Thin line

I dumped my brain on here the last few days. I haven’t done that in a while, I try not to. It makes people feel uncomfortable. It makes me feel weird.

I want people to understand that the little things each day shit me just like the next person but I also want none of us to forget that while we bitch about picking the slow queue again in the post office or the idiot driver who pulls left to turn right (what the FUCK is wrong with people) there are so many bigger fish to fry.

Sure, I spend a large portion of my day trying to ignore the worries and stresses I have about Oscar.

Sure I, as a mother, spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about my boys, particularly Felix as he hits high school and enters a decade of becoming a man all while negotiating puberty, school work, who he wants to be, believing in himself, becoming more responsible, comprehending consequences on a far grander scale that what happens if you flog your brother again, having fun.

I didn’t really have fun as a teenager, my life was a pretty intense one with mum working her arse off and dad being absent but expectant all at the same time. When it all went pear shaped one of my aunts told me I had to grow up now, be responsible for mum, to be sensible and to help. Having fun and being a ‘typical teenager’ doesn’t really come into action when someone says that to you when you’re 11. I was the good Christian Girl going to not one but THREE youth fellowships (really covering all bases) and while it truly did get me through a lot of my teenage rage the pay off was guilt. I look back and think much of my adolescence was spent holding my breath. For the next bad thing to happen, for not being good enough, for letting people down.

Where do these emotions come from? I think they largely come from self, I can see it in Felix, but they are then compounded by external factors.

Fast forward a few years.

Fast forward to now.

I just can’t shake this feeling that I have done it all wrong. I mean, who the hell at almost 40 lives with their mother? Who at almost 40 has to ask for a hand-out from their in-laws to pay for car repairs? Who at almost 40 reduces three of their children’s bank accounts to zero to pay for car registration?

 

I’m doing it all wrong.

 

Where did I imagine my life to be at this stage?

Well, not living rent-free with my mother for one.

Not living pay-packet to pay-packet for another.

Not having to accept charity from friends.

 

Someone said to me the other day that accepting charity from others, help from people is about being humble and that having humility is the hardest virtue to learn.

 

In the last two weeks people have:

– looked after and cared for my children unconditionally

– picked up my kids from school and pre-school and looked after them for me without question

– texted me to say they’re having my kid over for a play, no discussion entered into (so so good)

– dropped off food parcels for my family including homemade dessert

– dropped off food parcels for me, to me, in the hospital

– brought me chai lattes at the hospital and hung out to talk shit and make me laugh

– taken my kids to and from footy practice

– dropped off a toiletries and cleaning products care package – anonymously. With one of those double Cadbury Family chocolate blocks in it. That I’ve hidden. And won’t be sharing. Maybe.

– sent us a crate of Gourmet Dinner Service meals that I keep looking at and bursting into spontaneous tears over. Because re-entry into family life after 12 days at hospital is just as hard, in some respects, as 12 days in hospital.

– sent me texts and tweets and Facebook shout-outs telling me you’re thinking of us, willing us a swift trip home

 

I have been humbled by all of it. Blown Away. Driven to tears at people’s love for us, for me. Bolstered by people’s generosity of heart and spirit.

I know we are blessed, that I am blessed to have a world so full of love and friendship. Plenty have pointed out to me they wish they had family and friends to help them out in times of need (subtext I am so lucky) and they need not fear me not realising, appreciating and being infinitely grateful to have so many holding on tight to the safety net under me, ready to catch me as I fall.

I know everyone has wanted to do this because I know when I see a friend struggling I want to do something, anything to ease their burden just a little.  Sometimes it’s words, sometimes something I’ve made, sometimes my hilarious company. (Remember when I was funny?)

 

So why is it sitting so uncomfortably with me?

Somehow all this makes me feel like I’ve failed.

Having to accept help is about having failed, of not being able to manage, of not coping.

I feel I’ve let everyone down.

That I have done it all wrong.

There are so SO many should haves swirling around in my head.

 

We have some family friends who are the most beautiful people in the world, but bad things happen to them all the time – a child off the rails, poor health, financial stress. There is always a feeling of unfairness when they are talked about, that they don’t deserve all this, why does it happen to them?

I do NOT want to be that family people talk about.

And yet I totally know we are.

I DO NOT want to be the sympathy card. The “Poor Kim”.

SO I just want you all to know I won’t let you down.

I will try harder.

You will not have to keep picking me up  or carrying me.

I will not let you down.

I will not fail.

 

Onward.

 

 

Craft camp

so this weekend just passed saw me leaving on a jet plane to Melbourne. No thanks to a multi-national sending me somewhere lush for free but to my annual sojourn to sewjourn where I get in touch with my uselessness on a sewing machine and general absence of creative process while surrounded by outrageously crafty and creative ladies. Luckily I can pretty much eat and drink them all under the table so there is that to stop me feeling like a complete incompetent.

It was a smaller tribe this year than last and I must say, a quieter more industrious crew.

I got completely side-swiped by the red ninja which was a bit of a downer to say the least. I mean, WHAT.THE.FUCK. ovaries, I was totally prepared for your monthly tantrum this week not Saturday morning. BITCH.

Fortuitously I had resumed my homicide-reduction pill taking therefore didn’t stab anyone but it did explain the fillet-of-fish binge eating I embarked on last week.

You’d think after having my period for TWENTY SEVEN YEARS I’d be a bit more clued in to what the hell was going on but barely a month goes by where its arrival doesn’t cause me to go ‘what? ALREADY?’

So there as that.

I have basically been having a pity party to end all pity parties these last two days. I have one parent miffed at me for forgetting their birthday and the other one clearly unhappy with me for what I suspect is me not paying them enough attention.

Then there is my monthly slide into morbid self-doubt, depreciation and general feeling of imminent doom. Cheery!


But fear not, I am on the improve. Some baking has been had, friends are coming over tomorrow and the world still turns. I dramatically edited my twitter feed, and have gone through all the photos on my iPhone. Granted that time would have been better spent cleaning up the cesspit that is our home but at least cleaning up these two things means they will stay clean. For a while at least.

Onward!

 

Pictures are of progress I made on making a quilt for Oscar.

 

 

A new day

So much has happened, so much is going to change but as I type it is all the same. And that’s OK.

I learned – in a very hard way – that some of my relatives read this blog. It appears that when they read this post they didn’t see a daughter deeply concerned for a parent, they saw someone saying dreadful things about someone else.

Those of you who know me know that could not be further from the truth. Your comments confirm this – offering advice and insights from your own experience or just empathy for when you are in a stressful situation with one you love.

It appears those relatives then decided, instead of calling me and asking what was going on and if there was anything they could do, advice they could offer, shoulder to lean on or ear to hear with, rang their own mother asking how and why I would say such dreadful things about my mine.

I want to say thank you to all of you who have commented, sent private tweets, emailed me, sent me texts and (gasp) spoken to me over the last stressful week to ensure I was OK, to see where things were at, to offer an ear or advice and to just show me that you care.

Your concern, understanding, love and empathy has been invaluable.

There are some very exciting times ahead.

Onward!

 

An OK day. Good even!

Oh guys, how your beautiful words of reassurance and encouragement buoyed me in that black sea. I know I drag you guys along on this roller coaster and well, today is no different.

Today I decided to play it low key. It was just me and Grover and there was much TV watching and playing on the computer. But there was equal measure of hanging on the lounge together and just generally decompressing from that rough weekend.

According to the forecast next weekend is meant to be more of the same in terms of the weather so I am already hatching plans to get us out of the heat or at least doing something rather than just enduring the weather.

But today there was goodness. GREATNESS even.

1. Grover drew his first attempt at people.

2. I taught Jasper how to ride his bike without training wheels! The look on his face as the confidence grew – oh that he will conquer the world!

3. I made three different dinners all from the same base of rissoles I had made a few weeks back and frozen – for some meatballs in tomato sauce, for others meatballs in a tomato and chilli sauce – both those with penne, and for mum rissoles in a red wine gravy w/ mash, carrots and broccoli. And we all ate at 6.30pm.

4. Jasper bought home his first reader. Is there nothing more breathtaking than seeing a child learn to read? I think not.

5. Everyone was happy today. And settled.

But the biggest achievement, after two weeks (if not more) of feeling like I was running with lead in my legs was this:

10kms people.  I ran 10 kilometres WITHOUT stopping. It took me about 1hr 10 mins. Sure, I’m now cripple but I did it. I CAN DO IT!

Onward.

Monday Madness

well, hasn’t today been a trip.

Achievements:

Fruit mince made for fruit mince tarts

Christmas cake for us made using a recipe from Margaret Fulton I heard on the radio the other day

Five mini Christmas cakes using my standard recipe made for presents

Vacuuming the ceiling on the verandah because my hatred of cleaning is only marginally pipped by my fear of spiders

Cleaned the glass door on the oven because I am so sick of Grover opening the oven to see how my cake/cookies/dinner is going

Non-achievements

Didn’t go for a run – today is Run3 of Week5 of C25K – a 20 MINUTE NON-STOP number. Tomorrow.

Not buying in to other people’s panic and over-reaction to various situations and events.

Slicing in to that spectacular looking cake up there only to discover it is undercooked. Oh YES IT IS.

Onward!