I have had one of those days.
TJ had 2 friends for a sleep over for his birthday last night (they were picked up at 10am) so he had a late night and is tired and cranky today. Understandably, he's wanted some space to chill out and play with his new toys, only instead of taking his space in any of the 3 or 4 places where the other kids won't bother him, he's been playing with his new things on the floor of his bedroom - which he shares with Mr R - and getting annoyed and aggressive when Mr R comes in and wrecks whatever he's doing. I gave him 30 minutes where he was allowed to shut the door and lock Mr R out - for which Mr R screamed indignantly the whole time - then he had to open the door again and instead of moving, he stayed on the floor and got even more angry when Mr R returned with a vengeance.
I eventually had to give him a time out because he pulled Mr R's legs off and threw them in the rubbish bin!!
The girls have turned into obnoxious little teenage monsters and are picking on each other like there's no tomorrow. Miss J said to her twin, "I am sad when I look in the mirror because I see you and you are ugly!"
Miss F retorted with, "At least you're not sad like me because I have your brain and it's stupid!"
Then they each retaliated by sneaking scissors from the other's home learning desk and cutting strips in their twin's favourite dress, before each trying to blame it on the other when they were discovered!!! When I told them they were to do their best to repair the damage in the other's clothes, Miss F said, "Fine. And I will turn it into a dog jumper because she is a dog!"
And Miss J came back with, "Fine! And I will turn it into toilet paper because you smell like POO!!!"
Miss V is annoyed because her siblings won't do what she says 100% of the time and she ends up screaming red faced at anything that moves. She landed herself a time out when she told me my vagina was stupid because it suffocated the intelligence out of her sisters...
I told her that she too, came out of my vagina.
She rolled her eyes at me and said, "Yeah, well OBVIOUSLY it was already STRETCHED by then!" ... Hence the time out!
She scored herself another one when she hid a piece of TJ's new jigsaw puzzle while he wasn't looking, causing him to meltdown AGAIN when he had finished his jigsaw except for one last piece that he couldn't find, and why did Miss V think that was so funny? (Because she is a little monster, TJ, that's why!)
In between all this Mr R has been doing his best dog impression and peeing on the floor all bloody day just to get a reaction
And possibly worst of all - the dirty lesbians used my dishwasher to clean their sex toys!!!
AARRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Teddy Tour
Some of you fabulous readers may remember from this post, that I am a survivor of childhood sexual assault. It is something that has shaped my life in many ways, and thankfully, it has turned into an experience that I was able to take something positive from in the form of educating my children and empowering them with self protection knowledge and skills.
Even though it is an experience that I have come to terms with and no longer feel uncomfortable about discussing, the topic of childhood sexual assault in the wider community is still one of those things in the "don't go there" basket. It seems that for a lot of people, the thought of children being sexually assaulted is far to awful to even contemplate, let alone actually speaking about it... And I agree that childhood sexual assault is an awful, gut wrenching, unthinkable crime against children... But NOT speaking about it only gives power to the perpetrators and adds to the feelings of shame and guilt that so many survivors experience, even though it is not their fault, and they have nothing to be ashamed of.
A very good friend of mine, Megan from Imaginif, used to run a website called the Teddy Tour, where survivors could submit a tag anonymously that would be given to a Teddy who would wear it for the whole world to see. This website harnessed the voice of many, many survivors from all over the world and was as confronting as it was inspiring. Unfortunately, due to Megan's real world commitment to protecting children, she was unable to keep up with the online Teddy Tour and the website was closed down.
Last week, I received an email from a friend, who is just as crazy and just as passionate about ending the silence surrounding childhood sexual assault as I am... And I was thrilled to see that she has taken over the Teddy Tour!!! She has built a new website which looks absolutely fantastic, and started a new Tour as the previous content was lost when the old site was closed.
If you haven't already, please head on over to the Teddy Tour .com and support this fantastic project. Like Ali says,
"Yes, childhood sexual assault is an awful crime against children, but these stories are important and they deserve to be heard."
Even though it is an experience that I have come to terms with and no longer feel uncomfortable about discussing, the topic of childhood sexual assault in the wider community is still one of those things in the "don't go there" basket. It seems that for a lot of people, the thought of children being sexually assaulted is far to awful to even contemplate, let alone actually speaking about it... And I agree that childhood sexual assault is an awful, gut wrenching, unthinkable crime against children... But NOT speaking about it only gives power to the perpetrators and adds to the feelings of shame and guilt that so many survivors experience, even though it is not their fault, and they have nothing to be ashamed of.
A very good friend of mine, Megan from Imaginif, used to run a website called the Teddy Tour, where survivors could submit a tag anonymously that would be given to a Teddy who would wear it for the whole world to see. This website harnessed the voice of many, many survivors from all over the world and was as confronting as it was inspiring. Unfortunately, due to Megan's real world commitment to protecting children, she was unable to keep up with the online Teddy Tour and the website was closed down.Last week, I received an email from a friend, who is just as crazy and just as passionate about ending the silence surrounding childhood sexual assault as I am... And I was thrilled to see that she has taken over the Teddy Tour!!! She has built a new website which looks absolutely fantastic, and started a new Tour as the previous content was lost when the old site was closed.
If you haven't already, please head on over to the Teddy Tour .com and support this fantastic project. Like Ali says,
"Yes, childhood sexual assault is an awful crime against children, but these stories are important and they deserve to be heard."
Getting Dirty
When you're a kid on the road with a whole bunch of Freaks, sometimes, things can get a little dirty.
Like when one of the boy freaks listens to his wife freak giving him directions and they get really really lost and end up on a dirt road and arrive 3 hours late... So he writes this on the back of their car...
And especially when you are busting for a pee but there are no toilets for ages and you have to go on the side of the road and it's all dirty and yuck... But you do get pretty good at peeing away from your undies, knowing where to stand so you're up stream, and the view from the loo is pretty awesome...
Posted by Miss J, Miss F, Miss V and TJ!
Like when one of the boy freaks listens to his wife freak giving him directions and they get really really lost and end up on a dirt road and arrive 3 hours late... So he writes this on the back of their car...
And especially when you are busting for a pee but there are no toilets for ages and you have to go on the side of the road and it's all dirty and yuck... But you do get pretty good at peeing away from your undies, knowing where to stand so you're up stream, and the view from the loo is pretty awesome...
Posted by Miss J, Miss F, Miss V and TJ!
"Mummy, I'm pregnant......."
"April fools!!!!!"
And now that I have your attention...
My name is Alison, and I am a bad blogger.
I used to love this blog so much and felt like I was missing out on something really important if I did not get to sit down with it almost daily. The online community I felt part of was like a second family that I'd come to rely on. I've shared so much of my self, of this family and of our journey here - and gained so much support from so many wonderful people I have the privilege to call friends.
These last few months, "real" life has picked us up and swept us away like a big, exciting tidal wave, and I feel guilty for leaving the blog behind.
But I'm also excited - SO very excited - about the wave of change and new adventures we are riding...
The Kewl Krew are running away to join the circus!
Actually, we are running away to run the circus.... Kind of...
It's a long story, but here it is in a nutshell:
When Daddy Kewl and I were in the circus, the Head Honcho dude was a guy known as everyone's "Favourite Uncle". He ran the circus then, and when it eventually disbanded, he kept the hundreds upon hundreds of circus freaks and carni folk connected by what we called "Cirque" (pretty original name we came up with for a bunch of so called "creative" people, huh?).
Cirque Head Quarters (HQ) were based in Sydney, with connections to people all over Australia and eventually branching out into the world. The HQ itself grew in size and capacity, and the Cirque network gradually expanded to include all kinds of people working in the creative industries.
In 2008, a whole bunch of Cirque people came to our home for the Freak Fest. While they were here, I was pregnant with Zy, he was diagnosed with Cri-du-chat syndrome, he was born very prematurely, and he died. It was a massive time for our family, and I am so very thankful that our Freak Family were here to help us through it.
Not long after Zy died, there was a big falling out between some of the Freaks. Quite honestly, myself, Sammi and "Favourite Uncle" were at the centre of it. "Favourite Uncle" did something unforgivable and showed himself as an incestuous, controlling, manipulative man, and in standing up to him I caused a massive rift between a handful of people who were aware of the full details, and the rest of the Cirque community.
In response, "Favourite Uncle" did what any incestuous, controlling, manipulative, slime ball of a man with no spine would do when confronted with his dishonesty - He slandered me to absolutely everyone who would listen, and he drank himself to death.
It was only then that the full story began to come out, and the Cirque community came together once more to grieve the loss of the Favourite Uncle we thought we knew, and to heal the wounds he had caused.
Er... Believe it or not, this really is the condensed version...! Bare with me, I'm almost there!
A few weeks ago, a mob of Cirque freaks showed up at our place for a spontaneous get together. We decided to go to the Fringe Festival in Adelaide to support another freak, and while we were there, the Freaks became aware of some interesting information.
When "Favourite Uncle" died, he left me Cirque.
Everything is now in my name.
And it seems that many people are keen for me to take over.
So may people, in fact, that I have decided to accept.
Yep.... The Kewl Krew are running away to Sydney, to run Cirque.
In the end, it was Miss V who talked me into it when she said,
"We are the weirdest people at home without even trying. I want to go be around people who are MORE weird than me. Then I could be even weirder!"
And now that I have your attention...
My name is Alison, and I am a bad blogger.
I used to love this blog so much and felt like I was missing out on something really important if I did not get to sit down with it almost daily. The online community I felt part of was like a second family that I'd come to rely on. I've shared so much of my self, of this family and of our journey here - and gained so much support from so many wonderful people I have the privilege to call friends.
These last few months, "real" life has picked us up and swept us away like a big, exciting tidal wave, and I feel guilty for leaving the blog behind.
But I'm also excited - SO very excited - about the wave of change and new adventures we are riding...
The Kewl Krew are running away to join the circus!
Actually, we are running away to run the circus.... Kind of...
It's a long story, but here it is in a nutshell:
When Daddy Kewl and I were in the circus, the Head Honcho dude was a guy known as everyone's "Favourite Uncle". He ran the circus then, and when it eventually disbanded, he kept the hundreds upon hundreds of circus freaks and carni folk connected by what we called "Cirque" (pretty original name we came up with for a bunch of so called "creative" people, huh?).
Cirque Head Quarters (HQ) were based in Sydney, with connections to people all over Australia and eventually branching out into the world. The HQ itself grew in size and capacity, and the Cirque network gradually expanded to include all kinds of people working in the creative industries.
In 2008, a whole bunch of Cirque people came to our home for the Freak Fest. While they were here, I was pregnant with Zy, he was diagnosed with Cri-du-chat syndrome, he was born very prematurely, and he died. It was a massive time for our family, and I am so very thankful that our Freak Family were here to help us through it.
Not long after Zy died, there was a big falling out between some of the Freaks. Quite honestly, myself, Sammi and "Favourite Uncle" were at the centre of it. "Favourite Uncle" did something unforgivable and showed himself as an incestuous, controlling, manipulative man, and in standing up to him I caused a massive rift between a handful of people who were aware of the full details, and the rest of the Cirque community.
In response, "Favourite Uncle" did what any incestuous, controlling, manipulative, slime ball of a man with no spine would do when confronted with his dishonesty - He slandered me to absolutely everyone who would listen, and he drank himself to death.
It was only then that the full story began to come out, and the Cirque community came together once more to grieve the loss of the Favourite Uncle we thought we knew, and to heal the wounds he had caused.
Er... Believe it or not, this really is the condensed version...! Bare with me, I'm almost there!
A few weeks ago, a mob of Cirque freaks showed up at our place for a spontaneous get together. We decided to go to the Fringe Festival in Adelaide to support another freak, and while we were there, the Freaks became aware of some interesting information.
When "Favourite Uncle" died, he left me Cirque.
Everything is now in my name.
And it seems that many people are keen for me to take over.
So may people, in fact, that I have decided to accept.
Yep.... The Kewl Krew are running away to Sydney, to run Cirque.
In the end, it was Miss V who talked me into it when she said,
"We are the weirdest people at home without even trying. I want to go be around people who are MORE weird than me. Then I could be even weirder!"
A Very Kewl Announcement!
Miss J, "Well, it pretty much happens like this..."
Miss F, "Sammi and Mary had sexual intercourse with a turkey baster..."
Miss V, "Even though Mary is a vegan...."
Miss F, "Yeah and Sammi is really bad at cooking...."
Miss J, "But they did good!"
Miss V, "Yeah!"
Miss F, "And now Mary is growing their baby!"
Miss J, "Ah ha. And it is going to come out of her vagina..."
Miss V, "And her vagina will never be the same again."
Miss F, "Umm.. It probably should say that their lives will never be the same again... But that's true too..."
Miss F, "Sammi and Mary had sexual intercourse with a turkey baster..."
Miss V, "Even though Mary is a vegan...."
Miss F, "Yeah and Sammi is really bad at cooking...."
Miss J, "But they did good!"
Miss V, "Yeah!"
Miss F, "And now Mary is growing their baby!"
Miss J, "Ah ha. And it is going to come out of her vagina..."
Miss V, "And her vagina will never be the same again."
Miss F, "Umm.. It probably should say that their lives will never be the same again... But that's true too..."
It's hard to stay in a bad mood with kids like mine
Even though 83% is on of the most disgusting statistics on sexual assault I have EVER heard,
Even though I am still dumbfounded that meaningful action is, for the most part, non-existent,
And even though it sometimes feels like the battle is just too big to fight,
My bad mood is lifting.
Because you cannot empower others while you are feeling dis-empowered,
Because you cannot inspire action while you are uninspired,
And because you cannot win if you do not fight.
Yesterday the Kewl Kids and I were surveying the property from our veranda. It is pouring rain here at the moment and yesterday the back paddocks had already started to flood. I'd moved those animals that I could to higher ground, and so chaos reigned supreme as goats and Shetland ponies and ducks and dogs became new roomies and kicked up some mud in their new pad. We were having a good laugh at their antics when Miss J spotted the dog getting a little too friendly with the goat. From the other end of the veranda she called out,
"Mu-um! The dog is trying to have sexual intercourse with the goat again!"
I laughed until I cried, and my bad mood began to lift... Not because of the possibility of breeding the first ever puppy goats - but because Miss J had used appropriate language to describe what she was seeing, and in doing so, she reminded me that while I cannot educate everyone - I can certainly educate my children.
My children are empowered with sexuality knowledge and self protection skills.
And that, is Kewl.
Even though I am still dumbfounded that meaningful action is, for the most part, non-existent,
And even though it sometimes feels like the battle is just too big to fight,
My bad mood is lifting.
Because you cannot empower others while you are feeling dis-empowered,
Because you cannot inspire action while you are uninspired,
And because you cannot win if you do not fight.
Yesterday the Kewl Kids and I were surveying the property from our veranda. It is pouring rain here at the moment and yesterday the back paddocks had already started to flood. I'd moved those animals that I could to higher ground, and so chaos reigned supreme as goats and Shetland ponies and ducks and dogs became new roomies and kicked up some mud in their new pad. We were having a good laugh at their antics when Miss J spotted the dog getting a little too friendly with the goat. From the other end of the veranda she called out,
"Mu-um! The dog is trying to have sexual intercourse with the goat again!"
I laughed until I cried, and my bad mood began to lift... Not because of the possibility of breeding the first ever puppy goats - but because Miss J had used appropriate language to describe what she was seeing, and in doing so, she reminded me that while I cannot educate everyone - I can certainly educate my children.
My children are empowered with sexuality knowledge and self protection skills.
And that, is Kewl.
I am in a bad mood
Before my pregnancy with Zy I was running a drama program that included several young adults with disabilities. When I was pregnant with Zy I handed this class over to a friend and colleague. That person has recently been unable to teach, so I have stepped in again, temporarily. As well as the 15 students I know well from the "early days", there are 4 students whom I had not met before. Three of these students require additional support so as to fully participate in class, and that support is provided by someone from a disability service.
Last week, I noticed one of these students displaying slightly inappropriate (sexualised) behaviours towards her support person. This week, the behaviours has escalated to the point where they were impacting upon the class. I spoke with the student and her support person, and to cut a very long story short - the support person had no training as to how to respond to inappropriate behaviours, the student had no sexuality education as to what is and isn't appropriate and the service did not want to know about it. It seemed that the more I tried to talk to the service, the less receptive they were to listening.
I was disheartened by my experience with this service, but surely not all disability service providers in my area are so ignorant when it comes to sexuality education? I called a few other services to ask about their sexuality education programs and/or policies. Not one of them acknowledged sexuality education as something they provide to their clients or staff. Some even laughed at the suggestion that this kind of education is important.
Sexuality education for people with disabilities is something that I used to facilitate (as my job) on a very regular basis, and only stopped because of time constraints. I am utterly devastated that something of such value and importance seems now to be all but non existent. I know used to feel frustrated at the lack of knowledge and understanding service providers, parents and carers had around what sexuality education is and why it is so important - but it was balanced out by the feeling of empowerment I would get from being able to share this information with people.
Now I just feel frustrated.
And I don't get it.
I really do not understand how people can be so ignorant and unwilling to change.
Did you know that 83% of women with a disability will be sexually assaulted in their life time?
Eighty. Three. Percent.
That's more than eight in ten.
I do not understand how people can hear that statistic and not be so disgusted and so outraged that they take action.
I do not understand how people in human services, who's job it is to support and advocate for people, can hear that statistic and not even acknowledge that something has to be done.
Something more.
Something different.
Just something.
So I am in a bad mood, and everything that is wrong with this picture is running around and around in my head.
I feel overwhelmed and dis-empowered and frustrated and angry.
And I have nothing else to offer yet.
When I can turn my thoughts around and find something other than what is wrong with this situation, I'll be sure to post that as well.
But for now, I am in a bad mood.
Last week, I noticed one of these students displaying slightly inappropriate (sexualised) behaviours towards her support person. This week, the behaviours has escalated to the point where they were impacting upon the class. I spoke with the student and her support person, and to cut a very long story short - the support person had no training as to how to respond to inappropriate behaviours, the student had no sexuality education as to what is and isn't appropriate and the service did not want to know about it. It seemed that the more I tried to talk to the service, the less receptive they were to listening.
I was disheartened by my experience with this service, but surely not all disability service providers in my area are so ignorant when it comes to sexuality education? I called a few other services to ask about their sexuality education programs and/or policies. Not one of them acknowledged sexuality education as something they provide to their clients or staff. Some even laughed at the suggestion that this kind of education is important.
Sexuality education for people with disabilities is something that I used to facilitate (as my job) on a very regular basis, and only stopped because of time constraints. I am utterly devastated that something of such value and importance seems now to be all but non existent. I know used to feel frustrated at the lack of knowledge and understanding service providers, parents and carers had around what sexuality education is and why it is so important - but it was balanced out by the feeling of empowerment I would get from being able to share this information with people.
Now I just feel frustrated.
And I don't get it.
I really do not understand how people can be so ignorant and unwilling to change.
Did you know that 83% of women with a disability will be sexually assaulted in their life time?
Eighty. Three. Percent.
That's more than eight in ten.
I do not understand how people can hear that statistic and not be so disgusted and so outraged that they take action.
I do not understand how people in human services, who's job it is to support and advocate for people, can hear that statistic and not even acknowledge that something has to be done.
Something more.
Something different.
Just something.
So I am in a bad mood, and everything that is wrong with this picture is running around and around in my head.
I feel overwhelmed and dis-empowered and frustrated and angry.
And I have nothing else to offer yet.
When I can turn my thoughts around and find something other than what is wrong with this situation, I'll be sure to post that as well.
But for now, I am in a bad mood.
Musical Madness
Miss J decided to write a song about me today. Last time she wrote a song it was about her two "might as well be" brothers - Mr R and TJ. It was stunningly beautiful and made every adult who heard it cry. So when she said she was writing a song about me, to be honest, I had high hopes.
Her brow wrinkled with concentration and she surveyed me with her bright blue eyes. Her head tilted to the left a little and her index finger found her chin in a gesture of thoughtfulness.
"Ummm...."
Yes my darling child? What wondrous words of insight and beauty do you wish to lay upon me?
"Can I stand on the kitchen table? I need a different perspective."
Oh. Sure.
She climbed up ontoher podium the table and fixed her gaze not on me, but instead on the top of the fridge.
Her eyes lit up and a big grin spread across her face as inspiration came to her and words of adoration (ahem) sprang into her mind.
Having attracted the attention of her siblings, Mary Poppins and Aunty Sammi, Miss J's audience gathered and anticipation filled the air.
I was a little taken aback when she announced it would be to the tune of, "On Top of Old Smoky", but you know what, tune isn't really important - it's the thought that really counts...
With a twinkle in her eye, she began...
On top of the freeeeeeeeeeeezer..... Where no one can seeeeeeeeeeeee,
My mum keeps her choooooooooocolaaaaaate...... An addict is sheeeeeeeeee.
Chocolate's her liiiiiiiiiiife liiiiiiiine..... All day and all niiiiiiiiiiiight,
And if her stash ruuuuuuns oooooouuuuuut..... Be prepared for a friiiiiight!
'Cause my mum's quite scaaaaaaaaaary..... As scary can beeeeeeeeee,
When she has no chooooooooocolaaaaaaaaate..... And bad PMT-eeeeeeeee.
So take this fair waaaaaaaarniiiiiiiiing..... From someone who knooooooooows,
Step away from the choooooooocolaaaate..... Before mum explooooooodes!
And if you get caaaaaaught oooooouuuut..... Stealing from her staaaash,
I'd get out of tooooooooooooo-oooooooown...... And never come baaaaaaaack!
Her brow wrinkled with concentration and she surveyed me with her bright blue eyes. Her head tilted to the left a little and her index finger found her chin in a gesture of thoughtfulness.
"Ummm...."
Yes my darling child? What wondrous words of insight and beauty do you wish to lay upon me?
"Can I stand on the kitchen table? I need a different perspective."
Oh. Sure.
She climbed up onto
Her eyes lit up and a big grin spread across her face as inspiration came to her and words of adoration (ahem) sprang into her mind.
Having attracted the attention of her siblings, Mary Poppins and Aunty Sammi, Miss J's audience gathered and anticipation filled the air.
I was a little taken aback when she announced it would be to the tune of, "On Top of Old Smoky", but you know what, tune isn't really important - it's the thought that really counts...
With a twinkle in her eye, she began...
On top of the freeeeeeeeeeeezer..... Where no one can seeeeeeeeeeeee,
My mum keeps her choooooooooocolaaaaaate...... An addict is sheeeeeeeeee.
Chocolate's her liiiiiiiiiiife liiiiiiiine..... All day and all niiiiiiiiiiiight,
And if her stash ruuuuuuns oooooouuuuuut..... Be prepared for a friiiiiight!
'Cause my mum's quite scaaaaaaaaaary..... As scary can beeeeeeeeee,
When she has no chooooooooocolaaaaaaaaate..... And bad PMT-eeeeeeeee.
So take this fair waaaaaaaarniiiiiiiiing..... From someone who knooooooooows,
Step away from the choooooooocolaaaate..... Before mum explooooooodes!
And if you get caaaaaaught oooooouuuut..... Stealing from her staaaash,
I'd get out of tooooooooooooo-oooooooown...... And never come baaaaaaaack!
Sleep ins
4:30am
Miss F, "Mu-um.... If you don't get up now I'm going to stick a knife in the toaster while I try and make breakfast.. Unsupervised."
Me, "We don't have a toaster..."
Miss F, "Then I'll by one off ebay with your credit card while I go on the computer unsupervised."
Me, *Fake snoring*
Miss J, "Fine then. We'll take the lesbians breakfast in bed. And we won't knock."
Me, "I'm up!!!!!!!"
Miss F, "Mu-um.... If you don't get up now I'm going to stick a knife in the toaster while I try and make breakfast.. Unsupervised."
Me, "We don't have a toaster..."
Miss F, "Then I'll by one off ebay with your credit card while I go on the computer unsupervised."
Me, *Fake snoring*
Miss J, "Fine then. We'll take the lesbians breakfast in bed. And we won't knock."
Me, "I'm up!!!!!!!"
When I'm 16...
A conversation I overheard between Miss V, Miss F and a few other kids at the park...
Girl in green: "When I'm 16 my mummy says I can get my ears pierced!"
Girl in yellow: "When I'm 16, I'm allowed to go on a plane by myself!"
Boy in blue: "When I'm 16 I can drive a car!"
Miss V: "When I'm 16, I can join Mensa!"
Which is nothing compared to...
Miss F: "When I'm 16 I'm allowed to have sex."
Girl in green: "When I'm 16 my mummy says I can get my ears pierced!"
Girl in yellow: "When I'm 16, I'm allowed to go on a plane by myself!"
Boy in blue: "When I'm 16 I can drive a car!"
Miss V: "When I'm 16, I can join Mensa!"
Which is nothing compared to...
Miss F: "When I'm 16 I'm allowed to have sex."
Brought to you by the letters T and J
TJ has been with us for almost 5 months now. I adore him, his sense of humour and his good nature, he is the best big brother I could ever have wished for my girls and I am grateful for every moment he is part of our family.
TJ's parents live interstate, and although they have a hard time communicating when it comes to feelings and "stuff", they love him very much.
By TJ's own description his parents are, "as straight as I am weird".
TJ has started writing letters to his parents, because phone conversations don't seem to be a great way for them to communicate.
Yesterday he asked to stop by the post office to send them his letter. He was more excited about sending this letter than any of the letters before. He had a big grin on his face and was almost jumping up and down on the spot while he waited for a stamp. He put his letter into the post box and clapped his hands together a few times, by way of send off.
I assumed that being the end of his first week at school, TJ was just excited about sharing this with his parents.
I assumed wrong.
Last night, after the other kids had gone to bed, TJ came and sat beside me.
"Al, there's something I need to tell you."
Uh - oh.
TJ, "In the letter I sent my parents today... I told them I was gay."
Me, "OK."
TJ, "But I'm not gay."
Me, "Right. That's an interesting thing to tell your parents if you don't think it's true. Why do you think you did that?"
TJ, "Just to see what their reaction would be. It will be big, won't it?"
Me, "I don't know, TJ. It will be a lot for them to process. Do you want them to do all that work processing something about you that might not be true?"
TJ, "Yes. No. I don't know. I want them to think I'm weird like you so I can stay here forever."
Me, "Do you think being gay is weird?"
TJ, "NO! But they do. And if they think I'm too weird they won't want me back."
Me, "I see. TJ, why do you think your parents agreed to let you come and stay here originally?"
TJ, "Because I ran away."
Me, "OK, and why did you run away?"
TJ, "Because I wanted to come stay with you."
Me, "OK. So your parents let you come and stay here, because you wanted to."
TJ, "I guess."
Me, "And when we went down before Christmas and you said you wanted to camp with us and not stay in the house, what did they say?"
TJ, "They said OK."
Me, "Right. So your parents are pretty good at listening to what you want, really, aren't they?"
TJ, "I guess."
Me, "So maybe talking to them about what you want would have been a better way of communicating than telling them something that you thought would get a reaction."
TJ, "Yeah. Probably. [Pause] But telling them I am gay is heaps funner!"
Me, "Is it fun when people lie to you?"
TJ, "No, not really. I shouldn't have lied, should I?"
Me, "It's more important what you choose to do about it now."
TJ, "I could send another letter?"
Me, "Sure. You can send it express post if you like."
TJ, "Yeah! I'll send another letter express post... And I'll say I might be gay, instead!"
Me, *Stifled laughter* "That sounds like a great idea."
TJ's parents live interstate, and although they have a hard time communicating when it comes to feelings and "stuff", they love him very much.
By TJ's own description his parents are, "as straight as I am weird".
TJ has started writing letters to his parents, because phone conversations don't seem to be a great way for them to communicate.
Yesterday he asked to stop by the post office to send them his letter. He was more excited about sending this letter than any of the letters before. He had a big grin on his face and was almost jumping up and down on the spot while he waited for a stamp. He put his letter into the post box and clapped his hands together a few times, by way of send off.
I assumed that being the end of his first week at school, TJ was just excited about sharing this with his parents.
I assumed wrong.
Last night, after the other kids had gone to bed, TJ came and sat beside me.
"Al, there's something I need to tell you."
Uh - oh.
TJ, "In the letter I sent my parents today... I told them I was gay."
Me, "OK."
TJ, "But I'm not gay."
Me, "Right. That's an interesting thing to tell your parents if you don't think it's true. Why do you think you did that?"
TJ, "Just to see what their reaction would be. It will be big, won't it?"
Me, "I don't know, TJ. It will be a lot for them to process. Do you want them to do all that work processing something about you that might not be true?"
TJ, "Yes. No. I don't know. I want them to think I'm weird like you so I can stay here forever."
Me, "Do you think being gay is weird?"
TJ, "NO! But they do. And if they think I'm too weird they won't want me back."
Me, "I see. TJ, why do you think your parents agreed to let you come and stay here originally?"
TJ, "Because I ran away."
Me, "OK, and why did you run away?"
TJ, "Because I wanted to come stay with you."
Me, "OK. So your parents let you come and stay here, because you wanted to."
TJ, "I guess."
Me, "And when we went down before Christmas and you said you wanted to camp with us and not stay in the house, what did they say?"
TJ, "They said OK."
Me, "Right. So your parents are pretty good at listening to what you want, really, aren't they?"
TJ, "I guess."
Me, "So maybe talking to them about what you want would have been a better way of communicating than telling them something that you thought would get a reaction."
TJ, "Yeah. Probably. [Pause] But telling them I am gay is heaps funner!"
Me, "Is it fun when people lie to you?"
TJ, "No, not really. I shouldn't have lied, should I?"
Me, "It's more important what you choose to do about it now."
TJ, "I could send another letter?"
Me, "Sure. You can send it express post if you like."
TJ, "Yeah! I'll send another letter express post... And I'll say I might be gay, instead!"
Me, *Stifled laughter* "That sounds like a great idea."
Miss Thoughtful
Miss V, "Mum? Did you know that the Chinese believe coffee is poisonous to human bodies? Because I just tipped the coffee down the sink. To help you."
Booty Call
8:30pm
Mobile phone rings
Unknown number
Me, ".... Hello..?"
Telemarketer, ".................................................. Hello. Mrs [Insert badly pronounced surname here]?"
Me, "Maybe.... What are you selling....?"
Telemarketer, "Congratulation! (No, that's not a typo, he said congratulation without the s) You have been randomly selected to receive a free anniversary gift from company X [I asked said company to join us for this blog post, sadly, they declined).
Me, "Oooohhh a freebie! My husband will be thrilled when he forgets to buy me something!"
Telemarketer, "You can have an anniversary night to remember with our free sample of [some drug thing that enhances sexual function in men]."
Me, "No way!!! Really?!?!"
Telemarketer, "Yes. Let me tell you a bit about our product. It is all natur...."
Me, "Mate - If you can give my husband a hard on for the night, I will give you a million dollars!"
Telemarketer, "Er... What is his dysfunction?"
Me, "Death."
[Silence]
Me, "What...... Is that a problem?"
Telemarketer, "Umm.. Sorry to bother you..."
[Dial tone]
Honestly... Telemarketers these days have no stamina.
Mobile phone rings
Unknown number
Me, ".... Hello..?"
Telemarketer, ".................................................. Hello. Mrs [Insert badly pronounced surname here]?"
Me, "Maybe.... What are you selling....?"
Telemarketer, "Congratulation! (No, that's not a typo, he said congratulation without the s) You have been randomly selected to receive a free anniversary gift from company X [I asked said company to join us for this blog post, sadly, they declined).
Me, "Oooohhh a freebie! My husband will be thrilled when he forgets to buy me something!"
Telemarketer, "You can have an anniversary night to remember with our free sample of [some drug thing that enhances sexual function in men]."
Me, "No way!!! Really?!?!"
Telemarketer, "Yes. Let me tell you a bit about our product. It is all natur...."
Me, "Mate - If you can give my husband a hard on for the night, I will give you a million dollars!"
Telemarketer, "Er... What is his dysfunction?"
Me, "Death."
[Silence]
Me, "What...... Is that a problem?"
Telemarketer, "Umm.. Sorry to bother you..."
[Dial tone]
Honestly... Telemarketers these days have no stamina.
Thanks Henry
In this family, we're big believers in the power of thought - all that think positive, create your own reality, law of attraction, hippy stuff that makes lots of people roll their eyes and others nod in agreement. Thinking thoughts that are uplifting and empowering is something I try to teach the Kewl Kids, and I always try to pass on beliefs to them that will serve them well and help them to achieve their dreams (as we all do as parents, in our own way).
The Kewl girls are already pretty good at the whole law of attraction thing. A few weeks ago I was reminded of the quote: "Whether you think you can or you think you can't - Either way you are right." from Henry Ford. When I passed this on to the girls we talked about it for a while and they recognised it very quickly as something they could use to their advantage.
"Mummy, I think I can have chocolate cake for dinner - So I am right, hey mum?!"
Yeah. Right.
In my adulterated ignorance I rolled my eyes and told them - nice try - but the saying was not meant to be taken that literally.
Not more than 20 minutes later, Mary Poppins walked in the door with a big chocolate cake for us to share after dinner.
Today Miss J and Miss F took their mind powers to the next level.
We had to go to the big shopping centre and just because I like a challenge, I took the kids with me. My kids are pretty good when it comes to resisting the brightly coloured, cheery sounding, kewl light flashing, perfect kid height, button happy machines filled with al kinds of consumer crap - but even the best kids are not immune.
About 10 meters from the exit, I was almost home free when Miss F spotted something she just HAD towaste her money on try. A big obnoxious machine full of electronic gadgets, from mini watches right up to digital cameras and iphones. Miss F had spied an mp4 player and decided if she raided savings (all $2 worth) she would finally be able to afford the music playing, video displaying gadget she didn't know she wanted until she saw it 30 seconds ago! She had also spied the flashy words that claimed: "EVERYBODY WINS!" and "PRIZE GUARANTEED!"
I tried explain that these machines did not often give away the expensive prizes - that even though "a" prize was guaranteed, this could mean one of the cheap ones and not the one she wanted - but Miss F was not having it.
"Mummy! It's MY money and I think I can have that player!"
So I stopped resisting and got her to close her eyes and picture the player dropping off the hook and falling into the basket at the bottom of the machine, then to see herself reaching in and taking it out, holding it in her hands in front of her.
She opened her eyes, put her coin in the slot and pushed the button.
Then she watched with expecting eyes as her mp4 player dropped off the hook and fell into the basket at the bottom of the machine. She reached in, took it out, held it in her hands in front of her and giggled.
While I was picking my jaw up off the ground, Miss J took $2 from her bag and pointed at the second, and last, mp4 player.
"Mummy, I think I can have one, too."
So we did the same thing - Miss J pictured the player dropping from the hook and falling into the basket, then reaching in, taking it out and holding it in her hands in front of her.
I don't know what the chances are of getting two of the exact same, high value prizes from a novelty machine like that...
But I don't think it matters.
I wonder what Henry Ford would think if he knew he was helping to enable the shopping habit of two 5 year olds...?
The Kewl girls are already pretty good at the whole law of attraction thing. A few weeks ago I was reminded of the quote: "Whether you think you can or you think you can't - Either way you are right." from Henry Ford. When I passed this on to the girls we talked about it for a while and they recognised it very quickly as something they could use to their advantage.
"Mummy, I think I can have chocolate cake for dinner - So I am right, hey mum?!"
Yeah. Right.
In my adulterated ignorance I rolled my eyes and told them - nice try - but the saying was not meant to be taken that literally.
Not more than 20 minutes later, Mary Poppins walked in the door with a big chocolate cake for us to share after dinner.
Today Miss J and Miss F took their mind powers to the next level.
We had to go to the big shopping centre and just because I like a challenge, I took the kids with me. My kids are pretty good when it comes to resisting the brightly coloured, cheery sounding, kewl light flashing, perfect kid height, button happy machines filled with al kinds of consumer crap - but even the best kids are not immune.
About 10 meters from the exit, I was almost home free when Miss F spotted something she just HAD to
I tried explain that these machines did not often give away the expensive prizes - that even though "a" prize was guaranteed, this could mean one of the cheap ones and not the one she wanted - but Miss F was not having it.
"Mummy! It's MY money and I think I can have that player!"
So I stopped resisting and got her to close her eyes and picture the player dropping off the hook and falling into the basket at the bottom of the machine, then to see herself reaching in and taking it out, holding it in her hands in front of her.
She opened her eyes, put her coin in the slot and pushed the button.
Then she watched with expecting eyes as her mp4 player dropped off the hook and fell into the basket at the bottom of the machine. She reached in, took it out, held it in her hands in front of her and giggled.
While I was picking my jaw up off the ground, Miss J took $2 from her bag and pointed at the second, and last, mp4 player.
"Mummy, I think I can have one, too."
So we did the same thing - Miss J pictured the player dropping from the hook and falling into the basket, then reaching in, taking it out and holding it in her hands in front of her.
I don't know what the chances are of getting two of the exact same, high value prizes from a novelty machine like that...
But I don't think it matters.
I wonder what Henry Ford would think if he knew he was helping to enable the shopping habit of two 5 year olds...?
I've forgotten how to talk about my children
I've been wondering for the last couple of weeks, why my blogging inspiration seems to be at an all time low. I have wanted to blog, we're back from our Woodford Christmas and the neighbourhood is full of kids on holidays willing to play entertainment committee for my kids on holidays, so I've had time to blog... And it's not like with 5 kids and a gazillion animals and a bunch of visiting circus freaks I've got nothing to blog.
But the blog archive does not lie. One post for December. One post for January. And really, not much to be inspired by before that.
While pondering my lack of bloggy-ness, I received a text message from an old friend. We bantered back and forth for a few messages, than she sent this: "And what about those kewl kids, have they written their first best seller yet?"
I began to reply, "No best seller but Miss V is editor of a weekly "goodnewsletter" for our town's local paper!"
Then I deleted it.
Because you can't say stuff like that to other parents about your 3 year old, can you? Certainly not without a) sounding like you're bragging, b) discouraging the other person from telling you anything about their kids in the future or c) developing a reputation for being a smart arse that people don't want to talk to any more.
If not all three.
I think that's when I realised that I've forgotten how to talk about my children. Not just on this blog, but in general. When people ask how they're doing I make wide sweeping comments like, "Oh they're good. Miss F and Miss J have been approved for home learning this year and Miss V is looking forward to being the first 3 year old to take over the world."
All true, but not necessarily specific.
A more honest answer would be, "Well, Miss J and Miss F's home learning application was knocked back because the curriculum we outlined was too far ahead and would make them too smart - but we dumbed it down a bit and now we're good to go. And Miss V broke her own record for solving a rubicks cube last week - she's now down to 5 hours 20 minutes."
But you can't say stuff like that about your kids, can you?
It's not that I'm not bursting with pride. It's not that I don't want to talk about them 24/7. It's not that we're not the same kind of family, with the same kinds of values and beliefs as always.
It's just that my kids got smart. And I stopped talking about them because you just don't do that.
That is probably the most ridiculous reason for not doing something I've EVER admitted to. And I'm not going to conform to it any more.
I'm not going to filter what I say about my children in case other people get offended any more. That is definitely not a value I want for myself or my children.
Yes, Miss F can do back flips on the trampoline. We're circus freaks - so what?
Yes, Miss J can explain, in great detail, why sunflowers follow the movement of the sun from dawn until dusk. She likes sunflowers - so what?
Yes, Miss V can talk to Mr R's physiotherapist about skeletal alignment and hyper extension and muscle flexion and centre of gravity and counter balancing and... stuff. She asks lots of questions - so what?
Yes, my kids can speak fluent Auslan. Their favourite Aunty is Deaf - so what?
Yes, my kids can read facial expressions with an ease and speed belying their ages. We value emotional intelligence - so what?
We are who we are. I never want my children to think they have to be any more or any less for other people. So from now on, I'm going to talk about them with the pride and acknowledgement and respect that they deserve.
It's just what you do. Right?
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most.
We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?'
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us.
And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
~Nelson Mandela
But the blog archive does not lie. One post for December. One post for January. And really, not much to be inspired by before that.
While pondering my lack of bloggy-ness, I received a text message from an old friend. We bantered back and forth for a few messages, than she sent this: "And what about those kewl kids, have they written their first best seller yet?"
I began to reply, "No best seller but Miss V is editor of a weekly "goodnewsletter" for our town's local paper!"
Then I deleted it.
Because you can't say stuff like that to other parents about your 3 year old, can you? Certainly not without a) sounding like you're bragging, b) discouraging the other person from telling you anything about their kids in the future or c) developing a reputation for being a smart arse that people don't want to talk to any more.
If not all three.
I think that's when I realised that I've forgotten how to talk about my children. Not just on this blog, but in general. When people ask how they're doing I make wide sweeping comments like, "Oh they're good. Miss F and Miss J have been approved for home learning this year and Miss V is looking forward to being the first 3 year old to take over the world."
All true, but not necessarily specific.
A more honest answer would be, "Well, Miss J and Miss F's home learning application was knocked back because the curriculum we outlined was too far ahead and would make them too smart - but we dumbed it down a bit and now we're good to go. And Miss V broke her own record for solving a rubicks cube last week - she's now down to 5 hours 20 minutes."
But you can't say stuff like that about your kids, can you?
It's not that I'm not bursting with pride. It's not that I don't want to talk about them 24/7. It's not that we're not the same kind of family, with the same kinds of values and beliefs as always.
It's just that my kids got smart. And I stopped talking about them because you just don't do that.
That is probably the most ridiculous reason for not doing something I've EVER admitted to. And I'm not going to conform to it any more.
I'm not going to filter what I say about my children in case other people get offended any more. That is definitely not a value I want for myself or my children.
Yes, Miss F can do back flips on the trampoline. We're circus freaks - so what?
Yes, Miss J can explain, in great detail, why sunflowers follow the movement of the sun from dawn until dusk. She likes sunflowers - so what?
Yes, Miss V can talk to Mr R's physiotherapist about skeletal alignment and hyper extension and muscle flexion and centre of gravity and counter balancing and... stuff. She asks lots of questions - so what?
Yes, my kids can speak fluent Auslan. Their favourite Aunty is Deaf - so what?
Yes, my kids can read facial expressions with an ease and speed belying their ages. We value emotional intelligence - so what?
We are who we are. I never want my children to think they have to be any more or any less for other people. So from now on, I'm going to talk about them with the pride and acknowledgement and respect that they deserve.
It's just what you do. Right?
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness, that frightens us most.
We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and famous?'
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that people won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in all of us.
And when we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
~Nelson Mandela
My kids are hilarious
There have been some hysterically funny bits of life with the 5 Kewl kidlets of late... So too kick off blogging in 2010 I thought I'd share a few!
Yesterday, Mr R was playing a soccer type game on TJ's nintendo thingy (I know it's called a DS, I just refuse to acknowledge it!). TJ was watching over Mr R's shoulder when all of a sudden he exclaimed,
"Woah! You can kick great for a kid with no legs!!!"
We had a fantastically exciting start to the new year - On the 1st of January, 2010, Sammi and Mary got married!!! Being a same sex relationship, they prefer the term "committed" to "married"... And instead of being pronounced wife and wife, they were pronounced committed.
This was hilarious enough given the pshych ward terminology reference, so when they were pronounced committed and then Miss V cried, "Hooray! My lesbians are crazy in love!"... Well, that just topped it off perfectly!
Miss J has really embraced her roll as big sister to a little brother. She has also really embraced the advantages of said little brother having no lower limbs. This week, she put on her caring big sister hat and taught 2yo Mr R his longest - and arguably most impressive - sentence yet...
"Help me! Help me! I can't feel my legs!"
A couple of weeks ago one of the boys in our home learning community (K) asked Miss F if he could be her girlfriend. From the moment she said yes I began hyperventilating and having heart palpitations. Miss F was experience the same symptoms, but for a very different reason. All swoony and fluttery-eyed, she said to me, "Oh mummy, if the world fell to pieces, K would put it back together again! And he would make sunshine, and rainbows, and all of the beautiful flowers!"
With this in mind, possibly the best news of 2010 (as far as this mother is concerned, anyway!) is that this week, K infected Miss F with conjunctivitis.
So she dumped him.
And she has sworn off boys, forever.
You know, I think I'm going to like 2010. And if the first week is anything to go by, I'm definitely going to need more clean underwear.
Yesterday, Mr R was playing a soccer type game on TJ's nintendo thingy (I know it's called a DS, I just refuse to acknowledge it!). TJ was watching over Mr R's shoulder when all of a sudden he exclaimed,
"Woah! You can kick great for a kid with no legs!!!"
We had a fantastically exciting start to the new year - On the 1st of January, 2010, Sammi and Mary got married!!! Being a same sex relationship, they prefer the term "committed" to "married"... And instead of being pronounced wife and wife, they were pronounced committed.
This was hilarious enough given the pshych ward terminology reference, so when they were pronounced committed and then Miss V cried, "Hooray! My lesbians are crazy in love!"... Well, that just topped it off perfectly!
Miss J has really embraced her roll as big sister to a little brother. She has also really embraced the advantages of said little brother having no lower limbs. This week, she put on her caring big sister hat and taught 2yo Mr R his longest - and arguably most impressive - sentence yet...
"Help me! Help me! I can't feel my legs!"
A couple of weeks ago one of the boys in our home learning community (K) asked Miss F if he could be her girlfriend. From the moment she said yes I began hyperventilating and having heart palpitations. Miss F was experience the same symptoms, but for a very different reason. All swoony and fluttery-eyed, she said to me, "Oh mummy, if the world fell to pieces, K would put it back together again! And he would make sunshine, and rainbows, and all of the beautiful flowers!"
With this in mind, possibly the best news of 2010 (as far as this mother is concerned, anyway!) is that this week, K infected Miss F with conjunctivitis.
So she dumped him.
And she has sworn off boys, forever.
You know, I think I'm going to like 2010. And if the first week is anything to go by, I'm definitely going to need more clean underwear.
My children stole my Christmas Spirit!
Now, I'm the first to admit that as far as the whole Christmas thing goes - I have never been the biggest fan. The consumer side of the festive season leaves a bad taste in my mouth and I dislike the expectations our society places on people, loading us with feelings of obligation and guilt if we do not conform. Running around like a headless chook consuming "stuff" that for the most part, means nothing more than an obligatory Christmas lunch stomach ache or an extra roll of wrapping paper under the tree - that really isn't my idea of a joyful family tradition.
Then I had children.
It was almost like having children gave me permission to take part in the kind of Christmas that for so long I had conscientiously objected to. I had kids, therefore I was allowed to consume meaningless "stuff" for the purpose of creating a joyful family tradition... You know... For the children.
With kids in the picture, we did the tree, and the decorations, and the lunch, and the presents, and the parties... We did Christmas.
And I enjoyed it.
This year, my children changed the rules. My children - my permission to celebrate something I don't really believe in - they stopped believing in Christmas.
They took my Christmas Spirit, examined it closely, then stamped a big fat PERMISSION DENIED across it's face.
It started with our road drip down to see TJ's family. I was all for calling it a Christmas road trip - I wanted to decorate the car and fill our esky with Christmas themed food and play Christmas carols and bring Christmas DVD's.
I bought reindeer antlers for the car - you know the ones you attach to the windows, with a red nose for the front? Fun, right? Er, maybe not.
As I was attaching them, Miss F asked me what I was doing, and when I explained what the antlers were for, she said,
"Oh mum - Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Put the antlers down and step away from the car, OK?"
Christmas Road Trip =
Permission denied.
Next was the Christmas present list. I thought it would be nice for everyone to decide on one "decent" present for each member of the family, instead of getting lots of little ones. I started initiating conversations about what to get certain people while said certain person was out of ear shot.
Then my children started initiating "take the mickey out of mum's Christmas present conversations" conversations.
Mary Poppins is a vegan, so Miss V suggested we make her a roast turkey for Christmas lunch.
Sammi is deaf, so Miss J suggested getting her a ukulele.
Mr R has no lower limbs, so TJ suggested getting him a new pair of shoes or some brightly coloured leg warmers.
Miss F is a fashion diva, so Miss J suggested a stripey top with "matching" polkadot shorts.
And on and on it went.
Christmas presents =
Permission denied.
Then the Father Christmas of all Christmas traditions was snatched away from my Christmas Spirit.
My children stopped believing in Santa Clause.
One morning last week, Miss V came over and sat down next to me. She had the kind of intense look on her face that has me shaking in my "I'm an adult and I know about stuff" boots. Her brow crinkled, then she looked up at me and began...
Miss V, "Mummy, do you really think that there is a big man in a red suit who lives in the North Pole and makes presents and then delivers them all in one night? Do you really think that's real, mum?"
Me, "I'm more interested in what you think, Miss V?"
Miss V, "I think it's bullshit."
Me, "[Choke, cough, splutter].. Umm.. OK."
Miss V, "OK. Just as long as you know."
A visit from Santa Clause on Christmas eve =
Permission denied.
With my Christmas Spirit sad and weak and rocking alone in a corner, I hardly dared believe my ears when Miss J asked me if I'd like to see the calendar she made to count down the sleeps until Christmas.
A small glimmer of hope flicked across my Christmas Spirit's rather pathetic and sulky face.
Could it be?
Could Miss J actually be excited about the consumer driven, obligation and guilt fueled seasonal event that I don't really believe in?
Close examination of her face revealed what was most definitely and unmistakably...
Excitement!!!
She showed me her calendar - a beautiful, beautiful, calendar - with lots of green trees and golden bells and red music notes.
Christmas colours!
Christmas trees!
Christmas decorations!
Christmas music!
Christmas Spirit!!!
There was just one small detail that was not quite right.
Me, "Miss J, you have one too many days on your calendar. This one is the day after Christmas."
Miss J, "Yes, I know."
Me, "How come you made too many days?"
Miss J, "I didn't... We go to Woodford the day after Christmas!!!"
Her whole body beamed with sparkling, tingling, magical anticipation and excitement. She jumped onto my lap and threw her arms around my neck...
Miss J, "Only three more sleeps to go! Can we practice sleeping with ear plugs now? In case it's really noisy at night? Or maybe when we get there we can just stay up all night! Could we mum? Pleeeeeease?"
Excited tummy butterflies flew out of her mouth as she was talking and fluttered their way down to my stomach. The electric buzz of anticipation attracted the other little people like a magnet.
Miss F squealed, "I'm not going to sleep at ALL, the WHOLE time! And I'm only going to sit on speakers. And I'll eat guitar strings for breakfast!!!"
Miss V's eyes grew wide and she asked, "Do you think we could sit in the AusLan seats with Aunty Sammi? What if we take our ear plugs so we really can't hear? Then could we?"
TJ watched on in awe, listening to all the wondrous tales of what could be possible in this mythical wonderland we call the Woodford Folk Festival.
My Christmas Spirit took in the scene before us...
The excitement.
The anticipation.
The wonder.
The possibilities.
The magic.
It wasn't consumer driven.
It wasn't what society expected.
It wasn't out of guilt, nor obligation.
But there was no mistaking what it was.
Christmas Spirit -
Kewl style.
Then I had children.
It was almost like having children gave me permission to take part in the kind of Christmas that for so long I had conscientiously objected to. I had kids, therefore I was allowed to consume meaningless "stuff" for the purpose of creating a joyful family tradition... You know... For the children.
With kids in the picture, we did the tree, and the decorations, and the lunch, and the presents, and the parties... We did Christmas.
And I enjoyed it.
This year, my children changed the rules. My children - my permission to celebrate something I don't really believe in - they stopped believing in Christmas.
They took my Christmas Spirit, examined it closely, then stamped a big fat PERMISSION DENIED across it's face.
It started with our road drip down to see TJ's family. I was all for calling it a Christmas road trip - I wanted to decorate the car and fill our esky with Christmas themed food and play Christmas carols and bring Christmas DVD's.
I bought reindeer antlers for the car - you know the ones you attach to the windows, with a red nose for the front? Fun, right? Er, maybe not.
As I was attaching them, Miss F asked me what I was doing, and when I explained what the antlers were for, she said,
"Oh mum - Just because you can, doesn't mean you should. Put the antlers down and step away from the car, OK?"
Christmas Road Trip =
Permission denied.
Next was the Christmas present list. I thought it would be nice for everyone to decide on one "decent" present for each member of the family, instead of getting lots of little ones. I started initiating conversations about what to get certain people while said certain person was out of ear shot.
Then my children started initiating "take the mickey out of mum's Christmas present conversations" conversations.
Mary Poppins is a vegan, so Miss V suggested we make her a roast turkey for Christmas lunch.
Sammi is deaf, so Miss J suggested getting her a ukulele.
Mr R has no lower limbs, so TJ suggested getting him a new pair of shoes or some brightly coloured leg warmers.
Miss F is a fashion diva, so Miss J suggested a stripey top with "matching" polkadot shorts.
And on and on it went.
Christmas presents =
Permission denied.
Then the Father Christmas of all Christmas traditions was snatched away from my Christmas Spirit.
My children stopped believing in Santa Clause.
One morning last week, Miss V came over and sat down next to me. She had the kind of intense look on her face that has me shaking in my "I'm an adult and I know about stuff" boots. Her brow crinkled, then she looked up at me and began...
Miss V, "Mummy, do you really think that there is a big man in a red suit who lives in the North Pole and makes presents and then delivers them all in one night? Do you really think that's real, mum?"
Me, "I'm more interested in what you think, Miss V?"
Miss V, "I think it's bullshit."
Me, "[Choke, cough, splutter].. Umm.. OK."
Miss V, "OK. Just as long as you know."
A visit from Santa Clause on Christmas eve =
Permission denied.
With my Christmas Spirit sad and weak and rocking alone in a corner, I hardly dared believe my ears when Miss J asked me if I'd like to see the calendar she made to count down the sleeps until Christmas.
A small glimmer of hope flicked across my Christmas Spirit's rather pathetic and sulky face.
Could it be?
Could Miss J actually be excited about the consumer driven, obligation and guilt fueled seasonal event that I don't really believe in?
Close examination of her face revealed what was most definitely and unmistakably...
Excitement!!!
She showed me her calendar - a beautiful, beautiful, calendar - with lots of green trees and golden bells and red music notes.
Christmas colours!
Christmas trees!
Christmas decorations!
Christmas music!
Christmas Spirit!!!
There was just one small detail that was not quite right.
Me, "Miss J, you have one too many days on your calendar. This one is the day after Christmas."
Miss J, "Yes, I know."
Me, "How come you made too many days?"
Miss J, "I didn't... We go to Woodford the day after Christmas!!!"
Her whole body beamed with sparkling, tingling, magical anticipation and excitement. She jumped onto my lap and threw her arms around my neck...
Miss J, "Only three more sleeps to go! Can we practice sleeping with ear plugs now? In case it's really noisy at night? Or maybe when we get there we can just stay up all night! Could we mum? Pleeeeeease?"
Excited tummy butterflies flew out of her mouth as she was talking and fluttered their way down to my stomach. The electric buzz of anticipation attracted the other little people like a magnet.
Miss F squealed, "I'm not going to sleep at ALL, the WHOLE time! And I'm only going to sit on speakers. And I'll eat guitar strings for breakfast!!!"
Miss V's eyes grew wide and she asked, "Do you think we could sit in the AusLan seats with Aunty Sammi? What if we take our ear plugs so we really can't hear? Then could we?"
TJ watched on in awe, listening to all the wondrous tales of what could be possible in this mythical wonderland we call the Woodford Folk Festival.
My Christmas Spirit took in the scene before us...
The excitement.
The anticipation.
The wonder.
The possibilities.
The magic.
It wasn't consumer driven.
It wasn't what society expected.
It wasn't out of guilt, nor obligation.
But there was no mistaking what it was.
Christmas Spirit -
Kewl style.
Five
Things have been pretty busy in the Kewl house of late. Today I have found time to relax a little and actually sit infront of the computer, as opposed to standing over it, head facing the screen and body turned toward the multitude of other things that have been demanding my attention.
I've finally found the time, but it seems I've also lost the brain power!
So, as five is a pretty special number in our family, please accept a five point catch up and my apoligies for not being more entertaining or profound or, well, interesting!
I've finally found the time, but it seems I've also lost the brain power!
So, as five is a pretty special number in our family, please accept a five point catch up and my apoligies for not being more entertaining or profound or, well, interesting!
One:
We are now officially home schoolers, as Miss F and Miss J's home schooling applications were approved this week.
Two:
Yesterday morning I did a radio interview for One Second, the safe driving campaign inspired by losing Daddy Kewl to a drink driver. You can listen to the interview here.
Three:
The people at our local newspaper received Miss V's email and have agreed to publish her newspaper! It will be a double sided, A4 page insert and if it is popular, they will continue to publish it for her!
Four:
I have been hiding out at Always Kewl, an invite only blog where I use real names and say all the grief stuff that otherwise bubbles away below the surface. I miss Daddy Kewl a lot at this time of year, and it's nice to have somewhere to talk to (and swear at) him.
I've also decided I am comfortable sharing the less "together" moments, and that it's actually quite helpful, so please comment here or email if you'd like an invitation.
Five:
Last Sunday the 22nd of November, Miss J and Miss F turned five!!!
I told them that they are not allowed to get older any more. Next year they will just turn 5 again. Or maybe go back to 4.
Miss F rolled her eyes at me and said,
"That's called denial, mum. And it 'aint a river in Egypt."
Yep. They are definitely going back to 4 next year.
We are now officially home schoolers, as Miss F and Miss J's home schooling applications were approved this week.
Two:
Yesterday morning I did a radio interview for One Second, the safe driving campaign inspired by losing Daddy Kewl to a drink driver. You can listen to the interview here.
Three:
The people at our local newspaper received Miss V's email and have agreed to publish her newspaper! It will be a double sided, A4 page insert and if it is popular, they will continue to publish it for her!
Four:
I have been hiding out at Always Kewl, an invite only blog where I use real names and say all the grief stuff that otherwise bubbles away below the surface. I miss Daddy Kewl a lot at this time of year, and it's nice to have somewhere to talk to (and swear at) him.
I've also decided I am comfortable sharing the less "together" moments, and that it's actually quite helpful, so please comment here or email if you'd like an invitation.
Five:
Last Sunday the 22nd of November, Miss J and Miss F turned five!!!
I told them that they are not allowed to get older any more. Next year they will just turn 5 again. Or maybe go back to 4.
Miss F rolled her eyes at me and said,
"That's called denial, mum. And it 'aint a river in Egypt."
Yep. They are definitely going back to 4 next year.
Honest Scrap
The gorgeous Fe from Fe.. a life was recently awarded an Honest Scrap award. With this, she blogged ten honest things about herself - all of which were heart felt and inspirational! She also passed on this award to three other people, one of them being me... Kewl! Thanks Fe!By accepting this award I need to blog 10 things about myself, and nominate 3 other bloggers.
In the spirit of honesty, and in order to honor the gutsy post from Fe, I'm about to disclose things about myself that I am usually very careful about sharing. Why the heck I am putting them on a very public blog, I am not quite sure, but I don't believe in secrets or silence, so I guess now is the time to prove it.
Here goes then - My ten things...
1... Sexual assault was part of my life experience as a child. My parents separated when I was a baby, then when I was 10 the person who contributed the sperm in my conception forced his way into my life. He demanded weekly "access", where he sexually abused me for just over a year. The day I first disclosed to a teacher at school was the same day he skipped town.
2... Around a year ago, the same sperm donor was diagnosed with cancer.
Of his testicles.
Honk honk! Thank you, karma bus.
3... As a young person, one of the ways I dealt with the sexual assault was through bulimia. I felt out of control, so I tried to control the one thing about my body that nobody else could. I would severely restrict my food intake, then lose control and go on a binge, before the self hatred kicked in and I would purge.
It was unhealthy, it was self destructive, and at the time, it served a purpose.
4... I was a ballerina from when I was 4 until I was 15. Ballet certainly did not help my self image - spending hours upon hours in front of a mirror, comparing myself to an impossible ideal and striving for perfection that was never attainable to begin with.
In the competitive dancing world, the hours of self destruction paid off and I won a few major titles - The last of which was on a world stage, where I walked out to be presented with the award and appeared to trip over my own feet. Totally classy.
Actually, I was so disconnected from my body at that point in my life that I didn't realise I had been dancing on ankles riddled with stress fractures for months, and when I walked on stage, my feet finally gave out.
5... I am grateful for the sexual assault, the bulimia, and the ballet. Each of these life experiences served a purpose and enable me to be the person I am today. Even better than that - Each of these things are experiences that I can now choose not to pass on to my children. To me, this is the true meaning of "empowerment".
6... Running away to join the circus saved my life. If it weren't for the people in my circus family and for the help and support they provided me as a young person, I would definitely not be living the life I am today.
7... I believe in the Law of Attraction - what ever you want to call it, I believe it, and I like to think I live by it. And I don't care when I offend people by telling them that if they don't like what they are experiencing in life, they are the one's responsible for changing it. My husband is dead and my surrogate son is dead and I still believe it - so I will never apologise for it. I don't always get it right, but what ever I'm getting is my own doing.
8... When Daddy Kewl and I left the circus we rented a little beach shack to one side of a double block near the beach. The landlord lived in the house next door and he was an outrageous, eccentric, hilarious and self stated drag queen. He was something of a parental figure for Daddy Kewl and myself as we started out in the big wide world on our own. We loved him dearly and thought of him as family.
When he died, we realised he thought of us as family, too. He left us our family home - the double block by the beach.
9... With some education, some amazing opportunities and some hard work, Daddy Kewl and I set our family up so that we are now financially independent. This allows myself and the kids to live the lifestyle Daddy Kewl and I dreamt about. It means we can welcome TJ and Mr R into the family without any financial hesitations, it means we get to play host to a ridiculous number of animals, it means we can home school abundantly, it means I work on projects I am passionate about because I choose to, never because I have to - Essentially, for us it means choices, and for these I am incredibly grateful.
I decided to include this because I believe there is almost as much stigma attached to financial wealth as there is to sexual assault and eating disorders - and because I believe both are misplaced and unnecessary (and because there's no more crap left in my closet!!!).
10... I have turned comment moderation on because posting all of this stuff in such a public space terrifies me. I'm quite comfortable sharing this with my blog friends, who are like a big virtual hug and who never fail to astound me with their warmth and compassion. But there are people who read this blog who aren't friends - virtual or otherwise - and putting myself in a vulnerable position by sharing such personal information makes my heart slip into my stomach.
Actually, the person I am most worried about sharing this with is not a stranger, or some Google freak - it's my mother. It saddens me to say that my mother and I are not friends, and I am worried about what her reaction will be - But that is a whole other blog post and I think this one is about as much honesty as we can all handle for one day!
So there you have it. Honesty in the form of an open closet door.
To finish, I am passing this award on to:
Tiff, from Three Ring Circus
Lani, from Missy Boo and
Bush Babe, from Bush Babe of Granite Glen
Miss Association
Miss F was having a mini melt down because her little sister was beating her at a reading task. Miss F cried,
"But MUM! It's not FAIR! Miss V is SMARTER than me!"
Miss V, genuinely concerned for her big sisters happiness, patted Miss F on the shoulder, and said,
"Don't worry, Miss F, you are still smart by association."
"But MUM! It's not FAIR! Miss V is SMARTER than me!"
Miss V, genuinely concerned for her big sisters happiness, patted Miss F on the shoulder, and said,
"Don't worry, Miss F, you are still smart by association."
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