So where do we start? Preschooler with nightmares? Or the fictitious whereabouts of my phone? Or maybe me dreading the month that starts tomorrow?

Let’s just start in the middle since that’s not logical and neither is my life.

Okay Aidan is the preschooler with nightmares – in case that wasn’t clear. He doesn’t always remember them, but those he does remember give me the feeling that he feels out of control and helpless (my grandma was a big believer in the meanings behind dreams and believed that I had a knack for interpretation so she taught me a thing or two – weird I know. Weirder or just as weird as the fact that I can make balloon animals? I’m not sure).

I think the dreams might be coming from a place of fear. He has a very protective nature and mentions his sadness at not being to help people quite often. I personally believe that he has witnessed more than he should have when it comes to crime. Apart from the break in and seeing the results of my brother being attacked by thugs last year, he has also witnessed his dad having to step in and save someone who was being beat up in the street in front of our house and saw a couple of men seek refuge from would be muggers in our yard…to him “bad guys’ aren’t  fictional, it’s not a fuzzy monster under your bed, it’s a knife/gun wielding thug who he has seen hurt his loved ones. The scary part is that we don’t even live in a “bad neighborhood” .

The nightmares has him scared to sleep which means he is tired and cranky and makes getting him ready for school feel like you’re doing the build-a-bear thing,  because he is about as life like as a stuffed animal in the morning. What are we doing next year I ask you…next year when he is in grade R.

The idea of grade R makes me want to cry real tears!!! I’m not ready! He is my baby! Speaking about tears and babies…it’s Logan’s birthday on the 6th and Rob and I are most def in our yearly slump. Our son died and we are left with a Logan shaped hole in our hearts and so much pain and guilt it gets heavy and tiresome. We feel guilty for moving on and for loving again and then we replay Logan’s birth and my brush with death and his untimely death and it breaks our hearts but we just have to get up and show up because there are bills to pay and lives to live.

Talking about bills…why are we having to put down payments on avocados now? Why is the cashier charging me for bare necessities as if I’m asking for shares in the store? Also, do I need a permit of some sort if I wanted to keep chickens and trade the eggs for gold bars or something equally as expensive.

You know what else is expensive? Telling yourself (on Saturday) that you need to double check the insurance on your brand new out of the box phone on Monday but then having it fall out of your husband’s backpack off a boat, into the ocean, the Sunday. And now you’re stuck paying  two years for a phone that has just joined Ariel’s gadgets and gizmos a-plenty and whozits and whatzits galore.

Do I sound crazy? I’m not. My mom got me tested…my anxiety levels are off the charts though and I’m medicated and “taking it easy” (taking it easy should be easy since I’m too broke to do anything, mostly from paying off my guacamole)

I’m 33 next month…(on the 13th in case you have simply always wanted to give me a present and we’re looking for an excuse – I’m partial to art supplies and pretentiously named and packaged snacks.)

Flip I’m annoyed that my phone fell off a yacht with such pretty pictures on there. … I’m legitimately bummed like the prissy little princess I apparently am.

Soooo this blog had been fun lately, I’ve been working with such great people on such fun collaborations and challenges. Talking about collaborations. Luchae and I are in full swing with the #ECmeetup prep for May…very exciting. Before then we have a purge party or two which we are working on.

It’s her birthday next month too…just FYI.

Aidan’s birthday is in April and we are struggling with what to do in the way of celebration, my wallet says just don’t tell him, he is four , what does he know. But realistically this kid has been planning his party for months so a compromise will have to be found, like : I’m probably not inviting Santa despite the insistence.

My train of thought was just derailed (quite coincidentally) by a preschooler with nightmares, shouting at me about a too dim nightlight.

So I shall end of here in the middle of nowhere with a few points.
– thanks for your support and landing me the runner-up spot in the arts and crafts section of the SA blog awards.
– I have a limited run t-shirt coming out soon
– I also suffer from nightmares
– catch me on Instagram for daily stories