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Same Old, Same Old
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As much as I love my hometown of Newcastle, I have to admit that we don’t tend to adapt well to change. We agree that it is a good thing (in theory), but would prefer it happened to someone else, somewhere else.
This morning I was listening to the radio and heard mention of a comment by Nick Greiner yesterday about the Newcastle city rail line. Apparently, Mr Greiner feels that our inner city resembles Beirut on a bad Friday night thanks to the track that extends into Newcastle, separating the CBD from the waterfront.
For those who don’t live in Newcastle, you may not realise just how long this discussion has been going on. I can remember public debate on the issue as far back as my final years of school (in the late 80s) and the topic was hardly new then. More than twenty years later, we are still discussing it. Actually, the radio conversation this morning was more a discussion about the fact that we are discussing the rail topic. It’s enough to make you dizzy.
Frustrated by the rehashing of a tired old argument, I switched stations hoping for something a little more interesting. No such luck. Apparently Lenore Skenazy is in Australia, once again upsetting modern parents by promoting her free-range children philosophy. They mentioned the fact that she allowed her 9-year-old son to ride on the subway alone as if it only happened yesterday. Surely this ‘child’ is now well into his teens, having survived both the subway and the trial by media of his mother.
Anyone else feel like their life is some cruel Groundhog’s Day-esque practical joke? Am I the only one trapped in a seemingly endless round of deja vu discussions and experiences? Is there truly ‘nothing new under the sun’?
Maybe my frustrations with the rehashed ‘current’ affairs discussions stem from the relentless repetition that is an inevitable part of family life. Endless loads of washing, meals to prepare, school drop offs/pick-ups, bills to pay, lunchboxes to fill and after school activities to schedule and attend. Endless repetitions of the same questions from me (Where is your lunchbox? Have you done your homework? Have you brushed your teeth?) and them (Where are my socks? What’s for dinner? Do I have to?).
It can be difficult to stop one day flowing seamlessly into the next as I cycle through an ever-repeating list of household chores and responsibilities. The same old, same old discussions are just the icing on the cake.
I think I need to make more of an effort to inject something new and interesting into my days. As part of dealing with my diagnosis of depression last year I have been trying to do things for myself, small indulgences and treats to buoy my spirits. It’s not just about buying things however (although I still get a ridiculous amount of pleasure at the sight of my ‘this will make me feel better’ red stiletto shoes). It’s about reclaiming myself – physically, mentally and emotionally.
So, any tips for how to easily inject something interesting and new into my everyday life? I’m all for a all expenses paid trip to Europe to expand my horizons and stimulate cultural and social discussions, but I’m guessing that is unlikely to be an option. What does everyone else do to keep the Groundhog’s Day Blues away?
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One Step at a Time
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The problem with making grand statements is that the next thing you do needs to be equally grand or the whole situation ends up feeling like a bit of an anticlimax.
I’ve tried to think of something inspiring to write about today, something that would prove that I really have committed myself to changing the way I deal with life in a more positive, productive way. I wanted a big news story that would really confirm that this was the dawning of a new age of organisation and all-round awesomeness.
I’m sorry to report that opportunities to save the world and totally renew and transform my life have been a little difficult to find this morning. I haven’t done anything particularly remarkable, although I guess that’s what yesterday’s post, Onward and Upward, was all about. I need to stop waiting for the perfect moment to come along before I get on with my life. This is my life, now, and I can either live it with purpose or I can waste it while I wait for the ground-shaking event that will signify that it is time to finally put new plans into place.
So, today I have not completely cleaned and reorganised my kitchen, I haven’t dusted from skirting boards to cornice, nor have I cleaned out 3 years of electronic dreck from my inbox.
However, I have finalised forms to give to my accountant so that we can submit our 2010/11 tax returns (yes, I know, more on financial chaos and disorganisation another time). I have hung out two loads of washing, washed up and prepared an acceptance letter for a friend’s wedding invitation a whole 19 days before the RSVP date.
I may not have managed to get up at dawn for an hour of yoga and pilates before eating a nutritious and organically sourced breakfast, but I did eat a bowl of porridge while it was still hot and I actually sat down at the table to do it. I even read a few pages of a book at the same time (Charlotte Wood’s Love & Hunger: Thoughts on the Gift of Food for those who are curious – a wonderful book that I am thoroughly enjoying).
Once I publish this post, I will take some freshly made pumpkin soup to a friend’s house so that we can share it for lunch. We haven’t caught up for a while and I’m looking forward to a relaxing chat with a good friend.
It may not look like it, but today was a step, albeit a small one, in the direction I want to go. I’m happy with that.
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Onward and Upward
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I have come to a conclusion – my life is passing me by while I wait for things to get better. I’ve got everything on hold waiting for the ‘right’ moment when it will all suddenly make sense and my purpose will shine, clear and unimpeded, ahead of me.
I’m tired of being on hold. I’m tired of trying to deal with all the old stuff before I move on to the new stuff. Unless a great big RESET button appears to wipe away all the past mistakes, regrets, half finished jobs and mishandled opportunities, I’m squandering my future as I try to mend my past.
So, this is my line in the sand. From today, it’s all going to be different.
I don’t think everything is suddenly going to fall into place because I’ve decided to stop dithering and procrastinating, but I’m determined to put a few things right from today onwards. The muddled up past can get sorted out as I go (or not).
There are still lots of issues to sort out in the background, but I’m determined to make an effort to focus on the kinds of positive, interesting, quirky, entertaining things that make me smile or think (or even both at the same time if I’ve had enough sleep and a sufficiently large shot of sugar).
So, from today, writing for my blogs and elsewhere is part of my ‘taking time for myself and choosing to be productive and positive’ therapy. I will stop waiting for the blog renovations to take place and will instead start posting regularly so that when the cyber facelift finally happens, there might actually be some readers about to notice. I will continue to write for Kids Book Review, Suite101 and Happychild online as well as Newcastle’s Child in print and I will happily consider offers from elsewhere for freelance writing contributions.
The time has come to stop making excuses and stop letting guilt and regrets hold me back. The journey forward starts with one step, and I’m taking that one step today.
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A Little Music Before Bedtime
1I’
ve just posted something serious and thoughtful over at my book blog Reading Upside Down (you can read my letter to Indigenous Australian author Anita Heiss here should you be so inclined), so I feel in need of something a little light-hearted to balance things out before I head off to bed.
I think a musical interlude would work nicely. Since my awesome, AWESOME Walk Off The Earth Beard Guy T-shirt arrived in the mail today (ordered thanks to some very supportive enablers on Twitter) I think that a couple of Walk Off The Earth clips would do nicely.
I’m sure that most of you are familiar with the WOTE Goyte Somebody That I Used To Know cover (If not, you can find it here). Instead, I want to share two of their other clips. I love that they are both talented and quirky.
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I’m Such a Coward
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Quite often, I think of great things to blog about then, one of three things happens.
- I’m not near a computer at the time, but I assure myself that I will most definitely remember that absolutely fantabulous idea later and I do not write it down. Very unwise.
- I get distracted by life in general and children in particular and by the time I can get to the computer the blog post is no longer topical. Darn those pesky children who expect to be fed and cared for.
- I want to write about something important and meaningful and I chicken out. I then read something incredible written by another blogger and kick myself that I wasn’t brave enough to write about it myself.
Obviously I need to get a notebook and a better routine to deal with the first two. I think I’ve found the solution to the third problem. I’ve just read an amazing post on a topic I have long felt passionate about and an amazing response to the post that shows just why it’s important to write about the important things. Nothing like the bravery of someone else to convince you to overcome your fears.
Thanks to a Facebook link by Yvette Vignando from Happy Child, I today discovered the Single Dad Laughing blog. In November last year, blogger Dan Pearce wrote a post titled ‘I’m Christian, unless you’re Gay.‘ This was followed up today with ‘A Teen’s Brave Response to “I’m Christian, unless you’re Gay”’. These posts have reminded me why blogging isn’t just a self-indulgent outlet for frustrated wannabe writers.
You need to go and read both of those posts now. Really.
Dan’s original post moved me deeply. I’m a Christian and I have long felt uncomfortable with the way many Christians and Christian churches target particular groups within the community and ‘blame’ them for undermining our society. I’ve never understood it. If we believe that (perceived) weakness and flaws in others are a problem, then aren’t our own weaknesses and flaws just as likely to be a problem? We listen to sermons that talk about love, forgiveness and the fact that all sins are equal in the eyes of God and the we walk outside and impose a strict hierarchy of wickedness on actions, with our own weaknesses given the lowest possible ranking.
I’ve never been able to get my head around the inequality of it all. I am grateful that I have the freedom to express my faith, to form my own opinions, to choose my own priorities. Why would I not want others to have that same freedom? Why do I believe that I have a greater right to integrity and self-determination than someone else? What makes me so special and them less so?
It is the underlying arrogance of people on both sides of the debate (about same-sex marriage, homosexuality in general, religion vs. atheism, lifestyle choices, health choices, whether eating sugar will poison us all) that leaves me feeling frustrated and, when Christians are involved, quite often embarrassed and ashamed of how my own faith is represented.
Of course I think that what I believe is right. That’s why I believe it. I think that my life choices, my faith, my priorities are the best possible from the options available. That’s why I chose them. BUT, and this is the important part, that doesn’t mean I have the right to force others to share my view, to demean and belittle them if they disagree, to ostracise, ridicule and mock them if they don’t share my opinions or to blame them for all that is wrong with the world. If I want the right to set the priorities for my life, I should extend that same privilege to others.
If you didn’t follow the links to the Single Dad Laughing blog above, you really should go now. If you’re a Christian or simply someone who believes that their faith gives them an inside edge on the way things ‘should’ be, I strongly recommend you read the original post, then read the response post that shows just how much damage can be done by judging actions without acknowledging the person and their need for unconditional love.
As a Christian, I found the original post confronting. As a parent, I found the incredibly wise and heartfelt words of the 15-year-old boy just as confronting as I consider the way I deal with my own children and the efforts that I make to ensure that they feel accepted and valued in their own home.
I’ve been thinking a lot recently about what I really want to do with this blog and I think today I’ve worked it out. I’ll still be writing frivolous posts about random things that catch my eye, but I’ll also be speaking up about the important things. Thank you Dan for your courage. You’ve inspired me to be brave too.
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I’m a Top 50 Style Dare Blogger!
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At the beginning of last year, I was so very tired of feeling and looking ‘blah’. My clothes seemed to be uniformly drab. I owned 17 lipsticks, mostly in shades of brown, and my wardrobe was overflowing with ill-fitting clothes in neutral colours. It was suburban mum camouflage, helping me to blend into the background – nothing too tight, nothing too bright, nothing unusual, different or noteworthy.
Acknowledging my limitations and desperately wanting to get out of the style rut I’d found myself in, I decided to consult with a stylist. Enter the encouraging and supportive Alison Triffett, who helped me enormously and gave me lots of tips on how to liberate myself from the overwhelming beige-ness of it all.
I guess my big style lesson last year was realising how the way I dressed was influencing the way I felt about myself and vice versa. It’s not about wearing catwalk fashion or designer labels, but rather about working out what makes me feel good about myself and what kind of image I want to project to others, and keeping my style choices consistent with those goals.
So, what image do I want to project? Honestly, after years of blending into the background and striving to bland myself down to make sure that I wasn’t standing out too much or making anyone else uncomfortable, I simply want to be able to relax and be myself. I want to have a little bit of fun, but still keep things reasonably basic and practical. To be eclectic and quirky but not out-there.
Inspired by Alison and the same Anonymums book that prompted Andrea’s first fashion dare, I decided to ditch the brown lipsticks as part of my style overhaul. I fronted up to the Napoleon Perdis counter at David Jones and told the consultant, Tania, that I was looking for a red lipstick that wouldn’t make me look like a hooker or a clown. I was looking for a new style, but it’s still good to set some fashion boundaries, I think.
Tania picked out a few shades for me to try and then informed me that it often takes several minutes to get used to wearing something so bright. Maybe so, but I must confess for me it was love at first sight. I love my red lipsticks and have worn them regularly over the past nine months including during Andrea’s first ever style challenge, the #RedLipstickDare.
Red has become a colour that symbolises my rebellion against all things beige and blah. In addition to my red lipsticks, I also own the world’s most awesome Wittner red sequined shoes. I love these shoes. LOVE them. Knowing that I have a pair of such stupendous shoes in my wardrobe gives me a little buzz every time I think about it. Blah-beige women do not own red sequined, silver glitter-soled stilettos. (Thanks to Tiffany from My Three Ring Circus for the awesome shot of my shoes. The style name is Amber, but I much prefer the name Kim-Marie of Kimba Likes has given them: the ‘We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto’ shoes.)
I’ve even dip-dyed my hair red, much to the disgust of my 12-year-old son who seems to feel that mothers should be too sensible and responsible to do anything so frivolous.
I love Andrea’s Fox in Flats blog. It’s a regular reminder to me to consciously avoid frumpy mum clothes and to instead have a little big of fun with the style choices I make. I like being bumped out of my comfort zone with her dares and I’m proud to be on her list of Top 50 Style Dare Bloggers.
When did you last shake up your style choices?
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For Those Who Did Not Report
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I had a post planned for this evening, but it has been sidelined after I spent a few minutes reading the #IDidNotReport tweets on Twitter. Reading and thinking about all the women out there who have endured acts of sexual assault and harrassment, but who for a variety of reasons were never able to report what happened to them.
It is confronting to read that so many women never felt they had the option of reporting what happened to them – that they wouldn’t be heard, that they wouldn’t be believed, that it wouldn’t be considered a crime.
Even sadder, the women who didn’t report because they had tried to report in the past and hadn’t been taken seriously. I think that those tweets are the most upsetting. That those women, some only children or teens at the time, were brave enough to speak out and were ignored, laughed at or belittled. Little wonder they were unwilling to risk being vulnerable again.
This isn’t just about women being vulnerable. It is about both genders treating each other with respect and it is about us, as a society, making sure that the victims of sexual crimes, both male and female, are able to feel safe coming forward to report what has happened to them.
I feel overwhelmed by the sheer number of women who haven’t reported what happened to them, but I am not judging them. I don’t judge, because I have my own #IDidNotReport memory and because I understand that sometimes, not reporting is the only way to protect shattered emotions.
I can’t speak for the hundreds of women who have tweeted their #IDidNotReport story. I can only say that I didn’t speak up because I was sure I wouldn’t be believed. For a long time, I found it hard to believe it myself and had almost convinced myself that the act was consensual. But it wasn’t.
It didn’t help that not long after the assault, I was part of a conversation where someone (an older male) stated that they didn’t believe that date rape was really possible. Women who said yes, then no shouldn’t be surprised that men got confused and shouldn’t complain since they were part of the problem. I wish I’d spoken up then. I tried, but I wasn’t brave enough to tell my own story. I argued in general terms and when I was refuted, I stopped trying to argue my point at all.
Years later, I no longer feel like a victim. What happened to me was never reported, but living with it, processing it, being honest about it to myself and to others when the topic has come up, has made me stronger and, I hope, more empathetic to the experiences of others.
I hope #IDidNotReport has raised awareness of not only how many women are assaulted, but why those women feel that they are unable to come forward and report what has happened to them. I also hope and pray that for the many who have been brave enough to step forward and tell their story, however briefly, that they will find release in speaking out and comfort in the support and understanding that is being offered by so many.
If you need to access information or support services related to sexual crimes, this NSW Government Help for Victims of Sexual Assault page has links to support and counseling services as well as information on reporting sexual crimes. For an account of the background to the #IDidNotReport hashtag, read this Sydney Morning Herald article by Sam de Brito.
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Time For a Reality Check
1Years ago, I lost quite a lot of weight over a relatively short period of time (20kg over about six months). Despite the obvious physical changes, it took quite some time for my head to adjust to the ‘new’ me. For years, I continued to buy clothing a size too large or loose styles that covered problem area that no longer existed. My mind took some time to catch up with a new physical reality.
The past couple of years, and particularly the past year, have brought about some significant changes and I have had similar issues trying to get my head in synch with what is happening around me. My life has changed and I have changed, but I’m still trying to do the same things. It’s no surprise that things aren’t going so well.
see more Lolcats and funny pictures, and check out our Socially Awkward Penguin lolz!
So, I’ve forced myself to take a reality check. There are lots of areas in my life that need adjusting, but most come down to accepting that my abilities, tolerances and interests have changed. I’ve spent so much of the past year feeling frustrated, guilty, annoyed, resentful, embarrassed and upset. I feel like I’m letting others down and I know that I’ve let myself down more times than I care to remember. I haven’t lived up to my own expectations and I’ve felt pressured and overwhelmed by the expectations of others.
My head is tryin to maintain all my old habits, commitments and routines while my heart feels like it is trying to achieve a completely different list of priorities and the conflict is causing me nothing but grief. I am way past the point when a reality check was necessary. So much of my heartache in the past year could have been avoided or at least minimised if I had simply accepted that I am not the same person I was a few years ago. The challenges I have faced have changed me and I am simply not able to function any more in the same way I did then.
It’s not just the deep and meaningful changes either. I’m no longer a 33-year-old mother of three under five. I’m 40, my children are all at school and within the next few months I will become the mother of a teenager (Heaven help me). I’ve had some complicated physical health issues to deal with in the past few years and some confronting emotional and mental health issues to deal with in the past 12 months. The demands of my family and my own body are changing.
It’s not all doom and gloom, of course. I’ve let go of a lot of hang-ups in the past 12 months particularly. I’ve rediscovered a side of myself that I haven’t let out of the box for years. Ironically as I’ve hit emotional lows, I’ve also found hidden strengths and a long ignored sense of fun and appreciation for simply enjoying the moment. Red lipstick, sparkly red stilettos, getting my old lady groove on at a Hall & Oates concert, dip dyeing my hair – I’ve regained an appreciation for the random moments that make life so enjoyable, even in the midst of challenges. My children, as always, remain a source of incredible pride and joy.
How does everyone else deal with the times when you need to take stock of your life? Does anyone need to stop occasionally to reorient themselves after major life challenges or am I the only one who can’t make these adjustments on the run? Does anyone struggle to make important decisions or changes because people around them don’t seem to be able to adjust to the fact that you can no longer meet their expectations?
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Choosing to Give (+ Giving Bowl giveaway)
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I want my children to grow up knowing that being part of a community – locally and globally – involves sharing what we have with others. This doesn’t just mean finances, although that is certainly part of it, but also our time and abilities. We have a responsibility to make a positive difference in the world around us.
The reality is that for most of us, a general philosophy of giving is the best we can do. A full-time focus on fundraising or charity work is not possible. We have work and family commitments, health and financial issues, and limitations in our abilities and knowledge that make it difficult if not impossible to dedicate ourselves 24/7 to a cause, no matter how important or significant we believe it to be.
In the midst of the busyness of everyday life and the crowds of people sharing their focus and attention across a range of activities, causes, priorities and interests, there are those few inspiring people whose passion for a specific cause burns bright and focused. These are the people who get their hands dirty and their hearts bruised as they try to make a difference.
These ambassadors for a cause can sometimes leave the rest of us feeling uncomfortable. Their passion and willingness to do without to make a difference highlights just how much we have and how little of it we share. How much we waste – time, money and effort – and how distorted our priorities sometimes become.
In the past few years, Cate Bolt has been one of those passionate advocates, catching my attention again and again. Her relentless campaigning for the causes close to her heart is inspiring and while her flame does occasionally burn white hot and blind with its intensity, it also offers warmth and encouragement for those who want to find practical, everyday ways that they can support a cause that makes a difference beyond the walls of their own home or the streets of their suburb.
Cate is a passionate campaigner for the homeless and voiceless everywhere. She speaks out for those that society chooses to ignore. You can read more about Cate’s work and causes at her personal website and the Foundation 18 site.
Cate’s latest project is The Giving Bowl, which offers us all the opportunity to make a difference both the causes close to her heart and to those close to ours. Buy a handmade Giving Bowl from The Giving Bowl Etsy shop and you will be helping Cate to provide support to women and orphans in Indonesia. You can then fill the bowl with your loose change and donate the money to a cause that is important to you.
Today I ordered two giving bowls, one for our home and one to give away. I think that this is such a wonderful idea and I can’t wait to encourage my children to not only contribute, but to help us decide who will benefit each time the Giving Bowl is filled.
I would also like to offer a Giving Bowl to a reader of this blog. If you would like to receive this mini Giving Bowl (8-9cm wide, 5-6cm high, pictured to the left), please leave a comment below. You can either mention who you would like to support with your Giving Bowl change, or maybe share how you and your family choose to make giving a priority in your home.
Boring stuff:
• Open to Australian residents only
• Giveaway will close Friday, 27th January at 10pm, EST.
• Bowl pictured is as ordered from Etsy, but colour may vary.
• Winner will be notified by email. If no response within 48 hours, a new winner will be selected.
This giveaway is now closed. The winner of the Giving Bowl is Dannie from A Dose of Dannie. I hope you enjoy your Giving Bowl and I hope that the donations you make bring a cure for your husband’s condition one step closer as well.
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Musical Memories
1Several weeks ago, the National Library of Australia (@NLAgovau) tweeted about a music book from their archive collection, Play Day in Happy Holland. I was sure that my sister had sung songs from that same book for a concert when we were children, so I decided to see if I could track it down.
Not only did I find Play Day in Happy Holland, which was apparently bought for my mother when she was a child for a concert (price 2/-), but I also uncovered some music belonging to my grandmother that I had almost forgotten. My grandmother’s music was her only indulgence and it was also a very special connection between the two of us. I have my grandmother’s piano and every time I play it, I think of her hands on the keys and know that she would be pleased that I still cherish the piano in the same way she did.
So, for those who love music, history or musical history, I’ll share a small sample of the treasures I uncovered.
First, the music book that started it all. I give you the juvenile operetta Play Day in Happy Holland containing the toe-tapping favourites My Bulbs are My Children, Burgermeester Grumpygrowl and Cheeses.
There was a wonderful mixture of music including these ABC Community Song Books:
Australian classics like Where the Dog Sits on the Tuckerbox, A Pub with No Beer (featuring a youthful Slim Dusty on the cover) and the Aeroplane Jelly song.
And for something a little bit more upbeat, Johnny O’Keefe’s She Wears my Ring and John Farnham’s Sadie.
There was Christmas music:
Songs for children:
And, much to the delight of my daughter who helped me sort through the music, songs with really, really strange names. Gilly Gilly Ossenfeffer Katzenellen Bogan by the Sea, anyone?
Just so that you don’t think my grandmother was only interested in that crazy modern music, there was a large helping of classics and more ‘serious’ music:
There were so many memories stirred by different pieces of music – music I remember my grandmother playing, music I have played myself. My grandmother has been gone for some time, but with the pile of worn pages in front of me, pages that she held and treasured, I felt connected to her. Robin’s Return reminded me of her stubbornness and determination. She learned to play it despite being told that it was too hard for her. A Beautiful Lady in Blue reminded me of duets with my grandfather (playing violin) as my grandmother enjoyed a cup of tea, Dad’s Birthday Waltz was a family favourite and Fur Elise has always been a piece that I simply love to play, a piece that I often practised when I visited her.
I’m so grateful that a random tweet from the NLA sent me on my treasure hunt and I’m glad that I was able to share the wonderful memories the music stirred with my daughter, who is learning to play the piano on the same instrument that her grandmother learned on. More wonderful memories in the making.
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