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The Power of Kind Words

It was a stressful morning. I was rushing here and there – picking up the baby by his waist and trying to grab a million other bags and sippy cups and toys. I finally had balanced everything in my arms when I realised  I left my keys on the floor. Do you realise how awful it is to bend at the knees in order to fish for keys while holding onto an extra 10 kilos of baby-and-mummy-goods?!! It’s exhausting! I finally made it into the car and rushed to Woolies to get milk.

I parked in a teeny-tiny parking space. I rushed to get my son out of the car and accidentally bumped his head on the roof. I picked up and dropped my purse three times before I growled and grabbed it with such gusto that anyone seeing me must have thought I was out of my mind. I hobbled into the shop trying to dodge the rain and hoping I didn’t have any food in my hair.

I struggled with trying to carry nappies and milk at the same time, all while trying to keep my son upright – he was bending over to try and look at all the beautiful lollies, and trying to grab at anything I passed. I was a bit frazzled. I arrived at the checkout, and was greeted by a fabulous woman.

She would be in her fifties or sixties. She smiled like she meant it. Her larger-than-life persona helped her fingers bounce off the keyboard and serve her customers quickly. She had laugh-lines, glasses, and a huge smile with real teeth. She greeted me, and suddenly I was brought out of ‘madly-rushing-mummy-world’, and back into the real one. She complimented me on my son, and asked how I was. She genuinely wanted to know. We had a chat, and to be honest with you, I can’t even remember what it is exactly we talked about. But I do remember this: her sincerity made my day. Her kind words gave me something to remember. And you know, it wasn’t just the words, but the meaning behind it that was so powerful.

It got me thinking about the people I find the most encouraging. Often they are the ones that are free; to be kind without abandon or fear. They are the ones that are willing to put you above their own needs. And then I thought about the times I had been the most encouraged: beautiful words from my mother-in-law, heartfelt and tearful ‘thank-yous’ and ‘goodbyes’ from my old Iranian boss, honesty from a dear friend – they have been precious, precious times indeed. I still remember them, even years after the fact. They have given me something positive to hold onto, even when things seem out of whack.

And so, lets try to make our words encouraging and kind. Let our eyes say what our lips might not express enough……you never know, you might just make someone’s day (and it doesn’t cost a cent!).

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The Managing Mummy

I was looking at my son’s face. He was adoringly looking up at me. His blue eyes were wide and unblinking. His hands were in his lap. One of them was holding onto my thumb. His little pink mouth was relaxed and open. Eyebrows were up and he stared at me, then the corners of his mouth wiggled into a half smile. He put his chubby hand on my nose and said ‘ahhh!’

It was such a precious moment. I love the smell of my son. I love his whisps of blonde hair and the soft skin at the back of his neck. I love how cute he is sitting up so straight, and looking so young and so old at the same time. He’s simply adorable. I couldn’t imagine my life without him.


In that moment, I hadn’t been adoring him back. I was thinking about what I needed to be doing. I was managing our day. There was a mountain of washing in the laundry. I needed to fold what already had been washed. I needed to make some more baby food. I needed to calculate when his next sleep was. I needed to figure out when I could squeeze in a trip to the grocery store – in between naps. I was thinking about how important it was for me to teach him to be confident in his independence. And about when I should be giving him panadol for his sole erupting tooth.

 We are a managing mummy generation. The baby advice industry is HUGE. Most parenting books talk about structure, routine and troubleshooting strategies for when your darling baby won’t eat, sleep or poop ‘properly’. We indulge in so much information, and compare our situations with other mums. Suddenly, the majority of our day is spent planning or implementing these strategies. We have the best intentions of course! We love our children. We want them to be the happiest that they can. We want to be responsible mummies.

But I felt so guilty in that moment when I realized that instead of enjoying my son, I was going a million miles an hour in managing our day. I was somewhere else. How sad.

 My son is now almost 9 months old. I always used to say ‘time just flies, doesn’t it!? I mean, where has it gone?!’ But now, I know where it’s gone. It’s gone within all the thoughts and good intentions of our Mummy-brains. It’s gone in the hours of baby food preperation, in the baby-proofing the house, the hours spent trawling the internet to find a cheaper price on clothes, toys, books. And the books we read and re-read to make sure we’re not missing anything.

But I fear that one day, I’ll realise my Mummy-brain had completely taken over, and I had lost so many special moments that I could have had with my child.

So lets enjoy our days and nights – no matter how many wake-ups it entails. We could toss the books aside for a while, yeah? Lets enjoy the smells and kisses and cuddles (while they last), and teach our children the most important lesson; to live to the full. Every, single, day.

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The Blind Singer

I watched ‘The Voice’ when little Rachael Leahcar took the stage. She sang a gorgeous rendition of La Vie En Rose, and brought all four judges around. Delta teared up and enjoyed every moment. I was determined not to cry, but it made the lump in my throat bigger and bigger! I finally relented, and let the tears fall – they didn’t stay there; I scooped them up with a tissue asap. :)I couldn’t believe it. I was crying at a cheesy reality show. I was doing exactly what the producers wanted me to do. I bowed my head and accepted defeat.

But there was something about that girl. Not just her voice, but her personality.

The judges smothered her with praise for her ‘angelic’ and ‘innocent’ soul and aura. I kind of zoned out at that stage, but those comments resonated with me when I realised that the judges were completely right. What touched me was her innocence. The way she looked shocked when they said that she had overwhelmed them with her grace and poise. She looked even more shocked when they raved about her voice. She knew her gift, but was was genuinely amazed at their generous response. Even her walk was humble. She couldn’t see much in front of her, but each step she took was small, definite, and quiet. She didn’t ask much of life. She didn’t ask much of the judges. She didn’t have her hopes up in front of her – making her vulnerable to criticism. She knew what would be, would be.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone like that.

It got me a-thinking (as most things do). Why was it so refreshing to see a singer with that gentle, humble, innocent, quiet soul oozing from a little body? Well. Because we just don’t see it often.

In this quick-fix, go-get-em, convenient, noisy, busy, consumerism world, people like little Rachael  (and I hate to say this) just don’t stay that way. We are told to grow up, toughen up, be clear, to get it done. Get it done, get it done, get it done. At all costs. And we do, we get it done. We are forced to choose what we want to do with the rest of our lives, and forced to run after it. If we start to fall short, we are told to worry, to get uptight, suspicious and sneaky. There’s not much trust in fate, or God or destiny.

And so seeing Rachael fill the stage with her kind, quiet, peaceful spirit sent me a little reminder through the TV. Stay young. Stay naive. Take risks, but don’t let the fear of failure change us. Take a minute to reassess what’s important. Is it so important to make everything happen ourselves? Could we just let things happen, and let the chips fall where they may?

Something to consider….

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Soup, Soup, Soup

I made a tasty cauliflower, sweet potato, leek and cheese mash for my 8 month old son a couple of weeks ago. The smell was tremendous, so I had a taste – delicious!

We’ve now injected a healthy serving of steaming soup into our diet. Here’s some amazing recipes that I want to try this week!

Middle Eastern-style lentil and spinach soup

Carrot and chickpea soup

Asian chicken, corn and noodle soup

Lentil, barley and mushroom soup


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Hello world!

Wow. Hello. Is anyone out there? Is anyone reading this? I can almost hear my words echo!

It’s funny how the internet can seem congested with viewers, readers and opinions, but also a quiet, eerie,  and echoing place.

I’ll remember my manners and introduce myself. My name is Naomi Joy Pearce. ‘Joy’ because my Dad was joyfully singing in the shower the morning I was born – although I do wonder if that’s a cover-up for the fact that they were searching for something that goes with ‘Naomi’. ‘Pearce’ is my husband’s name. I always thought I would hyphen….until I met my husband.  ‘Naomi Prince-Pearce’ would be too much of a mouthful.

I’m married to the man who is my number 1 fan. He makes me happy. I have a kind of expensive taste. Except for food, mouthwash and loo paper. I like driving small cars. My favourite colour to wear is white. My favourite colour to look at is pink, white…..and beige. I love any kind of cake or ice-cream, although I’m not eating a lot of that at the moment!

The crispness of winter inspires me. I love photos. Paullina Simons writes the way I would like to one day. I prefer to let my hair air-dry, although I always feel guilty when I do. I  found out recently that I hate wearing nail polish. I love dogs, but don’t like walking them. It makes me happy there are still decent trees around. I love a bargain – in anything. And……

Something magical happened to me last year.

I had a little baby. He changed my life. He opened up my heart, and I suddenly realised that I had been a mother all my life. I love to talk about him, share pictures of him, and generally rave like a proud mamma.

Now you know about me, but if I left anything out, please ask!


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