I am different. That much is definite. So many aspects in my life have changed. Pretty sure I'd have to say the last 5 years have taught me more than the 18 preceding it. And even though I may not want to acknowledge or give credit where credit is due I know deep down where my grasp on life has come from. I don't regret things these days. They were learning curves, lessons, experiences to take from. And I have. I am trying so much harder, to that extent that it is almost like I am not trying. I am trying so much harder to just let life just happen without forcing it. And yes that may not make sense to you but it does to me. I am not that social sponge anymore. I am not that always-in-control person. I am not that anally-retentive woman. I am different to the girl who became Littlespoon almost 3 years ago. Sure I still have my symmetrical hangups but I call that a quirk - makes it easier to accept. And yes, I may be defined as a mother, a student, a worker and a friend. But I am me, as strange as it reads. I am me and that 'me' is a someone. Someone who has changed. I am in a place that is in a space that is good. I am good. I am happy. I know who I am these days. And so it is with that I leave here. This isn't my place, it never was. The new shades represent and stand for so much more than just black, grey and white - at least to me. It is here my memories shall remain but not my presence. Kia kaha SitD.

Reading old entries. Mine and Others. This Host and Others. Old Memories remembered. Old Memories relived. Feelings stirred. How simple Life was. How unimportant Life was. I Smiled. Both of the Good kind and the Bad. I came through the Good Times and the Bad Times to the Rewarding Times. The time in Life where stuff actually means something more. The time in Life where I am actually Happy. But I won't forget what happened in the Past to get me to the Future. My Present is my Life. One day it will be a memory. An Old Memory, remembered and relived. And I will Smile at it.

I vacuumed, I mopped, I scrubbed, wiped, cleaned. I washed, I hung up, I baked, tidied, organized. I cleared out, I culled, I changed, freshened, made up. I am tired.

Love is when your 3 year old daughter brings you a jumper because she hears you mention you are cold. Gosh she makes me happy. Except when she is sad. Which is pretty much anytime you mention anything to do with her father. The child will go to her numerous aunties and uncles, grandparents and friends without any issue. But her father comes within range of her and BAM she is inconsolable. Every week he does something to upset her and I am left to piece her back together. She tells me she dislikes him for taking her nail polish off, she dislikes him for waking her when she is tired, she dislikes him when he doesn't give her enough to eat. As a 3 year old these things matter. She told me she didn't want 2 houses, she only wanted 1 - Mummy's house. I tried explaining the awesomeness of having 2 houses - 2 beds, 2 sets of toys, 2 toothbrushes. She didn't take to any of it. No matter what my issues or anybody else's issues with him are, I want my daughter to have a decent relationship with her biological father. But alas I can't do anything more but be there for her.

Anatomy lesson from my 3 year old: "Mummy cows have boobies down here *dangles hands infront of her belly* not like me, I have boobies up here!" I then heard a big story about how Uncle David washes the cows boobies after he milks them. Good memory that child. And we need to go get more milk and avacados. Nom Nom.

Four years ago this weekend my Big Daughter was conceived.

I watch my children set the table, serve their own dinner, put their own salt and pepper on. I watch my children cut their own fruit, all 5 different pieces, dispose of their scraps. I watch my children pedal their own bike, ride their own scooter, climb the walls at extreme. I watch my children make their bed, arrange the pillows, place the toys. I watch my children and think wow look at what I taught you. I watch my children and see how utterly fantastic they are. No one can deny it.

Big Daughter had a desire to mention her father this evening. Dialogue from the last hour: Eating our 4 Boerwurst for dinner, enough for one each. 3 year old: "Mummy, Mitch Thoms got sore feet 'cause he went for a walk." Mummy: "Oh, wasn't Daddy wearing any shoes?" 3 year old: No he was wearing gumboots. And he wears jandals too!" Doing our 2 minutes of teeth, cheek and tongue cleaning. Mummy: "How old is my Claw?" 3 year old: "3" Mummy: " How old is my Auriana Louisia?" 2 year old: "2" Mummy: "And how old is Mummy Staci?" 3 year old: "22. And Mitch Thoms is 21." Mummy: "Yes babe, that's correct." In bed reading our nightly stories. 3 year old: "Does Nanna like 'Oh man!'?" Mummy: "Yes nanna likes 'oh man!'." 3 year old: "Daddy doesn't like to say 'oh man!'." Mummy: "Oh really? What does Daddy say then" 3 year old: "Fuck. But Daddy shouldn't say 'fuck', he should say oh dear." Mummy: "Well adults can say 'fuck'." 3 year old: "Just not the childrens." Mummy: " No children aren't allowed to say 'fuck' - only adults can say 'fuck'." 3 year old: "Oh man!" I love eventful weekends. Whoever said a party a day kept ya busy was correct. But shit i'm tired. Got some Fonterra goodness today and then the old black bitch and I went for a walk - she struggles these days. Poor dog. Right the little warm beings I call my children are catching some z's. I'm going to go catch me one. And jump on him. Then continue on with my research.

I'm reclining. And typing. At 40 before midnight. Philosophy essay on commercial surrogacy and whether it should be permissible. Really enjoying this philosophy paper. Love the analogies used in the literature. The incredible depth with which some people think. It's brilliant. I researched this all week and started piecing it together this afternoon. I'm 2/3 of the way through. It's due in two weeks. I spent this afternoons bus trip working on another assignment that's due in two weeks. The assignment due this week was done and dusted 2 weeks ago. I'm on top of things. Including the world. My children have been crazy clingy tonight since picking them up from daycare. Soon enough I'll be in bed, their little arms thrown over me and their heads snuggled up to my shoulders, my baby's cold feet on my legs and my girl's curls in my face. But I wouldn't change it. Not for a thing.

There's a beautiful, beautiful storm outside. I'm watching it.

Lie awake in bed at night And think about your life Do you want to be different? Try to let go of the truth The battles of your youth 'Cause this is just a game It's a beautiful lie It's the perfect denial

My 3 year old seemed to like going on a walk with her Mummy AND her Daddy the other morning. For something that was once a natural occurrence and is now not, it was natural enough.

An awkward moment is lying in some dude's bed, with whom you'd met a couple of hours earlier in a club, and having him run in from the garage and go "YOU'RE ENGAGED WITH TWO KIDS?!!!" Then after all the questioning have him bust out with " Wow, I've never fucked a Mum before!" Tick that off ya checklist then ya cheekie darkie.

Don't fret precious I'm here, step away from the window Go back to sleep. Memories. A conversation triggered one. One I like. I remember the day we took Scott's car up the mini mountain by the motorway. I remember the heavily pregnant chick and her then mister, me, my little baby and a then mister. I remember 4 of us and a baby capsule making our way to the top just to mung. I remember it was a fun, happy afternoon where the sun shone down on us. I remember the laughter from putting the snow chains on Scott's car in an attempt to see which car would make it furtherest up the mountain. I remember Scott' car winning. Then getting stuck. Then my idea getting us unstuck and off the mountain. I remember going back to that mountain not long after that and fucking. Fucking reminds me of Richard. Triggers. Pull. It. My children are in bed, not before telling me they loved me though. They have had a fantastically awesome day, we all did. I like parties. They like parties. And cake. Everyone loves cake.

Big Daughter's educational learning system - RRP $249.99 Little Daughter's zooming scooter - RRP $89.95 Being asked if i'd misplaced a daughter - Priceless. Seriously people as if I would, LOL.

Nothing beats 2 vanilla smelling, clean haired, 2 year olds climbing into your bed and telling you they love you. We had a perfect day, so perfect, I wish everyday was like today. Now instead of watching them sleep I am going to join them, together we will dream, until morning finds us.

I had an urge last night. After Outrageous Fortune. It just jumped out at me from under the rug. Much like a hernia. Just not.

I am inked. Twice.

My calluses are sore. Hauled my ass up a 16 today at rock climbing. Not my best by far, however considering I haven't been in yonks I thought it was a pretty decent attempt. And I forgot to take my chalk bag. There was a super sexy tanned guy who was lead climbing - gosh he had strong arms and climbed with such ease. We then went to the pools and sweated our butts off in the sauna. Was extremely good, extremely hot and extremely relaxing. So much so I am heading back tomorrow after my run. I hope it's rain, I love to run in the rain. In other news: - I have Twilight on my iPod. Woot. - all my uni work is up-to-date. I am now actually managing to finish my assignments a week before they are due - I am yet again about to get older - the kids are learning what each letter of the alphabet looks like - our library books are almost due back - kids birthday presents are well and truly bought - I love huge televisions - I can once again enjoy candlelit baths - road trips are imminent and most anticipated - I need to mow the lawns - I am extremely excited about Queenstown - it is half 10 and pretty damn cold! Above mentioned gunman described as: -obsessed with guns -grows dope -is paranoid about people breaking into his house - and is a loner Do you know him? I think I do. He's Jan Molenaar of course. Will leave it at that. For now.

with the leaf litterage on Alfred St. The crunch under foot, no concrete visible, the autumn colours. Just naturally beautiful.