Tortillas at Midnight

Now that I'm pregnant with baby number 2 (and made it to the 12 week mark! Yay! It's a sigh of relief), it's been slowly dawning on me that I'll have to give birth again. Yes. It's obvious. The baby can't stay inside forever, right? Although when my daughter was first born and we got the shock of our lives as to how hard parenting is, I did sometimes wish she could go back in. I mean, being heavily pregnant is pretty uncomfortable, but at least they don't cry then. Anyway, now that we've made it through the scary first trimester, I'm realizing that this baby will have to come out, at some point. And my feelings on that are . . . mixed (as though I have a choice in that matter!) I'm not scared of birth. I'm not dreading it. I don't feel anxious about it (yet, maybe check back on that one closer to the time). And I know that I can do it. But right now, the thought of giving birth just sounds really unappealing . And now it's totally oka...

Before I begin upon this journey of a ramble, please rest assured that this isn't a woe is me post, because those are boring. Of course it's entirely normal and good and sometimes necessary to throw a bit of a pity party, but all in moderation of course! In short, this piece is not (well hopefully not too much of): a pity party. It is: a ramble, definitely. The rejection pile. The place where we all end up from time to time. Where everything feels too hard and not good enough and you wonder why you even bother, if your work doesn't seem to be getting anywhere. Yeah. I've been there a lot lately. Once I read about a person who printed out every single rejection letter she got in her writing career. There were hundreds. There were acceptance letters hidden in there too of course, but it's so easy to gloss over those and focus on all of the negativity because it can feel like that's all there is. Then she got a book offer. And she will probably have many more rejec...

Will this list be cliche? Probably. In fact, if you have stumbled upon this void within internet-land, you probably also happen to be a parent. This makes the list kind of redundant, because you will already know that parenting is lovely and hard and lovely and hard and how sometimes it kind of makes you want to curl up in a ball. Perhaps the list can just be for my future reference then. When I'm in one of those inevitable highest highs or lowest lows then I can read this to reflect. Like when my toddler starts sleeping through the night again and isn't cutting any teeth and it's the weekend and my heart feels all full? I can read this list and be truly appreciative of how content I feel and of the ebbs and flows of parenting, without feeling smug. Because the challenges will keep on coming. So then when I feel down and everything is too hard and I'm getting no sleep, then I can remember that one day my toddler will sleep again and one day I'll stop throwing up and...

Today has been a strange morning so far, involving plumbers, blue food colouring, and awkwardly pacing around inside my house. Is it just me who gets nervous and feels awkward when they have a tradie working in their house? It's probably just me. This would be a typical thing that makes me feel weird, but no one else would seem to have a problem with it. Now I'm just rambling. Another weird thing I do. We have a couple of plumbers working on the downstairs in our house as we're renovating the bathroom. The plumbers are very nice and normal and I've talked to them and showed them the work that needs to be done and it was fine. They aren't even in the main section of our house. My toddler and I are on a completely different floor, but with every little noise I think, "but what if they come up the stairs?" And I mean, what if they do? Therefore, in the possibility that they may come into the main section of our house (which again, is unlikely, given that all ...

As soon as I named my blog, I just thought "why?" Why did I do that? Am I going to regret not calling it something meaningful or sophisticated? Probably. But here we are. Tortillas at midnight. Let's go. You see, I'm in this season of life and it's kind of difficult and lonely and sometimes happy. It's the messy, not-very-pretty, jumble of days and nights that all feel like one and trying not to constantly wish it was the weekend, season. The parenting a toddler and growing a baby season. The grand Who Am I season. The grass is always greener on the other side season. The What Am I Doing season. The laundry season. The housework season. The grumpy season and the joyful season. The eating tortillas at midnight while praying my toddler doesn't wake up season.  This is one of many attempts to have an outlet for this mess I'm in right now. I've tried blogging about this before, but nothing felt like it flowed and ultimately it was just frustrating. So ...

It’s just after midnight and I’m trying to open up one of those mini Sistema pea containers as quietly as possible. I always wonder if anyone actually uses them for peas. Personally I’ve only used them for packing grapes or marmite sandwiches, well and now a dry, folded tortilla, so I do wonder what other people put in them. Anyway, I manage to carefully snap the sides open while the dog keeps snoring at the other end of our room and our toddler keeps snoring with her feet in my face so this counts as a win. Tonight, I need these small wins. She woke up just after ten and it was fine at first, I was rocking her back to sleep and made the mistake of smugly thinking that I could go back to bed and eat my tortilla soon. She must have heard my hopeful thoughts and out of nowhere threw her giraffe on the ground and became inconsolable. One bottle and five attempts to put her back into her own bed later, it became clear. I would have to eat my tortilla in stealth-mode. You might be wondering...