28 days

IMG_20180202_123608_537Pinch, punch, first of the month.

What a way to start it, a super blood blue moon eclipse, a new school Term and a new health regime. What could possible go wrong? I actually have a problem with the word ‘regime’ for anything health related. Maybe too much time spent teaching 1984 and other dystopian literature, but it sets me thinking I will not succumb to it. This is never a good place to start mentally when you are attempting change or improvement. How about using the term ‘new health direction’? This has positive connotations and gives a sense of challenge and confidence. Much more appealing.

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The best laid plans

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As I was heading to bed last night, it suddenly struck me that tomorrow would be the last day in which I’d have any time to myself, until July. It was a horrifying realisation. It would be the last day that I had no work, no toddler and no Uni until the middle of Winter. I adore my baby, my job is great and I love studying, but I really cherish my ‘just me’ time. And I don’t get it often enough. So here I was, heading to bed, planning all the things I would do, for me, in that last precious 8am to 3pm slot I had coming up. Of course I had to tick off the Exercise, Rest, Create activities, my life savers that keep me well. A gym visit, some writing and the last episode of Broadchurch on I-view. Then there was the important process of maintaining relationships, so lunch with a friend I’ve been meaning to see since before Christmas. Retail therapy,  something new to wear for the first day back at work. House work, some cleaning and food prep to make next week flow a bit smoother. School work, prepping for the start of the new academic year. The day seemed to be busting at the seams already. But I could make it work. I had to. It was my last chance to do all of this. The list was complete, I said a quick prayer for some sleep (the usual fruitless plea – “please let her sleep through”) and I lay down.

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In giving, we receive

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One of the things that has stunned me having a little one is the amount of stuff you accumulate. I’ve worked out that in a mere 27 months, Little M. has gone through seven clothes sizes. Seven! That has been two drawers, full of clothes, seven times. It’s incredible. The sheer amount of waste is beyond belief. In the short time she has been a particular size, a matter of months, she hasn’t “ruined” any of them. Yes, a bit of pear discolouration or similar, but in general all these clothes are still in pretty good nick. Of course you pass things on to friends who are expecting, but that isn’t always needed. I wanted to find families that I could give these things to. When I had my first two drawer clear out of sizes 00000 and 0000, I phoned around numerous women refuges and also refugee settlement agencies. Yes, there were countless families in need, but as with everywhere, space was at a premium and there was no storage facilities at any of these places. Fortunately, I stumbled across the Perth based charity, Little Things for Tiny Tots . It is a volunteer-run charity which collects items and assembles boxes to assist in the first few months of a baby’s life. These boxes contain clothing, toys, nappies etc. and are then given to agencies such as hospitals, DCP and safe houses.

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King Park Yike

If anyone has made a visit to Kings Park Botanical gardens at the weekend before, they will know that the spill out from the overflow car park can ruin a perfectly planned picnic. So imagine my delight on pulling up and being able to window shop at Aspects from the driver’s seat. It is, however, 8 am. Approximately 35 women, of all ages and walks of life are gathering together, yoga mats on backs, sturdy walking shoes double bowed on feet and the fresh shimmer of sunscreen on their brows. Pleasantries are swapped, but these women do not necessarily know each other – I know no-one. Except Diana from Dia -Yoga. Diana, the organiser of this gathering, is brimming with vitality and genuine kindness, as she greets everyone individually. These women have left their cosy beds on a non-work day. They have left children, babies, partners, dogs. They have set their alarms and travelled, some from Rockingham and Yanchep. They had forgone the late night out, the extra glass of wine or three or the into the night chat with friends, to be here on time, with an extra spring in their step.

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