I rose at the crack of dawn today.
I had a feature article to write (my first and I'm excited) I was also so paralysed with terror that I left writing it to the VERY LAST DAY. Not wise, when that day is also the day that my children start their school holidays and my husband phones to inform me he will be away for yet another night for work.
So I wrote and wrote, and then my babysitter arrived and as I flew up the freeway I completed a phone interview (on my hands free kit lest you judge me) with a journalist about my experience with speech therapy with Mr Small. I also juggled a phone call with my boss about when I would come into work to discuss things that should have been done, you know, last week.
And then I trudged up two flights of stairs and entered a small darkened room with soft lighting.
And it all fell away.
The stress.
The deadlines.
The "Oh dear God, what if they HATE my writing?"
Instead I saw a blissfully happy mother and dear friend. If you don't know our story and history click here.

And my heart got broken open
Welcome sweet Ocea-Marie.


I love you.