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of the parental kind.

parental kind 2

of the parental kind
A little poem that was floating around in my head at 4am this morning when I was feeding my little lady.

Dedicated to my body builder, our unreal experiences, those things no-one told us…

of the parental kind.

They lied but I still like it…

Early mornings,

Broken sleep,

Unmet expectations,

of the parental kind.

Blueberry purple stains,

Racing cars under feet,

Tantrums and melt downs,

of the parental kind.

Chocolate on elephants heads,

Shoes on the wrong feet,

Toilet train bribes,

of the parental kind.

Pancakes with lemon butter,

Animals at our local fair,

Train blurred moments,

of the parental kind.

Toys in our bed linen,

Bubbles in their bath,

Reading books by torchlight,

of the parental kind.

Lego built mansions,

Rolling down sand dunes,

Overwhelmed by little moments,

of the parental kind.

Loud lullabies at midnight,

Dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets,

Abney and Teal giggles,

of the parental kind.

Whispers saying I luff you,

Best friend promises by boys,

Golden hazed memories,

of the parental kind.

Not what we expected,

Many noises and patience required,

but overwhelmedly sublime privileges,

of the parental kind.

Dedicated to my Charl on this Fathers Day.


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Health and wellness

spring two


spring three

Spring has well and truly sprung in our little piece of Eden.

Our lime tree that sits in a wine barrel on our tiny porch has flowers for the first time promising fruit this summer.

Little birds jump along our window sill awakening life to the sound of the morning.

And my post pregnancy body is ready to move again and get back into shape for summer.

As I read stories of friends and families who completed marathons yesterday, I am both inspired and terrified for the year ahead.

I am inspired because I desperately long to fit back into my pre-pregnancy jeans, but terrified about the eternal roller coaster of emotions that dieting and exercise bring into my days.

We have scales in our house for the first time in five years and my husband and I have a goal to lose a certain amount of weight by a certain time, with a reward at the end.

My husband is off and racing, inspired and encouraged at his progress already and I am quiet in my despair that another go, another app on my phone, another list of to do’s and I will fail again.

spring four

You see Charl is a body builder by trade, a Muay thai fighter by night and a personal trainer by profession.

I am a cake baker, a people lover, a hospitality fiend and a writer by passion.

None of my characteristics lean towards success in this area but overall health and wellness is imperative for my future and family.

Charl and I had a profound conversation last week, with the words he said still ringing in my heart.

He kindly said;

‘The problem is babe, you are so focussed on diet and exercise that you will always fail because it is not a natural part of your make up. You need to change the tone and language, to health and fitness. When you are focussed on wellness and training for life, your motivation towards change is so much more apparent.”





That I can do.

I want to live a Healthy life, for my future, my potential, my passion and my privileges.

I want to train hard towards goals like the city to surf, because I want my children to be proud of their mum who is motivated at the school gate.

I want to choose nutrition that is about wellness and energy, allowing me to bring my best to all the areas that demand me of my time.

I want to look at my camera and not delete photos so that a record of my current shape is removed from my hard drive.

I want to live free from the shame of being overweight and unfit.

Day by day.

Choice by choice.

I want it to be a lifestyle not a fad and unfortunately the amount of years that the latest diet has plagued my fridge is way longer than the amount of years I have lived with my husband, who encourages me towards healthy living rather than strict plans that fail constantly.

Here is a toast towards wellness this spring.

Making choices that are healthy rather than starving myself away from nutrition and wellbeing.

Step by step.

Run by run.

Moment by moment.

Choosing life.


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kiss and drive

Amanda cover

Last Saturday I spoke at a women’s retreat with some of my closest friends.

Kelley told a story about her teenage son, that completely cracked me up, she told the ladies how she had her son convinced, right until the end of primary school that ‘Kiss and Drive’ the drop off point at the front gate of the school was exactly that.




She explained as her son grew older, she felt him start to inch away from him and physical touch became ‘uncool, unwanted and definitely not at the school gate’.

She told him though, that it was the rules. He could not leave the car until he kissed her every morning.

In highschool he became a little wiser and could not believe that she had fooled him for so many years.

As I walked away from this story and the women’s retreat, I had these words ringing in my heart.

Coupled with this story, I had read an article on the internet that week as well, about toddler tantrums and how to combat them.

The psychologist was preposing, that physical touch was one of the best ways to counteract toddler tantrums and quickly bring sanity to the moment.

Enter my current reality.

I have a two and a half year old and a three week old.

I have noticed my son Maximus, starting to respond a lot more emotionally to situations in the last week and so I did what was current and increased the hugs in our household.

One lunchtime he sat at his highchair exhausted, crying for no real reason…

Just at the end of his emotional capacity.

I grabbed a chair, sat behind him and just hugged him. I held him for more than 20 mins.

I held him and he did not want to let me go.

max and libby 2

max and libby

This week I have found myself hugging my husband more.

Holding my baby closer to my chest.

Pulling my family in, to counteract the transition of the season.

Physical touch.

Just the thought of touch, has been almost dirtied in our contemporary times, with Dads not knowing whether they will be judged for intimacy with their children, Mum’s so busy that slowing their family down one hug at a time is complex.



Family intimacy has been relegated to quiet whispers, hoping not to be criticised for our public displays of affection.

I am determined to be a Mum that extends physical expressions of my love to my family as often as I can.

Without fear of condemnation.

As my son grows older, I am going to increase not decrease holding him.

amanda and libby

mum libby and me

If I am feeling frustrated with my toddler I am going to hug him.

If I am feeling far away from my husband because he is working hard for our family, I am going to hold him when he arrives home from work, expressing my thanks without words.

Late at night when my newborn is fussing and unable to sleep, I am going to kiss her head and snuggle into her smell, holding her close in this season, to bring comfort and calm.

My natural desire is to pull away and want to regroup by myself, but in the midst of hard times physical touch brings comfort and I am determined to surrender to it.

I must admit I am not a natural hugger. I sometimes feel awkward when people launch themselves at me, not sure whether to hug, shake hands or kiss on one cheek or two.

I want to fight against this awkwardness though, in the knowledge that our society is crumbling out of loneliness and disconnection. Whether we like the feeling or not, physical touch. Safe physical touch, brings healing and life.

Are you feeling disconnected?

When was the last time someone hugged you, for no other reason than to just provide comfort?

Sometimes we use way to many words in a situation, when all that is needed is a safe hug that lets the person know that they are loved.

These are the beautiful lessons I am learning in my season of novice motherhood.

The tender, compassionate mercies of a simple hug.

Speak next sunday

(Photos were taken when Liberty was one week old, by the amazing Natalie Chambers from Shining Light Photography, for those living in Perth, contact her for family portraits and let her know that you were recommended by me.)


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broken crayons

Amanda cover
The wheels have started to fall off our baby bubble and the hard parts have begun to set in.

Our two year old, who goes to sleep normally within a reasonable amount of time and sleeps a solid night, has decided whatever is happening everywhere else in the house but his bedroom is the party he has missed the invite to.

Our newborn who was sleeping 18 hrs a day and smiling softly as she slept has begun to wake up.

Sore bodies

Tired minds

More caffeine

Which equals more upset tummy’s.

Our week has rolled out with highs and lows, but we are determined to soak up the moments whilst my body builder is home from work and enjoy even the sleeplessness of a newborn.

Whoever said ‘Sleep like a baby?’ obviously never tried to fit a toddler, a newborn, a body builder and a creative into a 1970’s beachside shack.

I saw this quote this week and it made me smile. (In fact I giggled a little bit, it felt like a prophetic statement of my now.)


As a child, whenever a crayon broke, I would throw it away with disgust, needing the perfection of the moment to create my latest design.

As an adult I have learnt that even broken crayons colour. In fact there are no perfect crayons sitting at any of my coffee tables or dinner tables, every adult I meet has a story that has defined them.

Is there a part of your life right now, that you are missing moments of beauty and creativity because your crayons are a little cracked?

Are you waiting for that perfect moment to start enjoying a season, without realising the colour and beauty is accessible if you just celebrate your now?

Our week has been a little broken.

broken crayon

Moments of cross words, sore knees, broken bodies, tired eye lids, long sips of coffee but honestly it has been filled with moments of beauty and divine inspiration.

Our two week old went for her first walk on the beach.

Our toddler discovered his shadow for the first time and said goodbye to it and then realised with absolute surprise that his shadow was following him.

The series here on Capture life has been really moving me, with inspiration from my friends all over Australia.

My body builder fixed a pair of curtains in our shack, that have been annoying us for over two years.



As we start to acknowledge the colour and beauty, we start to forget that the utensils we are writing with are a little bent.

If you feel like all your colours are fading and your crayons are bending, just take some time to acknowledge the beauty and colour and suddenly it won’t matter anymore.

A scripture has been floating around my head this week;

Psalm 18: 19

He brought me out to a wide-open place.

He rescued me because he was pleased with me.

I realised this week, that the last few months of my pregnancy, I hadn’t gone outside very often and I had spent a lot of time inside. It was winter, I was exhausted with a two year old and my everyday tasks.

We walked the beach this week in the midst of very tired eyes and sore bodies, the winter sun beamed strongly on our shoulders, our toddler ran along the beach immersing himself in the moment, we held hands and our newborn swung softly in the carrier on my husbands chest.

It felt like a very wide open space.

The brokenness of the season felt as far away in that moment as the distant ocean we were soaking our senses in.

Somedays we need to simply walk ourselves into a wide open space and feel the release from the heaviness of the season, allowing the colour to rise in our hearts.

Broken crayons still colour my friend.

Speak next sunday

(Enjoy my friends each day between now and then.)




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Brain Pictures

Amanda cover

This last week has been breath taking. Moments of sheer bliss, moments of over-tired determination, moments of pain, moments of overwhelmed-ness, moments of vulnerability and moments of sheer beauty.

On the 22nd of July at 1.36pm, after waiting for Miss V to come for weeks she arrived in true Viviers fashion.

Liberty Elizabeth Viviers

7 pound 2

49cms long

brown hair

dark blue/ black eyes.

Me pre surgery.jpg


The first week in a newborns life brings with it a roller coaster of emotions but before our little girl came to town, my husband and I had a big conversation about how we wanted to handle this transition in our lives.

We found a scripture from Matthew that really spoke to us;

28-30 “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

We knew there would be moments of burden, extreme tiredness and emotions, so we wanted a mantra to help us through those times.

Our mantra is this;


I find myself asking saying internally, ‘find the grace, find the grace. It is here somewhere.

I found this video this week and it really impacted me.

There is one line that stuck and I remembered it as I walked out of the hospital with our precious little lady.

Take Brain Pictures.

I stood at the exit of the hospital doors, waiting with Miss Liberty in our capsule as my husband ran in the rain to our car and I felt like it was a little message just for me.

Take more brain pictures.

I stood there rain pelting down, the smell of winter, fresh and surreal and I took a brain picture.

I took a deep breath, I slowed myself intentionally and made a memory.

I took a brain picture.

We spend, all day everyday, thinking about taking photos to share with the world on our social media platforms but what about making memories for no one but your own catalogue of memories?

I have found this need to take photos to share magnified with a newborn. You want to record and remember everything through technology.

As much as this is a brilliant blessing of our age, it is also a terrible distraction.

We sit on our phones editing, tinting, publishing and producing our images but often miss the memories that the moments are actually producing.

I am determined with my second child to take brain pictures.

A moment of acknowledgment that I am present, I am remembering and I am accessing the beauty of that very moment.

Not to publish

Not to reproduce

Not to show anyone

But to encourage my beautiful family with the greatest gift, the gift of my attention.

Speak next Sunday.

Remember this week as I am reminding myself to;

Take more brain pictures.

From our baby bubble