Blurry eyes, copious yawns and eureka revelations!

There are many facets to being a nursing mother. The extra snuggles and devotion are indeed fruitful and continue to promote the emotional positives. Research continues to tap you firmly on the shoulder, and mummy pride aids in the darkest moments. However, scrap all of that for a moment, as I truly believe that another angle to consider lies between the times of 3am and 5am. This is what I refer to as the ‘lost hours’, the ones which disappear in the midst of nipple soreness, baby balancing, and the multitasking form of controlling a vicious and rampant milk letdown. All this whilst the hubby remains sleeping also! I often ponder how he would react if I aimed my dairy firearm in his direction! Anyhow, back to the night time juggling, and the sense of satisfaction you feel with a successful latch and a settled baby. It is at this point when the lost hours become something else. These hours provide the base for reflection and deep thought. I could stare dismally at the wall and become majorly irritated by the odd flake of paint hanging off, but instead I use my time wisely. I plan, I seek, I analyse, and I ponder deeply. In those lost hours, I find solace. I find meaningful thought content. I then fall asleep satisfied, as does baby.

I awake in the morning and usually  can not remember much of those eureka moments, yet I continue to bathe in the knowledge and wishful thinking that 3am serves me fairly. One day I am sure my ideas will flourish me.

We all need a silver lining … Especially in the night! 

Soap box, labelling, and opinionated defiance

I am going to stand on my soap box and preach.

I feel the need to vent, and you, my blogging peers, get the honour of hearing my complaints :p

I hate the word ‘diagnosis’. It is simply a definition of ‘label’. Furthermore it excuses mannerism and basic human compassion. It breeds patronising behaviour, and honours rigid thinking.

I work with people who are diagnosed, and people who are presumed diagnosed. These people are simply people WITH an added condition. They are NOT a condition. Nor should they be known by it.

Autistic

Manic depressive

Schizophrenic

Seriously? These individuals have the diagnosis. They are not the illness.

I also hate the way that a diagnosis appears to infringe on basic etiquette and human decency. The label seems to encourage people to disregard rudeness and minimise their individual opinions.

I observe people talking over individuals, talking about them as if they were not in the vicinity, and demoralising them. The ignorance is amazing.

So I will quietly stand down from my soap box now, but I will remain aghast that our knowledgeable and developing society is so prehistoric that prejudice and discrimination continues to breed. Personally I think it says more about the people than the ones diagnosed.

Maybe they need a diagnosis of ignorance and uneducated stance, or a lesson in respect, dignity, and humanity.

Just saying 🙂

The mind of a deep thinker…or complete rubbish…it is all down to interpretation and perception…