Another day, another dollar - except for me it's spending dollars not earning them as I have no income ☺
Catching up on the things that didn't get done yesterday, like getting the kids school uniforms, ironing, cleaning etc but that's the "reward" for the "day off" yesterday. Hmmmmmm.
Have had lots of cuddles this morning, which is always nice, and am feeling better, except for the yelling between the siblings that seems to be louder than normal today.
Blessings and thanks for the comments and emails; I appreciate your understanding and support and am sending you all love, light and laughter in thanks.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Happy Mothers Day
Another day where expectation exceeded reality. Mothers Day. A day when those who are grateful express gratitude and the otherwise resonating silence echoes in the halls of our days. My children hug me and kiss me and express pure and innocent joy while all others in my life are there and not here, a product of my own making, I'm sure.
I had two wishes of this day: to sleep in and to spend time with my outlaws. Not much to ask, surely, but neither happened.
In my adult life, Mothers Day has always been a sad day for me, where where my personal resistance is stood to answer for my hopes and dreams that I have sacrificed to no reward. And while reward was not the intent, insignificance was not the desire either.
Were I a stupid, good for nothing, layabout, trading hot-dogs for moments of mourning and poker machines for moments of commitment, then my return would be the greater, it seems. But I am me, passionate ambassador for right and wrong and wronger and righter of those who would never provide the natural equilibrium that my heart of hearts always believed in.
And today, I reap what I sow. Hugs and and joy from my own children, half-arsed efforts from my step-children, polite indifference from my blood Bear, and zero effort from my chosen one. Excuses mean nothing, he is what he is and that part of my life is what it is and together it makes me feel unworthy of existance. My tears make me feel ungrateful and my aching heart makes me feel selfish.
Yet, I understand. If no one else understands, I do. It is better to be knowingly alone and sure of ones standing than to build a life around those that care little and will never understand the pain and disappointment of pointless and unappreciated sacrifice.
So, on another day when I am meant to be appreciated, I sit alone and contemplate my choices, for if nothing else in this world is mine then my choices alone define me. I am not whole and I am not complete. I do not disclose all of who I am to anyone and as an honest and open person this is torture to my soul. Anonymous giving is truly rewarding but known giving followed by complete absence of appreciation and gratitude, well, I'm sorry but that just tears into my heart and makes me want to slap myself either for not being enough or for choosing a life where apathy is my reflection.
Such is where I am tonight. Happy Mothers Day.
I had two wishes of this day: to sleep in and to spend time with my outlaws. Not much to ask, surely, but neither happened.
In my adult life, Mothers Day has always been a sad day for me, where where my personal resistance is stood to answer for my hopes and dreams that I have sacrificed to no reward. And while reward was not the intent, insignificance was not the desire either.
Were I a stupid, good for nothing, layabout, trading hot-dogs for moments of mourning and poker machines for moments of commitment, then my return would be the greater, it seems. But I am me, passionate ambassador for right and wrong and wronger and righter of those who would never provide the natural equilibrium that my heart of hearts always believed in.
And today, I reap what I sow. Hugs and and joy from my own children, half-arsed efforts from my step-children, polite indifference from my blood Bear, and zero effort from my chosen one. Excuses mean nothing, he is what he is and that part of my life is what it is and together it makes me feel unworthy of existance. My tears make me feel ungrateful and my aching heart makes me feel selfish.
Yet, I understand. If no one else understands, I do. It is better to be knowingly alone and sure of ones standing than to build a life around those that care little and will never understand the pain and disappointment of pointless and unappreciated sacrifice.
So, on another day when I am meant to be appreciated, I sit alone and contemplate my choices, for if nothing else in this world is mine then my choices alone define me. I am not whole and I am not complete. I do not disclose all of who I am to anyone and as an honest and open person this is torture to my soul. Anonymous giving is truly rewarding but known giving followed by complete absence of appreciation and gratitude, well, I'm sorry but that just tears into my heart and makes me want to slap myself either for not being enough or for choosing a life where apathy is my reflection.
Such is where I am tonight. Happy Mothers Day.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Opposites Attract
The Starchild and I are clearly made from different moulds; that is something of which I am sure. He was asleep on the lounge when I came home after a wonderful night out at the cottage for a beautiful full moon ritual (thanks, Jen) and chats afterwards (thanks, sisters). I did a whole lot of nothing on the computer for a few hours until I was ready for bed and we both retired for the night.
I woke this morning and lay in bed for a time while The Starchild was out at swimming lessons with the smiley monster. He came home shortly after only to leave again to do a delivery to Pokolbin (he's a courier). During that time I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed, had a spot of breakfast, *tried* to get enough mess either tidied or hidden sufficiently to get to the vacuuming, fed children, directed children to the Weekly Room Tidy with bribes of pocket money, washed two loads of clothes (something that I'm sure I did only two days ago), rediscovered the dining table under piles of paperwork, toys, drawings, mail in various states of opening, an inexplicably large number of pens, pencils and miscellaneous household items, then I sharpened twelve new pencils for the kids to do their homework with, re-homed several other items purchased during the week that were beginning to think their destiny was not along the paths intended during manufacture but to merely exist in the bag that they were brought home from the shops in and to reside on the green lounge in the dining room where they could enjoy the comings and goings of the other inmates here at the zoo, sorted and redistributed more piles of drawings, paintings, unidentifiable craft work, junk mail, newspapers and other items that appear to be magnetised with the opposite polarity as the end of my kitchen bench which they are therefore unavoidably drawn to, did 'school work' with the smiley monster and completely failed to get to the vacuuming as planned before The Starchild came home.
As soon as he was home, he had some breaky then loaded up his truck with some bush rocks that we had spare and took them and the Kman around to the tea lady's as I had volunteered us to help them give their garden a make over in preparations for them putting their house on the market. I wrote a letter to the nine live cat with clipped wings, including pictures from our trip to town on the train from last Sunday, hung out the washing and then also headed over to the tea ladies with the impossible princess and the smiley monster in tow.
We had a lovely and productive day. The tea lady and I were in charge of the plants and chose a lovely selection of Australian natives. The boys did the major clearing work while the kids played in the dirt and mud. By the end of the day, their garden looked just wonderful, but I do believe I have never seen dirtier kids in my life. We literally hosed them off before we loaded them in the car and headed home.
Now, I'm here on the computer again and The Starchild is asleep on the lounge again. We are such opposites in so many ways, but it certainly seems to work - well, some days at least. It makes me think there is merit in the adage that opposites attract.
I woke this morning and lay in bed for a time while The Starchild was out at swimming lessons with the smiley monster. He came home shortly after only to leave again to do a delivery to Pokolbin (he's a courier). During that time I dragged myself out of bed, got dressed, had a spot of breakfast, *tried* to get enough mess either tidied or hidden sufficiently to get to the vacuuming, fed children, directed children to the Weekly Room Tidy with bribes of pocket money, washed two loads of clothes (something that I'm sure I did only two days ago), rediscovered the dining table under piles of paperwork, toys, drawings, mail in various states of opening, an inexplicably large number of pens, pencils and miscellaneous household items, then I sharpened twelve new pencils for the kids to do their homework with, re-homed several other items purchased during the week that were beginning to think their destiny was not along the paths intended during manufacture but to merely exist in the bag that they were brought home from the shops in and to reside on the green lounge in the dining room where they could enjoy the comings and goings of the other inmates here at the zoo, sorted and redistributed more piles of drawings, paintings, unidentifiable craft work, junk mail, newspapers and other items that appear to be magnetised with the opposite polarity as the end of my kitchen bench which they are therefore unavoidably drawn to, did 'school work' with the smiley monster and completely failed to get to the vacuuming as planned before The Starchild came home.
As soon as he was home, he had some breaky then loaded up his truck with some bush rocks that we had spare and took them and the Kman around to the tea lady's as I had volunteered us to help them give their garden a make over in preparations for them putting their house on the market. I wrote a letter to the nine live cat with clipped wings, including pictures from our trip to town on the train from last Sunday, hung out the washing and then also headed over to the tea ladies with the impossible princess and the smiley monster in tow.
We had a lovely and productive day. The tea lady and I were in charge of the plants and chose a lovely selection of Australian natives. The boys did the major clearing work while the kids played in the dirt and mud. By the end of the day, their garden looked just wonderful, but I do believe I have never seen dirtier kids in my life. We literally hosed them off before we loaded them in the car and headed home.
Now, I'm here on the computer again and The Starchild is asleep on the lounge again. We are such opposites in so many ways, but it certainly seems to work - well, some days at least. It makes me think there is merit in the adage that opposites attract.
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