Where is my motivation?
I don’t even feel like I have any ideas anymore, let alone the energy to carry anything out.
An unexpeted week in hospital seems to have sucked all the creativity from my body as well as my gall bladder.
No activities, no thoughts, no cooking. As empty as Miss T’s activity baskets!
I hope it comes back soon.
The motivation, that is. Not the gall bladder!
After months of pulling my hair out trying to find something to keep Miss T’s attention for more than 5 seconds I was almost ready to hand over my iphone and drown myself in a puddle of defeat.
In desperation yesterday we went op-shopping and brought home a little bag of random, pre-loved toy cars and trucks.
Was this victory? It certainly looked closer than it had been as she busied herself in a serious conversation with a red fire truck all the way home.
Definitely a victory! She sits still AND plays. Well maybe only for 15-30min at a time, but hey, that’s hours on 5 seconds.
She pokes her chubby finger into the windows, spins the wheels, turns each one around and around and around. Then starts all over again.
Such a brilliant, cheap and unexpected discovery.
I have started baby wearing.
In my research the information and articles I found were often accompanied with images of indigenous men and women carrying their babies. It was as though being associated with these people makes our decision more real, more natural and more in tune with our children. A choice that is better than all other options because it’s what they chose.
They want us to see a mother so connected with the natural order of things that she instinctively carries her baby with no other thought. They want us to see a deep and abiding maternal bond that can only achieved by constant closeness of a mother with her child. They want us to see love, contentment and ease.
What I see is hard work. What I see is babies carrying babies. I see long heavy days and tired bodies. What I don’t see is choice.
I love carrying Miss T for lots of reasons, but if I didn’t have a choice I wonder how appealing it would be. And if it would feel as ‘glamorous’ and natural as the images make it out to be.
Activity: Rubber gloves filled with oats, marshmallows and coloured rice
Expected: Intrigue and confusion.
Unexpected: The peels of laughter when the gloves were wiggled in front of her or slapped on the floor.
Outcome: Miss T was happy to laugh and respond to the gloves provided they didn’t get too close. After some encouragement on my part and close inspection on her part they slowly became more interesting.
They remained interesting for all of about half an hour and they aren’t something she goes back to play with. Not a huge success but something quick and easy to put together and definitely something to try again.
Activity: Small round basket filled with a selection of ‘balls’
- blue textured dryer ball
- ball of string
- pink tennis ball
- plastic teething ball
- string of felt balls
Expected: Kids love balls right? They roll, they bounce, they unravel. Enough to entertain for hours. Oh the ignorance!
Unexpected: How annoyed MT would get when the balls rolled away from her. I forgot to remember that she wasn’t on the move when we did this activity!!
Outcome: MT quickly got bored with the balls because she was unable to chase after them. She settled for the felt balls on the string which she could wave about, suck on and jingle on the floor. Not as successful as I hoped and probably one to try again now she is crawling.
Who doesn’t love a good Anzac?
I suppose that could apply to the soldiers as well as the biscuits, but for this post we are most definitely talking about the biscuits. Of course if it wasn’t for the soldiers then we wouldn’t have these tasty morsels baking in our ovens and filling our biscuits barrels.
Who even has a biscuit barrel?
I find the origin of these biccies heartwarming. If you’re interested you can read about them here: ANZAC Biscuits.
By far, this is the best Anzac Biscuit recipe I have tried. You can try it for yourself at Exclusively Food: Chewy Anzac Biscuit Recipe. along with a whole range of excellent recipes with step by step photographic instructions.
Super quick and easy this recipe gets a 10/10 rating from me. It also freezes well so you can make a couple of batches for later. If you prefer a crispier cookie then check out Exclusively Food’s other Anzac Biscuit recipe.
Do yourself a favor and fill a biscuit barrel, even if it’s simply so you can put your hand in and pull out a home-made Aussie Anzac for yourself.
I used to think I was an ideas person.
You know the type? Bouncing with brainstorming vigour, never questioning the worth of her ideas. Never afraid of the originality of her ideas. They were fresh ideas. Original ideas. MY ideas.
But were they?
I used to think they were. That was until I started spending time on the internet and discovered that millions of other people were having MY ideas too.
Thing is, they are more than likely your ideas too. And the person’s sitting next to you, your neighbor’s, your Mum’s, and your sister’s husband’s brother-in-law.
If there is always someone somewhere with the same idea, how valid then are my ideas? Do I actually have any original ideas?
Even this idea about ideas isn’t new but that doesn’t make it any less mine, nor any less real. It’s what you do with the idea that counts says Lisa Barone from Outspoken Media in her article There Are No More Original Ideas. Now What?.
I used to think ideas came from within. But with the advancement of social media and an almost addiction for thought sharing it’s almost impossible for an idea to be completely your own. Kirby Fergusson in his TED talk Embracing the remix – YouTube. demonstrates how this happens and encourages society to embrace this way of thinking and idea generating.
It’s what you as a person, with your all your quirks and character, your creativity and your experience bring to an idea that validates it and makes it your own.
Ideas from without are still ideas; it just means that we’re all ideas people creating and recreating new and interesting ideas that reflect our individuality.