Social Hibernation

I have been MIA lately it would seem.  Actually, I think I would better describe it as some sort of social hibernation.  I'm not certain this term explains it well, but I know its something I do from time to time - I just sort of 'check out' of certain aspects my life for a little bit.

I sometimes feel guilty that during this time I'm probably not the greatest friend to have as you wont see much of me, but at the same time I'm not sorry for my decision as it is necessary for me.  One of the main reasons I am temporarily absent from the life of my friends at times, is I am trying to take care of myself so I can be the wife and mother I want and need to be.  It has taken me years to get to the point where I understand that for me, this means that sometimes I really need to quieten my life down so I have opportunities for adequate rest and to be able to spend real quality time with my family that I desire so much.  They are my people and they deserve the best of me; not the cranky, short-tempered me that appears when I stretch myself too thin and end up exhausted and in more pain than I know how to handle.  

Part of the joy that comes with age is greater self awareness and assurance.  I am better aware of what I am capable of and know that sometimes, its not much.  I fight against it, but I'm slowly realizing that for me, much of my happiness comes from not feeling overwhelmed and over-scheduled.  I know many people who handle a busy schedule really well, and others who even enjoy being super busy, but I am not one of those people.  I LOVE seeing a day without any doctors appointments or therapies.  I relish knowing I will have dinner finished before the boys all finish school and work so we can spend time together without me shooing people out from under my feet in the kitchen.  I love being able to climb into bed at 8:30pm at night and not be so sore that it will take me hours to get to sleep.

I am incredibly boring in this way, but keeping my life simple brings me immense joy.

I'm not always socially present simply because my body doesn't always let me and sometimes the choice is between being a good friend or a good mother - and for me, that decision makes itself very easily.  This doesn't reflect the love I have for my friends, rather how I can't be "me" without being "Mum" to my boys - they are so intertwined I can't be one without the other.

So to all of you out in the online world who have seen little of me lately, please know you still have my heart, you have not been replaced, I'm not seeing other friends, and it's totally not you - it's me.  I have a dud body that demands my attention, two little men who are my highest priorities, and a best friend/husband who I never get sick of being around, but I am still here.

A big old 21st to remember

My youngest sister turned 21 today.  That's a rather big milestone in life.  For most it means a big drunken party, but for Rachael it will be celebrated differently.  She is currently 2 weeks from finishing serving an 18 month mission for our church.  

Whilst thinking of her throughout the day, it made me reflect on my own 21st birthday.  Mine too was rather different from a traditional 21st party.

I got pregnant at 20. I wasn't drunk when it happened, seeing as I had never had as much as a sip of alcohol. It wasn't a one-night-stand gone wrong.  I was a Uni student with virtually no money to my name, but it was completely intentional. 

I had gotten married less than two months earlier to my sweetheart, Anthony, and after that long five weeks, we decided we were sick of the joy and spontaneity that comes with being newlyweds - we needed a baby. Everyone knows nothing brings a couple closer than sleep deprivation, crying, and vomit. 

And that was just my pregnancy.

Being young and stupid, we couldn't contain our excitement when that second line appeared on the pregnancy test and we called our families straight away. I know the 'done' thing is to wait until after the twelve week mark when the risk of miscarriage is greatly lessened, but we didn't really consider that as something that would happen to us (see - stupid) so we announced it immediately. I gloated that I had no morning sickness and felt great. 

Then at the six week mark, what was  up until then a beautiful, developing baby inside my belly, turned into an alien trying to destroy me via my up-chuck reflex. I was vomiting multiple times a day and just wanted to sleep constantly.   

I could only stand the smell of mandarins, oranges, and carrots.  I vividly recall going to do a weekly grocery shop and walking past the Deli aisle in the supermarket holding an orange up to my nose so I wouldn't vomit.  I left the shop with what was supposed to be seven days worth of food - six kilos of oranges, two kilos of mandarins, two kilos of carrots, lemonade, and juice ice blocks.

Society frowns upon men who leave their pregnant wives within three months of marriage so it was shortly after this point we made an important purchase - an X-Box.  Seeing as I was going to bed at 7pm each night it seemed only fair Anthony had some company. 

Whilst pregnant, I celebrated a milestone; I turned twenty-one. Like most twenty-one year olds, I too celebrated my coming into adulthood with my head in a toilet bowl. It wasn't senseless amount of alcohol that inflicted my vomiting though - it was my first born child. 

Anthony was fairly useless when it came to morning sickness and I would find myself yelling for him to;

"Go away! You aren't helping me if you vomit in my hair while you are supposed to be holding it back!"

I praise him for his efforts, but he has a ridiculously weak stomach when it comes to the sound and smell of vomit.  Probably not a good sign when you are months from expecting a baby and cleaning all manor of bodily fluids become a part of everyday life. 

It was around this point in time that it hit me how different my life was from many of my peers.  I was still a full-time Uni student, I still worked part time in a supermarket, but I was a wife and mother. My child was yet to take it's first real breath, but I was a mother nonetheless. These were the things I had hoped for when people asked me the big question;

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

My answer was always;

"I think I want to be a teacher, but most of all I want to be a wife and a mother."

So here I was - just turned twenty-one and what I had hoped for had already fallen in my lap.  I guess there isn't a better 21st present than that right :)

More than happiness

I have had a few different opportunities over the last couple of days to think about what the future holds for my boys.  I have read articles and posts about the state of the world, and about raising children.  In conversations with other mothers who have children with additional needs, I often express how even though there may be lots of uncertainly in what the future holds, all I truly want is my boys to be happy.  I think I have even written that in a past blog post just a few months ago.

I have changed my tune though.  

So, to my maniac boys....

My dear Tony and Carter,

In case I am struck by lightning suddenly or fall into a man hole and am never seen again, I want to put some words to you on paper (virtual paper - obviously). 

I know I have told you often that we parent the way we do because we just want you to be happy.  You don't always like our decisions, but we make them believing they will truly bring you joy in the long run.  I tell you all I want at the end of the day is you to be happy.

I would like to change this.  

Above all else, I want you to be kind boys.  And ultimately kind men. 

I know that around you people are praised for being good leaders, for obtaining great wealth, for reaching prestige and fame, for being amazingly intelligent, and the list goes on. 

These aren't bad things.  They aren't even bad things to strive for.  Good leaders do a great deal of good.  They can set a fine example for others to follow.   

Great wealth sometimes only comes after hard work.  Money is not an evil thing.  In fact having additional means can allow you to bless the lives of others through looking for opportunities to help those in need.  There have been times in my life where people have given some of their means to us at particular times and I will never forget the love I felt for these people for their selflessness.

 Prestige and fame may come for negative reasons, but they can also come for positive reasons.

  Intelligence is a wonderful thing, particularly when we measure it as more than how well one performs on an exam. There are many ways to be intelligent and I hope you desire to learn as much as you can in as many areas as you can.

I don't want to imply that I would be unhappy if these things came to you in your lives. 

Make no mistake though, if these things are not part of your future, I will still be ridiculously proud of you if I see you to have become kind men. 

Look for opportunities to show kindness to those around you.  I know that kindness is already a part of you, but please don't allow that soft, gentle side to be replaced by a thick skin that seeks to "look after number one".  Putting what you want above others all the time will not bring you great joy. It won't create lasting memories.  It won't help you build satisfying relationships.  Think of others.  Build them up.  If you have a kind thought about someone - tell them.  If it's not kind - consider holding your tongue until you can express it in a better way. 

If you see someone who is alone or on the outter, include them.  It's a horrible feeling being left out-whether intentional or not.  Perhaps one of the kindest thing a young person can do for another is to help them feel like they belong.  There will always be enough room for a new friend if you make it.

I have heard the term "too kind" being used for people who may get taken advantage of.  I don't think you can actually be TOO kind.  So as well as being kind to others, I want you to be kind to yourselves.  You deserve good things that come when you work for them.  You should have fun and laughter with those you love.  You will sometimes have to put your needs first to be able to support yourself and your loved ones.  This is not selfish.  This is knowing that sometimes you need to take care of yourself to again be in a position to give to others.  

Be a kind husband.   Look to your Dad and Grandfathers.  There is no doubt they love their wives.  They lift them up.  They tell them they are beautiful.  They show gratitude to them.  Not a day has gone past in a decade of marriage that your Dad hasn't thanked me for making his lunch or dinner for him.  It may seem small, but knowing I am appreciated has made it a pleasure to do these tasks daily for him.  A frequent kind word of gratitude and appreciation has turned what could be a chore into a pleasure.  Learn the power of kind words in your marriages. 

Ultimately, I do want you to be happy.  It's only natural for mothers to want their children to find happiness.  However, above all else I want you to be kind because I truly believe that if you are kind, you will likely be happy.  Not fleeting happiness, but the kind of contentment where you know you are living a life that you can feel good about and one that helps others feel good too. 

The world has enough who are wealthy, famous, or powerful.  It will never have enough who are kind.  

Weird things I have eaten

About two weeks ago, I reached a milestone in my life. I ate my first snail.  It will likely also be my last.  I'm not even slightly adventurous with my eating habits so before eating said snail, I had already decided that mollusks aren't my kind of delicacy. 

A kind friend of mine took me to a French restuarant for a post-birthday celebration.   She bravely ordered snails as an entree. Once they arrived, I watches her try one with admiration.  She then turned of me and said that now that I am 30, I need to be able to say I have tried a snail.  Without a moments hesitation I shook my head, but there was still a snail on a fork in front of my face. 

My friend tried to convince me by saying;

"Just try it!  Just don't look at it.  Close your eyes if you have to. Open your mouth and look away, whatever you do, do not look at it!"

Anything that you have to close your eyes to eat doesn't sound like my kind of food.  But sometimes those big moments in life present themselves and we reach a fork in the road. We can travel down the path that feels safe and familiar but leaves little room for growth, or we can go down .........argh, what am I talking about - I ATE A SNAIL!!!

It wasn't particularly awful, just kind of what I would expect a snail to taste like. Less slimy though.  I didn't hate it, but I won't be eating many more in the future, mainly because snails seem kind of cute to me.  I always feel so awful when I accidentally step on one. 

This experience led me to make an unusual list in the 'Notes' app on my phone.  I have added items here and there as they come to my memory.  The list is;

"Weird Stuff I Have Eaten."

I shall now share my list with you (and delete it from my 'Notes' as it is a bit of an odd thing to do).

Weird Stuff I Have Eaten

1. A snail.  Let's call this my 'Birthday Snail'.

2.  Baby vomit.  I was playing with one of our boys when they were young and was lying on our bed 'flying' them over my head and as I was talking and laughing, vomit straight into my mouth.  It was a direct hit and resulted in my own vomiting.

3. Raw egg.   I tend to drink from cups that aren't mine.  If I'm thirsty and I see a glass, even a half full glass, I will drink it.  When I was younger, I saw what I thought was orange juice, only to find it was raw egg.

4.  Clay juice.  You would think I would have learned my lesson from the raw egg experience, but I did not.  As kids, we would sometimes go to the Speedway with our Dad.  My younger siblings would collect the chunks of clay that would fly over the guard rails as the cars sped around the corners and would roll them into balls.  For some bizarre reason, one of these clay balls ended up in a cup of water in the fridge.  Which I once again drank.

5.  Bark.  I cannot tell you how many times I have picked up what I thought was a bit of dropped chocolate off the floor and realised I was eating bark....or dirt....or who knows what else.  Why am I eating food off the floor??

6.  Sand.  This one has always appealed to me, but it turned into a real craving both times I was pregnant. I just wanted to eat sand.  I don't think it was the taste, more the texture.  I even filled a bottle with sand when we went to the beach, you know - just in case.

7.  A cockroach.  When I was a teenager, I awoke one night because I felt something in my mouth.  I freaked out and spat out whatever was in there and turned in the light to discover a large, disgusting, cockroach.  I'm pretty good with spiders and bugs, but cockroaches still gross me out. 

8.  A chunk of my big toe.  I had a friend sleeping over when I was in Year 3 and I covered the bathroom floor with water and soap to 'ice skate'.  I somehow managed to slice a chunk off the side of my big toe on the edge of the shower.  I know it was deep because it didn't bleed straight away, it just went all white, then the blood came.  It also barely hurt in the beginning.  

I thought it would be funny to gross out my friend by putting the chunk of toe on my tongue and chasing her.  She was indeed disgusted, but in my laughter, I accidentally swallowed it.

And this concludes my list.  For now anyway, there will no doubt be updates if I continue my reckless eating habits. 

Man hunting

After Anthony and I went on our first date - there was obviously a second. The fact that I am writing this story for all to read tells you it must have a happy ending.  I certainly wouldn't be telling this story if after our first date I heard wedding bells, but Anthony was repulsed by me. I am far too proud. Plus I'm so irresistible that of course there was a second date. 

Those early days are a bit of a blur but I can tell you they consisted of Anthony and I not leaving each other's side too often. So much so that there was in intervention of sorts held.

After my last blog post, it was brought to my attention that one evening whilst Anthony was at my house (of course), some of his siblings arranged a meeting to ask his parents to tell him he had hardly been home long after 2 years away and that he was spending very little time with them.  

Now, I must be less valued amongst my siblings as no one staged any meetings because they missed me. 

Clearly Anthony and I were together a lot from the get go.  I can't tell you exactly when, but after a couple of dates (and it may literally have been two - I can't remember aside from the fact it wasn't our first date), we went for a walk one evening. As I have mentioned in the past, I'm not very gutsy in making a move, but I also had no intention of waiting long to test out our chemistry in the...umm...lip vincinity, if you know what I mean. 

Whilst we were out walking around a nearby park where some sporting teams were training, Anthony grabbed my hand. That same night we were talking whilst at a playground and I remember thinking;

"Hurry up and kiss me!"

Call me impatient if you will, but good kissing chemistry mattered to me. I'm sure good kissing COULD be a 'practice makes perfect' sort of thing and that an awkward first kiss isn't the end of the world - but I needed to know if he had the goods in the kissing department. Yes, yes, I'm fickle that way.

I won't go into too much detail...except to say I planned on kissing those lips a lot more.

Anthony and I got engaged 5 months after our first date - I would have said 'yes' earlier.  I know by some peoples standards that is considered fast. Perhaps for some even too fast to know enough about someone to commit to a life together. But I said 'yes' anyway. 

If I am being honest, I would agree in some ways - perhaps you can't know enough about a person in 5 months to know whether or not there is a happily ever after in your future. Marriage is a risk - I have seen enough marriages end to know this much.  Some of those couples were together for many years before getting hitched, others engaged after only a few weeks, but I knew enough to know that I felt very lucky to be the one Anthony proposed to and confident that we had what it took to make a life together.

I had seen his love for his family and wanted that same love for myself and my future children.  I knew he would put my best interests ahead of his own as he would already carry my handbag around for me without my ever asking and I didn't know many guys who would risk the mockery that comes with carrying your girlfriends handbag for her. I knew he loved his sport and yelled at the TV and clapped loud and fast during intense moments in a game, but I could live with that.  I knew we were both home bodies who loved being at home and that if we spent a lifetime on the couch watching movies eating cheeseburgers and ice cream together, we would be happy.  I knew our taste in music and tv shows differed a lot, but we had time to find new shows and new music we could like together - or if all else failed we owned ear phones.  

 I knew that above all, I was loved - in the kind of way that you feel is enough for a lifetime. 

Meeting Mr. Right

I was drawn to Anthony the first time I laid eyes on him. Seriously. The absolute first time I saw him, he caught my eye . 

This made me feel somewhat guilty as I had a boyfriend at the time and it doesn't make you a very good girlfriend if you are attracted to what is no more than a stranger when you have a boyfriend.  Very bad, bad girlfriend! 

But I couldn't help it - I liked what I saw. 

I'm not one to do the chasing when it came to boys, but I'm also not one to play it cool either. Like, at all. Zero cool here. 

Anthony returned home to Sydney on Valentine's Day 2004. I moved to Sydney from Adelaide just two weeks earlier.  I remembered hearing it announced that there was going to be a welcome home breakfast for some guy at his house and the directions said to look out for the basketball hoop in the driveway. I had no idea who this guy was so figured it would be weird if I went and that my presence there welcoming him home would mean.....well, nothing.  So I didn't go. 

Had I actually gone, this would have been our first meeting. 

Fast forward two weeks and Anthony was speaking at our church. I saw him and decided then and there I was mighty interested in getting to know him. I had no plans on how to do this, but I was in the same room as him so that was a good start.

That night there was a young adult get together at a house near by. I went and was secretly hoping Anthony would be there. To my delight, both Anthony and his brother Drew came. I don't want to sound too stalker-esque, but I can tell you everything Anthony was wearing that night. Red Dickies t-shirt, cut off jean shorts, and black Havianas. Yeah, that is pretty creepy isn't it!

I know I am coming off as a massive desperado here, but I still hadn't said a single word to Anthony at this point. My description of the story thus far sounds like I was already writing wedding guest lists.  

We exchanged a few pleasantries that night but nothing earth shattering. The next day I came home from Uni to the news we were going to 'The Bush's' along with another new to the area family to play some games and get to know one another better. 

My Nana was visiting from Adelaide at the time. When Anthony's mum asked our family to organise a game to play that evening, Nana had some great suggestions. First she suggested 'Truth or Dare', and then she thought 'Spin the Bottle' might be a good idea.  It could have been fun, but the risk of having to kiss a stranger or my own brothers were deterrent enough for me so I squashed that idea quickly. 

Again, the psycho in me can tell you Anthony's outfit that night - light blue shirt, jeans, and black shoes with little brown stripes (I wasn't a fan of these shoes but he made it pretty easy to look past).  Anthony told a story that night and I remember him asking me a question that I had to make up some vague answer to as I wasn't really listening properly, just staring at him while he spoke. The more I was around him, the more I wanted to be around him. 

A few weeks passed and my boyfriend at the time came to visit. While he was here, there was a young adult meeting on at our church. I had to go a bit early for another meeting, but once my meeting was over, I sat with my boyfriend waiting for the main meeting to start. I realised here that I was watching the door hoping to see Anthony walk through it. When he did, I got up and ditched my boyfriend to go say 'hi'. I don't think I even told him where I was going! 

It was pretty clear to me that my heart was leading me elsewhere. I did feel guilty, but felt it would be foolish to ignore how I felt. 

Three days after my boyfriend left back to Adelaide to prepare for a trip overseas, Anthony and I went on a date the first time. We spent the whole night talking and I think when I walked through the front door in the early hours of the morning, I could of told you there was a strong possibility I could marry Anthony. 

He was smart, funny, and of course he wasn't too hard on the eye either. We shared common beliefs and values and I thought he would make a fantastic role model for my future sons to follow.  

Now just how to get my claws into him and convince him he couldn't bear to live a day without me. 

Call me Granny

I am about to hit a milestone in my life. In less than a week I turn the big 3-0!

It's not an achievement by any means on my part as I didn't actually do anything other than stay alive, but I do feel like it's one of those 'something birthdays'. Some birthdays are 'something birthdays' (such as 16, 18, 21, 40), and some are 'nothing birthdays' (like 23 and 27). I know it's ridiculous but that's my logic.

I'm not too worried about turning 30, aside from the fact I remember my Mum being 30 so whatever shortfalls I have I can no longer  console myself with the thought;

"Oh the boys are young and won't remember much of this age anyway."

They WILL remember. 

Already I see that 30 seems like a great age to be turning. It feels like around now I am really settled within myself. I am really comfortable with who I am and my interests, beliefs, decisions, relationships, and opinions. I am completely aware that I have shortcomings, but know that it's not the end of the world and as long as I am constantly trying to improve that the world won't come to an end because I made a mistake.

I know who I am as a wife. I know how much I treasure my marriage and recognise it as a true source of happiness and stability in my world. I also know my marriage is strong, but constantly evolving as is necessary in life.  We have faced hard things during the past decade, but I know where my strengths lie in our relationship, and where I rely on Anthony to help where I struggle. 

I am at the stage where I know what a REAL fairytale relationship is. There is no ball gowns, princes, or Fairy Godmothers.  For me it's more like dressing gowns, tickle fights, and fairy bread.  But I realise how blessed I am. I have a relationship that is wonderfully real. Real fairytale relationships have people who work hard to treat the other better than they treat anyone else because they want them to know they are treasured. There is two people who both know they are loved by the other every single day. They know they are loved even on the days they are harder to love. 

I know who I am as a Mother. I place this role as the most important work I will do, yet at the same time I need to be honest and say somedays my most important work is also the most tiring, frustrating, and difficult. At this stage I am learning that my role has changed and I am already having to tread the fine line of when to step in and when to step back. My instinct is still to grab the jug from Carter's hands when I see him pour a drink, but he reminds me he can do it himself so I step back and watch (with a cloth in hand all ready). 

We are getting some of the curlier questions from our boys now. Questions that make me realise how fast time is going as it feels too soon. I'm just glad they want to ask their dear old Mum and Dad still, as when my 40th rolls around, we will have an 18 year old and a 16 year old and I doubt my opinion will be sought quite so often.

I am much more comfortable with my views, beliefs, and opinions now.  Even just a few years back, I was much more reserved in expressing my opinions, but now see them to be worthy of expressing in a respectful manner and at an appropriate time. They aren't always right I'm sure, but come from thoughtful consideration and are a reflection of my experiences in the world. 

I'm also more comfortable to agree to disagree as I know it doesn't have to change my relationship with that person. Everyone's views are a result of personal experience and cannot be expected to align perfectly. How many wonderful perspectives would we miss out on if that was our expectation? 

I think the main difference I see from turning 20 to turning 30 is that I am more accepting of myself, and of the surprises life throws at me. I still stress at the unexpected, but at the same time I feel a quiet inner peace that tells me that no matter what curveballs have been thrown our way, we are still here and happy and stronger than ever.