friday five|some fave snaps

A few bits & bobs from around these parts --
Currently reading The Hobbit with the most divine cover & the most obnoxious eye mask from Peter Alexander that's completely true, of course {not available online anymore}.

New favourite part of my home. I grabbed these felt boards from Officeworks {push pins also available there}, printed off a crap ton of pics and spent hours obsessing over photo placement. This area makes me ridiculously happy.

Anniversary love from Jax&Pepper on Etsy. I picked up this Wedding Anniversary Monthly View Kit {with custom date box} & this Bunny Love Kit to use on the week of our 7 year wedding anniversary. Her paper is buttery soft & just divine to work with. 

Dangerfield goodies -- the Long, Long Ago Cape & Pin Cushion Knit {no longer available online}.

My favourite cake from B's birthday weekend.


on married romance

I've always been slightly adverse to romance and by "slightly" I mean absolutely positively adverse to romance. It's just so stereotypical and boring. Vomit inducing. Cringe worthy. I'd rather stab myself in the eye and eat a banana than receive flowers on Valentine's Day. That kind of person. Yup, that's me. Luckily, I married a guy who would never buy me roses {because he wants to live} and would never, ever, ever, have proposed to me on Valentine's or Christmas {because he wouldn't have much liked drowning in vomit}. I'm also super lucky that the Husband doesn't mind I'm a cynical cow. And he loves me for me. That too.

Still, I don't mind some kind of swoon-worthy moments in my life. Like cheesecake in bed with a guy who knows that I find much more satisfaction in eating it straight from the packaging. Or reading together on quiet, chilly, nights. Or being surprised with a bouquet of strawberries. 

You always hear stories about how, the longer you're married, the romance dies. But I don't think that's true. I just think you learn to finally admit to yourself that the cliched romance is bullshit and you don't need candles lit while you're having sex. Sometimes, the most romantic thing a Husband can do is wash dishes twice a day if they're piling up or bring you back a stuffed chicken from Ikea. I used to think that sounded boring even long after the Husband tried to choke me with disgusting scented candles while trying to seduce me. But now...

The longer you're married the more you know each other, the easier romance gets, and it's wonderful. Because you get to just be with each other and stop trying so hard in all the ways that don't count.

So, I'm a huge lover of married romance. The kind people write off as "tired" and "boring". I'd much rather cheesecake in bed than flowers or a fancy dinner and I couldn't be happier. 


the problem with sick sex

You know how you always desperately need sex at the worst times? Like when you have your period and your cramps are so bad that your pubic bone feels like it's going to split in half? Yeah... that. I've always thought that you shouldn't have sex when you're sick because it's simply gross but, sometimes, you have to take some risks and go with what the lower half of your body needs even if your nose is blocked and you can't breathe and your throat is sore {which I guess is a good reason to not give blow jobs if they aren't your thing?}. Anyway, I digress...

Recently I was feeling a tad under the weather. Nothing too major but enough to leave me spending an entire day resting in bed and neglecting all adulting. Of course, my body chose that exact time to desperately need sex. Like, can't survive one more second without it. The kind of insist-your-Husband-leave-work-early kind of craving. That happens when you're forced to go longer than a week without it. But when you're sick...? Breathing is kind of an integral part of the act itself. Still, crotches need attention and, I suppose, binge watching The Girlfriend Experience may have contributed to the burning desire. 

At first I worried that my Husband would avoid me like the plague given the fact that I resembled Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer but then I remembered that he's my Husband and well... And then I worried that I'd have to blow my nose during but that never happened. None of the sick sex cringe worthy moments ever actually eventuated {and, yes, I imagined sneezing and the penis falling out -- can that happen in life? and why am I saying this?} but here's the thing --

Having sex when you're sick is a bad idea. Actually, having good, can't really walk after due to shaky legs and wonderfully sore areas, sex when sick is a bad idea. Because the wonderful sex comes with a heck of a lot of moaning and screaming {etc} and that's bad on the aforementioned sore throat. So you stay sick longer and it kind of seems worth it but, also, the longer you stay sick the less sex you can actually have. So you vow to stay off it... 

Except the next night you get that craving again and you try to withhold. Just cuddle in bed together. That should do it. Except in what world does cuddling ever fill the sex void? No world ever. Cuddling is crap. And, so, to make up for that hideously depressing ten minutes where you tried to be one of those people who felt like cuddling was more intimate and loving than a fucking penis you decide to move a few steps forward in the usual banging routine and whip out the silk tie and have an even longer marathon than the night before. And when you're done you feel even more stupid than the night previous because being tied up, teased and unable to move means more noise on that already worn out throat. And, then, your body takes even longer to recover from what should have been a three day cold. Because... sex. 

So, I've since discovered that this is the real problem with sick sex. Not snotty noises or the inability to give a proper blow job. Isn't it a good thing that I'm around to overshare like this? 


friday five|fave planner youtubers

It's been a fair while since I talked about my favourite planner girls on YouTube {see here} so I figured it was high time I did another. Mostly because I've recently discovered some amazing girls that make that planner sticker part of my brain oh so happy. Here's five -- 

Juli Ross -- a recent discovery and someone I quickly became hooked on for her accent alone. She has a wonderful planning style and her videos have this calming effect on my brain. Love her.

Viv Luvstoplan -- I was introduced to Viv from one of The Planner Sophisticate's videos {she's still my absolute fave btw} and I fell in planner love with her over her laugh alone. She got me hooked on memory planning and using my EC in a different way. She's adorable.

PlanningPeep -- one of those planners that are the complete opposite to me but that's what I like most about her videos. She mixes pre with post planning fabulously and she has a way of using cute deco without making her spreads seem too cutesy. 

mandydreams -- I found Mandy's videos after falling head over heels with her planner stickers. She has a wonderful planning style and her voice just allows me to tune out of all the outside noise and just focus on one thing. She's amazing.

STICKWITHMEshop -- just the cutest/sweetest planner person in the whole world. Her own planner stickers are the most adorable things since forever and her voice, planning style and sweet nature have me longing for her weekly PWM videos. 


& since I'm hooked on planner videos {what is so enthralling about watching people put stickers down?} I'd love for you to share some of your favourites!


misadventures in parenting|my proudest mumma moment

Recently, Bailey and I were having one of our regular disagreements about who loves snuggles with the other more. I am a terribly mature parent so this is a regular occurrence in our house. We regularly squabble over who loves who more, who is cuter and who is more ridiculous because, look, if you aren't acting the same age as your child what are you doing with your life?

It was during our most recent squabble that I had my proudest parenting moment. You may think that seeing B. take her first steps at 11 months or kicking ass at school would top the list but, meh, tons of kids do that. The fact that B. has always been genuinely kind has always been the thing I'm most proud of but even this moment tops kindness. Actually, it creeps up and tackles kindness and when it's done it throws kindness in the bin. It's just that amazing.

So, back to the squabble...

B. says "I love snuggles with you a million"

& I say "I love snuggles with you a million trillion billion" {because maths genius}

& she says "a million trillion billion ma-jillion"

& I say "a million trillion billion times infinity and then infinity again"

& Bailey tops everything everyone has ever done in the history of everything with --

I love snuggles with you times potato.

I can't...

My child is the smartest person I have ever known.

Stop worshiping Beyonce right this second. 

Of course, if you don't really know us you won't really get that potato thing but, suffice, to say potato is the thing in our house. I say potato when I'm at loss for words. I hate my name so much that I'd rather be called potato. I frequently say blah blah potato and so on and so forth. And, now, *pause for tears*, my child has created the greatest measure of love for anything with -- potato.

I don't think I could ever be more proud. 


In fact, no person could ever reach anything more amazing than what B. has accomplished so we should all stop trying.



on social anxiety

Sometimes living with mental health issues feels like trying to win a losing battle. Not just with your mind but with the majority of people around you. People that think you're faking it or can just click your fingers and be better. People who think, because you're with loved ones you'll be fine, no matter the situation, that you can be somewhere you're supposed to be happy and just be happy. And... no. Just no.

I have Genralised Anxiety but I also suffer from Social Anxiety and here's the thing -- I always thought social anxiety was being shy and introverted but, for me, it's not. Because, yes, I'm an introvert but I also enjoy dancing in public with my child and being an absolute idiot the majority of the time. I rarely care what anybody thinks of me. I don't care if I say the wrong thing to a waiter or if I say "good thanks" totally out of context. None of that stuff has ever bothered me.

 My social anxiety comes from being out of my comfort zone, my home. It doesn't matter where I am or who I'm with. It can come at any time. It's happened at weddings where I'm "supposed" to be happy but have had panic attacks instead. It's happened at B's school events where the crowds of people and noise of children has caused me to shake and collapse into tears in front of hundreds of people. Shopping centers where I'm convinced that I'm about to be murdered. Pregnant at the markets where I fell to the floor entirely convinced that somebody was about to try and cut B. from my stomach. Screaming fits of anxiety because just being around people hurts.

If I could switch it off I would. I can't. I want to but I can't. Being out in public scares me. Being in new places scares me. Being anywhere at anytime scares me. Most of me wants so badly for last years recluse-ness to return because it was lonely, sure, but it was also safe. I didn't go anywhere or do anything. I didn't have panic attacks. I didn't fear death. I didn't feel the walls closing in on me. I didn't feel suffocated in a group of people. That was nice.

I think some people don't get, can't get, won't ever get, that I am not going to subject myself to places where I don't feel safe. So no, I won't go to a club because loud noises and crowds cause panic attacks. I won't go to special occasions of yours if there will be a crowd of people. I can't. And I shouldn't have to subject myself to pain for anyone. I don't do that for my Husband. In fact, the only person I have done it for is Bailey and even with her I know my limits. I do miss school things if I know I can't spend the next few days recovering from the experience. In fact, I miss a lot.

I don't like crowds. I don't like being around people. And you know what? That sucks for me but it's okay because it has to be. I used to care so deeply about how other people felt that I missed their things but I don't care anymore. I don't care if you think I looked unhappy at your celebration or that I missed one. I don't care. I either push through the best I can without making a scene or I send my apologies because I know I can't do it. I know my limits. I know what my head needs. You and your feelings can't come into it. And they never will.

I am not rude. I am quiet. I am not a flake. I just know my limits. I am not selfish. I am just living with mental illness.


b. takes six

When I first found out I was pregnant, when I first heard B's heartbeat, when I saw her incredibly creepy ultrasound photo, I knew what everything meant, what I was supposed to be here for. I knew that all the hurt I'd experienced was worth it. If I had to go through it all again just to be able to spend an hour with her I would. She is my life. My favourite person in the whole entire world. How I realised that love at first sight actually existed.

Bailey at six, is the most amazing person I have ever known. The funniest, especially when throwing an epic tantrum. She's incredibly kind and thoughtful. Ridiculous in all the ways that I am. She reminds me so much of myself but she's also such an individual, so much her own person, so confident in herself that I am in awe of who she is. I know she's only six, I know that could all change, I know we may not always be as close but for now I am enjoying the ride. Enjoying that the past six years with B. {anxiety, depression, death and sadness aside} have been the easiest six years of my life. I never thought parenting could be so easy, so fun, so awesome. I think that's all down to B. I am so grateful for her.

I am grateful that B. loves bed as much as I do. Loves snuggles, with me. I am grateful that she calls me her best friend. Grateful that I have a child who cups my chin in her hands and tells me I'm perfection.

My incredible child. I love you.