CLRowe

Rearranging the rooms in our house, and the cat decides to find the most comfortable sleeping spot he can. WTF?.

Ryan asked chat GPT for a recipe for koftas.

Ryan then left to put Bam to bed.

In his absence, Rushton decided to test the boundaries with a swear word.

The answer was too funny for us to get angry.

🤣🤣🤣🤣

Just realised that the guy who plays the trashy, obnoxious Travis Bug on "Running Point" (one of my new fave shows), is Tom Hanks son!

Mind blown!!!

❤️❤️❤️

Happy mother's day to all the amazing mumma's out there:

The ones who let their kids go a week without a shower.

The ones who let them skip brushing their teeth because they can't be f**ked.

The ones who let them merely lick the broccoli to earn dessert.

The ones who stay in the car at school because they still have their pyjamas on, and the ones who don't give a s**t.

The ones who let them have video game time outside of sanctioned hours so they can ma******te.

The ones who regularly drop the ball on processed food ratios.

The ones who go bra-less in the morning, because time really is that precious.

The ones who forget to sign permission slips, can't stay on top of special events, and grin through the cringe at Christmas concerts.

The ones who swear like sailors, and have to teach profanity context instead of abstinence, because hypocrisy is a bad lesson.

The ones who frequently have 'movie marathons' on weekend mornings, because they're hung over.

The ones who look for the shortest story on the shelf because they're too tired to read.

The ones who let them listen to Eminem because they want to, and then use it as an excuse to teach poetry appreciation.

The ones who cut the feet off their youngest kids onesies to get an extra year out of them.

The ones who let them walk barefoot to the pool, because they don't want to keep track of another pair of shoes.

The ones who recently purchased a VPN so they can still watch Pornhub with the volume down.

The ones who wear their hair in the same hair tie for a week, because shaving it would make everyone think they were dying.

The ones who yell, then cry, then apologise, and then do it again the next day.

The ones who feel like they can't drop a single ball without the sky falling down.

The ones who stay in s**tty marriages to arseholes, becauase being a single mother is too terrifying.

The single ones, who struggle to be independent, and never get a break.

The ones who kept their career, and now have to watch people get promoted ahead of them, whilst continuing to hear about 'equal opportinity.'

The ones who gave up their career, and struggle to find work that isn't completely demeaning for their skill set - or start their own businesses, and then hate themselves for prioritising their finances over school drop off.

The ones who are trying to 'reskill' and listen to uni lectures whilst they breastfeed, fold washing, and make dinner.

The ones who desperately try to be influencers, because it seems like a good idea, and then get stuck lying about how well they're holding it together.

The ones who watch those same influencers, and feel like crap because they aren't 'good enough.'
.. The ones who read posts like this, and feel uncomfortable about how much they see themselves, and what they think it says about them...

It says you're not perfect.

It says you're doing your best, when that never seems to be enough as a mum.

It says that the dream you once had of being a mum, might not be meeting the expectations you had as the naive, delusional girl you once were.
.. But I'll let you in on a secret...

Complex humans aren't raised by cyborgs who never do anything wrong.

Empathetic ones aren't either.

Nor are strong ones...

Resilient ones...
..Or remotely interesting ones...

So if you're merely doing "your best", it is fairly likely that you are smashing motherhood in all the ways that matter for outcomes.

Kids remember how human their parents were.
Not how faultless.
Perfection is BORING!

Don't even aim for it.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY ❤️❤️❤️

Yesterday, it was my son Harry's 7th birthday.

He wanted a fish.

After picking a tank, pebbles, plants, and food - the store owner told me that I had to wait at least a week before putting a fish in the tank, to allow the water to filter with the chemicals.

She declined to sell me a fish, rationalising that they were "responsible" merchants.

I am 42 years old.

This isn't my first fish.

After telling her that I'm not leaving the store without a fish for my child, and threatening to drop my $150 purchase of equipment, she had a reluctant change of heart.

I could suddenly buy a fish, but not without a clearly disgruntled assertion that the fish would probably die within 12 hours without appropriate water filtration first.

After leaving the store, Harry asked me why the lady at the fish store was so grumpy?

'Because she believed something was important,' I said, 'and she wanted to stand by her opinion.'

'But she still let us buy the fish,' he said, confused.

'Yes,' I replied. 'It was important until money was involved. When money is involved, baby, all sorts of things stop being important.'

He considered this, in his little mind, and then asked the most remarkable question:

'Was it wrong to buy the fish?'

I smiled.

'What do you think?' I asked. 'If you really believe something, should money change it?'

He instantly shook his head.

'No,' he said.

'No,' I agreed, reaching over to ruffle his hair as we drove home. 'Remember that, sweetheart. Truly believing something, means nothing can move it, which means you have to really think about what you believe. Always test your beliefs before other people do. When you don't, you look foolish.'

He was silent for a while.

'Is my fish going to die?'

I pursed my lips, because I couldn't guarantee otherwise.

'If he does,' I said, fully aware that he wouldn't, 'then maybe we have to re-think our opinion.'

When we got home, I felt more nervous about setting up an aquarium than I ever had before - despite being a fish keeper my whole life; because I had suddenly put my stance on the line for my child.

But in the end, I stood by what I believed.

The fish wouldn't die.

Hasn't died.

Harry called him "Ember," after the orange coals in our fireplace.

I didn't tell him that fish are disposable pets, that cost $6.50, and that a goldfish has no more right to "life" than the crumbed kind I serve up to him and his brothers.

I didn't tell him that fish do die faster than our 17 year cat, or four year old dog, and that when it does, it would be unreasonable to grieve the same way.

Such lessons will come.

In the end, everything can be quantified.
Everything can be justified.
But if you have a stance, stick to it, and suffer the consequences.

That goes for both conviction, and weakness.

Suffice to say, Ember is a thriving, happy fish today.

Perhaps he will stay that way.
Perhaps he won't.

In the end, it doesn't matter.

A lesson was learned, and whichever way it goes, the lesson will still be valuable, whether I am right or not, and my son will benefit from that lesson regardless.

Okay, so I have had a MASSIVE break from social media, and I have LOVED every second of it. In fact, if these platforms hadn't so sneakily worked their way into every facet of our existence, I think I'd delete all my accounts and live an anti-social hermit life, for the rest of my life.

But here's the kicker...

As much as I really do hate social media and the scourge it has become.

As much as I have felt perfectly okay with being disconnected, missing unimportant bulls**t, not doing fact checks on every single "news" update, and being disturbed by the insane lengths some people will go to for even an ounce of attention (nip slip anyone?🙄)

As much as I hate the fraudulent, one dimensional "isn't my life perfect" (while it's falling apart on the inside) garbage people are STILL intent to post - not to mention the horrifying increase of unqualified influencer garbage and AI proliferation.

I have missed one thing...

The creatives.

People who wouldn't know how to gain a million followers, because that's not their intention.

People with art to bequeath to the world, quietly existing for others to find.

People of true purpose, and passionate intention, who spend 90% of their time producing tangible beauty, and 10% of their time connecting with like-minded individuals, and fans of their work in this electronic space we can no longer avoid.

I have thought about you guys a lot while I've been away, and whilst I'm not going to say "I'M BACK" like I have some grand announcement, I still think it's worth mentioning.

Most people who quit social media are drawn back because they miss the content.

I have come back, because I miss a small handful of people, most of whom I have never met, but felt connected enough to reach out and see how I was.

This is RARE on social media, but I still made it, and I don't want to lose it.

As far as content goes, I've never considered myself a creator beyond the writing I do behind socials. Being a content creator entails strategy, curation, organisation, marketing, and a whole raft of other essentials that I can't be f**ked with. I still have four neurodiverse little boys to raise, a family to care for, books to write, and a master's to complete.

There may come a day when time allows me more effort on socials than a few minutes per day to post something I care about, but I don't need to be structured, and I don't care.

So, I'm going for a hybrid approach. Using social media for what I find meaningful, and discarding the rest. This is not easy to do, but I have an extremely high intolerance for bulls**t, so I'm thinking I can make it work.

So, let's reconnect.
I sincerely hope you have all been well.



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