Thank You Marshall

Four weeks ago I reluctantly entered the blogosphere to help hone my writing skills.  Like the bio says “to practice big words and perfect bad grammar.”  I’ve cringed at the self-indulgence of blogging and swore myself I wouldn’t do the same.  Trouble.  Seems blogging is a little more addictive than anticipated and I spend my week constructing blogs in my mind and wondering if my hilarious antidote about my crazy neighbours would make a good read.  This week I had planned to cram as many big words as I could into my blog in an attempt to “get serious” and stop banging on about myself.  But then this afternoon I experienced 5 minutes and 46 seconds of pure clarity that I just can’t contain.

I ran this afternoon.  And with my I-Pod loaded with new songs I felt amazing. Then my favourite, all-time favourite running song came on – Lose Yourself by Eminem. 

If you had one shot, or one opportunity
to seize everything you ever wanted, one moment
Would you capture it?
Or just let it slip.
Yo

Marshall Mathers AKA Eminem

As I ran in time to the beat and the F-Bombs I felt unstoppable.   I really could do anything I set my mind to, thank you Eminem, and yo to you to.   Body and mind as one, I felt strong, fit and confident.  

How amazing is the power of music.  Whether it’s the Rocky anthem or my other favourite running song, Christina Aguilera “Candyman” (don’t laugh, it’s got a great beat!) I’m sure everyone has THAT song that makes them feel great and can pick them up from the darkest of places. 

What’s the song that makes YOUR heart sing? 

Peace out.

PS – Almost forgot my Big Word.  And as I’ve strayed from format this week I’ve included the biggest word according to Guinness 1992 – Floccinaucinihilipilification.
“My inclusion of this post script at the end of the blog is a complete floccinaucinihilipilification.”

The REAL 7 Signs of Aging

So it turns out I’m getting old.  Despite the grey hairs and crows feet being a dead giveaway, I’ve been blissfully cocooned in the mind of a 19 year old.  Underneath my sagging exterior, I’ve been jiving away to The Venga Boys and playing Snake on my mobile phone.  Hang on, did I just say “jiving”?  Confirmed.  I am getting old.

You see, I’ve recently decided to compete in a half-marathon.  I’ve always enjoyed running and have competed in several running events and triathlons.  I even challenged myself to competing in a full length triathlon when my first born was only eight months old.  Two babies and a few too many chocolate Magnums later though, and it’s not quite as easy.  I still get the same buzz when I’m in the zone.  Nothing else exists except the sweat on my back and the beat of the music on my Ipod.  Those occasions are becoming more few and far between and it seems I can’t walk to the letterbox without pulling a hamstring. 

Getting old can't be that bad

Facebook reminds me of my age every day.  My friends are having their birthdays, turning 32, 35, 38.  How did that happen?  My quadragenarian husband (like that one?) and I begin a Fiesta of Fortieths this weekend and I have to keep reminding myself these are my friends, not my Dad’s mates birthdays that we’re celebrating. 

I’m determined to persevere with my uphill run against the effects of age, but this enlightenment has led me to uncover the REAL 7 signs aging…

1.        You’ve recently developed a passion for drinking tea.  In fact you’re probably having “nice cuppa” right now.

2.       A typical Friday night now involves a block of Fruit & Nut and perving on the cute chippie from Better Homes & Gardens.

3.       You own more than one pair of slippers.

4.       You think modern music is too loud, too rude or too fast

5.       You’ve always got a tissue “handy”.  Most likely it’s in your bra.

6.       You have a gravitational pull towards clothes shopping at Katies.

7.       You can’t remember the last time you wore a G-String

How many more signs can you add to the list?

Oh Baby

I nuzzle my nose in my daughter’s neck and I can smell all of the babies I may never have.  As I soak up that sweet indescribable aroma, I am reminded of those first precious moments with my babies.

You see, last week my second child, my baby, celebrated her first birthday.  I love this age, all sweet smiles and cute noises.  The sleepless nights and tearful days I spent in my PJ’s struggling with the concept of caring for 2 children seem a million years away. 

Jessica the Fairy Princess

The last 12 months haven’t been easy.  Anyone with 2 young children will tell you that life travels at a vertiginous speed (BOOM!).  Trying to teach my 2 year old son the concept of patience while I tend to his sister was a fruitless exercise and the physical logistics of leaving the house with 2 children to attempt something  as menial as grocery shopping still puts me to the test.

I also recently started my own business and am very career driven, I’m training for half marathon and I have a very itchy feet and long to travel. 

Despite all of this, I feel a physical longing inside of me to do it all again. 

The thought of never experiencing this again breaks my heart in a way I simply can’t explain. 

I know I’m crazy.  I know this doesn’t make sense and most importantly, I know I’ll probably never convince Big Daddy to jump on board with this one.  So unless we are blessed with a miraculous immaculate conception, it seems we are destined to be a family of four. 

Don’t worry.  I’ll be ok.  I’ve just resigned myself to a lifetime full of staring at pregnant bellies, crying over old photos and sniffing the necks of random babies.  

Hello Blog #1

Hello Blog, you’ve finally worn me down and now here I am.  Blogging. 

Until now I thought blogging was a self-indulgent pass time done by those who clearly have too much time on their hands, sort of like the new Sudoku.  Honestly, unless your name is Bridget Jones I don’t want to read about what you ate for breakfast or what colour undies you’re wearing. 

So aside from feeling left out and ostracised from the writing community, why am I blogging?  I’m comparing my blog to a literary gym.  A place to practice my new big words and to try to figure out once and for all if I should be using “are” or “is” in a sentence. 

Now that blogs are so ubiquitous (there’s my big word.  Like it?) I’ll be thrilled if anyone reads it.  If you are reading this, please throw some big words my way and I’ll work them into a future blog. 

So there it is. my first blog done.  Like Facebook and coloured denim, I swore I’d never do it – but now look at me go.  Thanks for coming along for the ride.

By the way, in case you were wondering, I ate muesli with banana on it for breakfast and my undies are white.