To blog or not to blog? That was the question on my mind for years. Despite my love to express through written word, I felt no pull to be a blogger as I find the older I get the less I seem to know. And bloggers are experts right? Thus, I shelved the idea. Until now.

It’s time for me to write. Not because I am an expert, but because I am wanting to learn and grapple with these ideas that are bouncing around inside of me….. wanting to come out. I feel heavy laden with them. So I feel it’s time to unload them….. give birth to them…. in the shape of a blog.

For those who know me well know that I run. I am one of those crazy people who foregoes sleep to do it. I do it everyday…. without fail. My husband has long stopped telling me to rest, despite only having a few hours interrupted sleep because of babies. He knows it’s what makes me tick. I have tried to figure out why I do it. I don’t want to compete in any races and don’t want to lose weight. I think I have resolved that I do it because I am so accustomed to my natural endorphin release that I now can’t do without it. But more so, I love to think, reflect, meditate and pray without interruption. Basically it’s where I get my soul food.

So what has this got to do with blogging? Well over five years ago we moved areas and I lost my running buddies. It was then I discovered podcasts. I listen to 2 or 3 every morning, everyday. They range on topics from parenting, marriage, education, science & faith. Basically I listen to anything that gives me an insight into this world in which we live, and the life created within it. And wow I have discovered some pearls. It is these pearls that I want, or need, to share. They are not mine, they are borrowed and translated through my own life experiences as a mother, wife, daughter and friend. Some of these pearls I have managed to successfully implement in my life, many I haven’t. However I feel, through sharing them I think I will hold myself accountable in the areas I lack. The unique thing about pearls is that they are something unique and valuable that have been formed through a process of discomfort and irritation for the oyster.  It is very much the same for these areas I plan to target in this blog…… areas I have struggled and have endeavoured to overcome.  Yet I believe something beautiful has come out of it.  And if you are like me and you are in a season of life where catching up on sleep has taken priority over reading, then this is the blog for you.  I have pretty much taken some advice that experts have written several books on, condensed it down to deliver it in bite-size pieces and filtered through the reality I am living right now.

So what’s with the “butcher’s wife”? Well this has recently become my title it seems. I first heard this when a friend told me she was talking about me (having seven kids) to someone unrelated, when the woman responded “oh yes, that’s the butcher’s wife….”. I have been referred to as this several times since but it was this first time that stung the most. I had to analyze myself and why I squirmed when given this title. I actually think butchering is one of the most hardworking professions out there and my husband, Simon, would be proud to be a butcher. But it was more that I don’t even have a title of my own. I have long stopped referring to myself as a teacher, as I have been out of the classroom for 13 years and I never struggled with being referred to as a stay-at-home-mum. I was born for this mothering gig, despite my failings at times, so I wore the “home-duties” badge with pride……. but no title at all was a bit ouchy, particularly in a world where it’s all about self-expressionism and identity.

It wasn’t until I was being prepped for a surgery recently that it became clear to me. The theatre was nearly held up because the highly esteemed surgeon found out I had seven kids and wanted to glean some tips for helping his unsettled firstborn and his distraught wife at home. After offering some advice it dawned on me that when it comes to parenting, marriage and anything to with the complexities of life and relationships….. we are, in essence, all butcher’s wives. You can have multiple degrees and a thousand letters after your name, and yet parenting can bring you to your knees. When it comes to matters of the heart, it is a level playing field. We are all figuring it out whether you are highly skilled in your profession and whether you didn’t finish school…… if you came from a loving family or a disfunctional one. Heart stuff defies all backgrounds, gender, race and education.

Needless to say, once I came to this conclusion I was fine with being a butcher’s wife. And I can honestly say my worth is not based on what my label is or what I do. I am actually more secure in who I am than I have ever been, which is probably a healthy place to start a blog. But the journey in which I got here does explain the random title….. Pearls from The Butcher’s Wife. I have to say I am excited about releasing these borrowed pearls. I am planning on writing as regularly as possible, spanning from topics such as teens, marriage, discipline and even sex. They are all written on the bases of design…… the beauty of design and what we can learn from it.

I hope you will journey with me, but if not that’s ok. If nothing else this will be a record for my kids to know what their mum gets up to while they are snug in their beds at dawn, and despite my flaws my intentions are pure; for them to be fully known, fully loved and to discover their purpose.

And just for the record, Sime is actually a muso/business owner/fun dad…..not a butcher but he doesn’t mind if you assume otherwise.

Greta, The Butcher’s Wife ????