Categories
Life

Grateful.Tired.

Life is busy and overwhelming at the moment. I’m better for the tools I’ve found to bring me back to softness (walking, gratefulness, meditation) but it’s a mammoth slog I’ve been through.

And a mammoth slog that lay ahead.

My husband and I are merging two houses into one. House work must be done. Small children must be both survived and parented beautifully, given the monstrously high standards I set for myself.

And I need to write, or create (more than I have been) or I might die. No one is dramatic here. No one at all.

I’ve never been through a period of life that has been so truly exhausting, from all angles, for so long. A million different balls hover in the air around me and I do not know which one to reach for in order to catch it and bring it down.

Not only that, but my spirit is quite literally breaking free from my body, shouting (well, more buzzing and glowing, really) to be let out, to be set free. From something. From everything. The energy that moves through my body so often brings such beauty to my life, but I can also hear it asking to be apart of something more. I wish I had the time, clarity, and grit to give it what it is asking of me.

I’m grateful.

I’m tired.

And it’s tough. And it’s oddly beautiful.

Photo by Kristina Polianskaia on Pexels.com
Categories
Poetry

Parents

To the parents.

Sometimes it is hard.

It is.

It just is.

Always remember the storms do pass.

Always remember the softness

and the sweetness,

the rose beyond the grey.

And we will grow them

perfectly

horribly

beautifully.

And all will be as it should.

All will be as it should.

I see you.

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Explore

I’m sitting at a table with one kid beside me, and another kid beside the kid beside me. My kids. Precious and two (although given they are six and three years old— it sometimes feels as though there are ten of them. Bless.) 🙂

We’ve just watched the most beautiful, beautiful show thanks to the wonderful program my little boy’s school is remotely running for school. It’s a fish thing. A deep blue sea thing, to be exact, and this week we are learning all about the beauty and majesty of the deep blue sea. I say we are learning because it seems there is quite a lot I don’t know about the ocean. For example, I’ve only just learned that, not only is coral alive, it also gives birth to real-life coral babies! Mind blown.

It just goes to show how sound asleep I’ve been for the majority of my life, sticking to the lanes I already know. The beautiful news is: there is a brighter shine to my perspective now that I’ve opened my eyes. The world seems magical and alive, again, more than ever before.

There is a small problem. There are so many wondrous, exciting, beautiful pathways to explore, and yet there is the lingering truth that finding time (and energy) to explore them remains a challenge. I’m part parent, part human with desires of my own. I’m not sure I’ll ever find the balance it takes to successfully master both at the same time, but I’ll never stop trying.

Let the life within me swell from the excitement of possibility, and let these sweet babes of mine feed off the shine in their hopeful Mum’s eye.

Life is beautiful, and mine I will use to explore as I will.

macro photography of white coral
Photo by Egor Kamelev on Pexels.com

Categories
Poetry

Tonight

Tonight

I tear again.

The ache of a mother

remembering her ducklings, sweet.

It’s a long, long road to the deep end of a soul.

And some days ripple and crash

more than other days do.

The rain falls inside.

Tonight.

mother holding her baby
Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on Pexels.com

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 18. The Little Boy

Darling is the little boy that cannot sleep.

‘I think I need a bandaid, Mum. Mum? I think I need a bandaid.’

They start their tricks young, these beautiful tiny humans, don’t they.

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 10. Little Darling Ones

Dearest darling bunny ones

my hop-a-long divine,

this Mother’s heart will always beat

to find your hands in mine.

 

One life I share with you my dears,

one chance I have to say:

I’ll do my very best to be

my best in every way.

 

If not for me, then for you both,

I’ll fly into my shine,

and hope the twinkle raises you,

beyond each wish of mine.

 

So, happy day, my darlings two,

you’ve made my heart fly free,

and to your sleepy dreams, I’ll send

a loving kiss from me.

***

Happy Mother’s Day, my lovely bloggy friends.

To the Mothers. To the Daughters.

To the women who mother themselves SO beautifully, and share the way with the rest of us.

Thank you.

You are always enough. Even when you doubt your worth, you are ALWAYS just a step away from finding it again. Trust. The wind will take you there, I’m so sure.

xx

So much love,

Brooke.

(Yeah, yeah. All the mushy love hearts, you know what I’m like 😛 Whatevs. 😛 )

european-rabbits-bunnies-grass-wildlife.jpg
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Categories
Motherhood

Winter Is Coming

We’re heading into winter in Australia, and I’m feeling the resistance rising already.

I’ve come to dread winter for the internal obstacles it brings. Sunny days charge my batteries and fill my joy pots to a state of ‘just so’, and yet here comes winter to tear my joy pots apart once more.

The problem lies not only in the darkness that will inevitably replace the beautiful streams of sunlight that flood my lounge room, daily, but also the lack of choice that will come attached to the forthcoming rainy days. So, kids. I guess it’s a stay inside again, kind of day, today. That sort of thing.

My children are three and six years old. And I have been in training to be their Mum my whole life because, essentially, I’ve done it all before, being the much older sibling to my  two brothers and sister (now adults, where does time go? I’ll always be amazed.)

The thing is: winter makes me feel as though I might not be as wonderful at this ‘Mum thing’ as I always dreamed I’d be. Winter melts me into a bit of a tizz, to put it lightly, because the truth is: there are only so many hours of yes in my Mum tank to keep these little ones (and myself) happy in the face of a rainy day.

And so I’m really quite frightened at what’s to come. Especially this winter, now that I don’t have a partner in crime to lighten the load every second week when the children are with me.

The bright side of this admission is this— I am doing an excellent job at being human. I am seeing the reality of my limitations and admit that I just may need a little bit of extra help this time around.

I’m tired. I’m so tired of lying to myself, pretending that the things, situations, people, scenarios that I’m not entirely okay with…are all sunshine and rainbows. They are not. Dark clouds have existed since the beginning of time. They do not disappear simply because I insist upon looking to the sky and telling everyone around me that they are white.

I wish I wasn’t dreading winter. I wish I wasn’t sometimes afraid that I might break my children—the latter is something I am particularly scared of. My Mum was diagnosed with Bi-Polar disorder in my early teenage years, and I am still trying to pick up all the pieces of her broken within me.

I do know I will be okay, and I do know my beautiful babies will be okay, too. I am a beautiful Mother (if I don’t say so myself) and I don’t need a sunny day to tell me the love I bring to my babies’ lives is filling their spirits with all the lovely things.

Winter is the mountain that lay ahead of me. But this awareness is, at least, a good thing because it gives me time to gather my climbing tools and prepare for the climb. Life can be so hard, sometimes, but there has never been a day of it that has not been worth the struggle.

Because I am me, and I am Mum.

How beautiful to be able to hold those titles with such love, and pride, and grace.

photo of mother and child
Photo by Jennifer Murray on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Life

The Sweetest of All Knowings

I spend so many hours,

my sweet babes,

wishing I could lift for you.

If only I would remember

that the path of the butterfly

is never a straight one.

That there are dips and turns in life,

and times of complete stillness, too.

May this be a reminder.

That my love for you is the constant.

Precious and true

in high flight

and in low.

And that, my darlings,

is the sweetest of all knowings.

Categories
Life

Six

There is a little boy in this world who began his life within my body.

He turned six today.

I often think of the way his slippery little body looked as it squiggled into the world at my feet. Those are the times I go to his little mop of hair and whisper: I love you. My goodness, I love you, little man. 

Sometimes I hope that I don’t break him with my jagged edges; my angry moments, my sad moments, my imperfect human moments—the ones I can’t hide no matter how hard I try. And he is six, so I hear all about the moments.

But none of them really matter because: love.

Mine for him, his for me.

My baby.

He is six, today.

My baby blue-eyed boy is six.

close up of girl writing
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

Categories
Life

Into The Web

When the morning comes

she will spin into the web of it all,

and she will make the great adventure

across the weave of the day.