Tag Archives: coping

Information is beautiful, until paralysis

14 Sep

information is beautiful, until paralysisI don’t know about you but I’m finding a little information overload at the moment.

It’s as if there is so much information available to help me succeed in anything I want to do that it’s like the entire interwebs is beaming down celestial beams to help me become all that I can be.

I do want to be all that, but it’s a little exhausting at times.

We’re all trying to have time to do everything we need so, as much as I see the benefit of hacking life, I reckon mere survival should also be high fived.

We’re surrounded by –

Ways to be a better parent.

How to fit it all in.

How to organise your pantry.

Take a better selfie.

Housecleaning life hacks.

Be a better lover.

Be a better friend.

Have shinier hair.

How to be incredibly happy.

Obviously, I do not desire to let myself, my children, my pantry or my hair down but holy snapping duck shit, but my head starts to spin like Linda Blair without the zombie eyes and pea soup.

I don’t know where to start with getting my life in order, and according to the internet oracle I’m obviously doing everything wrong, so I’m getting the PARALYSIS. It starts in one leg like a dog with a tick and before you know it you’ve drunk a whole bottle of wine and decided to just leave world domination until tomorrow.

Do we really need to be ALL THAT WE CAN BE?

What if I just BE?

Slow down? Breathe a little?

You know when you’re sitting on the loo trying to do a poo and you push and push and all that happens is a fart at best or a fissure at worst?

Forgive the poop analogy but sometimes no matter how much you strain that shit ain’t happening so you just need to wait it out and not force it.

I read a post by Kelly Exeter yesterday about making life simpler that used the term ‘cherry picking’.

I am so guilty of that.

Looking at people’s fabulousness on social media and wishing I was living their fabulousness.

Their perfect husbands, hanging terrariums with plants that are alive, shiny well behaved children with clean faces. Their amazing shoes and handbags that match, and hair that never looks greasy. No adult acne. None.

No one puts the really shit bits on social media. Their partners skid marks, their infected ingrown hair on their bikini line, but you can guarantee everyone has THE SHIT.

And then I had the most hilarious thought.

I thought that if I’m in here looking at all of you thinking your lives look so interesting and cool and soooo together, then maybe someone out there is looking at my life thinking that my life looks so interesting and cool and I’m sooooo together.

And I laughed, and then I laughed some more.

information,

I had some girlfriends over for dinner on Friday night, and one of my girlfriends is going through a terribly difficult time in her marriage. And she said it….

She said the very words I had been laughing about.

“I see you and everything you do and I think you’ve just got it all so sorted, and you’re so together. You’re juggling everything and doing it on your own and you’re ok.” (paraphrasing, I was a bit squiffy)

I looked her in the eye and her told her that I spent a small portion of yesterday afternoon lying on the floor in my daughter’s room having a little panic attack and crying, hoping the children weren’t distracted enough from Jimmy Giggle to look for me and bust me on the floor, and I’d have to pretend I’d lost a shoe under the bed and got dust in my eye.

I don’t know where I’m going with this…..maybe I do.

Maybe it’s don’t be fooled.

Everyone is dazzling each other with smoke and mirrors, and if their pantry is jealously spotless maybe there is a skeleton in a closet that you would never wish for. Just cherry pick your own life. Look at those bits you love and highlight them and turn down the volume on the crappy bits.

Just breath. And instead of trying to be everything…

Just be.

At least for this week.

World domination can wait until next week.

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You’re not Wonder Woman, and that’s ok.

19 Apr

Wonder Woman bakes bread too

I had a little meltdown this week. It wasn’t really a private affair.

In fact, it was a little bit public.

Not public like pulled-my-undies-up-over-my head-and-wailed-in-a-supermarket type public, but public enough that a few of my friends rallied and came to my aid as they could sense that my frantic waving may actually be me drowning.

Public enough that some of those friends saw my tears because I felt squashed by the enormity of this playing grown-ups malarky.

After chatting and crying and laughing and drinking lots of tea, I feel like I’m back on top, but I’m left with a residual embarrassment that my friends now may not see me as a croissant baking (yes, I will milk it) super homemaker, juggling children, writing and chainsaws, all without breaking a sweat.

Now the truth is out there.

I am not Wonder Woman.

I would totally have a crack at wearing her outfit, but I would be nothing more than a pouchy-bellied, hairy-legged, mortal wearing a costume.

Why does this shame me?

It makes me wonder about women in general, I mean, what is up with us chicks, and dudes?
Dudes aren’t immune to this overwhelming sensation of being swallowed, surely.

The exhausting newborn phase, the frustrating toddler phase, the mind-bending child rearing business/juggling act while you work, keep the house, tend the garden, have nutritious dinners on the table not just once, but 7 times a week, and keep your sanity in check, day in and day out, is a damned hard slog and no one escapes without feeling like it’s all too hard sometimes.

I must once more applaud the solidarity of the sisterhood (sorry, lads. It’s not an exclusive club per se).
I cried out and my girls were there by my side.

On one sunny morning, on my back deck, 4 of my girls and I drank tea and talked about where we’re all at and suddenly I realised that this shit of mine is not unique.

I am not a rare species, so unusual that no one can perceive my plight.

I am not alone.

My friends were saying their relationships aren’t perfect and their children aren’t perfect. Other people’s lives aren’t as amazing as they may seem on the outside. One friend said she used to hear her neighbour yelling at her kids and wonder how you could speak to your darlings like that…. and now she feel like she has become that lady.

I sometimes feel like that lady.

I am not Wonder Woman.

Do you ever feel like that lady?

Probably, because you are not Wonder Woman either.

I mentioned on my FB page that I felt like I was not coping very well last week, and my online community poured love onto my page. How awesome is that?
Some people I’ve physically met, but others don’t know me in person, but they were there with advice and love.

Some great words of wisdom came from that. I want to share a few, you know, in case you ever feel like going for a long walk off a short pier –

If you start to feel like it’s all too hard, call a friend, and go for a cup of tea.

Take a walk in the sun, or dance to some music that you love.

Honour your feelings. Allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling, but be kind to yourself.

Nurture yourself.

Slow down and breathe.

Have a date night.

My personal favourite was have a whiskey. Whiskey always helps.

I just really want to impress upon you, if you’re feeling blue, you’re not alone.

Tell someone you’re struggling because there is no shame in not being Wonder Woman, and sharing the struggle brings forth wonderful women…. and wonderful men.

Flogging and flashing with some great linky link ups,  With Some Grace,  Hi, Mama G, thanks for having me!

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