Dance monkey, dance!

It's the week before the school holidays start.

What better way to get in the festive spirit than to run yourself ragged organising 5 million childrens' Christmas party outfits, whistling up disposable party lunches (of course with dietary restrictions), festively decorating scooters/bikes and packing for your holidays with elf-like efficiency. After doing a Chinese laundry's worth of washing/ironing and of course all the while keeping up the jolly ho ho ho spirit.

I have finished work for this year! Oh yeah! Of the office type variety. Now the real work starts.

There is nothing like the stress of packing for three children and the prospect of dragging them through an airport along with a suitcase each. Oh joy. Watch out for the crazy gang of kids bumping Trunkies into people's ankles and the woman about to have a nervous breakdown shouting at them to hurry up! There will be bribes and t(h)reats and chanting of "think of the wine".

Ah but once we arrive at our destination, there may not be snow (yet) but there will be a fire place, bubbly and family. And three crazy kids hammering on a piano. But you can't have everything.

Comments

Stuff it.

Ever feel like you just want someone to come and remove all the junk from your house? The stuff: the kids toys they never play with (but happily scatter around the house); the unread books, the clothes we've outgrown (yet the kids will still pull out, discard in the washing basket unworn for you to wash over and over unknowingly); the things lurking in drawers and cupboards; the things you trip over in the garage. The stuff. This minimalist, Scandi-style is all the rage lately. But after having spent 3 years aiming to reduce the amount of clutter in our house, I can only conclude that I have been defeated. We seem to bring in far more than we get rid off. It's so tempting to get the black bin liners out and just swoop from room to room chucking everything out. Because it's the sorting through, the planning how and where to take things to (tip, charity shop, donate etc) that takes up all the time and makes me loose the will to live. OK, maybe not to live, but at least...

The pool of possibilities. How not knowing your niche makes you valuable.

I was recently asked to think about what my niche is. That whole question was the purpose of this blog when I started it: a place for me to write down my thoughts as I try to find out what it is I’m good at, what my strengths are. A way to discover me and my USP. Turns out, that’s a lot harder to do, when you are the type of person who likes to try new things at a rapid rate and gets bored of them just as quickly. If you read back through my older posts you'll find that I try stuff, invest in it, then move on. You know, the type of person who’s a jack of all trades, master of none. It has a negative connotation, but ask yourself: “What is worse? To never try anything new for fear of not being brilliant or lack of time to become great at it? Or, to learn more about yourself with each new experience gained?” Maybe my niche, my little special party trick, is that I can find enthusiasm for new things, delve into the best way to do it, have a go, then tick it off the list of ...

"Get back in your box" and other thoughts on blogging.

When I look at other people's blogs I love the ones which are multidimensional. I have a preference for those which cover everything from fashion to travel, beauty to food and are personal, open conversations, preferably of the rambling, spill the beans - there is a word I'm looking for here, can't think of it - type. So how come when I think about writing a new post, which differs slightly from my usual slightly neurotic, comical content I feel like a fraud? As if someone will put a big red mark across the page saying "NO. This is not your territory. Get back in your box". I'd love to expand my blog (even calling it that makes me feel like a vain, self-centred idiot) to cover other interests I have in life, to post some of my favourite products I use, fashion loves or places I have visited. To display some pictures rather than hide behind drawings would be cool. So why don't I? It all links back to the fear of criticism. It's somehow easier to t...

MEscovery

Search This Blog