Starbucks dressed as a sheep for the nativity play.
My mother-in-law wanted her to dress as an angel, but she insisted on a sheep. I was so proud, but so was Starbucks!
Monday, December 29, 2014
Thursday, December 18, 2014
Smile, and the whole world judges you
How i have missed writing on here. I've been busy revising and taking my law exam - i guess i could have put a note on here explaining that. But now i'm done, and am free to type as much as i want, small baby permitting.
Todays topic is smiling.
My colleague remarked on Tuesday that Starbucks is a 'smiley kid', which is true. She has always been a happy baby, and wherever i took her she would smile at people, and they would like her.
When Starbucks smiles, its a knowing look, like she has this world in her hand. She has an agenda that she is not necessarily going to let on. She is in control, she is assertive and confident and pleased with who she is, and what she can do. She smiles at me as if to say, 'you fool, you think you're in control?'
This is not fact. This is opinion.
This is my interpretation of her smile, my sentiment towards my first baby whom i had no idea what to do with, but felt like she knew all along but didn't tell me. This is the first person in the world to make me a certain kind of happy inside. Perhaps she smiles because she is happy, but that seems to simple for Starbucks clever little mind.
This led me to realise that i interpret (and yes interpret - although if i label her like this enough I might make it become self-actualising- a child lives up to the expectations put upon them), Cookie's smile in a whole different way.
Todays topic is smiling.
My colleague remarked on Tuesday that Starbucks is a 'smiley kid', which is true. She has always been a happy baby, and wherever i took her she would smile at people, and they would like her.
This is Starbucks smiling:
When Starbucks smiles, its a knowing look, like she has this world in her hand. She has an agenda that she is not necessarily going to let on. She is in control, she is assertive and confident and pleased with who she is, and what she can do. She smiles at me as if to say, 'you fool, you think you're in control?'
This is not fact. This is opinion.
This is my interpretation of her smile, my sentiment towards my first baby whom i had no idea what to do with, but felt like she knew all along but didn't tell me. This is the first person in the world to make me a certain kind of happy inside. Perhaps she smiles because she is happy, but that seems to simple for Starbucks clever little mind.
This led me to realise that i interpret (and yes interpret - although if i label her like this enough I might make it become self-actualising- a child lives up to the expectations put upon them), Cookie's smile in a whole different way.
Cookie smiles like this:
Cookie has the smile of an imbecile. I look at her smiling and think, 'oh you poor little baby, you don't really get whats going on do you'. The jokes on her, she is naive and foolish, smiling at a time when she is yet to realise how dark and weird the world actually is.
odd how i interpret them both so differently. Im glad that i am now aware of this, and can try not to look down on Cookie as foolish quite so much. But what other assumptions have i made about this 3 month old baby that i am not aware of. I've just got to hope that my children are very forgiving when they grow up to be who i'm labeling them as. Perhaps they are labeling me in a similar way. What a silly mummy.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Career lows
There are so many odd moments in being a parent. Wearing matching newspaper hats whenever you go on the tube is one.
The possibly oddest scenario occurred earlier this week when Starbucks (2) informed me during our playing of 'doctors' that I should 'feed from this boobie and then this one, ok mummy', as she pointed to her unformed chest. 'No'. 'Why mummy?', 'just no'.
I'm not sure if it's made more or less odd by being alone with her and no one else witnessing this surrealism.
Would other mothers lent in and pretended to? Or is there a definite do not cross line there? Surely there's a line, although it might be way back before when she said 'let's play doctors, lay down'.
The possibly oddest scenario occurred earlier this week when Starbucks (2) informed me during our playing of 'doctors' that I should 'feed from this boobie and then this one, ok mummy', as she pointed to her unformed chest. 'No'. 'Why mummy?', 'just no'.
I'm not sure if it's made more or less odd by being alone with her and no one else witnessing this surrealism.
Would other mothers lent in and pretended to? Or is there a definite do not cross line there? Surely there's a line, although it might be way back before when she said 'let's play doctors, lay down'.
Monday, November 10, 2014
A dark unjust world
Sadly I've been learning some new lessons lately.
I can clearly remember a time in my teenage years when I realised that my parents didn't know everything, and in fact, I knew more than them (oh yeah I'm a conceited child). A few years later I began to realise that my parents were actually their own people making their own personal choices and that perhaps on occasion I was more more emotionally intelligent than them (do I sound vain?) realising that those above you don't necessarily make the right decision all the time can make you feel that bit more vulnerable in a dark and difficult world.
I've adapted to this. To the vulnerability of knowing that your parents are not all knowing and protecting.
I feel that a large contributor to Lovely's low mental health this summer was the development of a feeling that doctors cannot always make you better. In fact they might not even be able to diagnose your problem. She was suffering from sever bleeding but they couldn't work out why, and often when she wasn't in pain, or complaining they didn't care. Reduced staff quotas at the weekends, cost cutting on tests etc means if there is no one complaining loud enough, no diagnosis might be made. It ruins the 'truth' that when you are ill doctors make you better.
At the same time, Honestly is experiencing the justice process in court this week. To us who know the case it is obvious that the victim was a vulnerable young child, attacked, and the perpetrator is a really unpleasant man. However what else is clear is that due to certain rules, a minimal amount of actual concrete evidence, and the way the system works, it would seem highly likely that what we consider justice will not occur. The police cannot protect you, nor always get you justice.
The world is a dark place when you realise just how alone you are. What truth can you cling to?
Luckily for me, I believe that there is an awesome God surrounding us. An all powerful father figure who is above the law and social rules so can achieve justice. A clever magician who knows all your intricate workings at a glance.
Still it's odd to realise that there is no human structure above you that can protect you and keep safe.
There's no Santa Claus either.
I can clearly remember a time in my teenage years when I realised that my parents didn't know everything, and in fact, I knew more than them (oh yeah I'm a conceited child). A few years later I began to realise that my parents were actually their own people making their own personal choices and that perhaps on occasion I was more more emotionally intelligent than them (do I sound vain?) realising that those above you don't necessarily make the right decision all the time can make you feel that bit more vulnerable in a dark and difficult world.
I've adapted to this. To the vulnerability of knowing that your parents are not all knowing and protecting.
I feel that a large contributor to Lovely's low mental health this summer was the development of a feeling that doctors cannot always make you better. In fact they might not even be able to diagnose your problem. She was suffering from sever bleeding but they couldn't work out why, and often when she wasn't in pain, or complaining they didn't care. Reduced staff quotas at the weekends, cost cutting on tests etc means if there is no one complaining loud enough, no diagnosis might be made. It ruins the 'truth' that when you are ill doctors make you better.
At the same time, Honestly is experiencing the justice process in court this week. To us who know the case it is obvious that the victim was a vulnerable young child, attacked, and the perpetrator is a really unpleasant man. However what else is clear is that due to certain rules, a minimal amount of actual concrete evidence, and the way the system works, it would seem highly likely that what we consider justice will not occur. The police cannot protect you, nor always get you justice.
The world is a dark place when you realise just how alone you are. What truth can you cling to?
Luckily for me, I believe that there is an awesome God surrounding us. An all powerful father figure who is above the law and social rules so can achieve justice. A clever magician who knows all your intricate workings at a glance.
Still it's odd to realise that there is no human structure above you that can protect you and keep safe.
There's no Santa Claus either.
Welcome to paradise
starbucks has been learning about CDs verses DVDs. As she headed down the hall with a large stack of CDs to take to the car I had to limit her to taking only 5. She chose Greenday -Dookie!
Ah. It's been a long time. What a great afternoon it was driving to toys r us listening to it. Starbucks said she thought the music was 'nice'. Now to introduce her to the Foo Fighters - The Colour and the Shape! (Probably the best album ever).
Friday, October 31, 2014
Happiness (and it involves pigeons).....
I am happy. Not because i am no longer going to work due to my glorious maternity leave, nor because i have two gorgeous daughters whom i smile with love at the thought of. No. Its because just lately i have started to glimpses the beginnings of achieving some of my life long goals.
These are perhaps not your typical bucket list achievements, what to do before you are 40 etc, but they are what i really want to achieve: 1) to run a welcoming home and 2) to help the pigeons.
Ok the pigeon one might seem funny, but along with my love of massive trainers with big tongues, God has given me a love of pigeons (in the bible it says that God created us carefully in the womb, although its easy to see this as a babies organs develop, he also is choosing our character/predisposition to certain things, one of mine is pigeon loving). So i have been encouraging Starbucks to feed the birds that arrive in our garden, and we now have some regular pigeon type visitors. My favorite is the one with only one foot, as i feel especially guilty about the fact that human kind probably contributed to this (this is odd as i dont care as much about the suffering we inflict on pets). One-foot even started to fly into our windows to get our attention to feed her. I really like that we have now established ourselves as a place that these birds can come to feed, a little haven in the middle of a tarmac-ed plain. Somewhere to get easy food on a cold winters day in London. To me this is an achievement, and one i'm proud of. Odd? oh well.
The second is to run the sort of home where stray teenagers feel welcome. Having always beenthe kid with nowhere to be as a teenager, I really want to correct this by welcoming others. The sort of place where my friends kids can come, and still feel welcome once my kids have tired if their presence and left them alone in the lounge. I love teenagers, but the welcome extends to all.
Since the addition of Cookie to our family, our house has seemed much warmer. Perhaps as I am now out numbered. People come, get more involved with my kids and then get wrapped up in family life and forget to leave. It's a loving nurturing oasis, again, in a cold harsh city. I love that recently a couple of people have said that they didn't want to leave our house and spent ages cuddling Cookie. If cuddling a small cute baby for an hour doesn't send you back out into the world a happier, better person, I don't know what will.
These are perhaps not your typical bucket list achievements, what to do before you are 40 etc, but they are what i really want to achieve: 1) to run a welcoming home and 2) to help the pigeons.
Ok the pigeon one might seem funny, but along with my love of massive trainers with big tongues, God has given me a love of pigeons (in the bible it says that God created us carefully in the womb, although its easy to see this as a babies organs develop, he also is choosing our character/predisposition to certain things, one of mine is pigeon loving). So i have been encouraging Starbucks to feed the birds that arrive in our garden, and we now have some regular pigeon type visitors. My favorite is the one with only one foot, as i feel especially guilty about the fact that human kind probably contributed to this (this is odd as i dont care as much about the suffering we inflict on pets). One-foot even started to fly into our windows to get our attention to feed her. I really like that we have now established ourselves as a place that these birds can come to feed, a little haven in the middle of a tarmac-ed plain. Somewhere to get easy food on a cold winters day in London. To me this is an achievement, and one i'm proud of. Odd? oh well.
The second is to run the sort of home where stray teenagers feel welcome. Having always beenthe kid with nowhere to be as a teenager, I really want to correct this by welcoming others. The sort of place where my friends kids can come, and still feel welcome once my kids have tired if their presence and left them alone in the lounge. I love teenagers, but the welcome extends to all.
Since the addition of Cookie to our family, our house has seemed much warmer. Perhaps as I am now out numbered. People come, get more involved with my kids and then get wrapped up in family life and forget to leave. It's a loving nurturing oasis, again, in a cold harsh city. I love that recently a couple of people have said that they didn't want to leave our house and spent ages cuddling Cookie. If cuddling a small cute baby for an hour doesn't send you back out into the world a happier, better person, I don't know what will.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Loving daddy
Starbucks and I are sitting at the dinner table sharing a yogurt while Xss paces the floor trying. To get Cookie to sleep.
Me: 'Starbucks, what was your favourite thing we did today? Was it our trip to the dentist? When Bobby came over to play? Lunch at the cafe? When we made biscuits? Playing play-doh?'
Starbucks: 'when daddy came home'
Me: 'Starbucks, what was your favourite thing we did today? Was it our trip to the dentist? When Bobby came over to play? Lunch at the cafe? When we made biscuits? Playing play-doh?'
Starbucks: 'when daddy came home'
Friday, October 10, 2014
This is how we know what love is- Perhaps what i should have told Lovely.
My starting point for understanding the principle of Christianity is this story:
Imagine a pedestrian crossing your local residential road, tree lined street, houses everywhere, steps out in front of a car. It's an inevitable fatality but a middle aged man on the pavement sees. He takes decisive action, darts out from between two parked cars and shoves the pedestrian firmly to the side (and safety) but has no time to move his feet and save himself. He turns to face the oncoming driver calmly accepting his fate and dies.
Now imagine that the pedestrian is a teenager, dressed in gang colours and darts in front of the car as he is running away from a mugging with an old woman's hand bag. The man does exactly the same thing. Perhaps he doesn't know what this lad has done? Say the pedestrian Is a girl, she's shouting on her phone while crossing the road, she sees the man looking at her and shouts out, 'what you looking at you Fucking Paedo?' He saves her from the car and dies.
Lastly, imagine the man knew all about the pedestrian. Perhaps he's psychic or something, a time traveler bespoke to their life. When the pedestrian goes to cross the road he knows all the bad things he has already done, he knows the hatred and racism in his heart, he knows what he will do with his life -nothing, and he knows that immediately after he dies saving his life today the pedestrian will accuse him of being the most evil person he's ever met, calling him 'fame-hungry' and 'disingenuine'. The pedestrian will claim that he managed to save himself from the cars path (but can't explain why this man is lying dead on the road), and nobody cares thanks to his carry on. Knowing all this, the man still steps in the road to save him and face certain death.
The man is Jesus. The pedestrians us. Imagine starting your life knowing that someone loves you so much that they died for you. Even if you never acknowledge it, even if you never become the best person you can, even if you never manage to have a career, or cheat on every partner you have. Even if you have a life time of stories that could get you on the Jeremy Kyle show.
How would you feel if somebody died for you? Knowing you intimately, bad bits and all. He did it, and loves you despite whatever reaction you give.
One of my favourite verses in the bible is Romans 5:7-8.
'7 It is a difficult thing for someone to die for a righteous person. It may even be that someone might dare to die for a good person. 8 But God has shown us how much he loves us - it was while we were still sinners that Christ died for us'
In anticipation of our reaction to this news, the bible also challenges us to, 'Be still and know that I am God' (Psalm 46:10). Accept the above and know that many things in life are inevitable, you cannot change them, you cannot change God loving you, or the person he made you, so go with the flow rather than fight your way through on your own.
Imagine a pedestrian crossing your local residential road, tree lined street, houses everywhere, steps out in front of a car. It's an inevitable fatality but a middle aged man on the pavement sees. He takes decisive action, darts out from between two parked cars and shoves the pedestrian firmly to the side (and safety) but has no time to move his feet and save himself. He turns to face the oncoming driver calmly accepting his fate and dies.
Now imagine that the pedestrian is a teenager, dressed in gang colours and darts in front of the car as he is running away from a mugging with an old woman's hand bag. The man does exactly the same thing. Perhaps he doesn't know what this lad has done? Say the pedestrian Is a girl, she's shouting on her phone while crossing the road, she sees the man looking at her and shouts out, 'what you looking at you Fucking Paedo?' He saves her from the car and dies.
Lastly, imagine the man knew all about the pedestrian. Perhaps he's psychic or something, a time traveler bespoke to their life. When the pedestrian goes to cross the road he knows all the bad things he has already done, he knows the hatred and racism in his heart, he knows what he will do with his life -nothing, and he knows that immediately after he dies saving his life today the pedestrian will accuse him of being the most evil person he's ever met, calling him 'fame-hungry' and 'disingenuine'. The pedestrian will claim that he managed to save himself from the cars path (but can't explain why this man is lying dead on the road), and nobody cares thanks to his carry on. Knowing all this, the man still steps in the road to save him and face certain death.
The man is Jesus. The pedestrians us. Imagine starting your life knowing that someone loves you so much that they died for you. Even if you never acknowledge it, even if you never become the best person you can, even if you never manage to have a career, or cheat on every partner you have. Even if you have a life time of stories that could get you on the Jeremy Kyle show.
How would you feel if somebody died for you? Knowing you intimately, bad bits and all. He did it, and loves you despite whatever reaction you give.
One of my favourite verses in the bible is Romans 5:7-8.
'7 It is a difficult thing for someone to die for a righteous person. It may even be that someone might dare to die for a good person. 8 But God has shown us how much he loves us - it was while we were still sinners that Christ died for us'
In anticipation of our reaction to this news, the bible also challenges us to, 'Be still and know that I am God' (Psalm 46:10). Accept the above and know that many things in life are inevitable, you cannot change them, you cannot change God loving you, or the person he made you, so go with the flow rather than fight your way through on your own.
Monday, September 22, 2014
Introducing COOKIE!!! The monster is here
Weighing in in the red corner at 9 lbs 6 oz is Cookie. Welcome to the world baby girl.
Surely this cant be a new born!? Thank God it was a C- Section after all!
Starbucks has to be reminded to share the baby with everyone. If she had her way she would be the only person allowed to hold Cookie.
Fat face.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Last pregnant rant, I hope:
One of the worst things leading up to the birth of my children has been the comments made at the end of the pregnancy once the baby is due:
These questions seem to fall into several categories:
1) are you sure you haven't had the baby and forgotten to tell me?
No. I will tell you, but can't when she's not here!
2) are you sure you're not actually in labour and haven't noticed yet?
This includes comments about checking between my legs to see if I'm not secretly dialated, or if Cookies head is not already there. It's not. Isn't it well known that actually labour is quite painful.... A lot of people seem to have forgotten this lately.
3) are you doing enough to make the baby come?
Despite all of these being old wives tales, encouraging me to have sex, eat curries, EXERCISE, drink castor oil, poking up there, rose hip tea, copious pineapple eating, people seem determined that I need to recount to them which of these I have done and account for why they have not worked. The general message - I'm not trying hard enough and must do more.
4) why haven't you had her yet?
Errr it's not up to me! And it's not like I am deliberately trying to keep her in like I feel like I am being accused off.
Best one today, whispered to me in church following a nod to my massive stomach, 'hurry up!'.
5) have I had any signs of labour, often labelled twinges but not substantiated with what a twinge might be and how a twinge might relate to being in labour.
I think people are probably just trying to let me know they care and showing interest, but in my overly pregnant (and getting quite desperate for a natural birth to occur before my c section deadline at 42 weeks) state, it just makes me want to curl up in a ball (currently impossible) on the floor and cry. I'm tempted to turn my phone off but then people will just be convinced i am actually in labour.
End of hormonal pregnant rant.
Thank God I have so many people who care!
These questions seem to fall into several categories:
1) are you sure you haven't had the baby and forgotten to tell me?
No. I will tell you, but can't when she's not here!
2) are you sure you're not actually in labour and haven't noticed yet?
This includes comments about checking between my legs to see if I'm not secretly dialated, or if Cookies head is not already there. It's not. Isn't it well known that actually labour is quite painful.... A lot of people seem to have forgotten this lately.
3) are you doing enough to make the baby come?
Despite all of these being old wives tales, encouraging me to have sex, eat curries, EXERCISE, drink castor oil, poking up there, rose hip tea, copious pineapple eating, people seem determined that I need to recount to them which of these I have done and account for why they have not worked. The general message - I'm not trying hard enough and must do more.
4) why haven't you had her yet?
Errr it's not up to me! And it's not like I am deliberately trying to keep her in like I feel like I am being accused off.
Best one today, whispered to me in church following a nod to my massive stomach, 'hurry up!'.
5) have I had any signs of labour, often labelled twinges but not substantiated with what a twinge might be and how a twinge might relate to being in labour.
I think people are probably just trying to let me know they care and showing interest, but in my overly pregnant (and getting quite desperate for a natural birth to occur before my c section deadline at 42 weeks) state, it just makes me want to curl up in a ball (currently impossible) on the floor and cry. I'm tempted to turn my phone off but then people will just be convinced i am actually in labour.
End of hormonal pregnant rant.
Thank God I have so many people who care!
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Suicide Mark II
I know mourning is a journey, so i am unsuprised to say that my thoughts around Lovely's death have already changed this week. I battle between wanting her to have been suffering a mental health break down, and not.
On the one hand if she committed suicide when having poor mental health it makes it more bearable in that she wasn't herself, and that explains why it was so out of character, and not deliberately harmful to others. It also takes some of her active choice away, and it seems less painful that she didn't deliberately choose to leave us all behind with these complex emotions.
On the other hand, if she died not being herself, was she a victim. Someone who should have been helped, someone i failed by not noticing and forcing myself upon, to fix her. Someone mistakenly making a big statement whilst not being herself. If she wanted autonomy in death, mental health labels are erasing this.
Monday night me, Princess and Honestly were invited around to Lovely's widows house. He wanted to give account of her last few days, he wanted to explain that he had tried to help her, and he was clear that she had a mental health problem....
He painted a picture of a girl overwhelmed by a deep internal feeling of fear and dread, of an over consumption of thoughts about an inevitable demise with no respite. Someone very different from the person we knew, at least for her last two weeks. I didn't see her in those two weeks so i don't know what it looked like, and cant argue with this. But she sent me a very normal text message half an hour before she died.
My latest, very tough struggle, although perhaps it is just a sideline for me to distract myself with, is was Lovely my friend? I only saw her once in the last three months, and that was ad-hoc when she had come to London so see another friend she had recently made whilst travelling. She stopped answering the phone to me, she apparently phoned a list of people the day before she died in preparation - i wasn't one of them, she didn't once tell me how she was genuinely feeling. Without these things, what kind of friendship did we have? By the time i had found out that she'd died, another friend of hers had already flown back from Africa on an urgent flight, if i was such a good friend how did it take me so long to find out?
Were we even friends, or was i deluded? This makes me cry.
Lovely had a lot of people in her life that she tried to pacify and make happy at her own personal cost, perhaps i was just another one of these. Whilst i thought we were close friends was i actually just another rope pulling her down. Another burden to be lifted only by suicide?
Saturday, September 06, 2014
Born in the shadow of death....
So i should be logging on here to happily announce to my world that Cookie is here, alive and kicking and letting me know about the realities of having a 4 person family. However she's not. I am 40 weeks at the moment but still no sign. If i get to 42 i have a ceasarian booked ready. She's not even born and a sanction has been put in place, 'come or 'i'll come and get you'.
So my reason for writing now? Lovely died. She was 32, married and had more friends than.... average. But she committed suicide on Friday.
It's been hard to take. I've never experienced suicide before, i've never experienced the annoyance of knowing that if an individual had of done something different i wouldn't be in this pain right now. And that a deliberate and premeditated act to kill herself was capable of being part of Lovely's personality.
I've been REALLY struggling to reconcile the Lovely i knew, with someone who would take their life in a dramatic manner. Only a few hours before she died we were texting each other an inane conversation about Cookie. I call her Lovely as she would describe everyone as Lovely, if she said something even vaguely negative about someone,and often blatantly true, she would apologise, and say 'that sounded horrible, what i meant was...' and put it in a really nice way that couldn't even offend the person she was talking about.
I understand that she might not have told me that she felt suicidal as i am so pregnant, and i knew that she was 'down' but when did down turn into so depressed it is hard to recognise my friend amongst it all? Do you have to be clinically depressed to make the choice it is better to be dead than live anymore? Is poor mental health a convenient label for anyone who acts contrary to how society dictates we should?
Last night i looked up death by hanging on the internet and it really helped. It gave me not only the gory details so i can create a film in my head of Lovely's last few minutes, but also some very general comments about why people choose this form of suicide. And i think it's helped.
The Department of Health and Aged Care of Australia calls suicide by hanging a "particularly confronting display of resistance, defiance, individual control and accusatory blame"; it is "a rebuke and statement of uncaring relations, unmet needs, personal anguish, and emotional payback". Lovely conformed, she stood up for all the homeless people she worked with, she fought for asylum seekers with mental health problems rights, she was an avid support of amnesty international and would hold events for them, but when it came to her personal life she struggled to stand up for herself, she struggled to overthrow the middle-class values she was bought up in, stiff upper lip, don't complain and get on with it. It currently helps me to think that she was lucid and rational in her last actions, that eventually she got to breaking point and decided that enough was enough, she would be making a stand, a massive 'FUCK YOU' to the world.
I'm not saying she was justified, and i'm sure soon I will begin to feel cross with her for choosing to make this statement than to live it out and make the changes she wanted to see happen, and remain my friend and companion. But it helps me to consider her an active participant, not a victim of something else taking over her. As you can tell I have a very primitive understanding of mental health. Although I'm not convinced that mental health plays a massive role in this. Am I being naïve?
So my reason for writing now? Lovely died. She was 32, married and had more friends than.... average. But she committed suicide on Friday.
It's been hard to take. I've never experienced suicide before, i've never experienced the annoyance of knowing that if an individual had of done something different i wouldn't be in this pain right now. And that a deliberate and premeditated act to kill herself was capable of being part of Lovely's personality.
I've been REALLY struggling to reconcile the Lovely i knew, with someone who would take their life in a dramatic manner. Only a few hours before she died we were texting each other an inane conversation about Cookie. I call her Lovely as she would describe everyone as Lovely, if she said something even vaguely negative about someone,and often blatantly true, she would apologise, and say 'that sounded horrible, what i meant was...' and put it in a really nice way that couldn't even offend the person she was talking about.
I understand that she might not have told me that she felt suicidal as i am so pregnant, and i knew that she was 'down' but when did down turn into so depressed it is hard to recognise my friend amongst it all? Do you have to be clinically depressed to make the choice it is better to be dead than live anymore? Is poor mental health a convenient label for anyone who acts contrary to how society dictates we should?
Last night i looked up death by hanging on the internet and it really helped. It gave me not only the gory details so i can create a film in my head of Lovely's last few minutes, but also some very general comments about why people choose this form of suicide. And i think it's helped.
The Department of Health and Aged Care of Australia calls suicide by hanging a "particularly confronting display of resistance, defiance, individual control and accusatory blame"; it is "a rebuke and statement of uncaring relations, unmet needs, personal anguish, and emotional payback". Lovely conformed, she stood up for all the homeless people she worked with, she fought for asylum seekers with mental health problems rights, she was an avid support of amnesty international and would hold events for them, but when it came to her personal life she struggled to stand up for herself, she struggled to overthrow the middle-class values she was bought up in, stiff upper lip, don't complain and get on with it. It currently helps me to think that she was lucid and rational in her last actions, that eventually she got to breaking point and decided that enough was enough, she would be making a stand, a massive 'FUCK YOU' to the world.
I'm not saying she was justified, and i'm sure soon I will begin to feel cross with her for choosing to make this statement than to live it out and make the changes she wanted to see happen, and remain my friend and companion. But it helps me to consider her an active participant, not a victim of something else taking over her. As you can tell I have a very primitive understanding of mental health. Although I'm not convinced that mental health plays a massive role in this. Am I being naïve?
Monday, June 16, 2014
Greece is the word
We went on holiday to Greece! People want to know if we had a nice time and if we would recommend it. This is now a really challenging question, now that we have a small person that follows us around and makes her feelings very evident at every occasion. In a nutshell if she's happy, we are.
The facts are:
1) The sea was VERY clear and the beaches pretty
2) We managed to find loads of local beaches (15 minutes drive away) that were only about 40 metres long and had two handfuls of people on. Mostly locals.
3) The food was nice, but very baked. We ate a lot of hot food, with the only alternative seeming to be Greek salad (which is nice, but not every meal).
4) Chania is a pretty town with a lot of tourists in it. Great places to eat, drink and people watch but not much else interesting.
5) Chania has a Starbucks which does sell Mocha Cookie Crumble Frapacinno's
6) The sun feels good warming your skin wherever it is warm.
7) Starbucks (the 2 year old) enjoyed paddling in the water and continually filling up her bucket and emptying as if there was a purpose to watering the beach. We enjoyed sitting in the shallow water while she did this, talking.
8) There was a lot of graffiti, and not political slogans or social commentary, but tagging?
I had a nice time. Nice is the word. Would i go back? Yeah. But i have a child now, so adventuring into far off places is currently on hold.
The facts are:
1) The sea was VERY clear and the beaches pretty
6) The sun feels good warming your skin wherever it is warm.
8) There was a lot of graffiti, and not political slogans or social commentary, but tagging?
I had a nice time. Nice is the word. Would i go back? Yeah. But i have a child now, so adventuring into far off places is currently on hold.
Tuesday, June 03, 2014
It's a boy thing
Typical that a moan would drive me back to here, but that's who I am.
Todays topic. Gender labels. again.
Today's annoying comment - 'you know boys don't sit still long enough to learn at this age (2-3)'.
No. Now I am obviously biased as I only have a girl, and perhaps I'll have to eat my hat if I ever get a boy but I cant help notice that in my life there are numerous negative labels associated with boys, and dismissed because 'it's just a boy thing'.
I tried to be accommodating to this comment, given in reference to the fact that Starbucks can now identify a letter 'e' anywhere and will regularly scour billboards and signs looking for an 'e', before pointing it out to anyone who'll listen. This is apparently in advance of boys of her age and older (the one this person was referring to is over a year older), as they are too busy running around to learn 'academic' things like this.
I don't buy it. And I think it is unfair. When I think about it Starbucks did not learn the letter 'e' from sitting down at the table with me reading books. She learnt it through billboards, she learnt it through stories and she learnt it through play doh stamps. Today in the lift we talked about the numbers 2 and 4. (she also knows the number 2 - apparently it is 'my [her] number') as we counted up when the numbers in the lift changed. progressing to the 4th floor. We talk about numbers when we count how many strawberries she is allowed at dinner, we talk about numbers when we try to identify what bus is coming, and we are beginning to learn to add when she gets 'one more' throw over the sofa, or 'one more' run around the house before bed. Starbucks doesn't really sit still either, as I believe is normal for most 2 year olds.
So unless these boys I hear of do not eat food, go in lifts, see any billboards, go on buses, run around the house, use play doh, listen to stories at night or jump off the back of their sofa, I don't see why most cannot learn in a manner similar to Starbucks.
The flip side of these comments is not only are they negative for the boys, but also for the girls. No need to praise them, girls just love to sit quietly and learn numbers and letters!
Other annoying comments:
'girls are just naturally obedient aren't they?'
'I didn't get Starbucks a car, I got her a hair clip instead so she can look pretty'
Todays topic. Gender labels. again.
Today's annoying comment - 'you know boys don't sit still long enough to learn at this age (2-3)'.
No. Now I am obviously biased as I only have a girl, and perhaps I'll have to eat my hat if I ever get a boy but I cant help notice that in my life there are numerous negative labels associated with boys, and dismissed because 'it's just a boy thing'.
I tried to be accommodating to this comment, given in reference to the fact that Starbucks can now identify a letter 'e' anywhere and will regularly scour billboards and signs looking for an 'e', before pointing it out to anyone who'll listen. This is apparently in advance of boys of her age and older (the one this person was referring to is over a year older), as they are too busy running around to learn 'academic' things like this.
I don't buy it. And I think it is unfair. When I think about it Starbucks did not learn the letter 'e' from sitting down at the table with me reading books. She learnt it through billboards, she learnt it through stories and she learnt it through play doh stamps. Today in the lift we talked about the numbers 2 and 4. (she also knows the number 2 - apparently it is 'my [her] number') as we counted up when the numbers in the lift changed. progressing to the 4th floor. We talk about numbers when we count how many strawberries she is allowed at dinner, we talk about numbers when we try to identify what bus is coming, and we are beginning to learn to add when she gets 'one more' throw over the sofa, or 'one more' run around the house before bed. Starbucks doesn't really sit still either, as I believe is normal for most 2 year olds.
So unless these boys I hear of do not eat food, go in lifts, see any billboards, go on buses, run around the house, use play doh, listen to stories at night or jump off the back of their sofa, I don't see why most cannot learn in a manner similar to Starbucks.
The flip side of these comments is not only are they negative for the boys, but also for the girls. No need to praise them, girls just love to sit quietly and learn numbers and letters!
Other annoying comments:
'girls are just naturally obedient aren't they?'
'I didn't get Starbucks a car, I got her a hair clip instead so she can look pretty'
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
Starbucks is 2!
However, her favourite present was a tin of peanuts to feed the squirrel in our garden. She spent a long time having a footnut massage, and trying to sneak as many as possible when we were telling her not to eat them.
The best things in life are free. Or bird food.
Friday, February 28, 2014
What makes us happy....
I haven't written on here in a while (as you know), and interestingly the thing that prompted me to return was the theme of my last entry as well.
My life has become unbelievably busy, with January heralding the beginning of my university year. Somehow when I was 19 I attended university full-time and worked in a restaurant at night part time only. Now I attend University full time (a BA in 3 years), look after Starbucks part time, work part time (18 hours) and try to run our house and enjoy my husband. I am seriously behind in my studying and have my first essay due on Monday- Social work law :(
I have been working on it every night after Starbucks has gone to bed (no matter how stressed I am determined that this degree will not impact on her) until late. I also have a cold, and I am pregnant again. Making me very tired and unable to take anything for the cold.
So this afternoon I got some time off work and came home to do my essay, but the happiest part of my day has been cleaning the bathroom, and cooking a lasagne for my family to eat together tonight. I am amazed, but this does really make me happier. Stuff the degree, the powerful shirt wearing social worker who kicks poverty's butt. I want to be a wife and mum first.
My life has become unbelievably busy, with January heralding the beginning of my university year. Somehow when I was 19 I attended university full-time and worked in a restaurant at night part time only. Now I attend University full time (a BA in 3 years), look after Starbucks part time, work part time (18 hours) and try to run our house and enjoy my husband. I am seriously behind in my studying and have my first essay due on Monday- Social work law :(
I have been working on it every night after Starbucks has gone to bed (no matter how stressed I am determined that this degree will not impact on her) until late. I also have a cold, and I am pregnant again. Making me very tired and unable to take anything for the cold.
So this afternoon I got some time off work and came home to do my essay, but the happiest part of my day has been cleaning the bathroom, and cooking a lasagne for my family to eat together tonight. I am amazed, but this does really make me happier. Stuff the degree, the powerful shirt wearing social worker who kicks poverty's butt. I want to be a wife and mum first.
Saturday, January 04, 2014
January - A Woman of Valor
Rachel Held Even's* wrote about Valour this month. 'A wife of noble character, who can find?'- Prov 31:10. She argues that Proverbs 31 was not written to instruct all women in how to be good wives, but to highlighy and draw attention to 'the often over-looked glory of the everyday'.
Her tasks this week included:
- Getting up before dawn ('She gets up while it is still dark -Prov 31:15)
- Practicing contemplative prayer ('A woman who fears the Lord should be praised' Prov 31:30)
- Work out her arms ('She girds herself with strength and makes her arms strong' Prov 31:17)
- Making every meal and keeping the house clean ('She provides food for her family Prov 31:15 and 'She watches over the affairs on the home' Prov 31:27).
- Doing something nice for her husband ('She does him good and not evil' Prov 31:12)
-Avoiding Facebook, Twitter and TV ('She does not eat the bread of idleness' Prov 31:27)
- Keeping working until 9pm ('Her lamp does not go out at night' Prov 31:18)
At first glance these task seem to be VERY loosely related to the actual bible verses and a lot of interpretation needed to get the link between them. However I like the principle of keeping busy around the home and not gossiping or doing 'unproductive things' (like read the dailymail website, continually look at Next baby clothes online, stare into space). I don't find it challenging to believe that women should cook and clean and look after the home and their man. However, I also live in a household where my husband earns significantly more than me, and he really is the one keeping us afloat financially. If this was different perhaps I'd question these roles. Should the person earning less money run the household, or the woman????
She also set herself an LARGE amount of sewing and craft tasks (9 things to be made) which she then had to get her friend over to help her make as she did not have time. I really like making things, and find I have nowhere near enough time to actually do any of the things I want to do. Currently half made in my house are:
- 3 t-shirts
- a rag doll
- some letters to spell out Starbuck's name
- a dress to be made from Xss' old shirt for Starbucks
- 2 pairs of fairy wings
- a half painted canvas (it will eventually be a painting of an old tree with rope swing?)
- 9 flying hearts (these are actually 'complete' but need to be attached to string somehow so that they can be hung up
- a pair of PJ bottoms for Xss.
And this is with me trying to show restraint and not making new things without finishing something else beforehand. I need a sewing machine for some of these projects and don't know if I should buy one. So this months tasks got me to wondering, 'I believe in the bible, maybe I need to sew'. Maybe its innate. Maybe I'm doing the wrong job, perhaps I need to start my own business selling organic homemade crayons, or not make money at all but spend all day everyday making all my families clothes and gifts, and cooking and cleaning. In someways this sounds idyllic, but because most of my art projects actually end up in the bin, I would definitely fail. And who would I talk to when I was at home in my small holding in the country knitting away? the chickens. I'd be a mad woman. Geeks need company.
After struggling to sew all her projects, cook everyday and avoid TV Rachel got some good advice from a Jewish lady on what the meaning of valour is:
'Christians seem to think that because the bible is inspired, all of it should be taken literally. Jews don't do this. Even though we take the torah literally (all 613 commandments!), the rest is seen differently, as a way of understanding our Creator, rather than direct commands. Take Proverbs 3, for example. I get called an 'Eshet chayil' (a valourous woman) all the time. Make your own challah instead of buying? Eshet chayil! Work to earn some extra money for the family? Eshet chayil! Make balloon animals for the kids at Shul? Eshet chayil! Every week at the Shabbat table, my husband sings the proverbs 31 poem to me. It's special because I know that no matter what I do or don't do, he praises me for blessing the family with my energy and creativity. All women can do that in their own way. I bet you do as well.'
So 'Eshet chayil' is an original way of saying 'Girl Power'. Wouldn't it be nice if this came back and rather than high fiving over getting a date with the hottest guy around or having a boob job, girls were offering kudos for managing to win in the constant battle with bath mould, or preventing anyone from hopping around with a hurt town by putting away the Lego every night. Girl Power!
In this way we should focus on the 'smaller' accomplishments in our everyday lives. And those in-tune with our personality. We should praise each other (well our men should especially) for doing what we do well. We all have talents and we should be proud of these and our own achievements, not striving to be somebody else. Great. Now to work out what my own talents are........ I like shoes with big tongues, is that a talent?
Seriously though Debs, your blog got me thinking. We ARE experts in parenting difficult children. Perhaps we need to set up our own brat camp in Canada. or our own supernanny for teenagers company??? You in?
30/52 Happy? That I have my own unique talents, despite not really knowing what they are.
Her tasks this week included:
- Getting up before dawn ('She gets up while it is still dark -Prov 31:15)
- Practicing contemplative prayer ('A woman who fears the Lord should be praised' Prov 31:30)
- Work out her arms ('She girds herself with strength and makes her arms strong' Prov 31:17)
- Making every meal and keeping the house clean ('She provides food for her family Prov 31:15 and 'She watches over the affairs on the home' Prov 31:27).
- Doing something nice for her husband ('She does him good and not evil' Prov 31:12)
-Avoiding Facebook, Twitter and TV ('She does not eat the bread of idleness' Prov 31:27)
- Keeping working until 9pm ('Her lamp does not go out at night' Prov 31:18)
At first glance these task seem to be VERY loosely related to the actual bible verses and a lot of interpretation needed to get the link between them. However I like the principle of keeping busy around the home and not gossiping or doing 'unproductive things' (like read the dailymail website, continually look at Next baby clothes online, stare into space). I don't find it challenging to believe that women should cook and clean and look after the home and their man. However, I also live in a household where my husband earns significantly more than me, and he really is the one keeping us afloat financially. If this was different perhaps I'd question these roles. Should the person earning less money run the household, or the woman????
She also set herself an LARGE amount of sewing and craft tasks (9 things to be made) which she then had to get her friend over to help her make as she did not have time. I really like making things, and find I have nowhere near enough time to actually do any of the things I want to do. Currently half made in my house are:
- 3 t-shirts
- a rag doll
- some letters to spell out Starbuck's name
- a dress to be made from Xss' old shirt for Starbucks
- 2 pairs of fairy wings
- a half painted canvas (it will eventually be a painting of an old tree with rope swing?)
- 9 flying hearts (these are actually 'complete' but need to be attached to string somehow so that they can be hung up
- a pair of PJ bottoms for Xss.
And this is with me trying to show restraint and not making new things without finishing something else beforehand. I need a sewing machine for some of these projects and don't know if I should buy one. So this months tasks got me to wondering, 'I believe in the bible, maybe I need to sew'. Maybe its innate. Maybe I'm doing the wrong job, perhaps I need to start my own business selling organic homemade crayons, or not make money at all but spend all day everyday making all my families clothes and gifts, and cooking and cleaning. In someways this sounds idyllic, but because most of my art projects actually end up in the bin, I would definitely fail. And who would I talk to when I was at home in my small holding in the country knitting away? the chickens. I'd be a mad woman. Geeks need company.
After struggling to sew all her projects, cook everyday and avoid TV Rachel got some good advice from a Jewish lady on what the meaning of valour is:
'Christians seem to think that because the bible is inspired, all of it should be taken literally. Jews don't do this. Even though we take the torah literally (all 613 commandments!), the rest is seen differently, as a way of understanding our Creator, rather than direct commands. Take Proverbs 3, for example. I get called an 'Eshet chayil' (a valourous woman) all the time. Make your own challah instead of buying? Eshet chayil! Work to earn some extra money for the family? Eshet chayil! Make balloon animals for the kids at Shul? Eshet chayil! Every week at the Shabbat table, my husband sings the proverbs 31 poem to me. It's special because I know that no matter what I do or don't do, he praises me for blessing the family with my energy and creativity. All women can do that in their own way. I bet you do as well.'
So 'Eshet chayil' is an original way of saying 'Girl Power'. Wouldn't it be nice if this came back and rather than high fiving over getting a date with the hottest guy around or having a boob job, girls were offering kudos for managing to win in the constant battle with bath mould, or preventing anyone from hopping around with a hurt town by putting away the Lego every night. Girl Power!
In this way we should focus on the 'smaller' accomplishments in our everyday lives. And those in-tune with our personality. We should praise each other (well our men should especially) for doing what we do well. We all have talents and we should be proud of these and our own achievements, not striving to be somebody else. Great. Now to work out what my own talents are........ I like shoes with big tongues, is that a talent?
Seriously though Debs, your blog got me thinking. We ARE experts in parenting difficult children. Perhaps we need to set up our own brat camp in Canada. or our own supernanny for teenagers company??? You in?
30/52 Happy? That I have my own unique talents, despite not really knowing what they are.
A day well spent
Playing with Starbucks' new toys.
29/52 Happy? Getting to play with all the things you wish you had of had as a child.
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