Perspective

I spent the entire night curled and cramped with Felix, in the single bed. Seriously uncomfortable sleep. The house has been messy and cluttered with damp clothes dangling everywhere, the result of rainy weather all week. I've felt every bit frumpy and hagged. This morning, I woke in a very bad frame of mind. Not at all how I like to start my day.

Throughout the moody teen years, my parents would often tell me to watch the news and more specifically, world news, if I thought my life was tough. And although it aggravated me in the way that anything parents say aggravate a teenager, it is certainly a notion that has stuck with me. When I hear about a mother of three having her life abruptly taken away, by a man she loved (or once loved) enough to marry. Leaving behind her babies. The horror of a tragedy like this is gut-wrenching. And it's only one of many nasty realities in the news this week. It rattles me to the core, opens my eyes, puts my tiny woes into perspective.


Scott is one of the most rational people I know. Whilst I don't often admit this fact to him, he is the voice of reason in practically every emotional upheaval I go through. Like myself, he finds the parenting gig a tricky one to negotiate. He gets frustrated, cranky, feels helpless at times and challenged by the constantly evolving nature of it all. But I keep coming back to something he said to me many moons ago, when Angus was a babe. That the only thing harder than raising children, would be to not have children to raise at all. And he is absolutely right. On days like this one, his words are never more relevant. They're my perspective... and there is nothing more important than having a little bit of that.

Darling sweet boy, watching Nana feed the birds... and napping on my old bed, in my old room. Moments that made a difficult day worthwhile.