a week of bliss

I have been pondering what to write in this post all week, and running two blogs feels like my thoughts are consistently talking in ‘blog-speak’ which is a mish-mash of narrative and reflective prose. I get these wonderful ideas and I think ‘I’ll write about that on Sunday’ but then by the time I sit to write only whispers of the once bright and solid post foundations drift into grey and fuzzy one or two sentence descriptors.

I have a good friend who gifted me a writing journal during my recovery from postpartum psychosis with the advice to ‘just write’. And I did for about a week. I stopped and wrote thoughts, stories, observations, regrets, yearnings… and then I no longer wrote. I made the mistake of reading my journal and expecting for there to be some kind of amazing publishable piece and when this was not the case, I felt cheated. All that time; all that sharing.

So perhaps just taking the pieces that I can recall and intertwining them into some semblance of a reflection, a story of our journey or mirror of our lives will suffice…?

And so without further stalling, I bring you: a week of bliss


We are doing it this week, like seasoned parents ready to take on the week. Mr. A and Master X are recently up from their naps and I am gearing down to prepare for a Sunday afternoon stretch and yawn in our caravan. Bliss awaits me.

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I was aware this week, acutely aware, perhaps because of the moving body inside me or maybe due to the increasing hormones channeling through my skin folds. Master X felt a part of me, like his skin was but a mere extension of mine; as if to burn myself was going to result in a red, hot scalding mark on his tender outer layer. Bliss drifted along my hairs.

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The cravings were hidden for the past 7 days, crouching in the background as if waiting for a cooler climate or a safer place in which to make themselves known. In spite of the healthier choices I managed to gain 500 grams. Which is fine. But when I did finally succumb and take that first bit of a Big Mac… Bliss tingled along my tastebuds and flowed into my brain releasing what felt like a ton of oxytocin.

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I started another project this week, and surprised myself by enjoying it. It started off as an idea from recognising a gap in the market, and then turned into this keen interest. I even wrote my own blog about topical news which will be published later this week. Bliss was feeling empowered by this project; bliss was feeling my passion for education rekindled.

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