Family...-

What would we do with them? What would we do without them? I had a few chats with friends over the past couple of days about their dysfunctional families and it was interesting to feel that as a whole, we're not alone.

Some family members go to selfless lengths to ensure that other family members don't need to deal with certain issues. One friend lost her father in recent months, and since he's been gone, she now realises how much her father covered the mental illness of her mother for the sake of ensuring that his children didn't have to deal with it on a regular basis. Now he is gone, her mother is unbearable, uncontrollable and my friend doesn't want anything to do with her because she is rehashing old hurts. The verbal abuse she creates is getting painfully worse and she can't stand being in the same room as her. She has ruled out the possibility of counselling to sort out their differences, but her mother is beyond help, she doesn't see the point. She is so thankful for her father for protecting her from what could have been a tumultuous life, but she still wakes up from nightmares of her mother doing things to her.

Another friend is the middle child of five, and is very protective of her mother. She knows her mother was the strong one in her parent's marriage - the decision maker, the worker, the accountant, the parent, while her father worked, but didn't want to know about the children or finances, and gambled plenty on the side. Her mother opened a restaurant to keep the family fed, as if she didn't, she wouldn't have known how to keep their family afloat. Every child in the family worked in that restaurant from their mid teens to almost their mid thirties. Her father died just before they sold the restaurant, but they now have a strong bond of friendship and support between her siblings and her mother, it is truly amazing to see. (but they still have a few hardships to deal with).

But I notice more than anything, that at this time of year we tend to tense up about family issues and dealing with past demons. Christmas is not a festive time for most. It's a time that harmony can't co-exist in the extended family rituals because new people get introduced within the family, events have happened over the year (or years) so some aren't talking to others, judgement statements can be made, young cousins don't get along together causing other upheavals within the family and most just don't want to be there, but do so for the sake of their children.

In saying that, do we remind ourselves that we should be thankful that we actually have a family that's willing to get together though good times and bad, when some have lost their family members to car accidents over the year or illness, and then others were orphaned as their parents have drug, alcohol or domestic violence issues, their parents could be in jail, they are in poverty so they don't even celebrate Christmas, or simply they have no one in their lives who makes a difference. Maybe, we should all take a step back and be thankful that our family is there, even if it is in the smallest way...

So in saying all of that, I guess the best description of family that was redefined to me in the last few days is, the people who are the most important people in your family are you and your kids. The grandparents, the aunts, the uncles, the cousins...no one else matters except the well being of you and your children, as the other family members do or have with their children. You do what's right for you and your kids first, even if it means boycotting Christmas or family occasions. You don't go to family occasions to get ambushed, you go assuming that you will have a good time, animosity maybe resolved and your kids will be spoiled with love and gifts. But, if you ever fear it will not happen, don't go, don't put yourself and your children through the suffering, and if anyone has a problem with that, that's their problem not yours.

Family really can be a beautiful thing... if only there was reciprocated love, support and acceptance, as family should really be.

Why is it so hard to leave the past?

The past can be a fountain of fabulous memories for some, and a pit full of sadness for others. Most of us have an unbalanced scale of both. Those who brace life with two hands and enjoy every moment generally are those with the fabulous memories and are eager to create more. Those who are full of sadness can't seem to let go and find themselves dragging themselves deeper and deeper into a hole of depression and emotional uncertainty.

So how do we get ourselves out of the place that drives us mental? How do we take that first step towards happiness? Is it us holding ourselves back, or others doing it for us? It really does depend on the situation. But I guess the first thing to do, for all parties, is to accept that you have the right to change yourself, but not the right to change others. If you want to free yourself of the animosity and hurt caused by others, or that you have caused on others, then you have to let go of the guilt that you have, or accept that those people who have hurt you will not change. You have the choice to keep those people in your life or not. But the most important thing, is to stop the thought of those people eating you up inside and harming all your other relationships.

I know it's easier said than done. I realised it within myself when I was on that road to recovery after I left my husband and was released from his stranglehold. I had 12 fabulous months of finding myself, creating new opportunities and seeing outside my personal reality that had been stifled for so many years. It was the same for my boys - they were opening up, having smiles on their faces and learning to enjoy life, because they had the mum they should have always had happy again. But then, it all came back to haunt us when we had physical and financial demands put on us through their father, and my past was back again.

But I have to believe that my happiness will come back and all my successes will be had through hard work, determination and a belief in myself. But for that to happen, I have to reflect that to the world. Show the world that I am above all those who pull me down. Show the world that I have the power to make a stance. Forget about the people who make you miserable and find the people who make you happy and are happy for you.

Hurt only continues if situations keep repeating themselves. There's a saying that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting to get a different result. If you can free yourself from that cycle, you will live a freer more happier life. Break away from it all, believe that you have the power to do so, and just do it. Look forward and don't ever turn back.

Being Thankful in the Thanksgiving season

Life can spin in many directions. Somedays we feel that the world is against us, and other days we feel that the world is our oyster, but today for our American friends, it's a time they remember to be thankful. Really, shouldn't we have a day like this in every country? So what's there to be thankful for?

For me, I'm thankful that I have my two boys. They are the most loving, thoughtful boys you could ever meet, who at times, love to be boys and fight and annoy each other. But usually, they are kind and considerate to each other, helpful and respectful to me and easy to convince to grab a cuddle or a massage off them. Every night at dinner time, we have a thing between us we call 'Happy Sad Day', where we go around the table and tell each other what made us happy today, what made us sad today and what we are thankful for today. The boys always say that they are thankful for having a mum that loves them and food on the table. Sometimes they add a few new ones, but that's what they are mostly thankful for each day.

I am thankful for having a good business that looks after my boys and I financially. I am thankful for my friends who listen to my sad stories when times are tough, but also pep me up and shine when times are good. I am thankful that my parents saw that I needed to branch out of our suburb and start a new school when I was 14 which was the beginning of my travelling and writing adventures. I am thankful for my inner strength and courage. I am thankful for my Yoga instructor/masseuse. I am thankful for having the power to change whatever I want changed within myself. I am thankful for being able to see a positive future ahead for me and my boys. I am thankful that I have a creative talent. I am thankful that I tan nicely :) I am thankful for the beauty that surrounds me, but also thankful that I can identify that beauty surrounds me wherever I go.

At the same time, I know I can be better. I know I can be a better mum. I know I can be a better writer. I know I can be a better family member. I know I can be a better friend. I know I can be a better house cleaner. I know I can eat better. I know I could exercise more. I know I can learn to forgive. I know I can choose to let go. I know I can learn more. I know I can observe more. I know I can let people be themselves. I know I can let go of people who don't fit into my life. I know I can embrace people more who complement my life. I know that I shouldn't judge other's lives. I know I can open my heart more. I know I should trust more. I know I should smile more. I know I should laugh more. I know I can be better. I know it's time to make that change.

So if part of being thankful is being better within yourself, then maybe it's time to recognise that life is too short to let others hold you back and make a stance for yourself and your children. Make it happen - because no one else can do it except you, and be thankful that you can :)

Do you ever imagine living in another lifetime?

I've just come home from seeing 'Midnight In Paris' - a Woody Allen movie (without him actually being in it!) about an aspiring writer who is mad about writers from the 1920s - Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, T.S. Elliot, etc, and after midnight in Paris, he finds himself teleported to a time when these people existed together. He was surrounded by artists including Picasso, Matisse and Dali and musicians such as Cole Porter and he was absolutely in awe about being in their company. Everyday, he came back to the reality of his own life, one where he had a fiancee who squashed his dreams while she ogled over an academic friend and his accomplishments, rather than praise the talent he possessed.

So, is there ever a time that you'd love to surround yourself in, a time when life was simpler, a time when we weren't exposed to media or a time where our gender based roles were accepted and not confused?

For me, I am inspired by my predecessors in my field - I am in awe of women like Beatrix Potter who not only believed in her talent and how she wanted her books published, but was happy to be involved with every process of the publishing of her books (something that was never done 100 years ago by the privileged) to then have enough wealth to buy farm after farm after farm in the Lakes District of Northern England to stop development of the beautiful land and then donated the land in her Will to the National Trust, of which most of the land she purchased is now the Lakes District National Park. I am in awe of Katharine Hepburn for her strong willed ways in the movie industry and her private love affair with Spencer Tracy. But I don't think that I could live in their lifetime. I can certainly learn from them, be inspired by them and look at their models in life and expand on them to build a better future. It would be amazing to meet them to pick their brains, be connected with their contacts and take the same trails as they did, but I want to build my own lasting legacy that someone, hopefully, thirty or forty years from now will be inspired by me.

We all have choices - we can continue to pay the extraordinary bills that we pay, live on a shoe string and wish that life wasn't expensive... or we can choose to live a simpler life, concentrate on making ourselves better and start making smarter decisions. It all depends on where your priorities lie and how badly you want it. If you want materialism and to be seen, spend your money on luxuries and non-necessities. If you want to 'be someone' of notoriety in your field, put your energy into making the dream real, and don't care a hoot what anyone thinks. It's your life, do what makes you feel real...

If the world was going to end, what would be the one thing you'd take with you?

It's a funny question, as if the world were to end, there's no point in taking anything because we'd all die... but hypothetically, if the world ended as we know it, and we were all air lifted onto another planet to start a new life, what would you take?

The question was posed at a friend's Jewish passover celebration a couple of years back. A passover that included his conservative in-laws as well as his own more liberal family. Everyone went around the table, saying the sentimental things - taking the kids, taking the photo albums, an inherited piece of jewellery, even the practical of a case of water. My friend's 65 year old mother left the room for a bit and came back planting her vibrator in the middle of the table saying 'That is what I can't live without!' to absolute shock to his prudish in-laws.  My friends family were in hysterics, his wife's family left the building.

And it begs to ask the question? How many single mothers out there would prefer to live with their automated phallic than be bothered going through the dating scene and feeling loved again?

The problem is, when you've been in a relationship for so long that ends abruptly, you lose all trust in the other sex. You want to have your independence because you see all the similar traits in all men that you saw in your ex, and you really can't be bothered. You realise that this is the time to renew 'you' not to immediately jump on the next cock that walks through your door. Many women love that they have their own space to explore their own sexuality on their own, so when prospects come our way, unless the prospect is completely devoted to turning us around and believing that not all men are the same, there is little chance of us accepting a real man into our lives again, so our plastic toys have to do...

But as a single mum, we are dedicated to our kids and don't want different strays coming into our lives to confuse our kids that 'this one is their new Daddy.' Or maybe it's the next one... it's not fair on them. So our choices become more difficult and it's hard to let anyone into the family unit that you have created and want to protect. So again, we go back to the reliable vibrator as our saviour.

So maybe that hard long battery operating device is the one thing that we would take to another planet when life on this one fades away. At least we can still make ourselves happy while everything else is uncertain!

It's Your Birthday... what do you do to feel the love?

All single mothers tend to dread special occasions because there is no adult partner around to spoil them. You tend to feel unappreciated, unwanted and the only way to make you feel good about yourself is if you create opportunities for yourself, but it still doesn't cut the mustard because everyone else is too busy in their lives to take a step back and for a moment, think how you feel doing it all on your own.

So this weekend was my birthday weekend, so what did I do to make me feel special? I had my girlie afternoon with my girlfriends on Saturday which you all know about. Last weekend, I gave my boys $50 and told them to go shopping for me in Myer. I told them that they know what I like, and not to buy anything Christmasy and just have fun. So they went to the 3rd floor of Myer, while I hung around the 2nd floor looking at handbags and wallets as my spoil to myself for my birthday. About 20 minutes later, they came back, laden with a black & white Myer bag and smiles on their faces. It was nice to see that they were happy with their purchases.

Yesterday morning (my actual birthday), my oldest sone came in with breakfast in bed for me way too early in the morning (I don't think it had hit 7am yet). I told him not to wake his brother, as I could see he was eager to give me their present, and literally within 10 minutes I had them both with me. They gave me a chocolate hamper filled with all sorts of food goodies (great while I'm on my diet! But it was nice that they were thinking consumables rather than dust collectors) and a 'fart' orientated musical card that just happened to be a Christmas card with a pug dog on the front dressed in a Santa hat saying that it ate my present, and now it's farting Jingle Bells. The boys were in hysterics about how funny it was... and I was glad that they were happy.

Throughout the day, even starting at 11.51pm the night before, the Facebook messages, text messages and phone calls came through. Some were surprises, even a double 'Happy Birthday' from a few people (surprisingly they were all men who did the double ups!) and definitely some notable absences.

In the afternoon, I took my boys to an indoor amusement park so we could do laser tag, dodgem cars and mini golf (plus a racing battle of Daytona) before we headed out to enjoy a Japanese dinner at a Teppanyaki bar.

We sat around the barbecue grill and our Teppanyaki chef Tom could see that my eight year old was the one to pick on. He first showed us how to stack raw eggs on top of each other to make an 'Ego tower' (instead of a Lego tower), then asked my him to see if he could do the same. He did well, managing to get two eggs stacked on top of each other, while the third just didn't want to sit right. Throughout the cooking extravaganza, he made a huge omelette and tossed pieces of egg into each of our mouths, made us catch a bowl of rice with another rice bowl (or six!), he showed us his cooking acrobatic skills with his utensils and generally it was a really nice night of entertainment and amazing food.

Dessert came, and the restaurant was nice enough to give me a ball of Tempura ice-cream with a sparkler on it, and sang Happy Birthday to me. The geisha style waitress came up to me and said that they had a tradition, where the birthday girl gets dressed up in a kimono to cut the ice-cream and they take a photo. So I got dressed up, she handed me a small samurai sword to cut my ball of ice-cream and she took a picture of the three of us. A few minutes later, she returned with a lovely framed picture of the boys and I to celebrate my birthday. It was unexpected, and so sweet of them to make me, a complete stranger, feel special on her birthday.

Thank You to all my friends and family who have sent their birthday wishes. You are all very kind and special to me. Who knows what my 39th year will bring me (as I've been reminded that I'm only 12 months away from my 40th year)... All I know is that I want to devote more time to my boys, dedicate some more time to my writing ambitions and hopefully sign a publishing contract to start my new life with some direction.

The return of the old school mates

Isn't it funny that when you see your old school friends, you just lift off when you left off all those years ago? Admittedly, I've kept in semi-regular contact with a bunch of girlfriends since leaving school twenty years ago, so the conversations aren't too prehistoric, and today, eight of us got dressed up in dresses and heels went out to have a girlie afternoon tea at Madame Brussels in the city.

Madame Brussels is an English cottage style indoor/outdoor garden of Fifties style outdoor furniture and faux grass on the 3rd floor. It has Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holliday playing in the background and different flavoured punches to try. There's a set menu of gastronomic delights including sandwiches (ham & pickle, chicken & mayo, cucumber and egg sandwiches), a frittata, sausage rolls, scones with jam & cream, cupcakes and to finish off a chocolate fondue with strawberries and marshmallows. And it's not one of those places that has a stash of plates on top of each other to hurry you up so they can sit another group of people - we were there for over 3 hours when the chocolate fondue came out. As well as the Pimms based punch, we drank a sparkling rose (or pink champagne as they would say in the Fifties), which complemented the afternoon soiree perfectly.

The conversation revolved around legal custodies as a few of us are going through the pains of divorce, school playgrounds, work and memories of a time gone by. As we drank our pink champagne in the retro champagne glasses, one of my old friends, who works in the wine industry, decided to tell us a piece of trivia. 'Did you know that these champagne glasses were sized to fit one of Marie Antoinette's tits in it?' We all laughed and looked mysteriously at the small circular shaped glasses. She must have been a child when they sized them up. We googled her to find out how old she was when she died (37 - the current age of most sitting around the glass patio table), but decided that she was obviously way too flat chested to be a real woman (maybe that's why she was beheaded!). Of course, the conversation revolved around boob sizes after that, as girls do.

After a few too many pink champagnes, we couldn't work out who's glasses were who's anymore, so it was decided any would do. One of the girls said 'I'm sure we've all shared germs swapping boyfriends all those years ago.' So we tried to work it out.. Two around the table had the same boyfriend a few years a part from each other. Me and another of the girls had brothers at the same time, but with those around the table, there wasn't as much boyfriend swapping as we first thought. If there were a few more from our group there, it possibly would be true. But we did goes through different phases of being with boys from one school, then from another school, and then another. So the boy groups kept changing, and we did go out with mates of mates, but I don't think there was much swapping.

Amidst the talking and drinking, we took photos and posted them on Facebook, while the school mates who couldn't make it admired our little shindig from afar. For some of us, the afternoon got cut short when the evening arrived, while the others changed venues and kept the night going. It was good to catch up, something the single mums much appreciate as times to get out are rare (and there was one single mum who would have loved to have been there but couldn't get a babysitter)... looking forward to the next one sans children, just to be a girl again... :)

Putting Yourself Out There...

As a single mum, we struggle between the balance of working to provide for our family and spending time with our children. Most of us have to work from when our babes are a few weeks or months old, but some have the luxury of having a partner for those first few years and there isn't the need to work to pay the bills, just care for and enjoy the innocence of our beautiful children. But when they go off to school, and you don't have a partner to provide your every day costs for you anymore, you need to get yourself back in the work force. So what do you do?

Put yourself out there! Get your resume in order, show your future employers that you are different, have unique skills and are the best person for every job. Don't be afraid that you haven't been in the workforce for a few years. Every job needs to be 'trained' in one way or another, so you will soon get the hang of what's needed once you get in there.

Put down all the skills that make you a great mum - highly organised, being part of the kindergarten committee, friendly personality (as I'm sure you've made a whole new group of friends since you became a mum), able to stick to routines and deadlines, skilled at social media (as I'm sure when your child's taking a nap you've been Facebooking it or Twittering it!), easily able to adapt to changing situations, and I'm sure there is more that you can show a potential employer.

How about your covering letter? How are you going to stand out from the crowd? Well it all depends on what type of job you're going for... if' it's an office job, you may want to make it conservative but fresh, however if it's a reception job, make your letter bubbly and friendly to reflect your personality. Same goes for a retail job - show your personality in your covering letter, show your smile and vivaciousness in your words, the very vivaciousness that will make people want to talk with you in their store.

Here's a useful list of what makes a good resume: http://www.dailywritingtips.com/resume-writing-tips/ It covers everything from individualising your resume for different companies, formatting your resume, using power words and listing achievements.

I guess for most of us, the worrying concern is the huge gap in the years between jobs that you hid away changing nappies all day. But if you can market yourself properly, re-interating what skills you can bring to the employer rather than your experience, you will shine and be noticed. Go on, believe in yourself and make it happen.

When numbers look fat...

... and not in a good way! I have decided to not let the stress of my ex-husband get to me in the form of chocolate, milkshakes and high-fat but super delicious gastronomic delights and go back to my full-proof 'home delivered' diet to show the world that I am 'free' from all the stress and ready to move on.

As, like all of us girls who climb on the diet wagon, I jumped on the scales as part of my morning ritual this morning (first I must empty bladder and squeeze out any poop that may interfere with a 'good' reading of the scales, then strip off to my bare naked skin to get the most consistent reading), I saw the scales go from a _1.5kg (I am not telling you want the first number is!) to a _0.8kg. At first, I saw the fat numbers of the zero and eight and felt disappointed, but then realised that I had actually lost 0.7kgs. But what's up with that initial reaction?

Do a zero or eight define the voluptuous curves of our psychosis and re-interate to our heads that we are fat? Because they definitely aren't as skinny as a '1!' Can you imagine the '1' telling the '0' that it's better than him because he is skinnier making the '0' lose all self confidence because he's round with no waist, when in fact, he is the better figure to have in the weight loss fight... I'm sure the '0' just wants to snap the stick figure '1' in half and throw it over it's shoulder to show that the '1' is beaten... And with his robust figure, he could easily do it.

So, as my weight goes down from _0, to _9, _8, _7, etc and the numbers slowly lose their roundness back to _1 again, I'm looking forward to the '0' kicking ass again and telling the '1' where to go!

How much is too much?

I watched an episode of 'Wife Swap' last night... something that I wouldn't dare to admit on a normal day. However it was a fairly interesting episode where there was one family that believed that good looks and confidence equalled money and power, while the other family had told their children that if being average is your best, then average is who you are.

The 'good looking family' (and really, they weren't that good looking) had it all... the mother was the head of a modelling agency and was essentially the bread winner. The two daughters (aged 10 and 7) wore designer clothes and accessories, one was heading a girl band, they took piano lessons, dance lessons, gymnastics, singing lessons, had a deportment tutor, did everything they could to be stars. They had 2 housekeepers and their father was mad on sports - wake boarding, hockey, basketball and sometimes went to work as a property developer for his wife's father. He took no responsibility for the children, often getting the girls to school late. The girls would eat dinner at around 9.30-10pm at night after all their activities, going to bed around midnight because they had so much going on.

The other family were red necks from Wisconsin. There were 6 children (but I think only five living at home). They loved their family and did everything together. There were five sons and a daughter and the level of testosterone was overwhelming. They went hunting, and were constantly roughing each other up. The boys (in their late teens to early 20s) were used to their mother doing all the housework, while they sat on their bottoms watching TV. The father loved spending time with his children and family. There was a lot of love in this home because they did spend quality time together.

I guess these two families were extremes of each other - one overloaded their young children for future hopes that they will be stars, where the other family were complacent, but happy to enjoy their family time. So where is the balance?

For me, it's not how much they do, it's the quality of what they do. For me, who has boys, but I also think it's important for girls, I believe team sports are a must. It gives them opportunities to learn important life skills in trust, camaraderie, being competitive, leadership, winning, losing and working as a team. They quickly learn the fact that there is no 'I' in team. My sons have played hockey, soccer, basketball and surf life saving over the years and they always seem happiest when they can share a victory with their mates; but when they have done things like swimming or tennis, it's almost a chore to get them there. I see some families at school who seem to have something on every day for this children, sometimes stacking an afternoon with 2-3 activities after school. There's no time for homework, no time for being a kid and no time for family time.

Then there is the argument that if you don't get your children involved in activities, they get bored easily and end up causing mischief - getting on the wrong side of the law, hanging out with the wrong kids, being easily led by their peers, and possibly getting involved with drugs and alcohol too early in life. They do this, because their parents don't take an interest in them and they want some attention, so instead of saying 'Hey Mum, I'd really like to join the local baseball club' (which they probably have at some point, but Mum isn't listening), they do law-defying things to get their parents attention.

So there must be a balance - a chance for a child to be a kid, to be part of a team, do something that makes them stand out, to feel wanted, be dedicated to their homework and schooling and enjoy family time. It's hard to get the right mix, and I can say I'm no expert at it, but we have to think what's best for our kids - not what's best for us.

One Day...

We all dream that 'one day' all our dreams will come true, that our childhood fantasies come alive and that will be our place of bliss. But how often do we actually live what we set out to do and find that it's not all that it's cracked up to be?

But then, if we didn't have the perceived concept of 'one day,' then we wouldn't have a life worth living. We wouldn't have any goals, we wouldn't have anything to look forward to, we wouldn't strive for 'better.' And I guess that's what depression can do to you... you lose the concept that 'one day' life will be better.

So, in saying that, we must continue to dream. Maybe not be so rigid in what we want to happen, but definitely have an outline of where we want to go, what we foresee will bring us happiness. As children, we tend to romanticise the concept of falling in love with our prince, having children and a beautiful home to raise them in. In our minds, there's a picture of joyous times you share as a family, rolling in the autumn leaves on the front lawn laughing and enjoying each other's company, baking a cake and flour all over the kitchen and your kids, or even a picnic in the country throwing a frisbee around as you enjoy the Spring sunshine and a slight breeze... but never the reality of paying the bills, working overtime, domestic housework, behavioural issues or any health complaints.

Once we live the life, do our future dreams have a little more sense of reality to them? In some ways yes, in others no. We still dream of winning the lottery to live the lavish life, go on overseas holidays or just get a renovation done. But we do tend to put a more logical train of thought and plan of action into making our dreams come true. We dream of ways that maintain the juggling act of work, school life for our kids, home life and quality family time, but understand that we have to work hard to play hard.

How is it, that some people have the knack to create opportunities for themselves, and others play the same routine game of the endless 'Groundhog Day' that life has given them, and they can't seem to break the monotony? How can you make that small change that will give you a new sense of purpose?

I guess the only thing I can suggest is actual 'do' something. Make a phone call, observe more, read more, if you see something that you might like - act on it. This is how 'one day' becomes today, tomorrow and your future. Have the courage to take a step forward or a leap of faith and do something different. As once you do take that first step, the second and third steps become so much easier and you'll wonder why you didn't do anything for so many years.

You are responsible for your own life, if you can't make your dreams come alive, no one can. You can't blame anyone for holding you back and you can't keep festering in your own wallows if you can't help yourself. Make it happen, believe in yourself, and 'one day,' sooner than later, your world will be a different place and you will find yourself again.

Yoga - Bringing the balance back from the madness

Ahh... it's amazing how nice it is to just stop. Stop and hear your heartbeat, stop and feel your breath, stop and clear your mind. It's the power of yoga... to become inwardly focused and concentrate on your divine spirit.

I started yoga about 6 weeks ago just to get some balance in my life. I didn't realise how instantly it would affect me... learning to take in deeper breaths to relief the anxiety building up, finding myself stretching in ways to relieve the tension... I'm really finding myself stopping and taking time out for myself.

Tonight, I started a new 7-week course with a new instructor. A South American male instructor. A very well toned, overly flexible male instructor. A lycra clad male instructor who liked to make us sweat. Our class is in this very sweet house with all the sounds of wind-chimes and birds, the scents of ylang ylang and lavender and all the old world charm that makes it a perfect place to revive your spirit.

There are only three of us in the class - one lady I hadn't seen before who looked like yoga had been part of her life for the past 20 years - she was so controlled, toned and annoyingly petite. Then there was the tiny motherly grandmother lady who looks like she loves her pasta, and gives everything a go, but struggles with some of the poses. And then there's me... a little bit flexible, not-so-toned, a little bit wobbly but able to do some of the advanced poses  (then breaks the concentration sometimes when my 'tree' pose becomes uprooted and I crash into the wall).

Our lycra clad South American worked us harder than our previous instructor. Sweat was pouring off us in the mugginess of a stormy evening. I had to ask to put the ceiling fan on half way through our one and a half hour class as I was getting so sweaty, that my feet were slipping and the poses just weren't happening. The others were happy I asked, as it wasn't just my un-toned body that was feeling it.

Thankfully, after a warrior pose No 3, an inverted table and a very long shoulder stand, he let us relax in corpse pose taking in the sound of a Tibetan bell, before sitting cross legged, fingers & thumbs connected with wrists gently sitting on our knees, and resonating our 'Ohms' till they were in harmony.

So after all my thoughts of dysfunction, work and concern had vanished from my head, I opened the door, and somehow, all my thoughts rushed back to me again... but it's the one and a half hours in that room, that made me more calm and rational about them...

When Boys Bring the Love... to friendship

Have you ever noticed that boys will Hi-5, pat their mates on the back or even give each other a massive group hug when they play team sports, roughing each others hair up and overwhelming happy to be on the team, but never interact with each other affectionately otherwise (unless they are brothers)? They don't greet each other with a hug when they come over for a play or see each other at the mall.  Where as girls will meet and greet with hugs and kisses as they mimic their parents doing the same with their friends.

This link is an amazing story about an autistic boy who was very much part of a college basketball team as the team manager. He was their biggest supporter and overly enthusiastic at their matches. Watch the link to see what happens... it brings you to tears, of joy.

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10150382299923934&set=vb.111166098951926&type=2&theater

The art to arguing

Over the years, you discover what sets people off and what doesn't. Where their soft spot is, where their vulnerabilities lie, who they protect and why, who are the peacekeepers and who are the instigators. But most will either stay quiet and dwell on the issue at hand letting them eat themselves up inside or defend their position with gusto, bells and whistles... but there is someone in between.

There is someone who has the courage to ask questions with a level head, understand that there are two sides to a story, that some things do come out wrong and unintentional and learn to forgive. They have the maturity to sit face to face with the person they have an issue with and confront the problem at hand with poise, love and composure.

So how do we gain the skills of stating your argument without being defensive? Is it something that we learn through observation, through education or through being comfortable with who we are? Do we know the people that we love so well, that we know how to approach them with a cool calming attitude, knowing that that is the way they will answer with honesty and integrity?  Or can these types of confrontations only be done with certain people - as some people with bellow out an argument if you told them that they had a hair out of place? Who knows...

I'm no psychologist, nor have I studied psychology, but I'm sure there is a certain button in all of us that makes us take a step back and start listening objectively, not defensively.

How do we teach our children this skill? With love and acceptance? By telling the truth, as the truth shall set you free? To explain the significance of an apology - where you apologise only if you realise that you made a mistake, are prepared not to make the same mistake again and learn from the event?

There has to be a level of trust in it all. If you've been betrayed by someone who has lied to you in the past, made judgement calls on your life or even did something against your foundations, you're most likely going to hide behind your defences if they bring up an argumentative situation. But if you have learnt to trust that person, your natural instinct is to listen objectively. It's human nature, isn't it?

So maybe, part of the forgiving process is to not yell and scream at each other, but listen reflectively. It may save some relationships, but then again, if you're coming up against the same attacking stand-off week after week, month after month, year after year, is the relationship worth saving? If that other person doesn't have the respect for you to take that step back and listen objectively, then maybe it's not... You've tried and given it your best shot, but they aren't willing to forgive. You need to let go and move on... Now, that's another lesson to teach our children...

When the tables have turned...

As a mum the evolution of your eating habits change. When you're pregnant, you tell yourself that it's OK to eat for two. You're not supposed to drink alcohol, eat French soft cheeses, eat raw fish, essentially eat all your favourite things, so you start eating bizarre combinations of chocolate and pickles or sardines and a glass of milk. Once you have your child, breast-feeding kicks in, and even though your weird selections have lessened, you are sleep deprived and do anything to get some energy into your system, so you go for the high sugar alternatives to keep you awake.

As your child starts to eat solids, you do everything you can to encourage them to eat the unusual textures and tastes. You taste it to see if it's too hot, you show them how yummy it is by over-exaggerating the action of eating and when they start pushing your hand away because they are full, you end up eating the leftovers. And you do it every time until one day you realise, "How did I put on that extra 10, 20 or 30 kilos?"

So when does the time come that they help you finish your plate and not the other way around? Well for me, I think it started last night... My boys wanted to go out for sushi. For them 'sushi' isn't raw fish, it's more like a chicken teriyaki hand-roll with cucumber, rice and seaweed. I decided to do something different and bought myself a proper sushi platter. There were small tuna rolls, an egg roll, a caviar morsel, prawn with rice, raw salmon with rice, raw tuna with rice, and slices of raw tuna and raw salmon on the side. It was a colourful selection like an assortment of chocolates, but a lot more healthier. As I plunged my chopsticks into the wasabi and dabbed a bit on my tasty samples, from one side of the table I get "Can I have some of the salmon?" Sitting next to me I get "Can I have the prawn?"  As one takes the salmon (it was actually the tuna he was after), the other one takes the prawn, then they just kept helping themselves. I didn't see a piece of raw tuna pass my lips, and the eight year old took off with my pieces of raw salmon as well as the prawn and even tried some of the caviar, wasabi and pickled ginger. I really didn't get to see much of my dinner, but I was happy to see them enjoying something different to hamburgers, nuggets and chips.

They convinced me that we should get dessert after, as they spotted an ice-cream shop on the way to getting Japanese. So they decided to get the sickly sweet 'rainbow' ice-cream in a cup, and I thought, for the same price I would go for pancakes with maple syrup with a dollop of vanilla ice-cream. Once they saw how delicious my Americano pancakes were, they then asked for a bite or two or three.

So, for what I thought would be a nice amount of food for dinner for me, ended up being half what I expected. But that's OK, I don't need to eat too much. It was just nice to see them finishing their meals and wanting to try new things without being prompted. Let's just see how long it lasts :)

Fact or Fiction?

Who can really tell what stories are made up and what are truths? How many stories are 'based on a true story' with a lot of the detail embellished to make the story more exciting? Where is the defining point that separates fact from fiction?

Here are a couple of stories - one is fact, the other is fiction. I bet you can't tell the truth...

In my normal work rounds, I met a lady yesterday who was a partial paraplegic using walking canes to get around, but also had a broken wrist, that had been broken since March, so it was almost impossible for her to get around without her wrist not repairing itself. She was selling her home because her husband left her for a 25 year old nursing student, and her oldest daughter followed her husband, leaving her alone with one high school aged daughter to fend for themselves. She couldn't work, and as a part of the separation she'd bought an apartment off-the-plan to live in, but that was caught up in VCAT (the Victorian Civil and Administration Tribunal) because the developers decided to put a 4th storey on the building after all the 3rd storey apartments had been sold. All the 3rd storey apartment owners are up in arms because they thought they were buying the top floor, but they hadn't. So the place she's moving to is running a year late in it's construction, and she is going to be left homeless if it's not completed within the next 4 months.  Her husband doesn't pay her a cent, as they have equal share of looking after the children, so she's almost destitute. She gets a small disability pension, but that's it. Not enough to look after a 5 bedroom house and a daughter in high school. Such a sad story.

A single mum friend of mine has been seeing a miner who works in South Australia. They talk constantly via Skype, phone calls and emails, and they get to see each other once a month. He either comes to Melbourne, or she goes to South Australia. Her children are 5 and 4, too little to understand that their mum loves another man, and so she hadn't told them. He comes to visit or she goes to see him when the children are in their father's care. One weekend, her new man was over and they were having playful S&M sex on the living room floor. It was amazing, something her ex-husband would never do. As she was whipping his arse as he lay across the coffee table, her ex-husband decides to drop the children off early without letting her know. He didn't know that she was involved with another man, and what she was doing was highly uncharacteristic of her. It was highly embarrassing for them all, and she had a lot of explaining to do.  She wasn't prepared to answer questions from her children about this man yet. She wasn't prepared to tell her ex-husband that she had moved on. But she also realised that the excitement with her new lover was separating her from the friendship she once had with her ex-husband. It all flooded back to her - the desires, the friendship, the love, the bond - everything that she had in her marriage she wanted back again in an instant with her ex-husband. She told her lover to go, and she'd call him, but only to tell him it was over. How does something like that make you go back? What is the trigger? What is in between putting her panties on and looking up to see her innocent children's eyes wondering what she was doing?  Who knows... but most women who make the decision never go back. But for the sake of her family, she felt it worthwhile.

I'm not going to tell you which story is true and which isn't. But they are both believable, both are drawn on factual elements, and both are like any other story I have written in this blog. But for the sake of family and friends who read my blog, I am pointing out to you that whatever you read here has partial truths and a lot of elaboration to create a story to help inspire, compare, and give understanding to all other single mums who read my blog. The first story is tragic and reminds my readers that our lives ain't that bad and we must push forward. The second story is a tale of loss of identity that was overcome by the caring nature she remembered that her ex-husband possessed and she want it back again. It's a tale of hope for all those hanging onto their past loves.

I look forward to writing more tales of hope, discovery, life, loves and loathes that help make single motherhood more bearable.