Needs of a Bean...

Due to life and aspirations, dreams, ages, choices and distances, I separated from my son's father whilst I was still pregnant. He needed a different life to the prospect of one with me and a Pre-Bean. The Bean, as a foetus, was not yet four months 'along' and I no longer had my fiancé and I was back in a country I hadn't lived in for a year and a half. I was jobless, broke and shocked into a reality I had not at all planned for.

I was also fairly heart broken.

But figuring it all out, that's the good stuff, right there.

Then when The Bean was a baby, I got some court orders signed and put into place regarding my sole parental responsibility, restrictions regarding international travel with anyone other than me and other similar legal matters. These orders were signed by both me and his father and presumably dispelled the need for me to request his father's permission/consent for all manner of life's forms. Although they did allow for the possibility of visits, contact and communication between he and his father.

That was nearly five years ago...

Just before The Bean was born, his father's sister (The Bean's 20 year old paternal Aunt) was killed in a horrible and traumatic bus accident. Unfortunately, The Bean's father witnessed this and 'was never the same again'.

When The Bean was one and a half I sent photos and update emails to his father and his paternal grandparents. They responded well.

When The Bean was three, and despite the previous court orders, I had to send all manner of emails and forms and requests for The Bean's passport to get approved, to The Bean's father in Canada. Because the court orders did not say exactly the right thing and, to have a whinge, the passport office is slightly more than pedantic, this would need to continue to happen every time The Bean needed a new passport.

When The Bean was three and a half I contacted his father to ask if he would like to begin some telephone contact with The Bean. The Bean had heard lots about dads and fathers at kinder and was in turn, asking lots of questions. Over the course of the following couple of months, The Bean's father responded to the negative.

This broke my heart again.

But one gets on with things and distraction is key with little people and Papas and Uncles and Guitar/Drum Teachers and Kinder Assistants and friends who are also Dads are gold in the role model department and wonderful at showing what being a good man is. The Bean does not lack positivity or love.

He just doesn't have a 'dad'.

But when, in no uncertain terms, The Bean's father expressed his thoughts, I figured some new court orders, without the passport office loophole, could be the next step.

I waited a year. Just in case he changed his mind about communication.

He didn't.

And today I signed some new orders.

I had them drawn up and they have been going between my solicitor and him, he hasn't contacted me. He signed without complaint and without dispute.

I believed that if the passport office can find a loophole, I never wanted anyone else to find a loophole. Especially other potential government agencies that, say, might have power to withhold treatment or funding or assistance to people with Asperger's without the consent of both parents.

I never wanted for my son's father's absence to impact on what my son needs.

I also have something of a stubbornness issue, an independence about me that never liked to ask permission to do things, especially from someone who has absolutely nothing to do with my life anymore.

Or the life of the life we created.

So in drawing up these papers my solicitor did have to inform The Bean's father about the Asperger's diagnosis. I wasn't keen on this before she sent them, but her explanations were acceptable and I let it go.

But in signing these papers, this morning, I realised that he knows. The Bean's father knows now that The Bean has Asperger's. Not, I guess, that I truly expected him to react to me, but I guess a part of you doesn't let go of certain things. Well, maybe just a part of me.

And I'm sad. And angry. That a person that I used to love, so much, can hear something about someone that I do love, immeasurably, and not react. I'm angry that, although stubbornly independent, he has never offered anything. Not a cent, not a word of support and now, not a word of encouragement or love or assistance.

And I can hear those that champion for me now - I don't need his recognition or approval. I don't need his support. I don't need his love. I don't need his money. I don't need anything from him or his family.

I know that.

But maybe a piece of me did need that stuff.

Things The Bean has said:

1. When The Bean is behaving badly, I count to five and if he hasn't stopped, he has to sit at the wall in the hallway. Think 'time out', but in my house, it's just 'sitting at the wall'. Of course, he hates it.

Me: 1... 2... 3... 4...

TB: All RIGHT! Mama, I don't like counting to five and then I have to sit at the wall. Just count to four and I'll listen.

2.

Me: Don't be ridiculous.

TB: Is that a dinosaur?

Me: Your face is a dinosaur.

TB *eye roll*: Mama...

3.

Me: Can you please put the cutlery away?

TB: Grrrrrr.

Me: Excuse me?!

TB: I wasn't growling at you, I just have to make that noise when I fly.

4. Angry Birds 1.

Me: Stop jumping on the couch.

TB: I'm not, I'm playing Angry Birds.

5. Aunty Lee 1.

The Bean's Aunty Lee had an art exhibition. Her work was in the Visual Media space.

TB: I like all the artworks Aunty Lee, but where's the artworks on the papery things?

6. Jeopardy 1.

My parents love a TV quiz show, The Bean was watching.

TB: What is the Mississippi?

(no this was not the correct answer)

7. Aunty Lee 2.

AL: Are you going to be an artist when you get bigger?

TB: Maybe, and I'm going to drive Puffing Billy.

8. Angry Birds 2:

TB: Mama, look at this Tweet Tweet bird.

Me: Is it going to break my couch?

TB: No, it's happy to the couch.

9. Motors 1.

TB: When I grow up I'm going to get a Honda Accord.

10. Aunty Lee 3.

Aunty Lee was getting The Bean out of the bath and she scraped her back on the closing shower screen door.

TB (nude): Oh no Aunty Lee! Do you want me to get the paw paw cream?

11. Jeopardy 2.

TB: What is a Christmas Tree?

12. Angry Birds 3. (Made up birds?)

TB: Blue giant birds shoot fire and green giant birds squirt slime whenever they get to the tower.

13. Motors 2.

TB: On the bus to the zoo, Kade said that a Lexus was a Lectus. He's so silly.

14. Angry Birds 4.

Me: STOP playing Angry Birds on my couch! PLEASE!

TB: I have to, it's my exercise.

appealing to one's trainspotting nature

One Sunday we went on a mountain steam train adventure.

The Bean is currently fairly obsessed with trains with 'dirty wheels'. I'm still not 100% sure what that means but I know it has something to do with trains that aren't your regular passenger metro type train, steam trains have 'dirty wheels', the 'dirt train' (the cargo train that travels past our house a few times a day) has dirty wheels and most model trains also have 'dirty wheels'. When, a fortnight ago, he had a complete melt down about wanting a train with dirty wheels it took a few guesses and a couple of days of cajoling to figure the entire situation out.

And as his Asperger's has now got confirmation and diagnosis and applications for funding and assistance and intervention at countless government age ncies are set in motion. I'm seeing a pediatrician to simply help me complete some applications that she believes, and I quote, "you need a bloody PhD just to fill out the forms", I'm starting to get a little picture about how the Bean's brain works and why 'dirty wheel trains' can mean

so much to him.

And tantrums, also from what I've read, are one of the most common symptoms of those diagnosed with Autism Spectrum disorders yet at times, are the most difficult to deal with. It's not just a throw down about wanting chocolate or no getting one's own way, although they certainly can be triggered by those things as well, but they seem to be much more illogical, to you or I, than any normal reason to crack it. The Bean's melt downs tend to happen more when he's tired, at the end of busy days, when he is obsessed with something and his focus has been interrupted or if plans have had to change and he wanted to do what was originally planned.

Fortunately, however, I can be a hard-arse, teaching teenagers has helped enormously in some regards, as I tend not to back down over the little things. As I'm also learning from my teenagers that may or may not be diagnosed with similar traits.

Although, I am learning to pick my battles. Checking myself with what's really important, helping him with things that used to frustrate me that he couldn't do alone, yet now I understand that he just needs to be guided and focused more often, I can't just say, "quick, go get dressed" then walk away. I can't rush him. I can't call out from the other room.

I need to sit with him on the floor to avoid shouting at him to hurry up.

I need to ask him to do things in stage, "jocks... (pause)... shorts... (pause)... t-shirt... (pause)... socks... (pause)... shoes..." He's not stupid or trying to frustrate me, he just needs my help. Otherwise, I'd walk in, running late for work as always, and find him naked, reading a book in only his socks. Generally, on inside out.

I was never going to use bribery as a parenting technique. It doesn't work from every parenting experts' opinion, except parents of ASD kids tend to use it to help with the melt downs. Melt downs, in my experience, so only in relation to The Bean, tend not to relate to wanting toys or lollies at the super market check out lane because he has never been bought those for bribery. He never gets treats like that anyway. I bribe the Jelly Bean with being allowed to watch the Dinosaur movie (Walking With Dinosaurs), How to Train Your Dragon or Playschool, Chuggington, Charlie and Lola/Cars or WALL-E, we can go to the park or library or beach, or we can't go to those places. I do threaten to take treats like these away if he misbehaves too much as I certainly don't reward bad behaviour. I try to reward good behaviour.

But the train with the dirty wheels had me completely beaten.

The melt downs were ongoing. They lasted on and off for a few days. He brought the subject up at every opportunity. And I'd worked out that he wanted trains like a family friend's of ours. These model trains however, are worth thousands of dollars and although I'd explained to The Bean that I didn't have that kind of money, I couldn't get it into his head that we simply couldn't afford such a train track. He continued to melt down for days and they were tiring and heart breaking for us both.

I felt a bribe-ish type of compromise was all I could think of to diminish the pain.

I looked on ebay and searched used goods sites, I found there were some more affordable options, starter sets and so on, but still felt as though a proper model track was a bit too fragile for my nearing five year old. I did find one, it wasn't a proper model set, it wasn't metal and fragile. It is plasticky and runs on batteries, which does not appeal to my conservational nature, but I thought the wheels looked dirty enough.

I told him he could have it for his birthday. He stopped melting down. Immediately. He accepted that graciously and hasn't nagged me to have it since.

Because there is a plan.

I even showed him the box. He saw it and didn't ask to have it now. He knew it was for his birthday. Which isn't until February. And I was so bloody proud of him.

He's cool, honey bunny.

And I began to understand that the melt downs were about the prospect of never having a train track.

About never being allowed to have trains and remotes and stations and little people and little cars and trees and street lights. The track that I've gotten him for now has none of these things.

About the very real dream of dirty wheel trains never being realised.

I will look at getting him some real pieces when he's less rough and tumble and more likely to look after a proper starter set or real model trains, when he's 8 or 9 or something. The track I've got is just a toy.

But it has dirty wheels and that makes my Jelly Bean happy.

Things The Bean has said:

1. Late one Sunday night...

Me: You're so tired, you doing these ones

*I slow blink at him*

TB: That's not tired, that's just doing thinking.

2. After a bath.

Me: Can you please put your clothes in the basket?

*TB jumps up and down, naked, making faces in the bathroom mirror*

TB I don't have 100 hands.

3. At his Ninna and Papa's house - Part 1.

Me: Can you please put these toys away so we can get going?

*TB walks to the front door*

TB: I'm just a bit busy looking at the world right now.

4.

TB: This dragon doesn't breathe fire, he squirts water. Fire makes him cough.

5.

TB: I've got a very bad headache in my tummy.

6. An example of a daily argument 1 - at the dinner table.

Me: Close your mouth when you're eating.

TB: Dinosaurs eat like this. I'm a dinosaur. I need my mouth open.

7.

TB: Mama, feel my tummy. The noodles are in there saying "Surprise! Come down here!!"

Me: Who are they saying that to?

TB: That cupcake over there.

8.

Me: I love you so much.

TB: I love you so much.

*I grab his cheeks*

Me: I think I'm just going to eat you up. I'm gonna eat your cheeks and your ears and your arms and all of your pieces.

TB: Noooooooooo! I want to stay OUT of your tummy.

9. An example of a daily argument 2 - on the way to kinder/work.

TB: Mama, you've gone the wrong way.

Me: No it's just a different way.

TB: Ok, it's a different way, but if you want to go the right way then you need to start again and go over the bridge.

10. At his Ninna and Papa's house - Part 2.

TB: Fart is a dangerous word.

N: Why?

TB: It's an 'F' word.

11.

TB: Mama, one ichthyosaur has been eaten. This dragon-osaur went like this...

12. To the tune of 'Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer'.

TB: Then one froggy Christmas eve, the dinosaurs came to say... Look at this mass-ive brachiosaurus...

13. After one of those days.

TB: Mama, today is a rubbish day.

14.

TB: Butterflies are better aren't they?

Me: Yeah, they're pretty cool.

TB: And because they eat butter. They slice it with their wings.

15.

TB: Mangoes are my favorite vegetable.

Me: They're a fruit, babe, but they're my favourite fruit, too. I though bananas were your favourite, though? Do you like mangoes even more than bananas?

TB: I like them twenty metres more than bananas!

16. As susceptible to advertising as the rest of us.

TB: Mama, guess what?

Me: What?

TB: I heard someone say milkshake!

Me (a little sarcastically): Wow, really?

TB: Can I have a milkshake?

17. Watching 'Walking with Dinosaurs'

Me: Do you still want to be a paleontologist when you grow up?

TB: No.

Me: You changed your mind?

TB: Yeah, I want to drive Puffing Billy.

18. Saying good night.

Me *squishing him goodnight*: I love you so much I could squash your head.

TB: Mama, you're weird.

I'm going to tell you how to eat Basghetti...

When I was about 21 a friend of mine from university gave me a book for my birthday. I was going through a Wiccan phase and she bought me an Oracle. I asked it all manner of questions and the only one I can remember was "Am I ever going to have children?" The book answered, and I remember it clearly over 10 years later, with: "You will be more of a parent to other people's children".

This statement had many follow on reactions in me.
1. I'd always thought I'd have heaps of kids, the first at age 27.
2. I had been with my partner, at the time, for quite a number of years and always thought we'd fill the world with love and our own very tall blue eyed children.
3. Does this mean I can't have babies?
4. Does this mean I'll adopt?
5. Does this mean I'll be that awesome parent that other teenagers like hanging out with because their own parents are just not any good?

About 3 years later, after the end of that relationship and at the end of my second lot of university, I decided that the Oracle had said this as I was in fact destined to be a teacher. I would be more of a parent to other people's children because I was going to be the best damned Media teacher, next to my mentor, that ever there was.

And then, 3 years after that, at aged 27, mind, I found myself in a very new relationship, with a man I adored, and we both were faced with the surprise situation of there being a baby for both of us. Ultimately, this situation was too much for our relationship and also then for the man that I had adored, but the bean sized critter was there. And I was faced with the choice of having a little person by myself or continuing on the way I always had. Pondering whether this was going to be the only time that my belly was going to be able to grow babies in it, because I was 27 and pregnant and the book said I would be more of a parent to other people's babies. But there was a bean. And the book said.

And then there was The Bean.

But had I not received that Oracle. Had I not, at the time, and then again, time after time, believed what it had said, my life, as we all know it, could be a completely different place.

And as Back to the Future III and Terminator II tells us, no one's future is set. There is no fate but what we make. We choose our own destinies.

I was just out of being a teenager and I was worrying about my potential for babies. I was a Wiccan for about 7 months. I don't believe that a book could know what's going to happen in my life. A book that isn't even a person, and I do tend to believe that the veils of time and death and life and intuition can be thinner for some people that for others, but honestly, a book?

But without that book.

Without that book I might not have a job that I love. I might, in fact, hate going to work every day. At the moment, and all of today in fact, I SHOULD have been marking VCE work. I didn't. I hung out with my mum. I hung out with my son. We planted pumpkin seeds, chili seeds, a few dead potatoes from the back of the cupboard and a squishy beetroot from the vegetable crisper and covered them all with worm juice (the DISGUSTINGLY stinky watery fertilizer stuff that comes out of the bottom of our worm farm). Right now, I could be marking, but I'm not. I'm writing, which I haven't done for weeks. After I've finished writing I'm going to watch an episode of Mad Men. Tomorrow I will probably feel guilty and stressed because I haven't done my marking. Because school starts back tomorrow. Because my year 12s are about to start exams. Because I'm supposed to be a good teacher. Because I have to be a good parent to the ones that aren't mine, too.

And without that book.

I wouldn't get to draw the heads (I'm not any good at drawing bodies) of dinosaurs/dragons on the driveway in chalk. I might not have been able to be proud of a 4 year old who shouts at a tree because he's just so angry. I might not get to laugh at his quirks and his hilarious calls. I might not have all the fairy lights in my house, even though they make me happy, I believe they also make him calm. I might not have a picture on the fridge of me and my son and my house and his name. My son that has not ever liked drawing or writing. My son whose brain doesn't work the same way as everyone else's. My son who is all mine.

Without that book, and Back to the Future III and Terminator II, all this could've been someone else's. Or nobody's. And that would have been the most tragic story I'd ever heard...



Things The Bean has said: (It's a LONG one!)
1. Reaching all limbs up around his neck/head/shoulders region.
TB: Mama, this is your back bit. It's very hard to reach it and scratch it.

2. Picks up a cup of water I'd just put on the bench for him
TB: Mama, is this water safe for drinking?

3.
Me (from the other room): Will you put those cars away please?
TB: Will you stop being a big mother dragon just for a minute?!

4. Playing cars TB: Whoah Mama, did you see that? It was riveting!

5. After a breakfast of four vita brits and a banana
TB: Do you have ice cream?
Me: No, and you're not having ice cream now anyway. You can have an apple if you're still hungry.
TB: No, I don't want an apple. I'll just think about what I want. (starts to walk away).
Me: No, actually, I think I'll decide what you can have thanks, 'cause who am I?
TB: The Mama.
Me: And?
TB: The teacher.
Me: And the boss.
TB: Um, no, I'll just think about what I want and I'll get back to you.

6. After Rock Band (a music lesson group thing for little people who have Rockin' parents!)
TB: I don't like the drums anymore. It gives me a headache in my head and my brain and my eye brows and inside myself. I only like the red guitar.

7. Asperger's kicks in.
TB: I can't eat out of a yellow bowl.

8. Listening to the Buena Vista Social Club soundtrack
Me: Hear this music? It's from a place called Cuba. We're going to go there one day, maybe in a bout two years. Do you wanna go there and listen to this music?

TB: Oh, I dunno, I don't work.

9.
TB: But why?
Me: 'Cause.
TB: Not "'cause", Mama, it's 'BECAUSE'!

10. Gastro Part I
TB: Vomit is not my favourite and it's not my best.

11. Gastro Part II
TB: Do these clothes go in the basket now because they smell like breakfast.

12. Gastro Part III
TB: I had to put my hand on my tummy and my hand on my mouth so I couldn't spew everywhere.

13. Gastro Part IV (Actually, vomits IN the toilet)
TB: Look, Mama, I WIN!!!

14.
TB: Mama, the ornitholestes is saying this to the diplodocus, "I'm the baddest dinosaur!"

15.
TB: I'm going to tell you how to eat Basghetti. You pick up your fork and you EAT IT! Bwahahahahahahaha!!!

(un)diagnosed

This week we visited the peadiatrician for the second time. We spent nearly two hours with her in her office. I had had some concerns about the Bean's behaviours, his emotional reactions, his development at kinder and his constant colds. I figured a full scale check up and re-address of concerns earlier looked at might give some insight into what was going down.

She is 'fairly certain' that my son has Asperger Syndrome. He has some more assessments to do before a comprehensive diagnosis can be made. Speech pathologists and childhood psychologists to see, a hearing test next week and many more appointments with all of the above to attend to over the rest of his life, I can only assume.

And I'm ok. Because he's ok.

The doctor said that he is thriving because I'm strict with him. Because he has routines. Because I explain what's happening and where we're going and what we're doing before we do it. Because he eats well. Because he has security and stability and consistency in his life.

Because maybe my parenting is reflective of my instincts about his needs. Or maybe because my needs are similar.

He is high functioning. He is hilarious. He is quirky and eccentric. He has focused interests. He can talk 'til the cows come home about whatever it is that he is interested in.

But we've known that from the start.

Dinosaurs. Sharks. Cars. Dragons. Trains. Spaceships. Books.

And he will need social skills training, Occupational Therapy, Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, speech therapy, intervention (And I'm not really sure what that even means, will we need to write him a letter and read it out loud to tell him our feelings???)

But I am relieved.

And some people don't understand this relief. Or don't believe the diagnosis. I spoke to his kinder teacher and asked if I was jumping on the latest band wagon to excuse poor behaviour (read the over-diagnosis and medication of ADHD judgment poring out of me). She said that she and I are the ones who spend the most amount of time with him. We see the reactions. We experience the over-reactions. We try to calm down the tears. We try to encourage the skills. We try to encourage relationships. We try to understand the way his brain works. Others are trying to support me and for that I thank them.

But I am relieved.

It has all been given a name. It means that there is learning I can do. That I can find more efficient ways to communicate with him. That he can hopefully live a fairly 'normal' life, although normal is not what I really want for him. Extraordinary. Adventurous. Exciting. They're the adjectives I want for him.

And he is already all of those things.

So we'll be good.

Things The Bean has said:

1. My mum gave the Bean a Human Body book, filled with heaps of facts and pictures and transparent layers. (It's kinda gross)
TB: Mama, what's this? (Points to organs page)
Me: It's your liver.
TB: Mama, my liver is very sore and it makes me fall over.

2. We've been watching/working on the school musical in the past few weeks.
Me (singing and dancing the tap dance parts - in my ugg boots)
TB: Please don't dance like that Mama, you haven't got pat shoes on.

inspirational

I haven't been able to write much lately. I've written two draft blogs and never finished them. I've looked at a few short story ideas for the Short Things page and not posted them. I've run outta 'Joie' and I HATE it!

For people like me, (bubbly when nervous, high expectations of oneself, perfectionist, slightly OCD, silly yet serious, over reacting high achievers) those inspirational quotes that people post on facebook, or that can be found on MLK cards or those white background/black writing magnets that have lots of hearts on them can be very uplifting yet equally and simultaneously depressing and naff. However, as one such person that is about ready for the sunshine to actually come out and stay out and for the snot in my household to actually be gone, they seem to be having an enormous impact (right when I thought I was smarter than that).

Some of the inspirational things I have read or seen or heard lately are here for you to ponder and also analyse (as I am want to do) but hopefully, there is one little thing written below that will help you get through the winter blues that are really getting irritating here in Melbourne (for those of you reading where the sunshine is, please bookmark this page and remember to have a read this coming January)!

* From one of those afore mentioned black/white magnet thingys -
"Open your mind, heart and arms to new things and new people, we are united in our differences. Ask the next person you see what their passion is, and share your inspiring dream with them... "

* From a youtube video/short film of the poet Tanya Davies' poem/song - How to Be Alone:
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs)

"Go to the woods alone, and the trees and squirrels will watch for you. Go to an unfamiliar city, roam the streets, they are always statues to talk to, and benches made for sitting gives strangers a shared existence if only for a minute, and these moments can be so uplifting and the conversation you get in by sitting alone on benches, might've never happened had you not been there by yourself.

Society is afraid of alone though. Like lonely hearts are wasting away in basements. Like people must have problems if after awhile nobody is dating them."

* From another poet/author - Eve Ensler and her TED address, "I'm an Emotional Creature"
(poem can be found here - http://www.huffingtonpost.com/eve-ensler/i-am-an-emotional-creatur_b_468801.html
video here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aI0m_kpYIiw&feature=related)

"... Don't tell me not to cry.
To calm it down
Not to be so extreme
To be reasonable.
I am an emotional creature.
It's how the earth got made.
How the wind continues to pollinate.
You don't tell the Atlantic ocean
to behave. I am an emotional creature.
Why would you want to shut me down
or turn me off? ..."

* From How to Train Your Dragon. (Spoiler alert)

When Toothless gets taken by Stoick.

Astrid: I bet he's really frightened right now, so what are you gonna do about it?
Hiccup: Probably something stupid.
Astrid: Good, but you've already done that.
Hiccup: Then maybe somethin' crazy!
Astrid: That's more like it.

(Although my actual FAVOURITE quote from this film is when the trainees are told to read the Dragon Manual...

Snotlout: Read?! Why read words when we could just kill the stuff the words tell you stuff about?!)

* From His Holiness the Dalai Lama

"One should always approach love and cooking with reckless abandon."

* From Saint Augustine:

"The World is a book, and those who do not travel read only a page."

* From Elvis to Jesus and a whole bunch of psychologists - a mash up of the words below:

"For contentment one needs Someone to Love, Something they Love to Do and Something to Look Forward to..."

Mine are here as an examples:
a. Someone to Love - 1. Of course my family and friends and 2. my students and 3. all the compassion for all the entire human race, however, I focus most of my happy, sad, intense, crazy, protective, lioness love onto 4. that hilarious, blue-eyed Bean I keep going on about.

b. Something I Love to do - (as there is a fine line between love and hate in lots of ways, the following all have aspects of both, because we all need balance in our lives) 1. Roller Skating/Derby, 2. Reading well written books, 3. watching great films/TV shows, 4. hanging out in the park in the sunshine and 5. planning for overseas holidays (I LOVE a good calendar/budget/website/spreadsheet) and 6. my job - I love it and I'm aware of how lucky that makes me.

c. Something to Look Forward to - 1. our upcoming Trip to the USA, although I am yet to buy our tickets because I'm waiting to find out when 2. the Red Hot Chili Peppers will be touring Australia with their New Album 3. I'm With You which is released at the end of this month.

I feel much better now.


Things The Bean has said:

1. I remain silent through the whole of the following:

TB: Mama, Do you know that little creature that has wings?

It's a bird.

Do you know that big creature that has wings?

It's a dragon

Do you know that really big creature that doesn’t have wings and goes on the train tracks?

It's a train

2. Asking questions about our USA trip at the end of the year:

i. TB: Mama are we going to San Fran Sicko

ii. TB: Where’s texta?

iii. TB: Are we going to Mississippi?

iv. TB: Why can't we go to O-why-hee?

3. Clearly the latest nursery rhyme from kinder:

TB: Mary had a little lamb,

It was soft and fluffy

Like a new lamb

It chased Mary to school one day

School one day

School one day

In a rocket

4. In bed singing songs

TB: Choose a song, Mama.

Me: Do the duck song

TB: No, I’ve already done that one

Me: Well can you do the Jelly Bean gets up and goes to the toilet and gets his slippers and dressing gown on song?

TB: Mama that’s not even a song

5. After watching a cartoon with a sunburned, albino, humpback whale ghost (I know, right?!)

TB: *whiney* Mama, I can't finish spooning my soup into my mouth because I’m a humpback whale with sunburn and my fin is hurting.

6. After grumbling about getting up

TB: I did do some wees mama

Me: Did you?

TB: Yep cause I love you all the time

7. Peeling apples

Me: Can you please starting eating the skin

TB: No, I can’t eat the skin, it’s really not healthy for you.

8.

TB: Mama I’ve run outta fire in my throat,

Me *a little sarcastically*: Oh no, that’s a real shame.

TB: But don’t worry, it's ok. I’ve still got lots of steam out of my eyes

9. The truth comes out.

Me: Do you know how clever I think you are?

TB: Lots of clever.

Me: Do you know how proud I am of you?

TB: Lots of proud.

Me: Do you know how wonderful I think you are?

TB: Lots of wonderful.

Me: Do you know how much I want to eat your face off?

TB: Not ever! if you eat my face off it might be yucky and you'll have to spit it out. *pause* You can't eat four year olds, Mama, they're yucky.

10. Lunch part 1 (aka Soylent Green?)

Me: What did you have for lunch at kinder today?

TB: We had some soup. And I had one piece of bread. *pause* and it was people.

11. Winks at me as he's walking away.

TB: Mama, I'm keeping my eye on you.

12. Lunch Part 2 (obviously another day)

Me What did you have for lunch today at kinder?

TB: We had blobby macaroni and cheese. It tasted like frogs. *pause* Mama, what's in frogs?

Peace and Love

I have just had a birthday. I'm now an odd number and although I'm an odd person, I'm a little prejudiced against odd numbers. They inherently, within their title, don't make sense. I'm, in some ways, a very sensible person. In others, illogical. Or as one friend coined the term, I suffer interminably from a major case of 'Sam Logic'. I was born on the cusp of two star signs, two very oppositional star signs. Cancer/Leo. Moon/Sun. Water/Fire. Hides in Shell. Stands on Stage. Logical/Emotional. Even the notion of star signs is one I question and believe in simultaneously. At times, it's very tiring being me, all this back and forth. Rational. Superstitious. Practical. Obsessive. Empowered. Guilt ridden. *yawn*

I have had a tough mental health week. I've been sick on and off for weeks. I argued with my mum. I cried. I panicked that my year 12s had no idea what they were supposed to do and that was ALL my fault. I cried. I shouted at my son for wriggling when I was pulling his t-shirt sleeve down once he'd put his hoodie on. I shouted at my son for annoying me. I cried. I shouted at my students for being teenagers. I shouted at my son for being four. Pretty much.

On Friday I had a whole bunch of friends and family over for a birthday dinner. It was a bring-a-plate Meze feast and I set up my house with the atmosphere and decor of a Bedouin tent. I had such a wonderful time, we ate, we shared, we laughed and disgusting stories, we smoked a hookah, people talked to strangers and it was wonderful.

Yesterday, I downloaded the new Chili Peppers song. I am the world's BIGGEST, MOST FAITHFUL Red Hot Chili Peppers fan and I waited 6 WHOLE days before downloading or hearing the new Chili Peppers song so I could download it as a birthday present to myself. I listened to it on repeat for over an hour. I hung out with my family for a birthday lunch. The Jelly Bean had called my Mum last week and asked her help him make me a Roller Skate cake. I requested the Roller Skate cake was a Chocolate Ripple cake. We watched the Foo Fighters' documentary. I took the Jelly Bean to see a Roller Derby Bout. I smiled a lot. I went to bed sleepy and content.

This morning I woke up and checked my facebook. I was excited to have a few new 'Happy Birthday' messages from my beautiful friends who live in other countries where it had become my birthday later than it had here. I share a birthday with Slash and Daniel Radcliffe. I looked on my home page and saw that Slash had commented upon the Norwegian tragedy. I googled it.

There were two Norwegian tragedies. A bomb that killed at least 7 people. The man accused of that bomb then travelled, in a police uniform, to a small island and shot, at gross pointe blank in many cases, into the faces, heads and bodies of over 85 young people. They are all dead. Because he believed in something different to them. For what they believed in.

Peacefully?

On the news page that I read, there was a link at the bottom of the page to another article. Amy Winehouse was found dead in her house in North London. She was 27.

The Jelly Bean and I love her music. A lot. People are making jokes on facebook. I explained to the Bean that she had died and he said 'That lady died?' and then the first comment he made this morning, once we began listening to her album 'Back to Black' was to repeat the lyrics in her song 'Just Friends':
TB: Mama, she said "and the guilt will kill you".

My son is four. My son is off with the pixies (or dragons) most of the time. My son loves being on stage. My son was recently at my school during our school production rehearsals and had control of the mic for over twenty minutes singing to 60 teenagers, who sang along with him. My son dances all the time. My son has recently transformed into a green dragon, having changed his filmic obsession from 'WALL-E' to 'How to train your Dragon'. My son 'flies' everywhere and we argue about the difference between him spitting on everything and this actually being 'fire from deep in his throat'. My son is a natural, confident performer. My son rocks a drum kit with those 15 years his senior. My son has rhythm and spunk and hilarity and charisma and charm and talent. My son will more than likely be involved in the dramatic/performing/comedic/musical arts. My son may not be famous. My son may not touch the world with his talent or gifts or words. But my son will believe in things. My son will feel things. My son will have issues. We all have issues.

My son, will one day be 27.

Nearly 100 young people famously died on my birthday this year. They were all somebody's children.

And the guilt that we feel for the little things, for shouting, for wriggling, for interrupting, for saying something that we thought was a joke but came out hurtful, for not being on our best behaviour, for hurting the feelings of those that we love, could be let go. We could apologise and remedy our mistake. Because the ongoing guilt could be energy spent better by loving. While they are here to love.

May they all Rest Eternally Peaceful.


Things The Bean has said:

1. Dragon Comment #1
TB: Mama, I have fire in my belly.
Me: Do you?
TB: Yep, and when I get angry at things I breathe fire on them.
Me: Will you breathe fire on me?
(The Bean looks at me with as much serious and attitude as is possible in any one face)
TB: Yes. ALL the time.

2. Dragon Comment #2
Me: Can you please stop spitting everywhere?
TB: It's not spit. I'm a real dragon. It's dragon fire.

3. Dragon Comment #3
TB: Mama, dragons eat everything. I eat everything, like special dip and biscuits.

4. We were doing a Three Little Pigs jigsaw puzzle.
TB: Mama, this pig looks really frustrated.

5. The Bean has been asking about what's in things. I mean - EVERYTHING. Here is a list so far:

- TB: Mama, what's in lights?
- TB: Mama, what's in chairs?
- TB: Mama, what's in trucks?
- TB: Mama, what's in Desmond? (Dr Mr Desmond 'The Tardis' is our car)
- TB: Mama, what's in a tardis?
- TB: Mama, what's in seals?
- TB: Mama, what's in Lightening McQueen?

6.
TB: Mama, what's in cats?
Me: I dunno, bones and muscles and organs and blood and stuff.
TB: I have blood in me. (That serious/attitude face returns) And heaps of fire.

7.
Me: Will you clean up that leggo so we can watch the Dragon movie?
TB: I will! Just relax.

a little thing about babies...

Very early this morning a very close friend of mine, gave birth to her very first baby. I am SO excited. I got a text message from her husband before my alarm went off and I can tell you which way I prefer to wake up!

I haven't visited yet, I have a cold, and 'they' tend not to look kindly on people who make babies sick. As another friend of mine would say, 'There's a special place in hell for people like that'.

I am SO excited.

And it has gotten me to thinking about the 'baby' thing. About the contemporary Western standing on having babies. On the books and the philosophies and the milestones and the Maternal Child Health Nurses and the mothers' groups and playgroups and activities and the off road prams and the rolling over and the eating solids and the breast feeding and the sleeping through the night and the sleeping in their cot and tummy time and cloth nappies and disposable wipes and anti-biotics and anti bacterial hand wash and dummies and formula and allergies and doing it all correctly.

And the pressure.

And I remember when The Bean was born, and how my life changed, literally, in an instant. How nothing else in the world mattered but him. But then the advice and the rules and the pressure set in and feeling that pressure to do it right because my personality tends to lend itself to believing things that other people say, in not necessarily always holding my own, or believing in myself. But when it comes to The Bean - I know best.

When it comes to our babies, we KNOW.

We know when they're tired. We know when they're hungry. We know when they want a cuddle, because it is usually when we want a cuddle. We know when they need a burp. We know when it's time to go to bed. Or time to get out of the house. They are people.

And sometimes we have no idea what's wrong. And sometimes, neither do they.

But we have always known, in our bodies, how to raise babies. We did this before there were books. Before the populace could read. Sometimes we got it wrong. Sometimes we get it wrong now, even with all the knowledge and the research and the getting rid of germs. In the majority of cases, our bodies can get our babies out into the world safely, but sometimes they can't. I'm not discouraging reading or knowledge or modern medicine. If not for the Romans, my son wouldn't have made it out alive. I am, however, encouraging calm, contentment and breathing it out, then figuring it out.

Some of the things that we are told when we are new parents are things we don't want to hear. Similar in vain to those 'on the nose' expressions when one turns 30/40/50 or one gets married or engaged. Some of the things we are told are not helpful. And although we know instinctively what to do, we tend to be given so much advice we start to listen to others instead to ourselves. I must stress, however, that this was my experience. Others, I'm sure, were listening to their guts and telling 'do-gooders' where to go from day one.

Some of the things people have said to me over the past four and a half years, however, have been wonderful. And if I had a very new little person, I'd like to ensure that someone wrote these things down, just in case...

* My boss, who has told me he is also prone to panic, suggested that there are only two things we need to remember in life when it all gets a bit too much.
1. Breathe in.
2. Breathe out.

* He 're-neg'ed on this statement thus;
Plan B: Panic.
Plan A: Never get to Plan B.

* We've been doing this forever, we are animals, you are an animal, you know how to do this.

* We are who we are. No book tells you how to be you, you are just you. Your baby is your baby, that is who they are.

* You can never give your baby too much love.

* Pick that baby up if you want to, we never left our babies alone 'in the old days'.

* No one else knows your baby like you do.

* When babies are about four weeks old, they give you their first smile. That smile is possibly designed biologically to get you through, because around the four week mark your very nearly ready to pack it all in.

* They don't break too easily, you'll get used to picking them up, changing their bums, feeding them, smooching their faces off, just don't be scared for too long.

* If it feels right, do it.

* Take on board what makes sense, let all of the rest fall by the wayside.

* It is scary, you'd be weird if you weren't scared. But you can do this.


I know my friends will make wonderful parents, because they are wonderful people. They are chilled and relaxed and calm and wonderful. I wish them all the happiness and excitement and tracksuit pants days to come, because glamour will be out the window for a little while, and baby smell and sleepless nights and finding time for a shower and snuggling and breast feeding and kisses and kisses and kisses until that very first smile.

And then the world has light in it that you never knew existed and that's some of the best stuff right there.



Things The Bean has said:
This morning on hearing the good news.

Me: Uncle M and Aunty L just had a baby girl!
TB: No, they are having a baby boy.
Me: I know you thought it was going to be a boy, but they had a girl, how exciting?!
TB: No, baby girls aren't any fun.
Me: Yes they are, baby girls are just as fun as baby boys.
TB: But they're not yummy. We can't eat baby girls.
Me: We don't eat babies. (*pause* I tend to say I want to 'eat' babies all the time) Well, maybe we do like to eat babies, but baby girls are just as yummy.
TB: Nah, they're not delicious.