She’s already someone

Isn’t it odd, that someone can be so little, yet she’s already shaping into a person of her own? I mean, she’s my fourth, I should be used to this by now, but it still amazes me!

Like the fact that she will lie outside in her pram and just look up at the trees. We pick her up, and her eyes will search for the green leaves she used to have hanging over her. Like her own, natural mobile. Trees, in her opinion, are amazing. I can’t wait to take her for proper walks through the forest so she can explore all the trees by herself.

Then, she loves her dogs. A few of her toys are dogs – for no reason, and it was certainly not planned. But the dogs are kinda her favourites. Weirdly, to a small child, it is just colourful things, but the rest of us can see they’re dogs. And she loves them! Along with her sloth:) She’s my child in that way!

And she has this intense look. As if she’s checking you or something out. Half-squinting and half-pouting. Like a grandmother figuring out whether she likes her grandchilds’ new haircut. Or as if you just said something odd and she’s trying to decide whether she is angry or impressed. Like she is silently judging, but perhaps you deserved it?

All of my kids have been incredible sleepers, but this one takes the cake. She will definitely sleep anywhere, on anything, to any noise. I mean, she does love her blankelet cozied up next to her face for that ultimate, all night long sleep, but any other time, she will just close her eyes. Remarkable. The others needed at least some stimulation at this point in their lives. We are lucky!

She hugs! Most of the time, we’ll hold her, and her back is arched and torso twisted around so she can see as much as baby-ly possible – she doesn’t want to miss a thing. But then she can turn around and just give us a hug. Particularly after a bottle – still wide awake, so it’s not a cuddle-before-bed thing, and she will just give one – as if it’s a thank you hug❤️

l our kids have had weird nicknames since they were little, without much meaning. Aria is now Tink, as of this year. She thinks so much, we reckon, so but think is too 'much word' to bea name – Tink is just right:)

Weirdly enough I can also go on forever about her now, who knew there'd be so much material when she's only been around for a split second??

I love her though, keep giving me this, Tink😘




Thoughtful Tuesday: My kids WILL scratch.

A few weeks ago I took Sophia to see a doctor because she’d been having this cough for ages, as had I.
Anyone who has spent some time with her, or heard me talk about her in the last three and a half year knows she is an active child. And by that I mean she climbs trees, jumps up and down from rocks, rides her bike and splashes in puddles. She slides across the floor, dances and sings, runs and skips, scales any climbing obstacle and swings like a monkey to get extra speed down the slides. She loves action, and we’ve never really stopped her fun times. Also, she has never really hurt herself. No broken bones, not even a fracture. No open wounds and no cuts that needed attending. In fact, I am unsure if she’s ever really been to the doctor before? Of the three, she’s the only one who’s not been taken to the ER ever, and we have mentioned this many times while touching all the wood at the same time. She just loves being active, and although this means her being high and low all the time – she’s been uninjured so far.
She does, however, have scratches. Her legs have bruises from running into this thing and that thing, her thighs have scratches from falling here and sliding down there. Her fingers have been bitten by bugs and crushed by rocks and her hair has tangled from playing in a bush and jumping on the trampoline. It is what she does – she is busy being a child, and we let her.

Just imagine this though, we take her to the doctor for a cough, and I left feeling as if I had been accused of being violent towards my child. Sophia was wearing a skirt on this day, and sandals. She sits down on the chair doing exactly what the lady asked her to do. This was a new doctor we hadn’t seen before, but she seemed nice enough. Until she asked me:
“I can see she has a lot of bruises?”
“Yes, I mean, she does a lot of playing, and you know, that happens.”
“Do you do lots of playing? Climb trees and stuff?” she asks Sophia.
She doesn’t answer immediately, not really sure what this question is. So I add:
“Trees, trampolines, rocks, bikes – you know, she loves playing with everything this little one.”
The doctor didn’t even look at me, but continues:
“Hmm… It’s not a good look, is it. All these bruises I mean. It could come from lots of things.”
At this point I am sitting there, slightly shocked, not really sure what to say about this suggestive statement. The doctor goes on, still talking to Sophia:
“You need to stop climbing trees okay? Don’t play so rough, okay? You need to be careful when you’re playing and maybe not ride your bike so much, huh?”

My poor little girl nods her head, confused as anything.

“It doesn’t look good having all those bruises, people might think that you’ve been hurt by someone.”

I take Sophia and leave, not really feeling like I understood what was going on, not until I came home and told Simon about what had happened.

And then I got angry.

Not because I was low-key accused of causing her bruises. Not because she was talking to Sophia and ignored me, her mother. Not even because she asked about them in the first place.

BUT because she had the audacity to tell MY child, my whirlwind of a child to NOT climb trees anymore? Because she told her NOT to ride her bike, and to be ‘careful’ when playing and not playing so rough?? HOW DARE SHE? How dare she, a medical professional, try to impact and change the way my daughter plays. Where does she get the right to tell her that playing rough will cause bruises WHICH DON’T LOOK GOOD! I, as her mother, and Simon, as her father have absolutely ZERO care when it comes to how she looks. She is four, and she is not going to start caring about her own body image now.

She is not going to worry about other people looking at her body and getting ‘ideas.’ She should look at those bruises, think “Oups!” and carry on playing. She should band-aid that scratch and get back on that bike. She should walk around barefoot and stub her toe and roll down hills getting grass stains on her knees. In no circumstance should anyone, let alone a stranger, Doctor or no Doctor, tell her NOT to do those things as she could get ‘unsightly’ marks on her.

I mean, Yes, How dare she insinuate that we would hurt her? I get that she has a duty of care towards her patients, but if she actually thought so, is that not jumping the gun a little? Because of some bruises on her legs? Shouldn’t she have checked out the rest of her body? Shouldn’t she have sent me out of the room and talked to Sophia alone? Should she not have contacted the authorities and started an investigation? At least maybe called us back a while after to check again?

I do not, never have and never will condone any kind of violence against children. Not in any shape or form – and those who know me know this.

I will also never tell my children to stop playing the way they play. Of course, I supervise them and do tell them to get down or stop doing something if there’s a high chance of them hurting themselves, but mostly – I let them play and have fun! Miraculously, they very often know their own limits – and because we let them, they have balance, skills and instinct that help them. They scratch their elbows and skin their knees – but nothing worse than what a band-aid and a kiss can’t fix. And hell if I’m going to stop letting them enjoy themselves. If that means being accused of hurting them, then so be it.

Because they are MY kids, and I am in charge.

And don’t you dare tell them to stop doing what they love.


Thoughtful Tuesday. Poetry night.

Little did I know.


Little did I know there were going to be days of loneliness.

Did I know I would sit there alone?

I know I should not worry.

Know more now.


Little did I know I would feel the angst come rushing through.

Did I know it would feel this bad?

I know my heart is filled with love.

Know more now.


Little did I know that I’d feel beaten and broken and unworthy.

Did I know that I’d care this much?

I know I’ll always forgive.

Know more now.


Little did I know that there would be the words that lift my spirits again.

Did I know those people love me?

I know my love will always remain.

Know more now.




I may not understand, but I love you.

We are all facing challenges every day. For some people we struggle not to reach for the bottle. Other times we fight with ourselves to even get out of bed. Sometimes it’s so damn hard not to lose it and scream at the top of our lungs – and other days we just want to sit down and cry. Some of us struggle with food – too much, too little – and some of us can never seem to relax.

And some of us are lucky not to have a mental disorder that gives us grief every minute of the day – but still struggle with things others may not. We all have our battles and we all have our insecurities.

Many of us are suffering in silence. Many never dare telling anyone about what goes on inside their minds and their body. Few are open and honest – and when we are, we’re often met with misjudgment and misunderstandings, not to mention belittling.

When opening up about our fears and the thoughts that keep running through our minds, whether serious or seemingly harmless, we are often met with the “Get over it”-mindset. People often use the “Cheer up!” line or the “It could be worse, at least it’s just in your mind” – mixed with “Oh, I have that all the time, it sucks, hey?” The others just don’t get it – how it can be crippling and take over everything at once.

You don’t need to get it. You don’t need to feel it. You don’t need a clever line to ‘make it okay.’

To my dear ones, my close ones – to you:

I may not understand it – but I love you.

I may not have any advice – but I’ll hug you.

I may not know the right words to say – but I’ll listen.

I might need you to teach me – but I promise I’ll learn.

I probably will never fully get it – But I will never give up on you.


I may not understand it – but I love you.



Thoughtful Tuesday – Let THEM be in charge!

I am very much guilty of this very thing that I am about to talk about. But I have decided it needs to stop.

As a child, growing up, can you remember how adults who were a part of your life in a big or a miniscule way just HAD to give you kisses or cuddles whenever they saw you? I can remember, and we Norwegians aren’t the cuddliest of people. I can remember older people, aunties and uncles wanting that big hug and sometimes a sloppy kiss, too. My brother mostly got away with a handshake, although he got his share of the affection as well.

My girls are very affectionate. They kiss each other, they kiss the dog, and they kiss their dad and I. They kiss us goodnight, good morning, goodbye and hello. In public and in private. I ask them for kisses, and when they say ‘No’ – I grab one anyway. And I need to stop.

Not long ago, I read an article about this very subject. We need to teach girls and boys how to take charge of their bodies. To teach them that a No means No. It does not mean ‘No, but I’ll do it because it will make you happy.’ It does not mean ‘No, but please, force your kiss on me anyway.’ We need to teach them that their voice matters, that them taking a stand actually means something. Even when it is 3-year-old Sophia declining a request for a kiss because she is being silly or Ricky says No because she has just learnt that saying No makes us laugh. It is our responsibility to teach them to respect their own bodies.

You may say that this is a bit ‘extreme.’ Or that ‘they are just kids’ – but you would never ask an adult for a kiss, then proceed to do it anyway after they’ve turned you down? That’s sexual harassment. Of course, kissing my little ones has nothing to do with sexuality at all, but one day they are going to be teenagers – young ladies who very much need to know that they are in charge of their own bodies, and it all starts with letting them be in charge of who gets to do what to them.

Most cases of child abuse happens with someone known to the child. If that person has always been allowed to kiss, hug and touch the child, then one day when they try to take it a step further, it can very much be used against the child in the form of “You let me kiss you, now let me do this” – and similar. If the child has been allowed to say their No, it may be harder for the adult to abuse that child.

I need my girls to know they are in charge. The oldest ones are already trained in doing most of their own washing, and we regularly talk about who would be allowed to touch and see them in the nude. Melodie knows what the rules are, and Sophia is catching on. There is a fine line between creating a body issue and body awareness.

I have made some ‘rules’ in regards to how to approach this issue:

  • Obviously, if they are sitting with you in an affectionate way, kissing their head and generally cuddling them is something they always enjoy. We don’t have to stop doing the spontaneous signs of affection. Unless, of course, they try to get away, but you’d notice that!
  • All of them would mostly soften up rather quickly, and be happy to hand out cuddles, but when you first see them, they may not. If your offer of a hug or a kiss is refused, don’t tell them that it makes you sad. Or that it hurt your feelings. I don’t want my kids to feel responsible for your happiness, and guilting them into kissing you is not okay.
  • Accept a No as what it is. It is simply an “I don’t feel like kissing you right now, try again later.” It is not an “I hate you, go away forever.” If they say no to a kiss, ask for a cuddle. If that’s not okay for them, offer a high-five or a hand-shake. They generally love that.
  • Please, don’t try to ‘buy’ kisses. Don’t offer them something in return for a kiss. It is a bad habit for them to think that showing affection will or should give them something.
  • One kiss does not mean there is now an unlimited amount for you. Take what you get. If that means a kissing competition between Ricky and Sophia (as we often have here) and that floats your boat, you’re lucky. If that means that Melodie tells you to kiss her head, then be happy. Sometimes that’s all her dad gets, too.
  • Don’t let them kiss you if YOU don’t want to either. They need to learn that it goes both ways. I have, sometimes, declined their kiss and downgraded it to a cuddle instead.
  • And yes, this goes for everyone – whether you’re grandmother, auntie or the neighbour down the street.

You may read this and think I am a bit hysterical, and if you do, so be it. In most parts of motherhood and raising children I take things as they come, very relaxed, and I am not at all caught up in the political correctness and hysteria some mums are, but this one thing is important to me. So there 🙂



Thoughtful Tuesday – RANT

Gaaaaah, sometimes I just don’t understand what people are thinking with.

Today was the second time in as many weeks someone came knocking on our door wanting my money for their charity. Fair enough, I understand they want money, but I am slightly (read quite) annoyed.

1. DO NOT KNOCK THE DOOR DOWN between 11-2. We have several prams displayed out the front of the house, that five second look around will tell you everything there is to know about out family, including the fact we have little ones, which will likely be sleeping during this time. If you use your sledgehammer to knock on the door, they WILL wake up. And I will hate you.

2. If you have woken up the kids, I am not going to talk to you. I will tell you, sincerely, that I don’t have time. Because if I talk to you, they may run away, or empty the fridge. So sorry, not sorry. Take my coins and leave, but I won’t sign up.

3. If I tell you they are sleeping in the room right next to where you are standing, what I am actually trying to say it STFU or keep it down to barely speaking. Also, keep in mind that if I am wasting my precious minutes of kids sleep time talking with you, it means less time for me to do the housework, drink my coffee or SLEEP. So BE NICE.

4. If you have succeeded in not waking them up, I may talk to you, but INTRODUCE YOURSELVES! I am not going to hand over my credit card details to anyone coming to my door unless they actually tell me who they are working for. It doesn’t matter what kind of statistics you throw in my face and pictures of starving children you make me look at, I care, I do, but I still have to be critical. A logo on a t-shirt is not enough. Tell me who your boss is goddammit!

5. I do not like the way the charities are doing it these days, honestly. I know they do lots of good work, but the way they want me to just throw my credit card details in their face, to plot in onto their fancy iPads (which could probably pay for a few months of food for the thrid-world’s children) gives me shivers down my spine. And no, I will not go and get my bank statement for you to get my bank details. It ain’t happening. Show me the tin for me to put my money in, and I will gladly chuck in whatever I have in the house, or tell me how I can give you a once-off donation, but no, no details from me.

6. WHY ARE THERE NO BROCHURES? If I am not willing to commit on the spot, you should have some kind of information I can take with me back to my (now cold) lunch and read, so I can be even more informed. “Well, I am the walking brochure” sounds great in theory, but I actually like to make decisions after having dwelled on them for more than 20 seconds.

and lastly:

7. If I do NOT give you my details, for whatever reason you will accept before I tell you to get stuffed, don’t walk away like a brat. I understand this is your job, and I probably don’t have anything against you personally, I just don’t like this way of operating. AND my coffee is getting cold, goddammitt. Now, if you only had a brochure…

I think I need to make a do-not-disturb sign…. Back to reheating my coffee! Again…


Thoughtful Tuesday – Choosing a Gender

It is Tuesday, and I figured it’s been a while since I have posted my thoughts on a topic, and today I’ve read many articles regarding gender selection when having a baby.

Obviously, there are sometimes medical reasons why some people choose to go through that process. Obviously, that is nothing I will weigh in on. For obvious reasons. And if those reasons are not OBVIOUS to you, well… I will not explain, sorry.

I’d like to talk about those people who, for no health reason, travel to clinics, possibly far, far away and spends thousands of dollars to be able to (quite possibly) have either a boy or a girl – the gender they have chosen, through IVF. I don’t know if these people have to fulfill some kind of criteria – or if anyone can do it.

I have read many, many, MANY peoples (mostly women) opinion on the matter. And so many of them are negative towards these people who have made this choice.

The thing is, it does not matter what other people do. We need to stop judging these people up and down and east and west for something we can not understand. We need to say “Okay, I understand that this is what YOU want for yourself, however it is not for me.” If my neighbour decides to choose if they are having a boy or a girl, it doesn’t affect me, you see. Not at all.

Yes, a child is a blessing, and we should all be thankful for having healthy, happy children, but is a mother and fathers yearning for a little girl to tuck in at night and a little boy to stare into their eyes as they fall asleep not important? I think it is. We, as people in the society we live in today, are very privileged. I know of people who had several children, all the one sex, and will happily admit that although they love all their babies, they felt like maybe there was something missing. Should people be ashamed of themselves for having those kind of feelings? Absolutely not. We are human. We feel.

I feel like my opinion on this actually matter as well. I have three girls. Together we have four. It would be a complete lie if we said that not a single part of us wants a boy. OF COURSE we do. However, we don’t “fork out $50 grand and a trip to the US to have it done artificially” want a boy. We don’t have that yearning. But we very well could have. We are lucky not to. If we have another baby, and it turns out to be another girl, I will be thrilled! There would probably be a part of me that would be disappointed as well. Not that it’s a girl, but that it is NOT a boy. And that girl would be loved as much as any boy would have. And she would have been cherished by her big sisters as much as a little man would have. And she would finish off our family, just the way it was intended – for us!

An argument I have read over and over, is that we shouldn’t mess with nature. We shouldn’t play God. And what is meant to be, will be. But why can we not help create our own destiny? Why can we not choose the path that will make us the happiest? If we have the chance, why can we not try to close the gaps that are hindering our ultimate happiness from flourishing?

If we had a clinic down the street, who offered this very same service at a price we could afford, I can’t honestly say I would say no to it. I still don’t think I would, but hey, we will never know.

Let’s let people choose their own path and create the family that will make them feel complete. We need to stop judging.



Tolerance and Acceptance

I spend a lot of time talking with my children about things that are important to me. I want them to be important to them as well, things such as tolerance, acceptance and equality. Melodie and I have often spoken about relationships between people. She knows that the most important thing is to find someone you love and care for – and if you want to get married, then you should. I tell her there are no rules as to who you can marry. We have never said she needs to find herself a boyfriend, only to add the “But it’s okay if you get a girlfriend!” We have always said that what matters most is that there’s a whole lot of love and plenty of fun to be had with whoever she chooses. And that is truly all I want for thedm. We may end up with three girls with a girlfriend each, or a boyfriend each – or maybe there will be a mixture of the two. We don’t know – but I certainly won’t be either disappointed or happier about any of those options – as long as they are all treated right.

The same way we speak about equality in peoples relationships, we also speak about people and disabilities. I am no expert, and certainly no child psychologist, but I believe the only way to teach tolerance and acceptance is to openly discuss things that may be seen as different for a child. Mel has her own ‘disability’ which makes for a good gateway towards talking about things that are different with other people. We talk about disabilities we can’t see and those we can. Even such a simple thing as someone wearing glasses is seen as different to her – because none of us do. We talk about not mocking or laughing at people being different, about being a friend to someone who may not make friends as easily. I also think it is important that she is not afraid to ask questions if she sees someone or something being different as I truly think most people are happy to share rather than being misjudged or prejudiced. I know I am more than happy to answer questions about diabetes (or anything else, for that matter) as I know that helps clear things up for people who may not know as much about it.

Then there is racism. Nobody is born racist. Children do not see skin colour, they read faces and voices and smiles and actions. They are colour-blind when it comes to people. It is our responsibility as parents to ensure it stays this way. Melodie and I were once in a shopping mall and went to one of those family rooms, and when she came in, there was a big Samoan man changing his baby girl. I had dreaded this day, where she would say something about someone else’s skin colour. But there she was, watching this big man with dark skin: “Mum, that man has brown skin.” I am totally mortified. You just never know if the target will be offended or if they see it for what it is, an innocent child with no harm intended. Luckily, this was one that was not. He smiled at me, and I answered her, cautiously: “Yes, he does, and look at the cute baby he has.” Trying to steer her in a different direction. “Oh, it’s so cute,” she answers, “and she has brown skin, too, so he must be her dad!” Again, the man looked up and smiled at her, disarmingly, reassuring me that he didn’t think my three-year old was a racist. It was then I realized we hadn’t really spoken about differences in skin colour and what it actually means, but since then we have done so many times. Now Melodie will notice skin colour the same way she will notice the colour of someone’s shirt – as something that doesn’t really matter.

The issue is, though, that we do live sheltered lives sometimes. The majority of the people around me are heterosexual. I do have friends that are gay, but we rarely see them, and even if we did, she would hardly know the difference unless I specifically told her. Also, most people in our lives are white – not for any reason – we mostly hang with family, so naturally we all look similar in that way. The area we lived in in NSW was also one filled with people of mostly European descent.

What are we supposed to do to even this out? Should I bring them to Mardi Gras to expose them to the gay community? “Look, there’s two boys kissing, IT’S NORMAL!!!” “Look at those two girls touching each other – THEY ARE ALLOWED TO.” Should I invite gay friends over for dinner and encourage them to show each other affection so my little ones can watch? No. Of course not.

Are we supposed to join a tribe? Infiltrate a community of people with different skin colours and facial characteristics? Pretend like we are something we are not, for the purpose of teaching the children about diversity and tolerance? I think not.

I think I have found my way of doing it – and it has worked so far. We discuss it. We are open. We know there are differences in people, and that that is what makes everyone unique. We also know about the things that are the same, which are the things that matters the most – like a persons feelings and being good to each other.

While watching the Eurovision show, Melodie saw Conchita, the lady who won last year.

“Wow, she said. A beautiful lady in a beautiful dress. And she has a beard, like daddy. That’s funny. She sings beautiful.” She saw her exactly the way she should see her. Someone singing beautifully, with a beautiful dress on. She just happened to have a beard.


Thoughtful Tuesday: Did you always want to be a mother?

Mothers day has come and gone and it was a lovely day for us. I love my children more than anything and more than I thought possible. I can not imagine life without them!

A few months ago I was asked this question, and it has since made me think. Did I always want to be a mum?

The question was asked by someone who were unfortunate and never ended up having children. She is a beautiful lady and although she wanted a child and tried – it just wasn’t meant to be for them.

The very short answer is No. I was never the one that fantasized about my little girls and boys and what their names would be, how they’d look and what they would be like. I never saw myself as a mother at all. Not because I figured I never wanted children at all, but I was just to young to see myself as anything in the future. If you asked me ten years ago where I’d be now, married with three children would probably not even be on the list of possibilities. I always just figured I might end up meeting someone at the age of thirty and then maybe children would come after that.

I had friends that did, though. They would talk about kids in the future, the amount of kids they wanted, whether they wanted boys or girls – how they’d set up the baby’s room and other things. I just was never ‘there.’

There is not a day that goes by where I look at my children without appreciating them and thinking ‘How did I end up so lucky? Why am I so blessed? What did I do to deserve such perfection? ‘

I have an adoring husband who is the greatest dad to his girls, he loves them more than you could ever imagine and he just enjoys spending time with them every day. We often watch our children sleep at night, and we feel the love for them and each other grow as we listen to their sleep noises. I know that I have got something many people don’t get to have, and I wouldn’t want to be without.

Although I never pictured this life, I cannot possibly picture how it would be if I didn’t have this – and I am so thankful it ended up this way. Did I always want to be a mother? No. Do I ever want to stop? Oh, never.

When did you know you wanted to be a mum? (Or dad?)



Thoughtful Tuesday: Everything has changed (and 100!!!)

Wow. So this is my blog entry number 100.Since July 12 2014, when I my first post went live. That is 179 days, which equates to one blog entry every 43 hours. I like it!

Anywho, since today is also tuesday, I figured my blog today could mean more than just the average blog entry, I want to write about something really close to my heart. About losing friends.


(stolen from the internet, somewhere)

When I first moved to Australia, after Melodie was born, I had one fear. And it is a fear that I am always wary of. But I am slowly getting more confident and realising that this one fear of mine may not be that bad. It might not need to exist at all. My fear could be completely irrational!

The fear of losing my friends.

After years in school, with what I would call many friends, but not necessarily close friends, I found myself graduating with a few handfuls of friends I ‘knew’ I would have forever. I knew that these would be the people I wanted to hang with when I was older, when we had kids, when our partners annoyed us, when the housework got to much and when our jobs drove us insane. These were also the people I wanted laugh with, create memories with and waste time with. I’d want to tell them about my dreamy boyfriends and the impossibly difficult break-ups. These were the people I wanted to talk to about all the nothingness life beholds at nineteen and try to solve lifes biggest crises, eventually. The people I had no problem pouring out my heart and soul to, and the ones whom I would never stop listening to.

In other words – MY people.

After finishing school, all the other people slowly drifted away, but MINE were still in my life. I would still greet the others, say hello and have a genuine interest in their lives, but they will probably never be MINE. They will never be the once I move mountains to see and whom I pester for days to visit me when I know they are mere minutes away. But MINE. I will pester MINE.

So, my fear.

When I moved away, I hoped, more than anything, that nothing would change. That even though we would all grow and have experiences we could not all share, and even though our lives may take different paths, once I returned home to my beautiful hometown, nothing would have changed. Oh, how I feared my hopeful heart was going to be wrong.

Sometimes it would take a year, maybe more, maybe less, before I spoke to my friends again. Why, you may ask? Well, I have no real answer, I suppose life just happens. You move houses, have babies, do the shopping, cook dinner, and whenever you remember things such as ‘I should really give that one a text and see how they’re going’, it’s in the middle of the night or as you enter your pin at the shops or at a really long red light. Or you may not even think about it. Nothing new to talk about, really, nothing important at least, I think to myself. So I don’t bother.

In the end, I end up feeling really bad for not staying in touch more. About not knowing about a holiday they’ve been to or that they had a really bad flu last month. I forget to wish them ‘good luck’ on their exams and thesises because, frankly, I don’t know when they are!

And so my fear arises. On my airplane back home, my hopeful heart had sunk, telling me: ‘What if you’ve screwed up?’
And what if I had? They all expressed enthusiasm about our homecoming, but what if it was all going to be just… weird?


And it hasn’t been, at all! MY friends, my absolutely beautiful bunch of friends are still loving me, still excited to see me, and I STILL LOVE THEM SO! Nothing has changed! I mean, minor things and big things, like where people live, people having babies and such things change, but the relationships between us are the same. I can still sit up way past my bed time talking about nothingness and importantness. I can still meet up with friends for a girls night in and just, talk. Partying with my girls is the same now as it was then, slightly more mature and slightly less drunken nights, but still – the same!

We change apart but come together as a whole, which is so wonderfully beautiful for me to see. After three and a half years of not seeing their faces – I have loved spending time with them again. And this time I can fly back home with much less of a fear that things will change… Because it probably won’t..:)

To all the people I have met while being here, which is a big, big bunch! And some of you I have spoken to more than others, and some I may not have spoken to at all. I feel very welcome and home in this town and you all help make that happen. Some of you I wish I could’ve seen more, and some I know I’ll see more. Thank you for being in my life. It fills my heart more than you could ever imagine. Thank you.

I know not to take my friends for granted, but I believe if it is truly meant to be, it will be – with partners AND friends. And if they love you, they’ll never let you go.


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(PS. If you are an australian friend or someone from My travels reading this, know this also applies to you. I am really bad at staying in touch, but so many of you are and have been very important to you and I don’t want to let go. So much love.)


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Thoughtful Tuesday: What do our children want?

Being a parent – you end up with so many challenges, more than you ever expected.

The fact that I, or we, have to make so many choices for our little ones – who don’t yet know what they want – is absurd! I mean, we have to, obviously, but it is terrifying.

We have to choose what food they eat, the religion they will be brought up in, what kind of school to go to, how and where to socialize, their friends and pretty much their outlook on life. To start off with anyway. The choices that we make for ourselves can sometimes be hard enough, not to mention making them for someone else. Someone small, who trusts us with everything they are and with everything they do. They must. There is no choice for them – as they can’t make the decisions themselves. Of course, we can ask for their opinions about certain things, but in most cases they don’t have the ability to make informed choices.

How am I to know that the choices I have made and continue to make will be the right for them? That they will end up being good ones? What if it all backfires, and they come back as adults saying: “I wish I/we/you did not do that.” Or “If only you didn’t make me do that.” What if they come back and tells me they hated it? That they wished things were done differently?

How am I to know what is right? And how am I to know the right way to go?

I can only try, I guess. We can only do our best – and try to keep our children’s best interest at heart in what we do. What do our children want? And we won’t know until they are adults anyway, will we.

What responsibility!