- Travelled to far away, exotic places, unless you count Dubbo. And I certainly don't.
- Had a thriving, successful career, or even any sort of average job that I've been remotely good at.
- Made a five year plan. Or even a five minute one.
- Known what I wanted to do when I grow up. Still don't.
- Made friends easily and consequently had millions of the things coming out of my arse. Or, you know, I've just never had millions of friends. Forget about the arse thing.
- Been adventurous. I've never wanted to do anything heart racing such as bridge climbs, white water rafting or bungee jumping. I'm a two feet planted firmly on the ground kind of girl.
- Been the owner of one of those sleek and blindingly white homes seen in magazines and on the telly.
- Been stylish, elegant and effortlessly chic. Instead I've always be the one wearing too much eye make-up and a dodgy, at home dye job teamed with bargain, sales rack clothes from not very classy stores.
- Been one of those competitive 'Tiger' Mums, bragging about my kids and how brilliant they are to anyone and everyone.
- Been competitive, period. I can't win the race, because I'm never in it.
|I will never have a home that looks like THIS.|
I've stumbled through life, feeling like an alien. Along the way I managed to have the odd job, (even if I thought I was never very good at any of them), make a few friends, get married and pop out a few sprogs. Nothing remarkable. Nothing remarkable at all. Seemingly.
Also, before all of that I managed to survive through several years of infertility. The fact that I ended up conceiving at all was all because of the shit I did to help myself. Actually exercising like a demon and being *gasp*, healthy. Then, after we had our first two boys, Micky Blue Eyes was diagnosed with bowel cancer. Surprisingly, that wasn't very much fun. Okay, not surprisingly, but we got through it. Just when we had picked ourselves back up of the floor from that little shock, we had another shock. I was up the duff again. But this pregnancy ended in tragedy, when I lost the little man at 19 weeks, and, to make matters worse, still had to go through birthing him. That was actually the WORST thing I've ever done. I'm supposed to be telling you the BEST thing. I'm getting to that. I think. I hope. Maybe. Whatever. You've probably stopped reading by now, anyway. Sigh.
I think the point I am trying to make is that sometimes the best thing you can do, the biggest achievement, is to survive all the worst things. Does that even make sense?
I've survived all of the above and am still relatively sane (okay, it's debatable), as well as bumbling along through life without the diagnosis of Asperger's until I was 40. Did I mention that? That was a fairly big deal for me and a gigantic yawn for everyone else. Which is what this post is turning into. Sorry!
Plus, the fact that I've survived all of this and went on to become a Professional Bogan, boring everyone with this bogan themed blog is quite a stunning achievement in itself. Whether it's stunning in a good way or bad way- well, draw your own conclusions. I think you know what mine is. I'm a very proud bogan blogger. So ner.
Now I am also facing one of my biggest challenges yet. Potentially giving up cakies. I know. Heartbreaking. If I survive this, it could possibly be my biggest achievement to date. I am having a Glucose Tolerance Test on Monday. I get to carb load for the next few days before finding out if my cakie addiction has caught up with me. This should be interesting. Or boring as batshit, really. Stay tuned. Or tune out. Or whatever.
Linking up with The Lounge. which is being hosted by Tegan from Musings Of The Misguided.
What is the best thing you've ever done? It may not be what you think...