Thursday has rolled around again already which means another Polly Dolly, brought to you by the gorgeous Dani over at Danimezza. This week Dani is wondering how Polly might style a....
So Polly is out to lunch with the ladies in her denim. I've gone with a soft, floaty kaftan-esque top and some pretty nude heels keep Polly's legs looking long. Statement hoop earrings add some bling, and the stacked bangles in a similar print tie everything together. Minimal make up, a spray of Pollys favourite day fragrance and an Iphone to capture all the fun photos and Pollys ready to head out!
Have you ever noticed that when you have important-future-type stuff on your mind, its impossible to think of anything else? Or maybe thats just me... all i know is i seem to have a very narrow focus when it comes to important stuff. Its pretty much impossible for me to think on the important stuff for a minute, and then just let it go and move on. No no, that would be too easy... no, i have to let it consume my every waking minute. ( Sometimes, when i'm really lucky, i let it filter into my dreams. Have you ever dreamt about wedding flowers? Important.Stuff. )
See its a little under 6 weeks til i get married but its not the actual wedding thats invading my thoughts - its the "what comes after? ". Mick and I have a little ( and secret, for now ) plan going but we still have to see if its possible. Its one of those things where i could daydream hours away about potential outcomes, about all the great things that will happen for us... if it all works out. And that " IF " is the bit that does your head in, isnt it?
Its the not-knowings that really get me. Sure, i'll be nervous on my wedding day but at least i have a pretty good idea of how it will all pan out. Hair, makeup, get dressed, ceremony, photos and reception - sure there is a few spanners that could be thrown in the works, but for the most part i know whats going on. Its the really big things with all the variables, the not having the answers to all the " what if? "s that make me nervous. And nervous i'll have to stay, at least until tomorrow night, when we have a meeting with some people who can give us a straight "yes " or a " no".
Lets cross fingers then and hope for the right answer! ( Which is "yes", in case you were wondering. A big, fat " yes " )
Ok - so i'm getting all ranty again this Monday ( is it just me or do MOST of my ranty posts happen on a Monday? Coincidence? Methinks not ). Aside from feeling like i've been hit by a truck - thanks to a lovely virus Flynn so thoughtfully passed on to me - i'm also feeling a bit stabby over a lack of communication these days. Or maybe its a lack of manners, or both. Which ever it is, its annoying me.
See i've been trying to organise a school reunion for my Yr 12 class, and it was supposed to be this Saturday night. 10 days ago i go into the place where we had organised to hold the function only to be told that they had double booked the room and because the other party had paid a deposit well... they got the room and we got bubkiss. Apparently whoever took the original booking wrote it up in one diary, but not in the other ( why they would have two diaries in the first place is beyond me... ) and when the other party asked to book our specific room, nobody checked the first book. What.A.Bloody.Shemozzle. All this left me in the awkward position of having to decide whether to try and find an alternate venue with only 2 weeks notice (before a long weekend ) or to just postpone the event.
I chose to postpone. To find an alternate venue at such short notice would have been nigh on impossible and, quite frankly, with my wedding only 6 weeks away i just didnt have the time. However - today i get a phone call from the events manager at the function venue asking whether the reunion was still right to go? Umm...no. What? She said she had been speaking to my co-organiser and that she had found room for us in a smaller function space. Which is all well and good - except that she, the events manager, was supposed to have called ME 10 days ago, not my co-organiser and that i hadnt heard a damn thing about this new arrangement from my co-organiser either. In fact, everytime i've needed her for something i havent been able to get a hold of her. Frusturation much?
So i'm now i'm really stuck - do i try and get the word out there over the next 5 days that the reunion is now back on or do i just stick with the postponement? As hard as it would be to get the word out to everyone in such a short a time i kind of think maybe thats the way to go - i know there are a few people coming from interstate who have tickets booked that they cant cancel, so they will be in town anyway, and also it will just get the whole damn mess off my plate and i can just forget about it. It will be super casual - i wont have time to organise and collect " ticket " money to pay for decorations or food, it would be more like a laid back catch up at the pub. But on the other hand what if not many people see it and the official renunion only attracts a dozen people out of the 80 i went to school with? And people that didnt check their Facebook this week dont know about it and feel ripped off that they missed out?
More importantly - how did i let myself get suckered in to organising something i really dont care about in the first place?
And she's back in a big way! Because the gorgeous Dani over at Danimezza has been undergoing a complete blog overhaul, she's a missed a few weeks worth of Polly Dolly's. However, we're now playing catch ups by doing 3 weeks worth of Polly's on one day! So first up - i'm usually a stripes kinda gal but lets see how Polly does...
I've gone relatively simple and tailored with my dots. I think sometimes polka dots can be a bit over whelming or a bit too cutesy-retro, so i found this sweet 3/4 jacket and paired it with a plain black cami and black skinnies. However, i've added a pop with the acid yellow pumps and great statement necklace, which add a lift to the outfit without out-shining the polka dot blazer. A black clutch, a soft smoky eye and a neautral lip and Polly is ready for a a round of business meetings ( or a round of drinks! ).
Next up: she may have gone a little tailored rock'n'roll in that last set, but this time Polly is pulling out her best glam for a ...
I've had this gorgeous Zac Posen dress sitting in my " All Items " folder forever, and i thought a dinner party would be the perfect opportunity to use it. I love the draping in the dress, and have tried to mirror that with the shoes. I love the coral colour and i think it goes well with gold, so some simple bangles and drop earrings keep the look soft. The heart clutch shows Polly's playful side, and the soft colour of the lip gloss and the nail polish keep Polly elegant. I wonder whats on the menu for dessert?
And lucky last: Polly is normally a city kind of chick but what sometimes, when she goes country, she turns into a....
A cute cotton dress is a must, plus a scarf to keep her hair nice and tidy outdoors. Desert boots cute and casual ( even if they are wedges! ) and the sunnies and suncreen mean Polly is keeping sun safe. Minimal jewellery and no makeup except a slick of lipgloss and Polly is ready for a prairie adventure....
So .... yep, i've been missing for about a week. Sort of regularly absent for almost a month. I had my work conference and then i gave myself a bit of time away from the blog, and then my friends baby died and then i had day surgery.... which all equals a bit of a loss of blogging mojo.
But i'm back baby! Consider this my return to form ( if i ever had any ) and a promise to post my regular 4-5 times a week.... at least for the next 7 weeks anyway.
Oh yes the official countdown is well under way - 6 weeks and 4 days until i get married! After that i'll be on my honeymoon for a week and as much as i like you all, you arent all coming on my honeymoon...
Today was little Brody's funeral, and it brought me completely undone.
I can only imagine how incredibly hard it must have been for his mother - to wake and prepare for the day that she will be putting her 6 week old child to rest forever. To deliver a very moving eulogy, to share her babies story with a church full of people without collapsing in tears. To hug every mourner as they left the church, to smile and accept their condolences without wanting to scream at them. To nurse her other child on her lap, to hug him and squeeze him as they lowered her baby's casket into the ground. I know for sure she is a much braver woman than I.
I would have been a bawling, weeping, moaning mess. You know the Muslim women you see on the news, the way they howl and paw at themselves, throwing themselves to the ground? That would have been me. And i wouldnt be finding comfort in religion of any kind - i dont mean to offend anyone but i hate the hypocrisy of Catholicism. I hate how when good things happen it is Gods glory, his miracle, his wonder; but when babies are stolen away from wonderful kind people its all " God works in mysterious ways " or " He must have needed that angel back ". God gets all the glory but never the blame. Frankly, i think thats absolute crap ( and a whole other post ).
So i went, and i wept for what my friend had to go through. I wept for the thought of what i would do if it were me and my child. And wept for what my parents would have had to do almost 22 years ago. I wept for the little boy they had to put in the ground. And when little Brody's burial service was over i went to my brothers grave and i collapsed onto the grass and i cried there, with him, privately. I cried for all those things and more. I spoke with my brother and i told him how Flynn knows his name ( even though he doesnt pronounce it properly ) and how he can point him out in photos. I told him how Flynn is built like him, small and nuggety, and how our Dad says Flynn reminds him of his son. I promised to bring Flynn to his grave and tell him that we love Uncle Eli. And as i wept and talked and tried to arrange my flowers as best i could, two crows flew overhead.
I dont know what you, out there, believe - but i know what i believe, and i know who those two crows were and why they were there, watching over me. I carry them on my shoulders ( quite literally, tattooed there forever ) at all times, and today they came when i needed them....
So - i am lucky enough to be going in for a spot of day surgery today ( can you feel the sarcasm in that sentence? ) In the interests of being completely open on this blog, lets just say i'll be having an exploratory procedure - via the bottom. Or, to be proper, a colonscopy. Yep, thats right, thats where they take a tiny little camera on a tube and shove it up your you-know-where. Its usually the domain of persons over 60 years old but, as i said, i'm "lucky" enough to be one of the few young people who get to have it too. Like i said, its pretty much exploratory so the doctor is looking for the cause of some symptoms i've been having. Best case scenario? Its plain old haemorrhoids that, in all likely hood, were caused by pregnancy ( thanks Flynn! ). Worst case scenario? He could find that i have an auto immune disease, which would mean daily meds for the rest of my life and a strict diet ( thankfully, he seems to already ruled bowel cancer out ).
So - please excuse me if i dont post for the next day or two. I've already had a full day of no food at all, and am allowed precisely nothing ( no food, no drink ) today until i wake up after surgery. My point is that i'm near delirious with hunger and later this afternoon i'm expecting to be relatively drug-addled after anaesethetic. Probably not the best conditions for blog posting ( unless you like a good drunk post or two ).
And now that thats out there, let me finish up with a bit more TMI - i'm hitting the shower to shave my legs before i go to te hospital. I mean, what kind of lady wants to present herself ( bottom first mind you .... ) with hairy legs?
I know i wont be the only one to post about this today but - its been 10 years since the September 11th terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center in NYC. Unfathomable at the time, and i think even in the jaded world we live in post 9/11 there is still something of the " How could they possibly have done that ? " about it all. So, in memory of all those who lost their lives that day, i'm going to re-post an entry i made back on September 11th 2008 ( 3 years ago and on the 7 anniversary of the attacks ):
The question was asked in my local paper today - " Do you remember ? " Frankly, i thought it was a stupid question. How could anyone possibly forget ? Of course, I'm talking about the atacks on the World Trade Centre 7 years ago today. What kind of person could ever forget the articles and the images accompanying them, even if they wanted to ?
I was in Year 12, my final year of high school, in 2001. The attacks had occured overnight, Australian time, and I remember my mother waking me earlier than usual telling me that two planes had crashed into the Twin Towers. Still groggy with sleep i wasnt exactly sure what she was raving on about - until she made me turn on the tv. I sat in bed, still in my pyjamas with the sheets bunched around my knees, horribly transfixed. I didnt want to see planes punching holes in steel, or desperate people leaping from buildings, or faces covered in ash, a trail of tears tracing its way down their cheeks. I didnt want to see that, but i couldnt look away. I didnt want to see that , and i dont want to remember, but i do.
I went to school early and gathered around a radio with about 30 other seniors. Any 12 or 13 year old Year 7 kid that even let out so much as a peep got threatened with the evil eye and a " Shut the fuck up, you idiot! ". I think it was obvious that we all knew we were witnessing an important moment in history. We Year 12 students were allowed to have the radio news playing in every class that day, probably as much for the teachers benefit as it was for ours. I dont remember which algebraic equations i worked on that afternoon, but i do remember wincing as a light plane flew over my maths class room.
My brother worked at the local McDonalds after school, and i went with my mother to pick him up at the end of his shift. It was unusually quiet, not many families calling in to pick a Big Mac or a Happy meal; i sat at a table staring up at the tv and cried. Bawled, in fact. A totally public place, good old McDonalds Family resturant, and i had nowhere to hide, but i sobbed my heart out at what i was watching. The news reports just kept repeating the same images of people jumping to their deaths. I couldnt help but wonder what last lonely thought they may have been thinking to push them to that extreme. Nor could i help but despair at such a waste of life - and for what ? None of us really knew at that point.
I didnt know anyone in New York City. I didnt even know anyone who lived in the US, but my heart bleed for the families who lives had been irrepairably damaged by such insanity. I wondered what they must be thinking, feeling, hoping, praying; I wanted to let them know that they werent alone in their loss and their sorrow. And i did, by writing a letter to the New York Times. I doubt that it was ever published, by message of support was there on the internet, recorded for all of humanity to see. If i could have helped dig through that rubble, to comfort a crying child who had lost a parent, to donate blood or skin to burns victims, I would have. I may not have been there, I may not have lost any of my people, but i felt it all the same.
It wasnt until i lived in the US during 2005 that i got some insight into what it was really like. I lived in NJ and my host father worked in New York City. On a trip to the local zoo one cloudless, blue sky September day with my boys and their grandparents, I noticed Grandpa Jerry sitting on a fence alone, just staring up at the sky. I asked him what was going on and he told me he was just reflecting - this was as perfect a day as that one looked like it was going to be. If the youngest of the boys had not been born the day before - September 10, 2001 ( happy birthday H! ) in a hospital in Jersey - my host father would have been there, one block from the WTC, when the planes hit. My host father had lost people he knew but luckily had been given a healthy, beautiful baby boy to take his mind off all that.
I dont mean to dwell on these things of course; but isnt that what remembering is ? Isnt remembering dwelling on the past, whether it be good or bad, and whether we want to or not ? Sure, I could have gone through today pretending like i didnt know the date, had forgotten its significance, or focused on sending good birthday vibes to my little H ( who is now big... ). But kind of memorial would that be ? What kind of respect would that be showing those who lost their lives ?
Honestly, I dont particularly want to remember, but some things you just cant forget....
So after yesterdays news i've been keenly aware of and crazy in love with my son today. I felt a pang in my heart for what my friend has lost, and couldnt help but imagine myself in her situation. It did upset me for a little while, and then it made me want to run to my son, scoop him up, and never let him go. Of course, that just isnt possible ( especially not with such an active and wriggly toddler ..... ), as much as i wanted it today.
What i did do is just took the time to really be with him - not just in the same room, not just absently mindly playing with him whilst thinking of something else but actually "being" with him. We had a playdate with another mum from mothers group during which i let him run and play and do his own thing but the rest of the day i made him my focus. Even when out shopping with my sister i made a point of talking to him, doing wheelies with him in his pram, rubbing his hair as we strolled - little things that made me feel connected to him.
He fell asleep in the car on the way home from the shops and i put him gently in his bed. When he woke after half an hour a bit distressed ( he's cutting his canines and they arent playing very nicely... ) instead of shushing him for a few minutes and then shutting the door i climbed into his bed with him, snuggled in under the doona and we had a nap together. Its been a long time since we've had a nap together and it felt good. Not only to get a bit of extra rest, but to have that snuggly, warm, bonding moment that i'm sure will be less and less frequent as he gets older.
Once he finally gets to sleep tonight ( again, those teeth are playing havoc ) i might go in and steal one more baby kiss before heading to bed. I'm just hoping my own sleep tonight is less restless than last night, when i couldnt seem to shake the sadness of the " what ifs? "....
This one is short and sweet, and goes out to a beautiful family who lost their little man today. KM, another mum from my mothers group, gave birth to a gorgeous little man on the 27.7.11, 4 months premature. Today, despite fighting with every little fibre in his tiny body, baby Brody slipped quietly away to join all the other babies, taken too soon.
May he sleep peacefully where he is now, and know that we keep him in our hearts for ever.
So - you may have noticed that not only did i go AWOL for the four days that i mentioned i would be Rockhampton, but that i also gave myself the rest of the week off from blogging too. As much as i like to keep things up to date, to keep the posts coming and the blog chugging along, i think i need a wee little break every now and again. But what did i get up to with all that spare time away from the blogosphere?
Monday: Dropped Flynn off at daycare. Did not get so much as a " Goodbye Mummy, i love you ". Cursed him under my breath for being such a turd. Got dropped to the airport, checked in ( along with my partner in crime, J ) only to find our fligh out of Dubbo was going to be 40 mins late. Made it to Sydney, checked in on a different airline, met up with the 4 other NSW staff members headed to the conference, and wolfed down some Maccas in time to make it to our gate for boarding to Brisbane... and found out this flight would be 40 mins late. Spent the majority of the flight wondering if we would make our connection to Rocky. Got there just as boarding opened, caught my third flight for the day and landed in Rocky pretty much on time. Dinner time actually. Checked into our rooms, freshened up and met Queensland staff members for tea. Not enough meal allowance to order dessert ( boo! ). Head to bed absolutely exhausted.
Tuesday: Full English style breakfast ordered at 8am, made the conference room at 8:55am. Actually interested in the mornings presentations. An hour for a pub lunch - at a table of 19 managed to sit myself across from the chattiest staff member there. Get a case of threethirtyitis mid afternoon and struggle to stay awake in front of the boss. Break for the day just before 5pm. Back to the room for a freshen up and a dose of Music Max. Meet 6 other keen staffers for diner ( the rest were pikers - boo to them! ). Find a great boutique pub bistro and have one the nicest dinners i've had in a while - including dessert! Order the apple tart tartine and am gobsmacked when it is not just one slice but the WHOLE BLOODY TART. Do the best i can to tackle it but, even with sharing a piece, can only manage to finish two thirds. Can barely walk back to the motel... am too full of apple tart.
Wednesday: Bacon and egg breakfast ( again ) ordered at 8am, made conference in time to get the seat right next to the national boss. Yay. Dont mind so much as very interesting round table discussion til morning tea, and then discussion on customer service. Big boss puts confidential notes in front of her on the table - apparently thinks that i either cant or wont sneak peeks at it when she isnt looking. Lunch at the same pub. I dont know how but i manage to get the seat next the big boss at lunch aswell. My salmon is slightly overcooked but the lemon/lime/bitters goes down well. Stay awake and alert for the last afternoon session. Finish the book i started on Monday before dinner. 17 of us head to the same boutique pub as Tuesday night. After a lovely chicken scallopine i decide to tackle the apple tart again. This time make it two thirds of the way through by myself. May have finished the whole thing if it werent for few Midoris i'd already consumed ( yay for open bar tabs! ). Make it back to the motel despite my enormous apple tart belly. Repack suitcase - couldnt be arsed doing it at 6am.
This is NOT my boss - ha ha, i wish!
Thursday: Up at 6am and at the airport an hour and 10 minutes early for our flight, thanks to a particularly edgy staff member. Grab a crappy airport cafe breakfast ( tastes like cheesy cardboard ). On and off our first flight before the time i would usually leave for work. Potter around Brisbane airport and invest in a new book. Also bought $11 worth of mixed lollies ( rip off ). Brisbane to Sydney is uneventful - so uneventful in fact that i manage to drift off for a half hour nap. Grab some lunch with J, do a couple of laps of Sydney domestic and then settle in at our gate to wait for boarding. Actually have a flight with REX that arrives AND leaves on time ( incredible! ). Spend the flight trying to rest but giggling at the conversation from the couple behind me ( work in tv production, bitching about their bosses, filming out west, planning on driving to their destination 4 hrs from Dubbo at twilight - bad idea! ) J and I were two of the last people off the plane but the first thing i notice is Flynn pressed up against the terminal window, marvelling at the plane. Once he notices me he gets all excited and runs towards me as fast as his little legs will carry him. One huge mummy huggle and short drive later, i get tea cooked for me at my mum and dads. Mick drives us back to our place where, after putting Flynn to sleep, i collapse into bed, totally cactus.
Friday: A regular day at work, except that we're playing catch ups from the four days we were away. Barely have time to scratch myself. Make up a batch of spag bol for tea because, frankly, i couldnt be bothered doing gourmet. Again, i hit the sack before 8:30pm. Around 10pm i hear Flynn wake but Mick is still in good daddy mode and goes to him, and ends up sleeping in Flynns big boy bed with him. Good job Daddy - a calmed child and i get the whole bed to myself!
Saturday: Am gifted a sleep in by my gorgeous fiance. Feel so rested up on waking that i finish our shopping list while i tuck into my cereal. Go out and buy some new work shoes while Mick goes down to his shed and washes his work truck - meet back at home and then head out for groceries. Pop to the neighbours with Flynn for a quick visit when we get back. Flynn loves the little girls and teh dogs next door, so far is a bit scared of the mum ( big sook ). Once he figures out that K has swings, a trampoline, a pool AND can ply him with lollies they'll be good friends. Lots of cleaning and clothes washing done in the afternoon. Made some yummy chipotle chicken wraps for tea and watched " Monsters Inc " before bedtime. No wild saturday night for this little black duck!
Sunday: Flynn gives Mick his Fathers Day presents in bed, but instead of saying " Happy Fathers Day " he says " hello Cookie bird! " ( methinks he was dreaming about his aunties talking parrot... ). Go out to local nursery/cafe for Fathers Day brekkie with my parents, my younger sister and my brother and his family. Yummy French toast and fresh orange juice. Also lots of being dragged by the hand to see the fish in the pond. Flynn lets a combination of teething and finally becoming clingy ( which i thought he might, once i came back from Rocky ) turn him into a complete and utter feral child. Combination of sookiness, squealing and toy throwing drives me up the wall. Manage to get him to fall asleep after an hour and half on my lap. More sookiness when he wakes up which thankfully wears off when we go to my parents for bbq dinner. Good food, big laughs. Come to the conclusion that both my son and my father may just be nuts. Still, settle into warm bed to watch " Underbelly: Razor " with a big smile on my face....