Bodies are funny things. I'm pretty proud of mine. I never used to be. Before I had children I was always so selfconscious- I used to try to hide my tummy, legs, everything. I thought I was so unattractive, why bother trying to make the best of something that obviously had no best?

But that's all changed. Now I'm proud of it. I'm proud of it for doing its job very well three times over. I've grown and carried three beautiful, healthy children in my body. I've given birth easily three times. And each time, my body has bounced back, looking pretty much the same as it did before. But I'm not only proud of it for its baby making ability. I'm proud of my body because I think it looks good. Sure, my stomach could do with a workout. I'm certain my arms could look less like an old woman at bingo. But, on the whole, I have no complaints.

And these days, it pains me to hear young women slagging off their bodies. I wish they could have the understanding now that they will have in years to come. I wish that ten years ago I had learnt to appreciate what I looked like and that I hadn't wasted all that time wishing I was thinner, taller or whatever.

And I hope that in future years, I will be just as content.

I want my life to freeze right now. I love the life I'm living now and don't want anything to change.

I have my handsome butterball baby, my lovely little spitfire of a toddler and my beautiful girl. I have a husband who I love and who loves me, I have a house that is perfect for us. I have everything I could ever want or need.

It seems that being content is a rare thing. So many people are always looking to the next thing, the next challenge. And before they know it, life has sped by and they've spent it looking for something they can never find, something that's always just out of reach.

I never used to be content. I used to be always searching, not knowing what I was looking for, or how I would know when I found it. Over time, I've slowly learnt to stop, to quit searching for that which I will never find and just be ok with who and what I am.

In the past few years, life has come to me, and I've found that the best thing to do is to stop fighting it. I believe that life has a plan and will play out the way that has been destined for us. And I'm going to go with the flow and enjoy the ride.

Sleep. It's a precious commodity in this house at the moment.

Generally, all the children have been pretty good sleepers. Aside from the horrific time when Alex was a baby, you would expect to put all three to bed and not hear from them again until morning. Zachary especially, has always been an excellent sleeper.

Times have changed. All three, for the past month or so, have been waking at least once a night. At LEAST. Amelia seems to often have bad dreams, and will wake screaming, dragging me from sleep, my heart racing, stumbling out of bed to her to try to get rid of whatever unseen monster is occupying her thoughts. Alex has a habit of waking very early- sometimes four thirty, sometimes five. Sometimes, two. Two AM. And not going back to sleep. He will stay in bed, but get progressively more vocal.

And Zachary. Zachary takes the sleep (or lack of) cake. Last night for example, I got six hours sleep. That six hours was broken four times by the youngest member of our family. Not needing anything more than a stroke on the head. Sometimes, the three of them tag team. Last week, I got up EIGHT times in the one night.

I wonder how one can keep going on such small amount of sleep. Surely it must come to a head one day. Perhaps those people who suddenly go postal have been sleep deprived and stressed for years.

But, for today, my eyes are heavy, my head hurts and I am sadly lacking in motivation.

Decisions are very difficult.

I'm not talking about the decisions you make every day- ice cream or chocolate for dinner? Well, that one's easy. Both!

The hardest decisions are the ones that involve your children. You so desperately want to do the best for them. You want so badly to make the right choice. And you wish that somehow, you had the ability to see into the future- just for this one thing. You want to make the right decision because you are responsible for your child's happiness. Rightly or wrongly, you place their entire future on this one decision.

Everybody wants their children to be happy.

And you can't help but think of the butterfly effect- every choice, no matter how seemingly insignificant, changes the course of their future. Every choice impacts on their future happiness.

Before you become a parent you understand how terrible, how difficult it is to decide. But the absolute enormity of how your world has changed becomes apparent when that little helpless human being is placed in your arms for the first time. And then, you truly KNOW what it's like to have full, unending responsibility for this creature.

And as time goes on, and your children grow up at the speed of light, the decisions get harder and more complex. And with every choice that needs to be made, the worry about your children and their future grows too.

Drugs, Babies And A Charmed Life

I visited our neighbours this afternoon. I knew that they were foster parents; however I was unprepared for the little bundle of blue that was put into my arms not long after stepping into their house. I looked down and a little sleepy, smiley face looked back. This baby was with these foster parents because he had been born addicted to drugs and is currently on morphine to deal with that addiction. The baby had had such a hard life and he was only ten weeks old.

I couldn't even begin to understand how a need, any need, could be greater than ensuring the safety and wellbeing of my child. This baby's mother obviously put her own desires ahead of her child, and that to me is incomprehensible.

And then I thought about our own children. And how lucky we are, as a family.

How lucky I am.

I have a husband who loves me. I have three beautiful, healthy children. I have the luxury of being able to stay at home and take care of those children. I don't need to go out to work. I have all the support I could ever ask for, I have a lovely home, I am surrounded by people who love me.

Never in my life have I felt so fortunate, so blessed.

I was in love with a man once. His name was Julian and I thought he was GREAT. He was my tutor at university. I remember I arrived early for the first tutorial, he was already there, we started talking and from that day forward, I thought there would be no other man for me. We didn't start seeing each other at that point- it was, after all, against university rules. I didn't even know that he was the least bit interested in me...until I received A after A after A for assignment that I'd hurriedly completed the night before. It was actually me that asked him out...after weeks of pussyfooting around each other.

That first date was an epic fail- I thought he was an idiot. Neither of us knew what to say to each other and we mostly just sat there grinning. However, the next date, and the next were a lot better. Before I knew it, I was head over heels in love. Then he broke his news. He'd graduated with his PhD and couldn't get an academic job in Dunedin. He was off to Scotland. I was heartbroken and briefly considered going with him- however, my life was here and I hadn't yet finished MY studies. Leaving was not an option, but neither was being without him.

I was miserable in the days following his departure, but was soon comforted by the emails from him that would pour into my inbox while he was supposed to be working. Emails would fly back and forth every night for four or five hours. I had no life during this time- I was almost scared to be away from the computer. We learnt more about each other through emails and the odd phonecall than we had while we were in the same country. He would routinely book holidays to Spain, Italy, Budapest and many other countries. I'd receive a postcard from each one, signed off with plenty of hugs and kisses.

I knew that he had a flatmate, Katharine, who would go on these holidays with him. She was an academic too, and they both enjoyed hiking and camping. Then one night, after he'd been off to Italy, I got an email from him. It read something along the lines of I'm sorry, but I've slept with someone else, I love her and I'm going to be with her.

I was devastated. I thought my life was over. Life pretty much did stop.I went to work, I came home, I went to work. I dabbled in relationships with other people, but couldn't put my heart in. Then came another email from Julian. His visa had run out and he was coming home. I knew he was still with Katharine, but I couldn't help myself. When he returned, we took up where we'd left off. And again, life was peachy. But it didn't last long. He'd been granted another visa and he was back off to Scotland- and back to be with Katharine.

I nearly had a nervous breakdown. I was ordered away from work for two weeks because I could barely function. I spent most of that time sleeping and crying. I simply could not believe that the love of my life had left me- again. I had thought my life was over before; well, this time I KNEW it was over. I resigned myself to living alone forever.

Life moved on around me, but I was rooted to the spot. I refused to go on dates with anyone. What was the point? They could never measure up. Julian had left me in the October and somehow, without me, life had moved into bright, sunny February. I shifted into a new flat, and to celebrate, we all went out one night. And that was the night I met my husband.

I was rude, careless and less than charming towards him. I figured that he'd just turn around and leave so why bother getting close? But this man was different to all the rest. He was persistent. My attitude didn't put him off, and slowly I let my guard down. I had been so determined to never, ever fall in love again, but somehow I couldn't resist. Before long, we were inseperable and were talking about getting married.

And that's exactly what happened.

And Julian? Well, I don't know. I receive the odd email from him, which goes directly into my deleted folder without being read. The last I heard, he was living about forty minutes out of Dunedin with Katharine. I just don't care. And when I look back, to that awful confused time, I am angry with myself for letting someone else have that power over me. And I am so so glad that life has worked out the way it has.

New Year's Eve

In a previous life, I used to go out on New Year's Eve. I never had a particularly good time- high expectations mixed with copious amounts of alcohol are always going to equal an epic fail. But now I have children, New Year's Eve has been spent at home...usually asleep long before the magic hour. And this year is no different. All three children are asleep and have been for hours. My husband is playing GTA and I'm in bed.

There was a conversation this evening about children. I love having children. I would have many many more if I could. We were having a conversation I never thought would take place and that was discussing having more babies. I am well aware that my husband doesn't want any more babies, and yet we were talking about it so logically- where we would put another one, how would we afford it- that I actually started to think it might become a reality. Then when I realised the conversation was completely arbitrary, my heart broke. I could feel my eyes start to prickle with tears and I was trying to hold them back.

Logically, I know that we are done having babies. But I think as a mother, that is a very hard thing to accept. There is so much love, so much happiness in children and the love that you feel for your own child far surpasses any other love. I was made to be a mother and the knowledge that I will never have another child is tearing me apart tonight.