Tag: life

a letter

Dear Dadadadad

Cameron asked after you again this evening and I realised I had not written to you in a while. So much has happened, all good things, clearing up and clearing out – you said
to me once that, as I “plodded” towards thirty, I’d “probably” sort myself out. Hehe. I guess you were right. I never factored in that I’d end up so goddamn thankful for each
second of my life and yet, here I am, vibrating with gratitude whilst plodding.

Work is well and fine, and like you said, if I put my mind to it, I’ll do it. And I think I am. Well, I’m trying to, even on the shittiest days. There are good days and there a bad
ones, but the spaces between are where I feel my best, less scared and more aware.  Does that make sense? Who knows.

I’ve seen two good friends this week who I just want to squeeze with love. Boos and Seh. Boos is good, and looking fantastic. She never changes, never wavers and still
makes me laugh like a cackling, spitting loon. I always knew I would be lucky to be blessed by her, and it’s phenomenal to me how Cameron remembers her, and how
easily she just got into the groove with her.

Seh is, Seh is. Wow. Seh is a fantastic mother. She was made to do this parenting thing we hold so high. Calla is gorgeous and so good. I never thought I’d ever see Seh
so calmly doing this. She’s so much braver than I ever, ever knew – I always knew she had the courage to take over the world, I just never knew she really would. I guess love does make the difference in the world, after all.

It’s been so re-affirming to see them again. To talk of nothing and everything and be silent with each other. It’s so rare for me to feel that I can be silent in the presence of
another person. And yet, there they are. good friends who have lived through the quiet and the insane noise of my life thus far, and have never wavered. I’m a lucky, lucky
girl. I have very good friends.

Ah, but that’s not the only reason I’m lucky. As I’m sure you’ve noticed by now, I’m really quite taken by this person. I think you’d like him. Funny enough to make me
want to throw my shoes, yet quiet enough to let me feel safe. Familiar enough to feel comfortable and scary enough to keep me on my funny toes. Just like you said, once.
Enough about me, let’s talk about her for a minute. There are so many times I look at Cameron playing, talking, twirling around, that I wish for you to be with us. That I think
how fantastically you would be gobbling up this experience of life with this precious person and how, when I have tired of reading Cinderella for the ninety-fifth time, I
sometimes wish I could ask you to do it. I think Cameron would love that.

Sometimes I’ll catch her doing something that I so easily see you in. The way she likes to creep up on me with that funny, arched-eyebrow look, when she knows she’s
going to make me laugh. Sometimes when she thinks, she puts her finger on her nose, and I laugh and ask her if she’s holding up her imaginary glasses. And when I
ask her what she’s thinking about she says, “Mom. I’m thinking. Give me a minute”.

The time, it slips away so quickly. Just like you said it would. But, I’m having the time of my life as her mom. I’m having the time of my life as me.  It’s the little moments that mostly nobody else sees that make every day with her so precious. The way she squeezes her little arms around my neck and says “I love you mom”, and the world spins around us but in that moment, we’re entirely still.

You were always so good at telling stories and I try really hard to be the same. Sometimes I’m just so darn tired, though. But, I do try. Enthusiasm is a choice, after
all.

I often used to question you about all of this parenting shiz. And you would laugh and say “out of the three, you were the hardest”. Heheh. That’s probably why I won’t
chance it again with another. When you said you knew I could do it, I don’t think I believed you then. But, I believe you now, and I hope I do a good enough job. Only one
person can answer that though, and it’s not you or me or anybody else but her.

I never thought she’d be the girl she is today. Does that sound strange? I thought she’d be a tomboy, a rough and tumbler, and yes, she is to some extent. But the inner
princess is floating right through her. I wish you could see her dance. Can you? Without the slightest abandon or fear of toppling over – all she cares about is that she is
dancing.

She rides her bicycle now, and I swell with pride. She kisses my cheek and nothing in the world beyond our front door matters at all. You said nobody could teach me to be
a mum, that I would just do it, and I do. I’d ask you how can you love someone so much that you would do anything in the world for them…and you’d say “you don’t think
about it. you just do it because, it’s the most natural thing in the world”.

You were right, after all.

It’s bedtime for me, so good night and, keep sending the feathers. xxx

slashtags

pondering the 42 again/missing you/looking at photos and canning myself/stuff/witty retort involving plankton/pink cupcakes/sleeping/deadlines/meetings/contracts/death-defying stunts of clevernesss/oj/toasties/aeroplanes and astronauts/taking over the world/nah, just a little piece of it/good friends/big gay suitcases/laughing/never stopping laughing/cuddles/warm socks/reading/sunshine/storms at night keep me under my duvet/strawberry shortcake/goodbyes/hellos.

“and the science that exists, calms me down” – fttw.

you reckon?

just random musing here before i delve back into my todo list..

 

So, we made it! It’s not the end of the world. But, it will apparently take about a month to really get the large hadron collider (spelling that SO carefully…think about it, read it again, and giggle a little…go on…) going so, we shall see. hah.

That said, however, there was today an earth tremor in Dubai, emanating from an earthquake in Iran: Tremors from an earthquake registering 6.1 on the Richter scale 60km south west of Bandar Abbas in Iran were felt in Dubai today, prompting the evacuation of high-rise buildings on the Sheikh Zayed Road and in the Dubai Media City.

so, like dudes, you reckon, right? Could they actually be connected?  Every action has a reaction and all that. And let’s face it, we act enough against Mother Nature. 

Who knows. I don’t hold answers, I just muse. 

Later peeps.

stream of consciousness.

read this:  http://www.consciousvibe.co.za/node/773

think this: have good friends. have a bright life. dance without fear.

love this: sunshining day

hug this: beautiful child named calla that i met today for the first time.

watch this: videos from last night waha.

sing this: torch – alanis morissette

message this: hey, let’s go buy pie! haha.

figure out: how to respond to your mentor asking you for your opinion. And being floored by it. And so honoured.

eat this: pudding of life.

think about this: horses flying. (which makes no sense to anyone but you)

never be: afraid to make a foot out of yourself. spelling mistake intentional. 🙂

look forward to: stage diving with cameron tomorrow. heehee.

always smile.

Happy weekend darlings

Discipline

Discipline. It’s that quintessential life principle that gets drummed into us from day bloody one.

I need you to know this before I continue, I hate rules. I loathe being told “no, you can’t do that”. So, when it comes to discipline, I battle. But, as life has grown me up and made me think about things over and over again, I’ve developed and stick to my own set of rules. And yes, stick to them like flies to that you-know-what paper, I do.

For that, I blame my parents. They weren’t ever particular sticklers for the conventional “be a good girl, keep your mouth shut, do as you’re told” rulings. In fact, their lives weren’t even remotely good examples of “keeping their mouths shut”. For that, I am eternally thankful, even when it makes me unpopular. I don’t have the ability to keep my mouth shut when something irks me, annoys me or is shown to me as an injustice. Above all of that, I can’t stand people who beat around the bush. Either be direct, stick your neck out, say what you mean to say, and we’ll deal with it. People who try to pussy-foot around an issue, generally don’t get my respect or my abiding.

This is one good reason why SheBee and I can live together. Neither of us are pussy-footers. Some people call us fullashit, but we call a spade, a spade.

When I was growing up, my folks used their voices. Alot. I cannot think of a time when they weren’t talking. Heh. My mom also had a very unique way of telling us when we were in the shit.

If I’d been a bit of a naughty shit the day or night before…Mom would simply make me a beetroot sandwich for school lunch. Now, beetroot sandwiches are actually great freshly made. But, leave them in your lunchbox for the four hours between leaving home and lunch break and, well, by the time you whip them out to eat them… all you have is a pink, soggy mess. That was generally enough to let me know I’d been a bit of a shit. Trust me, having your school friends look at you askew because you’ve got soggy pink bread for lunch, makes you feel distinctly UNcool and it works pretty darn well.

I digress…

When it comes to discipline, when it comes to rules, when it comes to the “no, you can’t” and “yes, you can” debate for Cam…I’m not all that conventional.

I’m not a smacker. I have a simple rule on this, if she smacks someone, I’ll smack her hand. Undoubtedly, I’ll kiss it better and give her a love afterwards but, I will never smack my child in anger. I can’t do it. It’s just not me. And that’s not me being weak, that’s me knowing that that’s how I want to raise my child.

When it comes to enforcing a rule though. I’m a shouter.

Now, in our house, our rules are not conventional. The primary rule in our house is bedtime. And I will shout about it, if I have to. Generally though, I win before I have to shout. I’m a negotiator, true, and I believe that gentle reminders for about half an hour before bedtime make things easier.. “after this Gummi Bears, it’s bedtime, okay?” generally garner a very cute “okay” response and there’s not much hassle beyond there. Face it, No kid likes to be told it’s time to go to bed, fuck, I hated being told it. But, it has to happen. And it does. Most of the time.

Oi, nobody’s perfect and anyone who says they are is simply another one of those things I cannot stand – a liar. =)

So, in our house and our lives, we don’t have the “eat at the table; children should be seen and not heard; no, you can’t wear a ballgown to school; dessert is only for after dinner” rules. We have good ones. Cameron is a stickler for please and thank you and is learning, very well, how to share. We don’t care about drawing on the walls, as long as it’s crayon. We don’t care about paint, as long as it’s on the sheet and not on the carpet and yes, we can throw stuff in a bowl and make a big mess and pretend to bake. Yes, on the floor. No, I don’t care if it makes a mess.

Someone pretty random in my life that I went to school with, Wendy, taught me a critical life lesson about child-raising many, many years ago. She, in passing, whilst we were sitting at a soccer game (don’t ask questions just accept, people…) said to me: “having three kids is hard. But I just don’t worry about anything that a shower or a good cloth can fix”.

I can never thank her enough for saying that. I am anal about cleaning the house. But, when it comes to Cam’s mess, I let her have her mess.

And, funnily enough, it’s Cam who says “Mommy, I want to clean” or “Mommy, I want to wash the dishes”. She knows that mess means cleaning up afterwards. Most of the time. Again, Nobody’s perfect, and anyone who says they are is, you guessed it, a liar.

So, yeah, Rules. Mine aren’t normal. But, yes, I’m a shouter. A big one.  I am not scared to raise my voice to make my point when trying to cajole a three year old away from a tantrum.

So, if you ever see a short lady walking down the street holding the hand of a little girl wearing wellington boots and a fairy princess dress whilst they sing and eat ice cream BEFORE dinner, that’s us.

Living our lives our way, thanks very much.

vindication.

vindication. windication. however it sounds, i am happy this morning.

you see, blog, there’s a few things i want to update you on, without being specific. Cryptic generally being my key, right? Right.

So, here goes.

I’ve been battling with something for quite some time. Something I invited into my life and when it finally became apparent that it was supremely not me, it reacted. Badly. Very badly indeed.

It led me to a point of self-doubt and concern and well, let’s be blunt, plain fear.

It isolated me from people, it lost me some credibility, it lost me some things and above all, it lost me some people along the way. It led to me having shit smeared straight through my life. It nearly lost me, me.

It has required a lot of courage and grit to get through it. Oh, yes, just to clear this up, I am not talking about any kind of addiction. This battle centered on a person.

But, as of yesterday, I believe I am finally free.

And yesterday, when the freedom’s sunrise dawned on my face, I cried and I danced around the lounge.

I am finally free of this battle. Moreover, I am vindicated. The doubt some people had been bestowed with a result of this, had led me to doubt myself. To stumble over my own words, and to have me begin to lose faith in myself. I understood why certain people doubted me, I did.

At some points along the way, I gave up hope. I faltered and cried and really didn’t want to go on.

But there were people beside me all the way who believed in me even on days when I did not. There were feathers left upon my path that kept me smiling and focused.

I want to thank those people.

My daughter, for her courage. Above all things.
My bestest friends, who dealt with insults and slander themselves too and who inspired me to carry on fighting for my good name, and that includes you, youknowwhoyouare. Anne, Will, Galaxian, Larcy, Cwaig, NotKay, GMA, SBL, JaR, RR, DR, Mr K, MDA, GMTT, NJR, SH, BM, MS and all the members of my army.
My family.
My flatmate, for making me laugh at the patheticness of it all.
A particular person for believing in me, so very much. I would never be here right now were it not for him.

And, yesterday, there it was. My vindication in a percentage. In the words of someone of whom I am quite fond: “Egg, Face, Alignment”.

I am filled with an intense sense of gratitude this morning. I have turned up “don’t dream it’s over” by the house. I never thought I would be able to play this song and smile and know that it is now over.

Finally, I am not dreaming.

It is over.

Don’t dream it’s over – Crowded House.

There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There’s a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you’ll never see the end of the road
While you’re travelling with me

Hey now, hey now
Don’t dream it’s over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us
We know they won’t win

Now I’m towing my car, there’s a hole in the roof
My possessions are causing me suspiscion but there’s no proof
In the paper today tales of war and of waste
But you turn right over to the T.V. page

Now I’m walking again to the beat of a drum
And I’m counting the steps to the door of your heart
Only shadows ahead barely clearing the roof
Get to know the feeling of liberation and relief

Hey now, hey now
Don’t dream it’s over
Hey now, hey now
When the world comes in
They come, they come
To build a wall between us

26 letters of demographic data

.26 letters of demographic data.
.for the end of 27 years.
.for the beginning of 28 years.

(thanks to franklywrankles for the original idea that spawned this)

As I said to Will this morning whilst commiserating with him via text message about some of the strange places out there in the BWW (Big Wide World), the day of the great life think month has begun. It does not scare me as much as it has in previous years.

The sun rose this morning, making it’s little rainbow island of cloud along the horizon. Orange and blue and black inbetween. A little yellow spreading out towards the buildings.

And, there I was, smiling. Listening to someone notsosmallanymore talk about how she IS wearing her gumboots to school and “no, i am not wearing that shirt today mommy, it’s the same as emma’s and I can’t wear the same shirt as her! She’s my friend and I love her but no, that would suck a bit”.

I sat there, smiling at the sunshine, smiling at this person who, three years before, was still within my belly, making me ginormous and watermelon-like. And trust me, people, I have photos you will never see, I was massive. If you think I walk funny now…

Anyway, I digress. I was listening to Cameron and pondering the usual “Holy crap. Three years and now you’re telling me what you think your wardrobe should consist of!” thoughtbrain. And there it was, unaccountably and unexpectedly, the great prebirthday month-think had begun. The part where I send Will this message: “I think it’s time for me to evaluate the year”.

I will, definitely, be wearing the tiara this year. 🙂

It’s funny, really. If you had told me, on this day, one year ago, that I would be any of the 26 things below, I would never have believed you….

a. Living with Shebee. Seriously. Dudes. This rocks my world.

b. Loving Mommyhood every day more and more and more and more until I could actually burst.

c. Relatively healthy and continuing. (actually, on that score, ALOT healthier, lest we forget the HOLY SHIT ITS A KIDNEY INFECTION AND BJORK COPIES ME incident of last year)

d. More open to sharing the MommyMe with the world (I never thought that would happen, to be honest. I even remember saying to Buddy once, “SocialCath and MommyCath just don’t mix”. It turns out, I was wrong. They’re really the same person now). I’m not afraid of letting people join in the craziness of domestic life with Cath anymore. Chocolate and Donkeys inclusive.

e. Missing Larcy as much as I do. I would never have been able to tell from that crazy Everton/Man United game, that, from that, would spring so much resonation.

f. Entirely free of certain previously influential forces that come in the shape of people.

g. That I’d be dancing in the rain with the most beautiful man in the whole world.

h. More powerful, and willing to use it for myself. And I say that without ego. It used to take me a year to get over a seemingly personal affront. The time it takes me to get past something grows shorter. I’m realising what should be significant and what should be ignored.

i. Not feeling guilty for calling a Time Out when I need CathTime.

j. An aunty again. I am so blessed with love from the little girls in our family. Aunty Caff, indeed.

k. Still living where I live and loving it. With its idiosyncracies and crazy people (not just the ones that live within the walls).

l. Wiser. I thought I’d learnt enough. Turned out, life had a few lessons it had for me still. And that, not only, would I be saddened by them, but, in retrospect, am so glad they happened. Even if it did leave me lying on the lounge floor again.

m. Learning more and more about resilience from my child. The wisdom of a nearly three-year old is unparallelled, people. Seriously, let’s put the pre-schoolers in government. We’d do a lot better, I think.

n. Finally realising that I have been “missing the rapture this whole time of being forever incomplete”. Finally realising the rapture of every day. Every second. Every “little smile” and every rainbow sunshine.

o. Somehow, finally, getting beyond the cloud of self-doubt that has pervaded me for so long. So so so long. I’m not saying that I am without self-doubt, I believe it can drive me sometimes to do better, climb higher and be more. But, I am saying, that it’s not reigning me as much as it once did.

p. That my best friends may not be on the telephone every day. But that they do exist. This not having to be seen; to see; to be; all the time routine, is really very liberating.

q. That I wouldn’t be on Facebook. That’s a big one for me.

r. Sumup of the above two points – the learning to live my life without having to exhibit it all the time. Holy God, is that maturity on some level? I just find honest, direct communication much more meaningful nowadays. Holy God, that is some semblance of maturity.

s. I didn’t think that would happen.

t. Even more so, I didn’t think that it would happen and, not only would I be happy about it, but exhilarated and liberated by it.

u. Less afraid of being open. Truly open. And finding it, also, liberating and exciting.

v. Having Gladys. I was so sure I was doomed to a life of going to work in unironed pants. I never knew the richness she would bring to my life, that goes well beyond my ironed pants.

w. Able to feel strong and not feel the need to shut people out to do so. Does that make sense? It does to me. To be able to feel strong in a room of people is new to me. To be able to feel strong not in a room of people is also new to me. Does that make any sense at all? Do I care? No.

x. Learning and realising and living the theory that the little steps really are the big ones. I always kept my eye on the big steps and felt unaccountably unable to take them. So I wouldn’t take any. I realise now how silly I was in some instances.

y. Realising that everyone can teach you something. Yes, even the people ignoring you.

z. That, truly, the people in my life are the ones who want to be here. That being vulnerable with them is okay. That they’re okay with me being vulnerable, and that they know I’m okay with them being vulnerable.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 more thankful than ever.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 with a fuller heart.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 without bitterness.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 with less telephone numbers stored on my phone.

If you had told me a year ago that my life would be simpler and funnier.

If you had told me a year ago that this year would be 1996 again.

If you had told me a year ago that I would be dancing more every day than I ever have.

If you had told me a year ago that I would walk away from 27 holding the hand of someone I had not yet met, and that they would be the most supremely beautiful man in the world…..

I would never have believed you.

But, trust me, I believe you.

we will dance again – for moose and bean.

i swear and cry and grate

you worry and fumble and wish it all away

we will dance again

i scream and throw and punch myself in the stomach

you shake and huddle and try to think of the better day

we will dance again

i love and hate and remember nothing good

you seethe and smash and can’t quite sum up why we are here

we will dance again

i yell at nothing and drive nails into walls

you hold my hand and direct the hammer

we will dance again

i battle to speak and lose all my coherence

you smile and hope it’s not a grimace

we will dance again

thank you for keeping my feet firm grounded

we will dance again