37-7Q5aw0La0Q0Gs2mZHnV3qMhC2zSvsKtJ9eaYjZyCoquzsupc0Gpz5kFR4ltyx/s320/r7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870463477281330" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZmgoLJFf2FGUmrI-p2pXp8j0nx4aOEMUFozcNwnkuiUO08jE_15MexKOfqYRDBYFYUlq4QuQKRy37qdADHjVW2tuINvZzy90PwB4unZOTQtR2pezjvVXi7tAHEDkyeCLJwzJjQ8pkESth/s1600/r6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZmgoLJFf2FGUmrI-p2pXp8j0nx4aOEMUFozcNwnkuiUO08jE_15MexKOfqYRDBYFYUlq4QuQKRy37qdADHjVW2tuINvZzy90PwB4unZOTQtR2pezjvVXi7tAHEDkyeCLJwzJjQ8pkESth/s320/r6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870455226307986" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sewing desk- $5 Salvation Army</div><div style="text-align: center;">Small pink and white storage- $0 (From a good friend) </div><div style="text-align: center;">I also take the baskets out and use it to store my tea cup candles at my market</div><div style="text-align: center;">Butterfly felt mobile- $0 Gift from 'Friends for Felix'</div><div style="text-align: center;">Plastic storage containers- $10 for 20 Reduced to clear rack at target.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvanmn1qRkqB_jQ2-TY77HXiryaghnrqB-POqpx9p3mVFxbwulr35HbYyFnN1odmFOF5LEIbMfjK2q5C2_UvnKj7sgwUAe4BgzGZE5DUaSzfi0wYAoZ9FOa2AtrDNxaJPlx3Lmqd8-tLQD/s1600/r5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvanmn1qRkqB_jQ2-TY77HXiryaghnrqB-POqpx9p3mVFxbwulr35HbYyFnN1odmFOF5LEIbMfjK2q5C2_UvnKj7sgwUAe4BgzGZE5DUaSzfi0wYAoZ9FOa2AtrDNxaJPlx3Lmqd8-tLQD/s320/r5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870449972316322" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Long Cabnet- $5 Garage sale.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Frames- $2 </div><div style="text-align: center;">Reused from my table placings at our wedding. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Now they store handmade doilies as a wedding gift from my husbands Aunty.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwTxXsATdzwzmmOXhWwNcmXt_aPRUdKGXrw4hd_MRYj4RZCm4hUx8u_AFt3b9W4_AV-6gTjDk0x63u0xNK45DMVqbuFAssYzsav68gB3xKFdkELwxsCEsJm5iDuBRebndQyXDHOyKf6-l/s1600/r4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwTxXsATdzwzmmOXhWwNcmXt_aPRUdKGXrw4hd_MRYj4RZCm4hUx8u_AFt3b9W4_AV-6gTjDk0x63u0xNK45DMVqbuFAssYzsav68gB3xKFdkELwxsCEsJm5iDuBRebndQyXDHOyKf6-l/s320/r4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870139599563010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Desk and cabnet - Free </div><div style="text-align: center;">(Thank god for granparents with style)</div><div style="text-align: center;">Chair- Free from my parents old dining room set.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZGCkw4Qlr1UtQ9X_Hc9Gr_Ao1shNyo6MQlS7DQAo-CpQq2I_qfE1w1-w6j80IBKez_BZA-IleG5lL2hkI75DvLW7wIgHxGkAtGR3NcPgVAaVFBi35paIBuyUmZU0EPTRgsFmFk7rlIM9/s1600/r3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9ZGCkw4Qlr1UtQ9X_Hc9Gr_Ao1shNyo6MQlS7DQAo-CpQq2I_qfE1w1-w6j80IBKez_BZA-IleG5lL2hkI75DvLW7wIgHxGkAtGR3NcPgVAaVFBi35paIBuyUmZU0EPTRgsFmFk7rlIM9/s320/r3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870137251857890" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Scales- Free</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Best friends mum..</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZR64VDqnF6Mh1gmOxiGibSKbOonIv9b2ibsD9Q9zgu4zMgCtsRXXycQktsBA3TV6L21AyfIhZDWDhGGu2Rwr2ReIwkPjcawUxWi1k7UOkIUhOwZUQu3-xWWeYESGAYiyEPShU-kDFeyiT/s1600/r2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZR64VDqnF6Mh1gmOxiGibSKbOonIv9b2ibsD9Q9zgu4zMgCtsRXXycQktsBA3TV6L21AyfIhZDWDhGGu2Rwr2ReIwkPjcawUxWi1k7UOkIUhOwZUQu3-xWWeYESGAYiyEPShU-kDFeyiT/s320/r2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870135855599042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Book shelf - $10 </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Garage sale</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWJhmVExMIHxjYbRrO3XwCcIbGWd2CouIHTjwzDEGkHCf_9RA9Q0jveDUQ5A0asWSdlCF9x8gS8QpEu4LCycGe4eIb1xSPBpvQXOo_A8QnPFOVK5AyT10-Z8KFAuVsexbu9wGidRbpKE0/s1600/r1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPWJhmVExMIHxjYbRrO3XwCcIbGWd2CouIHTjwzDEGkHCf_9RA9Q0jveDUQ5A0asWSdlCF9x8gS8QpEu4LCycGe4eIb1xSPBpvQXOo_A8QnPFOVK5AyT10-Z8KFAuVsexbu9wGidRbpKE0/s320/r1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870135037121506" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Tea Pots and tea cups- Thrift shops and garage sales</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXq8cz20bpV8YTjd3aJjo4lcQzqaTY1b5GA5pKzEgZ5nhSZeTu0C2UKB0YBVOxKdIXWn4mF_hvHdx4qnz8DVvYeECIUE4qtTjMnnraWs0MDGD_syjCkw91inXNPXK45exf-l-vKzLbTQ9x/s1600/r.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXq8cz20bpV8YTjd3aJjo4lcQzqaTY1b5GA5pKzEgZ5nhSZeTu0C2UKB0YBVOxKdIXWn4mF_hvHdx4qnz8DVvYeECIUE4qtTjMnnraWs0MDGD_syjCkw91inXNPXK45exf-l-vKzLbTQ9x/s320/r.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627870130602877506" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">Clothes racks - Free </div><div style="text-align: center;">Some girls i met at a market.. forget their names.. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXq8cz20bpV8YTjd3aJjo4lcQzqaTY1b5GA5pKzEgZ5nhSZeTu0C2UKB0YBVOxKdIXWn4mF_hvHdx4qnz8DVvYeECIUE4qtTjMnnraWs0MDGD_syjCkw91inXNPXK45exf-l-vKzLbTQ9x/s1600/r.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><br /></div><div>Whether you sew, paint, cook or create.. </div><div><br /></div><div>Show us a snipit..Where does your magic happen?</div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-19417024757497952452011-07-10T16:21:00.000-07:002011-07-10T16:49:12.583-07:00The memories..<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh127IZnvkHBt_tIzTqi5LCwQWsnyF-S8ZHnWpV7QtE8EAKxqdI5Y80zB696ReaJ4ZGDu1-ahBBY-aBGJ01eNkk7DpASWeycDqlMbM4TxzI262pZIW4lbXiuLMCS32YynzEkvhUdMjrsATV/s1600/chup.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh127IZnvkHBt_tIzTqi5LCwQWsnyF-S8ZHnWpV7QtE8EAKxqdI5Y80zB696ReaJ4ZGDu1-ahBBY-aBGJ01eNkk7DpASWeycDqlMbM4TxzI262pZIW4lbXiuLMCS32YynzEkvhUdMjrsATV/s320/chup.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627874802568356290" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Sneaking your chupa chup out the window in the feezing air..</div><div style="text-align: center;">And licking it while its cold.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-57647612105823063312011-07-09T22:51:00.000-07:002011-07-10T21:22:22.937-07:00What are your expectations..<div>What do you expect to gain from holding a stall at a local market.<div><br /></div><div>Are you there after spending weeks and weeks sweating out stock , to by the end of the day have it all sold?</div><div>Are you there to meet like minded crafty people?</div><div>To showcase your product and gain interest?</div><div><br /></div><div>With the fee you pay for your market hoping for loads of people to come past your stall?</div><div><br /></div><div>And what is an appropriate amount of effort, you as a business owner / crafter are willing to contribute in to promoting the fact you will be a stall holder.</div><div><br /></div><div>Do you promote on your facebook page? Do you promote pick up for sold items</div><div>.. then bringing in more potential customers for fellow stall holders? </div><div><br /></div><div>Do you ask the co ordinator of pamphlets, leaflets, email-able and printable details.. </div><div><br /></div><div>Personally, I am there for the pure adreniline.</div><div><br /></div><div>I, in all honesty, couldnt care if i walked away with a $5 sale.</div><div><br /></div><div>I always take my best friend with me so she can man the stall and i can go meet the other stall holders.</div><div><br /></div><div>I adore seeing the care and passion my fellow madies have put in to their wares.</div><div>the nervous chit chat while you wait for the 'approval' from others.</div><div><br /></div><div>Market day to me, is my day to shine.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its my little 6x4 shop.</div><div><br /></div><div>I get to my market nice and early. </div><div>Starts at 9.. Im there around 7am , giving me time to focus on details.</div><div><br /></div><div>Last month i was lucky enough to have my parents drop by before opening.</div><div><br /></div><div>Watching my dad spin all the little teacup handles the right way, dropping the tags down beside them and perfectly placing my bunting across my table. </div><div>Each bunting inside each other. It looked so therapeutic for him.</div><div><br /></div><div>My mother, on the other hand.</div><div>Tipped my bundle of hair ties, brooches and pins out of the converse shoe box i keep them in.. flipped the shoe box over and placed them on and around it.. Bless..</div><div><br /></div><div>I always have friends who come up and have a walk around.. Bringing me chocolate and coffee.</div><div><br /></div><div>And fellow face bookers drop in to finally put a voice.. to the name.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am so proud of each market stall i hold. </div><div>Not only because i am made to feel like an asset to the market but because of the effort i put into making it look and feel amazing.</div><div><br /></div><div>That, is why i spend my Sundays in a hall, with hundreds of crazy shoppers and like minded WAHP's.</div><div><br /></div><div>I promote my market as it were my own shop. </div><div><br /></div><div>I ask Cassandra from The Upper market in Upper Coomera for pamphlets which i keep a dozen off in my nappy bag. They are month friendly so they never out date.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the Friday before , when i head to pick master 5 up from school i drop leaflets on all the car windows. </div><div>I even blue tacked one to the gate at day care.</div><div><br /></div><div>I gave 20 to a friend i know who works at the local bakery and she slipped them in peoples plastic bags.</div><div><br /></div><div>And a friend who lives 45 minutes away put one up in her daycare.</div><div><br /></div><div>I spam my page with links to the market leading up to the big day. And i offer market specials. </div><div><br /></div><div>I bring a jar of lollies and have a free guessing game. And promote that too.</div><div><br /></div><div>And this bring me to my question.. As i see many stall holders publicly voicing their disappointed in the market days they attend. </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, Why are you a stall holder? and as a stall holder, what do you have to offer your market if anything?</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I am just thankful my local market it a reasonable rate, has fantastic publicity and an awesome bunch of like minded people.</div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_zD2K8SLSGDYjpSutrP5W41dkgG68WkX0KeL5VJtn0PZY0Xd04N4eiclpOXJILYZ15cqhSAvEFJwTA9-rFMrwaVRarav5WX_WVZaWNukFcjl14-FQzHuyCHE4xihuURbOnBLEMBnUmhmE/s1600/m5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_zD2K8SLSGDYjpSutrP5W41dkgG68WkX0KeL5VJtn0PZY0Xd04N4eiclpOXJILYZ15cqhSAvEFJwTA9-rFMrwaVRarav5WX_WVZaWNukFcjl14-FQzHuyCHE4xihuURbOnBLEMBnUmhmE/s320/m5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627941017171224354" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI703cpQUvJMmCXenMcZCADg7CdUX-7GTCoNXmNnBdnlamU1qf29sKlske2iOwgDmhHMADENctA_zp9HSt58FtBT_km0fi4-2ApUgGtll0GsYQJONOzm_AscLzxN_xorpYxl0QHytj7Gw-/s1600/m2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI703cpQUvJMmCXenMcZCADg7CdUX-7GTCoNXmNnBdnlamU1qf29sKlske2iOwgDmhHMADENctA_zp9HSt58FtBT_km0fi4-2ApUgGtll0GsYQJONOzm_AscLzxN_xorpYxl0QHytj7Gw-/s320/m2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627941017125898706" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-vYZ7hPn5eME75Zu-a6Y8t5_F2UjfR2VEcnecJBwuB_xNsNQ7j_cxD41Y7DeNpCgGZX_OUvLczjyfXJhlpc_27lCFz2hyIf7C6myfFQy6zlG4usb5Da7zO1SJoWoanDega0Opzt5C7Js/s1600/m1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja-vYZ7hPn5eME75Zu-a6Y8t5_F2UjfR2VEcnecJBwuB_xNsNQ7j_cxD41Y7DeNpCgGZX_OUvLczjyfXJhlpc_27lCFz2hyIf7C6myfFQy6zlG4usb5Da7zO1SJoWoanDega0Opzt5C7Js/s320/m1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627941012045044754" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-92103400680098404372011-07-05T17:42:00.000-07:002011-07-05T18:44:39.161-07:00Freedom..<div><br /></div><div><div><div>On Monday i had the sweet Jess (and her mama) from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/winnifredsdaughter?ref=ts">Winnifreds Daughter</a> over delivering Master 6's birthday present he had bought off her with his birthday money. </div><div>We also sat and disgust Master 1's christmas custom order. (Honestly, i highly doubt im going to be able to wait untill christmas to gift it to him..)</div><div><br /></div><div><div><div><div>For a while now i have always wanted to ask her where she got her inspiration from when creating these unique creatures.. Jess not only uses facebook as a base to showcase her creations, but also uses <a href="http://www.etsy.com/">etsy.com</a> , Im not a big follower of etsy so maby i am blinded to other similar creations, but <a href="http://www.facebook.com/winnifredsdaughter?ref=ts">Winnifreds Daughter</a> blows my mind.</div><div><br /></div><div>The attention to detail, the designs.. So unique.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcKuJGu5zNT8rAfpe-MRd4nCPqH6siKsRXA60yB-A77XtrCHwPIl4OgUKyqZNFvMaaV2-tFuOHi-b96KOqgFAk8fdoGj67Kd2XPTfsSLbuzlNnOYTFm_ksA63I1xHoHqK0G9v7xXyTMKfz/s1600/wd2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcKuJGu5zNT8rAfpe-MRd4nCPqH6siKsRXA60yB-A77XtrCHwPIl4OgUKyqZNFvMaaV2-tFuOHi-b96KOqgFAk8fdoGj67Kd2XPTfsSLbuzlNnOYTFm_ksA63I1xHoHqK0G9v7xXyTMKfz/s320/wd2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626044394364773234" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYbvYvo4j09BxH6glRaxQMaOOLIMyCNw61Pw0qKRxcEAnEZxl7VgG5sVJQdh6Usnq5jjTheXna0pf9jpiIMcepj4zQpodXvEaHI7bNmaQnGWj31AFy8yQMcYCJA-xpBFqoskXKzglqf06/s1600/wd1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYbvYvo4j09BxH6glRaxQMaOOLIMyCNw61Pw0qKRxcEAnEZxl7VgG5sVJQdh6Usnq5jjTheXna0pf9jpiIMcepj4zQpodXvEaHI7bNmaQnGWj31AFy8yQMcYCJA-xpBFqoskXKzglqf06/s320/wd1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626044390135776210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7lr0NuhwliF84mJAjT0ag-ArDE-JZDkDnjJ-Y_kpiqdtTkwEawjlwpyQfyHZ4YjAQZKvspfIOcVA6vC8WXW6jA4wKfYfh0M5eq2NJSNjLICTtCr4CEZFZ-YmzudF9zYbNMBhKJT8p7fK/s1600/wd.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7lr0NuhwliF84mJAjT0ag-ArDE-JZDkDnjJ-Y_kpiqdtTkwEawjlwpyQfyHZ4YjAQZKvspfIOcVA6vC8WXW6jA4wKfYfh0M5eq2NJSNjLICTtCr4CEZFZ-YmzudF9zYbNMBhKJT8p7fK/s320/wd.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626044386152020962" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 270px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div>When i finally got the guts to ask how her design came about , it was such an awesome explanation.</div><div><br /></div><div>She had drafted many different faces and bodies. Played with legs and eyes and faces and ears until she found the things she loved. She uses upcycyled materials, and even brought around the 2 jumpers she will be using for Master 1's softie. </div><div><br /></div><div>When i asked her how she knew her design was perfect.. She said it was like she had found Freedom.</div><div><br /></div><div>You can tell when someone finds their freedom. That something that set them apart.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Yes , a gazzilion people make ruffled nappy covers, but its the combinations and client love, the passion for charities that sets Tina from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/georgiegirlhandmade">Georgie girl</a> apart from the rest.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPHDoNKTj_JEdhTSQUf3gjMo0QRj3dGK38d2tDRVRjVXRhbez7nUeDLg1kMDNsX2Yr5jij0SwGLRSqggFb8_PvQ8KrSkioosfhpMZFoFHAuraU373RA0GyJbeVu5Ib1m33MXB3XBYWJdn/s1600/gg2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFPHDoNKTj_JEdhTSQUf3gjMo0QRj3dGK38d2tDRVRjVXRhbez7nUeDLg1kMDNsX2Yr5jij0SwGLRSqggFb8_PvQ8KrSkioosfhpMZFoFHAuraU373RA0GyJbeVu5Ib1m33MXB3XBYWJdn/s320/gg2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626045058975405426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwoMA-iYvf9S67H6cS_dlj2_BKRSX5e1ce0GXa1bj7gNa6gqUDUozbLvJ4TQ3BFX7fB7LDT1t9XbO3wgSIRWrWUe4tYryvZIo1P8mpMVvKu2TKIx7sSR7xLNCjsljvQQ9MbCfSr730fG0/s1600/gg.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrwoMA-iYvf9S67H6cS_dlj2_BKRSX5e1ce0GXa1bj7gNa6gqUDUozbLvJ4TQ3BFX7fB7LDT1t9XbO3wgSIRWrWUe4tYryvZIo1P8mpMVvKu2TKIx7sSR7xLNCjsljvQQ9MbCfSr730fG0/s320/gg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626045057631229042" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 271px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UDnA5B7l6VRxRM5VqPrpOmQyAZUxYvd0vAZBMFnMrXD-cgmL9xZqMtrvSqpR0ETmUCAbRSRpWrKCycECJKKuxxWuePUP84RrAxpwDh7UgJVXiA8f0gKeM66arrpZ_38ejog5-IOAho1E/s1600/gg1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UDnA5B7l6VRxRM5VqPrpOmQyAZUxYvd0vAZBMFnMrXD-cgmL9xZqMtrvSqpR0ETmUCAbRSRpWrKCycECJKKuxxWuePUP84RrAxpwDh7UgJVXiA8f0gKeM66arrpZ_38ejog5-IOAho1E/s320/gg1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626045056080527698" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px; " /></a><br /><div><div><br /></div></div><div>The fabric and child like imagination that makes Cherie from<a href="http://www.facebook.com/laceandryde"> Lace and Ryde</a> stand out from the millions of other doll makers.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1OMGHzPhd0lXLYmPg5iZtbNIK2T_tBsLWkAEHZ9Bg1rm3mbQdQwG9m2-0IHE-JceiwMuJVT_oxxSoL6He-GfxvIK9ffzL1AFKgfYvS3wXQf0foYFz_jXvH1RDvbzFXFnvOXxMAfboOnqS/s1600/lr1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1OMGHzPhd0lXLYmPg5iZtbNIK2T_tBsLWkAEHZ9Bg1rm3mbQdQwG9m2-0IHE-JceiwMuJVT_oxxSoL6He-GfxvIK9ffzL1AFKgfYvS3wXQf0foYFz_jXvH1RDvbzFXFnvOXxMAfboOnqS/s320/lr1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626045553621359586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5b6TmwyS62dvtrp5SK9tBff4BDCFGq_3a1RHK8uWOxEDJo4CXDiIcnsNhqo67wYIWoPDkxQpYbFDdKj7FyNfKEgXgBxqkp-PnkiiQv3H858jBlsJdiY-YOVw17qng_MaoEVFC2DXm5f4B/s1600/lr3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5b6TmwyS62dvtrp5SK9tBff4BDCFGq_3a1RHK8uWOxEDJo4CXDiIcnsNhqo67wYIWoPDkxQpYbFDdKj7FyNfKEgXgBxqkp-PnkiiQv3H858jBlsJdiY-YOVw17qng_MaoEVFC2DXm5f4B/s320/lr3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626045543055779026" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe3Qpvyn69JSG56KS-NI5l47SAEwtkRU29Cy4KyTO4yWfx3tW5mDD3aHKnGFtct7DbaTaB0wnNY8liEfbfmAy1KDO4NHBxhLZuxrl9TEbqaN5LbUMHP2boJVrxYxmMZXqwaLus7uW-7K6i/s1600/lr2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe3Qpvyn69JSG56KS-NI5l47SAEwtkRU29Cy4KyTO4yWfx3tW5mDD3aHKnGFtct7DbaTaB0wnNY8liEfbfmAy1KDO4NHBxhLZuxrl9TEbqaN5LbUMHP2boJVrxYxmMZXqwaLus7uW-7K6i/s320/lr2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626045540789150402" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></a><div><br /></div><div>Its the perfection that Jodie from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/flowersfrillsbuttonsandbows">Flowers, Frills, Buttons & Bows</a> will not settle for anything less of when it comes to making her babushkas and Kokeshi's</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVq9MCCxICJIurg8qENYKEDd4Z36MHt_5TmFMf-NiU-wFFaslMERU4UN9_L9tkkVHm-hYm4Ia3O-Ap0w3sRusl-21H1pKVTh7nvVex-H9op0egS6nIZdqwlNjYKEnW7nI7e8GIB0V2YXmW/s1600/ffbb2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVq9MCCxICJIurg8qENYKEDd4Z36MHt_5TmFMf-NiU-wFFaslMERU4UN9_L9tkkVHm-hYm4Ia3O-Ap0w3sRusl-21H1pKVTh7nvVex-H9op0egS6nIZdqwlNjYKEnW7nI7e8GIB0V2YXmW/s320/ffbb2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626047264183092514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 285px; height: 320px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTK1zhJT7Wyu-yaeHXZgwk8qgaGzWmsrd5Sa_EJME0jWY7d7by-gqgWWzLXs7SkKgvbuT81lkHVuUlFOGU9l1RM1KtHO_iJXDH8uhvUdOoBkKDo_pbFn0xscd3KOLzsLBfroyP7QlQTRr/s1600/ffbb1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtTK1zhJT7Wyu-yaeHXZgwk8qgaGzWmsrd5Sa_EJME0jWY7d7by-gqgWWzLXs7SkKgvbuT81lkHVuUlFOGU9l1RM1KtHO_iJXDH8uhvUdOoBkKDo_pbFn0xscd3KOLzsLBfroyP7QlQTRr/s320/ffbb1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626047257552805826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px; " /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmq0eL-wueaKSBzwsIkH68YyMiaJRdWiEDmeiu4H4JWj9gOuw5D7ZRMqkzWo1IjTHB8_wAmRoYu0m9mzLDQnI60g4I8NwQWrXsWa7pwD9Jl0NdXXDCgZn4O_mcjkbLC2VM0frc6lVqnqo5/s1600/ffbb.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmq0eL-wueaKSBzwsIkH68YyMiaJRdWiEDmeiu4H4JWj9gOuw5D7ZRMqkzWo1IjTHB8_wAmRoYu0m9mzLDQnI60g4I8NwQWrXsWa7pwD9Jl0NdXXDCgZn4O_mcjkbLC2VM0frc6lVqnqo5/s320/ffbb.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626047259650191826" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px; " /></a><br /><div>Lucy from <a href="http://www.facebook.com/CocoLamour">Coco L'Amour</a>.. 100% handmade and crafted cushions.</div><div><div>Yeah, sure you could by a mass produced cushion from Target or spotlight for $31.00. But its not the best feeling when your visitor mentions she saw that cushion at their mums just the other day and she had brought it at the target sale for $25.00</div><div>(...Yes .. it happened to me.. sigh..)</div></div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVaGL10_vC27ajObUJ-RVsl-0rW_QYtc8mfSDPTkAPGLFmfX7HaG8A2IdqeotEjFAzINSeO9_rpDvTPMYUyJaYk_KXISm02cgvR-Y6jDTDl534vEWIBtsCeghiiLrIKYECUhCoXf-ovKU/s1600/coco2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUVaGL10_vC27ajObUJ-RVsl-0rW_QYtc8mfSDPTkAPGLFmfX7HaG8A2IdqeotEjFAzINSeO9_rpDvTPMYUyJaYk_KXISm02cgvR-Y6jDTDl534vEWIBtsCeghiiLrIKYECUhCoXf-ovKU/s320/coco2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626047648466689634" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ByDmUT6L7jYsQEHc2uS-Fb8xyN_B-mvt2Bo8-C1w3M36zMy15ri7dq7RFlyraMfsudjyG8fYHRwhIexfwR2nfq8PQEmhxqt3jLPer4MpZRvCB7eiFWrC8_wmjLk1Vz_L_Bx09Vpgv8O5/s1600/coco1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ByDmUT6L7jYsQEHc2uS-Fb8xyN_B-mvt2Bo8-C1w3M36zMy15ri7dq7RFlyraMfsudjyG8fYHRwhIexfwR2nfq8PQEmhxqt3jLPer4MpZRvCB7eiFWrC8_wmjLk1Vz_L_Bx09Vpgv8O5/s320/coco1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626047645673378546" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div>I love following Janine's growth and talent at<a href="http://www.facebook.com/LittleWildroseBNE"> Little Wildrose</a> .. every new collection released is just jaw dropping..</div></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6hZAoY0lcIQIIfyeZyZ7tk1kzaiSWXzUfexlDYTWz5YNlWAL_Di3TSMZrGYbPC5jL1eBbalRpkhOOmxkC8-OfTChiTRvnpVh1Hs4FXhYBU4cJ0a6f_9RhvnDt2_16-GuE5cLdiFoQsRgP/s1600/lwr1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6hZAoY0lcIQIIfyeZyZ7tk1kzaiSWXzUfexlDYTWz5YNlWAL_Di3TSMZrGYbPC5jL1eBbalRpkhOOmxkC8-OfTChiTRvnpVh1Hs4FXhYBU4cJ0a6f_9RhvnDt2_16-GuE5cLdiFoQsRgP/s320/lwr1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626046357866574386" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bZUDfC2tk2lDaL_Nrp2tyCcf9GofhyphenhyphenWCVv6hB7Zm1TqXoqC37bbK-7808hxX-6ELPRLXZefExv8DbT8pb_vlEgj6Wir7ToBB0p8mbKie-kbNbf_hWkfSgut0Av00jEb1vSuaoVx4uPJC/s1600/lwr.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 245px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1bZUDfC2tk2lDaL_Nrp2tyCcf9GofhyphenhyphenWCVv6hB7Zm1TqXoqC37bbK-7808hxX-6ELPRLXZefExv8DbT8pb_vlEgj6Wir7ToBB0p8mbKie-kbNbf_hWkfSgut0Av00jEb1vSuaoVx4uPJC/s320/lwr.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5626046349029058018" /></a><div>. </div><div><br /></div><div>I know, your thinking.. 'All the big names' .. but take a second to realize why they are so well known. They arent known for giveaways or page spamming.. they are known for the amazing work they have to offer. </div><div><br /></div><div>Personally, i am far from finding my freedom. </div><div>I dabble in hundreds of different designs and ideas. 98% of the time its not even shown on my facebook page. </div><div><br /></div><div>I am still far from finding that one or 2 ideas that give me freedom.</div><div><br /></div><div>How and when did you find your freedom? </div><div>Are you still looking? </div><div>Doubting yourself? </div><div>Are you at the stage you feel for filled? or still looking for praise? </div><div>Do you still crave that one thing that will make you stand out? </div><div>Does it not worry you?</div><div><br /></div><div>I want to know the person behind the page. </div><div>Your reasons for what you do. </div><div>Share with me who you are what is your passion.</div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-39616245805715820852011-07-05T04:03:00.000-07:002011-07-05T04:20:48.977-07:00Appreciating..<div style="text-align: center;">Today i am appreciating.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC372I6_bXQvFZZ_s0W3tFOig4NN877JXUQfZzmCNrkwZ5fG8kh-VDLaV8LyEbxCXmsFe4KYYqfDosOsc7My0bI4KGVAQTzFEiFgPL91n-mEXQl7ZktB1ECeeS0MjQcLexIR0vADP6BG7i/s1600/booch4.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC372I6_bXQvFZZ_s0W3tFOig4NN877JXUQfZzmCNrkwZ5fG8kh-VDLaV8LyEbxCXmsFe4KYYqfDosOsc7My0bI4KGVAQTzFEiFgPL91n-mEXQl7ZktB1ECeeS0MjQcLexIR0vADP6BG7i/s320/booch4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824762095429858" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I appreciate sunsets. And the glow they have to offer at the end of an exhausting day.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYLRobjHx4enqTyhuQjh-Aj9Jo0YrdSyROzXPzNneDXYQX5hiKKZp8q1hpaUO6R07TknGdwPEuJclQDS_rM2YxGyBGFSSwoDI6-Tau7WyBUY_PpZo66XbxBMb1yc4vH48ea3_fVM2p3ae/s1600/booch3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTYLRobjHx4enqTyhuQjh-Aj9Jo0YrdSyROzXPzNneDXYQX5hiKKZp8q1hpaUO6R07TknGdwPEuJclQDS_rM2YxGyBGFSSwoDI6-Tau7WyBUY_PpZo66XbxBMb1yc4vH48ea3_fVM2p3ae/s320/booch3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824756037063970" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The dimples.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHcZwowDyleW0ClbbDXznLRLdaZSkBbKXiRVyoLufo5YaEbY-XyIzqKdQ6a3WKYRIuDJD0MCAvv4Vb9j4NheSCKruYJRGBtMPDnlLOBr4wslt7u76VvsrntqcqCIGhiiIVC2IoH7yRAy3z/s1600/booch+8.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHcZwowDyleW0ClbbDXznLRLdaZSkBbKXiRVyoLufo5YaEbY-XyIzqKdQ6a3WKYRIuDJD0MCAvv4Vb9j4NheSCKruYJRGBtMPDnlLOBr4wslt7u76VvsrntqcqCIGhiiIVC2IoH7yRAy3z/s320/booch+8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824307341917218" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The Love a baby has for his baby.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4IK9R6TLtt03KhLjmK74BgMn8ldS6VD7IymR9XHM7As5FUMMftx4Y_P8iXue4RyvUcMsbLUSGKA_bHDtxzXQE7PWbzdLvrTq__h21BgiR0IrSetP88LBbv9l410ptAJHsbYix3yAYJ4T/s1600/booch5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4IK9R6TLtt03KhLjmK74BgMn8ldS6VD7IymR9XHM7As5FUMMftx4Y_P8iXue4RyvUcMsbLUSGKA_bHDtxzXQE7PWbzdLvrTq__h21BgiR0IrSetP88LBbv9l410ptAJHsbYix3yAYJ4T/s320/booch5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824297418931186" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I appreciate the bond.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaFJKUMnTGPOgInmTYxWSSED0cHWu38s_KWTYWoE-dIeHGwql30WHYBb8U6dOMU7s3ISJYba6fILKfHXLqZ-mWCMc8oWshXRJ5EV8fAPfpt23zYQyZLlylh-ANvZSG9WwoFjHOq6hU8gq/s1600/booch6.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaFJKUMnTGPOgInmTYxWSSED0cHWu38s_KWTYWoE-dIeHGwql30WHYBb8U6dOMU7s3ISJYba6fILKfHXLqZ-mWCMc8oWshXRJ5EV8fAPfpt23zYQyZLlylh-ANvZSG9WwoFjHOq6hU8gq/s320/booch6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824295448366466" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The curls. I appreciate the curls..</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlE5CWlH0N2_sz7Op2YaHFb57fS7veaJF3WvznBbN4I3F4CWCGhyphenhyphenESbcASTYoRphW6hkYcMQ_yTdNnzKG2tfOaoLlow7JIyeOu57Atq_Bl5ewm82N6Utk_IuF1liGSdOMzfbRyVb3acwjq/s1600/booch+1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlE5CWlH0N2_sz7Op2YaHFb57fS7veaJF3WvznBbN4I3F4CWCGhyphenhyphenESbcASTYoRphW6hkYcMQ_yTdNnzKG2tfOaoLlow7JIyeOu57Atq_Bl5ewm82N6Utk_IuF1liGSdOMzfbRyVb3acwjq/s320/booch+1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824292978408802" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">The feet.. I pray these feet never grow.</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iHSgBuzXp2bsQeOU9YaW_0tsn_zbAquLNOVox0q4VvSQ7DJzE10HLFhBnNUWmh5k9u79IrwXI7MfmWOlGHkyI5AYnseFtHHBoNn0O5EQ9zeoCrxUL4dQnDkb4gFe9QOCHKNdXkRMEgyM/s1600/booch.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5iHSgBuzXp2bsQeOU9YaW_0tsn_zbAquLNOVox0q4VvSQ7DJzE10HLFhBnNUWmh5k9u79IrwXI7MfmWOlGHkyI5AYnseFtHHBoNn0O5EQ9zeoCrxUL4dQnDkb4gFe9QOCHKNdXkRMEgyM/s320/booch.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625824290903214178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I appreciate the way he looks at me. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLTdXadKIZTwBi0NT5eTZuQ746w494o5ArDnsv0jFu0zp9SYz09uM_l4mlm89g6Su17m7npuuSCj01Epi0XalEbD29420tfhs2Hjypat17RtMyhWRWPXXUhubIlOOop8fZ5kuP5Bk-j2sc/s1600/jettt.jpeg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLTdXadKIZTwBi0NT5eTZuQ746w494o5ArDnsv0jFu0zp9SYz09uM_l4mlm89g6Su17m7npuuSCj01Epi0XalEbD29420tfhs2Hjypat17RtMyhWRWPXXUhubIlOOop8fZ5kuP5Bk-j2sc/s320/jettt.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5625826008231216914" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Appreciating the strength he gives me.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Today, for the first time in a long time i was proud of myself.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Proud of what i achieved and proud of my family.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-14419205957260670182011-06-26T16:03:00.000-07:002011-06-26T17:12:32.501-07:00When did you get so big!?9.04am Monday the 27th of June 2005.<div><br /></div><div>My midwifes told me i should go home.. Labor wasn't progressing as fast as they thought it initially was and they had a hallway full of women waiting for beds to birth in. </div><div>I was hogging a room.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was alone, trusting myself and my body. I didn't want to go home.</div><div><br /></div><div>My parents were 45 minutes away, my best friend was at work and Jetts dad was at home.. Was just me and the midwives.</div><div><br /></div><div>I attempted to stall them. They came back in to my room at 9.35am to unhook me from the monitors and drips that were re-hydrating me. </div><div><br /></div><div>At the time i lived in a cute little fibro house, it was winter, we had cracks in our floor boards and it was freezing. Our hot water was minimal and took a good 5 minutes to reach 'warm' , So when they left my room.. i jumped in the shower. Scorching hot water pounding on my back. And within minutes i felt an odd feeling.. like a sharp pain down below. I didnt think much of it and put my hospital gown on.. then BAM!</div><div><br />10.00am my first contraction. </div><div>Intense.</div><div><br /></div><div>I walked out to my room and knelt against my bed. At the time i thought i i had wet myself, but my waters broke. </div><div>I reached for my call button and called for the nurse.. She walked in and roused on me.. </div><div><br /></div><div>"We NEED these rooms! No time for showers!'</div><div><br /></div><div>'I think ive wet myself' i sobbed..</div><div><br /></div><div>She pulled back on my hospital supplied paper underware and quickly said ' get on the bed, your waters a full of meconium' .. Pure gibberish to me..</div><div><br /></div><div>10.03am</div><div>I grabbed my phone call called jetts dad.. he needed to get to the hospital ..Stat.</div><div>I called my parents and managed to groan down the phone.. They got the drift.</div><div>And as per usual my soul sister had already felt it was time and left work to come and check up on me in hospital. </div><div><br /></div><div>10.10am i climbed in to bed and waited. Nurses and midwives piled in to my room with cribs and monitors mumbling to them selves 'Why didnt she call earlier?' .. 'Where are her support people?' .. 'Does she have a antinatal book?' </div><div><br /></div><div>I was confident i was birthing alone.</div><div><br /></div><div>10.15am</div><div>I hear the nurse at the desk asking 'And what relation to her are you?' .. 'Im her MOTHER!' And seconds later in came mum..</div><div>a minute later .. Jetts dad..</div><div>and then Lucy. </div><div><br /></div><div>My body knew it was good go to.. I pushed.</div><div><br /></div><div>And lord oh mighty it hurt!!</div><div><br /></div><div>10.20am I pushed again..</div><div><br /></div><div>10.22am I have birth to a gorgeous squishy little 7lbs 12oz baby boy. I instantly loved him. I couldn't see imperfections.. meconium.. vernix.. blood.. I saw his eyes, i saw his button nose and counted all his fingers and toes.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was in shock.. but in love.</div><div><br /></div><div>6 years ago today. Where does 6 years go? And why does it still feel like only months ago. </div><div><br /></div><div>I taught this boy, alone.. how to crawl and how to walk. I taught him words and manners. I showed him how to ride a bike and how to draw a dog. Me.. I taught him this. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jett is a typical 6 year old. He tests his boundaries, he insists on having the last word, The final say. Hes demanding, He leaves his under ware behind the toilet and he would rather eat boogers.. then sausage. </div><div><br /></div><div>But he is caring, and innocent. </div><div>He has the manners of an old soul. He loves anyone who will show him love. He is respectful, to those who respect him. He worries and is concerned, He doesn't everything possible to make sure others are happy. Sometimes it feels like a little old man is trapped inside a fresh body. </div><div><br /></div><div>We are totally blessed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Put the tantrums aside, the whinging and the back chat and hes is an amazing little boy. Affectionate and amazing.</div><div><br /></div><div>For those who have not met Jett, i hope one day you meet someone like him. </div><div>For those who have met Jett, you will know exactly where i am coming from.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wanted this boy with every single ounce of my energy and though weve had a long haul as a duo.. its been more then worth it.</div><div><br /></div><div>To my 6 year old. </div><div><br /></div><div>You keep me saine and insaine at the same time. </div><div>I would be a shell without you. </div><div><br /></div><div>x Mum</div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNXC3OWnLm-cT3aavzg_6pGVjZTUkCTR8mUwcFDVI2KCgnkT8xwihDLWMXQG4gi75BfYcpClMOkQY7Jx0sr0ZDuxpW2C1aUCn38Iu-wL7KTyu7Ml6tl1iGE038_W4QsK6mE8LJjQFwgSJZ/s320/jett0.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622679383912920274" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa4IwETJQdRxVm84rxONe9E6eHj65WZywrLgEQB_90PQXml93Pnm_9dMH-ELbn1_lD0vuFYQaOW9FOpF3V0DBR4gFpBopjtmh8MWrxbANK1ICuEem9FWn2bUtz6BTO4sQ5eDx50AhlW8I/s1600/jett2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQa4IwETJQdRxVm84rxONe9E6eHj65WZywrLgEQB_90PQXml93Pnm_9dMH-ELbn1_lD0vuFYQaOW9FOpF3V0DBR4gFpBopjtmh8MWrxbANK1ICuEem9FWn2bUtz6BTO4sQ5eDx50AhlW8I/s320/jett2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622684227077751650" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xXKSC-z_eOInslmqA3-hS-_Y1olJmuoF4lZdfZncEnOymeAK0oPcfT8LiJutiHAXSXS0knNJz3tae3b3fPTBmUp2ACn7kwOxuiqfXLyRjy-EyzZVxypUT3iIGd_CNTtQS_YKf93TJ5on/s1600/jett5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6xXKSC-z_eOInslmqA3-hS-_Y1olJmuoF4lZdfZncEnOymeAK0oPcfT8LiJutiHAXSXS0knNJz3tae3b3fPTBmUp2ACn7kwOxuiqfXLyRjy-EyzZVxypUT3iIGd_CNTtQS_YKf93TJ5on/s320/jett5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622684090257885106" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZSzlz2mcLyRp_-HsPK7C2oWmBC24tNfN5QNYJzi_ULDTNNBstONH2a636Z6pEQUIIbLrOJ8gSEeEeYJrNKR41Ye2aRog9_pJfY5h3MmGCFrUqpcexO_k9u7DGxCYbDx6_Mugr1kBRl1f/s320/jett6.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622677127281968418" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; ">♥</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-68526995566668613512011-06-25T03:11:00.000-07:002011-11-30T03:58:17.633-08:00A useless mum moment..<div>Is officially what i will STOP calling it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Im going to type this blog super fast, have to have it done before 9.00 pm so you literally stand up, walk to your children's room, listen to them breath, whisper you love them and then head to bed yourself.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've had a rough trot lately.. and today that ends. Tomorrow i let go of worry and anxiety and find peace in every single thing i have been blessed with.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today i made the decision to make the most of what life has to offer and tell the universe it can fuck right off with these ridiculous hurdles it is swiftly throwing at me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today.</div><div>Today i woke up dreading what it may bring. First day of holidays.. All 3 cabin feaver-ish kids.. We pottered around throughout the morning while i prepped for a car boot sale tomorrow morning.</div><div>Phoenix was a bit whingy and clingy so i popped him in to bed. He sooked , laughed, played and whinged for about an hour on and off.</div><div><br /></div><div>I finally realised he wasn't going to fall asleep and loaded the kids in the people mover and set off to take the bike to the bike shop to be repaired.</div><div><br /></div><div>Driving there i realised the sun was in Master 5's face.. so i turned to check if it was also in Phoenix's who was behind him.</div><div>It was.</div><div>I turned back as it looked like he was squinting, i thought of stopping to hang a blanket to stop the sun from hitting him, but realised id taken every single item out of the car to fit the bike it.. no blanket.</div><div>I turned back to check on coming cars so i could merge around the round about..</div><div><br /></div><div>Phoenix was blue.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a matter of seconds he had stopped breathing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its funny, when you try and think of something, when you really need to think of something. Your brain gives you nothing.</div><div><br /></div><div>In a space of 5 seconds. Which felt like an hour.. my brain told me it was the colour from his drink bottle lid, the reflection from his toy hanging from the door or a crayon..</div><div><br /></div><div>While trying not to hit any other cars while going around the round about i kept flicking my head back.. screaming profanities..</div><div><br /></div><div>I hit my hazards and started to honk my horn.. I pulled over still cursing over and over and while waving cars down i opened his door.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then i froze.</div><div><br /></div><div>The useless mum moment.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't move, i could touch him, i couldn't say anything.</div><div><br /></div><div>All i could hear was his five year old brother screaming 'Make him breathe'</div><div><br /></div><div>A car pulled over and ive never seen a woman run so fast.</div><div><br /></div><div>I manage to scream 'Hes not breathing' then fell down.</div><div><br /></div><div>Her husband quickly started to pat phoenix's back and he vomited litres and litres of fluid everywhere. Still gasping for his breath.</div><div><br /></div><div>I couldn't move. I just sat on the curb sobbing, In another mothers arms.</div><div><br /></div><div>My daughter didnt say a word. The look on her 2 year old face said it all.</div><div>My son, 5 years old, kept repeating the same thing over and over. 'Make him breathe'</div><div><br /></div><div>He eventually took Phoenix out of his seat and on to the pavement and stripped him down. My angels gave me towels and we clean his seat and wrapped him up.</div><div><br /></div><div>I felt like the words 'Thank you' had not enough meaning..</div><div><br /></div><div>With my jelly legs and ice cold shaking hands i managed to get myself back in to my car. and even said to myself.. 'Are you going to work legs??'</div><div><br /></div><div>I drove him straight back home and called the hospital.</div><div>They said the wait was at least 6 hours and perhaps phone the home doctor first.</div><div><br /></div><div>I popped phoenix in to a bath and sat with him untill the home doctor arrived.</div><div><br /></div><div>Phoenix has just finished his antibiotics for a chest infection and now he has bronchitis.</div><div>His oxygen levels are low and his chest sounds cloudy. Boarder lining pneumonia.</div><div><br /></div><div>Normally a person take around 30 breaths per minute. He is taking 72.</div><div><br /></div><div>The reason he stopped breathing was because his little body couldn't keep up.</div><div><br /></div><div>If it happens again , Doctor has given us his report to take him straight to hospital to start on oxygen.</div><div><br /></div><div>The point of me sharing this with you is this..</div><div><br /></div><div>This morning i spent 2 hours telling my kids 'Just give me a minute'</div><div><br /></div><div>I buried my head in boxes and cupboards.. on the first day of holidays.. neglecting the attention they deserved. I could have spent 2 hours sorting, during nap time.</div><div><br /></div><div>I put phoenix to bed out of frustration with his clinginess and sat Miss 2 in front of the tv with a bowl fruit and Dora.</div><div><br /></div><div>Every single second with your children means more to them then you will ever know.</div><div>They dont voice is, they dont make it known there appreciation. But they are at there happiest when they are on your lap. With out a phone in your hand, with out a laptop next to you.</div><div><br /></div><div>Just you, and them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today, when i saw Phoenix blue i thought of 20 billion things i wish i had have done.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wish id sat with him on the lawn with a full watermelon. No rules.</div><div>I wish i had showered with him.</div><div>I wish i had road him around the street on the seat of his sisters bike.</div><div>I wish i had stopped packing the containers in front of him, and let him play with them.</div><div>I wish i had layed on the trampoline watching the flight of bird scream past.</div><div><br /></div><div>But instead, i had rushed around, ignored the cry's of my children and got my priorities wrong. I messed up.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know and understand, i could not have prevented Phoenix choking. He is sick, that is why he choked.</div><div>But , what i he i never got to see him smile again. I never got to hear him smash my spoons and forks against my favorite saucepan?</div><div><br /></div><div>I need to stop and love my children more then i ever have.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its nearly 9pm. Your still awake, you have read my blog. Get up, walk to your babies rooms (big or small babies.. 1 or 21..)</div><div>Listen to them breath, give them minutes of your time.</div><div>Whisper you love them. And forgive yourself.</div><div><br /></div><div>x N</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJzba7c36HQXZW7uWI_US0efLd5MmofB5ndCaVcqjb0EAK7jWbu_T0Ydf_R6e4rRrOgknO9pyMdpNC_De4KhfgVwcMfQjOVu6PZjsBVMd2ue44uhmZ9NMy4IjWUjR8NVC5xkBregT91AU7/s1600/041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJzba7c36HQXZW7uWI_US0efLd5MmofB5ndCaVcqjb0EAK7jWbu_T0Ydf_R6e4rRrOgknO9pyMdpNC_De4KhfgVwcMfQjOVu6PZjsBVMd2ue44uhmZ9NMy4IjWUjR8NVC5xkBregT91AU7/s320/041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622110259262761906" /></a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-80090002401102184472011-06-16T18:15:00.000-07:002011-06-16T18:46:06.880-07:00$4.00 Worth of beautiful happiness.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div>i <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; ">♥ </span>The thrift shops trips where your looking for nothing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I am constantly playing with<a href="http://itscalledorganisedchaos.blogspot.com/2011/05/pretty-chuffed.html"> Addison-Dior's room</a> like it were my own.</div><div><br /><div>Adding trinkets to her collection, fixing her frames.. changing her pillow cases.</div><div><br /></div><div>Living my childhood through her room i guess.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today on my travels i ducked in very quickly to the Animal welfare league op shop in currumbin seen as though i was at the wreckers next door.</div><div><br /></div><div>Its these kind of buys you cant 'search for' .</div><div><br /></div><div>Double white lace and embroided duvet cover $3.00</div><div>3 for $1.00 pillow cases.</div><div><br /></div><div>1 ruffled pink case-</div><div>1 baby pink satin cover-</div><div>And, My rare find- The Swan on the front of this pillow slip brings so much calmness to her room.</div><div><br /></div><div>I wonder whos room this sat in and if they appreciate it as much as we do... I wonder if i will ever find a matching slip?</div><div><br /></div><div>Now all i need to do it sit in front of my PC 24/7 for the next week to score one of <a href="http://www.facebook.com/flowersfrillsbuttonsandbows">Flower Frills Buttons & Bows</a> - Swan Softie <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; ">♥ </span></div><div><br /></div><div>Im going to need supplies.. Chocolate anyone?</div><div><br /></div><div>x</div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCP8rFWv2fzCC0lwaCLSBsGsHGRhsPf3sHKggI7O6zyR0fs0iz07XUtnFNaBZsMsyTOJSZCrkSFgKoAjXB4g40SFW3SNvP1STJRXqq63OwennPkWect1Msbp3Keax5pUmxpEJRrCM4SRa-/s320/001.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618993390661659922" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh58dRnWG7ODNSJxbQ0cU2XDtozfHHAu5F6IzEB3bVJRr3aVV3fR79INBRQ5FL_idXvjJyON_-r66LekqPeFhtloWseOBofq_L8Owcx31yofDc8Q5FOw40UpW7BoQnDE5cNiI9NId_raXRh/s320/004.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618993413537526722" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH6nQVpDJroI2d5unWhIGucIZydHHKxOmMN9Nn91GTOHAZFmiWF1ozycJD6kUI2L8wb6Iw5g6yeoGMJorifuOVQE8TETRQ-0I6E-q55AgTILbDx7504onJXxkpXHGL6a6LCC_j93MfJ-eT/s320/007.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618995827341768898" /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDcuN5NCw40mk_MPrDqUVmuDxmr1p6oGOckkmLCB0BDMbMt2vOx-IGOzzhcNOrFC3eghYwzD-L6itvJNWIBfxwbat7PJaYy8QxvwJl5G-MDaXnKG0Pho6VHwlFMctNhlemog39FZkXT3Zl/s320/002.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618993398085098690" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497752593501069081.post-37111487811985717162011-06-14T17:37:00.000-07:002011-06-14T18:15:57.152-07:00A 'not so' Wise woman once said..I seem to have a shocking run of luck when i attempt going to the larger shops. <div><br /></div><div>A few months ago i got told that i was being inconsiderate to other shoppers by using a double pram whist only having one child <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">occupy</span> it.</div><div>My son was only 8 months old, we were at <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Ashmore</span> City (The shop speaks for its self) And it was a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Sunday</span> morning. They have a car boot sale on a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Sunday</span> so i had rummaged around there using the spare seat to store my buys then ducked in to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">IGA</span> to buy some milk. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was lining up behind the said woman when she stood back to far touching her ankle on my pram.. I appologised and moved back a little. </div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">That's</span> when her mental break down began.</div><div>Yelling at me how i was 'hogging' the isle and calling me selfish.. I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">borderline</span> bursting in to sleep deprived tears when she KICKED my pram.. tears turned to volcanic acid and i lost my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">barley</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">coherent</span> temper. </div><div><br /></div><div>For those who <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">dont</span> know, our son is very sick. His liver <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">doesnt</span> work , he <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">catches</span> every single virus going round and its very fragile. And at the time was not well. </div><div>I threw every single reason why she should not have touched my pram at her while holding back on hurling my 3L milk at the woman screaming back at me. </div><div><br /></div><div>The <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">supervisor</span> then <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">whisked</span> me away to another register and asked if i would like to make a report. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. Piled all my boot sale buys in my car, buckled baby in and just sobbed. </div><div><br /></div><div>A <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">couple</span> of weeks later i ventured to Kmart with little miss. Upon seeing a fellow 2 year old with a balloon she instantly wanted one. </div><div>Considering a balloon is a weapon to her, i dismissed her request and plonked her in a trolley. Then the blood curdling screams began. I hurried to the back of Kmart to grab my <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">USB</span> card reader and pretty much jogged back to pay and get out of the public eye. </div><div>On my way back a woman obviously with nothing else better to do then pull up a chair in a large store and voice her unwanted opinions on to others stopped and proceeded to tell Miss 2 to stop being such a feral child. </div><div><br /></div><div>HOLD UP.. I, her mother, the one who stored her 10+lbs body in my stretched to buggery stomach then gave birth to her in an unimaginably 8 minutes.. can call her a feral child. </div><div>But you lady, can not call her feral. </div><div>And i told her as much.</div><div><br /></div><div>She then let me know that she obviously got her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">attitude</span> from her foul mother and in her words 'Thank the heavens above this child was one of a kind' .. i could have knocked this woman <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">right</span> off her feet is she <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">wasnt</span> as old as my nan and i could afford to pay for damages to the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">biscuit</span> stand behind her. So i gave her 'that look' and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">hustled</span> my still screaming child to the nearest register. Again, back to my car to sob.</div><div><br /></div><div>This brings me to today.</div><div><br /></div><div>A simple trip to the shop to pick up a phone and <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">dish washing</span> liquid. Seems simple enough? didnt bother dressing up, just chucked on a clean cardigan and tied my hair back. </div><div><br /></div><div><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Dish washing</span> liquid- Check.. 15 minutes to kill <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">untill</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Telstra</span> opens. Lets hit the in-shop play ground. </div><div><br /></div><div>Straight away Miss 2 was the balloon her Mr 2 friend has. Which there were no more anywhere to be found.</div><div><br /></div><div>Full-on-lay-down-feet-kicking-coughing-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">tanty</span>. I simply turnde my head and ignored her.</div><div><br /></div><div>Along comes the not so wise woman.</div><div><br /></div><div>'Oh dear, you look exhausted.. do you only have the 2?'</div><div>'No, i have 3'</div><div>Oh! what were you thinking dear, with a child like that, i would have stopped at 1..'</div><div>'Do you have children?'</div><div>'No, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">ive</span> enjoyed my life'</div><div>-Awkward silence-</div><div>'Hey! little girl.. <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">that's</span> enough!'</div><div>'Thanks, i can handle it..'</div><div>'Single mother?'</div><div>'No.. I can handle this'</div><div>-<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Awkward</span> silence- .. waiting for her to leave..</div><div>'Well obviously not my dear. you look like you used to be a pretty woman, look what these kids have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">dont</span> to you'</div><div>' <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Im</span> just tired'</div><div>' You know what you need? An eye brow wax, a hair brush , a bit of make up and you will be back to looking like a pretty lady again'</div><div>'Wow, thanks'</div><div>'Your welcome, Bye now.. Be good for your mother children'</div><div><br /></div><div>So i pile my kids in to the trolley, that must make use look even more poor then she has already assumed, we march up to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">Telstra</span> where i yell over there screaming, pick up the phone, march back to my car and lay my head on my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">steering</span> wheel and sob.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">im</span> back home in a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34">headspin</span>.. kids in bed hopefully for the rest of the day.. (Wishes) Kicking myself for not buying that block of chocolate to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35">drowned</span> myself in.</div><div><br /></div><div>Why must people pick on me??!!??</div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNX28j1wrlnY9h-0MrTD9P6LpbIVrtg_KFNex4zMElwaZyjM7EamYKct_c3mW_u3stte7Qw-Y-oLTwBIBzi7pwZmtO9vbSIsaTrPyFenQNkIDP_fERsloJ_lE1lInK7dNUcXJG7New7BDd/s320/meme.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 124px; height: 166px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5618248781382556290" /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17083659543737993820noreply@blogger.com9