tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61831458580124558612024-02-19T13:48:57.036+11:00From Boardroom to BabiesCorporate climber turned mum, a blog from the heart.Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-31990896577614721802012-07-02T12:57:00.002+10:002012-07-02T12:57:40.121+10:007 reasons why you’re a BRILLIANT mum!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>ONE</i></b></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your little angel loves giving you kisses, and you <b><i>love</i></b> receiving them, but he kisses open mouthed, with lots of slobber, but you just smile and let it dry on your face rather than wipe it off and hurt his feelings.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFj4kzdyMbjkwsyX4JBquXFgkmCGTjZdb27OL_-UrSV-LEljmlEi2ZvyFqmLJBaI3vm83AKMykITErE_-JKYPoRufeOjBe1djJAl-C8A5Mou88m89tIIU6k-H-L3YiuBSX8TRAuK6ZgRI/s1600/photo-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFj4kzdyMbjkwsyX4JBquXFgkmCGTjZdb27OL_-UrSV-LEljmlEi2ZvyFqmLJBaI3vm83AKMykITErE_-JKYPoRufeOjBe1djJAl-C8A5Mou88m89tIIU6k-H-L3YiuBSX8TRAuK6ZgRI/s320/photo-5.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kissing Mum XXX</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3;"><b><i>TWO</i></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You know that
gorgeous cashmere knit top you’ve had your eye on for the last five or six
weeks? The one you’ve been trying to save for by secretly squirriling away $10
a week from the grocery money? Well you’ve just walked past it in the store to
spend your stealthly saved cash on a new pair of tracksuit pants and shoes for
your son because he’s outgrown his. And the kids always come before you these
days. So you miss out. Again. Oh well.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>THREE</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your socialite girlfriends
invited you out for a rare night on the town, but you sombrely decline, so you
can spend your Friday morning, afternoon, and evening, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>well into
the evening</u></i>, baking and icing a delicious birthday cake worthy of a Women’s Weekly
award for your little angel’s birthday tomorrow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhGHtAqbaS6KN6tJ-QHnhturDI-Ti0zwzeMpPfUDI_luwh1nGm_6rFVy0ES50lyIXHvQVlzQyYFyBFZ-jrZKzdLLKID3twXzLxU067-MO8cQMXtF_I3XFvUx1vfQXj-Ap2N6gG1zuyUlA/s1600/photo-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhGHtAqbaS6KN6tJ-QHnhturDI-Ti0zwzeMpPfUDI_luwh1nGm_6rFVy0ES50lyIXHvQVlzQyYFyBFZ-jrZKzdLLKID3twXzLxU067-MO8cQMXtF_I3XFvUx1vfQXj-Ap2N6gG1zuyUlA/s320/photo-7.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Banana in his PJ's for Max</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYyKIVOH8Xmi1na2Udj7yKvUpwP9258aVDPc-8228y9NvcW0mP4BJ45i5V5Rbi4tmnwUJmywFw9n_4YsK9HRHGXTsSdYS0KK_Df0rPnlRjJ24PpZc1zkWWsTR5ABryYPfT8-fkLM1DuKQ/s1600/photo-8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYyKIVOH8Xmi1na2Udj7yKvUpwP9258aVDPc-8228y9NvcW0mP4BJ45i5V5Rbi4tmnwUJmywFw9n_4YsK9HRHGXTsSdYS0KK_Df0rPnlRjJ24PpZc1zkWWsTR5ABryYPfT8-fkLM1DuKQ/s320/photo-8.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister's fire truck for Joel</td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>FOUR</i></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You feel like shit
today. You’re tired, your hair needs a wash, your legs need waxing, and you’d
give anything to sit on the couch and watch a movie. But instead, you build a
cubbyhouse under the dining table, using all the clean linen in the cupboard,
and you spend the day trying unsuccessfully not to knock your head as you play
“let’s pull Thomas and James along the railway track” for the one millionth
time, pretending it’s the most exciting game in the world! Every time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>FIVE</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You get three
hours to yourself each Wednesday morning. That’s it. And instead of putting
your feet up and watching that rom-com movie you’ve been dying to see, you get
out the vacuum cleaner and cleaning products and give the house a frenzied
scrub, because you’d feel like a bad mum if you cleaned the house instead of
spending “quality time” with your little angel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>SIX</i></b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ellen is your
favourite show. It’s makes you laugh, it’s entertaining and it’s YOUR time. But
“little angel” isn’t tired yet and won’t quit whining unless he can watch
Banana’s in Pyjamas for the upteenth time today. You give in, because you adore
the smile on his angelic face and the happiness it brings him as he laughs
along with B1 and B2’s silly antics.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #8e7cc3; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>SEVEN</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You go without,
you put them first, you smile when you want to cry, your heart melts when they
look at you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>Why are YOU a
brilliant mum?</b> </i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-59945708176923447272012-06-26T10:21:00.000+10:002012-06-26T10:21:03.469+10:00Career woman. One step forward, two steps back?<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The other night I
watched Working Girl on TV, the 1988 movie about a secretary who uses the
absence of her female boss to put forward her own ideas and in the process
realise her own career aspirations. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaqpTFagVYMQJFNtis0g-kbBGNQ8fxGMQNUsVEGCH8h_tB9VmVJXLFPwR72ftns9RB1rT7ft3ecUQWcRcKbObVclPDi581IRqmcL-HTeZUW-OHxM5aAWfTHiWSBPwkgwBvyJjlc9Cd3w/s1600/Working+girl+movie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJaqpTFagVYMQJFNtis0g-kbBGNQ8fxGMQNUsVEGCH8h_tB9VmVJXLFPwR72ftns9RB1rT7ft3ecUQWcRcKbObVclPDi581IRqmcL-HTeZUW-OHxM5aAWfTHiWSBPwkgwBvyJjlc9Cd3w/s400/Working+girl+movie.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This movie came
with all the dazzling glitz and glamour of 1988. Big hair, big shoulder pads and make up that would
be the envy of a circus clown.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was a wonderful
reminder to me that as a woman, I can do anything. I loved my career. I believe
I was great at what I did. I did it with integrity and passion. It didn’t
matter that I was a woman. I did the best job that any <b>PERSON</b> could do.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then I came across
this book at the library.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBo4UfDo_bcOKJGFdZtJxGI0RYmVVsQHps8uHSRI99zQWEjsiOfPtvVGm2zuXGCgNRRbxOhPlUX13aZeMPtRMhwHuVwwRTy9IrFFk1aTxA6WTjKWCnelZmDSJcQ_5v6sUk8iCj8ymGDg/s1600/IMG_2121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglBo4UfDo_bcOKJGFdZtJxGI0RYmVVsQHps8uHSRI99zQWEjsiOfPtvVGm2zuXGCgNRRbxOhPlUX13aZeMPtRMhwHuVwwRTy9IrFFk1aTxA6WTjKWCnelZmDSJcQ_5v6sUk8iCj8ymGDg/s400/IMG_2121.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m sorry, but can someone please explain
to me, why does a woman need a book on computing skills that a man doesn’t need
to learn as well? Don’t men need to use computers in the workplace too?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought we had come so far in terms of
breaking through the glass ceiling of women in corporate roles, but stumbling
across this book made my blood boil!</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, on second glance, perhaps the choice
of hair accessory, the popular 80’s scrunchie, is a giveaway to the age of this
book. Perhaps the library are the one’s who need to update their books!</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-16192083914295856412012-06-21T16:47:00.000+10:002012-06-21T16:47:51.026+10:00Two pink lines...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two pink lines.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They mean so much.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In my case they spelt out ten weeks of constant nausea, vomiting, lack of appetite and an overwhelming sense of feeling sorry for myself.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Yes, I am pregnant!</i></b></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was with palpable excitement in early April that I lay in bed and watched the look of pure joy on my husbands face as I told him of our great news.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To be completely and utterly honest, until now, that was the ONLY time I have been excited during these last three months.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Being sick sure does know how to impede a party.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It hit me hard. I found myself buried under a sea of blankets as I tried not to move, lest the little that I managed to eat during dinner found its way out again.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I couldn’t write posts for my blog. I couldn’t enjoy anyone else’s. My son suffered, as I couldn’t give him the best of me.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was so tired. Like a bear hibernating for the winter, I wanted to close my eyes and wake up smiling, already in my second trimester.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I kept telling myself to be grateful. Miscarriage is such a common occurrence that I should count my lucky stars all was going well. Feeling sick was a good sign, surely?</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwz6p22ro1GONgFDnJDjks0WPTlo46oaURuOK_XxluscSMFlxn5KzDHYtH457eMlH1nqUoSidgjSJLW97ZcJFKMbNc9KIFjiwRcSEgmHOwBtQLjG-Kqz1SrkdNSfJGqnR8sL4XhK2U6g/s1600/photo-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFwz6p22ro1GONgFDnJDjks0WPTlo46oaURuOK_XxluscSMFlxn5KzDHYtH457eMlH1nqUoSidgjSJLW97ZcJFKMbNc9KIFjiwRcSEgmHOwBtQLjG-Kqz1SrkdNSfJGqnR8sL4XhK2U6g/s400/photo-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello in there!</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Again, like my first pregnancy, almost overnight, nausea and exhaustion were replaced with nursery decorating ideas and a desire to spring clean. Names are now circulating through the recesses of my head and I’m starting to enjoy my swollen belly as it ceases hiding its secret within.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Due on the 27<sup>th</sup> December, my fingers are crossed that we’ll have a bigger family and be home in time for Christmas.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a precious gift!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFozSeehNX3FsduQpmc8T3bub8mAVQejyh_tMOHgyA7XS-2uAL5qg_gVIZ2uYTO_HZtZzi5dTcB8389zDtVZtriNC-wzZHVWxffUKUfxTKEPclFJsTgwp8M3QDAI8GMTSpXQ_pZ75-us/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPFozSeehNX3FsduQpmc8T3bub8mAVQejyh_tMOHgyA7XS-2uAL5qg_gVIZ2uYTO_HZtZzi5dTcB8389zDtVZtriNC-wzZHVWxffUKUfxTKEPclFJsTgwp8M3QDAI8GMTSpXQ_pZ75-us/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
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</div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-21954624406969740512012-06-19T16:14:00.000+10:002012-06-19T16:14:32.387+10:00My day out with a gorgeous male (and it wasn't my husband!)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyhCF8DIKTaXo9Bukt-MKEii9Za6hEG-XKX4Il3QzT-9e6mFa3Xjwu5yvSCA8uRbq8SfneZdX34M12citXxnd1zCWHGZ-dfURt-G37H_95A8t_qOzVqsa0p-5Bh_tSk3aOiUrsBarEx0/s1600/photo-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyhCF8DIKTaXo9Bukt-MKEii9Za6hEG-XKX4Il3QzT-9e6mFa3Xjwu5yvSCA8uRbq8SfneZdX34M12citXxnd1zCWHGZ-dfURt-G37H_95A8t_qOzVqsa0p-5Bh_tSk3aOiUrsBarEx0/s640/photo-3.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glorious Melbourne sunshine!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my last posts had me reflecting on a
<a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/i-miss-my-old-life.html" target="_blank">past life that I often miss.</a> You know that single life where you can do
anything, go anywhere, whenever you like?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well last week I took a trip with my son to
Melbourne, my old stomping ground. I caught up with my lovely sister and her
two little boys, and was able to catch up with friends I haven’t seen in years.
It was brilliant.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the highlights of my trip left me
smiling ear to ear for days afterwards.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a day out, I took my son Max into town
on the train. We strolled through Bourke Street, had a hot chocolate and a baby
chino at Koko Black (with accompanying chocolate teddy on a stick), spent forty
glorious minutes wandering the Myer toy department, caught up with a lovely old
friend who had yet to meet Max, and then whilst my little angel slept in the
pram I wandered the banks of the Yarra in the glorious Melbourne sunshine.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was such a beautiful day. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With my
favourite little person.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In my life before kids I would have been
stuck at work that day. Perhaps I might have dressed up that evening only to
wander from bar to bar with my friends, trying to find “Mr. Right”, wishing I
were at home in my track pants with a glass of wine and a good movie.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How my life has changed. And I am so much
happier for it!</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpdDuknbuCMKtnnvJ9NdhfaGzGHFA7cRAdIBFqCJt_XlrjUNQ8EPEA3tVSiECz4_Z6GZmaEOifX3a_cWJEp58xlvUySU0cGSzLslb544qFp0M72-SeF1rc2Ym7t2FOqZ9aLS45p52_ho/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPpdDuknbuCMKtnnvJ9NdhfaGzGHFA7cRAdIBFqCJt_XlrjUNQ8EPEA3tVSiECz4_Z6GZmaEOifX3a_cWJEp58xlvUySU0cGSzLslb544qFp0M72-SeF1rc2Ym7t2FOqZ9aLS45p52_ho/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-84810258244295200362012-06-06T14:47:00.000+10:002012-06-06T14:47:14.198+10:00The first goodbye.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMxXwhyC13WeTRbialVMxthzsbcCWi8OW7YoBhok6AJOzjH-dxXFbQeKUv8e5Xu0FBFCPQJkzOw7153uPxzAhVZLCEaUQWOp-Vzg4YPGDkZqNv5JCDWNJ7JyJVG2bitfUmM-nBEYuYlU/s1600/IMG_2403.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwMxXwhyC13WeTRbialVMxthzsbcCWi8OW7YoBhok6AJOzjH-dxXFbQeKUv8e5Xu0FBFCPQJkzOw7153uPxzAhVZLCEaUQWOp-Vzg4YPGDkZqNv5JCDWNJ7JyJVG2bitfUmM-nBEYuYlU/s400/IMG_2403.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tears are pricking behind my eyes,
threatening to roll their salty drops down my face.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I slowly, thoroughly pack my sons
belongings into a canvas bag. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For months now I’ve been sharing my desires
of solitude, <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/05/i-dont-want-to-be-mum-today.html" target="_blank">of some time to myself.</a></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My time is here. Now I’m not sure I want
it.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What will he do when he realises I am
leaving him? Will he cry? Will I?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What if he’s upset and I’m not there to
console him, to draw him into my loving embrace, the place he knows where
everything will be OK?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don’t want to cry. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Will it be obvious, that tears are
teetering on the edge of my lashes, when I place his bag into the cubbyhole,
full of his belongings all labeled with his name?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Will he sense my hesitation and cling ever
more tightly around my neck?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So many questions, so many emotions, but so
many great things can come from this.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Day care. The first day. The first time I
have been away from him.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sure, it’s only for three hours, but
guaranteed, it will be the longest three hours of my life, and I will be
staring at the clock until it’s time for me to pick him up.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheY3_TdAfTTzTOq5L4f4zZtJyx-jsejDHk0jXfTXNcOivlJ6SQo501QrZlBPgb3m2d3t_wEQjkYy9Q3wiV-MZO3eoKkpX9ZuxhDm6wStN1RW0BLCkmT7Rlnml8cFXRFlE4ql14TYnSUcQ/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheY3_TdAfTTzTOq5L4f4zZtJyx-jsejDHk0jXfTXNcOivlJ6SQo501QrZlBPgb3m2d3t_wEQjkYy9Q3wiV-MZO3eoKkpX9ZuxhDm6wStN1RW0BLCkmT7Rlnml8cFXRFlE4ql14TYnSUcQ/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did <b><i>YOU </i></b>cry?</span></span></div>
</div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-32907145239037915502012-06-05T14:36:00.001+10:002012-06-05T14:36:26.436+10:00I miss my old life.<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEnPJkYxUL4FCE-ANShyP4nKPoOcESAIO1F37xwVFvL-Qe2qE3kAt8vOR1qvt98pOK2mZjVG81erQwQXYrMAviwTfbFJqQcgv_ouF7mO59HfecBBAYhdtHwSmnI81ojDk93KIXFRD-so/s1600/292201_10150990655687419_1409777217_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDEnPJkYxUL4FCE-ANShyP4nKPoOcESAIO1F37xwVFvL-Qe2qE3kAt8vOR1qvt98pOK2mZjVG81erQwQXYrMAviwTfbFJqQcgv_ouF7mO59HfecBBAYhdtHwSmnI81ojDk93KIXFRD-so/s400/292201_10150990655687419_1409777217_n.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My gorgeous little family and I have just
spent over a week on holidays in the Noosa sun. It was such a pity the glorious sun was
shrouded by heavy black clouds determined to lash their fat raindrops upon us. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was an unbeatable location. A wonderful
two bedroom apartment directly in front of the beach, a short walk to the natural
wonders of the National Park and a leisurely stroll past fine restaurants
offering cuisines from around the world.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s such a shame we didn’t get to
experience it all.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The rain bound us to our apartment for too
many hours and with a sixteen-month old son, five books, seven matchbox cars
and a Bananas in Pyjamas DVD, we were climbing the walls from day two.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On a rare solitary walk during a break in
the rain, I got to thinking about life before kids. How would my husband and I
have passed a rain soaked holiday on our own? We would have lazed about on the
couch watching movies, relaxed in bed reading the latest book, and let’s face
it, we would have lain in bed doing more exciting things than just reading.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But with a toddler wanting to be
entertained from morning till night, it’s impossible to do those things that
two or three years ago we would have gladly welcomed. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would not give up this current chapter of
my life for anything, but I have to say, I do really miss my old life
sometimes. The ability to go and do whatever you please, whenever you please
was really not appreciated enough in my days before Max. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now I covet those rare
opportunities when a demanding toddler isn’t dictating what I do for most of my
waking hours.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For now, I keep telling myself that it’s OK
to miss my old life. Do you?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnLRzs8ElNGVo-uD_rcEWDVcjB60GdrkO1Cydd6ZTGR2rFFb_T6Chnc13EnHgXUAY3C6CX9Orjgkk9K0h-Drf2Z0svv_0_SHcNO1ssi8eqOfR54YRtjZbRW-zvyL-FNi5y2Qhk7S64nU/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnLRzs8ElNGVo-uD_rcEWDVcjB60GdrkO1Cydd6ZTGR2rFFb_T6Chnc13EnHgXUAY3C6CX9Orjgkk9K0h-Drf2Z0svv_0_SHcNO1ssi8eqOfR54YRtjZbRW-zvyL-FNi5y2Qhk7S64nU/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-68084895662165459172012-05-22T14:17:00.001+10:002012-05-22T14:17:41.025+10:00The sister I never knew I had<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55EF25Q83TO13YLi1PgG3Oytw8mG9Ub-i3gvLTtv41fZz9HrFCifhU2eKpzueuOJrjAtbvykLZbEyd6g8adnzzOxfc0FA7d4DeXTg1yKbHrH9Vw9nmMqHyBo2IAjusvLE3a0Xy0DoroU/s1600/40766-stock-photo-of-two-little-girls-sisters-or-friends-sitting-on-a-wall-smiling-and-holding-hands-cheek-to-cheek-circa-1900-by-oldpixe-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi55EF25Q83TO13YLi1PgG3Oytw8mG9Ub-i3gvLTtv41fZz9HrFCifhU2eKpzueuOJrjAtbvykLZbEyd6g8adnzzOxfc0FA7d4DeXTg1yKbHrH9Vw9nmMqHyBo2IAjusvLE3a0Xy0DoroU/s320/40766-stock-photo-of-two-little-girls-sisters-or-friends-sitting-on-a-wall-smiling-and-holding-hands-cheek-to-cheek-circa-1900-by-oldpixe-1.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was just shy of my second birthday when
my mother gave birth to my sister, Simone. I was over the moon, (apparently). I
was gentle, affectionate, caring, and adoring of my little baby sister.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As time passed we developed a wonderful
relationship. As sisters do, we shared secrets, played dress ups and
choreographed our own silly dance routines. I remember when we were seven or
eight we used to share a bedroom and we would giggle uncontrollably after
lights out until one of our parents would storm in yelling, <b><i>“WILL YOU BE QUIET
AND GO TO SLEEP!”</i></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We both shared a love of dancing. She
supported me when I played in piano recitals and I would cheer from the crowded
sidelines when she competed for NSW in rhythmic gymnastics.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then everything changed. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We started high
school. (insert embarrassing high school photo, I think not!)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As so often happens, high school turned us
both into miserable, moody bitches. I became a bit of a goody two shoes,
withdrawing from my embarrassing sibling, whilst my sister became an all black
wearing rebellious teen.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We fell out. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At 18 she moved away. I
stayed. Living in different states we drifted apart. Sure we spoke sometimes on
the phone but they were never the kinds of conversations you’d have with a best
friend.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then after many, many years, we both found
ourselves married with kids. And all of a sudden, we were best of friends
again. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We gabbed about the colour of poo, dinner
recipes for fussy toddlers and the secrets we keep from our husbands. <i>(No
honey, I just made that up for the sake of the story, honest)</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s desperately unfortunate for both of us
that we still live in different states, but the fact that we can pick up the
phone on any given day and be there for each other makes my heart smile.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m eternally grateful for my beautiful
sister, the sister I never truly knew I had until I opened my eyes. (Sorry if I've made you cry Sim.)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9Ibmm8LHsLtV_ClfIxTwLTPb5Jo-EcoUpvNHW6aKjkLI_5gpxmI5jaIymz8VvgUeCBZS_dLa3SiNU_t1GDIz1tV-WoDSZ8tGcJ2Qfn08YKbyvRkdxsDMgt_iB1eQj3gA6G-eRunIjjg/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9Ibmm8LHsLtV_ClfIxTwLTPb5Jo-EcoUpvNHW6aKjkLI_5gpxmI5jaIymz8VvgUeCBZS_dLa3SiNU_t1GDIz1tV-WoDSZ8tGcJ2Qfn08YKbyvRkdxsDMgt_iB1eQj3gA6G-eRunIjjg/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-40636168999713671842012-05-14T21:03:00.001+10:002012-05-14T21:03:10.730+10:00Mojo, Mojo, wherefore art thou Mojo?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nhYfZ7-56WK4XSEp5-DtOjpveRyVUWfqkq0r46pVD26A5sJPb0BYHlxgoWNabgWr16u-OGWapnfv2B2966fMzod9QS7zgVpHVVChMnLSExe4uxmhoKKsrbv__IZXhZVNFDHFeCxdpf4/s1600/sleeping-cat-10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3nhYfZ7-56WK4XSEp5-DtOjpveRyVUWfqkq0r46pVD26A5sJPb0BYHlxgoWNabgWr16u-OGWapnfv2B2966fMzod9QS7zgVpHVVChMnLSExe4uxmhoKKsrbv__IZXhZVNFDHFeCxdpf4/s400/sleeping-cat-10.jpg" width="232" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear avid readers, I sincerely apologise. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My mojo has not only departed the building,
it’s run out the back door, jumped the fence, and was last seen sprinting
across the soccer field. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the last two weeks I have been suffering from an abominable case of lethargy (perhaps comatose would be a more accurate description)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’ve been left scratching my head. My
quilting fabric squares lay on the bed in neat little piles, quietly mumbling
away that they’d like to be sewn together please. The crumbs on my hardwood floors crunch away with every step
I take, pleading to be sucked away into the lovely warm confines of the vacuum
cleaner, and the bathroom? Don’t go in there unless an entire bottle of Domestos is used.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven’t been able to sit at my computer
and focus for at least a week. I miss reading about the latest adventures of my
friends on Facebook. I feel terrible about not following my blogging community
more closely. I feel guilty that I’ve not responded to friends’ emails and
messages, not because I’m unorganized, but because I haven’t even logged on to
look at them.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m so tired. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yes I only have one child, but he is into
EVERYTHING. I used to smile in pleasant “understanding” at friends who would
tell me that their kids were into everything, but now, I actually get it. If
I’ve picked up the contents of the kitchen cupboard from the floor once, I’ve
picked them up a hundred times. (Note to self- get a cupboard and fridge door
lock, ASAP). I seriously don’t know how women with a gaggle of children do it.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s not just Max who has worn me down but I’m hoping it’s just a phase. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So please forgive me. I just need a little more
time.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3T2s7I-IbiKzWZ1RktK-rdl5JZ2JSJpHZRQ7GhGpT4aWHgWvQis6UpqCLVAtpoMcNclpQUbbJMA1Sx5TwnkcHvmz7oy5OehY2L011miImh0eSNDHc3S3Srdo49jXmg6V32XpaU-H6hM/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY3T2s7I-IbiKzWZ1RktK-rdl5JZ2JSJpHZRQ7GhGpT4aWHgWvQis6UpqCLVAtpoMcNclpQUbbJMA1Sx5TwnkcHvmz7oy5OehY2L011miImh0eSNDHc3S3Srdo49jXmg6V32XpaU-H6hM/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span lang="EN-US"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">LOST</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Mojo.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Handsome reward if found!</span></div>
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-8070043841339200862012-05-09T11:35:00.000+10:002012-05-09T11:35:08.159+10:00Why the "Man Drought" is a load of rubbish.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFZykXW0PqozvtRj6dB2GU70kBM3PP2nHKC3MRxQ0JJAwY06EYIK9EmZBCfhOJkS8vQumWQlRViLj0feBM53WiANLVJV_iVLuf6p8RjUWMmk3BSwJHmBgRTFVLfQ8XS9lD6QjQYfLEpA/s1600/IMG_2303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzFZykXW0PqozvtRj6dB2GU70kBM3PP2nHKC3MRxQ0JJAwY06EYIK9EmZBCfhOJkS8vQumWQlRViLj0feBM53WiANLVJV_iVLuf6p8RjUWMmk3BSwJHmBgRTFVLfQ8XS9lD6QjQYfLEpA/s320/IMG_2303.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Apparently we are in the driest depths of a
“man shortage”. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Recent studies reveal there are only 86,000 men for 1.3 million women across Australia. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEuwqPEqyfqFJwh_LIoFYVkWOCr35XGusJAvH11_uK62wxkxDQxlYIwUAd2WUPv3UqWTxMWHOK4RY9scOCkogY_V_T20vkgpaqKTA_T9nQRtUs3BeQfH-9r6AyIXBlL4MF2y0K8py15XA/s1600/IMG_2299.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEuwqPEqyfqFJwh_LIoFYVkWOCr35XGusJAvH11_uK62wxkxDQxlYIwUAd2WUPv3UqWTxMWHOK4RY9scOCkogY_V_T20vkgpaqKTA_T9nQRtUs3BeQfH-9r6AyIXBlL4MF2y0K8py15XA/s400/IMG_2299.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some sources (who I will not name) have
suggested that women stop being so fussy, stop looking for Mr. Right and start
saying yes to “Mr. Not So Bad”</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let me start by saying that this is
complete bullshit.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Firstly, news reports failed to make it
clear that these “eligible” men were only in the age bracket of 25 to 34 and
had to have an income of over $60,000. So basically, all those gorgeous younger
men were excluded, the distinguished older men were eliminated, and any man in
the age bracket who may be wonderful but earn slightly less than 60k a year
were entirely forgotten about. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What about the men who are finishing their
studies to become doctors, lawyers, and other respected professionals? What
about the handsome foreign men with intoxicating accents who have made
Australia their home (for now)? My sister and two girlfriends all married
English men who were here on holidays. Those men wouldn’t have been counted in
the 86,000.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then don’t even get me started on this
ridiculous idea that we should look for “Mr. Not So Bad” rather than Mr. Right.
I agree, that there is no such thing as Mr. Right. All men have flaws, as do most women (I hate to say). But there is most definitely a <b>“Mr. Right For Me”</b>, for
everyone.</span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJX3OjfVu11dIEysc56D_GkQNzsZlay8J2Yx2Q0DCRMboCVBXrXwjRdXHtZSyEj7HS5xkXVDG4hXDB2I2PC8Xs84qZfsUwGXZ7pibEOekaQwqZnPTQ3qUysnMenfC_G0XcYBnFxPlRUU/s1600/IMG_2302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOJX3OjfVu11dIEysc56D_GkQNzsZlay8J2Yx2Q0DCRMboCVBXrXwjRdXHtZSyEj7HS5xkXVDG4hXDB2I2PC8Xs84qZfsUwGXZ7pibEOekaQwqZnPTQ3qUysnMenfC_G0XcYBnFxPlRUU/s1600/IMG_2302.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My husband doesn’t really like me telling
this story, but I tell it for a very good reason. When I first met him, we were
only ever friends. For two years I didn’t think of him as a potential
boyfriend/husband! The reason I like recounting this to people is simple. My <b>“Mr.
Right For Me”</b> was <b><u><i>IN FRONT OF MY EYES</i></u></b> and I didn’t even know it! It just wasn’t
the right time for me. It wasn't until I was 36 that we started dating.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have a BEAUTIFUL girlfriend who is in her
early 30’s, and is still single. She is attractive, beautiful on the inside,
intelligent, funny and the most caring woman you could ever meet. Now the idea
that she is being too fussy really irks me. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why the hell should we settle? I
would rather be happy and single than be miserable and in the wrong
relationship.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have no doubt whatsoever that my
girlfriend, and all the single ladies out there, will meet their "Mr. Right For
Me". It’s just a matter of time. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s easy to say, but still hard to accept
when you’re the one waiting for him. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPtU_jbGizw_cdHwL9Y239sAzFqwX7bZXToCiZQ50qriU-8397tWXj4yFIpih6HjmoByAoRaccXlVh_W3NR3IDP7DETl88W4vZVawxt3gXPPl9xoo7IW4J5HpmEP4JEGSkbxy9AyCmedE/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPtU_jbGizw_cdHwL9Y239sAzFqwX7bZXToCiZQ50qriU-8397tWXj4yFIpih6HjmoByAoRaccXlVh_W3NR3IDP7DETl88W4vZVawxt3gXPPl9xoo7IW4J5HpmEP4JEGSkbxy9AyCmedE/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I spent an eternity kissing toads, but it
was absolutely worth it for the Prince I have captured!</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To discover why I love my husband, head to <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/my-wedding-speech.html" target="_blank">My Wedding Speech</a>.</span></span></div>
</div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-82379859896341722982012-05-07T16:01:00.000+10:002012-05-07T16:01:34.424+10:00I don't want to be a mum, today...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLG0uvbsb9oiW3hABPU8oACSo14PlSpVTCfchLIw15GWFXRADRi3Tnnm7LPb_kUShtNnFWWV2xmx5bbWyAyUC2MkNSm7j0C1YflgEG2zhUuMKgn6Cvu8DbzR1oXsfnM_QhQ5UsISzNA7E/s1600/85+tulips.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLG0uvbsb9oiW3hABPU8oACSo14PlSpVTCfchLIw15GWFXRADRi3Tnnm7LPb_kUShtNnFWWV2xmx5bbWyAyUC2MkNSm7j0C1YflgEG2zhUuMKgn6Cvu8DbzR1oXsfnM_QhQ5UsISzNA7E/s400/85+tulips.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have almost reached breaking point.
Please tell me you’ve been here before.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love my son, dearly. I’m excited to wake
up in the morning so I can gaze adoringly into his beautiful face, and to smell
his sweet sleepy breath as he kisses me good morning.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However recently, I find myself feeling
irritable. What has happened to me? Why aren’t I glowing with maternal love?
Why don’t I think everything my son does is cute? Yesterday some good friends
came over for lunch. They asked, “don’t you find it cute when your toddler follows
you around the house?” and I retorted in an instant, <b>“NO!” </b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Slightly negative perhaps?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><u>Well I am human!</u></i> Spending <b>EVERY day</b> with my
son is starting to take its toll. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He spent nine months attached to me (well
it was actually only eight, he arrived early), and for the last sixteen months
I have not had a day away from him. Yes, my wonderful husband (and I must say
wonderful, because he is still a little put out by my <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/6-secrets-your-husband-doesnt-want-you.html" target="_blank">Six Secrets Your Husband Doesn't Want You To Know</a> post), often
looks after Max while I have a break, but these are hour long moments, possibly
two or even three, but how I would KILL for a whole day where I don’t have to
be a mum.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I often daydream about what it would be
like to have a whole day off to myself, and what glorious things I would do.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would wake up when I damn well wanted to,
not when a little voice murmured from across a darkened hallway (mum, mum, mum,
mum!). I would lazily slide out of bed and take pleasure in cooking breakfast, perhaps
scrambled eggs on toast. Usually I have a small boy pulling at my pyjama
bottoms so handling a hot frying pan is a tad hazardous. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I would go for a long run, take a
refreshing shower, and then meander through town for a spot of shopping. I
could try on clothes by myself! (Normally a whingeing toddler pulls open the
curtain, revealing a mortified self in knickers and bra!)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then the most anticipated moment; I would
meet up with my girlfriends for some afternoon drinks in the sun. There would
be no “witching hour(s)”; there would be no crying because dinner wasn’t cooking
fast enough. It would be all about me, and no one else!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I realise when my husband and I decided to
have kids we signed up for a lifetime of putting them first, but for just <b>ONE
DAY</b> I would love to “call in sick” from my job as mum.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Alas, my wish has been granted!</b> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This Friday
I am finally getting a ME day and I am SO EXCITED! I’m having lunch in town
with my friend, then getting dressed up and watching Prince, my all time
favourite artist, <u><i>from the eleventh row!</i></u> Then the next morning, my darling
husband has booked me in for a hair appointment before I head home.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm sure I'll miss my little man though.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do YOU need a day off too?</span><br />
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<!--EndFragment-->Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-67949590774665729772012-05-03T11:04:00.001+10:002012-05-03T11:06:45.997+10:00Coming face to face with my sponsor child!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wednesday 28</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><sup>th</sup></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> October 2009. I
hesitantly board an Ethiopian Air flight from the capital, Addis Ababa, to
the small town of Mekele. It was one of those flights that stop at various
towns along its route, similar to a bus. I am the only person on the small
aircraft to get off at this stop, so wouldn’t you know, I’m the only person in
the airport!</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I pluck my lonely bag off the carousel
I can’t be sure if what I’m feeling is doubt, excitement or a mish-mash of the
two.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of course, to compound my nervousness and
anxiety of traveling alone, World Vision were NOT at the airport to greet me as
was planned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Standing outside the airport, alone, with
no taxis, no buses, no other person in sight, I pull my trusty Blackberry from
my bag and dial the hotel. Perhaps they could come and pick me up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I’m sorry Miss, but your reservation is
for tomorrow. Unfortunately we do not have any rooms available for tonight.”
Said the receptionist at the ONLY hotel in Mekele.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tears start to trace their trail down
my face. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>SHIT, SHIT, SHIT. What the f#*k do I do now? </b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After an emotion laden frantic call to my
sister back home, fifteen minutes later a World Vision 4WD comes thundering up
to the curb.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“I’m so sorry!” came the response from
the burly man inside. “We had you down as coming tomorrow!” I secretly try to
wipe away the tears so he cannot see I’ve been crying.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the World Vision team works their
magic to find me a room in the hotel, I try to fall asleep, giddy in the
knowledge that I will be the first ever white person to visit the village of
Samre, the home town of Dawit!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next morning there were four of us in
the four-wheeled drive. Melese, Kifewtou, Gideon and I. It is a beautiful day.
I can smell the appetizing aroma of spiced meals being prepared through my open
window as we pass small villages on the way to Samre. Women with corn rolls in
their hair carry babies on their backs, children plough the fields whilst their
fathers herd camels or cultivate the wheat.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m jolted around in my seat for an hour
and a half as we drive over rocks that have fallen onto our dirt road. Although
the landscape is harsh, it is beautiful and I feel transported to another time
in history. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At last, as we round a bend, I glimpse a
small town perched atop the crest of a mountain. “There is Samre,” says Melese,
and my tummy fills with butterflies. Very soon I will meet Dawit.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As we make our way through the small town
of Samre, word spreads fast. There is a white woman driving through town! I
can’t help but feel that perhaps they have been waiting for me as people line
the streets to catch a glimpse.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The car slows down outside a small shack.
It is a one room, mud brick house with a weather beaten tin roof. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Instantly I
recognize him (Dad, he IS real!). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am invited inside where there are two
small single beds to sleep a family of four. Borrowed chairs are tightly
squeezed into the already cramped space and we are offered traditional
Ethiopian coffee and warm bread, cooked on a spattering of twigs placed on the
earth floor.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US">My visit is not what I expected. Dawit is
so shy. His native language Tigrinian is translated into Ethiopian then to
English, so conversation is very stilted. </span><span lang="EN-US"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After visiting Dawit’s school, it is time to say
goodbye. I have traveled over continents and have taken five planes to get
here, and it is over already. I don’t want to say goodbye.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But for now, I have to be content in the
knowledge that I have met him, he IS real, I’ve seen what World Vision are
working on in his village, and we’ll always have this moment. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We hug. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Through language and cultural barriers, I know he
is grateful for my journey, as I am grateful to have met him. This has changed
my life.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0-vaqUmFHmJcF9h4w9UXavwKgUJ6dm1wIXP5ywtOyEGsYHoSBwxnYFm7yNXT4gFNqWdpQ2vCWqH2uSsvRcSCRN-Sd8VLI0sVOteYlfE_OVnsojuxYLJMvhpcvG8zMt7zsx1EwyxXdGE/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0-vaqUmFHmJcF9h4w9UXavwKgUJ6dm1wIXP5ywtOyEGsYHoSBwxnYFm7yNXT4gFNqWdpQ2vCWqH2uSsvRcSCRN-Sd8VLI0sVOteYlfE_OVnsojuxYLJMvhpcvG8zMt7zsx1EwyxXdGE/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To read about my other experiences in Africa, click <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/p/life-before-kids.html" target="_blank">here.</a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji0-vaqUmFHmJcF9h4w9UXavwKgUJ6dm1wIXP5ywtOyEGsYHoSBwxnYFm7yNXT4gFNqWdpQ2vCWqH2uSsvRcSCRN-Sd8VLI0sVOteYlfE_OVnsojuxYLJMvhpcvG8zMt7zsx1EwyxXdGE/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-35377610250063065382012-04-30T16:23:00.000+10:002012-04-30T16:23:49.367+10:00Pram in the City<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtjVrJYUqc-xw_JyFVAuiFy2gpVjrxgAjg2ePm43knYWzqP9AzDAgvluy3FJqzrVeEca27nmMH90nU44B0NVlsu5KVVSdd0b7zr9e0sXnIYYHgvZxV45rWwPCk2GdJweVjgcaQYuMvm8/s1600/IMG_2102.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtjVrJYUqc-xw_JyFVAuiFy2gpVjrxgAjg2ePm43knYWzqP9AzDAgvluy3FJqzrVeEca27nmMH90nU44B0NVlsu5KVVSdd0b7zr9e0sXnIYYHgvZxV45rWwPCk2GdJweVjgcaQYuMvm8/s400/IMG_2102.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">There’s something enchanting about the city
that attracts me to it. Maybe it’s the hype and spirit that comes with the
bustle of city life, perhaps it’s the glistening chrome and mirror that declare
an exciting store has recently opened, my credit card threatening to escape my
purse with a life of it’s own, or possibly it is the curious combination of
skyscraper against a backdrop of beautiful harbour.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Whatever the attraction is for me, the city
chewed me up and spat me out last month, leaving me jaded, disillusioned and
worse for wear.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Reflecting upon my corporate days, an era
bygone, I spent my time hurrying from one Mimco store to the next, and as five
of my biggest turnover stores were city based, that meant much of my day was
spent traipsing the city streets, on a mission to complete as much work as I
could fit into nine or ten hours.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I would be dressed in my finest outfits. My
patent heels would always match my designer handbag, leather laptop bag slung over
one shoulder and an assortment of folders and notebooks clutched in my arms. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Since becoming a mum, I’ve ventured into
the city by myself on three occasions, a trip very different to those of the
past. No longer adorned in Mimco or Fleur Wood, my comfy flats and well-worn
jeans are now thrown together with a baggy tee. These days it’s all about
effortless speed.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Inspection of my bag post baby reveals a
very different assortment of contents. Gone are the highlighters, USB sticks, calculator
and budget sheets. Take a peek and you’ll see nappies and wet ones, teething rusks,
toy cars, sun hats, sunscreen, a jumper (just in case) and plenty of food to
keep growling tummies at bay. There is no longer room for that anticipated
novel to read during lunch or a newly acquired purchase for me. No. It’s not
about me anymore.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">My biggest gripe however, is not my attire,
nor is it the bag I have to lug around. It is the fact that as a mum with a
pram, I feel I am viewed as an obstruction, a dawdling, meandering annoyance.
Suit wearing city workers hustle by, bumping into us as though we have no right
to be here. Even my long awaited introduction to the first Zara store in
Australia brought with it a dark cloud. Excited women with bundles of clothing
roll their eyes at me as they try and reach across the pram to grab at more
apparel.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Bu1te1-tVDiwzdPhwl5Xj241o3e40_fzmhRyigMgE58G_Lo9KKaA9Si-UZJOVOtTuNS7vOB-9uIYiinEMbYZEbztrwMage070zEjRoeBCxnuL1tAoXsiE_nT6UMzyJ5XRTm6dwriwMg/s1600/2771-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Bu1te1-tVDiwzdPhwl5Xj241o3e40_fzmhRyigMgE58G_Lo9KKaA9Si-UZJOVOtTuNS7vOB-9uIYiinEMbYZEbztrwMage070zEjRoeBCxnuL1tAoXsiE_nT6UMzyJ5XRTm6dwriwMg/s320/2771-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Don’t even think about going for a wee.
Where can we go that accommodates a pram? Unless you have a friend to stand
guard or you leave your pram outside, you’re holding on girl!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">So what used to be an empowering occasion
is now viewed by me as a venture cloaked in anxiety.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Lucky for me my last trip was to the Sydney
Aquarium, where they have loads of parents rooms, space to crawl around on
one’s knees (not mine), and sauntering tourists who are in no hurry whatsoever
to get from point A to point B.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfj77FPgoobE6Z7y2VQvxg7C24pnFzhV22micTOn-tN33C0rXpVxj6YptUWnQ0-1OXCZ0AgD-DuHWUfUIUTQ48RMfvcY-s9vkCQUVBBBkcBXFdMlP1drgpVEpO8p68UcAtESikjr9ZCwo/s1600/IMG_1677.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfj77FPgoobE6Z7y2VQvxg7C24pnFzhV22micTOn-tN33C0rXpVxj6YptUWnQ0-1OXCZ0AgD-DuHWUfUIUTQ48RMfvcY-s9vkCQUVBBBkcBXFdMlP1drgpVEpO8p68UcAtESikjr9ZCwo/s400/IMG_1677.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I think for now my ventures to the city
have been boxed up and placed on the shelf. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">And that’s OK.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_spxxas1-eqGRzjFyyWJlIPMxxNoThNHlOzIn0rc72B5MIysYTHWj2-etjuBXUNrjLQDTzhkysFsqz1zi99_bgjA2dDz3irFLNIzEju1aKuovlehSk3t16LyLfhjOn92Hzy3Qwik3IWY/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_spxxas1-eqGRzjFyyWJlIPMxxNoThNHlOzIn0rc72B5MIysYTHWj2-etjuBXUNrjLQDTzhkysFsqz1zi99_bgjA2dDz3irFLNIzEju1aKuovlehSk3t16LyLfhjOn92Hzy3Qwik3IWY/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-80737621298445788162012-04-26T14:19:00.001+10:002012-04-26T14:19:21.196+10:006 secrets your husband doesn’t want you to know<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZlASkh0ulgFJPxZatrvYagIddEVPyoPCJZ96AS1vs6RU9YVwAb7tWRtkeECz0MDl_w147zUaOqb-fa3BTpkXFLURd5_ct_wvwHYmWZwHL3aXdE7tH48G_np-J9-ESneFw-Fb0R-NBP4/s1600/secrets-in-online-casino.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZlASkh0ulgFJPxZatrvYagIddEVPyoPCJZ96AS1vs6RU9YVwAb7tWRtkeECz0MDl_w147zUaOqb-fa3BTpkXFLURd5_ct_wvwHYmWZwHL3aXdE7tH48G_np-J9-ESneFw-Fb0R-NBP4/s320/secrets-in-online-casino.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I thought I would share some sneaky things my
husband tries to keep from me. I don’t think he realizes just how finely tuned
our female intuition is when it comes to hiding things from us.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you recognize any of these “secrets”?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No, that was not the dog’s bottom that just emitted
the foulest, eye watering, deathly wind. It was your husband.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</div>
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<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He knows where that so and so is. He just asked you
where it was in the hope that you would go and get it for him.</span></li>
</ul>
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That silent pause, just before his answer to your
question, was his way of coming up with an answer you’d like to hear. It’s not
really what he was first thinking.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Those two beers he’s having with his mate down at
the local pub, is really four beers, plus maybe a couple more. But who’s
counting?</span></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The reason why you have a dwindling supply of
cutlery is because he’s taking the forks and spoons to work with lunch, and
forgetting to bring them home.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</div>
<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On a serious note- he is actually scared out of his mind of failing
his family. As has been for thousands of years, his “Hunter” instincts add fire
to his fear of financial insecurity. He wants to provide for his family but is
so worried that he will let us down. (This is one of the reasons I'm so in love with my husband)</span></li>
</ul>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgblBSRMhSrbCPYsSirG6Bw5cVH4EKDQbErkSMaQvBE5M-atgeqGHVh_ddiZcJZDmSMXV98hVUkO7p-eGVtDxl_A4HQUo2UT9qach3itYwwsx3qCPRQv6nQMwBaJYCtLNI8uiGF1yXIZPc/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgblBSRMhSrbCPYsSirG6Bw5cVH4EKDQbErkSMaQvBE5M-atgeqGHVh_ddiZcJZDmSMXV98hVUkO7p-eGVtDxl_A4HQUo2UT9qach3itYwwsx3qCPRQv6nQMwBaJYCtLNI8uiGF1yXIZPc/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What secrets does <b>YOUR</b> husband think he's keeping from you?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-91269664626186040942012-04-24T16:26:00.002+10:002012-04-24T16:26:48.668+10:00Dear Friends, THANK YOU<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSlK-hHBGHMyOmADSeUnhuDPZQxZV4eR9K4K_VtouaL2CIWP06E2SL2QySIgY4CvbrsSej7luotFnj67M9bEcMkDgGwz57ACmb1wvh78RS0ucygXkQO0rOkYuHazaCznIO-LPCZqBYHGw/s1600/7098597-a-heart-shape-paint-spatter-splatter-effect-painting-abstract.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSlK-hHBGHMyOmADSeUnhuDPZQxZV4eR9K4K_VtouaL2CIWP06E2SL2QySIgY4CvbrsSej7luotFnj67M9bEcMkDgGwz57ACmb1wvh78RS0ucygXkQO0rOkYuHazaCznIO-LPCZqBYHGw/s320/7098597-a-heart-shape-paint-spatter-splatter-effect-painting-abstract.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday I wrote a post about my lack of
self-confidence at the moment, when it comes to writing my blog <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/dear-seed-of-self-doubt.html" target="_blank">(Dear Seed of Self-Doubt)</a>. Are people reading me?
Am I a good enough writer? What if I don’t have what it takes?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of my greatest fears is that what I am
writing is disappearing down an infinite black hole, as if I’m sitting in
complete darkness and there’s no one around me.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Well all my fears were dispelled when I
woke up this morning to find that not only did I receive some beautiful
comments and messages, but also more people read my post than ever before.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now the last thing I want to get hung up on
is how many people are reading, so just to know that <b>YOU</b> are reading this makes
me smile.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However the <b>BEST</b> part of my day, which had
been lousy until about midday, (among other things the lady at NIB spoke to me
like I was an idiot, and then I cried), was the most beautiful message written by a wonderful friend of
mine from my mothers group.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I hope she doesn’t mind, but I’d love to
share it with you.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>Oh Melissa, unfortunately this is how
I have spent most of my life! Always doubting and looking for validation from
everyone...anyone! You are one very talented lady, you've found your passion
and a way to express your soul. I on the other hand, since leaving my world of
corporate career success, am still searching, yearning to find 'my place' now
that I'm a mother. Self doubt can be debilitating, I know this from years of
experience. Your self-doubt just means to me that you are human, but please
don't give in to it, don't let it take hold; it is very hard to break the
habit. I don’t know if I’ve told you but you inspire me, you are someone I look
up to as a mother and a beautiful expressive soul. And now if you as a person,
who I see as motivated, passionate and with purpose, can have self doubt then that
just gives me hope. Even though blogging may not be ‘my thing’ you make me
confident that soon I will discover what ‘my thing’ is even amongst the chaos
in my mind.</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With friends like this wonderful
woman, who cares if my blog fails miserably and winds up covered in cobwebs in the furthest
recesses of the blogosphere? I am so blessed to know someone as beautiful as her, let
alone have her as a new friend in my life.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFb1GpLAiW6jdHD61Liny7QZEQpjirgBOKGsKd8Nvp94N6vV4592-J50UUJOmZDqT06O9iVCuqh5zm41mFqahiWlLCKNsFJvgi-J6gwVfTelF6KZ8MUpG7pk-3wQ9BirGP_fPSlsjXys/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyFb1GpLAiW6jdHD61Liny7QZEQpjirgBOKGsKd8Nvp94N6vV4592-J50UUJOmZDqT06O9iVCuqh5zm41mFqahiWlLCKNsFJvgi-J6gwVfTelF6KZ8MUpG7pk-3wQ9BirGP_fPSlsjXys/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Thank you</b> to everyone who reads me. It means so much.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="color: #1a1a1a;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-29960456849664846672012-04-23T14:19:00.000+10:002012-04-23T14:19:38.057+10:00Dear Seed of Self-Doubt,<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkgfM92i9FHukkMB_SMYCTbQYhn2vmSsdtKHutFFVsvJcdto-_o6DiCS0O70lzdeNYWr21uXCk5ZIbzcVwLXy775PY7xtjeLp8ioK5XovnS6IFJ69xhl3ObvG_3r-c8WtJsQ_IDLVVA4/s1600/hand-holding-sprouting-seed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSkgfM92i9FHukkMB_SMYCTbQYhn2vmSsdtKHutFFVsvJcdto-_o6DiCS0O70lzdeNYWr21uXCk5ZIbzcVwLXy775PY7xtjeLp8ioK5XovnS6IFJ69xhl3ObvG_3r-c8WtJsQ_IDLVVA4/s400/hand-holding-sprouting-seed.jpg" width="353" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://kimtuson.com/2011/03/winter-into-spring-and-the-wei-wu-wei/hand-holding-sprouting-seed/" target="_blank">source</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Seed of Self-Doubt,</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When did you take root in my mind and
flourish with such velocity? You caught me off guard.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Do you remember when I worked for Mimco? It
was my first week on the job and I had to present to over one hundred people?
You threatened to dig your roots into my self-confidence, but alas I won,
keeping you at bay whilst I convinced myself I was made for this role. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then there was the birth of my first baby.
I’d never really been around babies before, had never been interested, and my
friends and family feared you would play chicken in my head, worried I would
second guess myself as a mother. But again, you failed; I took to my new role
as mother like a duck to water.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But now, as I start my newly self-assigned
role, as author of my blog, you have firmly taken root and flourished.
Initially just a small seed of self-doubt, you have now threatened to invade
the furthest recesses of my self-confidence. You have me backing away timidly,
as though I may be stung by a poisonous thorn. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m not good enough to be in
this league of fabulous writers. I don’t belong here.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When in my life have I ever felt this way?
Why have you decided to plant yourself now, of all times, when I have finally
found something that I am passionate about? Is that why? Because I love what I
do? Please remove your firmly entrenched roots from my psyche and </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>GO AWAY!</b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know I can do this. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u>Don’t let me get the
weed kill out!</u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u><br /></u></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><u><br /></u></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HFGwjUBMNrMtMuvsYY9ccT7XupA14FF_wnjgktlpSvWzyZu9Q3GqJI2jGKTvoAzzCVLAkOOs9fuox0suWWWUkh1z_EoRJf0mtG5USiqk4mKn72L2H4tTQ-IutfiLV6pUvr6R5wGA6sc/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9HFGwjUBMNrMtMuvsYY9ccT7XupA14FF_wnjgktlpSvWzyZu9Q3GqJI2jGKTvoAzzCVLAkOOs9fuox0suWWWUkh1z_EoRJf0mtG5USiqk4mKn72L2H4tTQ-IutfiLV6pUvr6R5wGA6sc/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span lang="EN-US"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">I can do this, can't I?</span></b></span></div>
<br />Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-52054351928050048242012-04-19T15:56:00.000+10:002012-04-19T15:56:22.992+10:00An old lady? When did this happen?<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Can you see the lady at her desk? Usually
reserved for books and paperwork, tonight she is sitting on the wicker chair,
sewing pieces of fabric together on her sewing machine, with a level of detail
reserved for professional seamstresses.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There she sits, her feet enveloped within
her fluffy bed socks, warm against the cool chill of the wooden floor boards.
Her foot ever so gently presses down on the foot pedal, making sure she gets
the stitches just right.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You see the project she is working on is a
very important one. A beautiful pink and red patchwork quilt for a new baby in
the family. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is not the first quilt she has made.
No. This will be number four. A newfound craft that she takes pleasure in, that
helps fill her evenings with interest and delight, rather than watch the
television.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Are you imagining an elderly lady? Perhaps
she is wrapped in a robe, hair ten shades of grey?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>NO! IT'S ME!</b></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Why is it then, that when I take a look at myself of an
evening, sitting at my sewing machine, trying to create something beautiful and
personal for my sisters baby, do I feel as though all of a sudden, out of
nowhere, I’ve turned into an old woman?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have not exaggerated my description. Yes
I wear fluffy bed socks. Hey, my feet get really cold! But have I really turned
into an old woman?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHjVzjWUmg2eZeXjtNG5iGfx8vWHS6GurAlMrF73TuIXyEDYOxip_L7s1zlxsst5PtCBSSFtXs-PUQuPPxaY3HLgNeGxqvbGlxnWbGqD9cOzkNnJyMXqHgtR1Ez1dSAjclB5SCvhxoAA/s1600/IMG_1639.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQHjVzjWUmg2eZeXjtNG5iGfx8vWHS6GurAlMrF73TuIXyEDYOxip_L7s1zlxsst5PtCBSSFtXs-PUQuPPxaY3HLgNeGxqvbGlxnWbGqD9cOzkNnJyMXqHgtR1Ez1dSAjclB5SCvhxoAA/s640/IMG_1639.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My last quilt, "Field of Flowers" is my favourite!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My new love of making patchwork quilts is
one I don’t tell many people. And if I do, I reiterate, as I will to you now,
that I like to make the modern style ones, shabby “French Chic” and <a href="http://flossieteacakes.blogspot.com.au/2011/03/tutorial-how-to-make-patchwork-quilt.html" target="_blank">Flossie Teacake's</a> beautiful baby quilts. I am very proud of
them, and I’m proud to say that my husband supports me in my new hobby (even though he also likes to make fun). He sometimes ask's if I’d like to take a drive to Berry, “you know, to go to that
shop you like, and buy some fabric”. God love him.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this is me. Getting older. (oh, and happy to take orders!)</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All of a sudden, have you found you've become an older version of yourself?</span></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-44861699810555427402012-04-18T16:06:00.000+10:002012-04-18T16:06:20.597+10:00My fearful worrier, a.k.a Cling-On<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the sci-fi movie <b>Star Trek</b>, there lives an alien
race of villains known as Klingon’s. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now I must admit, I’ve not seen any of the movies, they’re not really my
thing. However I can’t help but draw comparison to my own little villain, my son Max.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Where the Klingon’s are fearsome warriors,
my son is a fearful worrier, or shall we say, a Cling-on?</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0_kouxJyKxoUd_SwMDbYeMD7Dd7NvWenEccijp0rPbt77rBhP9gPLPhdfrlczknqhd2YFvj7x5KCRO1oPlg6Mkj9sznj5JGtNSbXjofqZNv5_Nt1R6nNMOiZTScc7K76nBiJPXVSC2E/s1600/IMG_2176-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK0_kouxJyKxoUd_SwMDbYeMD7Dd7NvWenEccijp0rPbt77rBhP9gPLPhdfrlczknqhd2YFvj7x5KCRO1oPlg6Mkj9sznj5JGtNSbXjofqZNv5_Nt1R6nNMOiZTScc7K76nBiJPXVSC2E/s400/IMG_2176-1.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not someone you’d call an expert on
children and their behaviours. In actual fact, I had never really been around
small children before, other than my own, for any considerable length of time. But at
fifteen months I would have thought that the “separation anxiety” stage would
have surely passed by now?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am constantly prizing my clingon’s
fingers from around my legs. He pulls at my pants with eyes that are pleading,
“pick me up mummy!” Simple tasks such as brushing my teeth, putting on a bra or
going to the toilet have become <i><u>mission impossible's</u></i> with my little cling-on
“clinging on” for dear life.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><u>Now excuse me</u></b>, but after the undignified
experience of childbirth, I do believe I’ve earned the right to wee in private, without a small fascinated face peering into the bowl.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I've no doubt, that there will come a time, when I will wish those days hadn't passed, when I lovingly remember being needed, wanted and adored by my little one. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>But for now, can I PLEASE just have one moment to myself? </b></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXy5yQLEgNFh4dRlfWTTCFe8I4ZPTgqNwp8UOvbWd1TdGuhad1milBeEtNuoR35YxjjesavSmNwCNkEjemch_MGv3i2_Mpvk3EJ0GuJz85HFDzp3gbGzmk9lIHO9dtIZJJwuLC5WGKjx0/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXy5yQLEgNFh4dRlfWTTCFe8I4ZPTgqNwp8UOvbWd1TdGuhad1milBeEtNuoR35YxjjesavSmNwCNkEjemch_MGv3i2_Mpvk3EJ0GuJz85HFDzp3gbGzmk9lIHO9dtIZJJwuLC5WGKjx0/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-51118962468586373502012-04-17T16:34:00.000+10:002012-04-17T16:34:09.184+10:00The loss of a beautiful baby boy<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl91l7BKEg34JEsvID0z_uHI5W9lGlLUqUg-Yl4GBT1ciqma2vdORRGI1o-qri5MFief1wj14Ef19VzH0f9RIl3VKWv-WwQMLTROiwRFS8ETGncFWLWASzlag-SDz43p9_WexBB-C85TA/s1600/IMG_2172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl91l7BKEg34JEsvID0z_uHI5W9lGlLUqUg-Yl4GBT1ciqma2vdORRGI1o-qri5MFief1wj14Ef19VzH0f9RIl3VKWv-WwQMLTROiwRFS8ETGncFWLWASzlag-SDz43p9_WexBB-C85TA/s400/IMG_2172.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After twenty hours of labour, through
natural birth, a beautiful baby boy was born.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Imagine it. Have you been there? The
birthing suite with the soft pastel walls, dim lighting, the soft hushed
tones of the midwives, and the posters depicting tiny babies in their mothers
arms, promoting "breast is best". </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That final push before your baby will be in
your arms at last!</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Only there is no sound. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Only silence. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Silence broken by the hushed voice of the
doctor, “I’m so sorry for your loss”.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I still cry when I think about it. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I remember it like it was yesterday. My
husband and I were out shopping. Our son Max, just three weeks old, lay
sleeping in his pram, wrapped in layers of muslin, the labour still fresh in
our memory.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My husband received the call. Our friend’s
baby had died. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After twelve hours of excruciating labour,
the baby’s heartbeat had stopped. It was unexplainable. The doctors declared
that her baby had died “in-utero”. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Can you imagine how that must have felt?
There was no time to process it. The contractions were still coming thick and fast. A
baby needed to be born.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was eight heart-wrenching hours after
the shattering revelation, through harrowing contractions, when their son was
finally born. He was gently wrapped in a hospital blanket, and placed upon her
chest.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They never tell you how the feather light weight
of a tiny newborn baby can crush your heart and soul.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What happens now?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Isn’t it every parents dream to take that
first trip in the car with their baby, a trip home from hospital to their
beautifully decorated nursery, where furniture, linen and toys have been chosen
with thoughtful love and care. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What happens now? </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A drive home in silence? A closed door at
the end of the hall where dreams lay shattered behind it? </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then like a twisting knife in the chest, a cruel
reminder that mother nature lays upon you, the milk that was intended for your
baby arrives. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sadness and grief my husband and I felt
for our devastated friends poured over us like acid rain. We stood in David
Jones, the sobs erupting from us both, causing shoppers to stop and stare. We didn’t
care. At that moment we were overwhelmed with gratitude that our son had
arrived safely and was alive and healthy.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As friends' of someone who has
devastatingly dealt with the death of her baby, here are some reminders that may help to lessen the inevitable sadness that follows such a tragedy.</span></span></div>
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<ul>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cry, as often and as long as you need to.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Denial, isolation, anger and depression are
all normal steps in the grieving process</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fathers grieve too.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We don’t have to face the world alone.</span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Know that no one who hasn’t lost a baby can
understand what it feels like.</span></li>
</ul>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The wonderful book <a href="http://www.whattoexpect.com/what-to-expect/landing-page.aspx" target="_blank">What to Expect When You're Expecting</a> has a really helpful chapter dedicated to the loss of a baby.</span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like a gift from the angels, our friend is
pregnant again with her second child. We know that this baby can never take the
place of the one that was lost, but it will be just as loved and just as adored. By all.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VieT1yLP2Lx_9Ttyvvzfk0lVZFEaq4lc3mzU-wltZLztzVLEzAGVRSkvJoWjfLGORqIyqd7BPJm1iv7nc60SHfSyCeEXZeM09RePGH8UDbKOQEgoXL5vmjCdAHQ5gbiisv6H2y_h5po/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2VieT1yLP2Lx_9Ttyvvzfk0lVZFEaq4lc3mzU-wltZLztzVLEzAGVRSkvJoWjfLGORqIyqd7BPJm1iv7nc60SHfSyCeEXZeM09RePGH8UDbKOQEgoXL5vmjCdAHQ5gbiisv6H2y_h5po/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your comments below are always gratefully received.</span>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-46374948892751787242012-04-16T22:18:00.000+10:002012-04-16T22:23:42.652+10:00Please vote for me!<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like taking those first steps through the gate at your new school, it feels strange to be the new kid on the block again.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been nominated for the Sydney Writers' Centre "New Blog" division of the Peoples Choice awards!</span></div>
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<a href="http://www.sydneywriterscentre.com.au/bloggingcomp/peopleschoice.html" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img src="http://sydneywriterscentre.com.au/bloggingcomp/images/BABC-vote.gif" /></span></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have absolute certainty that I will not win, however It would be so wonderful just to get a few votes!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Could you please take two minutes out and <a href="http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/BAB2012" target="_blank">VOTE FOR ME HERE</a>. </span></div>
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THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2HayA-X2uMl6Hpffz-mSCrFg-F_sdLbhvQSkhDDfOAuLuz-wkTIod0ixe6JojVrtwxD2mWa4IBGU-Wnnw8S29E0z0fbyffemP7sEcnNh5ra9P1D5d6E1vsDa_4_0egN4mOgVw2Jft9I/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2HayA-X2uMl6Hpffz-mSCrFg-F_sdLbhvQSkhDDfOAuLuz-wkTIod0ixe6JojVrtwxD2mWa4IBGU-Wnnw8S29E0z0fbyffemP7sEcnNh5ra9P1D5d6E1vsDa_4_0egN4mOgVw2Jft9I/s1600/Signature.png" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-33242092422045071442012-04-16T13:21:00.000+10:002012-04-16T13:21:38.588+10:00My wedding speech<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaT3lOKSTk82p5pGM4z8oD5Om65jvDMfdfbgAC2No3EnGWls4YOy1LyTCydgp1CGxSQ3-kjszK6xX_uil3QkPJ_ieJSrhUctMwyuBZBzUWjkw34MDVSWrLGjlm65rBomOfYgTT1heuzGk/s1600/MC-255b-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaT3lOKSTk82p5pGM4z8oD5Om65jvDMfdfbgAC2No3EnGWls4YOy1LyTCydgp1CGxSQ3-kjszK6xX_uil3QkPJ_ieJSrhUctMwyuBZBzUWjkw34MDVSWrLGjlm65rBomOfYgTT1heuzGk/s640/MC-255b-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Wedding Day</td></tr>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's been six months since I married the man of my dreams, and I often reflect on the day and how amazing it was for both of us.</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will never forget my speech for as long as I live. It was predominantly directed to my husband and it left him wiping away a tear or two (I'm sure he won't mind me sharing that!).</span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wedding speeches can be very personal, but I will always want to shout from the rooftops just how much I love him. </span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So please, read on...</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>Four years ago I met you, and although we
were only friends for the first two years, when we decided to go on an official
date, it didn’t take long for me to fall in love with you. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>And I will always love you.</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>I fall in love with you a little more every
day. Not because you buy me beautiful flowers, or Lorna Jane outfits, but
because of the little things that you do. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>(and just so you all know, I’m going to
cry!)</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>I fall in love with you a little more every
day because of the care you take when you change our son’s nappy, and the way
you put your clothes for the next morning on the spare bed so you won’t wake me
up.</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>You’re my best friend and you will be
forever.</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>Some people ask me where I’m from, and
that’s a very difficult question to answer. I was born in Wollongong, we moved
to north Queensland, I went to school in Campbelltown, lived in Dublin for a
while, then I moved to Melbourne and bought my own place, and now I’m back in
Wollongong again. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>So where’s home? Home is wherever you are.
With you I am home.</b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>In 1985 a singer named Robbie Hart sang a
song called “I want to grow old with you”. </b></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b><br /></b></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #351c75; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><b>Grow old with me, and I will love you for
the rest of our lives.</b></i></span></span></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyo1tj-4sQNWki2ybw7hiTsIMiycYnjactb-o0W_H2TUKdui6Pmj5gecaUq6YHOXNap9XxZI_2dlfOmjpMA0JS_giviQ2MSqoM65b9pGM2xvUZUNVfhu-ruNtJDZIBn_QJx5W7cpoPEEw/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyo1tj-4sQNWki2ybw7hiTsIMiycYnjactb-o0W_H2TUKdui6Pmj5gecaUq6YHOXNap9XxZI_2dlfOmjpMA0JS_giviQ2MSqoM65b9pGM2xvUZUNVfhu-ruNtJDZIBn_QJx5W7cpoPEEw/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>What was the favourite part of <i><u>your</u></i> speech, </b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>or a wedding speech you have heard?</b></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-18083049035491618052012-04-12T12:38:00.000+10:002012-04-12T12:38:12.351+10:00Money, money, money.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m despondent, but I know I shouldn’t be.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s reprehensible to have these feelings. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There my gorgeous son sits, with the sun
beaming down upon his shoulders, on the floor of his toy-filled room, in a
house where love, happiness and laughter fill every square, renovated inch. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He is as healthy as an ox. He snacks on a
ripe banana, enjoying the feeling as he squishes it between his fingers. He
eats everything we put in front of him and is never short on nutritious food.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have an amazing, thoughtful husband and
we live in a modest house where the rosemary-scented meal cooking in our
fabulous kitchen fills my lungs with desire. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So why am I despondent? It’s money. Or lack
of. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIw3TGpVkn3zxXcORoyf8Am-05oGDK7T433KfE65WZHS1X4l-V0humJPgTkC3z2f09XWtjKLItXi-KlGm3JposstcrztIqNO-lTL0YzgZmewsOeJeIkVaeq7TOD0uPzx-eoPYXo4_Nfh8/s1600/woman_holding_dress_and_shopping_bags_zz074012-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIw3TGpVkn3zxXcORoyf8Am-05oGDK7T433KfE65WZHS1X4l-V0humJPgTkC3z2f09XWtjKLItXi-KlGm3JposstcrztIqNO-lTL0YzgZmewsOeJeIkVaeq7TOD0uPzx-eoPYXo4_Nfh8/s320/woman_holding_dress_and_shopping_bags_zz074012-1.jpg" width="174" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During my <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/p/life-before-kids.html" target="_blank">"life before kids",</a> I worked full
time and earned a great income. As
a risk adverse generation X’er I saved as much as I could and spent little. But
when I did spend, it was when I wanted to spend and on what. The latest fashion! Soft
leather boots that feel like you're not wearing them, tailored jackets to slim my waistline, and maxi-dresses with exotic prints to die for. I
looked fabulous!</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Living on one wage means we can no longer
afford to flitter away our income on those “luxury” purchases that I once
made. For the first twelve months I resigned myself to the fact that the purse
strings would tighten, as my wardrobe would be constantly “re-invented”.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sixteen months after leaving paid work,
like two hands around a choked throat, the purse strings are leaving their mark
on my freedom. I can no longer spend a day in town “window shopping” without
leaving miserable, wishing I could just buy that …... </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This sentiment goes against my experiences
whilst <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/african-adventure.html" target="_blank">volunteering in Africa</a> and whilst writing my post <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/how-much-really-is-enough.html" target="_blank">how much really IS enough?</a> But despite my internal agreement to live frugally for a while, the lack of
disposable income leaves me melancholy.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Somehow, whilst at a friends BBQ the other
day, a full glass of red wine decided to leave the comfort of my glass and land with
resolve down the front of my top. I jokingly remarked to my friend, “Well this
gives me a good excuse to go and buy another top!” but I knew deep in my heart that
buying a new top was a treat I was destined to only dream about.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The choice to go back to full time work or
stay at home and bring up my child is an extremely difficult one, with many pro’s
and cons. A decision that many of my friends have agonized long and hard over.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But for now, I am resigned to pull out that
glorious dress from 2001 and make it look brand new, just so I can devote my
days to my little man.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyo1tj-4sQNWki2ybw7hiTsIMiycYnjactb-o0W_H2TUKdui6Pmj5gecaUq6YHOXNap9XxZI_2dlfOmjpMA0JS_giviQ2MSqoM65b9pGM2xvUZUNVfhu-ruNtJDZIBn_QJx5W7cpoPEEw/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyo1tj-4sQNWki2ybw7hiTsIMiycYnjactb-o0W_H2TUKdui6Pmj5gecaUq6YHOXNap9XxZI_2dlfOmjpMA0JS_giviQ2MSqoM65b9pGM2xvUZUNVfhu-ruNtJDZIBn_QJx5W7cpoPEEw/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>How have <i><u>you</u></i> overcome these feelings?</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Please share your story with us.</b></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-75798426313887237902012-04-10T12:56:00.000+10:002012-04-10T13:10:43.188+10:00New friends!Ah, the anticipation when you open
a new book. Just like the smell of a new car, the clean, crisp pages invite you to experience a new and exciting journey.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I too have set off on a new journey. Earlier this year I announced to my husband
that I was starting a blog. My husband works evenings which means I'm home alone, so unless I wanted to sit by myself in front of the television, like a lifeless blob, watching mind-numbing reality shows, I needed to start a hobby.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">So akin to starting a new book, I eagerly
threw myself into a world that I really knew little about. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In my previous posts, <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/mothers-groupa-social-necessity.html" target="_blank">Mothers Group, A social necessity?</a> and <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/when-friendship-ends.html" target="_blank">When friendships end</a>, I recounted the difficulties of developing new
friendships and the devastation of losing some.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Never in my wildest dreams did I think I
would gain the friendships I have formed in just a short few weeks over the
wonderful World Wide Web.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoSJ-CMOLGZDE7yY5QJWPVUKWC-sbU2iUgLPeUpwBZNvrny_lv4K52gOx2povU-d6t-No5QhEsVs1xnMke3azdZCMyNaPeTXuvKx9YopA8efGG9FbmIOBGlt07DQiyjdZtfZ8aAT0jAw/s1600/friends-1.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNoSJ-CMOLGZDE7yY5QJWPVUKWC-sbU2iUgLPeUpwBZNvrny_lv4K52gOx2povU-d6t-No5QhEsVs1xnMke3azdZCMyNaPeTXuvKx9YopA8efGG9FbmIOBGlt07DQiyjdZtfZ8aAT0jAw/s320/friends-1.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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Do you find the difficulties with real life friendships
are that obstacles get in the way? Your friends have children too. There's soccer practice. Kids fall sick.
You only have one car. They live far away. If you can overcome the obstacles, you might get lucky and catch
up with your friend once every couple of months.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have discovered that the most wonderful
thing about the internet and blogging is that no matter when you have spare
time, when you sit yourself down in front of that computer, your friends are there
waiting for you. They may have left you a message, you can read about their
latest experiences, or you could even meet that new friend just waiting around the corner!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Take for example Tork from
<a href="http://torkona.blogspot.com/">torkona.blogspot.com</a>. This kind new dad has decided to “unofficially” become my
mentor. I Googled “dad blog” one day and came across his site. Like an
awestruck school kid I emailed him asking for some simple advice and
feedback. What I received in
return was like a virtual embrace!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLUA3oL-syP1-F-MnAk90U7fCbhbUiZy3Y66ZJ75TJaWnZ7P0iSGvzWdSGw2itTHPDvo0sFlwxk1Yk4JdgBSVx3Pa9ADQBjhfKU37p6y2-VsT982ginnnenNZqTwhJ_fwDEq14BFlKr8/s1600/tsig2.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="110" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLUA3oL-syP1-F-MnAk90U7fCbhbUiZy3Y66ZJ75TJaWnZ7P0iSGvzWdSGw2itTHPDvo0sFlwxk1Yk4JdgBSVx3Pa9ADQBjhfKU37p6y2-VsT982ginnnenNZqTwhJ_fwDEq14BFlKr8/s200/tsig2.gif" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://torkona.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/check-out-from-boardroom-to-babies.html" target="_blank">Torkona</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then there is Mandy from <a href="http://www.alittlespacelikehome.com/" target="_blank">A Little Space Like Home</a>. I don’t think she realizes but she was one of the first people to read
my blog and comment on my posts. As a new kid on the block that’s like winning the Easter Egg raffle!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The very well known Eden from <a href="http://www.edenriley.com/" target="_blank">Edenland</a> and
the slightly lesser known Caroline from <a href="http://www.parkconfessional.com/" target="_blank">Park Confessional</a> (who is about to give birth to her second child!) are the writers I aspire to. They are my industry standard. But both have taken the time to say hi and reciprocate my "LIKE"s and "TWEETS"which I believe is unwritten social media etiquette.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I'm someone who doesn't like to blow their own trumpet, so Zanni from <a href="http://motherink.org/2012/04/05/mothers-group-a-social-necessity/" target="_blank">Mother Ink</a> grabbed one of my posts with both hands and
shared it with her readers. Thanks Zanni!</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US">And to all the readers who have taken the time to comment and make me realise I'm not just talking to myself here, THANK YOU!</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPLOUPTpZVczYxp9ntXbr3Fg6nJByqx4ESKo5-KsG84q4uaXsErPbIJOSYzd9my4TsZc51156iakMou5hSdl7xcFH0HaFr-q5Sk-00dZNku8phcSLemgPNkfSpMc3T-MofoXXec9LD14/s1600/new-friends-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRPLOUPTpZVczYxp9ntXbr3Fg6nJByqx4ESKo5-KsG84q4uaXsErPbIJOSYzd9my4TsZc51156iakMou5hSdl7xcFH0HaFr-q5Sk-00dZNku8phcSLemgPNkfSpMc3T-MofoXXec9LD14/s1600/new-friends-1.jpg" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Feeling like the new kid on the block is
not much fun, but with the courtesy and kindness that these people have shown
me, this new chapter of my life is set to be amazing!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaArld2LoOjByhPc3sy_gYRRIXEwyXB6K2Q7b0JsjMp6NXWN-icrK4P6_UcYbYNEoOTLFtGD-HEZ0WupAW2Fa5_WM4luwYoBB-cmLb_3a0YKdQr9m8K5EJQnT_I23Ew0emyxA46RqpmS0/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaArld2LoOjByhPc3sy_gYRRIXEwyXB6K2Q7b0JsjMp6NXWN-icrK4P6_UcYbYNEoOTLFtGD-HEZ0WupAW2Fa5_WM4luwYoBB-cmLb_3a0YKdQr9m8K5EJQnT_I23Ew0emyxA46RqpmS0/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><span lang="EN-US"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><b>Thank you so much to my new friends.</b></span></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-17822721276620229262012-04-08T08:32:00.000+10:002012-04-08T21:38:05.389+10:00Nairobi to Arusha. The dusty track less travelled.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In October 2009 I was a single 34 year old woman determined to experience a grand adventure. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I saved up my money and climbed Mt Kilimanjaro in Tanzania, worked in an orphanage in Mombasa, Kenya, and visited my World Vision sponsor child in Ethiopia.</span></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #666666; font-family: Verdana, Geneva, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is my account of my experience travelling from Nairobi to Arusha, one of the scariest moments of my life!</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US">The silver bullet smashed through the glass
window at lightening speed. It ricocheted off the wall and lay spent, on the
well-worn carpet of my hotel room. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-e5GezEXDXRaeqG6s3hXd-y2nfrkO3OU9OrDunbqmlkyn-rR3ZiJEURdI9xyzteY3ptMxNVPvaOX6KPacIghKt2_kapRf-1L8ZPelYjeCv6Nt8lrbCk-HdWwRht3GRPU2WUyn9KDh7Qg/s1600/Bullet+Hole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-e5GezEXDXRaeqG6s3hXd-y2nfrkO3OU9OrDunbqmlkyn-rR3ZiJEURdI9xyzteY3ptMxNVPvaOX6KPacIghKt2_kapRf-1L8ZPelYjeCv6Nt8lrbCk-HdWwRht3GRPU2WUyn9KDh7Qg/s400/Bullet+Hole.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view outside my hotel, through the bullet hole.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span lang="EN-US">“<span style="text-transform: uppercase;">What the hell am I doing here</span>?”</span></b><span lang="EN-US"> my inner voice screamed inside my head? Why on earth did I chose to
come to Nairobi, on my own, to stay in a budget hotel in one of the most dangerous cities in Africa?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">What the f**k was I thinking?</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Thankfully, the bullet had made its visit
to my room prior to my stay, however the management’s choice to leave the
window in its frame along with its splintered reminder did not make me feel any
less safe. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">(This was intentionally left out during the
“I’ve arrived safely” call to my mother)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The roar of the traffic below was
deafening. The muffled beat of African rap found its way into my bones from the
pavement below as the horn blaring drivers fought their way across streets littered
with rushing pedestrians. The toxic smell of petrol fumes made me light-headed, even from up here.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxF1NOdRCwl27sQw4S533RnP-HTae8oNwqVzu7MQla77mD1zXpR4hLBsCEhbvW3q28gl6U-edAWBq57hviIH1UVclenJQ7SsvdQOmXJE1zOH2M6ejZcQKkexiae-WkPVn7drVNsC86YM/s1600/Nairobi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZxF1NOdRCwl27sQw4S533RnP-HTae8oNwqVzu7MQla77mD1zXpR4hLBsCEhbvW3q28gl6U-edAWBq57hviIH1UVclenJQ7SsvdQOmXJE1zOH2M6ejZcQKkexiae-WkPVn7drVNsC86YM/s400/Nairobi.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hustle and bustle of Nairobi</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">That evening, I decided to forget the
obligatory “cultural experience” of my first ever meal in Africa and I sprinted,
as fast as I could, across the road to the Hilton for dinner. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Shame on me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">That evening, as I lay in the suffocating darkness,
exhausted from my thirty hour trip, upon the concave bed that had seen much
better times, had I mistakenly heard someone enter my room? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Oh my god. There was someone in my room! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Was it room service? The hotel didn’t have
any. Were they here to steal from me? Or something much more sinister? As the
primal scream left my lungs, whoever it was made their escape. (There's a reason they call
it Nairobbery)</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">With a chair safely tucked underneath the
door handle, I finally fell fast asleep. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">As I gingerly stepped onto the mini bus the
next morning, I couldn’t help but feel a wonderful sense of excitement. I was
in for quite a journey. A nine-hour bus ride across some of the driest, most inhospitable
countryside that Kenya had to offer.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The trip from Nairobi to Arusha (at the
foothills of Mt Kilimanjaro) was the most teeth clenching, nail biting, knuckle
whitening transportation experience of my life! Ninety percent of the roads we
traveled were dirt or rock, and on many occasions I was sure the driver was
about to roll the bus. There were more than a few fishtails and skids, and I’m
sure we lost contact with the ground numerous times.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">The terrain gradually changed from
scattered scrubland to grey dust, a lone tree visible from miles away stood
like a beacon for sundrenched animals.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGU2xsSfOHZeAqUp55sqFkfFlNs5OjfDLKqZsQCxPvcwpoi_LmcGoZLQfUEhq6JdEzsTgx0AvN51R5xAiVuvx0928nQ4Wu6gOIYTPvv0petnhY4PeK0-pOzWWPoKwXcRI3JkXYstLfXz0/s1600/Kenya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGU2xsSfOHZeAqUp55sqFkfFlNs5OjfDLKqZsQCxPvcwpoi_LmcGoZLQfUEhq6JdEzsTgx0AvN51R5xAiVuvx0928nQ4Wu6gOIYTPvv0petnhY4PeK0-pOzWWPoKwXcRI3JkXYstLfXz0/s640/Kenya.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The changing terrain of Kenya</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I could feel the grey dust entering my
lungs, coating my hair and finding refuge in the lines of my skin. I was caked
in the arid land of Africa. People live here. Zebras ate at the small tufts of
grass that inexplicably found root in the dust. Masai people walked barefoot
alongside our bus, brightly coloured mirages in an otherwise colourless world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After crossing over the Kenya/Tanzania
border, it wasn’t long before the dry and dusty air gave way to humid, fertile
land. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">After eight hours of travel, when we
rounded a bend and glimpsed a new mountain, larger than the last, I was sure I
was staring up at Mt Kilimanjaro, but on we drove. When my eyes finally landed on the largest
mountain in Africa, my stomach dropped to the floor. In an instant I realized
all the others I had mistaken for Mt Kili were hills, compared to this
indescribable monstrosity. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I’m climbing that tomorrow. Bloody hell.</span></div>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_1676516761"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYyk7tYiU5dU2dvijWYMQUY9HA65__VmXKuc1YIazeb4iPHUzD0vdDGtb1exlwnw64CEN-G4FIAtc-uzl6MLXuIKJE6tUYFrL_ggzGBTGL9jmUaQGWAia5jUn_E85kqEnAZHXZRUuJKP4/s400/Mt+Kili.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mount_Kilimanjaro" target="_blank">Mt Kilimanjaro</a></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Experience my time as a volunteer at <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/02/african-adventure.html" target="_blank">New Hope Orphanage in Mombasa</a> here.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Have you travelled to a place that took your breath away? </span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tell us about it below.</span></b></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-11109995253463096942012-04-03T16:28:00.000+10:002012-04-08T21:38:40.858+10:00When friendship ends<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Close your eyes and think for a minute
about your best friend. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They are someone you share your deepest secrets with. A confidante. A person with whom you ride the crests and falls of the
rollercoaster that we know as life.
When you’re feeling sad or lonely, it’s comforting to know that just a
phone call away is someone who will lift you up and offer you hope. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Great <a href="http://fromboardroomtobabies.blogspot.com.au/2012/03/mothers-groupa-social-necessity.html" target="_blank">friends</a> are hard to come by, so if you're lucky enough to find one, you grab a tight hold and don't let go.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until tragedy strikes. </span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They die.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0C3mFa74-yDUfn039rdyl-nEIcoA_QEcWANUUruWqVYfCVGIFKJPu-jtT0BEAq37mi6Uq2LWrCHJ95G2B4C9NZ1n0Rd80HQC11sjH1ON82Mpsp4YXk6Xv_fI1uuE91ksJWihNOO6m4w/s1600/IMG_2081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0C3mFa74-yDUfn039rdyl-nEIcoA_QEcWANUUruWqVYfCVGIFKJPu-jtT0BEAq37mi6Uq2LWrCHJ95G2B4C9NZ1n0Rd80HQC11sjH1ON82Mpsp4YXk6Xv_fI1uuE91ksJWihNOO6m4w/s400/IMG_2081.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That’s it. They’re just not there anymore.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like a thousand tiny shards of broken
glass, the devastation threatens to scar you to the core.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Six months on and I still think of her. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You dial her number out of habit until you realise, you can’t speak to her anymore.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then it hits you. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s the rawness of the
feelings that is the toughest. Storms of emotion threaten to knock you down
like a pin in a bowling alley. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First comes mourning. The sadness covers you
like a thick, heavy blanket. How
will you ever be the same again? </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then anger strikes like a snake. It squeezes
you so tight that all hopes of happiness fade along with the stars behind your
eyes. Anger leaves no room for other thoughts. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">These are the feelings that curse through you when a close friend dies. </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Only in my story, our relationship died through
disagreement.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Why? How did this happen? Why?" It’s on
repeat inside my head.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We were like a close-knit family. I was
part of hers. I remember sitting in the warmth of the kitchen in our holiday
house, frantically taking down the recipe of her mums delectable sausage rolls
whilst our other halves reclined on the couch, their snores threatening to wake
the neighbours.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A favourite writer of mine, Eden Riley, once wrote that
there are <a href="http://www.edenriley.com/2012/03/marriage-of-sorts.html" target="_blank">seventeen sides to every story</a> and that very accurately describes this
tale. It’s a Rubik cube of "should have's". I should have said this. I should have called more to explain my side. I should have climbed to the roof top and screamed until she had to listen. But how many should have's are enough?</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whichever way you view it, I’m still
mourning. I miss her. We were ten years.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6ii6OxJKYLnx30tsNR53BVGfiedf7aTd1f2N6RkXi1XaENUGvm9wmiyECZSsQDIg5mILyR72kEtWty7HhVgSjwSXmrngkHg-zkZsYPkzKkhvkp9T3e_SCi3HpLsUOPrUm9b0Os6q7vA/s1600/tumblr_ltwlr3gkJS1qdlkfdo1_500-1-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin6ii6OxJKYLnx30tsNR53BVGfiedf7aTd1f2N6RkXi1XaENUGvm9wmiyECZSsQDIg5mILyR72kEtWty7HhVgSjwSXmrngkHg-zkZsYPkzKkhvkp9T3e_SCi3HpLsUOPrUm9b0Os6q7vA/s400/tumblr_ltwlr3gkJS1qdlkfdo1_500-1-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But enough. Enough now. Life must go on.</span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all need to be reminded of how much other people treasure us. If you're lucky enough to have a best friend, call her/him NOW and tell them how you feel about them. Before it's too late.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1W6WN-L3pIeCDKuRhl5dZmTRa0OZboolokn4erkgLoZTrUaTkghbYEk4AVxPgy7p0ZjEx4sz_FuT1gnTj0hpgLghi2BqoY-gp0fMkThjgsuWV9ij9IXYqH-yXWHgYiPwkoTepNVgjeyg/s1600/Signature.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1W6WN-L3pIeCDKuRhl5dZmTRa0OZboolokn4erkgLoZTrUaTkghbYEk4AVxPgy7p0ZjEx4sz_FuT1gnTj0hpgLghi2BqoY-gp0fMkThjgsuWV9ij9IXYqH-yXWHgYiPwkoTepNVgjeyg/s1600/Signature.png" /></a><br />
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You are not alone. Leave your message below.Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6183145858012455861.post-6993190723421683872012-04-01T13:35:00.000+10:002012-04-08T21:39:39.067+10:00a new baby!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-6bqHdrk3A1AmoeYFsbNMPeJhNyGZtQ0eJ5l3qxbedl42U0BgkDpsgHq-chyNSBDcVkooiyo6cPd3eMhxW9pBd_fKYbkTzTXiMNP-PkmaMyGz5rgU-Qs7c91HIAcOtRxNPPgB97ll2I/s1600/Percy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4-6bqHdrk3A1AmoeYFsbNMPeJhNyGZtQ0eJ5l3qxbedl42U0BgkDpsgHq-chyNSBDcVkooiyo6cPd3eMhxW9pBd_fKYbkTzTXiMNP-PkmaMyGz5rgU-Qs7c91HIAcOtRxNPPgB97ll2I/s400/Percy.jpg" width="352" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">12 weeks pregnant</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dear Percy,</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It’s been nine months since we learned of
you. Like an innocent child on
Christmas morning, we were overjoyed! A new addition to our fabulous family!</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We loved you the minute
we discovered you existed, but when we lay our eyes upon you for the first
time, after so much waiting, the love we feel for you will be cemented for all
eternity.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I’m giggly with anticipation! To feel the
softness of your skin, to smell your purity that only a tiny baby exudes, to
marvel at your perfection in miniature, as we gaze at your tiny rosebud
fingernails, the size of which are difficult to comprehend.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your grandparents, on both sides, are
beside themselves with excitement! My heart softens when “Nana” comes home with
more gifts for you. Not only are you in your parents’ dreams, but also your
entire family are longing to hold you and discover you.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wonder what you will look like? Will you
have the handsome but striking features of your father? His piercing eyes?
His clear complexion? Or will you have your mother’s luxurious dark hair and
soft warm face? </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Yesterday was the day we were told you
would enter our lives. But you’re not here. Why? Is your delay a sign of
character traits to come? Will you be the last to finish dinner, the one we
need to shuffle along when we’re in a rush, the baby who sleeps all day and all
night?</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Your bedroom is ready. Hours have been
spent planning and decorating to make sure you feel home. You belong here. You
belong here with us.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please come soon. </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Love always, your Aunty Melissa, Uncle
Chris, and cousin Max.</span></span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please feel free to leave a message for Tony and Vanessa, the proud parents of Percy.</span></b></div>Melissa - From Boardroom to Babieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06070168679289043450noreply@blogger.com1