A very dear friend lost her husband in tragic circumstances on the weekend while pursuing his hobby away from his family. My heart is breaking for her loss and the little girls that no longer have their daddy.
The thing that struck me is everyone keeps saying “Well at least he died doing what he loved” WTF.
I’ll be honest, I think that at 45 with 4 little girls he shouldn’t have been taking unnecessary risks, regardless of how much he loved doing it. His pursuit of his own happiness has now left the 5 people who loved him the most devastated.
I understand that you must find joy in life but I think it is necessary to find balance. There are times when others needs have to be considered.
For me I want to try and find things I love to do that I can do with those I love.
I’ve had bad news today. I read on google that a 44 year old father of 4 from Bendigo had died in a skiing accident. My stomach turned but I tend to jump to conclusions,
Then on the 6pm news Ian’s face appeared. I felt disconnected – why was his face on the tv? Then it came rushing in – Ian Baker killed in ski boat accident, died at scene.
I lost my composure. I sobbed, Andrew yelled at me to calm down, he doesn’t cope well with grief. His family don’t display emotion.
I haven’t seen Ian or Joanne in years. Last time I had contact with Joanne was on my 40th in February when she sent me flowers. Both of us have busy, hectic lives as wives, mothers, workers.
That doesn’t matter. Joanne and I met on our first day of high school and have been friends ever since. Jo was actually visiting me at Uni in Geelong when she met Ian. Our friendship remains regardless of how often we speak, we know that we are thinking of each other.
Tonight my heart is breaking for her and my instinct is to drive to Bendigo to hold her hand. There really isn’t much else I can do. I can’t bring Ian back or turn back time so he doesn’t get on that boat. All I can do is be a presence for Jo, someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on, someone to make cups of tea.
I don’t know how you cope with losing your partner of over 20 years, the father of your four daughters.
Vale Ian Baker, taken way too soon.
I have a friend, a smart savvy professional woman. She is younger then me, 31, but she has made a decision that she doesn’t want children. My immediate reaction is omg – you’ll get over it, your biological clock will start to tick loudly and you’ll change your mind. Then I stopped and thought – what a huge amount of courage it takes to make that decision.
It actually isn’t selfish (another of my initial thoughts!). Her reasoning is that whatever she does she wants to do wholeheartedly. For her, her professional career is an extremely important part of her self. Having a child would require compromise on both being a professional and being a mother, she isn’t prepared to be half hearted at anything.
In todays society we are often damned if we do and damned if we don’t. There is so much pressure to be a mother and yet we are also expected to participate in the workforce. For many of us financially we have no other choice but to reenter the corporate world after children, often in male dominated careers where it is difficult to break into the boys club when you have to make sure you get to child care by 6pm and then spend the evening cooking, arbitrating, educating and soothing.
Honestly, the more I think about it the more I applaud her decision. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids but I know I’m not a perfect mother and they have had to make sacrifices for my career. Unfortunately for them they didn’t get a choice. Hopefully, regardless of my intense mother guilt, they won’t spend years in a therapist office talking through abandonment issues caused by having a selfish career orientated mum. Instead they will celebrate the fact that they had a strong, inspirational mother who pushed them to be self sufficient and showed that with a bit of determination you can achieve.
Really there is no need to point it out. I’m well aware of my size.
What makes people think that those of us who are larger haven’t noticed? I find it quite insulting when doctors, friends etc point out that I’m overweight. I’m fat, not stupid.
My husband is one of the worst. I know he stresses about my health and the effect my weight has on it but looking at me and stating “my god you’re huge” really isn’t helpful, or, “if you would just lose some weight” which I get often from my mum.
I know that my weight has an impact on my health. I am a well educated woman and am quite literate so I can read the studies on health issues that arise from being obese.
Yes, I do have health issues that my weight complicates but some of them are genetic defects that I’m stuck with. Not making excuses, just stating facts.
I’m learning to love myself however I look – that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be healthier. I do have to find the program that works for me and one thing I’m sure it isn’t is lapband so doctors stop pushing that barrow.
At this stage in my life it is what it is, fat chick walking.
Sorry – this post isn’t about dealing with travellers gastro. If that’s what you’re looking for, head back to google.
This is about bikini bodies and the wonderful ones I encountered in Sanur, Bali. There’s been a meme floating around lately about how to get a bikini body – put a bikini on your body. I love the sentiment and although I’ve never been a bikini wearer I’m happy to embrace the ideal and applaud others that do.
Last January we all headed off to Bali for the first time. A huge culture shock for all of us, especially my country kids.
On our second day in Bali Brooke and I headed to Sanur to get her hair braided. We sat on the beach under a huge tree and I people watched while Brooke was being beautified, which took about two hours.
The demographics of the beach goers in Sanur that day were probably fifty five plus. Apparently many retired people from the nordic areas of Europe snow bird to Bali.
What was fantastic is that they all had bikini bodies. Regardless of wrinkles, rolls or sags they wore swimsuits of all description without a care for size, skin colour or age. I didn’t notice any elaborate cover ups. People strolled along the boardwalk, rode bikes and relaxed on sun loungers without any obvious concern about body image.
Nobody pointed out to them that they shouldn’t be wearing bikinis, and I imagine even if they did they wouldn’t care because if the body is wearing a bikini, it’s a bikini body.
To those wonderful bikini bodied snow birds in Sanur, I salute you.
I’m penning this on my way in to the Curvy Couture Roadshow in Melbourne on the train. I decided to go with my fave cowgirl boots from Dingo via Sheplers. I’ve paired these with the Aruna maxi skirt in jewel tones (green) and a pretty cami in a grey from swak designs and a denim jacket. I’m wearing a Sarah Coventry brooch as a necklace and carrying a vera bradley bag. I reckon I look ok 🙂
Hair and makeup is not as polished as I wanted but it will do.
Looking forward to a great day.
I don’t know if it’s a middle age thing or just a difference in priorities but I’ve come to the decision that functionality is more important than looks in my underwear.
I had a time in my mid thirties where I spent up big on sexy undies and lingerie. Yep they were gorgeous, lace and satin, covered the curves beautifully. After an hour I was ready to rip them off. They where either scratching, pinching, riding up or falling down.
I’ve experimented with thongs but really why would I want to wear undies that give you a constant wedgie?
This year I discovered bonds cotton tails. My husband says they are the ugliest underwear he has ever seen and is embarrassed by them on the line.
Me, I’m proud of my comfy undies. Good underwear is the basis of any good outfit. There is nothing worse than constantly readjusting your nether regions, not a good look.
So next time you see large cotton undies on a clothes line know that there is a woman who is confident enough in herself to know undies don’t make you sexy but being comfortable in your skin does.