How old is she?

I often think I must be forgetting how old my daughter really is, I'm almost certain that she is one but her ridiculous, psychotic tantrums tell me otherwise. I realised ever since she's been having visits with her dad, she's turned into an evil alien child that I was  not  aware I had. Say goodbye to my little happy, full-of-beans and lots of giggles baby and hello to little miss stroppy; heavy on the attitude. I really wish she would redirect her strength for hitting, kicking and screaming to sleeping. Oh the world would be a better place. 

Instead, she's adopted a new habit that happens between 11pm and 4am every night, where she has a complete and total lack of respect for my ear drums and screams our room down. Oh how I long for the day we have separate rooms. It was about 1:30am this morning when I thought to myself "What is love?" Love is getting woken up by a scream that sounds like your child is being tortured when really she just wants to get up and play. Love is bopping up and down, patting butts, mumbling melodies at 2am in the morning to a kid who refuses to sleep. Love is putting your said child in bed with you to try and comfort her back to sleep only so you can be kicked in the ribs, stomach, face, punched, kissed, and climbed on as if you're a freaking jungle gym only to have to get out of bed for the 500th that night because with in 5 seconds she's managed to do all of the above, jump out of the bed and run over and start banging her head against the door... All this and she is still screaming. Who would have thought a little asthmatic would have the lung capacity to scream for over an hour straight? Not me! Love is not having slept more than 2 hours straight in almost 5 months. Yep, okay great! I am capable of loving. 

I'm always thinking, if she didn't go to daycare, if she didn't have to see her dad then maybe the precious little well behaved cute giggly daughter I once had would still be here, at least until she turned 2. Then the tantrums would be okay. 

I've found myself thinking lately about the other girls who had babies the same time as me and they are due for their second baby any time now and all I can think is that they must be on drugs, or they have perfectly well behaved kids. The last thing I would want is to be pregnant while my little miss is going through such a trying season. The good thing is, all seasons come to an end. 

And so did our night last night, it may have ended at 3:45am but atlas she fell asleep.

Dear God,

Thank you for loving me at my darkest. 

Thank you for blessing me with a daughter. 

Thank you for my parents. 

Thank you for my brothers andsisters. 

Thank you for protecting me. 

Thank you for providing me with everything I need.

Thank you for forgiving me.

And forgiving me some more. 

Thank you for saving me. 

Today I am thanking Him for everything I have and everything I am. Why? Because I am stuck today, being reminded of everything I've done and everything I was. Today, I am struggling. Today, I am holding on by the thinnest of strings, hoping that He won't forsake me. 

The best part? I know he won't forsake,

I know he is carrying me through this day.

The alcohol that once carried me. The drugs that once carried me. The immoral activities that once carried me through the day. Those temptations. I am tempted but I am not worried. I am thirsty for them, I'm not concerned. I know that my God has this. I don't, he does. He has the strength I need.

Every day I am being saved.

Every day I am being forgiven. 

Every day. I need a  s a v i o u r .

I loved you at your darkest. 

ROMANS 5:8

Zarbo Brownies

CHOCOLATE BROWNIES

I have to say, this is my favourite EVER recipe. You cannot go wrong with these New Zealand Zarbo brownies!!! They are perfect for ALL occasions. 

THE RECIPE

300 grams butter

300 grams dark chocolate

11/2 cups of Plain flour

1/2 cup of Cocoa

2 cups of sugar

6 eggs

2 teaspoons of vanilla essence

Sift flour and cocoa in a bowl. Set aside.

Put a heat proof bowl on top of saucepan with simmering waters. Do not let the bowl actually touch the water. Melt the butter and chocolate in the bowl, stirring constantly until melted and silky. Remove from saucepan and let cool until warm. 

In a separate bowl whisk together the eggs and sugar until thick but not too thick. Add in the vanilla and the chocolate mixture. Whisk until well combined and then pour into bowl with the flour. Fold the mixture together until well combined. 

Grease brownie pan and put in oven for 23 minutes or until cooked. I love when the brownies are a bit gooey. Tasty. 

Learn a little, sew a little.

The art of sewing.

I decided to take action and teach myself the skill of sewing. Although I know nothing about it, I went out, I bought myself a machine, a sewing basket, material, needles, the whole lot! I set it up and then I froze. Legit froze. I knew the basics from school, so that pretty much meant I knew how to turn the machine on.  What to do next? GOOGLE. That's right, I googled my way through tutorials, the do's and don'ts of sewing. After many online tutorials and playing around with my machine. I eventually began learning the fine art of sewing, if it can even be called a fine art. 

Well, a few days after fiddling with my machine. I decided I would go to spotlight and buy a pattern to make my little girl a dress. So off I went and then I bought a dress pattern. Now who knew buy the machine was in fact the CHEAPEST and EASIEST part of sewing? Not me. 

After about 2 weeks of sewing a bit here and there, I finally finished L's dress. Well, it was about THREE sizes too big and it's definitely not the most perfect garment I've seen but a dress none the less.

So there it is, my first sewing project complete. I think I did pretty good for a first timer however I LEARNT so much about sewing, I learnt that while you can in fact get taught it, even when you google or have someone sit down and tell you what to do, you are still going to make mistakes and you are still going to learn better/easier/quicker ways to do it. It's a process but I'll be perfecting it.