In which I discuss man's version of God

A week ago, Eden wrote a post, and in it she wrote about some of her experience with Christianity.

It broke my heart. And just made me so incredibly sad.

I love my church. I grew up here. It's my home. It's my family.

I watch my little girl dance around in church, and I know that it is one of her safe places, I see her get excited when she knows we are going to church and it makes my heart happy.

But, the thing about church, is that it is made up of people. God's people, yes. But people all the same. And people can be really stupid sometimes. People can be wrong.

Faith is between man and God. Religion is man's version (and at times, mess) of it.

There are many, many things I love about my church. But there are some things I don't.

However, it is the place I have chosen to call home, and put down my roots. At some point, I think you either need to make a decision to be in, or out. You can dance around the edges of it all, but that can sometimes just be a different kind of superiority really. And a coal that isn't in the fire may die. My church is my fire. I have made a decision and I will do my best to stick with it. I am not completely and wholly loyal to it, the way I am to God. If I had big, unresolvable problems with our practices or ideas I might have to find a new home. But right now it is mine.

I don't agree with every little thing that we do. But the thing is, it's we.... I am the church. The church hurts people, it does things wrong sometimes. I have been hurt and disillusioned by people in the church. But I am people in the church. I have hurt people too.

We make a big deal out of things we shouldn't. We place importance on things that are not important, and we ignore the things that matter.

What happened to Eden.... it was wrong. It shouldn't have happened. I am sure that it made God sad. And unfortunately, she isn't alone. There are people I know that have been hurt. There are things I watch us do, things that I do, that I am not 100% happy about. I worry that we are not the church God wants us to be.

But I am just trying to be the best church that I can.

My chicken has not been funky

Did you ever watch Buffy the Vampire slayer? Not the cool Buffy with Sarah Michelle Gellar, but the dodgy early 90's Buffy that was so bad it was almost good? If you have, then you might remember the cheerleading scene, where they do that cheer, 'how funky is your chicken' (which is really weird by the way). Anyway, whenever I hear that word 'funk' it transports my head immediately to that scene and I start chanting in my head.

Just a little back-story to explain the title.

So anyway, a couple of days ago, one of my very favourite bloggers, Nat the Fat Rat, posted here about being in a funk. It was one of those posts that makes you go 'Yes!' if you know what I mean? Because I have been struggling a little lately. For like, the past few months. I think it started sometime right at the end of my pregnancy with Charlie. I just lost my joy, and was merely going through the motions.

It happens. And really, considering all the upheaval our lives have had lately, it's hardly surprising. But everything has just been so much work. Being happy, smiling, thinking good thoughts... I could still do it. It's wasn't depression. But it just took so much effort to do it all.

I've still had moments of joy, Charlie has been a huge source of my joy lately. But I lost my sparkle, my flair. I lost my me.  But I think the fog is lifting. Without even realising it, I have been developing routine's, strategies, and I've had a few epiphanies that have helped bring me back.

Mostly it's been little things, like restructuring Georgie's bedtime routine to accommodate Charlie and the fact that I am flying solo. I have learned that a little bit of cleaning and tidying at night time after the kids are asleep goes a long way, and I am also learning that you can never undervalue the importance of a good night's sleep.

But mostly I've remembered that I need to help myself too. I kind of hate that whole 'Take time out for you' mentality that gets bandied about so much. Mostly because it often comes from advertisers trying to sell you something. I hate the culture that tells us to put ourselves first, to indulge, to be selfish.... because really I don't think lack of selfishness or indulgence is an issue in this western world!  But to some extent, it is true. It is important to put on your own breathing mask before you help someone else with theirs. To be the best Mum and wife and Robyn I can be, I have to take care of myself a bit. And for me, the thing that helps the most is exercise. So in the past month, I've been working really hard to exercise each day, and my goodness it has helped!

Mostly I've been walking, but I've also gone for a swim whenever I get the opportunity, and I've ridden my bike a little too. I even managed to get to the gym last week and do a pilates class which was fantastic (although I hurt like hell for days afterwards!).

I still have my off days. On Saturday I was a weeping mess for lots of silly little reasons. But the point is, things are getting better. The good days are definitely outweighing the bad. My chicken has not been funky... but it's getting there.

Weirdest cheer ever.

{Grateful for the small things}

This morning has been all kinds of stupid.

I woke up to Charlie telling me he was ready for a feed. As I was feeding him, Georgie woke up. I finished feeding him and left him lying on my bed while I went in to Georgie. I found her covered in poop, which apparently has a play dough-like texture that makes it great for playing with. Not fun. That being said..... she was not eating it. {Grateful for the small things}

After chucking her in the bath, soaking her sheets, wiping her cot and the walls next to her cot and getting her dressed and ready for the day, I walked in to get Charlie who was just starting to fuss. I discovered more poop. Charlie's nappy had sprung a major leak and there was a wonderful big mess all over my bed. It had even gone through to our mattress protector. Not fun. Plus, today it has been raining and storming, making it much harder for me to get all this washing done.

Some days you seriously wonder why anyone would have kids.

I was trying to get us all fed and out the door by 9:30am as I had a meeting to go to. I was just starting to get really stressed as I could not put Charlie down without having him scream, so I had no idea how I was going to have a shower when I got a text message. It was from my sister, Jenny. It read 'Thought I'd cook you a lasagne today. Sound ok?' {Grateful for the small things}.

As I was just getting everything organised to go, Charlie was just starting to fuss again in his bed. Before I got to him Georgie had raced ahead of me and was reaching into the cradle to pat him on the head. {Grateful for the small things}

This motherhood thing can be so hard sometimes. It's easy to suddenly have everything pile on top of you and you feel like you are drowning. Little tasks which used to be so simple now seem so amazingly difficult. I am desperate for just a little bit of space. But amidst all the chaos that is raining down, there are patches of light. I've just got to remember to look for them.

Dear Me....

Dear Me,

Relish your life. I know that it is hard at times. I know that sometimes it feels like this is all too much work, and it is never going to end. But the truth is that you are living the dream, and this will pass all too quickly.

Squeeze those chubby little baby legs. Kiss those beautifully soft cheeks. Listen to that beautiful gurgly laugh. Imprint that girl's stunning smile into the very depths of your memory.

One day they will be grown up, and it will all be gone. I know that it is hard being a Mummy all of the time. But cherish the fact that you can be a Mummy all of the time. Be grateful that you can belong to them exclusively. Be thankful that you have the freedom to enjoy this gift of childhood.

Even though you are so, incredibly tired and you feel like you are never going to get yourself back again.... remember that you will. One day your body will be yours again. One day they will no longer belong to you like this, and you will miss being their everything. One day they will have problems that you cannot fix with a kiss and a cuddle.

Remember that some people cannot have children. That they are desperate for the thing you take for granted. Remind yourself that what you have is precious.... and it can be lost. Hold on tight to those little hands. Glory in the wonder that is motherhood. Try not to yell, or scream, or lose your temper. This time is too short to be unhappy. But if you do... forgive yourself, and move on. Nobody is perfect, and what you are doing is very hard. It's okay to fail and struggle.

You don't have to enjoy every minute of it. Changing dirty nappies is not fun. Cleaning is not fun. Rocking and cuddling upset children when your eyes are hanging out of your head is not fun. Chasing a cheeky toddler down the aisles of Target while holding a grumpy baby is not fun. But enjoy the good moments. And remember that the bad ones will be over soon, even though it doesn't feel like it.

Above all else..... Love them. Love them extravagantly. And remember this. So much of this is fleeting, even though at times it doesn't feel like it. But you will never get it back. Don't waste it. Embrace it. Own it. Don't let yourself get in the way of the joy that is being their Mummy.

                                                                                                                     Love, Me.

A new perspective...

I was mindlessly watching TV tonight, when I flicked onto ABC and got sucked in to a brilliant Australian film called 'Here I am.' Here's the trailer if you're interested.

It was a really thought-provoking film for me. I missed the beginning, but the basic gist of the storyline revolves around Karen, a mother who is just out of prison. She finds shelter at a place for women like herself. The story is about her long road towards reconnecting with her daughter, who is in the care of Karen's estranged mother. I won't give away too much, because it is really worth watching. But it got to me.

I think I've only ever really seen one side of the story when it comes to parents who lose custody of their children. My family fostered for a while when I was younger, and I have a friend who fosters. And I've just always found it very hard to understand how people could mistreat their children and lose them. I have had little empathy for those who abuse and abandon their children.

I judged.

But this story really made me look at it from the other side. I'm not saying that people shouldn't be held responsible for the consequences of their actions. But at the same time, I just really had my eyes opened to just how bad some people have had it. There are so many people who have been so damaged in this life. Words really cannot describe it. Some people do really get the shortest end of the stick. Every. single. time..... Life just seems to thrown them every curve ball it possible can.

And I am so damn blessed.

I never really thought of myself as being born with a silver spoon in my mouth. We never had a lot of money, and life was tough at times. But I was. I am educated, I have always had a roof over my head and food in my fridge. I have never been beaten or raped. And I was loved. So much. I was loved extravagantly. I am loved extravagantly. And that is everything.

I don't think that circumstances excuse people. We all make choices, and at some point we become responsible for them. There is only so much you can blame others for mistakes you've made. But I do wonder, if you gave all the broken people in this world the start that I was given, the family I had.... how broken would they be?

There but for the grace of God go I. 

I will probably still judge again. It's easy to do, and I am so very good at it. But I'm going to try really hard not to. I'm going to try to remember that so many times the people who are doing damage were once damaged themselves. I'm also going to try to remember that some of those who I judge are trying to pull themselves up...  And that is so hard to do. It's much easier to never fall than it is to fall and have to get back up again. I've just got a new perspective on things, and I'm going to try to hold on to it.

Linking up with Glowless for Flog Yo blog Friday.

This thing called Life...

Some days I feel like I am doing well. Other days I wonder what on earth I am playing at, and how long it's going to take before somebody notices that I'm doing everything wrong.

Some days the house is beautiful. I look at where I live and I feel happy. My yard is spacious and green and lush, the garden is lovely and my house is clean and tidy. My floor is spotless and the bathroom looks nice. Some days the washing up is done, the folding is put away and my washing machine motors away merrily. Some days I feel like I am winning in the constant battle against untidiness that seems to fill my life.

Other days the house is a pigsty. My garden is a mess and everything is dry and yellow and horrible. The lawn is overgrown and 'didn't we just mow it the other day?' The floor is filthy and I have to put on socks just so the anal OCD side of me doesn't burst into tears just because I am walking around feeling dirt gather on my bare feet. On those days nothing is clean and it is never going to get clean. There are just too many dishes piled up on the sink and the folding basket is overflowing. Those days cleaning is just too hard and there is no point anyway- it will all be dirty tomorrow. On those days days my family are the soul-sucking leeches that continually mess up everything, and they have no thought or appreciation of the fact that I spend my life cleaning up after them.

Some days with my child are good. She sleeps well and has long naps and is quite happy to play independently. She is cheerful and smiles at strangers and is obedient and well-behaved. We play together and I just adore her, and her smile seems to be everything in the world. Some days my child is so happy and I feel like I am doing a fantastic job as a mother. Some days I know that I am exactly where I am supposed to be and could not imagine going back to work and leaving her because I know that what I am doing is good and worthwhile.

Other days my child is a holy terror. She screams and hits and scratches and bites and is miserable and unhappy. On those days she does not sleep, eat or listen to a single word I say. Other days she whines and cries and follows me around moaning all day and I struggle to keep myself together until she finally goes to bed. Some nights it feels like I have hardly even touched my bed and I am literally a walking zombie. Some days I wonder what on earth I am doing as a parent and it is all I can do to stop myself from calling the nearest childcare centre, because even a trained monkey could do a better job as a mother than me.

Some days I am a good wife. My husband is happy and he comes home to a happy, smiling wife and child. Some days he has plenty of clean clothes to wear and a nice dinner to eat. Some days he is happy in his work and we communicate effectively like two grown-ups. Some days the love I feel for him is so great I can hardly contain it. Some days I feel like the most beautiful, wonderful woman in the world.

Other days my husband comes home to a screaming banshee of a child and a wild-eyed, psychotic woman for a wife. He is unhappy in his job and has had a terrible day and all he wants to do is sit down and have a beer and watch some TV, but his wife makes unceasing, complicated demands on him until he feels ready to explode. Those days he comes home to a house that is in shambles, he has no clean clothes and there is nothing to eat and home certainly doesn't feel like a safe haven. Other days my husband is a negative, miserable unhappy man who I have no idea why I married. We have nothing in common and our level of communication is frighteningly similar to that of toddlers.

Some days I am glowing in pregnancy. I feel the movement of life within my tummy and am astounded at the life within me. Some days I feel like a beautiful picture of femininity and cannot wait to meet this baby. I have plenty of energy and feel like pregnancy is a wonderful experience.

Other days I am tired of being pregnant, and just plain old tired in general. I hurt everywhere and I feel unwell and am so sick of my body not being able to do the things I want it to. On those days the baby continually jumps on my bladder, or kicks me in the ribs and I am so uncomfortable. I wonder what kind of God could think that pregnancy or birth was a good idea and surely He could have designed things better? Other days I am terrified of going through labour again and cannot stop myself from thinking of everything that could go wrong. I do not want to have two children under two and have no idea how I am going to cope. I feel like huge, unattractive ball of yuck and just want to hide in my bedroom because nobody could possibly want to look at me.

Some days I am witty and intelligent. I write a post and receive many comments about it and feel encouraged like I really do have something valid to say. Some days the internet feels like a nice, friendly space and I am so grateful for the people I have met and gotten to know.

Other days I spend my life slaving away at the computer and neglect my life. Other bloggers and commenter are rude and stupid. Nobody ever says a single thing to me, or replies to any of my tweets or comments, so I may as well be invisible. Obviously I have nothing to offer the world and I cannot write for peanuts. Everyone else is better than me and I should just stop wasting my time and just get on with my life.

Some days life is easy and it works. Other days living can be the hardest thing in the world. Some days I feel like I've got it right, others I wonder how I could ever be so far wrong and I am glad that every day is not like that. I like that most days are a mix of both, not cry-yourself-to-sleep dreadful, nor dancing-on-clouds happy. I'm very grateful for some days, but on other days, the best thing that can be said is that the day is over.

Linking up with Glowless today because it's Friday!

Lonely

Most of the time, my life is good. And I know it. I appreciate the fact that I am better off than about 90% of the world's population.

But on days like today, all I know is I'm lonely.

I hate having my husband away.

I feel so useless staying at home.

I know that being a Mum is a very important job. But at the same time, is it all I am? Because at times I feel.... unfulfilled. I feel horrible for saying that. But there it is.

Maybe it's because I only have one child. Maybe with more children the feeling will go away and I'll feel like I'm achieving more.

I really do think that this, this being a stay-at-home-mum, is of value. I believe that I am doing something, giving my child something that is so worthwhile.

But at times, like now, I don't feel it.

I've mentioned it before, how I didn't think earning money defined me. And I don't. But when me staying at home means my husband works so hard, it just doesn't sit well. Sometimes, he is away for weeks on end, with only weekends at home in between. We could change. We could downsize. Live on less. But really if I'm honest, the problem also comes from the fact that Shane's work isn't just about money. He also works for his family's business. So it's much more complicated than a regular job.

His parents have helped us out an awful lot over the years. And Shane does value the fact that he has gotten to know his Father so well. He has spent a lot of time with his Dad. They have gotten to know each other, and respect one another as men. There are so many men who would give anything for more time with their Dad, and Shane knows that. But at the same time, there is also a lot of baggage that is involved when you work with family. There is a very high cost. And some days it's all just too hard.

Shane often says, if he dies tomorrow he would be so disappointed. He wouldn't have spent as much time with us as he could have. And that hurts. We are only looking at this, his current work situation, as being a very short-term thing, in terms of how long you have to live. But at the same time, we don't know the number of our days. And we want to spend as many of them as we can together as family.

I am so incredibly grateful for Georgina. She is so much sunshine in my life. Loving her, looking after he, makes me smile constantly and I'm so glad for that.

But it too, comes with a cost. It means that I have a lot of space. Sometimes too much. Now don't get me wrong, sometimes she can drive me practically insane. But, many of the things I do as a Mum right now, they don't necessarily require much, intellectually, of me. So at times, I have a lot of time to think. To over-think.

I wish I could do something more that challenged me a little you know? I don't want to be crazy-busy and not be able to stop and smell the roses, but at the same time, you can only smell so many roses.

I want to get my mind busier.

I don't know how yet, and I don't know that now is the right time to do anything. But I wish I did. And I wish I knew how to be okay with being alone every night. With waking up alone every morning. It's not really a gap that other people can fill either. I am glad to live near family and have friends. But they can only help so much. And at the end of the day other people go back to their own houses and families.

I hate the late afternoons. When the clock hits about 5:30pm or so, Georgie needs to be home, having dinner, going to bed. Most afternoons find me at Mum's. And oh, how I dread going home. Some days it is too hard, going back to a cold empty house. Having to be busy, busy getting Georgie ready for bed. I can't wait to put her to bed at night, to have space, but at the same time I hate it, because I miss her company.

Maybe that's why I've run with blogging so much. It's a chance, an opportunity, to get words out. To feel like I am still part of the world and not completely disconnected. To communicate and feel like I actually have something of value to offer. At least I can talk to Shane on the phone often. At least I have family. Sometimes the space is nice, I can have a bath and read at night. But sometimes it's too quiet. I know people who are desperate for what I've got. But knowing you have what others crave doesn't make what you have any easier.

Sometimes it's just not enough.

I am still lonely.

the taste of grey...

There is an old lady who lives down the road from me. She has lived in that house for as long as I can remember. Every afternoon she and her dog, Rosie go for a walk. Rosie doesn't need a leash. They always walk the same path. Two slow moving figures at the exact same time, every day.

I long for that kind of predictability. For routine. Yet at the same time, the idea of it makes me feel stifled, claustrophobic.



I don't want to whine or moan. I hate it when you read from other people's perspectives and it's all doom and gloom and negativity. Most of the time I think of myself as an optimist. But today has just been.... awful.

I miss Shane. But it's not just that. Georgie has been quite grumpy, and every time she has gone to sleep the dogs have woken her up with her barking, or the phone has rung. I've been tired (exhausted!). But it's not even all that. It's just a general pervading greyness that has hovered around and oozed over me all day.

I have not done a single productive thing. The house looks exactly the same as it did this morning- maybe even messier. I have been a grumpy, horrible, fishwife all day. And I hate that, you know? I hate that all day Georgie has been around a grumpy person. I don't want my baggage to colour her world. I know it has to, to some extent. You simply can't help that if you love. But I don't like it when I let my baggage become all-consuming.

I am just so tired of my life. I want routine. I want to be able to look at the clock in the afternoon and be able to think, 'Shane will be home in X amount of hours'. And even when he's home, we never get that. There's always work to do. Time off is rarely completely time off. There's a blessing and a curse of working in a family business and working within a disorganised, chaotic industry. But I want to look forward to weekends and make plans. I want to be able to look forward to things with certainty instead of hope. Far too often we don't make concrete plans because we just don't know if we're going to be able to keep them. We say, might, or should, or hope to. Not yes.

Now please, don't judge me. I know I'm having a pity party, but I am allowed to! I promise I am trying to get out of this soon. And I know there are so many people who are dealing with issues that are so, so much bigger and harder than this. But right now, for me? This is my hard. We all have our own problems. And no, there is nothing we can do. This is it for the next couple of years at least. I'm really not trying to make people feel sorry for me either. But I just want to get this out, your know? And I'd like to know if we're not alone. If anyone else has to deal with this kind of thing?

Because right now, it's just not fair.

Confession: I am a scrubsaholic

I love, love, LOVE the television show scrubs. I have all of the seasons and have watched it ever since season 1. This right here? My favorite scene from any episode ever!






Also, I have a baby who is sick and will not sleep and I'm about ready to.... do something. Maybe inhale a kilogram of chocolate (spot the emotional eater here!) I have put her to sleep 4 times in the past 2 hours. She just keeps waking up. And.... there she goes again.

This really sucks.

You don't wear my chains

Everyone has problems. Some are enormous and some are not.  The young guy who goes to your church tried to commit suicide four years ago. That married couple you know that just seem to have life so easy? The husband is addicted to porn. That man who you see at the coffee shop has insomnia. Those people down the street who always smile and wave? She suffered from post-natal depression. These old people? They could never have children. That perky teenager at the local takeaway store? She cuts herself. That teacher who goes on all those holidays all the time? She wants to get married but her boyfriend doesn't. That woman with the three beautiful children? Her mother is sick. That man who is always on stage with the local performing arts society is constantly questioning his own worth. The beautiful woman who you see at playgroup and whose husband sings so well and seems to adore her? They are struggling to make ends meet.  That woman over on the other line at the supermarket? She struggled with anorexia as a teenager. That moody pre-teen has a father who has just left and she thinks it's her fault. And maybe some people are just struggling with life in general.



It's easy to look at people and think they've got it all together. But how well do we really know those around us? We don't share everything. Sometimes we don't need to. But at the same time, don't judge another person based on the tiny bit you know about them.

Often I get quite frustrated because, (living in my home town especially) I am surrounded by so many people who know me. They've seen me grow up, or they know my family, or they are my family- and therefore they make their judgments on me based on what they know. But we don't know everything. You don't know people's innermost secrets. You don't know what's going on in someone's mind.

I struggle with my self worth many days. I have trouble looking in the mirror sometimes. Many nights my husband comes home and I torture him with my behaviours, for no good reason- simply because he's there. As a  teenager I had huge problems with my body image and struggled on the brink of bulimia in my final year of school. I had problems with friends and social interaction sometimes at school and spent many of my childhood days hiding in the library or in the toilets. I worry some days that I have post-natal depression (I don't think it's possible not to have your first child and not struggle with PND on some level). And that's just a fraction of what is in my head.

This is not to be all doom and gloom and say 'Oh look at me, isn't my life hard? Feel sorry for me!' Life is not all pain and difficulty. But I am trying to say; Look at me, I have GREAT family support, and many of my life lessons have been relatively easy. So if I struggle like this, how much more might others?

You can't tell who people are just by looking at them. Now I know that there's some horrible things that happen to people. Many people have been dealt terribly unfair blows. And some of us are just dealing with the little everyday things that come our way. But people's problems are just that. Their problems. We all struggle with something. But regardless, I just think that we shouldn't judge books by a few pages.

Insert witty post tittle here

Georgie has been sick over the weekend. We've had a horrible couple of nights and I've been getting pretty stressed. Today when Shane got home he told me to go have half and hour, so I put a leash on Chloe and we went for a walk.

As I was walking I went past my old work and I started thinking about life before Georgie. I used to be incredibly busy, days were very full. I would wake at around 6:30am and go for a walk, then start work at 8:30am, and finish at 6pm with an hour for lunch. My work was pretty energetic, as I was the Group Leader in the pre-kindy room and was in charge of 16 children. I would generally go to the gym at 6pm, and do an exercise class of some description and not be home until 7:30pm or so, when I'd cook a very easy dinner, watch television for a while and then go to bed. Most days I would also ride my bike to work and then to the gym.  Shane started work at 5am and didn't get home until about 7pm. Life was pretty busy.

Now, Shane still leaves for work at around 5am. He normally gets Georgie up and brings her into bed with me, where I feed her and then she and I go back to bed until we wake, generally at around 8am. Then my days are filled with cleaning, Playgroup on Tuesdays, cleaning, coffee with friends, cleaning, groceries, cleaning.... and that's about it. I try to walk when I can, but I just seem to find it very difficult.

I don't want my old life back. I love Georgie to bits, and Shane and I see a lot more of each other and are much closer than we've ever been. But I still miss how full my days were. I long to be busy, busy, busy- constantly on the go and moving and doing. Life is much... slower, now. I don't want it to be this slow. I don't want to be as busy as I was before, but I wish I had a better balance than I do now, you know?

I can't sleep. But I'm always so tired. I just have so much trouble switching off. Many nights I can't sleep until at least midnight. I think some of that is because Georgie and I have been sleeping in lately, (partly due to the fact that we've been up in the night a lot recently due to teething and her being sick, and honestly, if you had a child who would sleep in wouldn't you?), and I know some of it is because I just enjoy the solitude of the night, when everyone's asleep and I can be alone without someone requiring something of me, but I also think some of it is because I'm just desperate to do.

I know that the busyness will come with more children. But I need to be more disciplined now. It was just so much easier when work did it for me.

Tomorrow I'm going to try to make myself wake up at 6:30am, regardless of what kind of night's sleep I had. I'm going to try to finish my Diploma in Children's services this year, and I'm going to make myself walk every day. I'm going to try. I just wish things weren't so hard.

Her Mummy

The local performing arts society in my town is doing a production of.......

And I want to be in it REAL bad. I think I could pull off Sandy.... (maybe? :)

However, I have a baby,  and with Shane's unpredictable hours there's just no way it can happen. It's quite frustrating because I'm finally at a stage where I have less inhibitions and would really enjoy being in a musical production, and my town hasn't really done a production that I would have loved to be in for a while.....

But she needs me. I am her Mummy. Something nobody else can be. And sure, I could probably (if I swung things right) be in the production. But it would be very unsettling for her. I would have to enlist an awful lot of help from my Mum (who doesn't need to be a babysitter all the time- especially when she is also working) and it would probably put an awful lot of strain on Shane too, especially if I was in a lead role.

There will be other productions. But Georgie will only be my baby once. So in the meantime, I will help out as much as I can with the choreography, which is still lots of fun. And I will remember that some people would give their eye teeth for all that I have. I am a Mummy. I am her Mummy.