I flew on Thursday morning to Melbourne. Nathan stayed at Corinne and Kalebs house on Wednesday night and I went and saw Sex and the City with Megan. I fell into bed about 10pm setting 3 different alarms all with increasing annoyingness in the absolute fear that I would sleep in. I had to be up a 4am - left home at 4.30 and had one moment of panic when the Gateway freeway came to a standstill. Thankfully it moved pretty quickly and I was at the airport by 5.20. I was boarding at 5.45. All was uneventful but I was stuck sitting next to an arrogant man with small man syndrome. Because if my size I jammed my bulk in next to the window and tried to take up as little space as possible. This wanker sat next to me and read the fucking paper with elbows out. I had my arms crossed and he was perpetually digging his elbows into my ribs while he took up both arm rests. I thought I would punish him by falling asleep which I did promptly and of course my famous chainsaw snore kicked right in. LOL I know I was snoring because I kept waking myself up with it. hehe. Next he gets out his laptop and starts working on it. Turns out the bastard works for Virgin. You'd think he'd get the deluxe economy seats instead of sitting with the plebs. Anyway it was a relief when we began our descent. I got off the plane and phoned my sister and she was just parking the car. I snuck out for a cigarette and then waited to see my lil man. We'd got our wires crossed so I was waiting in the wrong spot but after a quick phone call I headed downstairs to the baggage carousel and a the bottom of the escalators was my sister, my niece and my son! I got the biggest squeezy cuddle from Josh at which point I burst into tears which in turn reduced my sister to tears too.
We decided to drop off Josh's case at baggage check in and go find a coffee.
I thought the least I could do was shout my sister breakfast for all the help with Josh she has provided (not to mention lending me the money for airfares) so we grabbed a quick bite at Maccas and then it was time to go check back in for our flight home.
The flight was delayed by 15 minutes but was uneventful. Josh was good on the plane and at least I got cuddles instead of elbows. He loved looking out the window at the tiny houses and cars. He did get bored for a little while but kept flirting with the girl in the row opposite from us. I ended up giving him my pda and loaded up a game for him to play. He spent more time putting the stylus away in its little home, turning off the pda and closing the case, then he'd open the case and turn it on, get the stylus out and push a few buttons and close it again.
We landed 5 minutes late and collected his case. Got back to the car and loaded him in and he promptly fell asleep. We made good time and went straight to Nathan's school and picked him up early.
The look of joy on Nate's face to see his brother after not seeing each other for a whole month was just priceless. We came home and they were just all over the place. Nathan wanted to show Josh everything he could do (like riding his bike without training wheels that he'd just learnt to do in the past few weeks) Josh wanted to watch every dvd in the cupboard and then proceeded to pull all the toys out of the toybox and spread them over the living room floor.
It has taken about 2 days and they are back to fighting again.
I don't know whether my absolutel joy at having Josh home again has overridden my normal exasperation at the tantrums and fighting but I have been dealing with it all calmly and gently. Josh has gotten very selfish since being away. Which is only natural considering he has been the absolute centre of attention for his Nonna and Nonno. Only spending a little time with his cousins.
His assertiveness has become very prominent. Instead of his normal tantrums he is now being very assertive when I ask him to do something he doesn't want to do like eat his dinner or pick up his toys or put his clothes in the hamper he looks me in the eye and says "No, I don't want to" LOL Oh boy it has taken all of my strength to restrain myself. Last night he threw a tantrum after I told him off for not sharing. I put him in his room with a smack to the bottom. He was screaming at the top of his lungs and kicking his door from the inside. I told Nathan that if Josh came out not to look at him, to ignore him completely. I dished up dinner and Nathan and I sat at the table and started eating. Josh came out in stages and we completely ignored him until he came and sat at the table. He was quiet and calm, it was as if the previous 10 minutes hadn't even happened. We didn't talk about his behaviour and just talked of 'stuff'. Aside from getting up to get a drink he sat at the table and ate all his dinner.
They had a nice long bath after that and played for ages together. I think the bathroom walls got a good clean in the process but they were having fun. We all got into our PJ's and pulled out the sofa bed and all climbed in and watched Ritchie Rich together. They went to bed straight after and I didn't hear a peep from either of them after that.
Just hoping that I can keep my zen with the tantrums and hopefully he will realise that the screaming and fighting are futile.
One can only hope......
I am so glad he is home where he belongs.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Sunday, June 01, 2008
You're a Wonder
I pinched this from a forum I am a member of I just had to store it here to keep myself reminded of it.
My friend is expecting her first child. People keep asking what she wants. She smiles demurely, shakes her head and gives the answer mothers have given throughout the pages of time. She says it doesn't matter whether it's a boy or a girl. She just wants it to have ten fingers and ten toes.
Of course, that's what she says. That's what mothers have always said.
Mothers lie.
Truth be told, every mother wants a whole lot more. Every mother wants a perfectly healthy baby with a round head, rosebud lips, button nose, beautiful eyes, satin skin and straight feet. Every mother wants a baby so gorgeous that people will pity the Gerber baby for being flat-out ugly.
Every mother wants a baby that will roll over, sit up and take those first steps right on schedule (according to the baby development chart on page 57, column two). Every mother wants a baby that can see, hear, run, jump and fire neurons by the billions. She wants a kid that can smack the ball out of the park and do toe points that are the envy of the entire ballet class.
Call it greed if you want, but we mothers want what we want.
Some mothers get babies with something more.
Some mothers get babies with conditions they can't pronounce, a spine that didn't fuse, a missing chromosome, a palette that didn't close or a tiny crooked foot or two. Most of those mothers can remember the time, the place, the shoes they were wearing and the color of the walls in the small, suffocating room where the doctor uttered the words that took their breath away. It felt like recess in the fourth grade when you didn't see the kick ball coming and it knocked the wind clean out of you.
Some mothers leave the hospital with a healthy bundle, then, months, even years later, take him in for a routine visit, or schedule her for a well check, and crash head first into a brick wall as they bear the brunt of devastating news. It can't be possible! That doesn't run in our family. Can this really be happening in our lifetime?
I am a woman who watches the Olympics for the sheer thrill of seeing finely sculpted bodies. It's not a lust thing; it's a wondrous thing. The athletes appear as specimens without flaw - rippling muscles with nary an ounce of flab or fat, virtual powerhouses of strength with lungs and limbs working in perfect harmony. Then the athlete walks over to a tote bag, rustles through the contents and pulls out an inhaler.
As I've told my own kids, be it on the way to physical therapy after a third knee surgery, or on a trip home from an echo cardiogram, there's no such thing as a perfect body. Every body will bear something at some time or another. Maybe the affliction will be apparent to curious eyes, or maybe it will be unseen, quietly treated with trips to the doctor, medication or surgery. The health problems our children have experienced have been minimal and manageable, so I watch with keen interest and great admiration the mothers of children with serious disabilities, and wonder how they do it.
Frankly, sometimes you mothers scare me. How you lift that child in and out of a wheelchair 20 times a day. How you monitor tests, track medications, regulate diet and serve as the gatekeeper to a hundred specialists yammering in your ear.
I wonder how you endure the clichés and the platitudes, well-intentioned souls explaining how God is at work when you've occasionally questioned if God is on strike. I even wonder how you endure schmaltzy pieces like this one -- saluting you, painting you as hero and saint, when you know you're ordinary. You snap, you bark, you bite. You didn't volunteer for this, you didn't jump up and down in the motherhood line yelling, "Choose me, God. Choose me! I've got what it takes." You're a woman who doesn't have time to step back and put things in perspective, so, please, let me do it for you.
From where I sit, you're way ahead of the pack. You've developed the strength of a draft horse while holding onto the delicacy of a daffodil. You have a heart that melts like chocolate in a glove box in July, carefully counter-balanced against the stubbornness of an Ozark mule. You can be warm and tender one minute, and when circumstances require, intense and aggressive the next. You are the mother, advocate and protector of a child with a disability. You're a neighbor, a friend, a stranger I pass at the mall. You're the woman I sit next to at church, my cousin and my sister-in-law. You're a woman who wanted ten fingers and ten toes, and got something more. You're a wonder.
My friend is expecting her first child. People keep asking what she wants. She smiles demurely, shakes her head and gives the answer mothers have given throughout the pages of time. She says it doesn't matter whether it's a boy or a girl. She just wants it to have ten fingers and ten toes.
Of course, that's what she says. That's what mothers have always said.
Mothers lie.
Truth be told, every mother wants a whole lot more. Every mother wants a perfectly healthy baby with a round head, rosebud lips, button nose, beautiful eyes, satin skin and straight feet. Every mother wants a baby so gorgeous that people will pity the Gerber baby for being flat-out ugly.
Every mother wants a baby that will roll over, sit up and take those first steps right on schedule (according to the baby development chart on page 57, column two). Every mother wants a baby that can see, hear, run, jump and fire neurons by the billions. She wants a kid that can smack the ball out of the park and do toe points that are the envy of the entire ballet class.
Call it greed if you want, but we mothers want what we want.
Some mothers get babies with something more.
Some mothers get babies with conditions they can't pronounce, a spine that didn't fuse, a missing chromosome, a palette that didn't close or a tiny crooked foot or two. Most of those mothers can remember the time, the place, the shoes they were wearing and the color of the walls in the small, suffocating room where the doctor uttered the words that took their breath away. It felt like recess in the fourth grade when you didn't see the kick ball coming and it knocked the wind clean out of you.
Some mothers leave the hospital with a healthy bundle, then, months, even years later, take him in for a routine visit, or schedule her for a well check, and crash head first into a brick wall as they bear the brunt of devastating news. It can't be possible! That doesn't run in our family. Can this really be happening in our lifetime?
I am a woman who watches the Olympics for the sheer thrill of seeing finely sculpted bodies. It's not a lust thing; it's a wondrous thing. The athletes appear as specimens without flaw - rippling muscles with nary an ounce of flab or fat, virtual powerhouses of strength with lungs and limbs working in perfect harmony. Then the athlete walks over to a tote bag, rustles through the contents and pulls out an inhaler.
As I've told my own kids, be it on the way to physical therapy after a third knee surgery, or on a trip home from an echo cardiogram, there's no such thing as a perfect body. Every body will bear something at some time or another. Maybe the affliction will be apparent to curious eyes, or maybe it will be unseen, quietly treated with trips to the doctor, medication or surgery. The health problems our children have experienced have been minimal and manageable, so I watch with keen interest and great admiration the mothers of children with serious disabilities, and wonder how they do it.
Frankly, sometimes you mothers scare me. How you lift that child in and out of a wheelchair 20 times a day. How you monitor tests, track medications, regulate diet and serve as the gatekeeper to a hundred specialists yammering in your ear.
I wonder how you endure the clichés and the platitudes, well-intentioned souls explaining how God is at work when you've occasionally questioned if God is on strike. I even wonder how you endure schmaltzy pieces like this one -- saluting you, painting you as hero and saint, when you know you're ordinary. You snap, you bark, you bite. You didn't volunteer for this, you didn't jump up and down in the motherhood line yelling, "Choose me, God. Choose me! I've got what it takes." You're a woman who doesn't have time to step back and put things in perspective, so, please, let me do it for you.
From where I sit, you're way ahead of the pack. You've developed the strength of a draft horse while holding onto the delicacy of a daffodil. You have a heart that melts like chocolate in a glove box in July, carefully counter-balanced against the stubbornness of an Ozark mule. You can be warm and tender one minute, and when circumstances require, intense and aggressive the next. You are the mother, advocate and protector of a child with a disability. You're a neighbor, a friend, a stranger I pass at the mall. You're the woman I sit next to at church, my cousin and my sister-in-law. You're a woman who wanted ten fingers and ten toes, and got something more. You're a wonder.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
What was I thinking?
When I agreed to let Raz take Josh to Melbourne with him, I know it was done to ease my load but I didn't realise how hard it has been on us all. Nathan is missing his brother, I am missing my baby and Josh has been misbehaving badly.
I certainly don't want Raz to feel bad as he is doing his very best to provide for our family and moving to Melbourne is all that I really want but we both kinda went into this thinking our house would get snapped up as quickly as we bought it just over a year ago.
Initially Raz wasn't going to apply for any jobs and we just bide our time until the house was sold and then find a job down there but this job just fell into his lap and he couldn't say no.
Admittedly I am enjoying having the house to myself during the day while Nate is at school but I think the boredom factor and no playmates after school and on weekends has driven to throw some really childish tantrums that I thought he was passed. I know the separation from his dad has been hard, Raz and Nate have always been close and I really miss the joking camaraderie between them at night.
Tonight Josh has deliberately headbutted Raz very painfully and I am just wondering if this behaviour is his way of expressing himself as to the situation. He didn't even want to talk to me on the phone tonight I feel like I am losing my connection with him and it is painful.
I also know that trying to keep the house clean and presentable with Josh here is going to be a full time job. Not to mention trying to pack up a house with Josh underfoot is going to be difficult but I'd rather have him here in a steady routine. I think him seeing this whole process may help him to understand more what is happening. As far as he is concerned he is down there without his mum having a holiday.
He spent 2 days at my sisters this week and my sister had to bribe him to go back inside Nonna's house - he just didn't want to go. I know they love him to bits but they just don't 'get' him. My sister told me of the day she went to collect him for his sleepover, he was having his afternoon sleep and Nonna went in to wake him up but he was in his face shouting "Wake up, Jeshua" (that's how they pronounce it) with his very very sour halitosis I would wake up shitty too.
I have left it with Raz to keep an eye on it this week but if he doesnt' improve then we will find either Raz or my sister to fly him up and back to me asap.
I'm off to find cheap flights.....
I certainly don't want Raz to feel bad as he is doing his very best to provide for our family and moving to Melbourne is all that I really want but we both kinda went into this thinking our house would get snapped up as quickly as we bought it just over a year ago.
Initially Raz wasn't going to apply for any jobs and we just bide our time until the house was sold and then find a job down there but this job just fell into his lap and he couldn't say no.
Admittedly I am enjoying having the house to myself during the day while Nate is at school but I think the boredom factor and no playmates after school and on weekends has driven to throw some really childish tantrums that I thought he was passed. I know the separation from his dad has been hard, Raz and Nate have always been close and I really miss the joking camaraderie between them at night.
Tonight Josh has deliberately headbutted Raz very painfully and I am just wondering if this behaviour is his way of expressing himself as to the situation. He didn't even want to talk to me on the phone tonight I feel like I am losing my connection with him and it is painful.
I also know that trying to keep the house clean and presentable with Josh here is going to be a full time job. Not to mention trying to pack up a house with Josh underfoot is going to be difficult but I'd rather have him here in a steady routine. I think him seeing this whole process may help him to understand more what is happening. As far as he is concerned he is down there without his mum having a holiday.
He spent 2 days at my sisters this week and my sister had to bribe him to go back inside Nonna's house - he just didn't want to go. I know they love him to bits but they just don't 'get' him. My sister told me of the day she went to collect him for his sleepover, he was having his afternoon sleep and Nonna went in to wake him up but he was in his face shouting "Wake up, Jeshua" (that's how they pronounce it) with his very very sour halitosis I would wake up shitty too.
I have left it with Raz to keep an eye on it this week but if he doesnt' improve then we will find either Raz or my sister to fly him up and back to me asap.
I'm off to find cheap flights.....
Monday, April 28, 2008
How long has it been?
It has been so long since I posted and I will again soon when I have the inclination.
At the moment the house is on the market and we are in the process of moving back to Melbourne. I can't wait! Had some people come through today for a second look but it is between ours and the house up the street. Not hanging everything on it but it sure would be nice to have an offer on the house before we fly to melb this friday night.
I am looking forward to having the house to myself and Nathan for a few weeks, not looking forward to the prospect of packing my house up by myself though. Thank god for great friends is all I can say.
At the moment the house is on the market and we are in the process of moving back to Melbourne. I can't wait! Had some people come through today for a second look but it is between ours and the house up the street. Not hanging everything on it but it sure would be nice to have an offer on the house before we fly to melb this friday night.
I am looking forward to having the house to myself and Nathan for a few weeks, not looking forward to the prospect of packing my house up by myself though. Thank god for great friends is all I can say.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
