Scratch that.

That last post?

Yep, just imagine you never saw it. Or, for a more cathartic result, mentally scrunch it up into a ball, crush it all rough-like, and then throw it as far as you can out into the middle of the lake.
But then imagine it’s made out of bread or something so the fishies have some benefit from it. Cause I’m so not into litter. And maybe chuck a heap of rocks in after it, break it up a bit and make sure it really does sink, taking your optimism and positivity and belief that you were in fact in control of your own life and sending it thudding to the bottom. Never to be revisited. (Maybe not never but I’m prone to overdramatisation, and I’m pretty gutted right now.)

Fuckin’.

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forward momentum

Or propulsion. Or hurtling helter-skelter into the unknown.
I don’t even know why there’s a premise for planning out ones life. Because I do not know of one single occasion when things have turned out the way I intended.

As such, I’m about to embark on a journey for which I have no map (not that I ever had one, but, you know,  metaphors.): single parenting.

We decided leafys papa would go to his dream job and I’d stay here so I can get an education. Maybe we’ll save some money, maybe we’ll decide being apart is rubbish, maybe it’ll be great, maybe I’ll be well, maybe leafy will suffer, maybe I haven’t got a clue.

I’m ridiculously grateful for the kindred spirit I’ve found in my 71 year old psychologist, not the least because she’s got me a little less frantic about the unknown future over which I have no control thus rendering the incessant ‘what if’s’ null and void. But I’m relieved to not be going – I believe that’s the best option for me right now. I’m glad leafys papa has the opportunity – he deserves it.

BUT.

ARE WE MAKING ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS HERE?

I dunno, but I guess I’m okay with the only option being give-it-a-crack-and-hope-for-the-best.

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never a dull moment.

Just when I think things are settling down and I can get all my ducks in a row, life throws another curve ball.

I encouraged leafys papa to enquire about a job that he’s always wanted that suddenly became available.
It’s 3,000+km away.
I guess I didn’t think anything would come of it. Or maybe I did, honestly I don’t know why I pushed him to do it.

Long story short he has the job, the money is ridiculously good, and they want us up there asap.
I’ve pro’d and con’d the hell out of the situation, and it makes the most sense to just go.

But in my heart… I’m just getting well! I think family is THE MOST important thing, and taking e away from her uncles and grandparents breaks my heart. I’ve been in tears thinking about it in previous discussions. We’re getting involved in things. I’m about to start uni again and I’m excited. My new psychologist is brilliant.

But leafys papa wants the money. He says the lifestyle (but he’s basing this on a single smoking drinking hospitality worker with no commitments or responsibilities), the weather, the dream job. He thinks I’ll be happier.

But when I left there last time I was ready to leave.

I don’t especially love this place, but I love my family. And I love what I can give leafy here. I can get an excellent education with free babysitters available at a whim.

I can’t tell him no.
But I don’t know if I can go.
Woe is me.
(That was a little haiku for your pitying pleasure)

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babies and puppies and rainbows and candy and sunshine

Yesterday was Leafs birthday, and ill post about it soon but I’m still kind of processing and denying.

In the mean time this one year old caper has produced a different baby. She’s independent and happy and sharp as a tack.
We also had nala the monster pup desexed last week, and she’s only just back to her usual incorrigible self yesterday.

But today for the first time I saw the benefits in getting nala.
She was a birthday gift for the papa, mainly because the perfect mix breed popped up and we couldn’t not get her, when originally we planned to get a puppy for Es first birthday.

I let the dog in and she did her usual sweep to make sure everything was tip top and Bristol fashion (read: sniffs out everywhere in the house leafys been that morning and cleans up the crumbs left behind). She’s currently drinking milk out of leafys sippy cup that she’s strategically flipped over and tilted so it trickles out onto her tongue. Did I mention she’s 50% border collie and grossly intelligent?

Im doing the usual morning crochet and I realise they’ve been quiet for ages.

I look over to the window and lounging in the morning rays is nala, chewing a bone with one leg draped over e, while she lays back over the dogs belly, playing with her tail, bumping her head against the window and pulling wipes out of the nappy basket.

They played together for at least an hour.

It’s exactly what I wanted but I just cannot believe it.
They fight over a toy for a couple of seconds but it’s not real fighting. One gets bored and gives up. One gets things the other can’t reach and shares. They follow each other around.

To be honest there’s not a whole lot of point of depth to this post; I’m just surprised and happy.
And that’s nice.

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