Words to ponder

Taken from THIS BLOG. Words to remember. We need to be reminded of this every year...

So you’re feeling too fat to be photographed . . .

Listen. I hear you. You’re a few pounds heavier than you like (or a 100lbs heavier than you like). I completely understand how you feel. I get that same blah feeling about myself when I think about booking new head shots or long overdue pictures of me and Justin. Precious, I even picked a career that has me permanently behind the camera rather than in front of it. Seeing myself in pictures actually produces the faintest sick feeling in my stomach. Isn’t it amazing we can see the beauty in our best friends, sisters, mothers, and aunts without the slightest thought to their flaws . . . but can obsess for hours on our own imperfections? We fixate on our flaws to the point we shirk at any documentation that our round faces and curvy bodies ever walked the earth. No pictures to show how we LOVE, how we laugh, how we are treasured by our families. How is it possible that a double chin can overpower the beauty of a mother cuddling her child? How does arm fat distract from the perfect shot of a spontaneous hug? I swear y’all . . . how is it that we can put more value on a TUMMY ROLL than the captivating way you throw yourself into a roar of laughter during a shoot?

In our warped minds pictures become frozen mirrors that we can stare at as we pick apart our features over and over again.
I know girl. I know.

My personal duck-and-cover (or signature “make a funny face”) approach to having pictures of myself changed completely when I had a serious car accident last year (and started over). In the flash of a second (or a flash of the text message the young woman was reading) my entire life changed. I nearly left this earth with no physical evidence of the goofy, wide open and loud love I have for my life, my husband, my family and friends. I haven’t had professional pictures done since our wedding in 2006 . . . always waiting for this elusive moment where I would be thin enough (pretty enough) to have such a permanent record of me. Because, you know, HEAVEN FORBID there be any proof that I look the way I actually look.

So here is the harsh truth y’all. Listen good. Our vanity is no longer enough of a reason to avoid the camera. Life doesn’t wait until you “get thin” enough to capture it. Life is happening . . . it is happening right now and the only moment we are guaranteed is the one we are living. I shudder at the thought of leaving behind no pictures of my life with ME in it. My mom says of the accident she is “just glad that we’re still a whole family.” My gift to her this Christmas was a family portrait showing just that, 9 months post-accident . . . a whole family.

Do you know what my mom sees when she looks at this picture? Her beautiful family all together.
Do you know what my husband sees? The family he gained the moment he met me (and how much he looks like my dad…)
Do you know what my dad sees? The happy family he has worked for every day of his life.
Do you know what my brother sees? That he got away with wearing shorts…

Shocker: No one is looking at how fat I look.

Can we agree to put the value of family over the value of fat? Can we just accept that the weight you’ve been trying to lose for 5 years might actually just be a part of what you look like . . . and that if this magical day does come when you’re acceptably thin you’ll STILL regret not having any pictures of you with your kids from ages 5 – 10? Can we acknowledge that the insecurities we have in our heads will never be a part of how our children, husbands, and friends see us? Can we just please let our loved ones remember the YOU they love?

Your children want pictures with their mom.

Your husband wants pictures with his beautiful wife.

Your mom and dad want pictures of the happy, successful, amazing woman they raised (ok, and more pictures of the grandkids while you’re at it)

And if you’re thinking that high school friend on Facebook will say to herself (“wow she has gained weight”) then . . . newsflash you DID. You gained weight. Shed a tear. Read a book. Drink a Sweet Tea. Watch Oprah. Whatever it takes. Accept this reality . . . YOU GAINED WEIGHT. The truth is you’ve gained a lot of other things too (a career, a family, some kids, a house, a love for travel, the ability to coordinate your separetes . . . ) and that girl from high school is going to spend a lot more time hating on those things then she ever will on your double chin.

So you’re feeling too fat to be photographed? . . . Ok. But you’re the only one who notices. The rest of us are too caught up in loving you.

Hope this has struck a chord with everyone too.

weekend adventures

We have a fabulous neighbour that for years, has managed to muster and fence and do all sorts of property work with a workforce mainly comprising of kids from around the district aged 15 and under. He just LOVES having kids work for him, and guide and shape them into great young workers.  Although recently he has been quite dismayed by the fact that his workforce has been shipped off to boarding school and he is running out of workforce when boarding school activities are more attractive on weekends.

So it may have been with an ulterior motive in mind that he invited us and our horses down to "help" muster a small mob of cattle and process them. The kids were keen, fired up by stories from their mates, of mustering adventures at PeterFinlay's. (all one word, his christian name and surname all run together, that's how he's known around here).

He was also excited by the fact that his long and lanky mate (my husband) was getting on a horse after a hiatus of around 7 years. (I may have mentioned before he prefers his horsepower to be Honda branded!)

He took this family snapshot. We borrowed two horses, one for me (I donated my steed to The Husband), an old faithful of The Neighbour's (a nice short pony for mum! I wanted to take him home!) and the gorgeous old Red for Kate. Red is well known around the region for his general amazing-ness.

The Neighbour had to take a photo of his own to share with other mates that were also entertained by the thought of The Husband on a horse. (we country folk are easily amused)

After the heat of the past weeks, it was a clear and cool morning. Lovely morning for a short ride down the laneway to pick up some cows. We had two other young ringers, old hands, along for the ride too.

The cows weren't exactly wild and misbehaving, so it was a pleasant outing for all. It did get a bit exciting when bulls started fighting, just as we were yarding up (kids riding to get out of the way all over the place, which is hard to do when the bulls are so determined, and so unpredictable) but no disaster unfolded and was a little bit thrilling for the kids.

The boy child, who is very much a chip off the old block and was lamenting for his motorbike half way home, even rode "solo" on the way home. When I say rode solo, I mean he sat on the back of old dear old Ben, who knows the drill and was quite happy to follow the tail of the mob with his passenger. Ben was quite aware of his passengers skills or lack thereof, and would stop when directed, but turning to go off the track (and expend more energy) well, he was having none of that. It was all home James, but lets not be in TOO much of a rush.

After smoko followed some drafting, and being not a big mob did not take very long.  All kids, apart from the leading hand (12 years of age) penning up at the back,  were put in the crows nest and didn't they think they were great  with a gate each to open.

(some big kids there to keep things under control)

After lick runs, lunch and a spell in the heat of the day, we branded the small mob of calves.

That would be the 12 year old leading hand Toby doing the branding (I helped him out, just so I wasn't twiddling my thumbs), the rest of the kids penning up the calves and hanging off rails down the back. The neighbour and I agreed it was best to not ever look back.

Toby showed my kids how to brand as well ;-) They each had a turn at the end.

 

The Neighbour with all of his disciplines lined up in a row. Kids had a GREAT day, and as always when not working at home,  where there is always nearly a rush to get something done, and a cranky parent or two, much more was learnt. The kids were allowed to do much more and given responsibility. And despite being having an easy day, they all slept well last night. Even mum ;-)

Now they should be all trained up for when we brand in a few weeks time, when the cows come in from the bush country. We may have to bring Toby on board to keep the trainees in check, and I may well just stay at home and keep the pikelets coming, read the paper, and paint my toenails.

Dodgy Birthday Cakes 2013 #10

Poor Kate always ends up with the dodgiest cakes - end of school holidays, start of school, its soo hot...needless to say baking and decorating inspiration are always at an all time low. This year was no different:

It actually looked better in real life, and the pale pink buttercream turned out really well, which makes a change for me.

The candles were lit and were blown out very quickly (a strong breeze helped!) and cake devoured in record time, despite there being less kids at school this year!

I'm getting a bit slack with the photos I have to say, I didn't take many at all (a few more on my phone, which I have been using a lot!)The

I now have a child in double digits...scary much! She was a very lucky girl and got a lot of thoughtful presents from family and friends and so was feeling very loved and special. Granma got her a 500 piece puzzle which we put at the end of the dining table. Lets just say she didn't do a whole lot of it, but Mum, Dad and sister did. Distracting, mind bending bloody thing. But now of course we are all hooked and even Dad has said I need to get another. I'll think about it. He thought Instagram was bad at wasting my time...

One cake down, three to go...