Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Seeing red kind of furious, unable to console my son who hysterical at the thought of a strange man magically coming into our house while he sleeps, despite locked doors.
Kids at my son's class have all been asking the big "Is Santa real?" question.
Much to my dismay, these little people, developing their independent thought, are being lied to by their parents, continually insisting that Santa is real. When real, well thought out questions are asked, the kids are told if they don't believe in Santa, then they won't get presents. "If you believe in Santa, then Santa is real" What the hell are we setting our kids up for in life?
I have never lied to my kids about this. I've been 100% truthful but always asked them to play along if children in their social circles believe in Santa as I really don't want them to incur the wrath of parents who enjoy lying to their kids; however the overwhelming force of other people lying to their own children makes it impossible for my son to be peaceful and calm tonight.
I'm fine with playing a game but when you insist to your prep-aged child that Santa is real, despite their own misgivings, which they then force upon other children in fear of not getting presents on Christmas morning, I wonder if you think about the damage you're doing, not only to your own relationship with you kids when they find out you've been lying to them, but to their sense of self and knowing their own mind. When they ask you flat out "Mummy, this does not makes sense, is it real?"
I really don't mind playing along with the Santa Myth, but once that question is asked, it's game over.
My eldest meanwhile, had fun setting cookies and carrots out for Santa and his reindeer, know it is make-believe and the truth behind the mythology. Not once has she ruined the lie for other kids, and is having a great time. Happy medium.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
For just the love and acceptance you gave, but not excluding: your terrible Dad jokes, reddit addiction, bad taste in hair cuts and devotion to rockmelon, I will always love you my friend, for who you are. I miss you every single day. Stay Classy.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Sorry, but I do.
Why, at Christmas, does my family, immediate or extended think they can dictate my time? Why can I not want my kids to myself for a week before I don't see them for a fortnight, when they're not exhausted from a full school week...
Why, just because it's Christmas, am I selfish for not wanting to rush. For not wanting to watch happy families happen around us and feel bad for us because we are different?
Is it like grief? Where we expect the bereaved to feel better with gift baskets and flowers... A friend who lost her son was exhaustedly taken aback when a circle of her friends insisted she came out to lunch so they could 'treat' her and give her the knick knacks they had bought for her.
Do people think I'll top myself if I spend a Christmas on my own terms? Poor single person. Can't be left alone, let's put then in the middle of lots of families so they feel less alone.
Ok I've reached rant point.
I need a holiday, alone. Anyone want to come? ;)
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Should you change for the one you love? Is changing some behaviour that hurts your chosen changing who you are? Or is it classed as changing how you operate?
I'm being told I am unreasonable for asking for change with regards to something that hurts me deeply and has a significant history of going very badly. It's not a minor thing.
So who changes? What if one refuses to even try to negotiate? Is it game over?
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
I'm standing here stirring syrup because I don't know what else to do. I know I won't sleep. At least, I have syrup.
Martha, an acquaintance of mine, is sitting in a hospital waiting for news of her Husband, father to her tribe, her Chosen. He was in an accident. He may not wake up. He may not breathe on his own. He may never feel anything below his neck even if he does learn to breathe on his own.
I wonder about Martha. How does one wait to hear the fate of your Chosen. Do you pretend to read magazines? Do you check your phone for the trivial bullshit on Facebook?
Is she just staring at her hands?
I doubt I will sleep tonight. But in the very least, as I pray, as I try to keep hope, but feel my heart breaking... At least I have berry juice syrup to stir for my babies to pour on yoghurt in the morning.
Friday, March 29, 2013
I have so many friends in different situations.
And every single mother I know, I respect. Please note I am writing this from that Dangerous place, IME! In My Experience. I mean no disrespect to families that aren't hubby-wife-kids, this is just MY experience.
Girls, it's time to stop with the comparisons.
A Fly In Fly Out mother will never understand a single mother.
And single mother can't understand a FIFO mum's life unless she has lived it.
There's the mum with the hubby/partner who just are not interested in family.
And then... the perfect family, the one we all secretly envy, or perhaps not even so secretly. Hubby who is home, present and up to the challenge of equality in life space.
I have been both. I was the one who prepared for alone time for long periods and relied heavily on friends to help me cope... especially so in a foreign country with no family. You know what? Almost no one helped. Even when I practically begged and couldn't walk, heavily pregnant with baby#2 in a 3 storey house. It just didn't happen, except for those precious few who were genuine friends.
The first time hubby went away for an extended period, it rained FOR A MONTH STRAIGHT, no joke. It sucked. It hurt. I was lonely and exhausted.
You know though, both suck.
Both are exhausting.
Ok so FIFO mums aren't technically single, but they can feel like it. Even if they don't understand what true single parent hell is like, they still are having a crappy time. Let's not add to it by taking offence to single-parentesque comparisons. Ok?
Monday, June 18, 2012
It essentially goes
If you don't like where you are, Get off your ass and change....
You can be wherever you want to be, because you're not a tree.
This link may or may not work for you!
You know when you get those moments where a simple (sometimes silly) statement like that blindsides you?
I'm not a tree. I have control over the floors. It's not the forest floor that I can't rake up the leaves around me.
If I'm unhappy with the clutter, then I need to get rid of it.
I am unhappy with my social life, so I should just ask one of my sitters and go out.
I'm not a tree. I can move on and I can fix a lot of what is wrong with my life.
And so I shall.