This morning for the very first time I made Rocco warm milk with his rice bubbles, told him if he didn't like it he didn't have to eat it but when I was little one of my aunties used to make it for me and it was the BEST.
He loved it - ate two bowls.
Dave and I separated a few months ago. I moved out and found a place of my own, decked the boys rooms out first-thing because they come first. Always will. My room is still a wreck.. but here's the top of my cupboard.
Max started year eight last week. YEAR EIGHT.
They are both going ok - pretty well, actually. I told Roccos teacher this morning and she thanked me, because at the moment they're talking about families in class and who lives with who. I tell my boys it doesn't matter who lives in what house - that we will all always be a family, and when you're with your family, you are home. I never really bought any parenting books, just do it instinctively. Look them in the eyes, answer their questions, listen to them. Yell at them when needed. Hug them a whole lot. Rocco and I have had lots of sleepovers in each others rooms.
I seen a lot of stuff in my life so far. If this is the worst thing happening in my sons lives right now, then that's ok. They are safe, and loved, adored.
It's amazing what a fresh coat of paint, a cool doona cover, good friends, and some zombie posters can do for a guy.
I bought this container of wooden pieces for Rocco for christmas it is SO GOOD. You can make anything. You can make anything from anything. You don't need much.
I made a chicken - originally with four legs. Rocco took one look and laughed and laughed SO HARD. "MUM A CHICKEN HAS TWO LEGS!" And I was all, really??!
I'll never stop learning. I've already started back at college to do a Diploma in Community Work. The exact same one I started sixteen years ago before I got married and had babies. I might end up being a cranky old grassroots activist with purple hair chaining myself to stuff. I might even specialise in youthwork. Because who else is more qualified to help kids than a slightly middle-aged woman with tattoos and a lot of stories? Who else can teach them the power of writing, crafting a slam poem, believing in themselves? There's a lot of Cams out there. I'd love to maybe help steer a few in a different direction. Maybe not but at least I tried. When I was a girl and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd answer "A pop singer and give all my money to charity." (Obviously I wanted the glory but didn't care so much about the money.)
I've always wanted to help people, which is funny because I also really am a massive arsehole. Bono says the best place to be is right in the middle of a contradiction. Sometimes I wish I didn't care so much.
I'm not even supposed to be here.
The view from my new kitchen makes me happy. Needed to buy some new music to see me through this particular patch of my life so the album "I Awake" by Sarah Blasko it is.
I'm ok. Even when I'm not - I am.