I lay awake in this inflicted insomnia knowing that I cannot take something to help me sleep at this time, because tomorrow morning my reality is getting my kids to school and I need to be all there for that. My mind is racing at a mile a minute while I prop myself up with pillows, touch my face so I can fall asleep and fetch a stuffed animal to hold in case it will help. It didn’t. In the end I got out of my warm bed to fetch my laptop. I need catharsis.

I stopped blogging for a good time. I can pin point the exact time in my life that I stopped blogging with any notable frequency. It came at a time where I had a big secret to keep. It completely blocked me off from speaking here. I felt like I could not blog disingenuously. If this was all I was thinking about and what was consuming me, what on earth would I write about? Fluff? My nail posts were never fluff on my blog to me. I never posted about nails to distract from what was happening in my life. I may have used nail art as a medium to escape at times, but blogging them was for me. When I could no longer blog from within, I stopped.

At the end of last year, I told you about a course I was embarking on. A course called Women In Leadership that I had been nominated for at work. Our final presentation was on the 22nd of March. On the 21st of March I also ended up at my doctor on a drip because my body had shut down on me, at a crucial time no less. I was clad together among a group of amazing women. Women that inspired me, carried me and who were there for me when I needed them. On the 7th of August I graduated the course with distinction. Our team also won the team award overall and I’ve never been more proud. When they announced our team name I was beaming from ear to ear. It was a good moment in my life. I made some steadfast friends and went on a journey I could not have imagined. Another highlight for me was breaking open a bottle of champagne at the end of our presentation day and drinking it out of paper cups in my friend’s car to celebrate reaching that final milestone.

I finally got my shit together and filed for the divorce. Friends had been questioning why I had not done it yet and the truth was that I knew it was going to be an arduous battle with queues and paperwork. I felt like it didn’t matter enough what was legal on paper if I knew what I wanted and how I felt about it. I was wrong. I thought it was merely a formality, but it was not. It really is a chapter I needed to tie up all the loose ends of before I could really move on with my life. I was told this, but I didn’t believe it at the time. Since getting a fire lit under my ass I spent a day at Home Affairs sorting out my new ID. The day I did that I also applied for my maiden surname to be reflected on my new ID. Although I knew this might be hurtful to my ex before the divorce was even finalized, I didn’t want to have to waste another day at Home Affairs to have it done and it is something I wanted. Not something spiteful or vengeful or hateful, something I wanted for myself. Standing at the precipice of my new life, I wanted to wipe my slate clean and start from scratch to rediscover who I am and take back my identity, a part of myself that I felt I had lost.

Being on my own does not come easily to me, at all. One would think that being an only child I would have gotten the hang of it by the time I turned 37, but I didn’t. I am not entirely alone, I have really good friends that hold me dear and love me unconditionally (perhaps because I just haven’t managed to push them far enough yet…and believe me sometimes I push hard), but the honest truth is that it is not the same as having someone in your life that is there to hold your hair out of the toilet when you’re sick or pull the blankets over you when you have uncovered yourself during the night. This was something my ex used to do in the earlier years of our relationship which really endeared him to me. Eventually he transferred that kind of care to our children and that is most certainly not something I will hold against him.

I think sometimes people wonder, even people close to me, how I can write such personal things on the internet for the whole world to see. A close family member has asked as much. For me, it is a way of living my authentic self, of connecting with people and reaching people. If I can make just one other person feel like they are not alone in feeling a certain way, if they can in any way relate to me and feel comforted, then nothing was in vain.

I need to make better decisions going forward. I cannot keep doing the same thing or similar things and expect different results. If I am really going to start living my authentic self, I need to learn from my own mistakes and when faced with the decision again, take a different path.

The post Cortisone Catharsis appeared first on acidicice.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this on my blog before, but I was adamant that I have more than one child. When I was younger I didn’t want to get married or have children. As time went on that changed and I was dead set on having more than one. It was actually my condition for starting a family in the first place. If we have one, we will have to have another. I drew my reasons for this from my own childhood experience. Both my parents worked outside the home and I was often left home alone (when I was old enough). It was a very lonely way to grow up. One would think that you learn to love to spend time with yourself, but for me the opposite is true.

I am also an extrovert by nature. When I am around others I feed off the energy of those I’m surrounded by and being around my friends or colleagues brings out my personality. I do not do well on my own. When I am alone I withdraw and feel despondent. So I guess the first symptom of Only Child Syndrome I experience is co-dependence. I need the company of other adults in order to feel good and to stimulate me. Children do not do quite as good a job at this. Adult company in the least dirty sense is required to get my juices flowing.

Another symptom I experience is that I am a total attention ho. I always want to be the center of attention, the favourite or the one who is preferred. This is likely a more obvious consequence of being an only child as one would assume that an only child received a lot of attention while growing up. That isn’t necessarily true as I don’t remember specifically spending time with my parents, but rather spent a lot of time alone and occupying myself. I also remember often visiting my parent’s friends and being the only child there. This leads to problems for me when I am in a group of several people and I feel sidelined or excluded. I will get straight up pissy about it.

While I have issues with co-dependency, I also have a strong sense of independence. I know it sounds like a contradiction, but it is very difficult for me to ask for help. I will rather struggle on my own to be okay, than to hold my hand out. While I can accept help when it is offered, I would rather not ask at all. I am fortunate to have friends that offer help when they see I am struggling, which really makes a difference in my life when I’m being stubborn and not reaching out.

I realized being single was going to be difficult for me because of my predisposition to feeling the way I do if I’m not getting enough attention or do not have company. At times it has been harder than I thought it would be, but again I have been fortunate to have wonderful friends that support me and visit me often.

I am also inherently jealous. It’s an ugly quality to have, I know, but I suppose all my insecurities only fuel my jealous nature. It’s bad. Really bad. To the point where once I’ve had a boyfriend, when we are over that’s it for him. Even if I do not want him in any way, shape or form, nobody else is allowed to have him. Perhaps this is a manifestation of Only Child Syndrome because I didn’t have to share my toys? Look, I’m not saying people are toys, I’m just saying perhaps I don’t share well with others. My friends do not escape this. If my friends spend time alone together without me and I was not invited or included, I’ll do my nut.

I always want to be a priority, I always want to be considered and I always need to feel like I am valued. This isn’t unique to singletons in my opinion, but the way I was raised certainly shaped who I am today. Sometimes I think I have a sense of entitlement, but feel I don’t deserve anything from anyone.

Are you an only child? Do you think you suffer from Only Child Syndrome? How were your decisions around having a family shaped by your childhood?

The post Only Child Syndrome appeared first on acidicice.

Perhaps I’m a little old school, but online dating just doesn’t do it for me. When complaining about it to a friend he said “That’s the way people do things now” and I guess he is right. Look, I know nobody is going to hit on me in the shops when I have my two children in tow and that is about the extent of me leaving the house other than going to work. I don’t get time to go out and meet new people, I have my kids with me 24/7 and don’t have the luxury of family that will watch them for me for free. By myself I sure as hell can’t afford babysitting services and wouldn’t expect anyone else to pay, so I’m mostly at home with my kids, or at work. I also don’t want to expose them to every new man I meet, so I’m quite stuck.

So obviously, one gets lonely and you’re left with no choice but to hit up a dating site to try and meet new people. Holy shit. Tinder is an absolute shit show. I wrote about my first impressions here.  Tried Zoosk too, but that is a paid subscription and you can’t see messages from people unless you pay and what not.

I’ve met 3 guys from Tinder. The first guy is lovely, took me on a nice date and was courteous and all. He and I are still friends and chat very frequently. We decided not to pursue anything since he plans to emigrate and there’s really no point in getting attached to anyone.  We get along really well though and he is a nice friend to have.

The second guy I met seemed to be quite successful, but also really full of himself. Intelligent and good looking, but spoke so much about himself I barely got a word in. Pass.

The third guy I met also seemed nice, but a bit…too much. Talking about “giving us a chance” before we had even met. We met up and he didn’t put me off, despite being extremely talkative as well. The day after he asked me whether I was still attracted to him and interested in him. After I said I’d like to see him again, he ghosted me, which is also fine. I said I wanted to see him again because I know I can be quite cagey and wanted to be sure whether it was me or him.

I’ve also matched with numerous fuckboys on Tinder. In case you are unsure what a fuckboy is, Urban Dictionary defines him as follows:

Asshole boy who is into strictly sexual relationships; he will lead a girl on and let her down, then apologize only to ask for “pics” once the girl has welcomed him back into her trust. Boys like this will pretend to genuinely care about the girl but always fail to prove the supposed affection.

I actually wrote on my Tinder profile that fuckboys should just swipe left, but inevitably a fuckboy doesn’t know he is a fuckboy (or tries to hide it) and I match with them anyway. Perhaps we’ll chat a bit and once they figured out I am not DTF (down to fuck) just anyone, they disappear. Totally fine by me.

Let’s not forget the other propositions. Married men getting their flirt on. How about…no? I’m way too old to just be a side chick.

I need a self sufficient man, who loves to cuddle and watch series/movies. Loves my kids and treats me with respect. This…is apparently too much to ask for. I’ve also realized I have a very specific physical type. Once you get into the swing of swiping on Tinder, it’s pretty easy to peg it down. I have also had to stop myself from swiping right on men that strongly resemble my ex. That’s a bit of a mind fuck, but I guess you like what you like.

So here I am. Single AF with no options really. What’s a woman to do?

The post Dating In Your 30s appeared first on acidicice.

Tinder – First Impressions:

• It feels so shallow judging people solely on how they look.
• Swiping left is kind of addictive.
• Shit! Just accidentally swiped left on a hottie.
• Stupid swipe left crack.
• OMG. I KNOW THIS GUY! He’s engaged to someone I know. Well, shit.
• Ha! I knew this guy and his wife split. Here’s conclusive evidence.
• There’s a dude I went to school with.
• Oh! This guy works in my team. Awkward.
• Why are there so many hot 26 year olds? WHY?!
• Dude. If there’s a girl in your picture that isn’t clearly your mother, I’m swiping left. No man.
• Can I at least see your face? Sunglasses are deceiving. What if your eyes are too close together?
• Shallow. Shallow. Shallow.
• It’s exhilarating to get a match. Someone you like, likes you back. Feels like a win.
• Someone messaged me. Turned out to be a fuck boy. Accused me of husband hunting. WTF.
• Someone else talks to me. Shows me pictures of his house, but can’t take a pic of himself in the house. Um.
• Do you think I could pick any one of these men to have sex with? Is this what they all want? It’s a bit disappointing, but not unexpected. Is there a decent one in between? Maybe.
• Tinder. Shallow. Minefield. I don’t trust it.

It turns out I was right not to trust it. I have a folder full of male genitalia that was graciously sent to me. On the first day using Tinder upon refusal to “meet up to hook up” I was accused of husband hunting. So I updated my profile as follows “Not husband hunting and not looking for a one night stand. Fuck boys swipe right”. I got a message from a man that was confused by that, because it was technically an invitation for fuck boys. Oops. I changed it and we ended up meeting for dinner and having a lovely time. I met one more man from Tinder who spoke so much while we were having hot chocolate together I could barely get a word in edgewise. He was mostly talking about himself.

I decided to update my profile completely honestly, mentioned I had 2 kids, that I’m a smoker and not interested in hooking up with randoms.  Immediately I started getting less matches. Might be a MILF, but a MILF is all you are when that is all they want. Eventually I just deactivated my profile. I never had much hope for online dating. My opinion has always been that mostly it consists of a lot of men trolling for women to sleep with.

While Tinder was fun to play with, I think I’ll give it a miss.

The post Tinder – First Impressions appeared first on acidicice.

There have been times where I have wanted to go out and wanted to let my hair down, but did not because they are my first priority. I don’t have family that are capable of caring for them if I need some time off.  On occasion asked a friend to watch them, for instance when I had an overnight team building at work recently.

I have a little bit of leave coming up, but I will be hosting a house guest during that time and will likely not be resting much. My leave is the week before Christmas too, so the usual pressured Christmas arrangements will also be keeping me busy. I have a few things done, but I am still going to have to cram in last minute things regardless. Rudi and I have decided to spend Christmas together so that the children will have both parents present on Christmas Day. I wasn’t very comfortable with the idea at first, but decided to suck up any reservations I have since I want them to have a special Christmas, even if Rudi and I are no longer together.  The children seem to have adapted well to the separation, but at times I can tell it has affected them more than they let on. It is not helpful that they cannot see him often either, but I do my best to make them feel secure and loved.

Elijah has excelled in school this year, despite the adjustment at home. He did very well and I am more than happy with his results. He’ll be off to Grade 2 next year and Gabby will be starting pre-grade R. I cannot believe they are almost both in primary school. If anything is going to make you feel old as fuck, it’s this.

This time of year is always extra stressful for me. Just as I’ve come off from Death Month,   it’s Christmas. 8 days after Christmas it’s Gabby’s birthday. Mid January it’s back to school…stationery shopping, school uniforms, suitcases, etc. On the 2nd of February it’s Elijah’s birthday. I’ve had a rough year financially, compounded by the seemingly endless car problems I was facing. I am hoping I will scrape through this year without a heap of debt.

Forgive me if I don’t manage to blog again till after the festive season. I hope you all have a happy and safe festive season!

The post It’s Almost Christmas appeared first on acidicice.

I have often considered weaning Gabby along the way. At times I was frustrated with how often she was nursing, or she would hurt me and I would not want to continue. Breastfeeding has been the most amazing mothering tool. It solved a multitude of problems without even taking into consideration the nutritional benefits. Hurt? Nurse. Bored? Nurse. Upset? Nurse. Tantrum? Nurse. Hungry? Nurse. Thirsty? Nurse. Sick? Nurse. Whatever problem Gabby may be facing, nursing was the solution. It fixed everything. The emotional bond between us is absolutely amazing too.

About a month and a half ago my breasts were very sensitive and sore. Reminiscent of how they felt when I was pregnant. When I took off my bra at the end of the day I could feel the pain right into my armpits. I was confused. I certainly wasn’t pregnant. I wasn’t close to my period and I wasn’t ovulating. What on earth?! I think though, that I figured it out. Just over a week ago I randomly checked whether I still have milk. I could not yield a single drop. At that moment, I realized that Gabby was dry nursing. It was time to have the talk.

I sat her down and had a brief conversation with her. I told her that I knew that I had no more milk to offer her. She asked how I knew that. I told her that I know how to check. Cheeky bugger. I assured her that she could still cuddle me, hold me, be close to me and spend time with me. I told her she may still touch my breasts, but no drinking. She slipped her little hand into the neckline of my shirt and into my bra, looked up at me and said “Mommy, can I hold them like this?”. I told her she could.

She has asked maybe 3 times since that conversation if she could nurse. I had to stick to my guns and refuse, but I always offered alternate comfort. Sometimes she does not want to cuddle, but if I stand my ground for just a little while, she usually caves and cuddles.

A lot of mothers feel sad at the end of their breastfeeding journey. I have not felt sad. I feel like we walked a long road together and even though that aspect of our relationship is done now, we will always be on a journey together in life. I feel a great sense of accomplishment for having reached such an incredible milestone.

To commemorate this, I had a tattoo done. I toyed with the idea of a nursing image, there are many stunning images to choose from, but when I settled on my choice it felt right. My La Leche League Leader, Kim used to encourage me by telling me ‘Never quit on your worst day’. There were many days when that got me through whichever hurdle I was facing and sure enough, the next day was better.

Most people that see it will not know why I got this tattoo, but generally we all need this reminder every once in a while.

I feel incredibly blessed and privileged to have come this far. Thank you to everyone that supported me. Breastfeeding will always be something I am passionate about. This journey has not only grown me as a mother, but as a woman. I only hope I can help someone else to achieve their breastfeeding goals in the future, even if all I offer is support and encouragement.

The post Weaning appeared first on acidicice.

A week before Christmas last year, Rudi and I separated. We have been ever since. We are not divorced yet, but it is merely a formality. Honestly I have been avoiding the admin of it this for the past year. It was fairly amicable.

I am not doing badly at all. The financial constraints of being on my own are hard. Rudi pays his way and contributes monthly even though there is no signed agreement that he must and I commend him for that. I wish he could see the children more, but his job is very demanding. He is still in the transport industry and as a result he works shifts and weekends. The result of this is that I have my children all the time. If Rudi does take them it’s usually during the day when I am at work or for short period over a weekend, when I am at work or just for a few hours. So I do not have time to spend by myself, rest or even go out on a date if I were so inclined.

I’m not going to lie. It has been hard. Worrying about money, feeling lonely and isolated, the kids driving me up the wall. Most recently I didn’t have a car for almost 5 weeks. My car has been giving me endless trouble this year. I’ve spent tens of thousands of rands that I just don’t have repairing it. I am desperate to get rid of it now that it is fixed, but I will need a replacement and I am shit scared to buy another second hand car. I know it won’t necessarily be the same and it will be a very far stretch to afford a new car, but it is something I will need to do very soon.

I haven’t been seeing anyone since we split. I don’t think I am ready for any kind of commitment and admittedly I am jaded. I don’t want to discuss the details of why we separated. What I can say is that my faith in love and marriage has been destroyed. I don’t hate men, but it seems the men around me and the ones I encounter are less than admirable. Before someone throws a #notallmen at me, I know. I just don’t know where those “good guys” are. Being single at my age is hard. Guys have settled down. They are married or in relationships. Some may be divorced. The ones that worry me are the ones who have never been married. Why not? Some of the ones that are left were discarded for good reason. I also don’t get a chance to really go out and put myself out there.

Sleeping alone was a big hurdle for me to jump. I am a cuddler. I am very affectionate and physical touch is my main love language. Being deprived of that does take a toll on me. I cuddle my children as much as I can, but it just isn’t the same. Other than that I have had wonderful friends supporting me through the hard days. I am very fortunate to have these friends and feel blessed to be surrounded by people that care about me.

Something else I am doing is working on getting university certification. I was nominated for a course through work called ‘Women in Leadership’. The course is done through the University of the North West and will continue till April next year. It is as much an instructive course as it is a personal journey. It calls for deep reflection and gives you tools to understand yourself, the people around you and how to harness the power you have. I think this opportunity was presented to me in exactly the right time of my life as I need to rebuild everything from scratch and re-frame the way I look at myself and everything else. I am endeavouring to make a success of this. I want to use it as a spring board to jump into my new life and soar to new heights. Wish me luck!

To everyone that has nudged me to blog again, I apologise for taking so long. I needed to work through my stuff before I could put it out here. In the past I have use my blog to work through my issues. I used to blog-it-out through the hardest times in my life and it was cathartic for me. For some reason, I couldn’t do it with this. I am starting to take charge of my life and my future in a new way and I feel like coming back to blogging should be a part of that.

For those of you who have returned, thank you for coming back. I hope I will be able to continue blogging steadily, as much for you as for me.

The post I am not dead appeared first on acidicice.

Both these kids are howling in bed. Snot en trane.

They are now plotting to run away together tomorrow.

They plan to take the fish with them.

Gabby is asking where my fish will be.

She doesn’t understand how the fish tank goes with them and my fish stays here.

Elijah says he will buy another tank.

Mommy is rude. Now they are talking about how they will move to Salma (a neighbour) and Salma’s mommy will make them food.

They have now realized they can’t have another mommy, that I’m their mommy no matter what.

This messes with their plans.

They are legit blowing their noses and having a mother of a snot fest.

I so much want to comfort them.

Gabby: I want boooooooobies!

Elijah: Mommy won’t come. She is rude.

Gabby: I got a plan now.

*whispering*

I can’t take much more of this. 

They hate me.

Elijah says I don’t care about them.

Gabby is screaming at me that I hate them. Why won’t I lay there?

Elijah: Mommy cares more about sleep than she cares about us.

Gabby is still shouting at me because I hate them. Elijah agrees, because I am doing this. They are each trying to take the blame. She hates me. No, she hates me. I wish I could record this. Gabby can’t stop crying. She needs her boobies. This is torture. Gabby says her heart is breaking for mommy right now.

Elijah tries to negotiate. Mommy, just give her 5 minute boobies please!

Gabby: No! I want INFINITY boobies!

I can’t take this. It’s killing me.

To my credit, they both feared leaving the room. They were warned not to. Every now and then I would tell them “I love you. Go to sleep!”, especially amidst all the “MOMMY YOU HATE US!”. Eventually they both mustered up the courage to shuffle slowly towards my room…very close together, in case either of them gets into trouble. Once they hit the threshold their confidence soared and Gabby climbed onto my bed. Elijah followed suit and suddenly all the tears were forgotten.

While I obviously failed at my attempt to sleep train these monkeys, I managed to redeem myself in their eyes I guess. I had to chuckle at their plans to move out and can now definitely see how parents can claim their kids gang up and plot against them. It was heart wrenching and hilarious at the same time.

I don’t know what I am going to do. Sleep training one at a time is hard enough, but sleep training two seems impossible. Since Elijah doesn’t actually have a problem falling asleep, he is not my challenge. Gabby wakes him up when she cries and then they are both whining for some sort of comfort. I don’t want to spend so much time putting them to sleep each night. I need a little time in the evening to myself to unwind, gather my thoughts and relax before I go to bed myself. On the one hand I think that they are only going to be little for so long and eventually I won’t be welcome to lay down with them as they drift off. On the other hand I need to maintain my sanity.

What would you do?

Thanks for reading

The post Please Go To Sleep appeared first on acidicice.

What came home was a tiny fish tank. A starter tank if you ever did see one. Rudi bought a filter and some stones for the bottom and 2 goldfish. One for each of the children. The children picked which goldfish they wanted for their own and named them.  Meet Cinderella (left with the black markings) and Ryan. I procured the “plant” you can see in the background. Next thing you know I’m standing in Stodels looking for fish vitamins, additives to help me clear the water and whatever else I can find to make these fish happy. Within a week I was more obsessed with the fish tank than the kids were. I wanted to decorate it and get a light installed. While getting the water clear has been an uphill battle and I’m still not happy with the clarity of the water, taking care of these fish has become a little hobby that I am quite enjoying. A friend of mine promised Elijah he would buy him something cool to put in the tank, but he was trying to find just the right thing. He finally found something really cool to put in with the fish. On yet another trip to Stodels yesterday I found a third item I thought would look good. I was a little worried I wouldn’t have enough space, but I luckily I did
I bought the purple ‘coral’ and my friend bought the shipwreck which I think looks really badass. I really wanted to buy a plecostomus (sucker fish) for the tank, but the helper at Stodels advised against it strongly since they are tropical fish and probably wouldn’t survive in unheated water. I was quite bummed. I love those darn sucker fish and they serve a purpose as well. I was determined to leave with a fish though and I knew I wanted my own distinctive fishy. I looked for a black goldfish, but couldn’t find one…so….Meet Goldeen! Named after a generation 1 Pokemon that is also a fish with white markings This is MY fish. I started feeling kind of left out not having a fish of my own. Why do the kids get to have all the fun? They don’t. I was so silly excited about this fish I tell you. When I got home I popped Goldeen into the tank and I could tell that Ryan and Cinderella were very accepting. They totally hang around in the tank together. There is a specific corner they like to chill in.

Fish friends! I was told that the maximum capacity of my tank is 3 goldfish. Now there are 3. Problem is…I want more. Now I’m contemplating getting a bigger tank. WHO AM I EVEN? I DIDN’T WANT THE TANK OR THE FISH. One night before I got the extra fish Elijah prayed at bedtime “Dear God, thank you that mommy is so nice about the fish, even though she didn’t want them. ” Seriously though…a bigger tank with more fish would be awesome. These things can get very expensive by the way. You’ll find yourself spending money on things you never thought you would want or needed. Yesterday morning, instead of getting ready for work, I pulled a chair up to the fish tank. I fed the fish and sat there watching them swim after the flakes. I may even have spoken to them. The kids do too. They kiss the fish goodnight through the glass and tell them to sleep tight.

After I got home from work yesterday I decided to overhaul the entire tank. I emptied it out, cleaned the filter, cleaned the glass and the stones and refilled the tank. I know usually you only do half and half when cleaning the water, but I had had just about enough of cloudy/murky water and thought this would help. It did! I managed to get better pics of the fish too

Having fish pets is kind of awesome. Who knew?

Thank you for reading!

The post Something Fishy appeared first on acidicice.

I know I’ve been quiet. I know I’ve been missing in action for a very, very long time. If there is anyone out there that looked forward to my posts, I apologize.

The last 18 months or so I have been going through deep waters in my personal life and still currently am. I am not sure when things will be better, but probably not very soon.

I used to use this blog like therapy. I used to find writing about my life cathartic and blogged through many struggles that I felt were too big for me to face on my own. I’ve always loved the village of the internet that have been in the sidelines rooting for me and supporting me. On some level I wish I could have that now, but I have decided against it in the interim.

Am I still painting my nails? Yes, I am. I just don’t have the energy to photograph and write posts for all of those things right now. I actually have a handful of edited photos laying in my media folder on my blog that require posts. When I go back to them now I can’t even remember which polishes I used, so as soon as I try to start I find myself giving up.

I am alive. I am coping as best as I can and I hope to be back soon. The kids are fine too. There is no need for anyone to worry about me. I’m working my way through everything and hopefully when it blows over I can write all about it for you.

I trust that you will all understand and I hope to have you over again once I am back. Just so that everything isn’t all doom and gloom, I have a picture of me kissing a puppy for you…(not my puppy)

xx

The post The Sound of Silence appeared first on acidicice.