Chapter Forty: 06/09

26.6.09

Little Miss

Dearest Little Miss,
When you were born it felt like my finest moment. A baby girl, perfect in every way, ten toes and fingers, perfect little nose and perfect skin though it was a little red, well very red in colour, but the midwife assured me that was a great sign. You looked up at us with big wide dark eyes. You stared at Mummy and Daddy then you did your first poo. (At least the midwife had to deal with that one.)

These first two years with you have been truly remarkable. You amaze me everyday. You have loved a steadfast routine and can tell me what will happen after dinner,
“Bath, milky, bed.” you say.
After childcare we go and pick up your brother, once when daddy had that task, you burst into tears as I pulled into the driveway screaming,
“Brother, brother, get brother Mum.”
You haven’t even turned two yet, but you know what is what and what order it should be done in.
Another amusing quality is putting “y”or “ie” on the end of things that comfort you- Milky, baggie, bickie. This is probably a natural progression from the other things that comfort you like dummy, teddy, baby, story, mummy and daddy.

It took some time for you to get walking, You preferred the commando style of crawling. With a nice slippery floor you actually slid around the house and did a nice job of picking up lots of fluff. This was A) good for your immune system and B) a help with cleaning the floor, but C) not so helpful with the washing, your clothes were disgustingly dirty all down the front.

Up till very recently you have always been a great little eater. All manner of vegetables have been consumed. This has been very helpful to get your brother eating them too. We give you over the top praise for putting a carrot in your mouth and then he says,
“Look, I’m doing it too.”
Thanks for that little miss. I would like to know though, what has happened to that good little eater? Now the eating fuss pot has taken her place. Peas are picked out and thrown away, only to spend the next few hours squashed under my shoes. Strawberries are meet with a NO. Meat is chewed then spat out too. You do like to play with rice, but I think you regard it as a fashion accessory, coating your hair and clothes with the nice sticky grains. You seem to think its bickie time all the time, telling me,
“Mum, bickie cupboard, Mum, Mum bickie”

I can sense that tantrums will be the order of the day with you, distraction has worked for now. In the future though my little one I will be saying “NO” and resisting the urge to give you everything your heart desires. Even though that’s what I really want to do, but its just not what is best for you in the long run. As your mother it is my job to bring you up to be a well rounded reasonable adult, tantrums are not acceptable. Adult tantrums are truly ugly and very shameful. See here if in doubt.

The journey with you so far has been so amazing, you love and adore your brother so much, I never considered that family dynamic when we planned you. You are amazing and I love you so much my little miss.

Love from Mummy
PS I would really like it if you stopped calling me Mum, I prefer Mummy thanks.

NOTE:
In my limited experience I have found that children and eating is all tied up in parental emotions. When you take your tiny baby to a health check she is weighed to make sure you are doing your job properly and feeding her. When she has grown you feel like you are doing well at this parenting game and are successful.

The food types change over those first years, but that emotional tie to feeding and nurturing your child doesn't. When a Mum friend has complained about a child not eating I have said so many times, “They wont starve themselves.”
But that’s the wrong thing to say. Mums have to let go of that emotional connection of success and achievement with what goes into their child’s mouth. Not completely, but little by little as their child grows. We also need to remember that their needs change over time too. Growth spurts mean more food and in the downtime less. Their tastes are still developing too so their likes and dislikes are going to change.

We ultimately have to let go of our children. My wise sister once told me that we don’t own our children they are just on loan to us. (This was also said by Dr James Dobson, he must have met my sister) In our paranoid society we moddle coddle our children with over protection. The sooner we learn to let go little by little the better off they will be, helping them develop into confident and capable adults.

Starting with my emotions, and little Misses eating, I’ve got to take my own advice and chill about the food a bit.

"Children are not guests in our home. They have been loaned to us temporarily for the purpose of loving them and instilling a foundation of values on which their future lives will be built." Dr. James Dobson. - A Dude.

12.6.09

Mystery Box

Window seats in restaurants are often coveted, they give the diners a view of the outside world. Enhancing the experience of going to a restaurant as the world goes about its work without you. You sit, eat, look, drink and enjoy. And lets face it going out for meals is a real pleasure. I love it. You are waited on, asked what you want, you have choice, what do you feel like? Fulfil your whim.

As I walk past I view the window diners with envy. There is an elderly couple leaning back and having cappuccinos, a woman with a child and all the paraphernalia of pram, mess, big bag and food. The two of them are sharing one bowl of pasta. I love the sharing food thing. When I grew up this never happened and as a big hungry family you didn’t dare leave your dinner plate abandoned. A hungry brother or sister was bound to steal your food. Mum made around 300gms of steak feed five of us by bashing it out flat. It was bigger, but thin, lean meals.

Once particular diner grabs my attention, a lone brunette who glances at her watch. She is obviously waiting for someone as she isn’t reading a paper like lone diners usually do. Plus there is something different about her, she has a great big pink present on the table, waiting. My attention turns to the present. It’s a box, large, taking up most of the table. A pink layer of wrapping paper is overwrapped with cellophane. Its shiny. Ribbons top it off. It’s a dream present. Large exquisitely wrapped and box shaped. Boxes can contain just about anything, but generally speaking its something precious to warrant a box.

As I continue on my walk and past the café my mind returns to the errand I am on. There are five things to purchase milk bread cheese bananas and sugar. Anymore than five and Id need to write a list. It is said that you can only really be close to five friends at one time. Five lives to enter, remembering and caring about details. Five fingers on your hand.

I wait at the traffic lights with the bleep beat. Looking at the pub across the road I think of the times I’ve spent there. Once they gave me a free drink just for saying please. I was shocked my simple manners were noticed.

Feeling the presence of another pedestrian I fiddle with my bag. The bleep signals its time to walk and we head across the road. The pub smells of stale beer and cigarettes. The smoke continues outside the TAB. My pace is faster than my waiting pedestrian and I am now near the hairdressers. Hairdresser noise escapes the doors, Hairdryers, and raised voices. Looking in I see women looking at themselves with women looking at themselves doing hair. Mirrors mirrors everywhere, Women reading about other women, Wet hair, towels, plastic tight necked capes. A kaleidoscope of hair bits on the floor, walked through, stood in, swept up.

A cafe strip with outdoor dining. I dodge an ‘A’ frame sign declaring a glass of wine and pizza for $15. Dannys Thai bistro, Gusto , Rain, Mannys. I feel like an intruder in the dining room of these lunch time patrons. Head down, I continue on my misson. The pavement looks grotty, blackened with food.

A bank with ATM waiting to dispense. Bored security guard next to opening doors. A men’s clothing store, empty and quiet, monochrome shirts hanging in the window, a sign declaring SALE. Old leaves gathered in a corner. Cars in a busy intersection, trying to turn, indicators on. People on the road, a big yellow bus, delivery van coming through. Another busy café with outdoor diners to be seen and look at. The happy noise of everyone talking at once. The clink of cutlery. A record shop, music flows onto the street, rows of neatly alphabetised music.

Finally my destination, the Supermarket. A red empty basket. Can I remember my five items? I am already lured to purchase strawberries they are on special. The bananas are green. The fruit is all laid out to pick. On display, origin stated.

Take a number wait your turn for sliced meats. Cold, dead, wrapped and weighed. Neat aisles of categorised packaged food. Brought together and displayed for convenience. Pick me, pick me. Organised labelled and priced. There is an abundance. Too much choice, too much food.
“Security check in area 3”
Easy dinners, Muzak. Wayward trolleys. Artificial light.
What is so super?
Strawberries, yogurt, Danish, juice, jam, milk, bread, cheese, bananas, and sugar selected, carried, bar code read, bagged and bought.

Outside traffic noise, two heavy bags to carry. Retracing my steps. Its downhill now, easier and its all been seen before. Then I recall the pink present. Was the brunette still waiting? What is in the box? The sun has come out it warms my face. I feel thirsty. The plastic bags hurt my hands. The lights are red. I wait….

Will the brunette be gone? Will the gift be on display stripped of its wrappings.? Is it beautiful? Will I ever know what’s in the box?

I reach them. The brunette and her new companion, a blonde, are all smiles. There are hand gestures. The brunette is talking with great enthusiasm, she is animated. The blonde reaches towards it, smiling. It sits before them on the table. The gift has been given. Open. I stare.

The mystery of possibility is more interesting than reality.

11.6.09

Letting go

Dearest B,

You started school this year and I am so proud of you. You have learnt so much in just two terms, I am totally blown away. You can read, write numbers, and add up. You know all about nocturnal animals too. Your concentration and focus is deep. I can see as you read you are so proud of yourself. Congratulations.

I do feel overwhelmed for you as you have so much more to learn. You go off to school so happy and so brave. You are a marvel.

It seems you are testing the boundaries at school. How much can you get away with, what will they tell my parents. Unfortunately lies will catch up with you. It saddens me that you lied to me. That is more upsetting than you scratching your friend. I understand that we all get frustrated and act out that frustration in our anger. I am more angry about the lie.

A simple lie is very hurtful. Its like the beginning of a new phase in our relationship. Now you are fully aware of our separateness and that I will only know what you tell me. I must change with you as you grow. I love you so much. You are changing so fast, growing up, learning and developing.

It is so hard to let go of you into that tough world of the playgrounds. . I want to protect you. Cover your ears from the pain of innocent words. All I can do is prepare you. But are you listening to me? I must remember that you will learn from my actions as well as my words. I must listen with time to you, carefully, and in-between your words.

I will remind you often of all the positive things you are achieving.

Love from Mummy

PS Daddy and I watched an ABC1 TV program about kids in school called "Solving the jigsaw". Its a special course for kids on communication and assertiveness to help them deal with bullying and other issues. An amazing facilitator Bernadette really listened to kids and enabled them to acknowledge some very big emotions and issues. These 10 year olds were dealing with bullying, domestic violence, and family separation. They were learning to voice their emotions and confront the adults in their lives with assertion. It was very moving and inspiring. We both wished we had experienced this course at school and thought it should be part of every schools curriculum.

Happy 40th Birthday

I celebrated my 40th Birthday by getting married. It was a magical day and I felt like a princess all day long. Of course those of you who are married know that a wedding day only lasts a day, and when you are having a fantastic day, it is simply not long enough. I didn’t want the day to end. It was all as it should be. I felt totally beautiful and in love. Now I am not going to get too sloppy on you. The groom and I have been together for 19 years, we have two children, we have done the hard yards, so to speak. A year of those 19 where spent apart. We knew each other were going to turn up, we know the best and worst of each other.

Why did we wait this long? I am not really sure, it wasn’t because we couldn’t afford it, nor because we didn’t believe in it. We both wanted it, but without religion maybe we needed some other justification since we had basically been living as if we were married for this long. A 40th birthday wedding was just an idea, a cover up for the hard face of getting old. However we are lucky to share the same birth date, so as his 38th and my 40th this wedding was to be a simple birthday celebration.

Still the night before I tossed and turned in bed all night worrying over the smallest detail, panicking about what the kids would do during the ceremony. It was all planned to be simple, relaxed and kid friendly with around a fifth of the guests being children under five.

I wasn’t worried at all up till now, but my heart was racing and my mind ticking over like I was on a huge caffeine hit. I literally got no sleep at all. How long the night really is. I lay listening to our 5 year old son breathing heavily and our 20 month old daughter suck unconsciously on her dummy. I meditated, counted sheep, and tried to deeply relax.

The men of my family who went to the bucks night came home noisily and I thought of my groom, hoping he would be in his bed asleep, and not chained to the jetty naked as they had teased. But I knew he would be fine, the day would be fine, still sleep never washed over me.

Eventually I got the house up, the sun was just rising. I showered before the kids woke up then disturbed my sister, she hadn’t slept either. That made me feel better. She was going to feel as bad as me today. But honestly I found I wasn’t feeling bad, I was so excited, my stomach buzzed, my throat was blocked by a huge lump of anticipation. Weddings are so fun for all the build up and planning. Living in the future as always, I was already worried about what I was going to do afterwards, what would occupy me when the wedding was over?

I didn’t pack appropriate clothing to wear for the wedding preparations of hair and makeup so I put my pyjamas’ on again. This wasn’t pleasant as I had just spent a sweaty sleepless night in them. I sprayed extra perfume on and didn’t worry about it. I was eager to get my hair done, my step niece was doing this task for me. As a 17 year old she did her hair first saying she would be 20 minutes. There was plenty of time. It was only 7am and the wedding was at 11am. So I tired to calm myself and see when my sister in-law would be ready to do my makeup. She took total control and was putting on my foundation within minutes. Yes, it was happening.

My sister had the huge task of flowers. We had done a practise run and made a posy bouquet and button holes before, messing around with florist wire and tape. I knew she would be fine, but she herself didn’t know this and looked panicked, she left my bouquet till last. Our Dad eventually got involved and after two attempts presented me with a beautiful arrangement.

Having my family fuss over me, and totally focus on this event was an amazing experience. It made me feel so damn loved. So lucky, so accepted and needed as part of the family. Belonging and being loved unconditionally by them. My nephew did so much for us, setting up the garden with my brother, being bar man and packing it away again. My brother in law did more than just deliver our son to the groom, he found the missing socks eventually after various trips between the houses, helped get him dressed and reassured the groom of his nerves. Everyone it seemed did something, delivered chairs, videoed the ceremony, travelled from afar, made cup cakes, make-up, flowers, hair, took photos, carried presents, toasted our health, retrieved wine, took care of the kids, played music, gave us drinks. Its an amazing experience to have everyone you love focus on you as a couple. It should have been enough to just have spoken out privately about our love for each other, but it was so much more to have all your friends and family do the same for you too.

The ceremony went with out a hitch, I walked on air into that garden. Our daughter held onto her posy and didn’t chuck it away. [Later I noticed her eating it] Our children sat beside each other in front of us. Perfect, our son lent in and kissed our daughter several times. She played with her dressed sprawled around her. They were perfect, nothing rehearsed all behaving just as they should. Our son presented the rings on cue. The celebrant made the only mistake and asked me to make the groom my wife as I wed him with the ring. We all laughed. I thought it was perfect that it was him messing up and not us.

After 19 years does getting married actually change anything? Yes, with a doubt. That public declaration of love to one another is powerful. It gives you confidence. Everyone you care about has seen it, that makes it valuable, real, and tangible. It makes what you feel, something people have seen. The act of getting married is a declaration of love, open public and out there. Your witnesses make it more real, than what you just feel. You then gain a husband, someone bound to you rather than just hanging around you. You’re together on the path, rather than just being on paths next to one another. Now we have our marriage to consider. The bond we have, the promises we have to keep. It turned out that we gave the gift of marriage to one another that birthday and it was absolutely awesome.

Best present ever.

Chapter Forty

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