Wings to Fly

In my late teens, I remember hearing the words of Marjorie Hinckley when she was speaking to her husband.  She told him:

“You have always given me wings to fly, and I have loved you for it.”

Something about that stuck with me.  I didn’t know why at the time, but 20 years on I can tell you exactly why this resonated with me.  

Marjorie Hinkley was a sweet old lady who resembled what I pictured Mrs. Clause to look like.  

My favourite part of her though is that she had a lot of spunk to her.  You could see she was both gentle, but could certainly handle herself.

I am a stubborn soul.  Not in a way that people would know when you first get to know me, but those who know me well will be able to see it I’m sure.  If you tell me not to do something, I will want to do it more, like a defiant child.  I like to do things my way, and I like to get things done all by myself, even when I should probably ask for help.  I can fixate on a job and heaven forbid anything get in my way until it is done.    You would almost forget I have any children when I get in my “zone” with the way I push everything to the side until I have completed whatever I have my mind set on.  Sometimes these tasks are things I have no business doing…like my own plumbing repairs.  Google and YouTube are great, but there are still some tasks that should be done in consultation with a professional.  

I’m not all that sorry for my stubborn nature, because it’s that same nature that has made me resilient and strong when I need to be.  

Anthony knows I am stubborn and feisty, but he embraces this and leaves me to my crazy. He doesn’t tell me I “can’t” or “shouldn’t” do the things I do.  He probably sees the crazy look in my eyes and knows better than to even try.  I love him for that.  

I cannot think of any endeavour I have set upon that Anthony hasn’t supported me in.  From when we first began our lives together to our lives now over 16 years later, he makes me feel like I can do and be anything I set my heart to, and he will be in my corner cheering me on.  When I take on a new job or role, he makes it easy for me to leave the house and our boys knowing they are in good hands.  When work opportunities arose for me that I felt interested in, Anthony told me he will support whatever decision I make.  I know if I awoke tomorrow and decided to pursue another lengthy and demanding university degree, he would help me make it happen.  He did it whilst we had a baby and another on the way, and he still does it now.  He doesn’t just support me, he is behind the scenes making it possible for me to feel like I can do everything I want to do.

If I think back to right before we got married up until now, there are definitely parts of me that are still the same.  I was raised by loving parents who helped me to believe I could achieve the goals I had for myself.  They didn’t push me into what they wanted, but helped me to reach high in areas that were interesting to me. I think some pieces of us are so ingrained it’s almost impossible to get rid of them.  This is a wonderful thing.  It might be the way I laugh, or that I still refuse to eat seafood.  These traits are part of who we are, but I know in many ways I’m not the same person Anthony married.  I feel I have a better idea of who I am and what I want in life.  I am able to say “sorry, I can’t” without feeling like I need to provide a big explanation and reason.  I don’t feel the need to “do it all”, unless I really want it all.  I hold tight to the people and values that matter most to me and can happily leave the rest behind.

  I can say that adult me is genuinely content in myself and after a lot of thought, I want to give a lot of credit to Anthony.  He has really made me feel that whoever and whatever I am is enough, in fact it’s more than enough in his eyes, he tells me all the time how amazing he thinks I am.  He tells me in a way that I know he really means it and I feel it too.  I think this is what Marjorie Hinkley might have meant in her comment to her husband.  I don’t believe she was saying he gave her wings as in he gave her “permission” to do things, I believe it was that the way he loved, supported and believed in her made her feel like she could do anything.  

I think of myself as fairly confident in my own abilities.  I appreciate this as it makes it easy to not worry too much about the judgements of others.  There is someone beside me who has helped give me this confidence - Anthony.  Not to be all sappy, but I realise he too has given me wings and boy oh boy do I love him for it!

Back to School

This year is a milestone in my life.  One that I feel has crept up on me leaving me suddenly feeling very old.  This year, it is officially 20 years since I graduated high school.  That went by so fast! 

I feel very thankful to be able to say that I had a great time in high school.  My teen years had their share of drama, but not in the traumatic kind of way, more in the “geez-this-is-going-to-make-for-a-good-story-one-day” kind of drama.  In large part, I have some amazing friends to thank for this.  When I look back to photos of my Year 12 formal, I can’t help but smile.  Partly because of the somewhat dated outfits that we all felt so cool in, but mainly because of the faces in the photos smiling back at me.  

Tammy and I were pretty much set up as friends by our mums.  I think they decided we would be great friends before we ever knew it.  It turns out they weren’t wrong.  Tammy was quiet to those who didn’t know her well, but had such a fun crazy side for those lucky enough to call her their friend.  We shared a love of Leonardo DiCaprio and watched Titanic at the movies over and over.  We babysat together….a lot!  Tammy was such a loyal friend and I loved knowing that if we ever needed one another, she would be there.

Meagan was both feisty and tough, yet warm and kind.  I remember seeing how much she loved her mum truly believed they would be best friends for life - I hope that has turned out to be true.  You know the saying “good things come in small packages”?  That saying encompasses Meagan all over.  How such a big heart fit in such a small body is an anomaly.

Any class I had with Alan I knew would be fun.  There was a good chance I would get in trouble for laughing, but it was worth it.  It was almost worth crossing Alan just to hear the hilariously creative insults he would dish out.  He had such a quick mind and I still cannot look at avocado dip without thinking of our Spanish teacher and laughing. 

Emma moved to our school from Canberra with her family.  She was outgoing and confident in a way that I found both admirable and intimidating.  She was quite independent at a young age and when her family was moving back to Canberra, she moved in with us and we shared a bedroom.    I realise now that having a friend live with you could destroy a lot of friendships, but I’m grateful that wasn’t the case with Emma.  She didn’t have a mean bone in her body.  

Ebony was a friendship that came a little out of the blue in the beginning.  I was talking to Tony yesterday about Ebony.  I was telling him how I remember talking with a group of friends and I made a Seinfeld reference and she was the only other person there who got it.  That alone made me like her immediately.  Ebony is the kind of person who doesn’t need any attention on her, yet she shines.  She is one of the most even tempered people I have ever known.  She is genuine and purposeful in all she does.

Sarah and I are cousins.  We loved states apart from one of another all our lives until she moved to Adelaide at 16 and came to the same high school as me.  We quickly became partners in crime and probably have way too much dirt on one another, but any mischief we got up to was worth it.  From sneaking out at night and having to sleep in the car so we could still get to school on time in the morning, to dancing in car parks and watching and laughing as she vomited in random gardens…what we lacked in class we made up for in fun.  

I don’t get to see or talk to any of these people as much as I would like.  Life gets busy and everyone takes different paths, but 20 years on I have nothing but fond memories of my time in high school and to the people who made it so amazing, I thank you. 

Not All Bad

 Not all change is bad.

I didn’t realise how long it had been since I heard Tony call out to Carter;

“Hey Carter, do you want to play FIFA on the PlayStation with me?”

Both the boys like video games, but tend to play them separately or with their own friends.  Lately, I have heard them playing together and between trash talk they laugh and tease one another.  

Today they played “drive-thru” at Tony’s bedroom window (this had been something Carter has wanted to do for a couple of days now) and took one another’s orders for lunch and prepared the food in the kitchen and ran it back out to the window.  It was simple, but I could hear in their voices they were having fun in the middle of their online school day.

Every second day, I hear them wrestling in the lounge room.  I know they are likely jumping off the couch and tackling one another, but I choose not to watch because I will likely tell them they shouldn’t be jumping on the couch or to be careful so they don’t hurt one another.  I choose not to look because I hear them having fun and enjoying their time with one another.  I think that in all the busyness of life they forgot they are both brothers AND friends.  They have their own social groups and separate interests, jobs and activities that keeps them apart a lot, but lockdown has put a stop to 90% of those things and now we are together most the time.  

I must admit it was a bit odd at first, to all be home so much, but I feel so blessed to be able to say without any doubt that these 3 people are the people I really want to be with above all else.  I must acknowledge that unlike many others, we are very fortunate to have a safe place to live and steady work still and this alone removes a great deal of stress that others in lockdown are enduring. We also haven’t lost a loved one to the disease that is affecting so many world wide.  Compared to many, our life is relatively smooth despite the lockdown conditions.

Over 7 weeks of lockdown has slowed our pace of life.  We still have work and school, but it gets done and we get to just hang out together.  Sometimes it’s going for a walk or playing at the park, other days it’s watching a movie on the couch.  The best part is that whilst doing these activities, there is no part of me that feels guilty, like we should be getting other things done or that we are wasting time.  I have realised that in the past, my ideas of an accomplished day involved being busy a lot.  It was as if a packed schedule was some kind of badge of honour.  I rarely felt my head hit the pillow with a sense of satisfaction that I had ticked everything off my “to-do” list. There was always more to do.  

I have changed my mind set now.  I don’t want to go back to the packed schedule of before.  I know life will inevitably be busy again, when school goes back and sports return, but I am determined to keep my view that having some veg time watching a movie on the couch is not any sign of laziness, maybe it’s an indication that I am planning my days well and not over-scheduling.  I feel that in the years and decades to come, I will regret not taking those moments to recharge so my boys get the best of me.  I will regret not lying on my bed next to them just chatting and watching music clips on YouTube instead of folding laundry.  I will regret not eating ice cream out of the tub with my sweetheart while we laugh over cheesy jokes we have heard.  I will miss seeing all the parents out on the field behind our house actually PLAYING with their children and not just supervising them.  That field is packed every day with families out having fun together being active because they can now find the time much easier without all the after school activities.  These little moments are really the big moments, and I think I have spent years either not appreciating them or missing them all together.  

Lockdown is far from ideal and it certainly comes with its challenges (no amount of teaching experience equips your to work through online learning with your own child and maintain your sanity), but I have loved being able to slow down a little and just hang out with my 3 boys and know we are the only place we are supposed to be right now.

When Words Aren’t Enough

 It has been over a year since I have written.  That’s a long time for me.  I don’t set aside time for writing, it has just been something I do when the mood strikes.  It’s easy for me to write this way because the thoughts are there ready to go.  In the back of my mind, I have been aware that I haven’t written anything much for a while, but I didn’t realise it was so long.  I have thought about why, and the truth is the words just haven’t been there.  

The past year or so has been tough for the world.  I’m not used to living with so much uncertainty, and to be honest I don’t think I live with it well.  I like plans.  I like to know what I’m doing.  Not in a crazy rigid way, just that I like to mentally have an idea of what’s ahead for me.  Making plans has been difficult over the past year or so because our plans can be flipped upside down at a moments notice.  I have had to learn to adjust and just deal with what I need to and let the rest go a bit better.  My ideas of a successful day have changed because it can’t be measured in the same way, and that’s ok. 

I lost my sister to cancer at the end of last year.  It has been six months without her.  That six months feels too long to have not had her with us, but also too short an amount of time for life to go on in a relatively normal way.  I miss her every day.  I walk past pictures of her in my home and smile but feel a pang of sadness.  I have realised it’s possible to both miss someone immensely and still be happy at the same time.  My joy in life is not robbed by my grief.   I didn’t realise that was possible.  

There are parts of the past year that I would have to call “challenging”, but they have really made me think about my own life more.  We all know that life is full of ups and downs.  We tell ourselves this when we are in the middle of a “down” because it makes the “downs” more bearable knowing an “up” will come again.  A part of me has learned to embrace the “downs” a little more.  I know one day I will leave this life and when I do, I want to be able to say;

“I experienced so much.  Some of it was amazing, and some of it was so hard, but boy did I live!  That is what I came for, I came to experience it all.”

In my 37 years, I have experienced joy, exhaustion, love, friendship, sadness, frustration, worry, excitement, grief, embarrassment, surprise, and loss.  I have had days where I wake up so excited, and nights where I lose sleep because my mind is burdened.  I have felt pain beyond what I ever thought I could endure, and felt love with such completeness.  It’s cliched to say this, but even though I hate the periods of struggle and pain in my life, it is in these times that I have learned who I really am deep down.  Sometimes I learn something about myself that I don’t like, other times I’m pleasantly surprised.  It is raw, and sometimes ugly, but it’s real. 

I don’t know if I can say I am grateful for the past year and it’s challenges, but I know that I am grateful I have been able to experience another part of life and when my time is over I know I will be so thankful I got to truly experience what it means to really LIVE.

Every up has a down, and every down has an up.

Life as of late has felt surreal.  I feel as though I live in two worlds.  There is the world where I still do laundry, still make meals for my family, still pay the same bills by the same due date, and where I go to work at the same desk like nothing has changed. 

But my life is also very different.  I bring one son to work with me to oversee his school work while I work (I am so thankful to have a boss willing to let me give this a go).  My other son does his school work online at home while Anthony teaches online.  We don’t go anywhere we don’t absolutely need to go.  There is no school run, no trips out to Yoghurtland, no after school sport, and no going to church.

The world is going through a collective change.  It’s certainly challenging.  But the slower, quieter pace of life has allowed my mind to slow down a little too.

I was able to sit with Carter as he wrote a story last night, in red pencil of course - red is his favourite.  The story involved two boys having a crush on the same girl.  A mix of both love and rivalry - Carter to a ‘t’.  Carter has a heart bigger than his body.  He feels emotions big, both the positive and the challenging.  He apologises quickly and forgives in a second.  He is very imaginative and can play with his marbles for a good hour or so, but he doesn’t play marbles in the traditional sense, he lines them up as rugby or soccer teams, they sing the national anthem, and then kick off and play a game, complete with a white marble as the referee.  I have really enjoyed watching him and learning more of how his mind works. 

Tony and I were able to laugh and giggle at silly, insignificant things late into the night when he would normally be asleep.  We sit next to each other on the couch teasing one another, he is quick witted and “gets” my humour.  I see my humour mirrored back at me in him.  He is quiet, but a friend to anyone who seeks his company.  Tony is a deep thinker, is hard on himself, yet capable in ways he can’t see in himself.  He is snappy when stressed, but feels guilty when he recognises his behaviour and hovers around trying to make it up to us.  I love that we have a bit more time in the evening to watch movies that I loved and that he is old enough to appreciate he understand.  

Anthony has still been very busy with work, but it’s nice having him home more.  Just having his presence in our home makes me happy.  Today as I sat with Anthony watching a movie, his arm around me, I realised that every single day for over 15 years, he has told me I am beautiful.  He has made me feel loved every single day.  Even days where we have been cranky with one another, he still makes me feel loved.  I don’t quite know how he does it, but I feel it.  He is my safe place and my happy place all in one.  

I hope when all this is over, I will appreciate the freedoms in life that I have taken for granted but have been taken from us for a season.  However, more than that, I hope I don’t get so caught up in life being busy again that I miss the little things that are standing out to me more now that life is quieter.  I guess that’s up to me though. 

Tickets

I had pretty good teenage years overall.  Even now when I think about it, my memories are of having a lot of fun with my friends, working hard, being tired a lot, but overall pretty good.  

But the more I think about it, I start to remember other stuff.  The best way I can describe it is that I think I had a hard time accepting myself.  I didn’t feel beautiful.  I didn’t feel popular.  I didn’t feel very special.  The gift of hind sight provides me with the insight that a lot of those feeling weren’t coming from people around me...it was coming from me.  

I had a lot of great friends.  My family are still some of my closest friends. I was never bullied.  I got along well with guys as well as girls.  I was told a lot of kind and loving things from the people that surrounded me.  I also believed I had a Heavenly Father who loved me too.  

It took me many years to learn that no matter how many nice things others tell you, how kind they treat you, or how many friends/boyfriends you have...how you feel about yourself really does have to come from inside yourself.  

I know that being treated nastily by others absolutely destroys confidence and causes damage and suffering that can last decades.  We have a responsibility to treat others with gentleness, as one careless comment could be all it takes to confirm the insecurities an individual perceives in themselves.  

 But it is now at the ripe old age of 35 I am going to do something I don’t feel particularly comfortable doing.  It’s time to change how I speak about myself.   I am going to focus on my good.  I have spent 35 years comfortably highlighting my negative traits, sometimes in seriousness and sometimes with humour.  It’s easy for me to do.  But it’s challenging to publicly voice the qualities that I have worked hard to develop.  It feels cocky even acknowledging them.  But my journey so far has shaped and moulded me and I appreciate all my life has given me. 

So here goes.....

At 35 years old, I have a body that is strong.  I used to view it as weak and frail, but I now know my body is tough.  It endures pain 24/7 and it manages to keep going.  It works so hard and I haven’t always appreciated that and given credit where it is due.  I don’t need it to be perfectly toned and flab-free to appreciate the body I have been given.  

I am reliable.  I try really hard to make sure if I say I will do something or be somewhere, I will follow through.  For my word to mean something really matters to me.  Sometimes life gets in the way and makes it challenging to be reliable, but I will always call if something unexpected pops up and I can’t follow through with my commitment. 

I am resourceful.  I am capable of solving problems, sorting out jobs that need doing, and getting things done.  In fact, even though problems can be challenging and stressful, I find a really sense of satisfaction in finding a solution to a problem.

I feel like I can read people fairly well.  Not what they say or what they do, but just being around someone I feel like I can gage what kind of person they are.  This has been a gift in my life that has really been a huge blessing.  

I’m an introvert, but I still enjoy being around people.  I don’t do well with large groups and need some quiet, alone time after socialising to recharge, so I know I am an introvert, but I’m comfortable with this.  I much prefer chatting with people I’m small groups and genuinely enjoy the company of others. 

I think I’m rather easily pleased. Home really is my happy place and I don’t need a lot to make me happy, just some good food and a comfy couch and my boys.   It brings me a lot of joy that I am content with my lot in life. 

There you have it.

I don’t mention these qualities to toot my own horn, rather I want to acknowledge them because when I see the big picture it makes me appreciate who I am and to view myself in a kinder, more positive light.  It provides a healthier self image - and I think that is something the world is screaming for.  Not the kind of self image people readily post on social media, I’m referring to GENUINE feelings of self worth that run deep and won’t be shaken by the careless words of others.  

I know who I am now, and that’s pretty cool. 

The joy and oh so much shame

I have suspected this for a little while now, but I believe my suspicions were confirmed as of late.  Sometimes I find myself doing things as a parent that SEEM like a perfectly normal, sensible, logical thing to do.....but then a little time passed and I find myself wondering what the hell I was thinking!  How in the world did my judgement go so wrong?? 

We are coming to the end of a parenting milestone.  We aren’t quite there yet...but it’s looming on the horizon and almost feels as though it’s in reach.  We are on the final lap of a particular parenting marathon and I am thrilled! 

As of this moment, we have only one more Book Week Parade to surviv...I mean enjoy (cough cough).  

Carter is now in Year 5 and with Book Week over for the year, there is only next year to go and then we feel the sweet relief of high school.  The same high school that hasn’t asked Tony to dress up in almost 2 years now.  Forget the risks of an environment involving drinking, swearing, drugs - I’m just excited I don’t have to pretend to be creative anymore.  

No, in all honesty, I am very aware my creative abilities are limited and even though my boys have enjoyed dressing up, I just don’t have the goods.  That doesn’t mean I haven’t tried every single year though. 

Knowing we had only this year and next year for Carter, I gave him free reign with his costume choice.  His love of WW2 history has brought with it a love of books about the Holocaust.  Carter is very empathetic and really struggles to understand how human beings could do such horrific things to their fellow human beings, but he loves reading about the events to try and make better sense of it all.  

Tony recently studied “Hana’s Suitcase” at school and Carter loved seeing all the projects on display.  It was at this moment I suggested we read “The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas” as I remembered Tony enjoying it a few years earlier.  

We spent a couple of weeks reading it together and he was captivated.  He asked hundreds of questions, but the story being told from the perspective of a child helped him to make sense of it all.  Carter finds reading hard so if he is interested in a book, we are thrilled.

As Book Week came close, Carter asked if he could dress up as a character from “The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas”.  Seeing as he had loved the story so much, I went with it and set about trying to locate a pair of white and blue striped pyjamas.  This is surprisingly hard!  If Carter was a 50 year old man I would have found this simple,  but they don’t sell plain blue and white pyjamas for children - everything had either cartoon characters, bright patterns, or writing all over them.  

After multiple days of searching I managed to find a top that would be perfect (in the women’s section - shhh, don’t tell Carter) of Kmart.  They were a size 6-8 in women’s which fit him well.  The next obstacle was trying to find matching pants.  

As I walked through the shopping centre, I mentally ticked off all the major stores that I thought would supply pyjamas and each one I left empty handed.  On a whim, I went into Valley Girl and spotted some linen pants with a blue and white stripe.  Yes, they had a ruffley waists band, and yes, the buttons were a dead give away they were women’s pants...but I could definitely work with them.  

So, pyjamas sorted we set to work trying to match the cover of the book.  Carter was happy with the result and as the Book Week parade rolled around we were ready.  

We pulled up to the school in the morning, and as I saw other children arriving in their costumes, I had a sudden “Uh Oh” moment.  The theme for Book Week this year was “Reading is my Super Power” and from the numerous Spider-Man, Captain America, and Thor costumes, I realised many families had taken this literally.  There was also plenty of Harry Potter appearances and some Mary Poppins costumes, but it made me freeze for a moment when it hit me that perhaps Carter’s costume was a bit of a grey-area type costume.  

How had it not even occurred to me until this moment that a concentration camp prisoner costume may not have been the most appropriate for a primary school parade!!! 

I knew it was too late to do anything about it and I tried to hide my freak out from Carter as he was so excited to be dressed up as a character from a book he loved so much, but I knew I was going to be “that” parent today.  The one who sent her child to school dressed in a very questionable costume.  But, seeing the look on Carter’s face as he got to show off his outfit made all the embarrassment worth it.

Just one more year to go!