Credit

My 3 month old starting sleeping through the night from when she was 6 weeks old.

Did you just think, "How lucky of you to have such a good baby" ? That's the response I always get. And it annoys me. Yes, this baby actually is really good. She has a calm and chilled-out nature. She's alert and very responsive to human interaction. But that's not why she sleeps so well.

She has been put on a strict routine of sleeping, feeding and wake times since she was 1 week old. This has involved waking her up at times when I just wanted to let her sleep, and putting her down while awake (she, not I) to settle herself to sleep (translation: cry). The long term (ie lifelong) goal is to stabilise her hunger and sleeping habits. The short term effect is that she sleeps through the night from what seems to many to be an impossibly early age.

So while I agree that this wee bundle of joy is indeed a good baby, please note that the more important factor is that she and I have worked very hard for this result. Three kids on, it's still heart wrenching to listen to your baby learn to settle themselves to sleep. It was more than "luck", and more than having a "good baby". Give me some credit man!

Rant over.

PS. I'm always happy to give tips on implementing routines to those who ask :)

The secret

What is the secret to a successful marriage? This is the type of question that one gets asked upon reaching a marriage milestone. As we approach our ten year wedding anniversary I have found that, like the dragon scroll and the noodle soup in Kung Fu Panda, there is no secret ingredient. *Gasp*

I have often read in blogs, articles (and other things that people with time write on the internet) that marriage is not work, because loving someone means the time and effort you put in to your relationship doesn't count as "work". Let me just say that from my own personal experience - what a load of horse shit hogwash!

Living with a person, sharing a home, children, extended families, dreams and fears - this opens up a world of vulnerabilities, and an infinite number of opportunities to hurt and be hurt by this person, on a level that is unimaginable. Your Venn diagram intersects for the really important issues/values, but there's so much of your individual circles that are still separate (refer diagram below for geeky mathematics illustration).

Their circle, your circle, and the intersection

After 5 years of marriage I thought we had made it over the hump and it would be smooth sailing the rest of the way. As it turns out, life isn't quite done with us yet. There have been many more highs, lows and kids. I would be lying if I said that maintaining a stable marriage in the midst of the craziness of life isn't work. But through this work, our relationship has matured and deepened. It's different. It's better.

This rambling post is not to discourage from marriage. I am happier today in my marriage than I ever have been. But along the way I have also been the unhappiest I have ever been too. I am now more understanding of those who have made the decision to end a marriage. I am now more understanding of those who have persevered to save a marriage.

So what's the secret to a successful marriage? When you see someone who has gone through a drastic weight loss, you want to know the secret to their success. The shortcut. But the answer is already widely known, it's the same and only answer that has truly worked - diet and exercise. I have found the same to be true here. There is no secret ingredient. Communication, compromise, forgiveness, acceptance, love. That's all. Now good luck ;)

Recessive gene drama

That awkward moment when your own first cousin asks if your kid's dad is Chinese, even though you're married to a pureblood Samoan. OMG.

Then your own daughter declares, "I am from Samoa, and Anty is from China!" LOL.

I don't know what the big deal is. He's obviously a Samoan. See for yourself.

Old couples day out

Today the old guy and I took the day off from work to spend quality time together while the kids are at school. (Yes, young ones, it does get this tragic later on in life)

You know you're old buggers though, when you both sing along (loudly) to Bloodhound Gang in the car, not missing a lyric. And you doubly confirm your old age by understanding the "you'll Lovett just like Lyle" reference.

We went to Rebel Sports (his choice) then to Whitcoulls (my choice). And this is all before 10am! I mean, the party don't stop!!

After a few hours together though, we naturally just drifted back into our respective comfort zones. So I'm here on my laptop, doing some work. And he's off to the gym. Ain't nobody got tiiime for too much romantic interaction. After this wee break we'll be refreshed and ready for lunch together.

And dass how we do here in the old folks home.

Birthday musings

Today the shadow girl turns 6. That's right. Amazingly enough, we have managed to keep a little human being alive for 6 years!

So what exciting and elaborate plans do we have in store for the day, you ask?

Well, we told the birthday girl she gets to decide what she wants for her Special Birthday Breakfast, as well as her Special Birthday Dinner. Ooooh lucky! That's one of the comments I received when I shared the birthday plans with others.

Ummm, excuse me? She is actually a very privileged little girl. She has "things" that we could only dream of having when growing up as poor little mongrels. She has a warm house, warm clothing, is never hungry (OK, that one may not be true), has the care and attention of a mother and a father, cable TV. She will have a proper birthday party on Saturday even (and I'm not talking about the traditional island style ones where the guests are the parents' and grandparents' buddies, and the menu is BBQ and beer. Nom!). What I'm trying to say is ... she's got shit!

So pardon me for not rolling out yet another red carpet today, and hail her royal highness by throwing wads of cash everywhere. My kid has been taught to be appreciative and grateful, of whatever little or much she receives. If she hasn't earned it herself, then it's extra to the nothing that she would have had otherwise.

She actually was super excited about her special breakfast of pancakes and loved her glittery birthday card. It's the little things that matter. Stop being shallow, bloody generation of entitlement.

(And the musings have officially turned into a rant. LOL!)

On that note, Happy Birthday my little super shadow girl. You carry on being cheap awesome.

Ain't nobody got time (School Edition)

My shadow girl has been going to school for a year now. And in that year, I have found out that I am a pretty useless parent as far as "supporting the school" goes.

Before
I dropped the kid off at daycare at 8am sharp, and picked her up at 5:30pm (just). They cooked for her, fed her, changed her, clothed her, educated her and entertained her. I just provided a home for sleeping at night.

Now
I have to make morning tea and lunch for the kid to take. I have to arrange and pay for before-school care and after-school care. I get emails every week from the PTA asking if I want to help with the school disco, the school fair, organising school lunch fundraising or running cake stalls.

No? Then perhaps monitoring the school crossing will tickle your fancy. Or maybe you might like to try your hand at volunteering time to run a lesson for your child's weekly Inquiry day, where you could teach about your culture, your job, or anything else outside the regular curriculum.

Ok, maybe none of those suit. But surely your friends and family will want to purchase an Entertainment Book to support the school? Ok not this week, how about next week? The week after?

ARGH!!! Make. It. Stop.

The first few times I was like, damn, I'm not free, maybe next time. But the truth is, there is no next time. There is just no time. I struggle to stay alive as it is, and ensure my little humans stay alive too. Never mind the damn goldfish (who is only alive by the good grace of God). And the career (hanging on by a thread). Then there's homework, and those "things you can do at home to help your child's education" (like WTF?). So the school committee stuff? Well, it's on the priority list, but kind of squished at the end. (Like when you went to a birthday party when you were young, and only your rich friend brought a present and card, so the rest of your gang added your names at the end of the card and eventually it ran out of space so the last few names were really tiny and kind of running downwards)

So for the good mums and dads at the school who actually contribute to the school with their time and expertise, on behalf of the disorganised, lazy, dazed and confused parents, I say a heartfelt thanks. My kid benefits greatly from the quality of education and care that the school provides as a result of your input.

As for me, I'm gonna continue with my plan of upping my "school donation" to make up for my non-participation. Problem solved.

Accidents

The mother-in-law is visiting from Samoa. While she was playing with La and her train set yesterday, I overheard things I don't usually hear around young kids' playtime ...

La: "Choo-choo! Let's race the trains around the track."
[train derails]
La: "Oh no! We've got an accident. Ambulance!!"
MIL: "Oh no, there is only one person alive. Everyone else is dead!" [cracks up laughing]
La: "AMBULANCE! Help!"
MIL: "They're all dead!"


I'm pretty sure I heard wrong.


La: "Let's start the race again."
[train derails]
La: "Oh no! Another accident. Ambulance! Doctor!"
MIL: "There is no doctor available. The doctors are all drunk."


Oh, ok. Maybe I didn't hear wrong.

Thankfully we didn't have any little friends over for a playdate. Imagine the gems they would have taken home with them. Lol.

'Ello poppet

I am back from the depths of childbirth! (Yay)

What a bloody hard last couple of months.

Had a baby, had my whole fam descend on our place for the Christmas week, then immediately after had the folks-in-law staying (still to depart).

I have forgotten what a good sleep feels like. Or what having a relatively okay body feels like.

So I've signed myself onto myfitnesspal and started religiously tracking my eating in the (futile) attempt to regain some sort of acceptable body shape and functionality. Which means I'm hungry a lot. Lol.

Actually, the truth is, as easy as it would be for me to starve for weight loss, breastfeeding demands proper nutrition. The baby dictates everything. How I eat, when I sleep, when to pull my boobs out, when I can interact with other humans. I can't even deal.

So in summary, I'm now a hungry fat milk zombie with no income (i.e. no sense of control ... lol), living life one 3 1/2 hour feeding interval at a time. Goooood luck.

A hippo's guide to surviving earthquakes

If you have been watching the news like a good citizen should (and if you live in a country where they give a winkling about the tectonic plates in New Zealand) then you may know that there have been some rather significant earthquakes around the Wellington region for the past couple of weeks now.

It has been unnerving each time the tremors hit, trying to locate the little shadow and then proceeding to dive under the unfortunately too-small kitchen table.

What we also came to realise (many, many natural disasters later) is that we have no emergency plan of action, no emergency survival kit, no real reason that we should survive if or when the mother of natural disasters (or the dreaded zombie apocalypse for that matter) hits.

So I've done some thinking, as you do, and have come up with some tips that may help other alien-carriers out there having to put up with frequent quakes:

1. Pee quickly. Unfortunately, the little alien inside you won't stop kicking your bladder or producing all that waste, so when you gotta go, you gotta go. But no more taking the iPad or Property Press in with you. Just do the deed, and get out. Coz if the house collapses around your little ceramic throne, well, gooood luck!
2. Prepare an emergency kit. Fill it with all your favourite non-perishable cravings / snack foods. Then guard it with your life, especially if there are little hands (or big ones too) that keep trying to sneak in to that particular section of the emergency kit. Have none of it!
3. Keep your smartphone charged at all times! This one is important. If food and / or water supplies run out, at least you will be able to Scramble or Candy Crush.
4. Get fit. If you reach full term and there are no major natural disasters where you need to evacuate and hike around the hills of Wellington, you will still have a fully grown alien to push out, and any physical strength will come in handy for pointing (the blame), gripping (to death) your supporters' hands, and then after the birth give yourself a mini-makeover for the all important first photo with baby.

There you have it. Extremely helpful tips that I'm sure you could not do without.

PS. Don't forget to pack your happy pills in the emergency kit!

Aegon

This week I have some fantastic news to share.

I had my halfway point ultrasound, and found out:

1. The alien seemed all anatomically there, i.e. the correct number of limbs, the expected shape, one head, etc
2. We are having a little prince. EEEEEKKKK!!!!

Though the first bullet point was pretty important, the second one is a headliner for sure. My family is a largely female dominated family (by number and by volume ... lol). So naturally, we are pretty darn excited by the knowledge that this little alien is going to be the first grandson ... on both his parents' sides of the family!

We shall name him Aegon. The prince that was promised. His is the song of ice and fire.

Ok, no, we're not really naming him that. I couldn't resist a geeky reference to the Song Of Ice And Fire books ;)

Could you imagine how Samoans would interpret and rearrange the name Aegon? Yea, exactly. I don't wish that on anyone. Let alone the Prince of Toamua himself. Lol.

Now to find out how on earth you change a baby boy's nappies. Eek.

The ending of 'When Water Burns'

No, I am NOT disclosing the ending. Or any other spoilers for that matter.

But OMG I loved that part when people didn't explain the ending and all the plot twists of When Water Burns on Lani's Facebook page.

Thankfully for me, I have finished reading the book. But before I did, I accidentally read someone's comment on Lani's FB author page about some of the main twists at the end. *sad face*

Come on folks. Don't spoil it for others. The books haven't even made it to Samoa yet!! I know it's hard to contain the excitement of the revelations of Book 2, but it would be nice to allow others the same opportunity to experience those first hand. And not via some Facebook comment or Twitter update.

I am, however, more than happy to discuss and OMG with you on Facebook mail, because When Water Burns rocked my socks! I loved it. For me, it was better than The Covenant Keeper. Believe it or not, Leila has grown on me (miracles do happen). Lani, how you did that I do not know.

Actually, I will say one thing about the ending. It gave me that feeling I had after reading each of the Harry Potter books. The need to do some baking, make cups of tea, and then sit down with my siblings and have discussions long into the night, about the plot, character development, all our different perspectives on what happened, and best of all, our predictions on what was to come in the next book! And I exaggerate not. So Laura and Donna, be prepared for when I see you next month. Have your PowerPoint presentations ready, and assign the tea making duties. We have serious Telesa business to attend to.

A Thousand Years

Last Tuesday morning, our family lost a child. Not lost as in we went to the mall and got separated and we couldn't find her. As horrifying as that would have been, the loss we experience is more permanent. Lorna-Lauren Faasili passed away at the age of 9 after a fatal asthma attack. She left behind her devoted mother, Tu'i, and beautiful twin sister, Hellena.

I remember getting the text from my sister. "Did you hear? :(". In my mind I guessed that someone had gained weight, or broken up with someone, or something had gotten lost/stolen. Things that at the time I thought were significant and warranted a sad face. Never did I guess what followed. "Lorna's passed away."

Life has since been a surreal experience. It's been a week now but it still feels like it was all a bad dream, and that soon we will wake up to normality, where we still referred to "Hellena and Lorna" as a pair. Where Tu'i had two girls to keep her up at night to scratch their itchy eczema.

What is now deemed "important" has changed so dramatically. I don't watch the news, and have stopped stalking people on Facebook. I feel like screaming, "How can you carry on? What does that matter?". How can such a tiny girl leave such a gaping hole? I don't know. But I am reminded, in a most poignant way, that life is precious and fleeting. We are not long here, our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it. Ironically, Lorna passed away due to asthma, yet in her short time here she sure did breathe. She lived her life completely.

So as we continue to mourn her, and as the wound of her departure continues to heal, I try to remind myself to use every minute I have to live and to love.

"I'll love you for a thousand years. Love you Lorn-baggz" - Hellena

Bothering to bother

I used to get so annoyed at people's dramas and issues, that at some point in my life I thought, "Bugger that, I can't be bothered anymore."

In recent times though, I have come to realise how wrong my attitude was.

Don't get me wrong, it still annoys the hell out of me when I think I can clearly read a situation, and someone who is in it can't. What has changed though is that I know that my view is only one view. At times, I still think that my conclusion is best based on all that I know, but I've also come to accept that (shocking as the revelation was) I don't know everything, do I?

These days I am glad that when people that are close to me have issues, it bothers me. Because it still means that I care. And although in a lot of cases I can't change the situation and I can't change how those people will respond to it, what I can definitely change is my response. Making sure that what is bothering me is the situation and not something within myself, and then making sure that if I do need reach out to help, that I do it with love.

Procrastinator's Christmas

This post was initially titled 'A Procrastinator's Guide to Christmas.' But in keeping true with the theme of procrastination, I put off writing it so long, that it has just become a rushed jumble of my experience as an example of what not to do.

In a previous post, I mentioned this Christmas is going to be the first that our little family get to spend by ourselves...just the 3 of us. I was so excited, I started making big plans. Lyla and I would bake gingerbread and tarts, we would decorate the house beautifully, and we would get a real pine Christmas tree.

Fast forward a couple of months, and the tree is yet to arrive. Ha! I said "arrive" like we'd already ordered it. When in actual fact, we have been putting it off, become lazy or distracted, and now it's a couple of weeks before Christmas and our living room is still tree-less. Right this moment, it's slightly more than tree-less, it's a bombsite. So while the little one is still napping, I shall whip the house into tree-ready shape. Then we will set up the tree, decorate it, and stare at it in awe. The end to justify the means.


Deck the lounge with clothes and rubbish.
The "before" state of the living room.

Money dictionary

Here is how I, a born-and-bred Samoan now living in New Zealand, understand some terms associated with money, based on my own personal experiences.

Giving
This usually occurs due to an event outside the immediate family that requires financial input, also known as a faalavelave. Examples are: funerals, weddings, grandparents' birthdays, unveilings, church openings, milestone birthdays. In this context, no gain or return is expected when the money is given.

Lending/loaning
Nearly the same as "giving" money to an individual family member, except there is usually some kind of agreement regarding repayment. More often than not though, the loanee's commitment to payment lasts as long as the loaned money in their hand. Something usually comes up that takes higher priority than your payment and you, being the loving understanding family member, are expected to take the forgiveness path, and hopefully before the next need of a loan.

Afford
This one is a bit of a toughie. I think I define this differently from other family members (and maybe Samoans in general).
1. If I can afford something, I have enough finances available or to spare after any existing financial obligations. In that context, I can't really afford much. I can afford to live comfortably, and by that I mean pay the bills and debts, fuel the car, and feed the family, but not much else after that.
2. There is another understanding (out there, somewhere) that being able to afford something is being able to raise the finances to do something. Based on that idea, I can afford to go to Samoa for Christmas, and spend a good amount on holiday feasts and generous gifts. I can stop by a Fiji resort on the way for a little RnR. Or maybe I can pay for the next funeral/wedding/birthday myself. Who knew it would be such a bad thing to be in the good books of credit companies?
The two do get confused though, and at times I wonder if I get mistaken for being a Scrooge, but for the record I am not sitting on pots of gold. If you must look at my income, then please also consider my outgoings. Why do I have only one pair of working pants that's taking a hammering? (So much so that Lyla looked at the seams and asked out loud in public "Mummy, what's wrong with your pants? I think it's breaking!") Because I can't afford to buy another.

Yes

It has been about a month since my last post. There was no particular reason for the fast...except laziness. That's a valid reason.

Anyway yesterday afternoon, I promised a dedicated blog fan (ha!) to post an entry within 24 hours. I am fast approaching that deadline, and am now where I work best...adrenaline-pumped at the 11th hour, and working (ok, blogging) at twice the speed I usually do. I did seriously contemplate not blogging. But last night at our life group study, one of the Bible verses we studied was about letting your "Yes" mean "Yes". Note to self: Don't say yes.

So taking it slow on my blog return, I'll do one up-one down. One good thing and one bad about the past 4 weeks.

One Up
Our little family - the man, the kid and I - have decided to spend our first Christmas at home by ourselves, instead of travelling to Auckland (to my family) or to Samoa (to the man's family). This was a bit of a down, because we will miss the gigantic extended family gatherings that we're accustomed to, along with a lot of noise, not enough space, and way too much food. Instead, we'll be decorating our home (first time!), planning our own Christmas meals and activities, and possibly starting our own family traditions. It's exciting times. I think what really nails this as an "up" is the massive financial saving. Lol! Time to get our own copy of the Boney M and Mariah Carey Christmas albums. Ooooh yea...

One Down
Two words - toilet training. How on earth do you toilet train a child? What is more confusing is how I don't know the answer to this, being the eldest of 7 children. Anyhow, the kid is now "of age" to be toilet trained, but she's not co-operating. I've asked friends how they did it and they shrug and say "Dunno, daycare trained them." Maybe I should get their daycare to call my kid's daycare, because they have a strange notion that I somehow have to be involved in the whole process. What? Isn't that what I pay you for? It seems not. Now I will have to read articles / books and parenting forums, for tips on toilet training...no, sorry, that PC term is toilet "learning" because it's about the child taking the lead and blah blah snore snore snore. Help.

Last Friday Night - the remix

Katy Perry has a song called "Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F)". When I first heard it, I was thinking "Very catchy beat and tune", then when I listened a little closer I discovered the lyrics are about going out, getting trashed, getting chased out of bars, random sex, etc. Ok, not my thing. My own fault for not seeing that coming, I mean it's a Katy Perry song about a Friday night.

It made me think though, I can no longer relate to that. My Friday night is the yang to KP's yin one. And I'm very happy about that, and thankful for my two buddies that I get to spend every Friday night with, the house we get to spend Friday night in, and the delicious food we usually pig out on every Friday night.

So here's the reeeemix, Rock Fobby style Friday night (sing it to the tune of KP's song):

Last Friday night
Yeah I washed all of the pots
But forgot to wash my socks
Stinky feet next day, that's hot

Last Friday night
Always rugby on TV
One-eyed for my Canterbury
Constant Facebooking and Tweet

Last Friday night
Lyla bossing us around
While snack shopping at Foodtown
Think I gained about 4 pounds

Last Friday night
Thought about doing some chores
Instead I chilled to Jersey Shore
Whoa-oh-oah

This Friday night
Do it all again
This Friday night
Do it all again

I heard a Who



Dr Seuss: "A person's a person, no matter how small"

You swept into our lives on a Monday morning, and graced a usually mundane day with your good news. We had been expecting you, and yet you were still a surprise.

I wanted to trumpet it from the Tweetops and splatter it over News Feeds. Such was my joy at the mere thought of your existence. Who to tell first? When to tell first? You were the sweetest secret.

But now you are no longer with us, and tiny as you were, you leave a big hole in my heart. You will never get to read this but I write it nonetheless, to celebrate you, and the shortest few days that we had with you.

For my unnamed Mini Me the Second, who left this world yesterday.

Old-Married-Couple-Dom

How do you know that the honeymoon period is well and truly over, and there is no return from the land of old married couples?

Here are three hints, fresh from personal experience tonight:

1. When on a Saturday night you, the hubby and kid get ready to go out. To do your grocery shopping at Pak'nSave.

2. As you are getting dressed (old married people tend to forget to get dressed while wandering out their old married home), your hubby looks at your much-loved trackpants and says "You know who you kind of look like? Sporty Spice."

Excuuuuuse me? First of all, honey, Mel Chisholm stopped calling herself "Sporty Spice" only...what, ten years ago? And secondly, Sporty Spice? Really? Not even Ginger? Or (gulp) Scary? No, I was Sporty Spice, the most unsexy of them all. To make it worse, I'm not even sporty, I just like trackpants because they're comfortable. Tragic!

3. While navigating the maze of aisles that is Pak'nSave, your husband looks at your trackpants in horror and asks what those white handprints are all over your butt, like mine did.

It's ok, I assured him. As I was testing the icing sugar pack for holes, it kind of exploded and I got sugar all over my hands. Then I had to crawl under the lowest shelf to get another one and the sugar marks were from me dusting myself off after.

He still looked confused...how could I be ok with walking around in public knowing there were white marks all over my pants, and specifically in the shape of handprints smack on my behind?

He summed it up quite well, the old hubby of mine: How times have changed.



Imagine this chick with a rugby jersey, brown skin and an extra 40kgs.
Apparently that's me.



Me version 1.1

Those who know me and my wee family know that our nearly-three-year-old daughter looks nothing like me. Well, to be more precise, she looks just like her father but she has her mother's eyes (yes, like Harry).

What I didn't give her in terms of physical attributes, I made up for in the personality area. She is a serious, introverted and slightly OCD-like little girl. At the age of 2, she pays a great deal of attention to detail, is a bit of a perfectionist and (as much as I hate to say this) legalistic.

As excited as I am to see myself in this kid, I also hope she doesn't "inherit" my flaws. So of course, like the paranoid creature I am, I have put a few steps in place to help her not have these "issues"

Reptile phobia
I'm sure there must be some kind of scientific name for this, but I hate reptiles, in particular the type that slither and are represented by Voldemort's second-to-last horcrux. Yes, those things-that-shall-not-be-named on this blog. *Shiver*
I let Lyla watch Diego, the Latino animal rescuer, Dora the Explorer's cousin. His show features a lot of these little buggers *ew ew ew*. So when Lyla is happily following Diego's instructions to slither like one-of-them, I try not to spew or faint or run away or turn off the TV. And when she's in the bath and decides to make one-of-those out of her wash cloths ... I don't panic and run from the bathroom screaming. I just die inside.

Fear of bodies of water
Yes, I did grow up on an island. In fact, I lived about 100 metres from the beach. And the drive to school and back every day was along the coast. But I don't like bodies of water, from about the size of a filled laundry basin (getting goosebumps).
So we give Lyla baths at night, and let her spend time alone in there. So far she loves it. She tells herself stories and plays with her bath toys and if I let her have a wash cloth she would sometimes even start scrubbing the bath (oops...not that it's grimey or anything).

Unsportiness
I suck so much at sports I can't even play the video game versions. So every time Lyla brings a ball to me and says she wants to play basketball or soccer or whatever the Bubble Guppies are playing, I happily join in. Never mind that I lack basic knowledge and basic skills, she could be the next best [insert sport with heaps of money to be made] player. I will not be the one who stood in her way.

Fear of heights
Ok, I know what you're thinking, I have a lot of issues and may need professional help. That's not the point, but thanks for your concern (email me any recommendations..ahem).
Lyla loves climbing. At her previous daycare, they identified this very early on, from when she just started learning to walk, and they really encouraged her to climb unaided (koikiki pe lo'u faku the first time I saw her on the jungle gym!). I myself prefer to stand on solid ground (i.e. am scared of heights). Taking her to the playground is such a struggle because it takes everything in me to not hold her completely while she's climbing these ridiculously high and tricky bars / ropes. When she's old enough I'll take her to one of those indoor rock climbing things. She'll love it. Me...not so much.

The list could go on forever, but pretty much the gist of it is that I would like to break the cycle with me. I want her to be like me, but be an even better version of me. With known bugs resolved and some flashy enhancements added - Me v1.1