All Posts By

Cheryl Parsons

Life Lessons, Parenthood, Yoga

The real yoga

My daughter is almost as tall as me.
Her feet are bigger than mine.

She’s 11. I’m 43.

Last year she was 4. At least that’s how it feels…
Oh, the swift pace of this crazy life!

And this parenting malarkey. I’ve not yet nailed it – have you?
Everyday – a new lesson, a new guilt.
A daily reminder that I am human.

This for me is the real yoga.
Forget the headstands, your crow obsession or the depth of your backbend.

Real yoga is about living real life. In all its messy, fast-moving glory.

Can you hold on when the ride gets tough? Can you drop the judgement? Can you sit with yourself and rest in the not knowing…

Because kids will get taller. Their feet will get bigger. Their cheeks no longer chubby.

They’ll borrow your make-up, your money, your car. They’ll make you laugh and smile and drive you bat sh@t crazy.

And they’ll grow before your eyes in what feels like record speed.

So can you pause for a moment – hand on heart – and acknowledge how far you’ve come.

Drop the judgement, drop the worry and drink it all in.

Because each new phase is a reminder of this beautiful cycle of life.

Our biggest yoga practice of all.

Parenthood

There once was a day

There once was a day when she felt a shift.

When she exhaled the grip in her soft belly and thought:
Enough is enough.
An end to the judgment, the constant berating.
The quiet voice inside that shouts:
You’re doing it wrong.
Do it that way. Be more like this. Don’t do that.
Can’t you be more like her?

There once was a day when she hugged her children tight.
Laughed in tandem at her dislike of craft projects.
Her cringe at their desire to ‘help’ bake. Flour strewn on the floor.
When they chuckled at her frowns over forts –
Her frustration over messy rooms.
Socks everywhere,
One always missing.
The laundry exploding from the basket.
Slime that never comes off the carpet –
Delightfully mashed in by careless little feet.

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Life Lessons

A Letter to my Crazies

May I never dampen your spirit.
May I embrace the daily chaos – welcome it all in.
Even if it drives me bat shit crazy.
May I sort out your clothes
Tossed forever just a foot from the basket –
If they even make it that far at all.

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Life Lessons

Lean clean machine

If you’ve been following some of my social media posts recently, then you might know I’ve just come to the end of a 21 day cleanse. First, let’s read the riot act involved; no dairy, no gluten, no sugar,  no caffeine, no booze. No animal protein from week 2. Optional magnesium salt baths, liver cleansing castor oil packs. Tumeric tea. Definitely no G n T.

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Life Lessons

Oh, hey Guilt

You’re back so soon? Didn’t we just have coffee? I thought we’d been over the fact that I shouldn’t get so annoyed with the kids? So irritated when my words frequently fall on small, fluff filled ears. I thought I’d made it clear that I’d be less pissed off in future, about having to repeat myself like a parrot to get the simplest of tasks done.

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Life Lessons

Happy Campers

“What are you going to say to the lady at the hire place when you drop the campervan back?” I ask the husband half way through our five hour commute back to civilisation.

“That was SO brilliant, thanks EVER so much!” he replies with fake joviality. We both laugh, by now fully able to admit: We’re not cut out for this campervanning malarkey.

Let’s rewind the clock shall we?

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Parenthood

Hello, anyone in?

“Fff – Uuuhh – Ccc,” says Molly, carefully sounding out the letters phonetically. “What does that spell Mummy?” she asks with a sheepish look on her face. “I think you know fine rightly what that spells, Miss Molly Parsons,” I say sharply. “You tell me.”

“I think it’s a naughty word, Mummy. A word that we might say it if we’re really tired or very cross.”

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Food

Easy almond milk

Have you noticed everyone seems to be either making or thinking about making almond milk these days? I’ve been meaning to try it for a while, as we often spend a small fortune on it, but I never had one of those trendy nut ‘mylk’ bag thingys to squeeze it all through. Finally a friend suggested I use a baby muslin cloth. Now those I have. In abundance. So finally, I made my own, and it was so much less of the faff than I thought it would be.  Continue Reading