Hate: A Waste of Time

I feel the need to rant a little. In fact to be honest this one has been building for a while. I mean I have all these good intentions to blog regularly but I'm soo busy at the moment that it just doesn't happen. Life has a tendency to get like that, what with working full time, writing a book or two, being a wife and mother and a convention junkie.

Now though is the time, I'm making time. Today I have some things to say about haters.

For crying out loud people why is gay marriage still a damn issue?

No seriously why?

I recently had the privilege of attending the wedding of two lovely ladies I work with and guess what? No smiting happened. Actually the opposite did, it had been a miserable couple of days weather wise but it stayed dry for their out of doors ceremony and when it came time to exchange their vows the sun came out from behind the clouds bathing them in glorious golden light. Make of that what you will haters.

Here's the way I see it, as long as it is between two consenting adults I don't care who you do in your bedroom or how. Why should I, it's none of my damn business and affects me in no way. I am not about to start picking my friends based on sexual preference.

In the spirit of honesty I wasn't always this clear about my opinions on this topic. I grew up a Christian in a time when faith was struggling with how to come to terms with this whole 'gay' thing, and they still are struggling. In fact I unwittingly pushed away a friend because I said to her that I didn't necessarily like her choice (I'd always known her to be straight or probably and more accurately trying to be straight), or understand it, but that didn't mean I wanted to stop being friends. For her it was who she was not some choice she made, back then I didn't really understand that.

Age and life can be a wonderful teacher if we let it.

I've always thought the biblical arguments to be faulty something other people have dealt with more eloquently than I could, so I won't deal with that here. (You can try here for one post I liked).

The thing is though there are so many more important issues we could be pouring time and money into. 

Domestic violence has killed women in the double figures already this year, but it gets only cursory mention every now and then.

Violence against women (in fact in general) seems disturbingly on the rise and so much of the media is focussed on how women shouldn't go places by themselves or out at night or any number of other things. The press and focus is on what the victims should and shouldn't do when surely it should be on the behaviour of the perpetrators. Earlier this year a 15 year old sexually assaulted a young woman on her way home during the day. He got a damn slap on the wrist, a punishment validated by the words (paraphrased) 'he is a young boy struggling with his lustful urges and his faith'. Um sorry what? 

What kind of message does that send? To me it says we are more concerned with to perpetrator than the victim. 

Yet gay marriage somehow seems like a bigger issue. It makes no sense to me.

But then haters make for more interesting news footage and their vitriol makes for better sound bites.

Then there is the whole Kaitlyn Jenner thing. Seriously why should I give a stuff. I care nothing for anything Jenner/Kardashian related. There are far more important things going on in the world than any word that could come out of any of their mouths, yet the amount of press generated by that family... the amount of money thrust at them could probably feed a starving country. 

Sure Kaitlyn's transformation got some discussion happening about transgender but really, was it only me who thought the focus very quickly shifted to some rubbish popularity thing. Very little helped or changed on the ground level for those living with transgender issues in their lives.

The struggle these families face everyday boggle my mind. The sheer range of emotionally charged things they need to consider are potentially shattering. Despite all this the focus of some is the selfishness of the parents 'pushing' their children towards unnatural decisions. The horror of our children being placed in a position that will allow them to be corrupted if we talk about these things openly. As adults we need to grow the heck up. There is an awful lot we can learn from kids, if we just let them teach us.

Have I talked about being gay with my kids? Yes. It went a little like this - 'Mum they are both girls', 'yes honey Grace has two mums, instead of having a boyfriend they are girlfriends,' 'oh, wierd, but okay'. And that was the end of that.

Have I talked to my children about transgender? Yes. It went like this. 'Mum I've invited these people to my party, *** is transgender', me - uh! And by the time my brain processed what had been said my child had walked off to do something else. Clearly this is something she thinks is worthy of concern. In fact her only concern is that her friend has thoughts of suicide.  

Finding your identity and dealing with being a teenager is hard enough when you fit the accepted norm, we need to work to help those who don't. Believe me you want to say something hate filled and full of criticism and condemnation to this child you bloody well do it through me, this child deserves none of it.

I am sick of the hate.

Know what other topics have been spoken about in my house recently? Racism, the look of confusion on my child's face when told there was a time coloured people and white people couldn't do things together was wonderful - absolute questioning why? It seemed silly to her.

Equality. My youngest was infuriated when I told her that in some countries as a girl she wouldn't be allowed to go to school and learn things. That's so not fair she said.

My children will learn that skin colour, sexuality and gender are no way to judge a person or limit what they can do.

My wonderful hubby asked why I was writing this post? The only answer I really have is that it's been bugging me and I hadn't written anything to address it. This is how I get stuff out of my system. I blog, I rant and then I move on. It's like I've had my say, done my bit. It's so easy to fall into the social media trap of commenting on those posts that drive you bonkers but really that's unlikely to do anything. The truth is they tend to descend into A vs B and neither side are willing to change their opinions, the hate just becomes more ingrained.

This hating needs to stop people.

Save your energy for things that matter, for fights that matter. Paraphrasing one of my munchkins - there are more important things in the world that need to be sorted out.

#AlwaysKeepFighting

I could have sworn I'd posted more recently here. Clearly not. I must have been imagining things. Well it wouldn't be the first time.
This year has already been so busy. Work, kids growing older, writing, fitness, family, friends. Life really.
I'd like to say it has all been awesome, after all the crap that happened last year. But it hasn't. And you know what, that is life. Life is full of peaks and valleys. Life can be wonderful, or terrible. The trick is to embrace both and get hung up on neither.
See the terrible can open doors to realisations - a friendship that needs more time because it is limited, a person you need to walk away from because you simply don't need that much toxic in your life.
The wonderful can give you hope - that dreams can come true, that you're not too old, or too anything else, to do what you want.
They balance each other out. If you focus too heavily on the bad you struggle to see the good and if you float too much on the great then when the bad happens the crash is so much harder to recover from.

Today is not a great day for me, I feel down, a bit frustrated and to be honest a little depressed. For no real reason I might add. Depression can be like that. My head can be a rather fucked up place to be. Part of me wants to do nothing but curl up in bed and sleep, or maybe read. I don't want to deal with the kids, I don't want to talk to hubby. I just want to hide myself away from it all.
But I won't. I'm lucky, my depression is mild in the grand scheme of things, and I've been living with it for so long I have a pretty decent handle on how to deal with it: I throw myself into writing; I make sure I push aside the grump and hug my kids, embrace something awesome about them and smile with them; I apologise for my crappy mood to my hubby, who blessedly understands and knows how to hold me steady; and yes I read, immerse myself in someone else's world for a while; I even make myself exercise.
In other words I try to do things that are normal for me. I try to smile, not the fake 'everything is alright' bullshit smile but a real, right down inside kind of smile.
Sometimes these bouts of depression last days, sometimes only hours. I'm lucky. Like I said my experience is only mild. Others don't have it so lucky. For others the suffocating grey encroaches their day or night, it pulls them downwards and inwards to the point they just can't be bothered with anything. Telling them to buck up isn't the answer. Allowing them to talk can help. Just sitting with them can do wonders. Don't try to fix them. If you can get them help great. For some that comes in the form of medication or counselling, if that could be the answer encourage them. Mostly I think it is important for them to not feel alone. Allow them to be real about their feelings. If they feel like crap that's not wrong, it just is. Hold them and love them through it.
This world we live in can be hard. So many put so much of themselves out there that the rest of us  wonder what the hell we are doing wrong. My life isn't as together as such and such's. My butt isn't as perfect as hers. He just posted a pic of his ripped abs, well I can't do that. She always has such good days and great luck. I'll never get the opportunities he gets. Why should I bother when I can't compete with that. Their kids are so well behaved. My kid is so moody yet hers is just perfect - what am I doing wrong?

You know what, STOP!
I mean it. Stop trying to compare yourself to others. I reckon if people were to social media truthfully the picture would be very different. We would then realise most people don't have it all together. We only pick and choose the good bits to share. Don't get me wrong, I don't think people should air their dirty laundry on line. I think we do it because we want to see which side of the argument or whatever is more popular. We need to stop oversharing and stop thinking all the positive means everyone but us has it all together.
See social media is like that old chestnut 'how are you?' People who ask that mostly don't want to know. They want you to say 'great how are you?' It is pointless small talk and not meant for truth. I went through a phase where I would ignore that question or say, 'I don't know you so I don't feel I have to answer that', or something similar. It was funny, someone got really upset with me one day for not answering that question, they didn't know how to cope when I didn't play their game.
But I digress. Don't base your happiness around what people post. They may be feeling terrible but doing everything they can to protect some image they believe they have. Unless you really know someone, you don't know them. Most of us have no idea how much our acquaintances struggle everyday. There are certainly enough things to struggle with - perceptions, popularity, protecting our image, weight, beauty… the list goes on.
Just be you. If you feel down today find someone to talk to, or just to hug you. If you don't know anyone find a group, if you don't want to do that, message me. The grey and cold don't last, they don't have to last. You don't need to go it alone. Picking yourself up isn't always easy but you can do it. Look for that hand that is their just waiting for you to grab and grab it. Have someone's back or let someone have yours.
#AlwaysKeepFighting

A Difficult Time Of Year

This year has sucked…
In some places.
But in others it has really been awesome.
Sometimes it is so easy to focus on the bad. What is it about us that makes us geared that way? Why is when we look back we measure in negatives?
See this year saw me injured, assaulted, stuff up something that ended up costing me money that I could have used elsewhere and lose my father. All of which rated on the crappy scale somewhere.
Then the last week or three has been filled with so much tragedy to so many people, on a personal and national scale.
If that is all I focus on then well, by all means 2014 you can piss off and I'm glad to be done with you.

But…
And the thing about but is that it kind of cancels out what came before it.
But…
I completed my first Spartan, my second Tough Mudder, proved myself in a few extremely tough situations, learnt some awesome skills, made some awesome friends and possibly, yes possibly found myself a publisher. Oh and as much as I miss my father, I know he isn't suffering as much as he was anymore. Then there was the awesome family holiday we had (the first in years) and the weekend hubby and I got to go to Sydney without the kids (first time in 11 years). Oh and all the fun stories I have from my SupaNova experiences.
So really, 2014 wasn't all that terrible.

And yet as Christmas is almost upon us it behooves us to be aware of how both the end of the coming year and the festive season effect others.

Christmas is supposed to be a time of good cheer and a celebration of human spirit. If you are a person of faith it is a time to remember the birth of Christ and the spirit in which he came to us. Regardless of your faith and how you celebrate, regardless of your feelings on the commercial behemoth that Christmas has become, it is a time to embrace friends and family, to look at who you are and examine what really matters.
For some of us, that is no easy thing. Christmas can be a time of sad memories, high stress, isolation and increased depression.
The things we have lost are often foremost in our minds. For those like me, who have lost someone this year it doesn't mean we can't celebrate. Would our loved ones really want us to not enjoy this time of year. We shouldn't feel guilty about the moments of joy we find, like we shouldn't feel guilty if we want or need to take time to grieve.

The thing Christmas has become, is in many ways a far cry from its roots. There is undoubtably great pressure that comes, to get the right present, the most expensive or the biggest number or whatever. It is so easy to forget how much of a crock that really is. Don't get me wrong, I am a sucker for Christmas. I love it, I love gift giving but I am so often incredibly aware of my budget. Do I wish I could give my girls more? Sure. I wish I could give them the world. Do I know that isn't a great idea? Sure again. So I try to find a balance even though I'm not always very good at it.
Our inability to do as society says, to give what they advertise as the hottest thing or whatever, shouldn't add to the pressure in our lives. Even knowing that doesn't change the fact it often does. It doesn't alter the fact that increased financial pressure (because we all know bills don't stop at this time of year) adds to our stress. Inability and the related stress cause a plummet in people's ability to cope, to keep a smile on their faces, there is then an increase in depression.
The other thing about a holiday like this one is that it can really increase our feelings of isolation. Not everyone has a lot of friends. Not everyone has a functional family or even a dysfunctional one that can at least get together to make silly Christmas memories.

In short for a large number of people this time of year is hard. It stinks. I wish it didn't.
I wish it was easier for us to let go of the crap, and not to focus on the bad. I wish things like Sydney and Cairns didn't happen (ever let alone this time of year). I wish I had the inclination to simplify at this time of year and maybe lead by some example, but I can't, or won't. Not this year. Maybe next, and maybe never. I wish I could teach people to let go of the negative, but for each of us that is a personal choice.
As the year draws to a close we also are incredibly aware of just how much we haven't done. The resolutions we didn't keep. The goals we didn't reach. You know what? Life goes on. It can get better. You need to choose to make it better.

Don't let the bastards grind you down. Don't let the decisions you made in the heat of the moment or a drunken binge rule your life. You can have a better future, maybe not the one where you get the job that pays you millions, or the lotto win where you don't need to work any more. Maybe the better future is the one where you decide to make the effort to connect with friends more often, or lose two kilos instead of ten or even walk away from that toxic friendship that is bringing you so down.
Happiness at any time of the year doesn't always come from big things. It doesn't come from the presents under the tree, or the cards on the mantle. Happiness is when you know your worth, when you are doing what makes you happy not what makes everyone else happy. I wish I could find the way to make people understand that. I wish people could see that if we work on the smaller things, quite often the bigger ones fall into place.
I wish people understood that happiness comes in all shapes and sizes. Mostly it comes from knowing ourselves, and  accepting ourselves.
I wish, I wish.
I know I can't buy my family the same things friends of ours can afford and you know what, I'm fine with that.
I know I'm not going to get some of the things I would love to get in the next 12 months but I am also fine with that.
I know that others don't understand my drive for fitness and strength, my joy in sparring with my hubby and my geeky nature, and I am fine with that.
I accept myself. I wish others could too, if nothing else it would alleviate some of the stress of this time of year.
Don't let this season get the better of you. Don't give up on the future. Don't lose heart. Remember the highs, the good moments, let go of the bad.
I hope for all of you out there that you find a way to get some moment of positivity and happiness in this festive yet difficult time.

I'm Not Dead Yet

Those four words were my mantra yesterday.
I'm not dead yet.
Every time I got asked 'How you going Kylie?' or words to that effect, my answer was 'I'm not dead yet.'
How or why did it get to that point?
Yesterday I completed my second Tough Mudder. Some will say, 'you crazy woman', others 'go you'. I'm good with both.

Yesterday though was a bigger challenge for me than the actual race. Some very good friends of mine, and teammates, were injured and unable to run this year. This hit me in a very strange way. I realised that this would mean I would be running with a bunch of people for whom fitness is their competitive centre. This made me nervous, I do these events to challenge myself and because, running for the sake of running is something that simply doesn't appeal to me. I like the obstacles.
The map came out and I got excited again. The day drew closer and I got nervous again. Yesterday morning I was both.
I met the new team members.

Where was Josh? 

We laughed and got psyched up. We jumped the wall into the starting box.

We heard the spiel and said the Oath.
I will not whine, kids whine.
Then we went.

I felt good but it wasn't long before the others hit their stride as the pack spread out and I kept up for a km or so but my running time simply isn't very fast. I started to get disheartened. That is a bad headspace to be in. This whole thing is about challenging yourself, not being better than or even as good as everybody else. What an unreasonable expectation to put on oneself.
The problem with being someone like me is I hate being the weakest link. I hate letting others down and that is how I felt. I felt as though I was letting the team down.
Don't get me wrong there was nothing in my team's behaviour that made me feel that way, it was all in my head. But my head can be a messed up place to be. Once you start a downward spiral like that it can be damn difficult to pull yourself out.

Fe wouldn't let me sink, she recognised my mental struggle and kicked my butt, mentally and physically, that's what good friends do, they know how to help you, even when you try to push them away.
I kept going. I wasn't going to let the run beat me. I said I may not be fast but I could definitely do the distance. If they wanted to get out ahead, I didn't mind. They didn't leave me. I came up with a different strategy. I don't need to rest a lot. I'm a stubborn thing. I decided the best way I could help the team was to run while I could, if they needed to stop to get out stones I would head off knowing it wouldn't take them long to catch up. It was the best plan I could think of to not slow them down.
'How you going Kylie?'
'I'm not dead yet.'

I was determined. But my head wasn't making it easy for me, I came off an obstacle I'd made it over every other time. My head said, 'You're too old for this.', 'Why did you bother?'. Deep inside me fought back with 'shut the f*&% up, I'm not dead yet.'
There was an obstacle I really wanted to succeed at, and it didn't matter that more than half the people I saw attack it came off, when I came off I was frustrated and annoyed, 'What did you expect, you're just not good at this.'
'F*&% off, I'm not dead yet.'
I wrenched an arm slightly coming down a wall and I didn't care, because it was a minor inconvenience nothing more. Those obstacles are the part of it I love, and I can help with them. I can be a team player. At some point in time I realise I am the oldest in our team by a bit, so I told them to kiss my ass. The voice in my head recedes and that is good.
The terrain this year was tougher, I'm sure of it. More hills and definitely more rocks to climb. My knees aren't too fond of stairs and that translates to hills and rocky outcroppings but damn it 'I'm not dead yet.'

Then came my arch nemesis, Everest, damn it more than anything I wanted to beat that one this year. And I nearly did, I even caught the hand of the guys at the top but it wasn't a good enough grip and I slipped. Damn it so I tried again. And tripped on something taking a very heavy fall. Busted up my whole right side rather spectacularly. Everyone else made it. It was a huge blow to my mind but 'I don't care, I'm not dead yet'.
I limped away but shook it off and continued on. My team was awesomely supportive. They pushed me and encouraged me.
Bugger it though, my hand was swelling up and I couldn't  hold onto anything, so try as I might (and I did try) I couldn't beat the next couple of obstacles. You know what though, 'I'm not dead yet.'
I hit the arctic enema.

I loved the Fire in your Hole.

As a repeat Mudder, a Legionnaire, we got another go at Everest, but I had to let it go. Then was the electricity. Others thought having done it before they would go around, me having come that far and fought so damn hard with my own mind, my own fears and insecurities, decided 'I'm not dead yet, let's go'.
I did it. I finished the event. I finished it with a great team. Thank you guys. They even made sure I crossed the line with them.
My mental game didn't finish there though because as I tried to break it all down I became convinced that in some way I was a failure. What a crock. I completed an event that many won't even contemplate doing. How is that failure? Sure it wasn't the fastest time but it was quicker than last year. I got the best injury and I still finished. I'm over forty, I ran a lot of kms (I think the official distance was 18kms) and I beat my own fear of heights and failure.

I got caught in my own insecurities. I let myself focus on the negatives. I'm too old, not fit enough. I'm letting them down.
No one put these thoughts into my head. They are my own perceptions. My own fears. We live in a society where we focus too much on the negative. We are almost better at putting ourselves down. Is it because we think if we do it, it won't hurt when others do? In my case, yeah probably, it's a hang over from my school days of being teased and rejected. All these years later the effects that are mostly gone still pop up every now and then. It's a battle, but it is one you can win. You're not dead yet.

I am 41 years old, I was never very good at sport and yet I have finished two Tough Mudders. Kiss my ass. I am not good with heights, and yet I will climb those damn ladders and jump off that platform. I will throw myself at a suspended cargo net, and a curved wall. I can be injured and I won't give up.
All in all it is a bit like life. The only thing that really matters is how you react to what is in front of you. Your challenges may not be the same as someone else's, so what. You don't need to conform to what someone else dictates. The only person you need to be happy with, and challenge (be better than) is yourself. Don't allow the negative thoughts, the fears and insecurities, rule your actions. Align yourself with others who can help, be that in words of encouragement or kicking your ass (figuratively or literally).
I am not a failure.
I am not dead yet.
There is plenty more fight in me. That is how we face our fears, reach our goals and grab our dreams.
You're not dead yet.

I Am Spartan!

Yesterday I did something awesome.

That's right I completed my first Spartan Sprint. It's not my first obstacle race but I've got to say I think it's the toughest one. It was in a word brutal. And yet it was awesome.
Let me dissect that a little for you.
Spartan started for us at 0840am, it was cold, the sun wasn't even over the hill yet and the breeze was brisk.

That's the gentle sloping side, the side we had to go part way up carrying sandbags.
Anyway we started in such a fun way, by going for a swim.

Holy crap it was cold. Then we crawled under barbed wire, jumped some fences and headed up the most brutal hill I've ever seen. Trust me it looked tough when I was at the base and still dry and semi warm. We faced rope climbs, weight challenges, the dreaded spear throw, monkey bars with a twist, mud crawls, cargo ropes and lots and lots of water. Then of course the burpees.

(I was so tired by here, really close to the end)
In case you didn't know burpees suck at the best of times let alone when legs are shaking and cramping and you body is screaming at you for making the decision to do this stupid thing in the first place.
Finally you get to the end and you don't really care how long it took but it feels so incredible just to have finished.
Why was the Spartan race so cool and so important to me?
Because I am not so young any more and I've never been particularly sporty. Spartan is a challenge. Seven kms of pain that is more about, can I finish it, than can I win anything.
In 2008 a bunch of us met as cast and crew for a theatre production, if anyone had said that in 2014 we'd be volunteering to do a race such as this we'd have laughed so hard and asked what they were on. yet it's 2014 and here we are.

I started running as an anger management tool. I was frustrated and needed a way to deal with it without taking it out on my family. It soon became a love/hate thing. I run because I need the cardio workout (my body craves it), I do the other things because I really enjoy the challenge of them. We all have our own reasons. They are all slightly different but we pull together as a team when it matters.
Sure you can do Spartan by yourself (you'd have to be bigger and fitter than me to do so) but sometimes it is better to do things in a team.
It's like life, sometimes the pain comes and we feel we have no choice but to just push through by ourselves. It might be a good time to remember that there is strength in numbers. I'm short I cannot get over a 10 foot wall by myself, I'm stubborn and I won't let my team mates give up also I can sit on the top of the wall and help pull you up. I have my strengths and my weaknesses. Everyone has them. Together we got the team over the line, and through all the pain we had fun with it.

I love my team.

Life is a team event.

It is also about how you choose to face it. I'm older than I've ever been and fitter than I've ever been. People think I'm nuts, not just because I'm a geek or an obstacle racer, but I'm me and I'm comfortable with all my wackiness. I am also only one of 42 women aged 40-49 who took on the Spartan race and I came in 27th. I'm so happy with that. The stats overall were over 450 women raced and I came in at around 278 from memory. I couldn't have done it by myself.
I tell you what though, a couple of those first few obstacles nearly stopped me in my tracks. Sometimes life can be that brutal, particularly when it comes to chasing our dreams. We hit an obstacle and decide there is no way we can go any further. I'm here to tell you, you absolutely can. That ice water is only shocking and freezing while you're in it and not moving. Swim through it and get out and run. That mountain is only a hill with an amazing view to appreciate once you get to the top.
The only person in life you have to make happy is yourself (because funnily enough when you are happy you want to make others happy), the only person you have to be better than is yourself yesterday. Set your own goals and don't let the haters, or laughers stop you.
Set your targets, find that person or group of people who will stand by you, encourage you and pick you up when you stumble. And we all stumble.
I am Spartan!
Who are you?

Precious Things

So my last post was about my mother. This one is about my munchkins.

I work hard. I work long hours in a job many would never consider. I work with amazing people who get a lot of criticism, especially at the moment about being bad or corrupt or whatever. The truth is we are so understaffed that a lot of us are doing a bunch of OT just to cover basic staffing for each day. Sure this is a good thing on one hand. On the other though, is my munchkins. I'm away from home before they get up and get back just before the youngest's bed time. Then with all the extra shifts, I don't even get my normal days off. There comes a time when you have to make a choice. The work hours (money) or time with the kids playing silly games and nagging them to clean their rooms.
On one hand it seems like an easy choice. The money of course, no I mean the kids.
Because when it comes down to it sometimes it's not all that easy. I have a past that, not too long ago, meant we survived pay cheque to pay cheque. Now we have a little leeway. Not as much as you might think but there is a reason for that, it's a choice we made about our priorities.
We have made the choice to have mini breaks this year. Sure we lack in some things but we have the opportunity to take the munchkins out to experience things we haven't previously been able to afford, like the Gold Coast. Also hubby and I are getting our first holiday sans kids shortly.
My biggest struggle at the moment is my baby (who isn't really a baby anymore) who is waking up stupid early to say she misses me when I go to work, and quite often she says she doesn't want me to go. I reassure her that I'll be fine and I'll see her when I come home. I've also made a promise to her that in a little while, on a set date I will be having seven days off and I promise not to do OT or shift swaps into that time.
Would the extra money be helpful? You bet, especially with the hits we took in the last budget. Sometimes though the choice really is that easy. Compromise. The thing with compromise is you as the adult need to keep your word. It's no good promising that 'I'll be home here if you just let me do the extra work now,' if on the allotted date, you realise you've forgotten about a bill and you go do that OT anyway.
Children matter, they are our most valuable possession. We need to raise them to respect a good work ethic, to develop a good work ethic and to value the truly important things in life - each other.
Take the time to embrace that which really matters. Feed the heart and you'll find some things you though were hugely important, really aren't.

Mother's Day

A day many of us get breakfast in bed and an excuse for gifts that let us know the stuff we do as a mother doesn't go unnoticed, even if it feels it does most of the time, or our kids tell us they hate us.
Mother's Day for me though brings mixed feelings and I'm pretty certain I'm not the only one. My mum is no longer here.

My mother died when my eldest was 3 months old. That was more than 10 years ago now and I still miss her terribly. Often it's not something that enters my head, it isn't a constant aching loss, but that makes it hurt no less. Days like today I am profoundly aware of just what she, I and my children have missed out on. They never knew her. I wish so much that that was different. She was such a wonderful mother to me. She was a quiet, peaceful and fun influence on my life.

We didn't have much but it didn't matter because we had her and she gave us everything she could; which included a solid work ethic, good grounding in life skills like cooking and using what you have to get by. She taught me to sew, encouraged me to be crafty and make things for others, and accepted what were probably very dodgy efforts on my behalf as valued gifts.

My mother also wasn't afraid to have fun and laugh at herself. She was the one who taught me the value of a good practical joke. There were stories of going to camps and hanging all the boys clothes down at a nearby bus shelter. Being fined at the start of the same camps simply because of who her sisters were and deciding if that was the way it was she may as well make the most of it.

There were cousins who made the mistake of trusting my mother and her sisters and their mother (Oma) with things like wedding luggage - oops, a mistake I knew not to repeat. I didn't pack a honeymoon bag, so my mother put rice through all my luggage. More fool her though she taught me well. When I dropped in to grab my stuff before the reception I emptied my whole bag in my parents bed, picked my clothes out and remade their bed. They were picking rice out of the carpets for months. She also taught me how to short sheet a bed.
She may not have understood the creative force that drives me but she supported it. She was the calm in our, at times, chaotic storm. She stood strong in the face of adversity, even the cancer that eventually took her life. She was warm and generous of spirit. The thought of disappointing her was a more powerful motivator than her anger.
Faith for her was rich, deep and real. She hurt at the end when well meaning people of faith insisted she wasn't getting healed because she must have had some unacknowledged sin in her life or some other crap. I was so angry with them. But she'd call me up when she was down and I knew it was my job to make her laugh. So we'd come up with silly things like hanging up a huge pink parachute from the roof at her wake and having white liquid spurt all over people like a boobie leaking milk.
I remember this one time at the airport when she'd just gotten her fake boobs (she never had reconstructive surgery these were just like prosthetic ones that filled out a bra for the times she wanted that). She took it out of its box and was passing it around so we could feel it. The poor guy sitting near us had no idea what to say or really where to look. Even when she was sick she kept her sense of humour.

There are times even now I wish I could just ring her up and ask her questions, or share things with her. I have no idea what she would think about what I do now, or how I am as a mother, I only hope I can be half as good at it as she was, if I can do that then maybe my girls will have a good grounding for their lives.