I was chatting to my 'wiser than wise' husband, Peter, the other night about reactionary behaviour, the good and the bad and we deducted how 'sweating the small stuff' is 100% for LOSERS! I count myself as a loser in that respect I must add but I'm determined to stop! STOP I tell you!
How sisterly are you. Really? Do you share those 'Be Kind & Be Brave' Pinterest posts then forget to practice what you preach?
I wanted to share my sister code with you so you can 'check yourself before you wreck yourself'- and potentially your relationships.
I've pondered a while whether I should write this post, air my views and explore a subject that frankly, needs more airing and exploring. A grey area I've shied away from writing. For fear of being judged, of being considered 'too white' to have experienced racism, for fear of not being taken seriously.
Let me start off by stating this post applies to Dads too, it's just 'Father Hustler' doesn't sound as cool as Mother Hustler and you know Mama's got some street cred going on right here so let's stick with it (ha, as if).
Every mother will suffer from the dreaded cringe-worthy 'mum guilt' at some point in their lives, as will fathers, making parental guilt something we all seem to wrestle with.
Guilt, we all get it, it's inevitable, part and parcel of being a parent but it doesn't need to eat you up, consume you whole and make you feel totally BAD rather BAD-ASS.
So today I bumped into an old boyfriend in the post office, as you do (this never happens).
It was really sweet seeing him again, especially as the last time we met up was about 17 whole years ago-and now we're 35 and 36 respectively.
Hey there awesome readers.
I've written a post in answer to some of your blogging questions. Each day I receive several emails/twitter and fb messages asking me how to make a blog a business.
Here I share a brief post that will hopefully offer some insight.
I want this post to be as positive as possible, really I do but I write this with a frustratingly sore, burnt leg after I spilt a cup of boiling hot tea down myself- and over my poor laptop (which has only just recovered from being swamped by water earlier this month enduring a trip to Google Android hospital) so the pain in my leg might just reveal itself in my words.