Confrontation is hard … but it is the quality of the ‘repair process’ that really matters

Confrontation is hard … but it is the quality of the ‘repair process’ that really matters

Last night we had a bust up in our kitchen.  As I was putting a younger child to bed, I could hear our adolescent children arguing over whose turn it was to wash up.  

They are older now, the voices are louder and more powerful.  

Arguing can be both frightening and exhausting to be around.

For me, arguing triggers me back to my childhood.  

In my childhood experience, my father often argued, particularly when someone disagreed with him.

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Mothers teach us how to be ...

Mothers teach us how to be ...

Thinking of the generations of mothers... past, present and future... on this mother's day ....

buttered toast and clothes warmed by the fire on a winter’s morning

the pain of adolescence felt

the posy of flowers at my bedside as I nurse a broken heart

long distance phone calls to share news of adventures

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The richness of life...and leaving the washing for another day!

The richness of life...and leaving the washing for another day!

As a working mother, there are frequently moments when I feel stretched.  Whilst I have the privilege of running my own business and within that dictating my own hours, life doesn’t always go to plan. 

The question I often sit with is…”how do I make all of this work and still feel whole?” And at the end of the day, I am struck by it all coming down to the quality of the moments throughout the busyness of life. 

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Growing through anxiety ....

Growing through anxiety ....

This morning I received a text ...“Mum, I have my first pimple, I am growing up!”.

Now let me put this in context, this text is from our youngest child, who is at that moment is upstairs, in her bedroom, and it is 7am!

I bound upstairs, and I am invited to inspect the blemish on her cheek – no it does not appear to be a mosquito bite, nor an allergy spot, yes I confirm it does appear to be a full blown pimple.  

With delight, our child proudly confides that this is truly evidence of her development.

I share in her excitement, as I look about her room filled with soft toys and pink…and I note for a moment, I am able to sit with both the joy and grief of motherhood... 

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Success … facing up to life and developing resilience …

Success … facing up to life and developing resilience …

“Exam time”…. it may feel like a long way off, but how you think about it, may influence how you navigate the year…

At the end of last year, as I was driving the kids to school, the fluid happy banter and bickering, was not there.  Instead of the usual silliness that made each other laugh, the air was pricked with anxiety. 

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The beginning of the school year…whose anxiety is it really?

The beginning of the school year…whose anxiety is it really?

It is the day before school starts and, I find myself up late sewing on the last of the name tags to the children’s school uniform.  As I struggle to thread the needle once again, I wonder to myself  “what am I really doing here?”…  There is something about the quality of the sewing, the need to sew a tag on every item of clothing, with such care and urgency, that makes me wonder.  As I tune into this wondering and sense into my body, I recall sitting alone on my bedroom floor as an adolescent, sewing name tags on to my own clothes before heading off to boarding school.  The excitement quickly drowned out by a sense of overwhelming dread.

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Sand - the gift of summer

Sand - the gift of summer

There is something so perfect about time on the beach

The sand in its capacity to enter every nook and crevice

Between my toes, up my togs and despite my efforts through too many pages of my book

Sand demands I stay present

Present to my experience

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Nurturing courage in children

Nurturing courage in children

When my son was four years old, I would give him a $5 dollar note and send him to the little corner store about 10 houses up from our place. Pulling a rusty red wagon behind him, he’d head off up our road to buy a couple of cartons of milk, feeling like he was Buzz Lightyear on a very important mission.

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