Being a grown up is hard, this is how I have found it…

We do better when we know better – Vital Neonatal Conference PE

When I became a mother, I was only 19 years old and I had no idea the sacrifice. The strength that would be required of me to do this immense job I had been assigned. Back then we didn’t have platforms like Facebook, Whatsapp and Twitter to post questions. To get instant answers – from other mom’s and people who wanted to help you. It was just you, you and your screaming, innocent little baby. Times have changed and one thing I do love about our the technological age we live in is, there are new developments in medical science everyday. They are understanding more and more about the why questions.

The Vital Neonatal Conference


Coffee without a coffee machine? Solutions here ft Mastertons

I must be the only person in the entire planet that does not own a coffee machine. After the #ECMeetUp, where Mastertons sponsored our goodie bags with some of the best coffee in all of the land. I found myself looking through tons, I mean tons of pictures of fellow blog friends enjoying their coffee. With us not having that type of coffee machine just looked at our beautifully packaged coffee. Smelling the aromas of wakefulness and stimulation… wishing for the coffee machine we didn’t have.

Thanks blog friends for not inviting me over!

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Ambulance, Dr, ER, Paed and then a plastic surgeon in theatre- parenting toddlers

This title may sound a little dramatic – because well this mama is a little dramatic. But so was my last week. Daniel took a really bad fall last week Monday. Getting that call was possibly the most trauma my heart has felt in a really long time. The paramedics are on the way. My son is 14 months old. Ambulance? Paramedics? Already I was picturing the worst possible outcome. Parenting toddlers is so tough. Now I’ve read all about Maz’s experiences with “What no-one tells you about having a baby boy” – but honestly I didn’t expect them to be true to this extent.

parenting toddlers (more…)

My “not-so-secret” shame – dealing with hyperhidrosis

The first memory I have of my hyperhidrosis dates as far back as primary school, grade 3. I remember trying to explain the best way that my little 9 year old heart could, to my then teacher. I had tried my best to not sweat all over my pages, and even though I was always trying – my work was seen as shody or careless. I really couldn’t help that everything was wet and then dried and dirty. That my needlework was a lot harder for me to keep clean. I remember her face. The embarrassment and shame. How angry I was with myself that this was something that was happening to me.

More so that I couldn’t do anything about it.