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.

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 little...chat 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! 

Public transport activist

I was waiting at the bus stop a few weeks back when an older gentle man approached the stop to look at the bus schedule.  Actually 'gentleman' might not be the right term, as he looked rather rough and ready but had a kind smile.  I smiled back and told him the next bus should be there any minute as it hadn't come yet but was due to arrive a couple of minutes ago.  

Somehow, we got chatting.  He was gruff, but a nice fellow.  It was plain to see he had seen his share of tough times, some self inflicted and some not, but I found him endearing. 

After mentioning he had six daughters who he didn't hear from very much, and that those daughters had three different mothers but that he was single after all that, he left me with one piece of advice. 

He stated very matter-of-faculty;

"Trust me, do not get married."

I chuckled a little and said his advice has come a bit late. He nodded knowingly and said;

"Ahhh, a newlywed huh?"

I smiled and informed him we have been married ten years now and have two beautiful sons. He commented on my age and then told me that ten years is something he never managed. He then asked me what was our secret. 

I found that weirdly uncomfortable.  Being asked by someone so much older than me for marriage advice.  I actually don't know what I said at all.  But I have found myself thinking about this exchange since.  

I am incredibly happily married, and I am more aware than ever that that is a rare thing.  Our relationship is very real.  We have our 'off' days, and our days when one of us is doing a lot more than the other because the other hasn't got much to give that day. 

 We fight.  Not crazy screaming matches, but we certainly don't always see eye to eye, and that's ok.  I can recall about six weeks ago we argued over math.  Like actual math, which neither of us are particularly good at.  It's funny to me now because it's so ridiculous, but I also know it wasn't about  math really, it was about one of us not feeling listened to and the other not feeling understood.  And that is why it's ok that we fight sometimes, because we are able to sort things through and get to the bottom of it without it being scarring.  In fact, we seem to end up stronger somehow.

My main 'secret' is that Anthony is my best friend in every way possible.  He is my favourite person to spend time with and he truly loves me, the me who is daggy and in my pj's at three in the afternoon.  He loves the real me. How can you not be happy with that! 

I feel as though I have marriage the way it was intended to be - a joy, a support, a challenge a very small percent of the time, and a safe place to grow.  Perhaps that's why my bus buddy couldn't give his recommendation to matrimony, he hasn't yet found what I feel so lucky to have.

My name is Earl

Anthony and I went through a phase where we loved the show "My Name is Earl".  We watched every episode.  For those who aren't overly familiar with the show, Earl is a low-life who through a weird set of occurrences adopts the belief that if he does good things, good things will happen, but if he does bad things, bad things will happen to him.  His belief in Karma leads him to making a list of all the bad things he has done in his life and he sets out trying to make up for all of them. 

Earl and I share a couple of things in common. Firstly, karma has come back to bite him in the bum.  My previous blog post demonstrates how karma has taken care of me recently also.  Secondly, Earl cannot for the life of him take a photo with his eyes open.  Throughout the series, he tries, but it never happens. 

Over the past few years, I have realised I have the exact same problem!  Upon becoming aware of my inability to keep my eyes open at the right moment, despite everyone around me in the photo being able to do it, I have since earned the nick-name Earl when referring to photographs of me.  

I have had a quick look to provide evidence of this problem, and as you will see, this has been an issue since birth for me.

(This may look like a typical baby-sleeping-photo, but there is a good chance I was actually wide awake and the curse had already begun manifesting itself already)

(My baptism - not being particularly reverent or anything, just bad timing.  Note the rest of the people in the photo with me all seem to have their eyes open)

          EARL GOES ON HOLIDAY

            EARL GETS MARRIED

        EARL GOES TO WEDDINGS

   EARL TAKES A GROUP SHOT

And these are just the few I have close by. But it seems I have passed on the curse to my children too.  

I'm just trying to be a better person. My name is Earl. 

Rats, ladders, and karma....oh my!

We have pet rats.  I know some people are repulsed by the little critters, but they are great little starter pets. I had pet rats growing up and they are very social and intelligent.  We got two boys and Tony named his Corey, and Carter named his Ambrose. You can train pet rats to do tricks, although so far we have only worked on coming when their name is called.  This trick has come in handy lately, but more on that later.

You know how sometimes seeing someone trip over is funny....you feel bad and concerned for them, but it's funny at the same time? Well YouTube has made laughing at others misfortune much easier and makes me look less like a jerk as it's not in public where I can be judged for laughing at others.  

However, KARMA is still judging me and last week took matters into her own hands.

Anthony showed me this silly little video and the first time I watched it, I chuckled.  But I watched it a couple more time and it had me cracking up. You have to see it a couple if times to appreciate it, and to appreciate my plight.

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=DlgYQwf1Pug

Fast forward a few days and Tony's rat Corey was missing. I went to feed them just after lunch and he was gone.  He has the amazing ability to escape from his cage no matter what I do. He squeezes through the bars, then when I get new mesh to cover the bars, he chews through it, then I get stronger mesh and he chews through the cable ties holding the mesh on. He generally just runs around the garage/rumpus room and there isn't far he can go so it hasn't been a big drama. 

But this time, I called out to him like I usually do and he didn't come running out to me from his assortment of hiding places. 

Tony was due home in an hour so I got to searching. Finally I had the idea to check the roof.  I didn't think it was likely, but what if he had climbed up the walls and got into the roof? We have a little man hole at the end of our hall so in the name of motherly-duty, I braced myself to go break the barrier between our home and whatever lies up in our roof - whether it be just dust and cobwebs or a whole colony of cockroaches I had no idea. 

I dragged our ladder from the shed and made it into a 'M' shape as I wanted two steady foot platforms instead of one.  I was all set and ready to go and stepped into the centre step of my ladder and quickly learned my ladder was not properly locked into place as it shut right on both my shins.  I couldn't move as my legs  were  trapped inside the closed ladder whilst I was still up off the ground. Aside from the pain, all I could think about was that stupid YouTube video and how ironic is was that I was laughing at that poor fellow injuring himself after not locking his ladder in place, and here I was trapped in a ladder for the exact same reason. 

I managed to get one of my shoes off and with some effort I pryed it out of the ladder. Aside from some nice matching bruises, I'm otherwise unscathed. 

I psyched myself up to brave the ladder again and after checking (and re-checking) the ladder positioning, up I went.  I called out to Corey and after a few minutes, a little face peered down at me. Our one trick paid off!

Our rats are safe and sound (for now) and I have received a healthy dose of humility.https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=DlgYQwf1Pug#

Not the marrying kind

The weather on the coast was wild last week.  We lost power for five days (and subsequently most the food in our freezer and fridge), and the boys got an extra week of holidays due to the storm damage.  

When we realised the power would likely be out for a while, we bailed and headed down to Sydney to Anthony's parents place.  

On the way down, we had a chat with the boys about their Aunty's wedding, which was happening in a few days time.  The conversation turned to what kind of person they wanted to marry.  Specifically what qualities they were looking for. 

Carter piped up first and said;

"I want to marry someone who likes rugby and knows how to play rugby.  Maybe even a rugby coach."

Aside from being weird, it's a pretty narrow list of specifications.  

Tony chimed in with;

"I want to marry someone who can cook and make the foods I like.  Oh, and someone who can clean."

This just made me think Tony wants a maid, not a spouse.  But then, he thought a bit harder and felt the need to add to his list. He said;

"Also, and no offence Mum, but maybe someone with....you know.....less broken bones.  And no seizures.  So then they can do more stuff."

I couldn't hold in my laughter.  

Sure son, no offence taken....none at all !!

In the trenches

My boys have lots of cousins being born this year.  Five to be exact - unless anyone wants to announce something to increase that figure.  

Earlier this week, I took Carter to his six monthly paediatrician appointment.  Carter has a lot of appointments.  He had three this week and that is fairly typical for him.  This appointment his doctor asked whether we wanted to do further genetic testing by referring Carter to a geneticist.  He has had genetic screening done to help determine the cause of his developmental issues, but this test only screens for the more common genetic conditions and came up with nothing.  

The therapies and treatment will likely stay the same, but it would be good to know we have done all we can to find answers.  The doctor also pointed out it is worth checking to see if there is a genetic cause for any future children we may have.  

I quickly explained we aren't planning any more children as we have been advised my spine isn't stable enough and it would  mean a very difficult life for our family.  We are okay with this and although it wasn't what we planned a decade ago, we feel blessed to have Tony and Carter.

Later that afternoon, I realised we are past the 'young children' phase of life now.  We don't have babies or toddlers and won't again.  Our 'baby' is seven years old.  It hit me a little hard as I came to the realisation we are in a different stage of parenting now.  

I know each parenting stage will come with it's own challenges and learning curves, but now that we don't have babies or toddlers in our house, I feel like we have climbed out of the trenches.  That was what parenting young children felt like - being in the trenches.  You are exhausted, unshowered, covered in food or bodily fluids, and trying to survive.  It's rough! 

But there is also this weird comraddery that unites you with other parents of little ones.  You just 'get' each other.  You make eye contact in the supermarket, or the park, or the doctors waiting room, and with mutually glazed eyes and matching dark circles and 'Mum pony tails', you know you are battling the same war.  The fight against laundry and dishes in the quest for sleep. 

But there is also so much joy.  Amongst the hardship, you are making and raising people! That's pretty awesome.  The very idea that we create and mold little versions of ourselves is crazy when you think about it. Little people who love and adore you and place you on a ridiculously high pedestal until they get old enough to see that you are indeed only human.  We are in this stage now - they now know we are capable of mistakes.  We aren't their whole world anymore, we share their hearts with teachers and friends etc.

I love that we can tuck our boys in now and know we probably won't hear from them for a good eight hours because they sleep through the night.  I love that we can leave the house without a half hour of preparation.  I love not having to buy nappies (not wipes though, I can't see me ever not buying wipes - they are a multi-purpose wonder).  A part of me will miss the baby and toddler stage that is now a part of our past, because it is witnessing a miracle grow and develop right before your eyes.  The intense blend of love and exhaustion is a unique experience I wouldn't trade for anything.

But we are past that now.  We are sticking our head up out of the trenches and seeing what the world of parenting has in store for us next.