Marriage is anything but beautiful 

You get to live your vows on a daily basis.

“To be my wife/husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

As a husband and wife you get to see the absolute worst part of that person’s soul. When they’ve been disappointed, mad, sad, stubborn, so annoying that you want to knock him out with the Le Creuset pan. When they are so unapproachable and unlovable all you want to do is shake them by the shoulders. 

But you also get to experience special moments with that person. The unnamed emotions when your first baby is born. The silly moments teasing each other in the kitchen, taunting, joking. The highs and the lows that, that person gets to experience in their lifetime.

You get to see the gross parts. When that person wakes up after a surgery and they mumble the weirdest stuff, the bed farts, morning breath. When he is sick and can’t even reach for the remote because of Man flu.

Marriage isn’t a one size fits all. It’s anything but beautiful. But it’s a rollercoaster ride you get to experience with hopefully one person for the rest of your life. Because that is love. It’s perfect in it’s imperfections. 

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On the dark days

Sometimes it feels like you can conquer Everest without even preparing for it and on other days it feels like you can just pull the duvet over your head in the hopes that your bed will swallow you in.

I’ve struggled with depression for the most part of my teen and adult life. Without going into major detail there has been catalysts in my life that were really hard for me to handle at that stage. More recently I was told by my Doctor that I mainly struggle with Seasonal Depression and anxiety. You see, my head is a busy space. Grand Central of brains, and I retract and sort and work through things there and then I go quiet. Very quiet. And this causes even more problems because my “mood” is mistaken for rudeness. Plus I have bitchy resting face, so fun times all around. 

But I don’t get to lay in bed and eat slabs of chocolate and little pots of Haägen Dazs because I’m an adult and I have responsibilities. There’s no such thing as slouching around in your pajamas with messy hair and to care for yourself. I’ve been having a few of these days as of late. 

As the end of my contract creeps closer and closer, I’m left wondering what’s going to happen with our household. Our family. I lay in bed restless at night and if the slightest thought of job hunting sneaks in, I can kiss my dreams goodbye. 

I guess where I’m going with this is that you just can’t always have a perfect happy sitcom life. These dark days are there to ground, and sort and file through the library that is my brain and get on with life again.

I’m now going to pull the duvet over my head in the hopes of my children thinking the bed swallowed me for real.

A new month closer to the next chapter 

We’re already two days into August and as much as I wish Spring with all the promises of newness will come now (the Winter lurgies just won’t let go of the Martin family) I am scared. 

I’m scared for the main reason that my temporary contract will expire in the beginning of September and so far nothing has come from any of the leads I had or positions I’ve applied for. The unemployment rate in South-Africa has recently been reported as 26.6%. That’s just a little bit above a quarter of our workforce. 

So with my clever Human Resource Degree let me tell you what according to the clever people unemployed is defined as.

Unemployed individuals can be categorised into two groups. Group One which is individuals actively searching for employment and want to work and Group Two whom has no prospect or willingness to work.

I’m in Group One, actively, on a daily basis sending CV’s out. There’s just no way in our current Economic climate one can be without a steady and definite income. There’s bills to pay, cars and insurance, the never ending story of nappies and hungry tummies to feed. But what if nothing comes at the start of the new month? People assume yeah she’s got an older husband, no worries he’ll pay for everything. No, I didn’t marry my husband for any kind of meal ticket and secondly I’m not a lady of luxury. I want to work, as much as the guilt eats me up when I miss an extra hour with my girls because of traffic, I have a want and need to succeed in life in order to provide for them. 

Come September I might just have something going for myself or I might be unemployed. But whatever it is, it all will work out for the best. There is a plan for me.