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.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
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.
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.
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