365 Days.

 

20140331-080814.jpg                                                                                                     365 days.

A year can feel like a long time, but really, they tend to just sneak past when we’re not paying attention.

365 mornings. Getting up, scrambling to make coffee and kids breakfasts, find socks and lost toys. Looking at my ever growing to-do list and knowing I’m not going to have anywhere near enough time to do everything I need to do.

365 evenings. Dinners to be made, stories to read, rushing around, trying to get pyjamas on and teeth brushed. Trying to get everything done and everyone to bed so Kane and I can actually get to spend a bit of time together. Too many evenings where we are both too tired to even talk, one or both of us falling asleep on the couch unable to stay awake even to the end of a t.v. show.

The days blur into each other.

Sure, there are some highlights, great some moments that stand out, but seriously if you asked me what I’ve been doing for the last year, I would struggle to think of an answer that doesn’t include changing nappies, doing dishes and being tired.

Now don’t get me wrong.

I’m not complaining. I want to be a stay-at-home mum, I knew there would be a lot of cleaning and nappies involved.

What I am saying, is that there has to be a better way.

Less stress. Less yelling. Less rushing.

I am not a “routine” kind of person. My home could be, at best, described as organised chaos. But I am starting to realise that I am going to have to set some kind of routines to get things running more smoothly around here.

I want the next 365 mornings to not include tears and yelling. I want to start my day feeling positive instead of exhausted. I want bedtimes to have stories and cuddles, not arguments and tears.

I haven’t worked out exactly how I’m going to do all these things, but I’ll get there. One day.

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A letter to myself.

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If I could go back and give my younger self some advice, this is what I would tell me:

Trust your body. You are stronger and capable of doing so much more than you think you are.

Sleep. But stay up late too, enjoy it. Once you have kidlets, it’s going to be a very long time until you get to enjoy either of those things without worrying about what time you’re going to be woken up and make sure you savour lazy mornings and coffee in bed – again it’s really hard to have a sleep in when you’re wondering what the kids are destroying in the other room.

Enjoy “me-time.” Don’t waste it. It makes me crazy when I think of all the time I spent watching crap tv or doing things I didn’t want to do for people who didn’t appreciate it. These days I hardly get time to eat or even pee without an audience, let alone to spend some quality time with my sketchbook or trying to do something I would really enjoy doing. When you have free time, use it to do something that makes you happy.

Don’t be shy about your body. Like most women, I have spent a crazy amount of time deciding what to wear, wondering if I should wear things; if a particular dress was too tight, or if those shorts are too short. Now, after birthing 2 babies, I feel like half the population has seen my hoo-ha, and I’ve got my boobs out and feed those same two babies just about everywhere, so at this point I certainly don’t have anything left to hide and I really don’t care what anyone thinks anyway!

“Getting Your Body Back” after having a baby is a lie. You don’t get the same body back. Sure, you can lose the weight, but things are different, softer, stretchier. It’s like the difference between a brand-new, tight pair of trendy jeans, or your old, worn-in, comfy jeans that have been everywhere. My body isn’t perky and new anymore, it’s definitely been used, but I’m a lot prouder of what it can achieve than I ever was of what it looked like.

Trust your heart and your gut. If either one of them tries to tell you something, for f**ks sake,  Listen To It!!!

 

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What advice would you give to your younger self?

Drop me a comment on the blog or the facebook page and let me know xoxo

Doing what you’ve gotta do, to get where you want to get.

Hiya peeps.

A few people have asked me how we can possibly afford to build a house when we both haven’t worked at proper jobs for 3 years.

The answer is simple, really.

Sacrifice.

Sacrificing lifestyle now for a better lifestyle in the future.
Sacrificing comfort now for getting into the new house sooner.

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It’s no secret that we’ll be completely broke by the time this house is finished.

We’ve had to scrimp and save, take little bits of work here or there, lucky Kane’s had a few jobs along the way (he’s self employed), I’ve done market stalls and the occasional hair do from home… it definitely hasn’t been easy but I also think we’re pretty lucky to be able to do it this way.

One thing we’ve had to do is give up on “luxuries” to get to our end goal faster.
Not getting my hair or nails done, checking out sales and op shops for clothes, (lucky we both really like vintage stuff!) not buying the little things you tend to grab without really thinking about it; a take away coffee, a magazine or newspaper, always taking water bottles out with us (good for you, good for the environment, and you save money not buying soft drinks)

And it’s kind of impossible to have much of a social life with 2 kids, 2 dogs and trying to save money, and entertaining at the shed can be a bit hard. It’s ok in summer when the weather’s nice, but as soon as it gets cold – forget it!

A really hard one for both of us has been music.
We both have ridiculous cd collections and really love going to see live music, but hey – that’s what birthday and christmas presents are for, right?

And there’s absolutely no way we would be able to do it without help.

All kinds of help that have been absolute lifesavers, from something as simple as watching the kids for a couple of hours so I can help Kane do stuff on the building site, or some fresh veggies from someone’s garden to save us a couple of dollars on our grocery bill, or just a sympathetic ear to complain to when it all gets too hard. To huge things like helping to build stuff, chopping firewood ready for the winter, gifts and loans of cash to help us buy the next lots of building materials.

Doing this has really made me see how blessed we are with wonderful family and friends.

It does make me wonder sometimes though, when people say how they’ve can’t afford things…if you want to do something, if you really want it enough you’ll find a way. I would have said there was no way someone could do what we’re doing…but here we are!

What could you sacrifice to help achieve your dreams?

Till next time lovelies,
This is Beck xoxo

Why I Still Love Social Media.

Hi there, thanks for stopping by.

There’s been a lot of talk recently about the “evils of social media” and the tragic death this week of Charlotte Dawson just seems to highlight that fact. There’s certainly no arguing that a lot of sad, little people take to twitter and FB and attack others as a way of feeling better about their own pathetic lives.

But I don’t want the trolls to ruin what can be a really wonderful thing.

When I started this blog it was as a way of documenting this crazy adventure we’d started on; and also because living in a shed, up a mountain, with a baby was incredibly isolating and I needed to feel connected to the rest of the world.

So “Mama Up The Mountain” was born and eventually evolved into “This Is Beck”.

Over the last year and a half I have shared everything with you, the birth of my gorgeous Squishy, my (ongoing) struggles with PND and anxiety, everyday dramas associated with living up the mountain. The highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

And you know what?

The response I get from you guys always astounds me.

Every. Single. Time.

Somehow I still am blown away that people actually read what I write.

And this has turned into such a gorgeous little community, there are some lovely ladies who I have gotten to know through this, some are other bloggers, other are regular commenters and I wouldn’t hesitate to call you guys my friends, even though we’ve never actually met. You guys help me every day, whether you realise it or not. 

Other bloggers who opened up about their own experiences with depression that made me feel I wasn’t alone and inspired me to share my own story. Commenters who told me that they had been through similar things and gave me hope that I could get through it too.

There is a really lovely side to the internet that doesn’t get as much news time as the trolls, there are amazing people who really want to help and inspire others, there are some great resources out there like #pndchat on twitter and The Anxiety Disorders Association of Victoria (adavic) Facebook page as well as some wonderful pages and groups that give people a place to connect and chat.

So, I just wanna say thank-you guys and girls, you make my little corner of the internet a much brighter place; and if I could ask you to do just one thing for me, when you’re scrolling through your newsfeeds, (or twitter feeds) take a second to stop and comment or like things from the pages and people you really like, because that interaction from you is the reason we do what we do.

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Till next time,

This Is Beck xoxo

The post I almost didn’t write.

This is really fucking hard to write.

I’ve started and stopped so many times I’ve lost count. It’s time to stop thinking about it and let out the words that have been taking up space in my head for too long.

Every family has it’s quirks but mine has it’s own special kind of crazy.

When I was a kid my mum used to joke about how much therapy I was going to need because of her.

She doesn’t know that she was right.

 

I have trust issues.

I have honesty issues.

I have control issues.

Most of my issues stem from being completely manipulated and used by the person I should have been able to trust the most.

My Mother. 

I have spent a lot of years hurting, feeling angry, confused, helpless, lost, betrayed.

Blaming myself, wondering what I had done wrong.

And finally, at almost 32 years old, I have the answer.

I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t deserve to be manipulated, used, decieved and discarded depending on her mood. I was a kid, none of it was my fault.

 

So right here, right now, I’m letting it go.

I choose not to allow the damage she has caused to linger in my life for a single moment longer.

 

For so long I wished for a proper mother. Someone to care, to lean on, to share special moments with, someone who’s always on your side. Someone you can trust. 

I’ve finally realised that I’ve been missing something that I never actually had.

I choose to concentrate my time and thoughts with the little family Kane and I have built for ourselves.

Finally.

After 32 years.

I choose to be free.

Everything that matters to me. Right here.

Everything that matters to me. Right here.

Till next time lovelies,

{This is} Beck xoxo

A Very Buggy Birthday

Both our little munchkins have January birthdays so this year we decided to throw them a combined “Bugs in the Garden” birthday party.

I don’t usually do huge birthday parties for the kids, but after the year we’ve had, I really wanted to do something special to celebrate getting through it all.

Here are a few pics of the day:

Party Yumminess

Party Yumminess

 

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The birthday boy... already a hit with the ladies ;)

The birthday boy… already a hit with the ladies 😉

Sharing his cake with Mummy

Sharing his cake with Mummy

 

And of course, the cake ;)

And of course, the cake 😉

 

Of course I turned to Pinterest for inspiration, and got the ideas to make these:


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IMG_7503It was a hot and sunny day, plenty of cold drinks were had, the kids had a great water-fight (led by the biggest kid of them all, my darling Hubby)

I was absolutely thrilled to see ALL of the kids playing fantastically together, ages ranging from my itty-bitty 1 year old, to a couple of gorgeous boys who started high school this year. The big ones play so well with the little ones and they all get along wonderfully. It’s really lovely to see.

A fantastic day was had by all, and my little bugs had a very happy birthday.

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What a first year.

This week my not so little Squishy-Bear tuned one!

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What a year it’s been, my little one.

The joys of teething, colic, poop explosions  and sleepless nights.

ok, maybe not.

 

But there has been some wonderful memories.

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The very first gummy smile.

The first giggles. The great big chuckle I get when I blow raspberries on his tummy.

This little bundle of cuteness is 9 month old Carter, also known as Squishy-baby

 9 month old Squishy

The gorgeousness of a still-damp from the bath, powder scented baby cuddles.

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The adorable kitten-y noises he makes when he’s just about to drift off to sleep.

The way his whole face lights up when he sees his big sister.

Snugglebug & Squishy

Snugglebug & Squishy

Ittyy-bitty chubby little baby fingers and toes just begging to be nibbled on.

The little half-curl of hair just above his left ear that always sticks out and makes me wonder if he’s going to have his daddy’s gorgeous curly hair.

Miss Snugglebug meeting Squishy for the first time.

Miss Snugglebug meeting Squishy for the first time.

 

The very first time he said “mama” and then quickly progressed to “mummy, daddy, nan-dee, pow-ee” (polly) He can’t say his sister’s name yet, but just hearing it brings a huge grin to his face.

The first time I saw my babies playing happily together.

The way that, sometimes, only Mummy cuddles can fix whatever is wrong.

A happy little Squishy

A happy little Squishy

 

Seeing our son snuggled up sleeping soundly in his Daddy’s arms.

Squishy baby & Daddy

Squishy baby & Daddy

A million firsts; trips to the shops, visiting people, getting to know his cousins, trying different foods, exploring, learning, tasting, seeing so many thing for the very first time. The fascination in a single blade of grass, the determination to pick up the teensiest speck of dirt between two very careful chubby fingers, the look of pure joy the first time he succeeds in doing something, the dreamy, peaceful sleeping face that I could stare at for hours.

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Happy First Year, my little Squishlet, love you to bits,  mummy xxx