The last few months have been kind of tough for this family. Parts of this toughness have resulted in lots of joy and lots of love coming into our lives. Parts have resulted in a little more healing. Other parts have just been tough.
Reading back over the last few months of blog posts, I realised that I've been kind of stuck. Almost every post is about grief or a dead member of our family. Warrior Wednesdays, things to or about Daddy Kewl... And not a whole lot else. Certainly not much evidence of the spectacularly magical moments the Kewl girls are (or should be!) reknowned for.
The last post I wrote was about wanting to go back - not just to the old blog, but to what life was like for us this time last year. When I reread that post now, I don't like where my thoughts were at. I know that time is perpetual motion. It does not stop and you cannot go back, the absolute best you can do is embrace the now and look forward to the future. I know this, but I don't seem to be living by it.
I think the title, "Back to the Future", was an attempt by my subconscious to articulating the fact that more than going back in time, I want to create certain feelings from the past in my future. I want the joy and that sense of family back in the here and now. Today. And living in the past is never going to achieve this.
So, as of today, I'm readjusting my gaze. I've had enough of looking backwards - my neck is sore and I keep tripping over things in the here and now - or worse still - missing the important bits, because I'm not paying enough attention to where I am or where I'm going.
I may not be surrounded by my freak family and I may not be watching Zy grow up - But I AM surrounded by an amazing family of little people, and I have the absolute privileged of watching them grow up.
My family is not stuck back at this time last year, and neither is the love and the joy that I want to fill my life with. Everything I want is right here, right now.
In fact, life is pretty spectacular, really. You just have to know where to look.
Showing posts with label Living. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Living. Show all posts
Living
Dear M,
When we first met, we were part of our circus family. It was a very large, very extended family - it's volume in numbers matched only by the volume of love generated by it's members.
I remember flirting with you across the dinner table at one of our big family get togethers, as eccentric aunts and overprotective uncles raised their watchful eyes at us. The sense of love and security I felt then was something I carried with me as we began our life - and our family - together.
We always talked about having a large family, and how it wouldn't be determined by genes. We talked about being a drop in place for our extended family of circus freaks and when we were deciding where we would build our home, you found land far enough away to be in the bush, and at the same time, close enough to a main town and highway to be easily accessible.
We talked about fostering, and we talked about being a safe place for the local kids to be after school and on weekends.
When you died, it felt like a lot of our dreams died with you. My dreams of family life, the way we'd imagined it, they died when I became a single parent. Not that there is anything wrong with single parent families - it's just not what we had planned.
Recently, Mr R and TJ have joined our family. Even more recently, the arrangement changed from something short term, to something medium, or even long term.
Tonight, 8 people sat at our dinner table, laughing and joking and teasing and talking. I know you would have loved it, and I would have loved to share it with you (more than you being there in spirit, anyway).
Then someone on an online forum said, "You are living my dream, Al."
And I had the spectacular, joyful, freeing kind of moment that blew the grief haze away and filled my body with energy and light.
It doesn't matter that I can't see you, or touch you, or hear you tell me you love me.
It doesn't matter that I can't share this life with you in the way that I want to.
Because I am living our dream.
The more I miss you - and the more you miss us - the more I will just have to live it for both of us.
I love you, M.
When we first met, we were part of our circus family. It was a very large, very extended family - it's volume in numbers matched only by the volume of love generated by it's members.
I remember flirting with you across the dinner table at one of our big family get togethers, as eccentric aunts and overprotective uncles raised their watchful eyes at us. The sense of love and security I felt then was something I carried with me as we began our life - and our family - together.
We always talked about having a large family, and how it wouldn't be determined by genes. We talked about being a drop in place for our extended family of circus freaks and when we were deciding where we would build our home, you found land far enough away to be in the bush, and at the same time, close enough to a main town and highway to be easily accessible.
We talked about fostering, and we talked about being a safe place for the local kids to be after school and on weekends.
When you died, it felt like a lot of our dreams died with you. My dreams of family life, the way we'd imagined it, they died when I became a single parent. Not that there is anything wrong with single parent families - it's just not what we had planned.
Recently, Mr R and TJ have joined our family. Even more recently, the arrangement changed from something short term, to something medium, or even long term.
Tonight, 8 people sat at our dinner table, laughing and joking and teasing and talking. I know you would have loved it, and I would have loved to share it with you (more than you being there in spirit, anyway).
Then someone on an online forum said, "You are living my dream, Al."
And I had the spectacular, joyful, freeing kind of moment that blew the grief haze away and filled my body with energy and light.
It doesn't matter that I can't see you, or touch you, or hear you tell me you love me.
It doesn't matter that I can't share this life with you in the way that I want to.
Because I am living our dream.
The more I miss you - and the more you miss us - the more I will just have to live it for both of us.
I love you, M.
Five is way better than four
"I can't wait until I am five, because Five is way better than four, you know!"
Spoken by Miss J, on a daily basis.
The above quote is something that in the past, I have had trouble embracing. I am all for having things to look forward to, but I am also big on "living in the moment". I am one of those hippie freaks who doesn't believe in saying "I'll be happy when..."
Because if you're not happy now, you will always be searching for a new when.
A few weeks ago, the opportunity for Mr R to come and stay with us presented itself, and true to the moment, we embraced it. The addition of Mr R took the number of Kewl kids in our home from 3 to 4.
Today we embraced another opportunity and another addition. My 2nd cousin - 7yo Mr T - arrived from interstate and he will be staying with us for a while.
This takes the Kewl kid total up to 5.
As I looked around our dinner table tonight, I found myself agreeing totally with Miss J -
Five is way better than four.
Spoken by Miss J, on a daily basis.
The above quote is something that in the past, I have had trouble embracing. I am all for having things to look forward to, but I am also big on "living in the moment". I am one of those hippie freaks who doesn't believe in saying "I'll be happy when..."
Because if you're not happy now, you will always be searching for a new when.
A few weeks ago, the opportunity for Mr R to come and stay with us presented itself, and true to the moment, we embraced it. The addition of Mr R took the number of Kewl kids in our home from 3 to 4.
Today we embraced another opportunity and another addition. My 2nd cousin - 7yo Mr T - arrived from interstate and he will be staying with us for a while.
This takes the Kewl kid total up to 5.
As I looked around our dinner table tonight, I found myself agreeing totally with Miss J -
Five is way better than four.
Cheers!
Last night (Sunday) I re-entered two worlds that I haven't been part of for quite a while, and I entered for the first time, a new world that is waaaaaaay outside of anything I ever thought I'd experience...
I went to a bar.
I ran a performance installation piece (no - I'm not really sure what 'performance installation piece' means either).
And I spoke to a bar full of total strangers about the last moments of Daddy Kewl's life.
To put that all together (partly for my benefit as I am still not sure I understand exactly what I was thinking or doing!) - last night I went into a bar where total strangers were eating and drinking, I cut the lights at 20 minute intervals, and during those black outs I told the story of Daddy Kewl's last day with us.
It started off as a bit of fun - the black outs had people curious and the beginning snippets of the story were light hearted and fun. Right before the last black out I handed out free beers to everyone. Naturally, this was very well received.
Then for the last time, the lights went out and I began speaking...
"One second... he said. He sounded distracted. Worse - He sounded serious. There was screeching. Then crunching. Crackling through the phone line. Then nothing. Oh no."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the bar. The lights came up slowly as I continued speaking - getting voicemail, putting the children in the car, driving, the rising panic, seeing the flashing lights, the crumpled metal, finally, seeing M and finishing with the words, "He is gone. He is dead."
Once I stopped speaking, I took a moment to compose myself, then the lights went down again and a spotlight came up on a small stage where I was now standing. I explained that the man who killed my husband had been drinking, but decided to get in the car anyway. He relised his favourite TV show was about to start, so he put his foot down. He was one block from home when he ran a stop sign and hit M's car.
M was killed instantly.
He did not get to see our twin daughters turn one.
He was not there for the birth of our youngest.
He will never be here for birthdays.
For Christmas.
To hear the "I love you"s.
See the smiles.
Give the cuddles.
He'll miss every second.
The other guy was physically unharmed.
But he did miss his TV show.
I went on to mention the free beer people were holding, and the split second it took them to decide whether they wanted it or not.
I asked them to hold the bottles up and look underneath.
To the people with a black dot under their bottles - I'm sorry - You were just hit by a drink driver. But don't worry, you didn't suffer. You were killed instantly.
To the people with a red dot under their bottles - Opps - You just drove drunk and caused an accident. But don't worry, they didn't suffer. They were killed instantly.
To the people with a white dot under their bottles - Congratulations - You have just won a $50 Taxi voucher, and you won't kill anyone on your drive home tonight.
Finally, I asked people to remember how easy it is to make split second decisions without giving them much thought.
And I asked that next time, when they have to choose, they make their second count.
There was a round of applause that was hesitant, as if people were not sure whether they should be clapping or not, then without me even realising what was happening, people started emptying their beers.
They tipped them down sinks behind the bar, over the veranda, down drains and gutters and into toilets.
As I watched the people around me emptying their drinks, I felt as though all of the emotions that had been bottled up in order to put together and present the installation were being released. I exhaled, for what felt like the first time in weeks, and just like that, it was all gone.
When the last bottle was emptied another round of applause erupted in the bar, and this time it was packed with energy and intent.
Tonight, I am absolutely exhausted... But I feel better than I have done in months.
One last thing... To everyone at the bar last night, and to everyone who helped make the installation successful, and to everyone who has put up with me while I've had my head so far up the proverbial backside of this new world -
Cheers!
To making every second count.
I went to a bar.
I ran a performance installation piece (no - I'm not really sure what 'performance installation piece' means either).
And I spoke to a bar full of total strangers about the last moments of Daddy Kewl's life.
To put that all together (partly for my benefit as I am still not sure I understand exactly what I was thinking or doing!) - last night I went into a bar where total strangers were eating and drinking, I cut the lights at 20 minute intervals, and during those black outs I told the story of Daddy Kewl's last day with us.
It started off as a bit of fun - the black outs had people curious and the beginning snippets of the story were light hearted and fun. Right before the last black out I handed out free beers to everyone. Naturally, this was very well received.
Then for the last time, the lights went out and I began speaking...
"One second... he said. He sounded distracted. Worse - He sounded serious. There was screeching. Then crunching. Crackling through the phone line. Then nothing. Oh no."
An uncomfortable silence settled over the bar. The lights came up slowly as I continued speaking - getting voicemail, putting the children in the car, driving, the rising panic, seeing the flashing lights, the crumpled metal, finally, seeing M and finishing with the words, "He is gone. He is dead."
Once I stopped speaking, I took a moment to compose myself, then the lights went down again and a spotlight came up on a small stage where I was now standing. I explained that the man who killed my husband had been drinking, but decided to get in the car anyway. He relised his favourite TV show was about to start, so he put his foot down. He was one block from home when he ran a stop sign and hit M's car.
M was killed instantly.
He did not get to see our twin daughters turn one.
He was not there for the birth of our youngest.
He will never be here for birthdays.
For Christmas.
To hear the "I love you"s.
See the smiles.
Give the cuddles.
He'll miss every second.
The other guy was physically unharmed.
But he did miss his TV show.
I went on to mention the free beer people were holding, and the split second it took them to decide whether they wanted it or not.
I asked them to hold the bottles up and look underneath.
To the people with a black dot under their bottles - I'm sorry - You were just hit by a drink driver. But don't worry, you didn't suffer. You were killed instantly.
To the people with a red dot under their bottles - Opps - You just drove drunk and caused an accident. But don't worry, they didn't suffer. They were killed instantly.
To the people with a white dot under their bottles - Congratulations - You have just won a $50 Taxi voucher, and you won't kill anyone on your drive home tonight.
Finally, I asked people to remember how easy it is to make split second decisions without giving them much thought.
And I asked that next time, when they have to choose, they make their second count.
There was a round of applause that was hesitant, as if people were not sure whether they should be clapping or not, then without me even realising what was happening, people started emptying their beers.
They tipped them down sinks behind the bar, over the veranda, down drains and gutters and into toilets.
As I watched the people around me emptying their drinks, I felt as though all of the emotions that had been bottled up in order to put together and present the installation were being released. I exhaled, for what felt like the first time in weeks, and just like that, it was all gone.
When the last bottle was emptied another round of applause erupted in the bar, and this time it was packed with energy and intent.
***
Tonight, I am absolutely exhausted... But I feel better than I have done in months.
One last thing... To everyone at the bar last night, and to everyone who helped make the installation successful, and to everyone who has put up with me while I've had my head so far up the proverbial backside of this new world -
Cheers!
To making every second count.
Bang Bang - Your Spirit is Eternal
At the park today...
A boy comes running out from behind the slide with his hand aimed at Miss F, gun style, and yells,
"Bang! Bang! You're dead!"
Miss F looks up and replies calmly,
"No, you can't kill me - My spirit is eternal."
Confused, the boy says,
"That's not how you play. You're supposed to run away or I'll shoot you."
Miss F stands tall, and from the same calm space, she replies once more,
"I'm not scared of you. And I'm not scared of dieing."
A boy comes running out from behind the slide with his hand aimed at Miss F, gun style, and yells,
"Bang! Bang! You're dead!"
Miss F looks up and replies calmly,
"No, you can't kill me - My spirit is eternal."
Confused, the boy says,
"That's not how you play. You're supposed to run away or I'll shoot you."
Miss F stands tall, and from the same calm space, she replies once more,
"I'm not scared of you. And I'm not scared of dieing."
For most of the girls' lives, Daddy Kewl has been with us only 'in spirit'. To us, this means that even though we talk to him often, we feel him close to us and we look out for signs from him, telling us the he loves us and he is here - He will only ever be here in spirit, because he died, and that means that he doesn't have a body any more.
Last year the girls' surrogate baby brother died, too, and even though we talk to him, feel him close to us, and look out for signs from him telling us that he loves us and he is here - He will only ever be here in spirit, just like Daddy Kewl.
Having two people very close to them 'in spirit' has effected the Kewl girls. There are many ways to think about this, depending on your beliefes, but I believe it has heightened their sense of spiritual 'connectedness'.
Sometimes this is hard and confusing, and it causes them deep pain. These are the times when I wish that the girls didn't have so much death in their life experience. I wish that they didn't have to be so aware or have such a developed understanding of what 'in spirit' means (to us). It's also at these times when I start to question whether or not I am doing the right thing by explaining my beliefes to them. Sometimes I even start to wonder whether they would be better off believing that when you're dead, you're dead. That's it. Lights out. All over.
Then there are the times, like today, that tell me we are on the right track. Times when I feel reassured and in a sense relieved, that I am doing the right thing. Times when I think that we are incredibly blessed to have the spiritual knowledge, understanding and life experience that we do. After all, we have some pretty magical moments thanks to our connections 'in spirit' - and even though it's not the same as sharing our lives with the living, breathing, physical beings that we miss so dearly - it is far, far better than not sharing anything at all.
Today has reminded me to trust myself a little more - to keep following what feels right and trust that I know what is right for my girls, too.
It has also made me quietly proud that in all the trauma and heart ache of Daddy Kewl and Baby Warrior dieing - Miss F stands tall - Calm and unafraid, with the knowledge that her spirit is eternal.
WELCOME TO OUR WORLD
The Kewl girls and I met some friends at the park today. Our friends are a lot like us - half hippies - because we're not quite normal and not quite feral! We are also both one parent families, home schoolers and advocates for "person first" thinking and living. Particularly relevant to this story is one other commonality... We are both big believers in the power of thought (part law of attraction, part positive thinking, part create your own reality, etc). These beliefs, I think, translate not just to a way of thinking, but more importantly, to a way of living. They also influence the way I parent and the thoughts, both conscious and otherwise, that I try to encourage in my girls.
Today at the park, the Kewl girls and their half hippie friends were playing with a ball and their half hippie mum and I were sitting on a bench not too far away. Another child, about 4 or 5, came over and joined in the ball game. Almost instantly it became obvious that this child did not have fabulous social skills. She did not quite grasp the concept of it being a group game, of passing the ball to others, of taking turns, or of anything much that would make our group of half hippie children want to continue playing with her. Sadly, after no more than 5 minutes, Miss J made an executive decision and said to the other child, "We feel annoyed when you keep hogging the ball because we all want a turn too and you won't share, so we don't want to play with you anymore."
Miss J then went and picked up the ball and began to walk away.
Now, I had been watching this scenario unfold and was tossing up whether I should intervene or not...
Did I need to encourage Miss J to share the ball and not exclude the child who was not part of 'her' group just because she wasn't behaving the way Miss J wanted her to?
On the other hand, Miss J had communicated very clearly why she did not want to play anymore and she had an excellent point - the other child was not sharing at all. Was it right to tell Miss J to share when the other child clearly was not?
I had pretty much decided to let it go for now and in 5 minutes or so, suggest to Miss J that she ask the other girl if she wanted to join in again.
Then the other girl ran up behind Miss J and shoved her in the back. Hard.
Uh oh.
As I was still making my way over, the other girl's mum arrived on the scene. She smacked her child on the hand and told her she was naughty for pushing Miss J over. Then when the child argued that Miss J wasn't playing with her or sharing her ball, her mum said to Miss J, "Well, you should share your toys, you know."
Miss J replied, "But I don't want to."
To which the other mum said, "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. It's called the real world, honey."
Immediately, Miss J responded with, "The real world is for people who can't imagine anything better." Then she picked up her ball and walked away.
To repeat - Uh oh.
As the other mum turned to me with a most outraged expression, my immediate reaction was to jump up and down and cheer Miss J for daring to imagine something better. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I am only half hippie so I restrained myself and was faced with a dilemma...
Should I call Miss J back and explain to her that the words she had chosen could potentially hurt other people's feelings and ask her to think of some different words?
Should I explain to the other mum that Miss J had tried to share but her and her daughter just seemed to clash?
Should I offer an apology, shrug my shoulders and walk away?
I was about to settle on a fairly non committal "Kids, hey." with a sincere smile, and hope for the best, but the other mum got in before me.
"You shouldn't let your children talk to other people like that," she said.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Don't you think she was rude?" *Insert accusatory point of finger*
Me, "Actually, I think she was upset after having someone hog her ball and push her in the back."
Other mum, "Well if you want your child to think she can walk away from anything she doesn't like that's your prerogative."
Me, "Yes it is."
Then I went to walk away and the woman shot after me, "Oh - I see where she gets it from. This is your solution is it? Walking away?"
Before I could stop myself, I replied, "Absolutely... I believe it's called, welcome to our world."
I wish I could say I didn't mean it... But you know what? I really did. Not the being offensive part - it was not my intention at all to pick a fight or attack another person. Nor is it my intention with this post to point the accusatory finger or criticise the other person.
What I would really like to do is ask you, what would you have done?
I still believe that I am part hippie, and that this also means I have not lost touch with more conventional ways of thinking. Essentially, I know I think a little differently to some, but I don't think I'm an ignorant hippie... Am I?
Would you have made your child share if they picked up their ball and went to walk away, as Miss J did?
Would you have made your child apologise if they said, "The real world is for people who can't imagine anything better," in response to another adult?
Would you have walked away from the other parent, as I did?
I would love to know - what would you have done?
Today at the park, the Kewl girls and their half hippie friends were playing with a ball and their half hippie mum and I were sitting on a bench not too far away. Another child, about 4 or 5, came over and joined in the ball game. Almost instantly it became obvious that this child did not have fabulous social skills. She did not quite grasp the concept of it being a group game, of passing the ball to others, of taking turns, or of anything much that would make our group of half hippie children want to continue playing with her. Sadly, after no more than 5 minutes, Miss J made an executive decision and said to the other child, "We feel annoyed when you keep hogging the ball because we all want a turn too and you won't share, so we don't want to play with you anymore."
Miss J then went and picked up the ball and began to walk away.
Now, I had been watching this scenario unfold and was tossing up whether I should intervene or not...
Did I need to encourage Miss J to share the ball and not exclude the child who was not part of 'her' group just because she wasn't behaving the way Miss J wanted her to?
On the other hand, Miss J had communicated very clearly why she did not want to play anymore and she had an excellent point - the other child was not sharing at all. Was it right to tell Miss J to share when the other child clearly was not?
I had pretty much decided to let it go for now and in 5 minutes or so, suggest to Miss J that she ask the other girl if she wanted to join in again.
Then the other girl ran up behind Miss J and shoved her in the back. Hard.
Uh oh.
As I was still making my way over, the other girl's mum arrived on the scene. She smacked her child on the hand and told her she was naughty for pushing Miss J over. Then when the child argued that Miss J wasn't playing with her or sharing her ball, her mum said to Miss J, "Well, you should share your toys, you know."
Miss J replied, "But I don't want to."
To which the other mum said, "Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to do. It's called the real world, honey."
Immediately, Miss J responded with, "The real world is for people who can't imagine anything better." Then she picked up her ball and walked away.
To repeat - Uh oh.
As the other mum turned to me with a most outraged expression, my immediate reaction was to jump up and down and cheer Miss J for daring to imagine something better. Fortunately (or unfortunately), I am only half hippie so I restrained myself and was faced with a dilemma...
Should I call Miss J back and explain to her that the words she had chosen could potentially hurt other people's feelings and ask her to think of some different words?
Should I explain to the other mum that Miss J had tried to share but her and her daughter just seemed to clash?
Should I offer an apology, shrug my shoulders and walk away?
I was about to settle on a fairly non committal "Kids, hey." with a sincere smile, and hope for the best, but the other mum got in before me.
"You shouldn't let your children talk to other people like that," she said.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Don't you think she was rude?" *Insert accusatory point of finger*
Me, "Actually, I think she was upset after having someone hog her ball and push her in the back."
Other mum, "Well if you want your child to think she can walk away from anything she doesn't like that's your prerogative."
Me, "Yes it is."
Then I went to walk away and the woman shot after me, "Oh - I see where she gets it from. This is your solution is it? Walking away?"
Before I could stop myself, I replied, "Absolutely... I believe it's called, welcome to our world."
I wish I could say I didn't mean it... But you know what? I really did. Not the being offensive part - it was not my intention at all to pick a fight or attack another person. Nor is it my intention with this post to point the accusatory finger or criticise the other person.
What I would really like to do is ask you, what would you have done?
I still believe that I am part hippie, and that this also means I have not lost touch with more conventional ways of thinking. Essentially, I know I think a little differently to some, but I don't think I'm an ignorant hippie... Am I?
Would you have made your child share if they picked up their ball and went to walk away, as Miss J did?
Would you have made your child apologise if they said, "The real world is for people who can't imagine anything better," in response to another adult?
Would you have walked away from the other parent, as I did?
I would love to know - what would you have done?
Pip... RAY!
Happy Birthday Daddy Kewl.
We love you.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am in the softly falling snow.
I am in the gentle showers of rain,
I am in the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the gentle rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am in the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
~Mary Elizabeth Frye
We love you.
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am in the softly falling snow.
I am in the gentle showers of rain,
I am in the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the gentle rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am in the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.
~Mary Elizabeth Frye
Freaky Home Learner's Enriching Activity
Miss J, "Mum, I'm bored."
Me, "Pardon?"
Miss J, "I'm bored."
Me, "Sorry?"
Miss J, "I'm bored, mum."
Me, "Say that again? I don't understand you?"
Miss J, "Mum! I'm! BORED!"
Me, (Squinting at her)..... "But you don't look like a board....." (Taking her hand and shaking it so her whole arm wobbles) "And you don't feel like a board...." (Licking the side of her face) "Yuck, you certainly don't taste like a board....."
Miss J, "No mum, that's not what I mean!"
Me, "Oh! Well what do you mean?"
Miss J, "I mean my mind is becoming restless from lack of stimulation and I would like an enriching activity to focus my thoughts on before I lose all ability to concentrate and my body becomes too fatigued to embrace any action!"
Me, "Oh. I see. Um, how old are you again?"
Miss J, *Sigh* "I'm four and 3 twelfths, mum."
Me, "Right. Just checking. So an enriching activity to focus your thoughts on, hey?"
Miss J, "Yep..."
Me, "Well, we could go for a walk and see how many fairies we can spot.... Or we could go take some photos.... Or we could...."
Miss J, "Oooh! Oooh! I know!!!!!! We can go pick our noses and feed it to the dog!"
Me, "....... Umm...... You go, I'll keep thinking."
Me, "Pardon?"
Miss J, "I'm bored."
Me, "Sorry?"
Miss J, "I'm bored, mum."
Me, "Say that again? I don't understand you?"
Miss J, "Mum! I'm! BORED!"
Me, (Squinting at her)..... "But you don't look like a board....." (Taking her hand and shaking it so her whole arm wobbles) "And you don't feel like a board...." (Licking the side of her face) "Yuck, you certainly don't taste like a board....."
Miss J, "No mum, that's not what I mean!"
Me, "Oh! Well what do you mean?"
Miss J, "I mean my mind is becoming restless from lack of stimulation and I would like an enriching activity to focus my thoughts on before I lose all ability to concentrate and my body becomes too fatigued to embrace any action!"
Me, "Oh. I see. Um, how old are you again?"
Miss J, *Sigh* "I'm four and 3 twelfths, mum."
Me, "Right. Just checking. So an enriching activity to focus your thoughts on, hey?"
Miss J, "Yep..."
Me, "Well, we could go for a walk and see how many fairies we can spot.... Or we could go take some photos.... Or we could...."
Miss J, "Oooh! Oooh! I know!!!!!! We can go pick our noses and feed it to the dog!"
Me, "....... Umm...... You go, I'll keep thinking."
I have the best friends in the world!
Megan from Imaginif did a post today about gratitude. It got me thinking about the things I am most grateful for at the moment, and after a while I realised that every single thing is made even sweeter by the people I can share or experience them with.
I am grateful that I have the best friends in the world!
I have friends who don't make me feel bad for those bad days that didn't include a shower.... Because they smell worse than I do.
I have friends who aren't afraid of my leaking boobs.... They just call me a cow and throw me a towel.
I have friends who aren't afraid of my pain.... Even when I am.
Friends who answer their phone to me - who let me cry and sob and vomit grief everywhere, and who hang up for me when the phone is stuck to my ear and I am terrified of being disconnected from them.... Friends who will do this today and still answer the phone again tomorrow.
Friends who listen when I tell them I feel as if I am drowning - who will then push me backwards, without warning, into an icy cold swimming pool... To prove that I will not go under forever.
And friends who jump into the icy cold water with me.
I have internet friends, who are just as magnificent as the freaks this side of the screen.
Friends who's thoughts and well wishes transcend the words of an email, a comment or blog post.
Friends who care enough to give virtual hugs.
Friends who find the time to comment or email, even when the time (and the words) are difficult to come by.
Friends who offer support, encouragement and understanding, even when it must certainly poke and prod at their own grief.
Friends who allow me to share what I need to share, feel what I need to feel and blog what I need to blog - And who still drop by to read, even when it's not all warm and fuzzy.
Friends who ignite a little of Baby Warrior's light, just by reading about his moments and believing in his love.
To my friends,
Real life, internet, or otherwise,
Thank you!
You are the best friends in the world, and I am so very grateful that you are all part of my life experience.
I am grateful that I have the best friends in the world!
I have friends who don't make me feel bad for those bad days that didn't include a shower.... Because they smell worse than I do.
I have friends who aren't afraid of my leaking boobs.... They just call me a cow and throw me a towel.
I have friends who aren't afraid of my pain.... Even when I am.
Friends who answer their phone to me - who let me cry and sob and vomit grief everywhere, and who hang up for me when the phone is stuck to my ear and I am terrified of being disconnected from them.... Friends who will do this today and still answer the phone again tomorrow.
Friends who listen when I tell them I feel as if I am drowning - who will then push me backwards, without warning, into an icy cold swimming pool... To prove that I will not go under forever.
And friends who jump into the icy cold water with me.
I have internet friends, who are just as magnificent as the freaks this side of the screen.
Friends who's thoughts and well wishes transcend the words of an email, a comment or blog post.
Friends who care enough to give virtual hugs.
Friends who find the time to comment or email, even when the time (and the words) are difficult to come by.
Friends who offer support, encouragement and understanding, even when it must certainly poke and prod at their own grief.
Friends who allow me to share what I need to share, feel what I need to feel and blog what I need to blog - And who still drop by to read, even when it's not all warm and fuzzy.
Friends who ignite a little of Baby Warrior's light, just by reading about his moments and believing in his love.
To my friends,
Real life, internet, or otherwise,
Thank you!
You are the best friends in the world, and I am so very grateful that you are all part of my life experience.
Time and Energy
First off - Thank you for all of the kewl thoughts that were sent our way! They were greatly appreciated!
We are back and we are doing well, though energy levels are still somewhat low.
Life is needing most of my attention at the moment and I'm sorry that posting and blog visiting has been just that little bit out of my reach.
Things might remain quite for a little longer, because....
Next week our home is being invaded by circus freaks from all over Australia (and some from overseas, too)!! We are having a catch up / reunion and for some of us it has been almost 10 years since we last got to play!!
It is very, very exciting and I am even looking forward to having 30+ people camping out in my backyard and fighting over the bathroom. (Man, we really are freaks!)
Thank you again for your kewl thoughts... I hope everyone out here in the bloggoshpere (Jeanie, is that a word?) is well and I can't wait to catch up as soon as time and energy are willing.
We are back and we are doing well, though energy levels are still somewhat low.
Life is needing most of my attention at the moment and I'm sorry that posting and blog visiting has been just that little bit out of my reach.
Things might remain quite for a little longer, because....
Next week our home is being invaded by circus freaks from all over Australia (and some from overseas, too)!! We are having a catch up / reunion and for some of us it has been almost 10 years since we last got to play!!
It is very, very exciting and I am even looking forward to having 30+ people camping out in my backyard and fighting over the bathroom. (Man, we really are freaks!)
Thank you again for your kewl thoughts... I hope everyone out here in the bloggoshpere (Jeanie, is that a word?) is well and I can't wait to catch up as soon as time and energy are willing.
Introspection
Below is a lecture given by Dr. Randy Pausch when he appeared on Oprah.
The full version can also be viewed on YouTube and it is a little over an hour long.
This version is just 10 minutes, though really, it can last a lifetime.
I wrote a whole lot of introspective ramblings here, clicked publish, then changed my mind.
LOL
Suffice to say, for the next few weeks I will be attempting to answer a question that has been burning ever since I saw this lecture.
If M had know he was going to die, what would he have said in his 'last lecture'?
The full version can also be viewed on YouTube and it is a little over an hour long.
This version is just 10 minutes, though really, it can last a lifetime.
I wrote a whole lot of introspective ramblings here, clicked publish, then changed my mind.
LOL
Suffice to say, for the next few weeks I will be attempting to answer a question that has been burning ever since I saw this lecture.
If M had know he was going to die, what would he have said in his 'last lecture'?
Things are lookin' up
I ran away from home today. The kewl girls spent the day with their god parents and I took my horse to the beach so we could run away together.
This week has been tough. First we had the daycare incident, then M's birthday and then a nasty encounter with an in-law. As the week drew to a close, the bands of grief squeezing my chest were so tight I'd forgotten what real breathing felt like. This morning when god mother M offered to take the girls for the day it was all I could do to nod in agreement.
Having the three kewl girls around, disappearing into my own little world isn't an option. With them taken care of though, I let my thoughts carry me away and my body run on auto pilot. I loaded my horse into the float and drove up to the beach. When we reached the sand, there was no stopping us. We ran really fast for two whole hours, and then we turned around and ran home even faster. It was exactly what I needed.
By the time we slowed down near the end of our journey, I was breathing deeply again. No more tight bands around my chest, no more run away thoughts - I'd returned to the 'now'. I stopped to properly take in my surroundings and realised what a spectacular day it was.
As the remnants of the past week fell away, the negativity and the stress and bitterness left me, too. I thought about all the blessings in my life and for the first time in over a week I felt truly grateful. Not just a token "Gee aren't I lucky...", but a whole body, "WOW! How fucking fantastic is it to be living this life!"
We returned to the car with a spring in our step, even after our 4 hour get away. I felt M with me, and instead of this making me ache for his physical presence like I have this past week, I felt warm and comfortable and secure in his love. I was reminded of when M and I used to spend little moments together gazing up at the sky. This was our 'thing'. It started as a mutual habit and grew into a magical connection between the two of us. Even when life got crazy we would sneak away when we could, heading outside somewhere so we could gaze skywards for a while. When we felt our little escape time coming to an end (usually when a child started screaming), M would always say, "Things are lookin' up, Al".
I was thinking of these moments today as I looked up at the sky. In the middle of the day, with the sun shining brightly and not a cloud to be seen, I saw a park light flicker. I gazed at it for a little longer, daring M to do it again.
He did. The light came on and stayed on until I drove out of the park.
Thanks everyone, for the supportive comments and well wishes this week. Sometimes when the going is tough and seemingly beyond my control, all you can do is go with it and 'ride' it out. Thankfully those times don't last long around here, and I have to say that after today - things are lookin' up.
This week has been tough. First we had the daycare incident, then M's birthday and then a nasty encounter with an in-law. As the week drew to a close, the bands of grief squeezing my chest were so tight I'd forgotten what real breathing felt like. This morning when god mother M offered to take the girls for the day it was all I could do to nod in agreement.
Having the three kewl girls around, disappearing into my own little world isn't an option. With them taken care of though, I let my thoughts carry me away and my body run on auto pilot. I loaded my horse into the float and drove up to the beach. When we reached the sand, there was no stopping us. We ran really fast for two whole hours, and then we turned around and ran home even faster. It was exactly what I needed.
By the time we slowed down near the end of our journey, I was breathing deeply again. No more tight bands around my chest, no more run away thoughts - I'd returned to the 'now'. I stopped to properly take in my surroundings and realised what a spectacular day it was.
As the remnants of the past week fell away, the negativity and the stress and bitterness left me, too. I thought about all the blessings in my life and for the first time in over a week I felt truly grateful. Not just a token "Gee aren't I lucky...", but a whole body, "WOW! How fucking fantastic is it to be living this life!"We returned to the car with a spring in our step, even after our 4 hour get away. I felt M with me, and instead of this making me ache for his physical presence like I have this past week, I felt warm and comfortable and secure in his love. I was reminded of when M and I used to spend little moments together gazing up at the sky. This was our 'thing'. It started as a mutual habit and grew into a magical connection between the two of us. Even when life got crazy we would sneak away when we could, heading outside somewhere so we could gaze skywards for a while. When we felt our little escape time coming to an end (usually when a child started screaming), M would always say, "Things are lookin' up, Al".
I was thinking of these moments today as I looked up at the sky. In the middle of the day, with the sun shining brightly and not a cloud to be seen, I saw a park light flicker. I gazed at it for a little longer, daring M to do it again.
He did. The light came on and stayed on until I drove out of the park.
Thanks everyone, for the supportive comments and well wishes this week. Sometimes when the going is tough and seemingly beyond my control, all you can do is go with it and 'ride' it out. Thankfully those times don't last long around here, and I have to say that after today - things are lookin' up.
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