Distinctly him…

It’s strange how a certain smell can remind you of someone, strange that a smell can trigger so many memories. I had a weird moment today, walking into my ex’s house. He is away at the moment and the kids and I have been taking care of his animals, checking in on the house, all that stuff. The second I walked in the door I was completely enveloped by the smell of his cologne – so much so that I looked for him, as if he was in the room and not on the other side of the world. I knew he wasn’t there but I couldn’t help but look for him. 

I was reminded of so many significant moments. He has worn the same scent then entire time I have known him and I can associate that scent with so many life-changing moments. I remember that smell, when I told him I was pregnant with our daughter and he was fresh out of the shower getting ready for work. I remember that smell when he sat by my side in the hospital, when our daughter had gone home and I was too unwell to leave. I remember that smell when we went out one night and although I am not very good at public displays of affection, he put his arm around me and kissed the top of my head, and I was so completely consumed by how safe I felt in that moment, that I didn’t care who was looking. 

I remember that smell while folding his clothes, watching my babies argue while we waited for their dad to come out of surgery. I remember that smell whilst patting him to sleep, night after night, when the pain was too much for him to bear. I remember that smell the day that he told me he was leaving me again. 

And that smell today just about wiped me out. I instinctively looked for him and was completely overwhelmed, bombarded with all those memories. It took my breath away. 

His cologne had been knocked off the bathroom vanity (thanks to an inquisitive fluffy fat cat) and as I knelt on the floor to wipe up the mess, I felt the hot tears roll down my cheeks and my heart ached for what I thought would be. I believed in a future with him. I miss him.


Synn xx

Daily Prompt

Daily Prompt

Gray… or Grey!

Hey there! It’s been a long week huh? And its only Tuesday here!

Today was a public holiday here for ANZAC day and it was a weird day for me and the kidlets. We usually head into town for the dawn service on ANZAC day but the kids dad is away and the kids didn’t want to go without him. It’s become a tradition and they just don’t seem to be coping that well with him being away. We did have a moment for ourselves and tried to get on with the day, but they are just missing him so much. And honestly, I am missing him too. Things have been so good with us in the last couple of months that I am really missing having him around. It’s all feeling a little bleak and grey sums that up well right now.

We have been flat out with the bathroom renovation and it feels like it is taking forever, with the Easter break and then today’s public holiday everything seems to be very start-stop-start-stop. But were getting there I guess. Some tiles went up on the wall on Monday, and the bath was installed on Friday so it is happening, slowly but surely. Well its too late to turn back now!

We had a few hiccups, when the vanity didn’t arrive on time and we needed to select a different unit, completely different from what we had ordered. It was a bit of a letdown actually and has changed the look of the bathroom totally, but I had tradies booked and we needed to make a decision as quickly as possible. At the moment it all looks pretty grey and I am really hoping it all looks beautiful when its completed. At the moment Im just taking it all as it comes, trying to be the best mama I can be and keep everything afloat!


Synn xx

Daily Prompt


The door to the office seemed enormous. Deep red frame filled with a thick glass piece completely covered in hand painted flowers, all intricately woven into each other. Tiny little flowers. Millions of them. 

I remember standing outside that door for what felt like forever… deeps breaths girly, just keep breathing, don’t let the clouds take over…

I remember feeling the gurgling in my stomach, the coffee I had consumed that morning threatening to spill itself at my feet.

I remember hearing all the people bustling behind me on the busy street, chattering away in their own conversations, a phone ringing with a pop song for a ringtone.

I remember the smell of the flowers in the nearby garden, pungent and sweet.

I remember the throbbing in my feet, walking here to clear my head probably hadn’t been a good idea. 

I remember thinking how beautiful the door was, thinking ‘I should take a photo’ and immediately talking myself out of it. The door was beautiful, but would only ever symbolize the sickness I felt, the sadness that I knew was coming.

I had to go inside. It was time to say goodbye. 

I pushed the door open and felt the air-conditioning rush out, cooling the tears I didn’t know had fallen on my cheeks. It was time.

Daily Prompt


She was stomping around, making breakfast messily, after getting out of the wrong side of bed after a shitty nights sleep. Her knees ached, her ankles burned, her feet were swollen. Her elbow wouldn’t extend all the way and was making it difficult to reach to pick up the kettle. All she wanted was to make hot chocolate and easter buns, a nice choice for breakfast over the easter break.

She was really looking forward to that hot chocolate. She was hoping the comforting liquid warmth would ease the tension and line her stomach before she had to take her daily medication routine. She smelled the chocolate wafting from the cup as she poured the steaming water in and sighed.

She picked up the cup and searing pain in her wrist bones made her falter for a second. The cup fell to the ground, breaking, and the liquid she desperately craved spread across the floor. Hot tears fell on her pink cheeks, angry with herself for not being able to do the most simple of things. She knows it’s not always this bad, she knows there are some good days and she knows this isn’t one of them. And today, she is cranky. She tries to remind herself that it’s okay to feel that way, even the psych told her that it was to be expected. But today, the whole situation makes her cranky. Cranky with herself for feeling the way she does, cranky that her body wont co-operate, cranky that she cant just do what other kids can do.

She looked across the kitchen at me and shrugged as she started to tidy the mess. I know better than to try and help. That just makes her feel more useless, more hopeless. She  tidies up and goes back to her bedroom, crawls into her bed and cries.

I go to the store and pick the prettiest bunch of flowers I can afford, go home and put them in a vase and knock lightly on her door.

She smiles when she sees them and says ‘oh Mama, its hard to be cranky looking at such beautiful flowers’.

Daily Prompt

Some days…

Hey there, you. How’s the week treating you? It’s been a long week here but I have made it through. Just. Kinda. If you didn’t laugh you’d cry, right?

SO I choose to try and stay positive and see the good bits about it. Even tonight, when I am beside myself, feeling like absolute fucking shit. Some days it feels impossible to keep trudging through the shit storm that is life.

Today I woke feeling dread, anxiety sitting in my chest, sadness in the pit of my stomach. Its Easter and I really tried to keep it all positive for the kids. But the girl child and I were both a little off all day. See, today was injection day. Today was the day that I knew, from the second I woke up, that this evening I would have to hold that little girl down and inject her with medicine that ‘could’ help her to feel better, the ‘could’ ease her pain. Maybe, if it works.

I feel like a special kind of asshole. Seeing my kid in pain everyday, knowing that she is hurting just to get the basic shit done… knowing that it was bad before we even knew what it was and for a long time I told her it was just growing pains and it would get better.

Once a week I give that kid a low dose of a drug that is used to treat cancer. Seriously. And then once a fortnight I inject her with what is essentially a different kind of poison that ‘could’ stop her body from attacking itself. Once a fortnight I hold that kid down so that she cant swat me away and stop me from delivering the injection that ‘could’ help her feel better, knowing that the injection itself hurts her. Knowing that she is going to feel like utter shit for the 4 or 5 days following. Knowing that the medications are creating a kind of brain fog that completely fuzzes her out enough that she has to leave herself notes everywhere just to remember what the hell she needs to do to get through the bare minimum each day.

This kid who has amazing potential, who has known what she wanted to do with her life since she was just 8 years old, this kid who gives it her all every single day. This kid who is smart enough to have done her own research and knows what is coming if she doesn’t let me give her that injection, and if she doesn’t take the tablets that make her want to crawl into bed and never get out again. This kid who dreads the injection and the tablets and cops it, kicking and crying, because she just wants to feel better. And then apologizes to me, because she knows it makes me sad.


Synn xx

13 Reasons Why

So, I just finished binge watching this new series on Netflix. The show conveys the fictional story of Hannah Baker, who left behind a series of audio cassettes detailing the reasons why she chose to end her life. Based on a book released by Jay Asher which became hugely popular.

I had tried to read the book when it was first released in 2007 but realized quite early on in the text that I just wasn’t in the right headspace to continue. That seems a little strange to me now because though I hadn’t thought of it til just now, I don’t very often not finish a book when I start. Even if its utter rubbish, I generally continue because I like to have hope that the by the end it will have proven its worth. This was a difficult series to watch for a lot of reasons. It was difficult because I watched and thought of my children. About how damn terrifying high school can be, how cruel kids can be to each other……. It was difficult to watch and not see myself in some of those characters. I know I am not alone when I say it, but I knew how Hannah felt. So many of her experiences were totally normal teenage experiences – but that doesn’t change how totally fkn shitful those experiences can feel.

I still feel that way at times and it can be a mission to find your way out of the darkness. I am in my mid 30’s and I still have a pack of those razor blades, tucked away in the box of all the stuff (hidden in the safe) that I cant bring myself to look at anymore. I have even thought so far ahead that I am the only person who can get into the safe. Not that I think I’ll ever use them but they are there. I should probably go through that box someday when I am feeling strong. Isn’t it strange that we all keep these memory things tucked away because they are so important but don’t go through them because its too hard to deal with the emotional stuff that goes with it.

The series was beautifully made and the cast were incredible. I was so moved by the message in the series and there were certainly some elements of the series that were confronting and made to encourage the viewer to analyze the reasons behind why suicide rates continue to rise, even with major government intervention and millions of dollars being invested in anti-bullying campaigns. But honestly, the series was incredibly overwhelming. The suicide scene was graphic and in the moment watching it, my first thought was ‘shit, is this a fkn instruction guide for every teen who has ever considered it’?. It was intense and gave me chills. Her mother found her in the bath, having cut her wrists open. And that scene was horrifying, like something I imagine is every parents nightmare.  Years ago, a girl I went to school with took her own life and that was back in the day when suicide was heard about but nothing like as common as it seems to be these days. And through her entire funeral, I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful mum, who looked… haunted.

Overall, I am torn by the entire concept of the show/story. Hannah wanted to ensure that the people who she thought contributed to her decision to end her life, knew exactly how they had influenced her. But in the process of leaving those tapes, she aired the laundry and secrets of 13 people, information that could destroy people along the way. 13 peoples lives who are forever changed, good bad or ugly, because she felt the need to make sure that each and every one of them was never the same. (And then she ended her life and wasn’t there to explain, or do damage control). I am torn, and I am unsure how I feel about it all. I know that I had considered the kids watching this series, after all they are teenagers living in the same world as the main characters – but I cant allow my kids that sort of experience without having to do some damage control myself. I don’t think it would be a bad idea for the kids to read the book, at least the scenes could only be as graphic as their imagination allows.

Parenting is hard. I strive everyday to do the best I can, but watching this made me feel powerless. Its a scary world we live in.


Synn xx