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scraps from a bemused mind.

A full time mum who also works full time, a lover of coffee, dark chocolate, wine, and sunlight. A little bit of tomboy, a touch of 5 star, a smidgen of elegance and a lot of fierce.

Again with the Brave. 

Today is the day after Trump was elected (!!!) President of the United States of America. I have so much to say on this topic and yet, it’s really all irrelevant. And not what this blog is about. Trumpiness is for another blog post, another time. 

I’m in another new role now, non clinical and totally alien to what I’ve done before. And it’s great. It’s ALL new and unfamiliar and I’m trying to uncharacteristically embrace it. 

Now, in the next 10 days I have 3 known occasions that I will need to: 

1. Completely and utterly believe in myself. To the point of arrogance. 

2. Back myself and my experience and abilities 100%. 

3. Not allow my self doubt to dictate terms. 

4. Prepare for failure. 
The first of which is an interview. Which requires a 5 minute presentation to a panel and the questions. 

The second is I’m presenting at a Australian College of Nursing Conference to about 30-40 nurses on Leadership!

The third is the launch of Vital Training Group. 

They all occur in the next 10 days. 

So, I need to not only bring it, but own it and spread it all over the place. 

I’m the Queen of under promising and over delivering and of modesty about my achievements and it has been a disservice to me, especially recently, so this is BIG. 

So, I’m being Brave and Bold and Brilliant for the next 10 days and then I expect ill spontaneously combust or turn to ashes and compost! 

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The power of words

When I was about 8 years old, I was asked by my teacher to come up to the blackboard (one with chalk and those wooden dusters and lots of broken chalk bits – you know the ones that took up a …

Source: The power of words

Born this way

What do Eminem and Lady Gaga have in common?

A couple of their songs are both routinely going around in my head as some kind of melting pot mantra or anthem. Neither song would be a autobiographical anthem for me but both would be part o a sound track to my life. I am not sure who would play me in the Off Broadway stage adaptation of my life, but I hope they can master the One-Eyebrow lift I do when communicating.

Image result for raise one eyebrow

I have had facets of me challenged lately.

Too loud.

Too good.

Too intelligent.

Too busy.

I’m actually surprised that nobody has called me too sweary…yet! 

Apparently for some friends I am too loud when I am excited.

For some work peers, I am too good at my job. Which makes them feel bad.

For some people, I am too intelligent for them, which makes them feel bad.

And for some friends, I am too busy for them. Even though I am never too busy for people. I am busy, yes, but too busy? No.

These things hurt. Being told that a part of you that is either intrinsic, irrelevant or holds no value in your overall humanness makes you feel devalued, frustrated and downright cranky.

But, if I want my self to be the best I can be, therefore allowing me to perform at work the best I can, and perform as a mum – encouraging my children to be the best that they can be, then I need to be ME.

Yup – I can be loud. But I am also considerate, humorous, honest and generous.

Yup -I am bloody good at my job. My patients, colleagues and the organisation that I work for benefits from my proficiency at my job. I also happily teach anyone who wants to learn.

Yup – I am intelligent. And well educated. And my friends, family and clients benefit from it as well. The intelligence I was born with, the education I went out and got for myself because I wanted it.

Yup – I am busy. Life is short, and I want to fit in as much of the important stuff as I can. I have never been TOO busy for anyone who is important to me. I have never waved my busyness around like a banner of brilliance. But I make it perfectly clear to people that:

  • I am busy.
  • I do not trade my time with my kids for people unless it is warranted.
  • I get to decide what is warranted.
  • I do not have justify myself to you, but I am more than happy to see what we can make work.

All of the things mentioned above are not actually about me. They are about them.

So I am not sorry about being loud – I will stop apologizing for being me from today. I don’t mind modulating my voice for suitable events, but I will not change who I am for you.

I will not apologise or accommodate your feelings around how good I am at my job. That job is my work and passion. It feeds, clothes and houses my kids and makes a huge difference in peoples lives. I am good at it. I am also more than happy to teach you if you want to learn.

Yup I am intelligent – deal with it. I am also well educated. See above.

I am not sorry for being busy. I am sorry you feel bad about it, but many, many people know how important they are to me without my altering my schedule.

 

I am no longer sorry for being too much. I am no longer sorry for being me. I know this will take practice, and I know it will still hurt when people say these things, but I am no longer rounding my edges off – because it means I will lose my edge.

I was born this way.

Deal with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s ok! Missing out sometimes is for the best. 

When I get the opportunity, I like to take my dogs to a local dog park. I often go with a friend and his 2 dogs and we walk around and around the perimeter and talk shit and laugh at our dogs, who are quite the characters.

The dog park is an interesting place. You never know what the mix of humans and dogs will be and it causes me quite a lot of anxiety at times – it’s something I reflect on a lot.

I’ve always had big dogs. Ridgebacks, German Shepherds and Huskies.

Gidget is the smallest dog I’ve owned but the biggest personality.

She is a typical bull terrier derivative dog. Boisterous, in your face and unapologetic. If you are not prepared for her, she takes quite a bit of getting used to.

Jimmy, however, is a massive dog and is just a calm, man about town at the dog park. Friend to all humans and dogs,  and dismissive of trivialities like rude dogs and so forth.

He gets unlimited off leash time at the dog park, once I have sussed the place out.

Gidget? No. Mostly she gets to stay on leash with me and we do laps round the perimeter.

I have had more than one person suggest I’m cruel for not letting her off lead.

And I hate that I can’t. I leave her on lead mostly for her own sake.  I don’t want her to be ‘that dog.’ She generally means well and hasn’t harmed any dog but is demonstrative in her presence and she takes some humans and dogs aback.
I chatted with my friend about it on our last visit. Although Gidget was on leash, she got plenty of exercise, sniffing, weeing and pats in on that visit. Dogs could approach her and there was tail wagging and butt sniffing for everyone.

But by keeping on lead I kept her safe. She got all the social side of the dog park and very little risk.
So I don’t feel guilty about it at all. Jimmy has proven that he can mingle and be accepted in almost any situation. Gidget has not earned that privilege 100%.

Sometimes there is exactly the right mix of humans and dogs and Gidget will run herself stupid. But is far safer to keep her with me where she won’t be misunderstood.  Adn she would miss out far more if I left her at home.

Bucket list. 

In the midst of being brave all over the place, I’ve kicked some goals.

Which is great, because it reinforces my being brave in other endeavours.

Believe it or not, I’m not ferocious in all aspects. In fact, I’m mostly not brave at all. 

For over a year now I’ve been talking about doing something but in that ‘in the future, a long time away’ kind of way!

Now it is time. And I need to be brave again. 
I’m going to play basketball with some friends, on the Gold Coast at the Pan Pacific Masters Games in November. 

Now, anyone who knows me, knows I love the game of basketball. 

I’m the first to admit I’m not the most talented player. But I love the game. So I’m excited about going up to play. And the opportunity to play at Masters as well! But it’s been a long time since I was fit and my knee is still it’s everlasting issue. 

And now I’m traveling alone, which is not one of my favorite things to do. And I’ll be gone for a week!  That scares me too. 

Funny what scares you, isn’t it?

And funny how old nerves come back to haunt you. I’ve always known my ability on the court. I had the luck ( good and bad) to grow up with some talented basketball players. Which meant I was highly aware of my shortcomings. Now I’m older, fatter and less fit with a busted knee! What the hell am I thinking?!

Me and my stupid bucket list!

I did a thing

I did a thing.

There have  been a few posts over the last 12 months where I have intimated that I was doing a Thing.

A project or a ‘something’.

Well, I started a business.

It is a very small business but I am hoping to achieve very big things with it.

We (my partner and I) go to peoples homes, teaching CPR, Choking and first aid, mainly around caring for children, but its totally individualized. .

For instance, if you have a topic you desperately want us to cover, we will do up a program to suit you and deliver it.

If you have a special need, or have a child with special needs, we will alter and adjust our teaching to suit you.

We are called the Vital Training Group – currently on Facebook, but with a website to follow.

Think of us like a party plan sales team, except we come to your house and instead of us selling you some plastic containers or make-up, we teach you the knowledge that may save a life or a limb or just relieve a fever overnight.

 

I am very excited and I have lots of plans around this, including developing it into a Registered Training Organisation and  developing courses for kids to attend and learn at.

Because my team and I are highly qualified emergency health personnel – think Emergency nurses, paramedics etc – we only teach you the stuff you really need to know, not what is in a pamphlet.

 

Anyway, I have had some screamingly loud doubts, some passionately deep beliefs and like a recent post stated- just an overwhelming need to roll the dice and see how they fall.

 

Wish me luck…..

 

Blogging gets hard 

Blogging gets hard sometimes. 

For example, when you temporarily run out of blogging oomph. When the urge to write is drowned out and smothered by…whatever. Call it writers block or whatever, when you go to blog and the cupboard is bare or you can’t be bothered to to even go to the cupboard. That is hard. 

Another example is when you have heaps and heaps of ideas demanding their time in the sun but they may not be fully formed or quite ready. There’s competing ideas in your  head and it’s hard to grab on to one idea and hold it long enough to examine it, know it and write about it in 200-1000 words.  

Have you ever been to a Butterfly Sanctuary with the butterflies fluttering and alighting and fluttering? That is the inside of my head when I have heaps of things I can write about but can’t quite decide where to start. 
Another common example is when there are perfectly writable things happening around you and to you but you can’t put it on any form of social media or publishable forum. That may be for many reasons such as: 

1. They possibly relate to your workplace in an identifiable way. Even those of you who may live under  rocks will know that passing comment or publishing things about your workplace, even in the vaguest of vague terms, can be career suicide. 

2. To protect the innocent and the guilty. One does not need a degree in forensics to trace events back to a person or peoples. And my opinion on something may well be valid, but airing it in a public domain may lose me a friend, cost me some serious angst or, because of the specific vagueness of how I write, may have someone feel targeted when they are not. 

3. When it’s the kids. Sooner or later they will grow up ( way too soon as far as I’m concerned) and I’m not sure how grateful they will be if I’ve  left them a huge digital footprint and identity.  

Recently my difficulties have been for the second and third reasons. My cupboard is not bare at all. My head is FULL of ideas but for one of many reasons, they are hard to pin down or write about. 
So, while I try to sort the innocent from the guilty, pin down a thought butterfly and make sure I don’t breach a profession/social media policy – I’ll leave you with this: 
Integrity is doing the right thing, even when it’s hard and especially when no one is watching.

Brave, fabulous and risky

Keep Calm and Be Brave

Fake it till you are fabulous. 

I’m not lucky, I’m fortunate and I work my arse off. 

 

These as were some of the headings and ideas  I want to write about but the ideas are refusing to be tied down in a post, instead, wanting to float, and bump and shine and shimmer.

They all relate to risk and opportunity, self doubt and belief, and making your own self narrative.

I won’t bore you with the details but I’ve rolled the dice in a few ways lately, all in the professional sphere.
I’ve put myself out there, and it’s certainly not without risk. And it’s too early to know if it was the right thing to do or if it will blow up in my face. And I’m thrilled with myself for doing it.
I get to practice to my principles. I get to see if I have what it takes. I get to step so wildly out of my comfort zone that it feels like I’m dancing on a table top in heels.

I get to stretch muscles that have atrophied and I get to find completely new ones.
And I will be judged, weighed and measured on how I perform. My colleagues don’t know what else I’ve achieved, or where I’ve been. They will only judge me on what I do NOW. And how well I do it. The stakes just got raised.

I am also working Monday to Friday and not shift work for the first time in approximately 20 years. And that may be the scariest thing of all!

 

Torn

This post, no matter when or indeed if it gets published, is being written as I lay in a single bed in a hotel room next to my parents.

I’ve just driven from Perisher snow fields to Lane Cove, Sydney – over 5 hours, after a full day of skiing with my family.

This week is Interschools Snow Sports – the boys ski race for their school.

Tomorrow* is also the day my dad has heart surgery.

Since dads need for surgery was established, I’ve planned to be here for it. Since the date was decided, I’ve planned to leave my kids and husband in the snow fields to be here. To that end, I packed an overnight bag and we drove two cars up to the snow, so I could go away. It was all going to depend on what time my dads surgery was booked for, and they couldn’t tell me that till he’d had his pre op testing today. So, we came down from skiing at 4pm,  and there was a text from mum about dad being booked in at 0600hrs tomorrow morning!

Holy shit.

DH came through as usual. Instead of hanging around to socialise and watch presentation of trophies with some of our favorite people on snow, he saw what I needed and packed me and the kids up and got us off the mountain. Then, whilst I showered and dressed and said good bye to my boys, he filled the car, checked tires and packed it for me.

My boys……. Well.

They are sad I’m not going to be with them tomorrow when they race but they said they were glad I would be with Poppy.
So I’m laying here, listening to my mum snore, it’s  midnight in Sydney, knowing that in 5  hours we get up to take dad for admission to hospital.

I have no input or control here and my knowledge and experience only burdens me, not helps me.

I miss my boys but I would never miss dads surgery. And it’s because DH is so spectacular at his job of being a dad and a partner that I get to be torn completely apart but also know I’m in the right spot.

* this was last week and dads surgery was a success. My eldest also made State for both events and I made it back for the following days racing. I drive 11 hours in 24, but I got to be there for my mum and dad and my husband and kids.

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