Somewhere beyond the sea
Somewhere waiting for me
My little boys stand on golden sands
And watch as the ships go sailing…
Joining the lovely Trish at My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday
Everyday Experiences, Lifelong Learnings
By: mamagrace7112 Comments
Somewhere beyond the sea
Somewhere waiting for me
My little boys stand on golden sands
And watch as the ships go sailing…
Joining the lovely Trish at My Little Drummer Boys for Wordless Wednesday
By: mamagrace7125 Comments
Stepping on the ferry, the day was as spectacular as how I was feeling. Decked in heels, my standard corporate black with a splash of colour clothes and immaculate make-up, dare I say, I was looking spiffy.
And it was a good thing my confidence levels were up because I was on my way to a job interview. My first in over 5 years.
Was I nervous?
Was I excited?
Nope and yeah, kinda, respectively.
As I’ve discovered, job searching is like finding the right boyfriend. The interviews are the dates as you discover whether there will eventually be the mutual commitment of employment.
While the odds were telling me I should’ve been at least a teeny bit jttery about applying for a corporate sales role with one of the world’s biggest technology companies (starting with “G”, ending with “e”), I consciously decided to go into that interview room without any expectations.
I just wanted to see what my stance would be these days in the world of the workforce. Were my past job skills still relevant and marketable?
While I have been interviewed more times than I care to count throughout my career this time was obviously very different.
I’m a mum now. And not only does that force a greater emphasis to achieving a work/life balance it significantly shuffles life’s priorities.
Work was once the proverbial be all end all; furiously working till the late hours closing 7 figure deals; constantly striving to be the best in the sales team; none of that matters to me anymore.
Yet, at the same token, I’m still consider myself a conscientious worker with a searing drive to bust balls. (Figuratively speaking, of course).
Ultimately, the interview was a precarious jump to see what the options are these days for a mum seeking employment:
Being Up Front
If an interview is limited to half an hour, there’s no time to faff around. Rather than running the risk of miscommunication or misconceptions, being honest and straightforward about my limited availability could only be appreciated.
On the flipside, was an opportunity to be assertive and suss out the potential employer’s flexibility.
I wasn’t available for full-time work now, but were they willing to start me off as part-time?
Was there a chance for job sharing?
How about working from home?
Knowing My Worth
I’m a big believer that if you’re confident in your self-worth, that will be reflected positively on your employers. I realized that just because I haven’t had a corporate job in over 4 years, my communication and marketing skills are still highly valuable.
And I made sure the interviewer knew that.
“If At First You Get Rejected”
With every interview, every recruiter I speak with and every rejection I get, I know that it’s ALL leading to something greater. All of it is part of the path to the job that will suit me and my values as a working mum.
And while nothing is EVER perfect, especially a job, there will be the ones that will comfortably sit with me, my family values and current stage of life.
Again, it’s like dating. Gotta kiss a lotta frogs to find your prince.
As it worked out, I turned down the job.
While it was a great springboard opportunity to get back into the corporate world, the remuneration wasn’t worth for me to have the twinlets in daycare 5 days a week.
So, I’m still on the search. Still looking for that froggy prince.
Hopping on board the #IBOT train with Essentially Jess
By: mamagrace718 Comments
***This is a sponsored post. As always, all opinions are my own and all wedding memories,including the flower girl toddler tantrums are genuine***
Barely getting any sleep the night before, the morning had finally arrived. I rolled over in the hotel bed to have a longing glance at Boyfriend Surfer.
Today was the day and I was full of beans.
Today was the day: I was getting married!
The morning of my wedding wasn’t what you would call the most conventional.
5 months pregnant, I woke up bright and early and trotted to my 6am personal training session.
Yes. I was exercising.
Then afterwards, I called up my friend who had come over from New York for the wedding.
“Mikey! Mikey! Wake up! Wake up! We’re going for a swim!! Let’s go!!!”
My energy levels were out of this world.
“Whaaaa? Grace, you do realize what today is? Do you have time for a swim?” he replied drowsily.
I could tell he was thrilled I had woken him up.
“Yeah, yeah! Plenty of time! But we gotta meet up NOW!” I excitedly screamed down the phone.
It took a little convincing but eventually he agreed to meet me at one of Sydney city’s most breathtaking outdoor swimming pools.
Even if Mike had chosen a sleep in over a swim, I would’ve gone by myself, anyway.
After all, I was getting married!
After a few laps, we decided to have a hearty breakfast together at the pool café.
When taking my order, I cheekily asked the waitress if she had a “Bridal Special”.
Mike almost died of embarrassment in his chair but luckily, the waitress was a good sport.
“No bridal specials,” she replied. “But I can make a special omelette ”
I’ll take it! I didn’t care!
I was getting married!
For the rest of the morning, I took it easy. Walking around the hotel room in my Japanese kimono dressing gown, my spirits soared sky high as I passed the time singing and dancing to Michael Jackson on my iPod.
Then, the preparations began.
The hairdresser was late.
My wedding bouquet arrived but wasn’t quite how I had pictured it to be.
My make up artist got lost on her way over. It also didn’t help that her Miss-Know-It-All attitude was annoying my maid of honour (as well as myself).
One of my little flower girls had a toddler meltdown and was sent to the naughty corner for an hour, ruining her perfectly made up hair.
But none of it mattered.
I didn’t care.
Because.
I was getting married.
Beyond the stuff that’s planned, it’s the spontaneous, candid moments that help make the memories of a wedding.
Bride.com.au is a resource website that lists suppliers and ideas set to inspire and encourage brides to be to get away from the stock standard of a wedding; to add those personal touches; to truly make the day uniquely their own.
Mr Surfer and I are coming up to our 5th anniversary in a month’s time. He was telling me the other day how quickly the time’s flown.
Yup. It sure speeds by, which is why I’m even more grateful that our wedding day had so many fantastic moments that we can completely claim as our own.
That’s the stuff that takes you through a lifetime of marriage together.
What’s your most special yet spontaneous wedding day memory?
By: mamagrace7131 Comments
In the fast paced, cut throat world of corporate sales, there was one basic rule that was applied time and time again. It was simple yet effective. And not only was it relevant to “closing deals” but what measured good, reliable customer service.
And that’d be?
“Know your customer…”
Do your research on your patrons. Look through the database, check their past history in dealings with your company. Figure out their needs and requirements THEN base your sales proposition on what they would, you know, be interested in buying from you.
Duh.
There were a few metaphors I’d use to get this point across:
”Would you try to fit a circle through a square?”
“Would you try to sell condoms to the Pope?”
Getting disgruntled with my gym’s hefty fees and little returned benefit, I tried to defeat the impossible and terminate my membership.
(Why do these bloody gyms make it so goddamn hard? It’s like trying to unsubscribe from spam mail…)
Anywho.
I finally filled out and submitted the 10 gazillion forms.
Then of course was the imminent phone call from the concerned “Branch Manager”
After some polite exchanges, we finally got down to the nitty gritty. She asked why I wanted to end my membership. I told her the truth.
She told me to hold.
*Cue high energy doof doof Body Attack gym class music*
A minute or so later she returned to the phone.
“We’d love you to stay, Grace.”
“Well, how about you give me a new towel, backpack and waterbottle?” I answered flatly.
I credit my mother for my ruthless negotiation skills.
Again, she told me to hold.
*Cue more pumped up body attacking gym music*
“Sorry, Grace…I can’t offer you a new backpack. But…”
“Oooh! Oooh! A towel and waterbottle? Yes please!” I excitedly thought to myself.
“I can offer 5 free passes…to our Solarium…”
I could’ve sworn I misheard her…
“Sorry? 5 free passes to???”
“You know, our Solarium…and you…” she didn’t get to finish her sentence because I had no choice but to quickly intervene.
“Um, sorry. Have you looked in your database? Have you seen what I look like???”
At which point, I’m sure a photo similar to this popped up on her screen.
Maybe without the “deer in headlight” look but no change on that shade of cocoa brown.
A few moments of radio silence was followed by the sound of quick tapping on a computer.
“Oh…” came the reply.
She saw the photo…boom!
“Yeah. Exactly. I’m pretty certain I don’t need a tan…”
“Ah, yes. You’re right. No…Ah, sorry” her timid voice faded into the oblivion.
“Okay, then. Bai bai…”
*Click*
And that my friends, was (hopefully) an important lesson for that Branch Manager to “do her homework” and “get to know her customer” before she picked up the phone again.
Seriously, people. I implore you. Do me a solid and tell me the truth:
Do I LOOK like I need a tan???
Joining the gang at The Lounge sharing valiant customer service tales.
Thanks to Tegan at Musings of the Misguided for hosting!
By: mamagrace7136 Comments
It’s 9:45am on a Tuesday. I’ve locked myself in this dark bedroom, trying to recover from this wretched virus. In an hour and a half we’re all due to see our GP because God help me if I have another sleepless night with asthmatic, spewy twins.
I have still yet to unpack my bags from PB Event 2013.
And here I am, blogging.
Priorities, right?
But as always, the Problogger keynote presentation was so inspirational, I was going to burst with so much emotion. Seriously. How can one’s words be so moving, you feel like a rocket ready to take off to the moon and beyond.
Trey Ratcliffe was one speaker who left that effect on me. In fact, I was sobbing like an idiot.
Among the many poignant points he made about blogging, it was his encouragement to face your fears and to never be afraid to break the mould in speaking your truth.
I know for myself, in the early days of blogging, I wrote very differently to how I do today.
I can’t say I never spoke my truth. But the depths of retrospect were definitely still at the skim of the surface.
And while I never consciously thought so back then, I’m sure I had a fear of what people would think of what I had to say.
But as Trey reminded me, this blogging gig – beyond anything – is a journey of self-discovery.
Your blog is like a shovel, you find yourself digging deeper and deeper into the search of your passions; finding how to perfectly articulate deep, complex emotions; figuring out who out there not only “gets you” but 100% truly has your back.
And yeah, sometimes people won’t like you’re truth. In fact, they may rob your words, even steal your entire blog away from you.
But don’t think for a minute, you won’t survive the hate, angst and vitriol.
“Don’t be concerned with what others think of you. People who want to be in your world will softly come in…create your own circle of love…”
For those against you, there will no doubt be double, triple fold who support you.
Having come home to a sickly family, with early morning trips to the children’s hospital and just dealing with a generally shitty time after an awesome 2 days at a conference, I’m overwhelmed by the sweet messages from all of you, telling me and my family to take care; that you’re all sending hugs and well wishes.
And I know, in fact I’m certain, I have my circle of love.
Sharing this on Essentially Jess’ IBOT and the ladies at The Lounge
By: mamagrace718 Comments
It had been like any other hectic weekend visiting my parents. Exhausting road trips, lack of sleep due to unfamiliar surroundings, the craziness and chaos of mandatory family get-togethers.
But something wasn’t right.
By Monday, having returned home I still wasn’t myself.
I was tired beyond comprehension. I was shaky. My stomach felt like it was in endless knots and twists.
Driving to the mall to try and divert my attention, I stopped at the traffic lights and right there my entire world crumbled.
The tears were inconsolable. Nothing could stop me. I was lucky I didn’t have an accident.
Luckily, my GP was available later that afternoon and I booked an appointment in haste.
Within seconds of me walking through the door, she knew.
“How can I help you today, Grace?” she asked
I hadn’t thought about how I was going to tell her what I was feeling; how I was sure I’d lost the plot; that all this tension and angst seemed to come out of nowhere yet it actually was surfacing from the childhood past; that stripping it down to the core, I needed help.
“Um, I seem to have this pain in my tummy and I’m not sure if it’s just indigestion or…” my voice started to fade as I realized how unconvincing my lie was.
“Okay, we can take a look at that,” my GP played along with my little act.
Then, she cleverly caught me:
“But how are you? Are you okay?”
I’ve never cried in front of a doctor. Not when I was told having children was going to be difficult for me and not even when the boys were born.
I take a “Suck it up, Princess” in all matters medical.
But those three poignant yet simple words asked by my GP were like an emotional net ready to catch my vulnerable, completely mentally mixed up self.
Everything about life can be stressful. And sometimes it’s not enough to go solo to survive it.
It’s not about being ungrateful or whinging about what we’re thrown with or complaining about what we’re lacking.
It’s a simple acceptance that we’re all human. We’re not robots. We all need help.
That afternoon was the start of being completely honest with my mental health. That impromptu appointment with the GP, led me to seeking support.
It’s almost been a year since I first cried in front of a medical professional. From then, it opened floodgates.
And that has proven to only be a positive thing.
Today – 12th September – is RU OK Day. It’s a time for us all to remember the power in asking our loved ones, friends and colleagues a simple question that can lead to the prevention of something far more formidable.
The world is filled with a sense of busyness and buzz; we never know what else is brewing deep within ourselves or those around us.
Pause for a moment today and ask someone: “R U OK?”
For that person, it might be life altering, even life saving.
By: mamagrace7119 Comments
***This is a sponsored post. A portion of its earnings has been donated to the Syria Crisis Appeal. As always, all opinions are solely mine.***
Terror has invaded the neighbourhood. The threats and danger of civil war drive you and your family out of your home, everything you’re familiar with.
Your parents desperately instruct you to walk. To keep on walking, through the puddles, in the rain, seeking refuge. Leaving in haste, all you carry are the light, summer clothes you’re wearing, completely unprepared for the cold nights and the upcoming winter months.
You are all but 7 years of age.
Syria is on all the news channels; the hot topic on all streams of media.
What many fail to realise, the conflict in Syria is in its third year, seeing more than 100,000 deaths. More than 3 million Syrians have left their homes, and approximately 1.6 million refugees have fled to neighbouring countries such as Jordan. The numbers continue to rise.
I had to look away from the television screen when the 21 August incident was first reported because the deeply disturbing images were too much to bear. People – both adults and young children – suffering and dying from what appear to be chemical attacks. I say “appear” because despite the blatant evidence, it needs confirmation and that won’t happen, at the very least, in several weeks.
The US reported the death toll at 1,429, including 426 children.
The world waits to see what the US government will do. Does it fight back the Assad regime and potentially risk the involvement in yet another Middle East war? Or does it stand back and while the rest of the world witnesses continued terror and merciless harm to innocent civilians, especially children.
In the meanwhile, our politicians argue senselessly with indignation over their meaningless, heartless policies of how Australia should “solve the boat people” issue.
It’s simple.
When your life is at risk, you run. You don’t care where because anywhere else in the world is safer than the horror and trauma you’ve just experienced in your own country.
But young children don’t understand why they have to run. All they know is that their entire world – in all its stability and innocence – has been robbed. Homeless, cold and terrified.
Prior to the 21 August attacks, UNICEF claimed 1.15 million children had been affected by conflict and violence in Syria. Of registered refugees outside of Syria, 233,00 being children. No doubt, these figures have since risen dramatically.
As the harsh winter months approach in Syria, UNICEF are supporting the ongoing provision of winter supplies, health care and child support.
If you would like to help these children in desperate need, please donate to the UNICEF Australia Syria Crisis Appeal.
**All images sourced from UNICEF Australia website**
Joining the lovely Essentially Jess and her fabulous IBOT team
By: mamagrace7121 Comments
Now that Australia’s recovered from the election hangover, the nightmare of having a Coalition Government leading the country stares squarely right in front of me.
It’s sadly a reality.
We have chosen a leader who doesn’t support gay rights for marriage equality, despite having a sibling who is gay.
We have voted for a man who claims he isn’t sexist yet there’s no denying he believes it would “be folly to expect women to ever approach equal representation in all aspects of public life”
Our new leader doesn’t welcome asylum seekers believing they should return to live a life of peril and dangers yet his background as a 10 Pound Pom comes under a separate, privileged category of immigration.
Yup. For me, Australia’s future looks grim, morbid and hopeless.
But at this point, I’d like to thank Tony Abbott.
Thank him that his double sided, hypocritical views have fuelled a rage that’s determined to closely monitor the next 3 years with a hawk’s eye, ready to pounce on his next gaffe.
That in turn, this anger and frustration has immediately eliminated all senses of complacency. The unstable political climate needs my attention, as well as the rest of the nation’s. That it’s time for more than mere speech but action. Even campaigning.
That as a woman looking to return to work, I will fervently do everything in my power to show society you’re wrong; that a mother’s capabilities go beyond the ironing and housework.
As an immigrant, I can teach my children to be tolerant of other cultures and nationalities. That there are innocent, desperate people who are left without a choice other than to run away from the perils of their own home country; Australia does indeed have the resources and facilities to help them start a new life here.
If you – as the leader of my country – Mr Abbott want my respect, by turn I demand that you earn it.
Thank you Mr Abbott for reminding me that as a citizen of Australia and in this battle to make our country great again, I have just as much work to do as you.
By: mamagrace7125 Comments
My past relationship with coffee was but tempestuous. I’m an allornuthin kinda gal and I gave coffee my complete all – 3 to 5 cups a day all.
Then, I did a nutrition course. While my lecturer didn’t deter me from my daily caffeine fix, it did come to my attention that I wasn’t just drinking the stuff in excess but mindlessly and carelessly.
You know, just drinking it as an emotional crutch to get through the day; an essential mummy survival tool.
So for almost 2 years, I turned cold turkey. (Told ya, all or nothing…).
Then this year, I visited a friend – a lover of fine culinary delights and damn good roasted coffee.
He converted me.
And I’m back again on the coffee cart.
But just like fine art, wine and food, this time there’s an appreciation for its taste and a respect to how the mix of coffee beans make that delectable cup for the morning.
Harris kindly invited me to a coffee tasting event where I learnt the different types of beans – from the strong taste of Robusta to the milder Arabica and the unique blends they make.
One of the big tips for grounded coffee is it’s best to store it in a cold, dark corner of the pantry rather than the popular belief that it needs to be in the freezer.
Even K-Bear has caught onto my special morning moment of having that cup of vitality.
Making me “ice creams” and “muffins” with his play dough one day, he grabbed an empty yellow play dough cup and said, “Mama, you want coffee??”
He then handed that little cup with a big smile and sweetly asked, “Mama, you happy now?”
Oh, yes, my sweet boy. Mama is happy. Coffee makes Mama very happy.
And with that, these days I’ll keep my coffee intake to one cup a day. Two at most with the exception of the make believe one served in a play dough cup.
I’m running a fabulous Harris Prize Pack Giveaway (valued at $200). One lucky reader will receive:
All you have to do is:
Terms and Conditions:
By: mamagrace7127 Comments
Life as a blogger can be so damn tough sometimes.
Just as I was recovering from my fine dining blind date, a week later I was booked in for a surfing lesson, lunch and tour with the famous surf school, “Let’s Go Surfing” at Bondi Beach.
Like I said, tough.
Paired up with my blogger in crime, Chocolate Suze, we were greeted by Tim, our very smiley and friendly surfing guide for the day.
Originally from Tahiti, Tim reminded me how laid back, relaxed and chilled surfers actually are. And why for a highly-strung gal like me, it was a good thing I married one.
Soaking in the sunny Saturday morning, we went for a drive around the famous Eastern Coastal Walk, visiting the neighbouring pristine beaches of Bronte and Tamarama.
All the while, Tim also explained how to do a surf check. You know, look for waves just like real surfer dudes. Über cool.
This happened to be a big tip for me because I never understood why Mr Surfer often drives endlessly from beach to beach, staring intently at the ocean. I thought he was being a big softie daydreamer. I totes get it now. He’s just looking for his perfect wave.
We headed back to the surf shack to get ourselves “(wet) suited up” and ready to shred some waves.
To be honest, I was certain we were going to freeze our tatas off. But working like 3 extra layers of fat, er… I mean skin, the wetties kept us toasty.
Then, came the real test.
I could very well have been forced to eat my words at this point. Yeah, I was married to an avid surfer. Yeah, I’ve surfed in Hawaii, Noosa and Byron Bay. But I had never paddled out on my own wave. Mr Surfer always pushes me on to one. This time, Tim promised that he’d teach me…which of course, would make me a fully fledged Bondi Surfing Girl. Woot!
Surprisingly, the water wasn’t cold. In fact, it was refreshing.
And while I was a little wobbly at first…
I did it!
And did it again!
I still got it!
Shaka!
A big morning surf like that calls for an even bigger lunch!
Tim took us to a local eatery and while watching the waves that we had just shredded minutes earlier, I tucked into this:
Behold, the lunch of surf champions.
Despite, being a Sydney eastern suburbs local myself and knowing a little about getting on a surfboard, there’s nothing like touring your own neighbourhood from the eyes that know it differently. And rather having to constantly rely on Mr Surfer, thanks to Tim, my levels of surfing confidence has shot up!
The sense of freedom from riding a wave is truly indescribable. Doing it all at one of Australia’s most iconic beaches makes it even more memorable.
I reckon everyone’s gotta try surfing at least once in their lives.
As part of the Priceless Sydney campaign, I’m offering readers a chance to win the entire Bondi experience – from the surfing, dining and exploring.
Valued at $289, the 4 hour surfing tour includes:
All you have to do is:
Terms and Conditions:
▪ This giveaway is only open to Australian residents
▪ Closing date for entries is 10 pm AEST Tuesday, 10th of September.
▪ The winners will be contacted via email on the following Wednesday.
▪ If the winner does not reply to my email within 24 hours, another winner will be chosen.
▪ Entries will be judged on merit and decision of the winner will be final.
Joining Essentially Jess for the one and only IBOT