Words to Ponder – Food For Thought Friday

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ponder
verb
gerund or present participle: pondering
  1. think about (something) carefully, especially before making a decision or reaching a conclusion.
    “I pondered the question of what clothes to wear for the occasion”
    synonyms: think about, give thought to, consider, review, reflect on, mull over,contemplate, study, meditate on, muse on, deliberate about, cogitate on,dwell on, brood on/over, ruminate about/on, chew over, puzzle over,speculate about, weigh up, turn over in one’s mind;

I love words.

I love inspirational words, I love words of wisdom, I love words of truth, I love coffee (just thought I would throw that in there), I love words that make you think, that make you ponder your life. So Friday will be my thought for the week. Something for my readers to ponder. I might as well make good use of all that Pinterest time! Some days I will write a post to go with my pondering of the day, and others I will just let it speak for itself.

Mondays will be my coffee quote day. Cos ya know, I love coffee and I love talking about it, reading about it, looking at it, smelling it and best of all, drinking it.

So back to the topic at hand:

Do not regret growing older, it is a privilege denied to many

I admit I am a sucker for self pity as I get older and this is something I need to remind myself of as my hair starts to turn grey, my knees start to creak, my skin isn’t what it used to be and lets not talk about how our body changes shape with age. I need to remember that many (far, far too many) people are not fortunate to grow old, to experience all of life’s seasons. For many their time is up far too soon and I need to learn to appreciate that I am here, that I am given the luxury of ageing whether that be with a few stray grey hairs (who am I kidding, I am riddled with them!), whether that means waking up on a cold morning with aching knees (I am actually 33, just so you know cos I realise this post makes me sound much much older), whether I become a hunchback for several minutes after bathing the kids because my back can’t hack the leaning over and takes awhile to straighten back up or whether I have a few lines and wrinkles. I am sure my mum would have embraced her lines and wrinkles should she have been given the opportunity to live beyond such a young age of 43 (with some massive doses of expensive anti-wrinkle cream though I am sure, her vanity is something she will be forever remembered for in good humour!).

So remember that we are fortunate to age, to embrace the season of our lives (with a bit of hair dye thrown in for good measure!) and appreciate that you are one of the lucky ones.

Starting Again!

Getting back into blogging is a daunting prospect. First of all, there is the fact that I had a clear topic before and an evolving story, a challenge, a journey. And I wasn’t so tired. My life is one crazy day after another these days. My brain is slightly fried and dare I say it, a bit boyed out! Not that boyed is a word, but it should be! I live with them, I work with them. I grew up with females so males are not really something I was accustomed to being around on a daily basis. Not counting all the boys at school of which I stalked a lot! Don’t tell my husband.

On second thought, he already knows.

I grew up with my mum, my Nana, my aunty, a few female boarders here and there and my poor grandad. Then my mum got married and I gained a step sister and a step dad. Three females against one! For some reason when I moved out of home I thought moving in with all guys would be awesome! Why? I don’t know! Silly young girl. We had ants on the bench daily from the guys not pulling their weight in the cleaning department, but really, how many 20 year old males do you know that clean?! They also set up a grandstand in the lounge for the sports they lived to watch and there may have been a few, um, untraditional things being cooked on the stove top *cough cough*. I had nothing to do with that though! Naive young woman I was. No one cooked (other than the subtly hinted at other grassy item) and I quite literally lived on two minute noodles. I kid you not! I was given a box (I’m talking one of those big boxes that the supermarket are supplied with) for my 20th birthday of chicken two minute noodles and I lived on those for months. The upside was that I was a skinny wee thing who still thought she was fat (and I would so adore to go back in time and slap her around the face and tell her to start flaunting it and stop hiding her figure under baggy clothes!). The downside was that it wasn’t exactly nutritious and more than a bit boring!

Little did I know that moving in with all guys in a flat at the age of 19 would be the trend for the rest of my life! For 12 years I have worked with all guys (4 to be precise plus technicians who are also male), then I continued to flat with all guys for 4 years (why?!) and then I had a son. And another one. And a cat and dog that are both (you guessed it!) male. I am quite literally surrounded by BOYS. And people wonder why I am addicted to coffee! I am the girliest of all girly girls. I got notes written for me to get me out of PE thanks to a mum who knew precisely how I felt and who, ironically, grew up on a farm! I did enjoy the great outdoors where sport was not involved and then I am really not sure what happened … I grew up into a girly girl girl girl. Outdoors was for sunbathing! Not exploring. And now I have two sons who want me to let them play in the mud which usually involves me having to get in the mud to remove them from the mud while they are covered in mud which ends up with me covered in mud. And then I inevitably need a third coffee of the day by 10am. Scratch that, make it a wine!

So perhaps this blog will be about learning to be a mum to boys. To embracing a boys world. On top of this I am a working mum. A wife. A coffee lover. A motherless daughter.A woman who has overcome infertility, experienced the ups and downs of not being able to conceive, who has endured IVF and experienced miracles.

Welcome to the next chapter!