Lest We Forget

This year, we commemorate 100 years since the ANZAC force landed at Gallipoli.  For many Australians and New Zealanders, it is an important time to remember.  A significant date in our history which, unlike many of our holidays throughout the year, is not taken lightly nor turned into a bogan celebration with fireworks and drunken celebrations.  It is marked with sombre dawn services, the playing of the Last Post - perhaps a game of two up and a quiet beer while listening to stories from those who remember.

Some believe that ANZAC Day should not be a part of our calendar.  That war is murder and we shouldn't glorify it.  I don't believe that our current way of remembering this day in our history is a celebration.  The stories we are told and the information we are given absolutely shows the horrors and loss of war.  How is that glorifying it?  So many men and women were lost forever, family heritage changed and those who did make it home permanently scarred.  I see no glory there.  Purely respect and remembrance.

Yes, we also use this time to remember and honour those past or current service-people in other parts of the world and other combats.  We are honouring them, their bravery and that of their families and support networks.  Not those who make the decisions which lead to them being sent into danger.  Not the reasons behind the conflict.  The individuals who leave loved ones behind to protect our way of life, our right to be an independent nation.

I believe we owe it to their memory to ensure that our children continue to honour this date.  To keep it sacred.  To never forget the sacrifices which are made on our behalf and those which were made a century ago.  It's the very least we owe them.  One small day.

We should never forget.

Being Mama

One of the many things I am, which I have been for more than half my life, is Mum.  I am beyond proud to have this title to Daniel and Casey.  There are not a great amount of things in my life I can truly say I am proud of, but they are one, well... two.

My kids.  My babies (ok, so they are adults now, but that's just to the rest of the world.  To me, they are my babies).  A son and a daughter.  The two people I love the most in this world and who I would literally do anything for.  I am filled with wonder that two humans have so many characteristics and personality traits from each of their genetic backgrounds.  They are individuals with their own unique thoughts, feelings and personalities... yet those traits sneak in and define how those thoughts, feelings and personalities develop.  Offspring are a constant source of education in science.  Nature vs Nurture.  Genetics.  I am well chuffed to have created these two people.  To have been any part of who they now are and their place in this world.  They are caring, funny, intelligent creatures.  They acknowledge their imperfections.  They love and are loved.  They are so different from one another that I used to watch in awe that they both came from my body and were both raised in the same way by the same mother. 

Before I had children, I so wrongly assumed that being a parent meant taking a little person under your wing and teaching them about the world.  They have taught me so much more than I could have imagined possible.  About the world, myself and others.

I love to watch them interact in a way that only siblings can.  To express their opinions and frustrations to and at one another, yell, scream, stomp and declare war... then jump in defense of one another at the slightest hint of a criticism from anyone else.  Their own little 'in jokes' which make no sense to anyone but us.  I feel pure joy when I am fortunate enough to encounter the friends they have made and chosen to be in their lives, to see others care for them and appreciate the traits I love and admire in them.  I feel a secret pride when they each try to make me say "You're my favourite".  Who wouldn't love to be fought over?

I consider them both my friends.  Not in an attempt to be the 'Cool Mum', but in a genuine way that I enjoy their company and conversations with them.  I would choose to spend my time with either or both of them.  Not out of any kind of obligation, but out of desire.  Their company makes me feel content and happy, their hugs are soothing for my body and soul. 

We have been through a lot over the years, together and as individuals.  I don't claim to have been the best parent, but I've been the best one I could manage to be.  When people say you get no instruction manual when you have kids, I don't think you really listen - even now, with so much information at your fingertips I don't think you'll ever feel as incompetent as you do when you are holding your own screaming child with no clue as to how to make it stop.  To see hurt in your child's eyes and not know the right thing to say to help them feel better.

One day they won't have me around anymore.  I wish for this to be in the very distant future.  The thought of not being their Mum anymore is sad beyond words.  I'd like to think that when the time comes, they will be ready for the shift in our family dynamic.  That we will have thousands more memories and stories about times when Mum was a total loser that they can laugh about.  I know they will be ok - my ego isn't that big.  I also take comfort in knowing how caring and supportive they have been for me when I've needed it.  Another parenting surprise.  You expect to be the one giving your children support, comfort and solace.  I don't think anybody prepares you for getting the same in return - tenfold.  I'm pretty sure if I get the chance to haunt them, it will be with music.  They'll know I'm still around them.  Always.

Get outta my SPACE!

For as long as I can remember, I've bucked against people getting in my face like a drunk Texan in a bar on one of those mechanical bulls.  (Whose idea was it to put those things in bars anyway? Pure genius.  I bet less people get hurt because they're too drunk to tense up when they fall) 

Nothing has changed.  Right now, for example, I completely respect anyone's choice to worship any God and abide by any religion - I am talking religion here, not crazy extremist groups.  I think it's wonderful if people can afford to do so, help out charities.  I'm sure the new coffee shop / chiropractor / juice bar / gym is just fabulous.  Passionate about politics?  That's great. 

However. 

While I am walking down the street on my way to work / the train station / home / the shop do NOT, I repeat, do NOT attempt to walk in front of me, hold out your hand for the 'I will engage this sucker' handshake and ask me if I've found Jesus / want to try a new coffee place / have a bad back / want to donate / want to join the gym.  Nor do I want your insulation, roller shutters, raffle tickets, performing monkey, miracle glad wrap-slimming device / $3000 multi purpose kitchen knife/scales/throwing stars. 

My personal religious beliefs (or lack thereof) are not the subject here.  It's the principal of the thing.  I work in the city.  I have a limited amount of time to get from point a to point b.  Same as on the weekends or evenings if I have forgotten something at the supermarket and absolutely cannot avoid going in.  NO, I don't want to sign my child up for a cute dress-up photo shoot.  He is 25 years old and quite possibly would love to, but nobody needs to see those photos. 

This is the information age, is it not?  If I want to find out about your wonderful product, I will.  God only knows, it will fly around Facebook in no time. 

Oh, wait, is that only for the shite that doesn't exist, like the Listerine foot soak?  By the way, if you're reading this and you have shared that damned foot soak post, I KNOW you didn't try it before you shared it because the total contents of that recipe equals one cup of liquid.  Unless you are Barbie herself, you ain't soaking no dry, cracked feet in one cup of liquid.  That dry skin ain't falling off, honey.

I'm not saying you shouldn't be able to advertise your cause freely... but if you can see I'm trying to walk by, don't force yourself on me.  You know I saw you.  We both know I saw your t-shirt, hat and flyers.  We both also know very well that once I saw all of the above, I immediately changed my path to avoid you.  Do you REALLY think the best plan of action is to jump out in front of me, beaming with that extended hand?  If you do, I'll straighten things out for you right now.  You're WRONG.  You may think you're quirky or hilarious with the way you jump out in front of pedestrians, beaming.  You're not.  We see at least twenty of you a day and frankly, the novelty factor wore off after my third pants wetting - before I knew what was going on and was certain I was being mugged by Hi 5.

I don't mean to offend anyone who has taken time out of their day to voluntarily collect much needed cash for a charity they're passionate about.  To be honest, this most likely doesn't apply to you.  The volunteers collecting for the one day of the year charities never seem to jump in your face like the ones who're paid a commission for everyone they get to commit to a monthly payment.  They stand respectfully and probably get a lot more donations.

Thanks, have a great day.

Dancing with Yourself

Some things are still taboo to discuss with others - and I appreciate that.  Certain topics are perhaps more comfortable kept between close friends, family members and discussed appropriately at home.  Certain things we do are considered bad, dirty or we just don't want to admit we do them because they're just rather unpleasant but necessary.  Other things, we're conditioned to believe are 'bad'. 

Masturbation.  I'm quietly confident that most people have tried it in some way, shape or form.  Why is it still something that we, and particularly young people are made to feel ashamed of?  When you are a rampant pile of hormones, pimples, new hair in weird places, sweat and confusion shouldn't there be some pleasure?  Is it just me, or isn't it perfectly natural?  It's your own body and shouldn't feel free to explore it as you please?  Not on the bus, mind, that's just a bit far, but in private.  It's generally accepted that boys will start to spend considerable amounts of alone time, but what about the girls?  Nobody mentions that, so if a young girl wants to do some experimenting alone, does she feel like there's something wrong with her?  Moreso than she already did with regular teen angst?  Does she feel like some kind of a weirdo perve?  Probably. 

For many young people, puberty is the lead up to new relationships.  Possibly romantic, possibly sexual.  These relationships are terrifying, exciting, unknown and wrought with expectation.  We're jumping into them, sometimes with no example of how a 'happy' relationship works.  What a healthy couple looks like.  We've had many different examples of interracting with family and peers - but this is a game changer.  All things going well, you may begin to want to give and receive physical pleasure.  We tend to know what goes where and the general basics... but here's where I think we're setting ourselves and our kids up for failure.  If you don't know what pleases you or what doesn't, how is someone else supposed to guess?  How much extra pressure and stress are we putting on what is already a major event in our lives to navigate?  How much easier would those early fumblings be if you at least have a clue about what your physical preferences are - and if you could tell your partner what they are? 

Just in case you actually need convincing:

1. Masturbation helps you sleep.  It lowers your blood pressure and produces endorphins which ease stress and increase relaxation.

2. Masturbation prevents prostate cancer.  Best news you've heard all day, gents?  It flushes toxins from the urogenital tract.  True story.  You're welcome.

3. Masturbation alleviates urinary tract infections.  Similar to above - it flushes out old bacteria from the cervix.

4. Masturbation boosts your immunity. Ejaculation releases the hormone cortisol. It’s a stress hormone, but it can help strengthen and maintain your immune system.

5. Masturbation makes sex better. Practice makes perfect. Sex therapists strongly recommend that women who have not had an orgasm begin by pleasuring themselves.

Finding My Inner Cliche

I had a bit of an epiphany over the weekend - or after the weekend... I'm not entirely sure.  Partly, because of some amazing women.  They didn't DO anything, necessarily.  We didn't buy anything, change our lives in some dramatic way (other than laughing till I may have an internal injury)... they just helped me with a realisation - and they wouldn't even know it.

I'm blaming Hollywood, The Movies, TV and fiction books for my ongoing confusion about 'when will I be happy?'.  Will I get a 'happy ending'.  Maybe if I go for a massage in a very special massage parlour.... no, the OTHER happy ending.  When does that happen?   How will I know if I don't hear "Don't you forget about me" playing in the background as the credits roll?  Movies always end at the beginning.  About 90 minutes of kerfuffle.... then everything comes together.. The End.  No, no, no, no, NO!  That's not how it goes.  You can't just have that happy rush of excitement at a new thing, then The End.  I don't just mean relationships.  Work, a house, car - life.

Then I realised it.  It actually hit me.  That fricken fracken quote I keep seeing about life being about the journey and not the destination is true.  Well, shiver me flippin timbers.  Whoda thunkit?  My gob is smacked. I've spent all this time thinking that happy had to mean fireworks, surprises, shiny things and excitement every day when in fact, for me - it's being comfortable and content in general, everyday life.  I was certain I would feel a bolt from the blue, or see a billboard one morning "This is IT.  You are Now Happy".   It's not something that I will get to eventually if I do enough stuff in my lifetime.  It's now, enjoying what I already have, what I'm doing now.  I have a great life.  I have to work, so that sucks a bit - I would quite like to be wealthy enough to just enjoy a lifestyle to which I would like to become accustomed, but that's not on the cards right now.  In the meantime, I'm fortunate enough to be employed.  I earn enough to pay my bills, put food on the table and have a bloody good life.  I have friends and family who I love and who love me.  Ideally, I would like to see them more often, so it would be nice to not be quite so busy, but when I do, it's comfortable.  Comfortable must be my new happy.  My man and I are comfortable.  We can have conversations.  Or not.  It's ok because we're comfortable.  I can be honest with the people in my life.  "How are you today, Son?".  'Bit crap, actually, but that's ok.'  "Bugger, anything you need?".  'Yeah, maybe a hug and some cake'.  Done.  Sorted.  Ok, it's not always quite that simple... but you get the idea.  Works so much better than "Fine thanks".  Then not being fine, stewing on not being fine and wondering why Nobody Gets Me.  Fool woman!

What is happiness?  I don't know.  I can't make the words for anyone else.  I still reserve the right to bitch and moan about things, be a grumpy old bag from time to time.... but in general, I am happy.  I'm there.  I laugh a lot.  I enjoy the company of those around me - and even myself.  I have enough in my life to be comfortable, to relax in my downtime or to do things if I feel like it.  I don't need to keep looking around for what I want to do, where I want to be, who I want to be with.  It's all already there.  I just need to sit back and soak it up. 

Now... what do I want to be when I grow up?

Oh My Giddy Aunt!

If I could just have a moment out of my own head.  What would that be like?

Instead of a morning starting with, "What day is it?  Where am I?  How could it possibly be morning already?  Right, must get out of bed now or we'll start running late.  Won't have time for coffee and will miss the train." Meaning I won't get to work early enough to not consider myself late.  "How hot is it actually going to be today?  Are we talking the firey depths of Hell, can't touch the steering wheel, only handle the seat belt buckle with asbestos gloves or just hop across the ground like a Masai Warrior kind of hot?  Do I wear the dress that allows me to wear the comfy bra, or do I go with the one which looks nicer (no brainer, comfy bra wins every time)  Did I wash a comfy bra yet?  Damnit!  Do I now have time to drink my coffee out the back while talking to the dog, or do I have to sneak sips in between fixing hair and makeup application?  Urgh, then I'll have to brush my teeth after I've put my makeup on and we all know how that's going to end.  Is Cam awake yet?  Does he need coffee too?  Did I remember to order the catering for that board meeting today?  Is that board meeting still on today?  Do I have any lunches left in the pantry?  Please don't make me have to buy one, that's a whole other decision I'd have to make - not to mention a complete waste of ten bucks just for a ham sambo.  Alright, really need a wee, let's go." 

This is before my feet have hit the floor.  It may look like I'm just slow to get going or I'm procrastinating, when the truth is, I have so much to get in order before I can start. 

Don't get me started on the night time head space.  Too late.  Here's a taste.  It starts while I'm reading in bed.  This is to fool myself into having wind down time to switch off before I go to sleep.  Currently, the main character in the book I'm reading has Asperger's.    That's thought provoking enough and raises many questions for me, which I sometimes have to Google to find out the answer to (looking at phone while in bed is bad, I KNOW!).  Then I start looking at the time and bargain with myself.  "If you read for 10 more minutes, then fall asleep within 15 minutes, you'll still get 6 hours sleep and feel ok tomorrow".  Never going to happen, because I don't get to the end of the chapter at exactly the right time, so I strike up a new deal.  Have to get up to pee?  "Well, there's no way I can go right to sleep, might as well start a new chapter.  If you finish THIS chapter within 15 minutes, then fall asleep within 15 minutes, you'll still get 4.5 hours of sleep.  Not great, but you can still function on that".  This can go on literally for hours.  Not even kidding.

My husband, however.  Wakes up.  "Bloody nuts are itchy.  Gonna take a leak then have a shower."  Walks to wardrobe, picks up nearest pair of jeans and shirt that have been washed and hung for him.  Starts day.  Asshole.

Why I don't have any gay friends

I don't have any gay friends, or work friends, or coffee friends.... I just have friends.  I don't feel the need to label people I know by how we met, how I know them or a particular feature they have.  Once someone is my friend, I would rather think "that is my friend, Esme".  End of.  I don't think "that's my straight friend, Esme", or "I used to work alongside Esme and we had great conversations and spent hour after hour together at work" or even "oh, Esme, remember that time you emailed our boss a picture of your.."... never mind.... 

Actually, I don't think I have any friends named Esme. If you know an Esme whom you think I would get along with, please let me know.

I find the labels people are given to be of an odd significance.  For example, if I were to achieve greatness, sorry WHEN I achieve greatness (as soon as interpretive dance is an Olympic sport, I'm in) I would be disappointed to be referred to as "Straight White Brown Eyed Interpretive Dancer".  The gender of the person I am in love with and the colour of my skin and eyes are irrelevant to my given talents and profession.  They most certainly shouldn't be credited first.

When Ian Thorpe came out publicly about his sexuality, he instantly went from Five Times Olympic Gold Medalist to Gay Swimmer.  Why do we do that?  Oprah was an African American Talk Show Host and now Ellen is a Lesbian Talk Show Host.  How far does it need to go?  Will we start changing our email signatures and business cards to point these details out?

I don't want to downplay the positive aspects of people in the public eye being honest about their private lives - if they choose to do so.  If they can make the road less bumpy for others to travel, that's wonderful.  It just seems to me that perhaps the focus is constantly on a trait which is not necessarily what makes them a person.  Just my humble opinion.