I offer thee a Period Pack. May it improve your hormonal state and my life expectancy.

Period Pack: An offering to the female of the species at her most volatile time. Period packs are, usually, gifted by the male to subdue the females aggressive, emotional and unstable behaviour at the onset of menses. Well received packs typically contain chocolate, puddings, cake, wine and/or relaxation aids such as bath bombs.

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The REAL holiday essentials for traveling with kids. Oh, I forgot to add ducktape.

It’s holiday season, which means it’s ‘essentials for traveling with kids’ blog season. I’ve read so many ‘how to travel with kid’ blog posts, and although they are very practical and full of great tips, I think they lack a little something. A little ‘um, I think that’s illegal K’. As a seasoned traveller *ahem multiple trips up north and twice on a plane* I’m going to give you the real holiday essentials for traveling with a child.

The one where depression tries to silence you

Sometimes I would like to say I’m sorry. To my partner. To my friends. But depression has a way of stifling, silencing my words, unable to be pronounced, never mind explained. Sometimes my actions, speak louder than words, but that voice is false and If I could use my words, I would explain to you why.

Sometimes you see me snap at nothing. If I could use my words I would tell you I snap in frustration, exhaustion and self-protection. I snap because I’m reaching my limit and I cannot have more pressure added. I’d tell you there is turmoil in my mind, over doing what I want and what I feel like I should be doing. I’d tell you my depression winds me so tight, and so highly strung that asking for something outside my normal schedule creates an unjustified amount of stress. I’d tell you that I just want space, but feel wrong or guilty in doing so. I’d tell you being around people can leave me drained.

Lost in Planet Parent. I miss the old me.

I had the best weekend recently. I got the luxury of a date night with my main man, we (I, it’s always I) purchased tickets to a club to stomp along to a favourite DJ of ours, dropping some banging tunes – we still say stomp, drop and banging right? Months ago I bought the tickets and dreamed of our date night. Devil child was adopted for the night by her best friend auntie (She’s MY best friend) and ‘best snuggle giver’ uncle, while mum and dad shoveled drink down their throat, just to get over pre-night out jitters – it’s been a while, I tend to get a little antsy before going out these days. I’m out of practice.

Pumped full of Sailor Jerrys off we went into the night. Until, wait for it…..4am! Say what?! Parents out till 4am, what stop outs…what fools. But don’t worry, the babysitters assured me a late child pick up the following day was acceptable. In fact it was pretty much welcomed, best friend auntie and uncle had the ‘whole day planned’ Elf style. Baking, crafts, playing, cooking, the whole lot, in one day, with a toddler – who’s the fool now?

Can a person say they don’t like motherhood?

I knew very quickly when I had Jess I wasn’t’ like the other mums. They all loved their baby, keen to play, hold and cuddle their squishy ball of human. At one baby class I watched as a mother stared into her babies eyes, smiling and cooing, loving every second of their play. It appeared genuine, it was genuine.  I smiled and cooed with Jess, but I wasn’t enjoying it. I put on a show, pretending to be a ‘mother’.

More than once I was asked by excited, gleeful, wide eyed mums if I was ‘enjoying motherhood?’. My response was always a lie, my honest response would have been akin to telling an exited child that no, you’re not going to Disneyland, you’re going to the waltzers down the road.