Saturday, July 18, 2015

Why reading is bad for my sleep

I love to read.  Sometimes I get busy with life and forget that I love to read, but then I open a new book and the familiar feeling comes back to me and I remember why I stay up late when the house is asleep to read 'just to the end of this chapter' knowing perfectly well that this chapter will turn into another....and then another. 

I am currently reading The Book Thief.  I refuse to watch the movie until I have read the book.  I like to create the characters in my mind, and then if the movie differs, I can still watch knowing my imagination got it right, not some movie director.  When I watch a movie first, my imagination is limited to what I saw on the screen.

I'm not far from the end of The Book Thief and I'm a little sad at the thought of finishing. It's always a little depressing, like saying goodbye to a friend in some weird way.  And then there is the unsettling feeling that I may not find a book as good as this one.  I always do, but it concerns me for a moment there. 

This particular book is set in Nazi Germany.  I have a bit of a fascination with the goings-on of this time.  It's plays on my mind long after I close my book shut for the night.  I am left with confusion and questions.

How can people do this to one another? 

How was this allowed to happen?

Why didn't more people step up and band together to stop the monstrosity? 

I couldn't have just watched on.  Surely I would have done something, or said something.  At least I hope I would.

Isn't someone who watches on as such evil acts take place not much better than the one who commits them?

I feel some weird kind of anger at the people in my imagination that they watched on as their neighbours, old friends, acquaintances were treated worse than animals.  I can't explain it, but I'm frustrated with their cowardice.  I couldn't have stood by watching this go on.

But what could I have done?

If I spoke up, wouldn't I have been at risk?  That doesn't matter, I could feel good about risking my life by standing up for the right.

My thoughts don't stop here though.

What if by speaking up my family are put in harms way? What if it meant my children would be made to suffer? I can't risk my children's lives.  If it meant I was keeping my children safe then perhaps I am better off keeping quiet.......

And it's too late.  I realise I am one of them.  And I'm strangely disappointed in myself because I thought I was different, but my moment of pause and justification shows that I am no different. I was angry at them, but maybe I am one of them.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Hot damn

In the past few weeks, I have been blessed with a new baby nephew, and 2 baby nieces.  Two of my sisters and my sister-in-law all gave birth fairly close together and our family is growing.  Well, our extended family is growing, our own little family of four is going to remain a family of four. 

A few years back when we received the "no more children for you" news, I was pretty shocked and disappointed.  We decided that down the track, adoption could be an option.  

Now that we are down that track, I can tell you I have zero desire to have another baby.  I love babies, really I do, but I remember hearing that when you are done with having babies you will just 'know' and I now know how that feels.  I look at a baby and it makes me all warm and fuzzy, but I do not want one of my own anymore.  My baby is seven.  I am out of that phase and my body is perfectly happy getting to stay horizontal for 8 hours a night. 

When I say my baby is seven, he is actually seven going on seventeen with his interest in girls at the moment.  We have had to have a after an embarrassing experience last week. 

Anthony had a full week out every day from early in the morning til late afternoon, and Tony was at a friends house so Tarts and I went on a little 'date'.  Seeing as I can't drive STILL, we took a bus and train to Yoghurtland, and then a train and bus home.  On the bus on the way home he sat on a seat away from me and had a girl with her mum near him.  The girl looked about 13.  
He calls across the bus to me whilst pointing at the girl:

"HEY MUM!! Look at her - SHE'S HOT!!!

I tried to ignore him but he continued to yell out to me and just to make sure there was no doubt as to who he was referring to, he had his hand above her head pointing a finger down at her and called out;

"Mum! Look at this girl, she is definitely hot!"

I couldn't save the situation.  The damage was done and there was nothing I could do about it.  So when our stop came up next (thankfully), I hopped off the bus quick smart.  I explained to Carter that what he said wasn't very polite and then I asked if he even knew what 'hot' meant.  He paused to think then said;

"It means pretty.....and sexy."

Well colour me gob smacked.  Whilst a very accurate description, it wasn't exactly what I want to hear from my seven year old. I suggested that in future, he stick with 'pretty' if he sees a girl he likes.

Well a few days have passed and wherever we go, Carter is on the look out for girls. He points out 'pretty' girls to me constantly.  In Timezone, in Coles, in church, at MacDonalds, on the bus.....pretty much anywhere.  

Just yesterday we were lining up at McDonalds to get a drink, and the girl who served us obviously caught his attention as he tapped me on the leg and announced;

"Hey Mum, that girl is pretty.  I think she is really pretty and I think I'm in love!  Ooh, just look at her!  She is HOT!  I mean pretty, she is pretty mum."

I'm glad he has taken my words to heart but holy moly, he is only seven and already we are having to deal with this kind of stuff.  Thankfully Tony is taking things a little slower and although he has an emerging interest in girls, he is taking it at a more reasonable pace. 

Look out ladies, Carter is on the lookout!