Is Happiness Really The Best Revenge?

They say “Happiness is the best revenge”. But after a certain point, I wonder, does the pursuit of revenge make one truly happy?

I’m writing from the point of being divorced about 7 years ago. Then I remarried and had another couple of kids. When I got divorced, my depression spiraled to the depths of hell. The property settlement and child custody battle with my ex husband took a bashing on my mental health. Then I read somewhere that the best revenge was to be happy. To appear happy was the best I could come up with at the start.

After years of working on my own mental health, I learnt that showing my ex husband that I was happy, wasn’t actually making me happy at all. It felt like a competition in my own head that I had to make sure he knew how great my life was. I had to make sure I did everything I could to outdo his own happiness. And the competition was draining.

Of course, I wasn’t exactly pretending. My life – since I left him, really is great. I’m married to a man that is amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better man, husband, father and step father to our children. But somehow, I still kinda wanted my ex husband to know that I was doing fantastic – without him.

When you see children playing at the park with their best friends, you see pure happiness in their faces. They don’t try and pretend to be happy in order for their other friends to think they’re happy. They’re just happy.

That’s when I realized how silly I was.

Did my ex husband care about my current happiness? Probably, most likely – No. So why was I trying to prove something that didn’t need proving?

So over the last 4-5 years, I decided to just be happy. For me. I worked on myself. I still continually find ways to make my life better, to learn to be comfortable with who I am. To concentrate on my own happiness, which led to everything else pretty much falling into place.

Revenge became irrelevant to me. Revenge put a negative slant to my own pursuit of happiness. The need for revenge made my ex still part of my life. And so I decided that revenge, isn’t for me.

And dare I say… I’m even happy for my ex. I’m happy he has a family and new additions as well. 

So “Is happiness really the best revenge”? It may work at the beginning, when you’re still angry… And being angry… is not being happy. You don’t see truly happy people going out seeking revenge. But you can fake it til you make it.

Don’t forget to actually work towards your own happiness and inner peace. Once that is achieved, revenge is no longer relevant, nor will it be in the forefront of your mind.

Pursue happiness for YOU. 








Christmas for the Elderly

I’ve been taking my kids to the nursing home I work at every Christmas Eve for many years (even before the little ones were born). They hand out chocolates and lollies and wish them all personally a Merry Christmas. It teaches them that Christmas isn’t just about them, or presents or Santa. I’m grateful that my teenagers are still happy to come along to do this together with me.

The elderly absolutely love children, seeing them makes them happy and fills them with joy.

I hope if you have any relatives or friends in a nursing home, spare a thought and maybe if you can, to pop in there personally- give them a big hug, wish them a very Merry Christmas and tell them you love them


Image may contain: 4 people, people smiling, people standing and shoes

I Baked My Son’s Birthday Cake, And It Was Awesome

That, my friends, is a happy face. He didn’t see a single crack in his cake, he didn’t see any of the imperfections that I focused on and he didn’t see the stress I was in nor hear the swear words that came out of my mouth.

All he saw was an amazing Thomas the Tank cake that his mum made, and spent the day with all his friends playing and jumping on a big bouncy castle that we hired.

Yesterday was a very special day for him. He’s been invited to so many birthday parties this year, and could not understand why he couldn’t keep any of the presents and wasn’t allowed to blow out the candles.

We spent months going to Big W looking at Thomas the Tank toys and I had to tell him he had to wait for his birthday. And not once, did he ever throw a tantrum.

And so yesterday, he got to blow out his candles on his cake. He was over the moon. And when it was time to open presents, with EVERY single present, he asked me “Is this mine? Is this one for me?” (And there were a lot of presents lol)

I wanna thank all my friends who turned up yesterday, it was really special for all of us, especially for our little Luke. He woke up this morning still on a high (probably from all the sugar he had lol) ❤️

To all the parents who make their own cakes, or buy their cakes or buy a woolies cake with sprinkles on it, thank you for being you, for wanting your child to be happy on their special day.

This is my Facebook post prior to this blog!

My Other Father, Gone Too Soon

Me and my father-in-law on my wedding day


It’s 4am. I’ve had to force myself to wake up from my dream. I’ve woken up with my eyes and my pillow soaked in tears. So the only thing I can do now is put my feelings into words. I’m still laying in bed, with my phone in my hands and the glow on my face, blinding my already swollen eyes.

I dreamt that you had already passed and everyone around me were giving me gifts that reminded me of you. And every single gift I unwrapped made me miss you more and more. It made me fall to my knees and cry, my heart ached so much as I cried. It wasn’t only an emotional pain but also a physical pain in my chest. I so badly want to wake from this dream.

I dreamt of your voice, your deep fatherly voice. Your voice that made me laugh, your voice that always assured me that everything was going to be ok. In my dream I knew you were already gone but I can’t understand why I can still hear your voice.

In my dream I knew you were already gone but I still kept looking for signs of you. I searched and searched but couldn’t find any signs. I wanted to feel your strong arms around me when you told me you loved me and my children. Your grandchildren.

I force myself to wake up from this dream. 

I miss you, dear father in law. You were such a big part of my life and now there’s a void in my heart and it cannot be filled. Yes I do tons of things to occupy myself, but, that void will always be there.

Your wife, my husband, your daughter and your grandchildren struggle every single day knowing that you’re no longer physically here. All we have are incredible memories of you. We miss you so so much. So much that it’s crazy. We think about you every day.

I really hope we’ll cross paths again. Because I didn’t get enough time with you in this life.

All I have now are the memories of your strong yet soft personality, and I see it through your son, the love of my life. I can’t thank you enough for raising him to be the man that he is.

I must try and go back to sleep now. And I hope writing this down will make me feel better, but at the same time I don’t know if I want to.

Til we meet again.



Find me on Facebook, like and follow my page for more than just my blogs.

“Are you by any chance a Christian Woman?”

So I was asked at the checkout today by one of the cashiers I’ve built a very good rapport with “Are you by any chance, a Christian woman?” I had to ask her again to repeat her question. “I’m sorry?” “Are you a Christian woman?”, she repeats. I blinked a couple of times to think of my answer, and before I replied, she said, “Oh I ask because you seem to have the values of a good Christian woman.” 

I grew up in a family who are ALL Christians, with the exception of my late paternal grandparents, who were Buddhists. When I was a little girl, I went to church every Sunday, went to Sunday school and even sang in the church choir (even though I’ve got a terrible singing voice but I guess everyone there was very forgiving !). 

After high school, I started going out on Saturday nights and could never wake up in time for church. And that’s when I stopped going. I was also a very angry teenager right up to my young adulthood. So I rebelled, drank too much, smoked too much and even dabbled on recreational drugs. All this time, my family members (and external family) continued to go to church. I was probably seen by them as the lost/black sheep in the family, the one who broke away and lost faith in God. But little did I know at the time, I was on a journey from self hatred and hatred towards the world to being able to stand on my own two feet. 

I admire people of all religions who turn to their God, it always seems like there’s peace when they give gratitude or if they go through a hard time, they leave their fate to the hands of God. 

However, I, being who I am, have chosen to do it slightly differently. I don’t believe in religion per se. I don’t pray to Jesus or to God. I kinda just try and do the right thing as a human being. I fail plenty of times, especially when I’m angry. I can be sarcastic and I swear so much that I can make a grown man blush. But I am a fiercely loyal friend, wife and mother. I volunteer, give to charity or simply help out a friend in need. I don’t do nice things because my religion tells me to do so, I do nice things because it’s the right thing to do. 

I don’t want to put a label on what I believe in. I believe in something but I don’t know exactly what it is. I believe that there’s life after death in the form of reincarnation and I don’t believe in heaven or hell. I believe we all have souls which continue to move on after we die. 

My brother once asked me “Why are you so angry with God?” And my answer to him was “I’d have to believe in God for me to be angry with him. But I don’t believe in any God, so there’s no anger there.” 

I believe in myself. 

And just like anyone with faith, sometimes they get down and question their faith. Well, sometimes I lose faith in myself too. And like them, they pick themselves up and put their trust in God, I pick myself up and start to believe in myself again. 

I believe that as long as I try everyday to be a good(ish) person, I should be ok, right? As long I teach my kids right from wrong, to be respectful and conscious of people around them, to be kind to others, to show compassion, they should be ok too, right? 

I’ve forgiven the hardest people to forgive, and even found compassion for them. And I’m always grateful for everything that I have. 

I really don’t care if you’re religious or not, as long as you’re a good person, hey, you’re doing things right. 

So I answered the checkout lady “No, I’m not a Christian. I’m not anything, I’m just me!” I giggled, and so did she. While her question shocked me a little at first, I will take it as a compliment. As what she’s really saying to me, is that she likes my values. And that makes me proud, very proud of myself. 

Could we keep our daughter out of Pre-Primary one day a week next year?

So at dinner the other night, my husband Adam suddenly raised this issue which sort of knocked me around a little bit. But not in a bad way.

He said, “Next year, when (Miss 4) goes to Pre-Primary, I don’t want her to have to go to school 5 days a week. There’s no need for a child that age to have to be at school so many days a week.” That sentence, while initially shocked me, got me thinking. Does a 5 year old really need to be at school 5 days a week?

At the moment, Kindergarten runs 5 days a fortnight. 2 days one week, then 3 days the next week. I know that the weeks that she goes to kindy 3 days, she comes home absolutely exhausted on the last day.

Next year, she would have to do 5 full days a week. Many adults go to work the same number of days and same number of hours. Does she really need to be there every day? If she went 4 days a week next year, would she be missing out on much? I mean, it’s only kindergarten.

My first reaction was hell, I’d love to have a break from her everyday. Then I realised, do I really want that break? I work 3 nights a week, which requires me to leave home as soon as she finishes school. So that means next year I only get to spend quality time with her 4 nights a week. Out of that time, I still need to spend quality time with my other three children. 2  (my teenagers) of which spends a week with me and the other week with their dad. And of course, there’s the cooking, cleaning and other chores on top of that.

What exactly will she be missing out if she misses one day of pre-primary each week? I know they teach literacy and numeracy, social skills and motor skills like painting etc. Would she be missing out on much or will she still be able to learn all of those things at home in her daily life? I do most things with her except anything to do with glitter, paint or play dough. 

According to Vittra, “In Sweden, attendance at school is compulsory for all children aged 7-16. The age when children may start school is flexible: a child can start school as a 6, 7 or 8-year-old. Compulsory school is free of charge.”, unlike school here in Australia, where it is compulsory at Pre-Primary (and voluntary charges).

Adam’s point of view comes from a place where he thinks children that age shouldn’t have to be away from home so many days a week. “It’s too much for a little child.”

I agree with him 100%. And I think we will have to head to the principal’s office to have a chat with her to discuss what the ramifications of our daughter if she misses school once a week. We will speak to her at the end of the year. I will keep you all posted with this.

What do you think? Do you think we should keep Miss 4 out of school once a week next year at Pre-primary to spend time with the family? Or do you think it’s important for her to conform with the rest of society?

Did you like this post? Please head over to my Facebook page and give it a like for more stories.

My Night Away On My Own


All set for a relaxing evening!

In May this year, I was inspired to write my very first blog about Mothers Day, about how so many mothers wanted to spend that day relaxing on their own. No kids. I don’t understand it, your children are the reason why you’re a mother, why would you not want to be around them on such a special day?

I came across one of my old Facebook posts from a year ago. It was about my birthday and how my husband got me a hotel room for the night. He knew he wasn’t invited, this was gonna be a one-woman partaaay.

I had two babies who were 18 months apart. I was exhausted from them, I was exhausted from working at the nursing home and I needed to rest and most importantly, I needed some silence.

So, for my birthday, I asked… For me to be on my own. And I got it. Adam booked me a room at the Hyatt Regency. My mother in law asked, “Don’t you want Adam to join you? You’d enjoy it more if he was there, I can babysit the babies for you.” I answered, “How would this idea be relaxing for me? I want a room to myself so I don’t have to talk to anyone, touch anyone, be touched by anyone or to be woken up by snoring.”

We compromised a little on the day. Adam and the babies came to the room and hung out for a little while. We all had McDonalds for dinner and then they had a little bath. It was raining heavily and I could hear the raindrops hitting the window pane. How relaxing! Then the babies started crying. No, stop crying, this is meant to be relaxing for me. So I said to Adam, “Right, you three need to leave for me to really enjoy this birthday present of mine.” I walked them all back to the car, gave them kisses and sprinted back to the elevator.

First thing I did when I walked back into the room was fill the bath with very warm water and some bath bubbles. I took my clothes off and laid in there and listened to the running water from the tap. Aaaaah. Wait. I can hear the loud TV. That’s not relaxing. So I grabbed a towel, got out and turned the TV off. See, if Adam was here, he’d want to watch TV and he probably wouldn’t let me turn it off. Back in the hot bath. Aaaaaaaaah. Silence. I never realized silence could sound so beautiful. 

I then laid in bed with nothing but my bathrobe on. I was all set, I had a new book and a family size block of chocolate in bed with me. I found the room service menu, picked up the phone and ordered tomorrow’s breakfast for 7.30am.

I turned the TV back on and flicked through the channels. As I’m mindlessly watching TV with no interruptions, I sent a text to Adam to say goodnight and that I loved him. I’m pretty sure I didn’t even ask if the babies were alright! I started on my block of chocolate, with nobody asking me for a piece or more. This whole block of chocolate was MINE! All miiiiiiine!!

Wait, what? It’s 3am, and the TV is still on. Did I fall asleep? What time did I fall asleep?? I looked around me and I saw that I didn’t touch my new book and I had eaten 3/4 of the family size block of chocolate. Dare I do this? I broke off another piece of chocolate, ate it, and fell straight back to sleep again.

I woke up at 7am. I walked over to the window, pulled the curtains apart and looked out at the grey skies. So it didn’t turn out to be this “one-woman partaaaay” I had envisioned (I’m not even sure what I expected). Did I enjoy this hotel room? Was it worth the money? Did it live up to the expectations of having time on my own? Yes, yes and a resounding yes. I hopped back into bed to watch the morning news. Nobody’s asking me for a bottle of milk or breakfast. No one is crying or whining about something. Apart from Karl’s voice on The Today Show, the room was silent.

The door bell rings and the hotel waiter has my breakfast.

“Gooooooood morning! Where would you like your breakfast Ma’am?” 

I stood by the door and stared at him for a few seconds. I fantasized dancing around the room (like Sister Maria in the Sound of Music) and bursting into song, “Aaaaaaaanywhere! Surpriiiiise me!” 

And again the waiter asked, “Ma’am? Your breakfast? Where would you like it?” 

I quickly blinked my eyes back to reality, Oh sorry, um, on the bed please, thank you.”


“Aaaaaaaanywhere! Surpriiiiiise me!”

A full cooked breakfast in bed. Sausages, mushrooms, eggs, grilled tomato, bacon and 3 thick cut slices of white bread with a slab of cold pure butter on a little dish. They even put an assortment of little jars of jams!! I didn’t have to cook it and yet it’s sitting on my bed. Just for me. I start digging in. It’s just me, Karl and Lisa from The Today Show.


“I didn’t have to cook it and yet it’s sitting on my bed.”

That was the single most relaxing night/morning I’ve ever had. That was a year ago. Would I ask for the same experience again for my next birthday? Probably not. Not while this experience is still so fresh in my mind. Maybe again when I’ve forgotten what it’s like? Whenever I tell this story to my friends, I’d always say I’ll never forget how beautiful the sound of silence, sounded. 

I highly recommend this to all mums out there who feel burnt out, tired and exhausted from the demands of everyday life. Yeah yeah yeah, you still love your husband and your kids. But you just want some time on your own to recharge. And sleep on a King size bed, with clean and fresh, ironed sheets. That’s what I had and I’ll never forget it. Or when I do eventually forget, then maybe it’s time to do it again. (I might even allow Adam to join me this time, wink wink.)



Did you like this post? Follow me on Facebook and give it a like!