Circles

I thought I'd best fight my Christmas visitor-induced urge to hibernate for the next few months and make an appearance before we all bid farewell to 2011. I also need one more blog post for the year to beat my 2008 record. Whoot! (Insert fist pumps.) It has been such a wonderful and challenging year for us. 2012 looks set to be equally challenging and hopefully equally wonderful. I really don't remember the last time I felt this excited on New Year's Eve. Maybe not since childhood. There's a circle closing; bringing healing. I want to dance through a field of buttercups or something. I also feel a bit like crying. Circles. Life is bittersweet.


I've been working on two main lists to help me see what I can make of 2012. One is a list of 52 habits I'd like to work on during the year - the emphasis being on making progress, not end goal achievement. The other is a list of 52 things I'd like to do during the year. The goal is to cross off as many things as I can happily manage, so no penalties for not completing it. It's all rather prosaic stuff, really, so I won't bore you with the whole list. Some of it's fun stuff; some challenging; a decent chunk is health-related stuff that I've been putting off through fear or lack of money or both. 


We managed to turn a particularly challenging day while my mother was visiting into a bit of fun and simultaneously crossed the first item off my list early. Doot was quite ill with a stomach bug (the same one I had had a few days earlier) and my mother needed us to drive her to the city urgently to have a chronic ear problem looked at, so while she was waiting around at the hospital, the children and I headed off to the museum to see the sights and cross number 50 off the list. Excuse the dodgy photo (I left my camera's memory card at home and had to use Doot's rather ancient -in mobile phone terms- iPhone), but my view is, if there isn't a heavily altered mobile phone photo as evidence, it didn't happen. 

We also bought these beautiful slices of agate at the museum. There was one for each of us (Grandma took hers home with her) and an extra, the light blue one, because it looked like a misty winter sunset and I just couldn't help myself.

I'll be catching up on my blog reading over the next little while. Did I miss anything monumental? Did you have a happy Christmas?

Merry Christmas and Blah Blah Blah...

I'm just dropping by quickly to wish all who celebrate a Merry Christmas. 


My mother has been staying with us for a few days over Christmas and while I thought I would still be able to blog with her here, that hasn't been the case. Her visit has been challenging for a variety of reasons, not least of which is that my sweet, sensitive Wawa is not coping with the sensory and emotional onslaught of her grandma's presence (on top of a couple of visits with friends and family) and is feeling extremely anxious and upset. My poor baby spent almost the entire day today in the bedroom, refusing to leave the room unless carried and screaming if left alone for more than a minute at a time. Even left with her beloved Ni or Doot, she would quickly become anxious and scream for her mama. I'm so sad that I can't make her Christmas what it should be and that after all she's been through in the past six months, I've inadvertently added more stressors. 


In spite of the challenges, however, we really are making the best of things and tomorrow there will be a lovely basket of new trains and trucks and whatnot for Wawa, which will hopefully distract her a little and offer some cheer. Poor Ni's gift still lies in pieces. It arrived a few days ago, but there's been no chance to put it together. Thank goodness she's understanding.


A few days ago, before visitors began to arrive, Ni and I made Wawa a fuzzy felt Christmas Tree for her little corner. It was inspired by Kirsty's turf tree on Kootoyoo and has been a bit of fun for her to decorate.

I wish for you a lovely, safe and relaxed Christmas and New Year with those you love best. I'll see you in a few days.

Wawa's Baby

Wawa played with her birthday doll for the first time last night. It has sat neglected in its basket in the library since she received it in October.

It's not that I'm at all invested in her playing with dolls in general. Trucks and cars and trains and airplanes and the odd helicopter seem to fill her time and her lovely heart as it should be filled, but alternatives don't go astray and might just be needed for the exploration of new territory one day soon.

So I made a Black Apple Doll for her birthday and having created it with love and sweat and a bit of old pillowcase, I admit I tried to sell her on its various charms. It's a good thing my ego is not overly invested in such things, since she did not seem at all impressed by its long, dancing limbs, its soft black felt hair or its simple peaceful face. The only time she actually touched it was to move it unceremoniously out of her way.

Last night was different, however. Last night there were wheels involved. She had spotted them poking out of the top of a cardboard box bound for the op shop. It was an old cheap and nasty doll pusher gifted to Ni once upon a little girlhood that hadn't made the final cut for inclusion in our new household.

Nevertheless, at her request, I pulled it out and unfolded it. She disappeared happily into the house with it. I found her a minute or two later attempting (as is standard toddler practice) to climb into the doll pusher herself. Naturally, I explained that the pusher was just for toys and demonstrated its proper use with the doll.

Her initial response was, "No doll!", but after a few seconds' consideration, her stance softened and she took off careering around corners and bouncing off walls. At regular intervals, a dramatic (and carefully executed) crash would occur, sending pusher, Wawa and doll flying in different directions. The doll would wail, "Oh no!", her long, dancing legs, flying and then the process would be repeated.

As fun as it was to watch, Wawa's doll play didn't last long. After a short while, the doll was handed back and replaced with what was apparently deemed a more appropriate baby.

{this moment} - Taking a Moment

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want pause, savor and remember. - Soulemama

Things I Know - 16 December 2011

I'm linking up with Shae at Yay for Home! for the very last time. From next week, Things I Know will have a new host.

This week I know that at 37 I still have a vibrant, active imagination.

I also know that in the dark, this teddy bear looks exactly like a large cat (or possibly a small, but very fierce mountain lion) staring at me hungrily with glittering eyes.

I know that a clean kitchen and a fridge full of food makes the world a very different place.

Wawa is convinced that that pine cone outside the bedroom window is a turtle. I'm loathe to correct her.

I know that even if you're on all fours when you fall, you can still give yourself a pretty nasty bump.

Dirt, water, music and loving touch are elemental things that soothe.

I know that every night before she goes to sleep, Ni likes to pull back the curtain above her bed so that she can look up at the stars.

I know that that is a really lovely thing...except at dawn when the gap she leaves when she closes the curtain lets in the sun that shines like a laser in my eyes to wake me up.

I know that it's probably worth it when Wawa joins her at the window and two sisters stare out into the endless universe and sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star together.

While my little girl is still not feeling right, she seems to have had a slightly better day today.

She spent some time in the bath this evening and I know I'm learning to make the most of my limited opportunities for screen time.

On the other hand, I don't know how Christmas managed to sneak up on me yet again. Every year it seems to get worse.

I know that, as she hosts Things I Know for the very last time, I am grateful to Shae for inventing this clever meme. It makes for a perfect end of the week brain dump.

More Than Her Fair Share

Little Wawa has been feeling most unhappy these past few days. Yesterday was a challenge for me as my patience began to wear thin and tiredness and frustration showed through beneath. A long bath helped her (and me) for at least as long as she was in it.

Thankfully, she skipped her nap (as she often does) and went to bed early, giving me a chance to finally get our filthy kitchen cleaned and then to get a few meals prepared ahead of time - an economical way to do things if you're short of time and can manage it. A clean kitchen and food in the fridge set us up for an easier day today.

I kept my to do list to a minimum, getting things done in the two or three minutes between tears (Wawa's, not mine...yet). Mostly we took it in turns to sit with her as she attempted to play. As often as we could manage it, someone was there beside her when it all became too much - as it did again and again and again.

We might have to work harder at it on days like today, but it seems vital to get her giggling when we can - getting all those nice happy chemicals swirling about to help soothe her ills, even just a little - to make sure that she remembers, in body and mind that joy is her birthright, even on the hardest or saddest of days.

She's asleep now and I'm more than ready to join her, dragging Ni along as she clings tenaciously to her beloved laptop (as she does, metaphorically, at least, every night). It was a good day, all things considered. We did our best for our sweet girl. I hope that tomorrow brings a more peaceful day for her, poor babe. She's had far too many days like today in her two years of life - more than her fair share.

Passing for Normal

I'm learning to share myself less and less in the everyday. I've learned the hard way not to discuss life before children (amongst other things), so I hold back if I can. I keep my heart for home. I'm no less honest. My only lies are the pretty lies that spring into existence when I keep my stories to myself or clothe the truth in poetry.


I'm beginning to think that my social experiences over the last seven years, taking place, as they have, almost exclusively amongst other homeschooling families, are somewhat skewed. As rich and diverse as that community is in my big city and as much as it has grown in size exponentially in that same period it is a small world; a sub-culture populated by adults and children alike who, as a rule, don't fit (or don't want to fit) the school mold for equally diverse reasons.


My lack of a true societal cross section aside, however, I've come to the view that the most 'normal' people are those that are most adept at presenting the face they want you to see. It's easy to mistake their manufactured charm for true intimacy or conversely, fail to recognise true intimacy because it comes to you as slick as a PowerPoint presentation. Wait around long enough and there will be glimpses, but only ever that.

The only face I have.

Allusions can be made. They should imply a 'colourful' past, not a sojourn in the fiery pits of hell. There should be space for a slightly nervous laugh; a raised eyebrow or two; tongue in cheek. Chances are they will not have the imagination to follow you to those dark places. Don't challenge them to offer you something more real than a sweet smile. There's really nothing wrong with sweet as long as you're not too invested in it.


Many would argue, but I consider myself better adjusted than most (or at least more self-aware). In retrospect, I feel fortunate that I had the opportunity to face my demons; take them out for dinner and a movie, ask them back for 'coffee', then explain in bed over a shared cigarette that it's been great, but I don't think we should see each other again. Most people just skirt the edges of their dysfunction. I say get dirty with it. Embrace it. Then, when you're ready, let it go. 


Just don't talk about it. I've heard blogging can be cathartic though.

{this moment} - Brrrrrrrm...

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want pause, savor and remember. - Soulemama

Things I Know - The (Very) Late Edition - 10 December 2011

I'm linking up with Shae at Yay for Home!

As much as I believe in keeping the number of objects in our house to a comfortable minimum, I am still excited when new books arrive.

If you go to great trouble to trace a sewing pattern for a sleep mask from your computer screen, because your printer isn't working, you should put it somewhere safe while you're sewing or someone (not mentioning any names) may turn it into a snowflake (albeit a very pretty snowflake).

Looking up from cooking to find someone peering through the window is always creepy - even when it's just a needy spoodle (courtesy of a poorly placed chair).

I know that 1000 blog posts jostling for precedence in my mind is nearly as bad as none at all.

As ever, Christmas has me feeling mildly panicked. (And by "mildly", I mean "extremely".)

There is little point taking your camera out if you're not going to put the memory card back in it first.

I know that our new couch cover clashes with the drapes, but co-ordinates beautifully with the children. It seems a fair trade off.

I also know that this is the first and last time any of us will see it clean, unstained and without holes from cat claws. Soak it up. Our time is short.

Also, apparently I am now the sort of person who buys $25 shower curtains. What can I say? I was very tired; it was pretty; there were people enabling me...

I know that Wawa's latest comfort toy is going to be tricky to shove in my bag when she tires of carrying it about.

I know that a sore eye and a summer cold (inevitably coinciding with a grumpy toddler with a summer cold) can really make you feel worn out all over again.

I know that the metal Christmas tree that Rex' husband made is really beautiful.

Thank you and a Sore Eye

Thank you for your comments on my last post. They were very kind. Excuse my absence over the last couple of days. My eye has been sore, so I'm resting it a bit, by looking at screens less. I had a bit of a self-indulgent whinge about the eye thing here which is great, because all that pathetic moaning is time-consuming and it'd be a shame to have to do it more than once.

Zero

I don't compare myself to others in terms of life achievements. Most of us are born; we grow up; we develop; we have ups; we have downs; we pair up and we buy things. I'm being flippant, of course, but in a very broad sense, that's where most of the people I spend time with are at.

My life got stuck at the downs. It really did. It went down and down and down. In the space of about a year when I was around twenty-three, my anxiety and depression saw me made an involuntary patient in a psych hospital where I was given ECT (electric shock treatment) that stole my memories from me. I struggled to eat and weighed 39kg. I would sit in a toilet cubicle and scratch at my flesh with a sharpened stick, because it was the only thing that could offer respite from the agony I felt in my mind. I was transferred to another hospital where I was raped by another patient. Some time after I was released, the man I loved took his life and I soon returned there for more time behind closed doors.

There were moments when I came from ECT out under the stark summer sky with no sense of myself. No name. No love. No life. No beauty. No safety. No warm arms or soft lips. No poetry whispered through red wine slurs.

I consider that my starting point. Zero. I was born from an utter devastation of the spirit. And in thirteen years I got to here. Now.

So I don't compare myself to others in terms of life achievements. It's all relative. When I was a single parent, I would mostly just laugh at other women's occasional awkwardness or insensitivity, but the patronising words that often accompanied it always managed to poke me between ribs and even now makes me want to ask, 'What were you doing at thirteen?'

Am I a Blogger?

I've realised that I love blogging. I really enjoyed writing every day during NaBloPoMo. It's also become clear to me that if I don't have to do it (even if it's a self-imposed 'have to'), I won't (or more accurately, I'll write some notes or begin a post and then probably never get back to it). On the flip side, I've also realised, as part of this rather odd process of re-testing my limits (now that I'm no longer crippled by gluten and casein-induced anxiety), that I can set myself a challenge and actually complete it.

Wow! Let me just think about that for a minute. I've been trying and failing to prove something (anything) all my life (I have NEVER not struggled. Seriously. NEVER) and in November, I set myself a challenge on a mad whim and I completed it. It certainly wasn't easy, but I completed it without tearing my life apart or having a breakdown or needing to retreat from the world at the end of it. Wow.

It was a weekend of revelations. As I went about exploring new bloggy vistas, it began to feel a little as if the Internet was speaking to me. Half of the posts I read seemed to have a message aimed square at my chest. It culminated in a post on Diminishing Lucy which I visited via The Rewind, a weekly link up that she hosted this weekend. She was explaining her advanced to-do list technique and how it helped her achieve her goals. I was thinking how impressive she was in a completely alien not-at-all-like-me, I-could-never-do-that kind of way. And then I went off to read other things until it slowly dawned on me, why the hell not? Who knows what I'm capable of now (or what I'll be capable of in a year or five)? Not me.

And so I'm writing a list (or several lists). Inspired by this post on And Then There Were Four which I also read on the weekend, I'm making a 52 in 52 list for 2012 and right near the top there, after some health-related stuff is "blog 5 days a week". I'm aiming to give myself the best chance of success by making it a weekly average so that I can catch up if I get behind and I'm starting early to give myself a bit of a run up.

Even as I write this, I'm thinking, "That sounds like a lot of work. I'm not sure I'm up to it." Maybe not, but I'm going to give it a try. I guess we'll see if the post-anxiety disorder me is a blogger.

{this moment} - Probably Not Mutual

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want pause, savor and remember. - Soulemama

Things I Know - 2 December 2011

I'm linking up with Shae at Yay for Home!

This week, I know...

• Putting an unhappy toddler in water can sometimes hit the reset button on their day (and yours).

• When you're ten and your family uses up the entire allotted Broadband allowance and your Internet is slowed to dial up speed three days before the end of the month, it is a human tragedy of unequalled proportions.

• When you're 37 or 40, you well probably find yourself responding to this human tragedy by sharing informative and helpful vignettes about the dark days before any of us had Internet (shudder). Apparently we have become our parents. Awesome...

• I don't actually know for sure, but I think that Lofty (the crane) from Bob the Builder has a crush on Muck (the dump truck). 

• Also, it's possible we're watching too much children's TV on iView (see also Internet tragedy above). It's a slippery slope, people.

• I have missed having a camera that works properly. It's good to be noticing the light.

• Hypothetically speaking, I know that if one parent comes home late and leaves a full bag of corn chips sitting on the bench in plain sight, the other parent's first task of the day will be to deal with a two year old demanding "crackers" for breakfast.

• I also know that, always one to choose her battles, said parent will put the banana back in the fruit bowl and serve up a pile of chips in lieu of cereal, especially since said parent already promised the ten year old that she could have left over pizza for breakfast. (Hypothetically speaking, of course.)

• When I read and comment on more blog posts, I feel more engaged with others. When I write more blog posts, I feel more engaged with myself.

• I know it's good to take a day off occasionally.

• I also know it's awesome that Ali's back online after an extended break!