Each year I do a post just before Christmas reflecting on the year been. I kinda did that in my last post already, but it is my first day on holiday today, so of course my mind is letting everything in because it isn't distracted.

 I've been posting a lot more on social media lately. Since Olive has gotten bigger, I havent posted as much. I used to have something to say on the daily about her or the other kids, and now when I look back at my memories on Facebook, they pop up and give me a good laugh, or good feels. I stopped posting for quite a while but lately theres been a lot of things come up that make me realise how important it is to me.

 My hard drive from my old computer shit itself. I didnt back it up. So I've lost all of the kids photos from when Olive was a baby to about 2 years old. And stupidly, when I deactivated my Facebook all those years back, I deleted all the photos because I had no intention of coming back. But here I am, (surprise, surprise) and have nothing to show for it lol.

Now memories keep popping up, and it isnt just photos that get me. Its comments from people who've passed away. It's comments from friends who I cherish but have drifted away from. And it's definitely, definitely the photos. Photos keep emerging of Dad, in particular, from before he was unwell.

And it is hitting me right in the heart.

To see him well, compared to now, brings it all home. You can't help but compare how he looked two years ago to now. It is actually really interesting how a psychological disease can manifest in a physical way. You can SEE the illness in him now. You can see he is unwell.

We know dementia is going to take our Dad. We don't know when, or how long he has. And the memories are a stark reminder of that fact and of how quickly it is happening. But they are also a reminder of the person he is, and the life he has lived.

 So I've been trying to take more photos and videos to look back on later. And once I started doing it, I realised - I should be doing this with everyone! Not just dad. And not just other people - myself too!
We aren't all going to be here forever, and one day someone is going to look back on those and cherish every single one.

 I've always been someone who likes to be in the moment and not consumed by my phone. Some of the best nights out are when there isnt a single photo! But photos are so precious in years to come. And I want to make more of a concerted effort to document those moments, THESE moments, that mean so much now, and in years to come.

 * * *

 The kids have done incredibly well at school this year, bringing home great marks and wonderful comments on their reports from all of their teachers. It's so hard to believe Olive will be Year 4 next year! It really feels like she just started. I have to really remind myself a lot that she isn't the baby girl I think she is, and she is growing up very quickly into an intelligent and clever young lady. She had her first crush this year and while I won't go into it too much so as not to embarrass her, i will say that ugh! The notes between the two were just adorable.

 Jaxon will be Year 10 next year and if this years results were anything to go by, i think he will do fantastically in preparation for NCEA the following year. I've been very impressed with the school he is at and he is really striving there. He's made a cool bunch of mates and gaining a lot more independence. He's even legal to babysit now! Yuss!

 Meisha has also done wonderfully - she is Year 8 next year, so last year at intermediate before she too will be off to high school. Insane. She has made some really great personal choices this year, which I'm ridiculously proud of her for. She knows her worth, and how she deserves to be respected and treated. It is heart warming to see her take bold steps towards ensuring she receives that treatment from others.

 I have finished my course and while I struggled with the second quarter time wise, I'm proud to say I brought in all A's for every subject. It was a great challenge for me, and that along with starting work has reminded me I am not just a mother and wife. I am my own person, and I am slowly getting to know that person again. It has been quite freeing to be honest, and I am excited to see what next year brings.
And so we are here on Christmas Eve. I have dropped the ball this last few months a fair bit in different areas, but I've been trying my damn best and will continue to do so. I'm off soon to finish my shopping and get everything in order. I am looking forward to spending Christmas Day with my family and Eddie's family. I can't wait to see the kids faces in the morning. It will be our first Christmas without Andrew. It may be our last Christmas with others. And so I will take all the photos, I will record all the videos. And I will continue to remember what Christmas magic is all about - the people and the love.
Merry Christmas everyone. Enjoy the moments x

Its 4.50am and I'm awake. Stupid anxiety is giving me insomnia. Funny how it creeps up on you huh?

 I dont recall a dream, but I woke up thinking of Andrew which set the tears off straight away and now I'm sitting here having a cry at almost 5am.

 For those who dont know, Andrew was my brother in law - Eddie's younger brother. He passed away very suddenly on August 3rd. We were supposed to have a birthday lunch on the Sunday but him and his partner mucked up the day and arrived at my in laws on the Saturday instead. They left that afternoon and he died not long after arriving home.

 He was a fucking top guy. First time I met him was not long after Ed and I started seeing each other. Eddie and his flatmates were having a party and as I arrived, there was this dude walking in in bright purple dress pants. We hit it off quickly and that first night we met, he opened up to me about his very difficult past. We never saw him as much as we should have and ultimately wanted to, but when we did he was always a barrel of laughs. He was a man of little words at times and would just give you a look sending you to fits of laughter coz he could nail a sentence in one look.

 My kids adored their Uncle Andrew. Despite not having kids of his own, he would always arrive at Christmas with gifts for the kids and a good Dad joke or two.

 He was set to marry his (amazing) partner Liana in October in a beautiful little chapel in Minniesdale. Instead, we held part of his funeral there. He is buried in the cemetery behind the chapel overlooking the harbour.

 There is so much more I could say about him, and about the difficult time since his passing, but since it includes lots of other people, it's not my place to publicize so widely. But I will never ever forget him and his cheeky smirk. The way he welcomed me into the family straight away. And the gift he gave me with his passing in friendship/sisterhood with Liana (love you, lady!) X

 ***

 My anxiety is pretty well controlled these days, and for the most part I don't have to face it much. I've overcome a lot of new hurdles for myself this year and I'm actually really proud of myself. Anyone that knows me closely knows that new situations scare the shit out of me. So I've surprised even myself with some of the stuff I've done this latter part of the year! 

With the kids all at school, being a stay at home mum wasnt exactly an actual thing for me anymore. So I wanted to do some things for ME, after almost 14 years of raising my children.

 In July, I decided to do my Level 4 Certificate in Business Administration with Accounting Strands. I was so nervous that I would have no clue what I was doing and that any intelligent brain cells had been obliterated by years of changing nappies.

Turns out, I still got it lol. I got A+ marks for the first quarter and even got 100% on a couple if my assignments. This second quarter wasn't quite as rewarding in that sense because I was time poor, but I still managed passes with an A and B+.

 In September I started a new job. I was offered a position at the YMCA and accepted, and then came up with every excuse under the sun as to why I shouldn't start - the main one being that I was offered a volunteer position at the same time writing people's life stories for Hospice. But I decided instead to go with the paid position and I'm so glad I did.

 I have met some AMAZING people. Some new friends who arent just work colleagues, but awesome people who I value being around. Theres always a good laugh going, and they truly brighten my day. Sup team! Haha.

 So I'm now a working, studying mum. My girls go to after school care or my absolutely amazing family help out. Jax is a back door key kid now and at almost 14 he loves it. My house is constantly a pig sty and I dont even care! For the first time in forever, cleaning is not my priority lol. Eddie and I are totally winging this both working thing and aside from not seeing each other some days, I think we are doing well. Maybe not quite smashing it, but we're getting there haha.

 So amongst all of this mentalness, Olives annual dermatology appointment has rolled around. It's this morning and I am a little nervous. She's gotten a couple of accidental slight sunburns if I'm being honest, and when these appointments roll up i find myself getting quite anxious. Theres never been any suspicious spots in the past, so I shouldn't worry really but then my stupid brain tells me that the good run has gone long enough now and something is bound to pop up. So I'm fighting that inner turmoil of 'she will be fine/this is the one where something will be wrong'. My logical mind knows not to worry unless theres something to worry about but the anticipation tells my anxiety to get worked up. So basically I'll just keep fighting myself till after the appointment.

 She's nervous too. She is getting more self conscious about her wee bod so the idea of getting naked for a doctor she cant remember because she only sees her once a year makes her a bit anxious too. And understandably too! Nobody likes getting nakey for the doctor. But off we will go, fingers crossed nothing sinister pops up. Wish us luck xo

Up until now I havent really written much about Dad's dementia. Its certainly not for lack of content - I could write for days about my sweet Dad and his antics!
He's always been a character, like the time he sat down after work to settle in with a beer and watch some tele. He'd had this low coffee table which we used to sit around on the floor. So he was sitting on the floor and took his work boots off, placing them beside the table. Beer and glass at the ready in front of him, he cracked open the beer. Watching the TV as he slowly poured his beer, he emptied it into his glass and then announced, "shit! I've just poured my beer into my boot!" He had completely missed the glass and overpoured it into his boot, then having to empty his boot of beer and clean it out. I honestly dont think I've ever laughed so hard. That was the beginning of him realizing he needed glasses I think!

Or another time when he told us a story of how he was walking through the domain after a work conference. Walking along, minding his own business when all of a sudden a seagull flew out of nowhere. It flew smack into his chest, then hit the ground squawking and flapping around. He stood there, staring at this ridiculous bird, trying to make sense of what just happened. Looking up, he saw a groundskeeper staring at him, shaking his head, as if to say, "you don't do that to seagulls." 

No, its definitely not for lack of content. Dad has some hilarious stories to tell. Or at least, he had. Things are different now. Me not writing about him is more because of my loyalty and respect for him. Dad used to read my blog religiously. He would check the blog all the time and text every so often asking if I had posted lately, in case he'd missed a new post. He was one of our biggest supporters with our kids, especially Olive, and he liked to know every little thing they were up to. I didnt want him to read what I had to say about his illness. Because dementia is fucking awful. Its cruel and heartbreaking.

And the worst moments with Dad are not when he stumbles with his words, or has another fall, or any other daily struggle. It's when he is aware that his mind is failing. When he knows he is unwell and theres not a damn thing he can do about it.

 It's just over a year from his diagnosis, and Dad probably wouldn't know how to get to my blog now. Or it wouldn't even occur to him to try. And while my loyalty and respect for him are still at the highest level, I need to write about it, to try and process it somehow. Because this is so goddamn hard.

 My Dad is 64. He hasn't even made it to the age of retirement yet. In hindsight, the dementia had been starting a few years prior, but we got the official diagnosis last year. Just over a year ago.
Early last year, Dad was living in his apartment. He was working. He was driving. He was visiting. He was playing music. He could write. He could talk. He could cook. He could pay bills. He could play with the kids. He could do crosswords. He could laugh.

 Just over a year later and the only thing my Dad can do at the same level as then, is laugh. And laugh he does! He is so jovial. All the 'help' who meet him adore him. They all want to wrap him up and take him home! Coz he's just like a kid.

 Whenever anyone hears the term dementia, they automatically think of alzheimers. Dad doesbt have alzheimers. He has another form of dementia called frontotemporal dementia. It begins as one of two variants - behavioural or language, because those are the two areas the frontotemporal lobe is responsible for. Dad has the behavioural variant. Eventually they merge together. This affects his behaviour and his speech. So for instance, he remembers everyone's name. He knows who we all are and probably who half the people reading this are! But the pathways of how to do things or just occurring to him to do them have diminished. And they continue to day by day.

 Until recently, us kids have been caring for Dad and his affairs. But we had a recent reassessment (we last had one done when he was living with me last year) with the Needs Assessment Team. It's been quite confronting to say the least. We have a lot more outside help coming in now - to help him prepare food, clean etc. We've been watching and monitoring Dad's decline, and have all known he HAS declined but its not until you compare with a year ago that you realise just how quickly it has happened.

 He had to stop working and driving straight away. Slowly, the other things have been taken away from him. Not by us, by this cruel disease. It's taken his ability to play music, to cook, to be artistic, to look after his house and himself. And its diminished his ability to walk and talk. All of these things worsen week by week, day by day. This last assessment told us he already qualifies for a care home.

 Dads independence is no longer really. He needs assistance with most things, and we are lucky to not only have carers who come in twice a day, but my absolutely amazing sister who lives upstairs from Dad and is there day to day helping him, and organising his life. From my experience when Dad was with us last year, this is a bloody tough job. Dad being Dad makes it easy. He does what we tell him, he isnt aggressive or disagreeable. But emotionally, it is taxing. Watching the strong parent who once was, deteriorate before your eyes is so confronting. And having Dad there every day and night means my sister doesn't get a break from that. We try, of course, to do what we can where we can, but that doesnt stop the fact that this is huge for her. For us. For Dad.

 Mostly, I just go with the flow with Dad and what needs to be done. The roles have reversed and we take care of him now. But when I allow myself to think just that smidge deeper, my heart aches to have my Dad back. To have one more normal conversation with him, one more normal hug, one more normal visit, one more normal phonecall. Just one more normal. But those are gone now. So I try not to think too deep. Because it literally cracks my heart when I do.

 Those who know my Dad and love him, please go and visit him. I know it's hard. Believe me, we all find it hard! But so does he. So if you can rustle up the time and energy to do it, please visit. It wont be long before he changes even more x

Last night at bedtime, I said goodnight to my 6 year old for the last time. She was too excited to sleep - she would be 7 in the morning!

 Now, its 6.28am and theres wrapping paper strewn across my bedroom and a squealing 7 year old opening the boxes of her new toys.

 I say it every year but I'm really struggling to wrap my head around her age this year! I actually cant quite believe she has been here for 7 years. Olive is my baby, she always will be. But babies aren't 7 years old!?

 On the one hand, she's still very much our baby. I still lie with her every single night until she falls asleep, and every single night she comes into our bed at around midnight. She doesn't like being alone and likes to have company around her, even if they aren't talking.
 She is scared of the dark and every night you hear her feet quickly running down the hall to our room. She doesnt much like staying away from home, and likes the comfort of Mum and Dad.
 She still hasn't mastered the art of tidying up and at any given time in our house you will be sure to find an Olive sized mess (generally Barbies, LOL dolls, or Our Generation dolls and all the accessories they all entail) or a trail of cut up shit - paper, sellotape, string, doll hair. Basically, with Olive, if scissors can cut through it, cutting will be done. And if scissors are not suffice, a knife will do (as we found out with the recent boxes she annihilated and then stored pieces of in her wardrobe for over a week).

 And on the other hand, she is quite the grown up little lady. I'm no longer allowed to walk her into school or go into school to collect her - she must be dropped off and picked up at the front gate.
She showers herself and even attempts to wash her own hair (a difficult feat, she was blessed with thick Robertson hair!), she makes herself snacks, and prepares her own breakfast, she has chores and she is a little speed demon on her bike.
She has a lovely caring streak and is always there to console an upset friend, or help and play with her 21 month old cousin.

 She is selective about when she wants to be independent and most of the time she has it a bit muddled up - like completing her own urine test for the doctor while I wasnt home and Eddie didnt know she was doing it; or trying to cut up snacks with sharp knives - yet she refuses to get her shoes from the garage on her own or tie her own shoes, despite knowing how.

 Olive is thriving at school, and has made a bunch of good friends who she hangs with every single day. She sees the good in people, and she recognizes when someone is being treated poorly and is working on standing up for them.

 My girl is at the in-between stage now - halfway between a Little Girl and a Big Girl. Shes my darling, hilarious, beautiful, amazing 7 year old.

 Happy birthday sweet angel, Oli Boli! We love you so much xxx

When Olive first started school, I read a book written by a fellow nevus mum to her class and talked to the kids about Olive's nevus. When she started year 2 at her new school, she decided she didnt want me to do that and she would tell people as she felt neccessary.

 So that's what she did. She showed a few friends and kids in her class but it started to take a backseat and wasnt the focal point of Olive as a person (just how we want it to be!).
Now that she is almost 7, discussions about Olive's nevus aren't as prevalent in our every day conversation anymore. The need just isn't there - we have no health concerns, and she accepts it wholeheartedly and is proud of her skin. Unless we're meeting with her derm or she donks it, her nevus really doesn't come up much. It is just a part of her body to her and to us.

 So imagine my surprise when it did come into conversation the other day and what Olive told me. I cant remember how the conversation started but somehow her nevus was brought into it. The rest of the convo went something like this:

 Me: "Well not everyone in your new class knows about your nevus though aye honey?"

 Olive: "Yes they do mum. I told them about it."

 Me: "Oh did you? At lunch or something?"

 Olive: "No I stood up in front of the class and told everyone all about it. Then I showed them."

 I was taken aback by this as Olive can be quite shy sometimes, so I asked her how it came about.

 Olive: "Oh well P***** was telling the class about her diabetes and her port and Miss Q asked if I wanted to talk about my nevus so I did."

 Olive and her friend P***** are one of a handful of kids who's photos and care charts are on the board in the staff room. All the teachers know about them and in Olive's case, what to do should she injure her nevus or overheat because of it. Olive knows she's special because most people don't have CMN and knowing her picture is in the staff room makes her feel a little like royalty!

 But the kids aren't all aware. At least, they weren't. Until she took it upon her little 6 year old self to inform them. And holy moly I couldn't be prouder. The confidence in her in just a year at her new school is astounding. The staff there blow me away with their investment into each child's well being. I'm so happy we changed. May she continue to thrive and grow stronger each day into the confident, beautiful young lady she is fast becoming ❤