Can you guys even believe that Charly is heading towards 5 years old?? Ok, I might be jumping ahead, but time seems to be on fast forward this year… So it isn’t too much of a stretch for me to imagine blinking and finding ourselves in February 2019. Living in the future is somewhat necessary right now as we face applying for schools for Grade R in 2020. Can anybody say overwhelm? But, again, I am jumping ahead… We are long overdue a Charly Roses update and there is so much to tell about our ninja ballerina gymnast! [Read more…]
There are some questions you know you will have to answer as a girl mom… Where do babies come from? What is a period? Why doesn’t (somebody) like me? Each question holds its own fears for me. As someone with incredibly low self esteem, the scariest questions for me are around the concept of being beautiful. After all, what DOES beautiful look like? The instinctive answer in my head is always, “not like me”. I have no idea where it started, but I know it never ended. I would do anything to avoid ever having Charly even ask the question! Because that would mean she had a sense of it herself.
Not sure when I became the kind of blogger that only writes when I have something specific to say. Remember the good old days when I just blogged all the time about every random thing that caught my attention? I have a daily microblog thing going on on Instagram. You know what I have found? It’s the photos. I LOVE photos. They tell stories. So when I write here, I can knock out a post in a few hours, but then I have to take or choose photos… which can literally take me days (I wrote this 2 weeks ago). I have drafts, full articles, that have never been published because I just never got to finding the right photos. So yes, Instagram kind of forces me to select a photo from the day (there is at least one photo every day since Charly was born), and then share a bit about the day that was. Oh, yes… back to the topic! Do you remember how bad it was to be called a tattletale? I do. It causes that internal flinch in a goodytwoshoes like myself. From bullies on the playground to grown ups – teachers, parents, aunts and uncles; being called a tattletale was about the worst thing you could be called.