dream weaving

I fear my post on nightmares may have been a self prophecy.

After 9 months of being nightmare-free (give or take), at least my insomnia was manageable.

But suddenly the weirdo, help my kids are missing type of dreams are back.

The suckiest thing about being single? waking up from a bad dream alone.

I did have one REALLY weird one last week too....read at your own risk!

I am dancing.  I am really enjoying it, lots of twirling and spinning.

I have a great dance partner, who is delighting in spinning me around.

The dance partner morphs into a Bolivian folk singer called Fonterra, and is now my boyfriend.  He has long black hair, a flashing smile and a shark tooth earring.  He is short.  (I have danced in real life with someone who kind of looks like this).

I look across to ask another man to dance.  I really want to dance with the other guy. It's someone I know in real life.    But in the dream he has become a Hare Krishna.  He's jumping around with his drum, having a great time, extolling the virtues of his newfound passion, with such fervour that he is oblivious to all that is happening around him. Then he's dancing right in front of me and saying, 'soon, later, I just want to finish this dance first'.  
Fonterra keeps pulling me away, but because he is so short I can see the other guy over his head.

I wake up feeling exhausted and discombobulated.

It's was so vivid I can can still recall the details of it, 10 days later.

I've described this dream to a couple of people, the interpretations are extraordinary.  What do you think it means?

the next best thing

I have a special gift for coming second.

I think maybe it's because I peaked too early...first born of four children.  First to make the front page of the paper at age 1.  And again at age 4.  First on the stage at 5.  Won my first ever piano competition at 8.  It was all downhill from there...

I have the dubious honour of being picked not once, not even twice, but actually three times for UNDERSTUDY in the school play.

I was an excellent straight-B student.

In the school orchestra I was always honoured with playing second flute.  And being the subsitute piano player.  Oh and singing alto - but never in the first row, always just behind.

It was my second car (ah the Nissan 180B) that was the cool one - till I wrote it off.

Once I got a speeding ticket for going 90 in a 50 km zone.  I was pretty proud of that, in a weird kind of way - I was late for church.  When I got there, I announced my feat - too late, someone else had got one just before me, going even faster.

I recently met up with a boy I had a secret crush on when I was a teenager.  He married my friend.  

Without exception, every boy I went out with before I got married myself, married their next girlfriend (actually does that make me second or first???).  I often heard 'oh you are just the girl I would like to marry...if I actually WANTED to get married...which I don't...'

Sheesh even when I contracted meningitis in 2004 and was whisked off in an ambulance I arrived at hospital to learn my mother had already been diagnosed and admitted with it!

Maybe I'm just better at following trends than setting them?

I console myself with this:  coming second ACTUALLY means, coming last...First!

grumpy old bag

I want to be one of those loving positive mothers I really do.  When my kids are fractious, I want to be the one who says, 'oh, let's blow bubbles' or 'aha, what you need is to come and cook with me'..

But, the truth is, I'm not that person.  Yes, mostly I'm positive, but I sometimes find myself saying NO almost as an automatic reaction to my kids requests before I've even digested the question.  Can I have a - NO! Mum, will you - NO! Can I go to - NO

I saw the shorts for a movie, called The Boys are Back.  In it, the actor says, Just Say Yes.  It's about parenting alone, it makes sense to me, kind of.

http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi3531014681/

We rob ourselves, and our kids, of such simple joys, all in the name of calm, order, quiet and minimising mess.


I resolve to say YES more and NO less.

shut up

ten thousand spoons, when all you need is a knife...

Somewhat ironic to be using a blog - the home of opinion and freedom to express - to pontificate on the benefits of shutting up, but there it is...

I often joke, semi-seriously, that my maxim for life is that it is easier to seek forgiveness than to ask permission.  I have to say, that mostly, that works for me.  Mainly because I have this annoying habit - oops, I mean underdeveloped skill - of saying or doing what comes to me, rather than spending a whole lot of time planning and thinking before acting.  On the other hand, I truly excel at looking back in retrospect and agonising with great embarrassment over why I did or said something!  (this is usually followed by afore mentioned seeking of forgiveness, or even more rash act as vain attempt to assuage guilt for first rash act!).

And I talk for a living, pretty much, so I've well and truly got in the habit of sharing what's in my head and heart. (Although don't be decieved..I might be noisy but I am still a pretty private person).

So, what's to be done about it.  I think the realisation I've come to is that rather than jumping in boots and all - and consequently coming across as scary redhead girl, I probably just need to learn to shut up more.

Which brings me to the second irony...people tell me stuff.  I delight in sharing peoples trials and tribulations.  And I know things that I wish I didn't.  There are husbands of friends that I can't look in the eye.  Damn, there are FRIENDS I sometimes can't look in the eye!!! That said,  I love that people feel safe to tell me things. And know that they won't go any further than me.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  So, I figure that at least some of the time I must be good at listening - ergo, good at shutting up.

So how come, when zipping it is most crucial, I can't help but share?  Yep, I can wear my heart on my sleeve - it will probably be to my eternal detriment that I'm not a game player...I'm told that this is the way of the world and most people like a little challenge, especially in the male/female relationship arena.  I also have a loathing of broken relationship - I truly cannot bear being on the wrong side of a friend, or having unresolved conflict - hence my tendency to over analyse and often be the first to seek restitution (sometimes before the dust is even settled).  

What's the right course of action here?  Should we be honest...transparent...and forthright...or is it sometimes better to be reticent and even taciturn at times?

Should I just learn to shut up?

boys and girls come out to play

The conversation turned, as oft it does in the company of single men and women, to the ins and outs (or more specifically highs and lows...) of relationships.
It meandered through the usual semi-serious desparaging remarks about our qualities and attractiveness, post 40.  We laughed at some insights, compared war stories, made broad generalisations on the state of male/female relationships.
The question arose: could men have women for friends without benefits...or without the complications of growing/continued emotional attachment? Could women in vice versa?
Opinions were sharply divided.  Interestly, one woman said, absolutely not - either the ones you wanted to grow potential never did, or the ones you weren't interested in made unwelcome moves.

Another said, yes it's possible.  The man in the group said, yes, of course, many of my friends are women.

I've had this conversation with so many people.  It occurred to me that in my immediate circle of friends (not counting those of new acquaintance), I am the only single.  in the wider 'single friends' group, there is pretty much men only (in fact just one other female friend).  Which says to me, yes, men and women CAN be friends.  The spark that's needed to grow and enjoy friendship doesn't necessarily have to translate into anything more...even though sometimes that is nice, and desirable.

I am glad my kids see me having friendship with both men and women.  They love my male friends - possibly more than the 'mummy' friends actually (so much more fun, less growling, more play).

I really enjoy male company - it's a different dynamic to time with the girls...

What do you think?

a feast for the senses

Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; 

for that called Body is a portion of Soul discerned by the five Senses, 

the chief inlets of Soul in this age.

William Blake

Cool rain on warm ground
Coffee just-made
Hot buttered toast
These things I love to smell


Strong shoulders
expensive cotton sheets
warm dough ready for kneading
These things I love to touch


Kids playing
The faint sound of music growing louder as I draw close to a party
spontaneous singing, just for the joy of it
These things I love hearing


Rainbows
Glossy magazines
Photographs of those I love
These things I love to look at


Dark dark chocolate, melting on my tongue
First kisses
Raspberries straight from the garden
These things I love tasting


The smell of my children, fresh from a bath
The taste of home baking, still warm from the oven
The sight of a sunrise, viewed from my bed
The feel of a hug, encompassing me
The sound of laughter, unabandoned


These things nourish my soul

a freakin' nightmare

All my life i have been plagued by bad dreams.

Those horrible, wake up gasping for breath, feeling sweaty ones. Often scary. Sometimes I remember the 'story' but often I don't, it's just an overhang of emotions.

I'm a really bad sleeper anyway, so to be woken by a bad dream is salt in the wound for me.

I've tried everything...pills and potions, staying awake longer, going to bed earlier, dark room, light room, quiet, noise, different pillows and blankets, even counselling etc etc etc etc etc. Alllargely to no avail. Doesn't help me sleep any better and none seem to stop bad dreams for long.

I absolutely hate waking from a bad dream and being on my own. really hate it.

I hate waking every 20 minutes or so (I know, I've timed it....).

What I have realised though, is that the dreams seem to happen when i have an unidentified stress in my head. I can feel it tugging at the back of my mind now, but can't figure out what it is I'm actually stressed about. Sheesh, it's enough to make you lose sleep over it!

Tips anyone?

a letter to my 18 year old self

Dear Susan,
(I promise you will never ever ever be called Sue)

There's a fad doing the rounds on the internet at the moment. It's where women write letters to their 15 year old selves, giving sage advice and reminding themselves how wonderful life could be for them, if only they would listen to their own words.

I figure you didn't really need much advice at 15, in fact not sure that at 18 you are going to even want to listen, but I'm going to take the chance to remind you of some of the things you're going to learn in the next 10 years....

1. The next time you are made to feel stupid, walk away! There's lots of people who think you are not very bright and that's their loss. Just because you chose to work rather than go to university, doesn't mean you weren't capable of it. You might never do any full time study, but that's ok. Just make the most of all the courses and workshops you're going to be sent on over the next few years. Follow your passions...write when you want to write. Don't when you don't. Keep it all - you'll wish you had!

2. A few more think you are way too bossy and opinionated - well they are right actually, but hang on to that. Having such a strong sense of self is going to keep you out of trouble. It probably wouldn't hurt for you to be a bit less forthright when sharing those 'big beliefs' - not everyone is as ardent as you about what they believe in.

3. grab every opportunity that comes your way. some things will only happen once in your lifetime. Soon, the Berlin wall is going to come down and you are going to wish for the rest of your life that you went over to be there when it happened. You're going to get a chance to live in another country, in another culture, and you should embrace that and saturate yourself in the experience for as long as you are able.

4. Just because their aren't any 'lady bank managers' now, doesn't mean you can't do it. Right now, a career is the last thing on your mind. Which is great - work hard, earn money and go and see the world. And know that one day, you can come back and make a real impact on the lives of the people you work with and for.

5. Be kind to yourself. One day, trust me, you're going to LOVE your red hair.

Yes, you're probably going to starve yourself and overeat and never be happy with how you look. Let it go. Respect your body, and your mind. Know that you are fearfully and wonderfully made. Surround yourself with people who love you and build you up. WALK AWAY from the stupid boys that will feed you all kinds of rubbish to salve their own insecurites.

Above all, Do what you love. Hang on to what you beleive to be right and true.
Take joy in the fact that those who are your closest friends now, still will be in 25 years.
That which saddens, and maddens youknow,still will.
All those things that make your heart sing - still will.

gathering round the table

It's been quite some time since I blogged about things spiritual.

This morning I went to the 10 year birthday celebration of mainly music running at a church in town. I used to go to this church as a 'young person'...went there for 10 years give or take. I have visited on occasion since, but not been to a service there since 1990.

In the ten years I attended, I got pretty involved - youth group member, then leader. in the band. leading bible study. discipling and being discipled. part of model Christian couple (what a joke but not a topic for this blog!). And yet I never really felt 'part of things'. Can't say why, maybe because I wasn't a 2nd or 3rd generation attendee...maybe because in all that time I personally felt a bit of a phony? I certainly walked the walk and talked the talk. But in the generation above me I often felt I was a bit invisible, and even in my peer group, I felt a bit on the outer - a bit different, certainly way uncooler than them.

So, going back, it was not without a little trepidation. I walked in and felt at home. So far so good. Lots of people greeted me warmly. There were many familiar faces, and lots of new ones.

I watched the children stand on the stage and sing. I sang along with the worship band. I listened to the sermon - even could agree with most of what was said.

But.

Yes, there had to be a but...a big butt:)
It was time for communion/Lords Supper/Breaking of bread/eucharist.

An announcement was made: This ceremony is for Christians. It's for people who love Jesus. It's for people who go to this church. If you don't, or aren't, that's fine, just pass it to the next person. Similarly, when the offering basket comes around, if you are not from this church, then pass it on, you don't have to put any money in.

Excuse me???? Show me where in the Bible it says that 'Christians' are the only ones to take bread and wine. Show me where it says you can only do this if you regularly attend the church you happen to be sitting in. Tell me where it says, that if you regularly attend church, you should be giving them money.

I remember now why I left.

care to dance?

21 reasons I love to go dancing...


I get to wear great shoes

Once a week, for two hours, I get to think about nothing but me

The music simply makes me feel terrific

It's a great way to exercise

I get treated like a girl...or is that a lady:)

It's like Prom night, once a month, every month

I get to wear gorgeous shoes

Dancers have lots of energy - I love that

I forget I used to be the shortsighted fat redhead

It's just damn good clean fun

I have an excuse to get dressed up

Every song is a great song to dance to

There's always someone who wants to dance with me

I can have a great night out with no hangover

Did I mention the shoes?

It doesn't matter how old, or fat, or young or thin you are, it's still great fun

A great lighting system makes everyone look 10 years younger

It's a great night out for hardly any $$$

There's always someone new to dance with

And there's always some new moves to learn




Oh, and I get to wear really really great shoes! :)

50 and fabulous

It is almost 5 years since my first blog, and this one counts as my fiftieth missive. (The picture of the coffee cup is deceiving - it's not me that's 50:))

I reckon I've had a quite a journey over that time...my original intention was to share my wit and wisdom about small business and small people. It's been a moveable feast that's for sure. (oh and i even have been asked by someone to guest blog on a foodblog, a truly moveable feast!) I've become a bit more focussed and committed to posting of late, yet, (unsurprisingly for me, really!) still seem to find plenty to go on about.

Today, as I work at my computer, in front of the heater, a dull and cold day outside, I am feeling extremely grateful for my work from home job, my cosy house, oh, and my handy location to cafe and school. I need to venture out soon to the office (that's about 5 metres across my back lawn) and even that isn't very appealing, let alone the 200 metre trip to the mail box I need to make as well!

I love the culture of micro business, of philanthropic venture, and of downshifting. They all work for me. I had a wonderful time living in some of the worlds great cities (London, Tokyo, Christchurch:)!), and a sparkling career for a multinational. But given the opportunity to go back to that - not in a million! Sure, the money was great, it was exciting and challenging, but as I spoke of yesterday, I think I am glad to have those great memories as just that - an age and stage, possibly yet to be returned to, but probably not.

I live in a very small town, where everyone, literally, knows each other. Kids are in and out of each others houses. There's almost always time to chat at the school gate, or the little supermarket. Lots of people walk or bike around the place. We know all the dogs that go past, even the rubbish collectors are familiar faces. There's always something happening, something to join in with. There's a strong sense of belonging here.

My wages are, frankly, pretty tragic, but I like working for the organisations I do. The hours are awesome (most of the time), all my jobs are fairly kid friendly - that's the work from home aspect, and each role has an aspect of philanthropy and community wellbeing that really resonates with me.

I stand by my claim that one must do the things that make our heart sing. Maybe that's the job, the business, the career. Maybe having that job allows us to do the things that really make us sing when we're not at work. Either way, a sense of peace and satisfaction goes a long way towards making our days just that little bit brighter - especially on the cold/I've overslept/I've overspent/I've overeaten days!

At almost half way through the year, I looked at my list of resolutions and goals (the one I didn't publish here...). I'm doing ok as it turns out. I like having things to aim for, and I do believe that writing things down makes us much more likely to focus and ultimately achieve the things we want to.

Yep, at the risk of sounding smug, I'd have to say, that despite the HUGE highs and lows of the past 5 years and the total change of direction (more than once) I'm pretty satisfied with life.

Are you? What makes your heart sing?

letting go

I watched 'drop dead diva' last night.

Actually I watch it most weeks. The theme is irritatingly repetitive - once thin model girl dies and turns into fat career girl. will her otherlife boyfriend fall in love with her again or won't he? can she be happy being a fat career girl?

But last night, one line really did resonate with me. As Jane is thinking of her previous life (it's birthday time) she realises she has to move on from who she no longer is. The line? 'perhaps in order to move on I have to let go'.

Not terribly deep perhaps - or even an original idea, but I liked it. It is SO easy to hang on to the past, even a crappy past, because it's what we know and love (or want to love). It's so easy to spend time thinking of how things might have been, should have been or could have been.

But how liberating to literally loosen our grip on that stuff that can't be changed, and instead point those same fingers in a new direction. I think letting things 'be', however they were is hard...I don't pretend to know even how to begin...and it certainly doesn't mean that what is in the past, or even the now, is not important or valuable or impactful.

But, I figure to hang on tight to the past means it's impossible to even turn and look at the future let alone embrace it.

I choose to let go.

blogging on blogging

I've been blogging, on and off for nearly 5 years. Things have changed - my life has changed, beyond anything I could have imagined really.
I've started reading other blogs, I'm even on a blogroll (www.kiwimummyblogs.co.nz)

I love being able to surf through blogs of others, getting insights into peoples lives (yes some might consider it slightly stalkerish, or voyeuristic I suppose, but people who blog know they are sharing details of their lives in a public forum).

What fascinates me most is how we can read these public personas and so often feel a kinship with a complete stranger. Perhaps their take on life is similar to ours, or they are going through some kind of experience that we have shared (or we'd like to have for ourselves). As I mentioned in a previous blog, there is an uncanny sense of intimacy in reading anothers thoughts and sharing back ones own.

Some writers are deliberately provocative in their topics and opinions. Some just share the minutae of their daily lives. Others pick the big issues to dissect and ruminate over.

For all that I share myself, in fact I am quite a private person. Not shy, not even reserved really, but it is I think, a small and exclusive membership to the club of people who really know me.

I wonder, how transparent should we be when blogging? How much information is too much information? Are there things that you would really like to know about your favourite bloggers? Or maybe things you really wish you didn't? Does it matter?

extreme weather conditions

Well this is a first for me...feeling I don't really know what to talk about here. Not because I have nothing to say (yeah right!!!) but because there's so much to think about.
It's been a week of real highs and lows for my little family.
As I mentioned in my last post, I had a mentally and physically exhausting week last week. 4 meetings, about 30 hours of work, 800 km of driving, and the usual day to day stuff. whew! But also it was tinged with some sadness. Last Wednesday a good friend moved away - a long way away and I will miss her. There was a funeral - a good mate of FDH who died unexpectedly and tragically, leaving children, a partner, a business. Yesterday, it was time to say goodbye to another wonderful friend and her family who are moving, also quite far away, to explore new opportunities.
the Dancing Queen was in tears, the laughing engineer took it all in his stride. She had an argument with the friend only minutes before our goodbyes, and when you're 8, that's pretty huge. She 'didn't want to talk about it' and just wanted to 'get over it'...through the tears and self recriminations.
And the highs...well they were highs all right. Dance party on Friday night, so so much fun and more so with every week as I slowly improve and get more confident with being flung around a dance floor. Saturday I was on my feet, as door person at the Ceroc Champs, from midday to midnight - and the time just flew. Absolutely astounding dancers, a wonderful friendly atmosphere and the night ended on a high when several of my dancing friends received trophies.
The club owners are amazing and worked like mad to make the weekend the success it was.

I think I've had about 8 hours sleep since Thursday....not helped by the galeforce winds, and accompanying rain that pounded the windows last night (remind me again why I live under a mountain on the west side of NZ...). But coffee is beautiful, and my intray is empty.

I'm goin' shopping:)

feeling thingy

Tonight was one of those proud moments in a mother's life that remind us why we do it all.

I've had, frankly, a stoopid week. I've clocked up over 500 km in the car since Monday and it's only Thursday. I've juggled work for two jobs, attended 3 meetings, and spend a heap of time on running-around-for-kids stuff. My head has pounded mercilessly (no matter how much coffee I drink it just won't stop....) and my normal insomnia (I wake about every 40 minutes) has increased to lying away counting coffee cups (I mean, sheep, obviously). My floor hasn't been vacuumed since Saturday - aaargh this is me we're talking about remember. Son commented today as he got in the bath having unsuccessfully tried to stuff his clothes in the washbasket, 'gee Mum, it's about time you did some washing!'. I've had lunch with two friends this week (lovely), a brief coffee with another (also lovely although way too short!), and had fleeting conversations with my parents. I need, I think, around 4.25 hours extra each day and then I'd be about right...

I'm still ever so slightly, just a tiny bit, marginally and nominally a bit sore about the stuff I blogged on last week. I have heard several people, when I mention this is my 'childfree' weekend approach, sign enviously and say 'oh I wish I could have some of those'. (A topic for another blog perhaps, but I often think, yeah well, I wish I could have a real family one like you have...)

But tonight, as I watched my beautiful daughter on stage, singing her heart out with 500 odd other primary aged kids, I was fit to burst. As was her Nana, and her best friend, who I brought along to the concert.

There is nothing as uplifting as kids singing. In the words of a friend, it made me feel all 'thingy' - know what I mean?

feeling Pollyanna

Yesterday we all slept in. everyone had a bad nights sleep and so I was reluctant to get out of bed myself, let alone wake the children. It was almost luxurious, lying in bed on a weekday until 8.30 am.
Until, the reality of having to be out of the house and at school by 9 am hit.
On the upside, with only 25 minutes to do everything, I only had to shout once...

Last night there was a storm. Well, heavy rain, but when you're eight it feels like a storm...I was up. and down. and up. and down. we lost special doll at 4 am. cold feet at 5 am. finally back to sleep at 5.30.
On the upside, the kids were happy to mooch in bed until 8.30 again, so I got a cup of coffee at a reasonable temperature.

I got back the school photos this week - you know those ones we pay way way too much for and are invariably disappointed with, the bland blue background and slightly turned head of each child nicely contrasting their cheesy smiles and highlighting the grease stain on their shirt that you never notice in normal light? $70 for a pile of photos that really aren't a whole lot nicer than something I could take myself.
On the upside, that's Mother's Day, Fathers Day and birthdays for whanau taken care of for 2011.

This week I have worked my ass off (well not literally, as nice as that might be). It's !@#!! hard work juggling 2 jobs and 2 kids. And more work from my erstwhile job arrived last night too. My diary has appointment over appointment and I'm anticipating a $150 petrol bill coming up for next week.
On the upside, at least I can justify all the money I spent on those shoes last week...

i'm over it

i'd like to think that i can take some (humble, obviously) pride in the fact that i go with the positive over the negative in my blogs.
well, today, not feelin' so positive.
Actually, that's not quite true. Today, I am over the being less-than-positive and on the up of the bell curve again (or what ever graph would apply in this case), but i'm still slightly, just ever so slightly miffed and in the mood for a moan.

As some of my regular readers may know, I'm a sole parent. Actually that's a stupid term.. (I'm over it topic No.1!!)....I parent on my own in my own house for most of the time. But the children have an interested and committed Dad that I co-parent with. True he lives elsewhere, so the day to day grind is my pleasure alone, but on the big stuff, we share responsibility. So I'm on the look out for a new term...single parent? well, I'm single and I parent, but eeeww, sounds like a tragic '70's term. Solo-mum is even worse, sheesh at the risk of generalising (and I NEVER do that...), I'd sound like the woman who sits around in her trackies, drinking coffee an screeching 'don't you effing swear at me you little brat'! Co-parent? Nope, still not quite right...

Anyway, I'm over it. Perhaps I shall invent a new word, post it on Urban Dictionary, and save myself the trouble of writing a whole novel?

On to to Over it No 2. Slightly connected. Had a great night out with a bunch of friends last week. All pretty much fit those revolting labels: sole parent, part-time parent, single, formerly married, mid life (starting to feel nauseous....) We're all at similar life stages and yet in some ways in vastly different places. ANYWAY, great friends, great time, great conversation. I spend much of the evening in private self congratulation at my excellent choice of friends and, further, my ability to straddle the male/female friendship abyss.

Until....I reflect that in my excellence at maintaining a fairly sound bridge over said abyss I have also inadvertently collected a number of 'hot' friends. More than just the aforementioned group, and I'm beginning to think that outside of coupledom (could i say coup-hell or would that just make me sound cynical...) I'm batting a bit out of my league. You know exactly what I mean. The women who still look terrific after having had 2 kids. The guys who are in good shape and still have the gift of the gab. The ones who are really nice people but have the gift of exuding confidence, nay SEX APPEAL without being scary or slutty. All good right? Absolutely - most delighted to hang out with boys my friends think are cute and girls my friends think are hot. )And this is not a poor me post, just an observation on the 'liciousness' of my friends...)

But dang, nothing makes you feel old and unsexy like hanging out with the beautiful people!
I could fill a blog just on some of those moments...more than once i have been on a date and seen MY date spending more time checking out my friends/the other girls in the cafe than looking at me. It's more common for me to be asked to pass on someone elses phone number than to hand over my own!

Yeah yeah so I'm not 30 anymore - I know that! So when a friend 'helpfully' suggested I might need to just find uglier friends (yeah i can hear that collective sharp intake of breath from my readers even as I write!..and I know he (yes it was a he) as largely just being a smartass, I thought....I'm over it! Now it really is time for a tantrum... I want to be the hot friend! Just occasionally...let someone ask their friend for MY number!!!

put a band-aid on it!

I love it when I see a child instantly soothed by a sticking plaster. How can it be that the pain and humiliation of a scraped knee can be magically taken away just by putting something over it!

And often, for some mad reason, I delay this process with my children....No! you don't need a plaster, it won't help, there's no mark! look, there's not even any blood!

What am I thinking! If the process of putting a plaster where there is a hurt (real or perceived) actually works, why put it off? Why do I think that discussion, cuddles, distraction, are going to be any more effective?

Made me think...all this stuff about looking at our problems, facing reality, dealing with issues...do we really truly have to do this with every little thing? Is is ALWAYS the case that by ignoring something (ergo 'putting a plaster on it') will result in the problem never really truly going away?

Now I am all for addressing problems. I also agree that sometimes little things, if left unaddressed, can turn into big things. But all this stuff about discussing and dissecting every last little issue in our lives and relationships in order to keep them whole?

I think I have to disagree. Sometimes a plaster/bandaid/sticking plaster (depending on which country you are reading this in!) is just the right thing!

It instantly makes the problem out of sight...and maybe then out of mind. It covers up the yukky stuff, might even stop the bleeding. It protects it from the perils of nature and infection. It keeps it covered and allows us to go about our normal life without fear of disturbance. It allows the damage to heal slowly and quietly on it's own, without extra prodding and poking and investigation.

Maybe not so good for something that requires major medical intervention, but for the little problems, sounds like a GREAT idea to me!

When saying YES also means saying NO - ruminations on compromise

When I say YES to a relationship with a significant other, I am also saying NO to all that has gone before, and all that may have been ahead.

When I say YES to my children, I might also be saying NO to something I would rather have done.

When I say YES to more chocolate, I'm probably saying NO to the skinny jeans in the wardrobe.

When I say YES to a night on the town, I'm (happily!) saying NO to staying in with a movie.

When I say YES to a fabulous pair of new shoes, I'm also saying NO to reducing my credit card bill.

When I say YES to joining a committee I'm saying NO to another evening in front of the TV.

When I say YES to something I'm passionate about, I'm saying NO to the same old stuff I might have done last week.

When I say YES to the unknown I'm saying NO to boring, mundane and predictable.

facing the future and feeling the fear

A question appeared in my Facebook newsfeed this weekend -
What do you find more scary: feeling as though you are stuck with no options OR facing a clean slate with limitless choices?
It was fascinating reading the responses but what really amazed me was that I was the only person who said that I thought facing the clean slate was the scariest.
Maybe I didn't explain my answer well enough?
To me, being stuck with no options is not scary - it might be sad, frustrating, suffocating even, but there is no fear in it.
A clean slate, now that is scary! The unknown, that yet unseen - that is where the fear lies. And that fear is not even necessarily a bad thing - as I said in my own response, it's good to scare yourself a little every day! It might be exhilarating, imagining that future filled with as possibilities but is also scary moving from what you know (even if it's not where you want to be) to the unknown.

Above all though, the scariest and also the most exciting, the most risky, and the most potential rewarding, is to STAY stuck and do nothing, or worse, to face the future and not move into it.

getting naked

www.thesaurus.com:
Main Entry: naked
Part of Speech: adjective
Definition: without covering
Synonyms: au naturel, bald, bare, bare-skinned, bared, barren, defenseless, denuded, disrobed, divested, exposed, helpless, in birthday suit, in dishabille, in the altogether, in the buff, in the raw, leafless, natural, nude, open, peeled, raw, stark-naked, stripped, threadbare, unclad, unclothed, unconcealed, uncovered, undraped, undressed, unprotected, unveiled, vulnerable

Most of us seek intimacy, a way to be completely 'us' in front of, and with, another. To be, as it were, naked, and still safe in our vulnerability.
And so as we start new relationships, especially second time around (when we are so much older and wiser and more discerning!), the process of stripping away our outer layers to uncover the true inner self begins.
We start by facing each other (or maybe even staying side by side and taking cautious glances. Fully dressed, possibly with even more on than we would normally wear. Slowly, piece by piece we remove parts of our coverings.
Occasionally it happens too fast - one, or both, get naked way to quick - it's fun, sometimes, but is often the quickest route to failure. Vulnerability takes time!
Sometimes we 'take something off' only to find it makes us too uncomfortable, or disquiets the other person, and we either put it back on(and quickly!) or find our selves in a place of having to confront a piece of ourselves, or them, that isn't quite as pretty as it looked covered up (or maybe it's more beautiful than we even imagine - thats the risk!).
Slowly slowly, we become more and more naked and authentic and real. Sometimes what we discover about ourselves leads us to get dressed again! Sometimes the view in front of us is not the one we expected or wanted.

But, with some time, and luck, and patience, and restraint, we can find ourselves together, facing each other, naked and unashamed.

Surely that is the path to true intimacy.





NB a wonderful evening spent with a gorgeous friend who has recently embarked on an exciting new relationship. the conversation turned, as oft it does, to how those of us on the 'second time round' approach new partnering, how our old baggage always seems to be there just waiting to be tripped over, how much more exacting, cynical, picky (read choosy!), realistic we are. he used the analogy of getting undressed in front of your beloved...this blog is my version of our conversation - I unashamedly steal his premise and turn it into my own soliloquy.

pork scratchings

No, not an obscure title to lure the reader to it...actually,yes, that's what I want to talk about today!
one of my greatest discoveries when living in the UK (specifically when visiting Warwickshire, home of the scratching) was this delectable morsel of crispy fat and salt...
and though I have sampled some of the offerings available in NZ, they are just NOT THE SAME!!!

So each week, I hopefully scan the pork section in the butchery, in vain, for a big sheet of pork skin that I can turn into my own delicious wee heart-attacks in a mouthful...

I have the recipe, the will, the time...and no pig...can anyone enlighten me as to where I might be able to get some crackling?

in praise of friendship

Friendship is an amazing thing to me. We tend to save our best for our friends I think. We might nag or criticise a partner, parent, child or sibling, but almost never a friend. We try to be on time for them, pick out thoughtful gifts for them , treat their children well, remember to ask them how they are (and really mean it...).

Friends are there for you in a crisis and can see you at your worst and still tell you you're fabulous.
They are there to cheer you on at your best, too of course.

Some are lifelong, some are for a season, some are people we might never even meet. The written word, even by way of an online conversation is such a great way to get to know another person. It's an opportunity to be just that TINY bit more honest that you might be in 'real life' I think! Often one of my favourite times of the day, is late at night, when it seems the whole world is asleep, and a friend 'pops in' on skype to chat...confidences can be exchanged, advice dispense (and received!) troubles shared, souls bared.

Much the same with a cup of great coffee, a glass of wine or a particularly delicious piece of chocolate cake - so much better shared with a special friend.

I believe that friendships should be, on the whole, energising not exhausting. that is someone is treating me shabbily they are not really a friend and certainly do not deserve my friendship.

I spent last weekend with 5 of my closest friends - 6 women, 1 house at the beach, an unmentionable amount of chocolate and more laughs than i could count.
It's a special break for us, no kids or significant others, just enjoying each others company - sharing the odd secret or two - and no schedules or plans to keep.


We can, and should delight in our friends company, and them in ours. Now, where is that cake...

the effing rubbish on TV

Last night I turned the TV on...now that's a rare event in itself...but there it is. It was 7.45 - not exactly adult viewing time, and the programme on offer was Hells Kitchen. The ironing was beckoning...ah I thought, a cooking programme, perfect brainless viewing for that!

Well, let me tell you that had to be possibly the most offensive thing I have ever watched. The language, well it was Gordon Ramsay, so I was expecting some effing and blinding, but seriously? An hour of one man blaspheming, swearing and shouting personal abuse at a group of adults who cowtowed to him, watching them scurry to his attention, getting thrown out of the kitchen...it was hideous. I found myself watching, compelled to see if it could actually get any worse - and it did. A party, drunk and naked chefs (eeewww), big hangovers, frequent announcements by the contestants of their need to 'go to the bathroom'.

I seriously cannot beleive that such humiliating and intimidating behaviour is allowed to be screened on TV. I'm considering writing to the broadcasting tribunal - their requirement is that a programme could be deemed 'in breach of good taste and decency'. In my view, verbal and emotional abuse, even knowing it has been edited for 'viewing pleasure' is beyond that particularl guideline.

NOw I am no prude, but if that's what is considered entertainment, I'm glad my television is no longer available to the children. And I sure won't be switching it on for myself at 7.30 on a Tuesday night any time soon.

a place to call my own

a discussion with one of my oldest and closest friends this weekend was inspiration for this weeks blog.

Many people comment how lucky i am to have my own house, and they're right. All that space! just for you! no other adult messing it up!
And yes, that's true too i suppose.
There's this common misnomer though, that the house is the womans domain, her space to do as she pleases. That as long as men have their shed/garage/cave, all will be well.

But in my house, and i suspect many other houses, the truth is that the house is not REALLY my space at all. it's a collective family space - let's face it, it's a rare day that i get to use the bathroom on my own, let alone have any place in the house that i can truly call my own. My wardrobe, possibly, but even then, No 1 Daughter has a fascination with what lies beyond it's doors (not a whole lot of excitement, just for the record). The TV is out of the lounge and is now poked in a corner in my bedroom, the only space it could go, so most days the children get a little time in front of that, sprawled on my bed or floor.
The kitchen - well that's carte blanche for hungry people, the lounge belongs to all of us.
They have their own rooms, and whilst i am welcome, of course, there is no doubt that this is 'their space' not mine. Ditto, the garden resplendent with jungle gym and tramp.
My office - well hardly the space i want to call my own, and it also doubles as a second living space.
So what is left?
Well, as i see it - the last vestige of privacy for women has to be...
their handbags!
my children have been brought up to believe that there is a crocodile living in the bottom of mine who will snap at their fingers if they so much as dip a hand in. (and, dear readers, there is no need to email me about telling lies to children...if you're a woman you'll be writing this idea down, if you're a man, you're just not gonna care about lies like this...)
So, the things i DONT want my children to touch (and there are few, but that's not the point), live in my handbag. The camera, my miniature folddown umbrella - which holds fascination for the kids - my purse and cellphone. A crossword book (why oh why do they insist on filling in the gaps if it's left lying about). hot hot hot peppermints. not much else really. but it's MY space, mine mine mine....

sermon at the mount

I was asked to speak at church last Sunday. It's Lent, and the theme was, kind of, along the lines of dying to one's old 'self'.
This is what I had to say.

Early this week my Mum brought a branch of Swan plant, complete with half a dozen cute little caterpillars. They were hungry, the branch died within a day or two, but we successfully migrated the caterpillars to the huge plant on my boundary, which my neighbour has been nurturing for some months.
It fascinates me, this caterpillar/chrysalis/butterfly process. But one thing that occurred to me, is that it might be interesting to look at this from the caterpillars point of view, rather than as an onlooker.
So, the caterpillar, as he grows, is compelled to eat, in fact, this is pretty much all he does...eat, and eat and eat. ideally good and healthy swan plant, but if he's desperate he'll take sugar water, or even pumpkin. he doesn't know (we assume) what's going to happen to him. but he gets fatter and fatter, then starts to build his house. he disappears inside for 2 weeks, essentially dead to the world - in fact in grave danger as wasps can easily destroy him after all this time.
Eventually, matured, he breaks from the chrysalis and is the 'beautiful butterfly'. But just for a minute, remember that this caterpillar probably doesn't know he's a butterfly. he most certainly doesn't know he's beautiful! he just gets on, doing what butterflies do, making eggs to create new caterpillars. A female butterfly can lay 1000 eggs - what a geneology. A male butterfly gets a 6 week window to fertilise those eggs, and then his number is up.
It is the people around him that get to enjoy his transformation. They get to say, wow, how amazing that something that looked like THAT now looks like THIS...and 'we thought it was a cute caterpillar, but how much more attractive he is as a butterfly - or even how DIFFERENT does this creature look!
my message is this - the process of transformation can be slow, it might mean stuffing ourselves full of things we love until we can't even move...
it could mean having to endure things we don't like that much, or aren't that good for us.
it might be a wonderful experience that we get to see and feel. but it might happen outside of our control and senses.
it might mean hibernating for a while.
we might go through that transformation and out the other side and not even notice it ourselves - it is the onlooker that can see the difference between the then and the now.
In fact, there's a good chance we really won't know how much we've changed!

it is our job to listen to our instincts, do the things we feel driven to do, and in that process, we might, we just might, avoid the wasps and become a butterfly.

boundaries

imagine there are 4 children playing in a garden. There's a fence around the edges.

The first child looks around at what there is to do. Sees the fence. looks at it briefly and goes back to the task of playing. the second sees the fence, walks around the perimeter of the garden, and goes back to play. The third looks up, goes over to the fence, looks for a gate, tries to peep over the fence, checks how sturdy it is, then goes back to the game.

The fourth, somewhat bored with the play, goes over to the fence. Kicks it to see how strong it is. jumps up at it. gets frustrated - ever glancing back at the game but keen to know what lies beyond. body slams the fence. shouts in frustration. returns, resigned, to the game.

Which kid lives in your house?
How strong is your fence?

the double edged sword of technology

Some months ago I was introduced to Google calendar. I was sceptical - I'm organised, efficient, with a relatively good memory, and a perfectly adequate calendar hanging on the wall (in the same place for the past 5 years in fact). Why did i need an electronic calendar? just more information to remember to input right? just more reminders and emails to wade through each morning surely?

Well, because I am so openminded and willing to try new things (;)), I gave it a go. Now, a year down the track, I seriously don't know what I would do with out it. Everything I do is on there - the hours I put into my jobs, the pickups and drop offs for school, dancing, visits to Dad, play dates, sleepovers, my hobbies, church and community commitments, my dance classes! I find now i've turned into one of those people that says, 'oh the 15th? eerm, let me check my diary and get back to you...'. It's brilliant!

But the one thing that worries me...have I - have we all - become too reliant on technology? Sure, i would remember MOST of the things on each days schedule, but certainly not all. And I love being able to input something 3 or 6 or more weeks (or months) away and then be able to put it out of my mind until much closer to the time. Add on my mobile phone, the only place i keep easily retrieveable contact information. Places like Facebook where I can catch up on my friends comings and goings. Email. Blog feeds. Twitter. TradeMe to buy anything I want. iTunes and the MP3 player. Live updates on world events on the internet.

downside: I have a pile of books beside the bed, largely unread. Can't remember the last time I read a newspaper from front to back. I hardly watch the TV (oh...that's good, right!).

upside: Both of my main jobs are done largely via email and telephone which affords me the luxury of working from home, at any time of the day or night, to fit around kids. I compose the Village Voice using email, send it off via email for formatting and get it back as a finished publisher document. so so easy. The time i spend with 'real people' is real time - meaningful conversation with friends, fun with the children, being in the outdoors, enjoying music.

Conclusion - reliant? yes. addicted?..well maybe. balanced...yes for sure.
converted? absolutely!

a hard days night

a tough 10 ten days in this house is almost over. The first few days after the dancing Queen had her tonsils out were seductively - and deceivingly as it turns out - easy. the past few days have been..well, !@#@!!! hard work!



we've had a really nice few days today - dropping the engineer off at school, and collecting him together, but spending each day either going on little outings, visits or mooching about at home. DQ has helped me sort cupboards and drawers as well as spending time converting her bedroom to a beauty salon.



As her throat started to heal, she started getting a fair amount of pain and for a child already prone to 'larger than life' responses, we are all enjoying the benefit of the healing process. this has resulted in her seeking undivided attention (loudly and vociferously), large doses of pamol, brufen, and rescue remedy - and everything just seems that bit harder than normal.

i find myself in the 'bad mother camp' more often than i would like...often getting impatient when i should be dispensing large amounts of sympathy, and also feeling stressed as the work in my office piles up by the day. she is getting bored, i am getting frustrated at the slow healing process, we are probably both tiring about of each others company!



her balance has been off (presume this is as a result of all the painkillers, as well as recurrent earache) and so she's had a number of bumps, scrapes and near misses. also, with it being uncomfortable to swallow, her food and drink intake is lower than it ought to be - bringing the added pleasure of low blood sugar (although interestingly has no problem with ice cream, chocolate and lemonade!)

then, just round off the week nicely, she fell off the new jungle gym - well you'd think the roof of the world had caved in. her arm is sprained (but not broken) but is miraculously flexible when required for altercations with younger brother...



I love my children beyond measure but my parenting love tank is getting a bit depleted this week!!!



whew....whoever said parenting full time was the easy option clearly never had kids....

random questions

50 Random Questions

1. Where were you 3 hours ago?

in the bath

2. Who are you in love with?

not telling

3. Have you ever eaten a crayon?

eeewww!

4. Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

my jarmies

5. When is the last time you went to the mall?

more than two weeks ago

6. Are you wearing socks right now?

nope

7. Do you have a car worth over $2,000?

I do

8. When was the last time you drove out of town?

this afternoon, to pick up the new jungle gym

9. Have you been to the movies in the last 5 days?

no, but i did go 10 days ago, to the Kings Speech

10. Are you hot?

only because I have a winter duvet on the bed

11. What was the last thing you had to drink?

soda water. just now.

12. What are you wearing right now?

the pink jarmies referred to in question 4

13. Do you wash your car or let the car wash do it?

we share

14. Last food that you ate?

a home made vietnamese spring roll.  yum!

15. Where were you last week at this time?

the same place I am now

16. Have you bought any clothing items in the last week?

oh yes.  gorgeous shoes!

17. When is the last time you ran?

today - across the road to the shop for an icecream for my daughter

18. What's the last sporting event you watched?

my son's swimming on Friday

19. What is your favorite animal?

Giraffe - they just seem so....IMPLAUSIBLE!

20. Your dream vacation?

Alaska, Cuba, Greenland

21. Last person's house you were in?

my friend's.  which used to be my house once.

22. Worst injury you've ever had?

2003 - arm broken in 3 places....slipped over when i bent to pick up my handbag...in the house mentioned above!

23. Have you been in love?

oh yes...delicious!

24. Do you miss anyone right now?

I do

25. Last play you saw?

The Little Red Hen....School production!

26. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex?

It's no secret....my charm and wit speak for themselves (especially when paired with my humility)

27. What are your plans for tonight?

the night is almost done

28. Who is the last person you sent a MySpace message or comment?

MySpace? how old do you think I am!

29. Next trip you are going to take?

Nelson at Queens Birthday, well that's the plan

30. Ever go to camp?

oh so many times

31. Were you an honor roll student in school?

I wish

32. What do you want to know about the future?

Will I be pretty? Will I be rich? Que Sera' sera'

33. Are you wearing any perfume or cologne?

not right now

34. Are you due sometime this year for a doctor's visit?

next month

35. Where is your best friend?

too far away

36. How is your best friend?

awesome!

37. Do you have a tan?

somewhat

38. What are you listening to right now?

TV - some odd Australian drama

39. Do you collect anything?

words

40. Who is the biggest gossiper you know?

I couldn't possibly tell you

41. Last time you got stopped by a cop or pulled over?

speeding ticket 2 years ago (late for church!)

42. Have you ever drank your soda from a straw?

often

43. What does your last text message say?

Came to see you but no one was home

44. Do you like hot sauce?

ick, no

45. Last time you took a shower?

3 days ago (I bathe....)

46. Do you need to do laundry?

desperately

47. What is your heritage?

Proud and multinational

48. Are you someone's best friend?

Am hugely happy and priviledged to say yes!

49. Are you rich?

in spirit, healthy and happiness

50. What were you doing at 12AM last night?

rare for me, i was asleep

Top Credit Repair

Best MySpace Quizzes and Surveys

the pleasure in small things

As some will know, 8 year old daughter had her tonsils out on Wednesday.  She's had a remarkable recovery and being a pretty amazing patient but I am also being fairly careful about how much she's doing in a day (this kid is the energiser bunny even on a bad day).
So for the past few days we have had lots of down time, and I've had to be a bit creative about how to fill it - so as not to get to dinner time and have spent half the day in front of a DVD.

We have played snakes n ladders, she 'taught' me to play UNO.  We've set up a beauty spa in the bedroom, complete with a counter and booking diary at the door (it cost me $2 for nail polish!).  We've walked to the shop in the rain...we've danced in the lounge...snuck chocolate from the pantry....read stories, written poems...all simple things but such pleasure to enjoy each others company.  A couple of outings - the ubiquitous trip to the $2 shop, a fluffy at a cafe, the dvd store for emergency rations....to and from school (how strange having a companion to pick up youngest child!)...

and today my brother visited and I made pancakes which we devoured straight from the pan, dripping in maple syrup....

Even the pouring wet weather has not been enough to 'dampen spirits'.  Umbrellas truly are beautiful pieces of technology!

brain dumping

I was told recently that I had far too much in my head...that if I concentrated on using my legs and feet more, that the energy in my body would move around, and that as a result I might be calmer and thus sleep better.
Apparantly I was putting way too much energy into what was coming out my mouth and not enough into what was coming out of other parts of my body....(well that's what she said....!)
At the time, I must have looked pretty blank - this was about 3 weeks ago, and it is only now on reflection that I wonder if there might have been (just a tiny tiny tiny....) bit of truth in there.  For sure since making a concerted effort to get to Ceroc every week, and ride my bike twice a week, I am rather more tired than I was, as the day ends.  I have had quite a few late nights but I'm coping pretty well, not waking up feeling (completely) wrecked!
When I got home from my night out on Saturday I was on a total high - for sure I felt I was in a place where I was at my sparkliest happiest best - that's good, right!?!?  There's truth in the maxim that to start moving forward we should go back and look (not reside!) at the place where we were once the happiest.

Always a high energy person, I didn't really understand what she meant (actually I'm not sure I do yet) but I DO understand that the energy I have can be directed in lots of different ways.
A friend observed recently that I appeared to be pretty happy with my life - yes that's true...I really am, it's just about how I want it to be (but not quite...)

The other side of this, is that in a - somewhat feeble - attempt to SHUT UP, there's stil a whole lot of random stuff bouncing around in my head....
like:
things in conversation that profoundly irritate me....people constantly retracking their statements with  'in saying that'......mispronunciation: somethink, ragland, proberly...being called Sue (you have been warned!)
bad spelling - cappuccino spelt wrong (why do kiwi cafes do this!); businesses that end their namez in z; kidz namez with stoopid spelling like Aiymee
daily frustrations....why can't I get i-tunes properly downloaded on my computer; why does coffee smell so much better than it actually tastes; why does it take the kids an hour just to get dressed and drink a glass of milk
the neverending to do list that seems to get longer not shorter - what is that about? I seem to be so much better at human doing than human being!
the continuing wrestling with big questions - why am i here, what is my mission?, what do i believe about the stuff that's bigger than my own life?

and the good stuff - time with friends and families, my work and interests, fond memories that just pop into my head without good reason, although often  prompted by a certain smell or sound (my two strongest senses) - a song, a scent, sigh I'm there!

the limbo of helplessness

I doubt there is a person in NZ, or a NZ'er abroad for that matter, that hasn't been personally affected in some small, or big, way by the Christchurch earthquakes.
I wonder though, does everyone feel a sense of helplessness, or are we largely just getting on with life, not really fully understanding - or wanting to -  the impact of it all? and is it in fact 'right' to go into mourning for this when there is so much life to be lived to the full right here in our own existences.
Do I, as a matter of respect, curtail some of my plans, or do I continue to live as I did yesterday and planned to tomorrow?  Do I stay glued to the TV, keeping up with the news but also somehow compulsively drawn to the devastation, or just try to put it at the back of my mind and simply get on with the every day?

How can I actually help? Logging on to websites, listening to the updates,  doesn't really cut it.  Does giving money, even small amounts really make a difference?

The organisations I work for,  both in the not-for-profit sector, both contributing directly to the welfare and (largely mental) health of families in Canterbury have given me some direction, i've contributed to some funds, made some phone calls, but is it enough...?

I do what I am able with the resources I have....and choose to be glad and thankful for my life here in my little town and all the blessings that go with it...

freestyle

a few days ago i was complaining about being bored.  Later,  it occurred to me that it wasn't so much boredom, as an over abundance of stuff that is all about other people and nothing that was actually nurturing my own soul.  (let's not count reading books and doing crosswords and other home based stuff in here....although the Shelfari bookshelf down there suggests i spend a fair amount of time doing both!).

Now, don't get me wrong, I love doing things for and with other people, and especially with friends and family.  but what i want is something that's MINE, all mine and won't require me to meet a deadline, supervise a child, clean up someone or something...isn't being done with an ulterior motive (i should do this, it's good for the brain/heart/fitness)...isn't the thing squeezed into the 11 pm and I can't sleep spot....something creative, that encompasses all I love...maybe with new people...maybe in the evening...maybe something I might even have to get a little dressed up for...

something to fill my heart with joy! that's what i needed!

Well sounds like a tall order, right?  And, I thought I was pretty smart, so I simply can't believe it has taken me SO LONG to get back into my boogie shoes.
not the girls night out, leaping about to Dancing Queen kind of shoes (although I love that too....) but real, energetic, dance your socks off couple dancing...
I tried Zumba, it was good but not quite there.  I did Jazz, much the same.  The last partner-y type lessons I took were Irish ceili dancing (a kind of square dancing i guess) which I also just loved and were a great laugh although I don't think I had much natural talent in spite of my heritage!
Before that it was probably (dark recesses!)  lambada...oh those really WERE the days!
ANYWAY, if you saw my FB profile you'll know, I went back!  This time to Ceroc and I have to say it was brilliant...awesome teachers, great music and I think I did ok for a beginner (no one seemed to be limping after dancing with me...).It was run by addiction dance - just to give 'em a plug!.
I knew I was in the right place when the first two songs played were Usher - More, and Cry to Me from Dirty Dancing.
Tonight I hosted a freestyle party in the lounge - me and the children, some Black Eyed Peas...Jennifer Lopez (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=am6iCuPQIDQ)....Snap! (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCAqao4pScQ)...awesome!
Can't wait for next time....

love languages

I went to a work conference on Friday and we talked of the Love Languages.  I work with preschoolers so it's really relevant. (for those who aren't familiar: http://www.5lovelanguages.com/).  A lot of parents and carers aren't that comfortable, or even confident with using touch with their kids, and mainly music is the perfect forum to introduce this.  The programme is popping up all over the world so it's working!

I had a thought...well actually I've had it before...
What if we speak more than one language - that is, perhaps the way we GIVE love is not necessarily the way we want to receive it?  For example, my daughter's primary love language, as in how she like to receive love, and feel validated etc, is through quality time and gift giving.  But in giving love, she tends to go with Words of Affirmation, and to a lesser degree, gift giving.  My son is less complex (perhaps that's a boy thing), it's touch first and gifts second.
Me? Well  I'm definitely not that good at the words, except with the children, and tend to gravitate towards quality time and gifts....I certainly think spending time with people is the best way to affirm them (show love?), and I do spend a lot of time thinking about the gifts I give.  But as far as getting gifts - well it's nice, but i'm as happy with the $2 shop thing as the fancy stuff, and grand gestures don't really do a lot for me.  A well timed txt, a phone call, a drop by visit, these I love receiving.
It takes a huge amount of trust for me to really get into the 'touch' stuff (although I may appear a very touchy feely kind of person) - but give it to me and I'll really love you for it. And it's kind of like chocolate, the more I eat the more I want!  Similarly, I really appreciate acts of service but am better at giving that receiving!

Anyone need a hug?

hang on a minute!!!!

how can it be that despite being the busiest i've ever been (how is THAT even possible when i thought the same through last year....) - 3 jobs, two kids at school, the paper, mainly music, drama lessons, zumba, biking, playdates for kids, homegroup for the grownups, childcare for friends, girls nights, family nights, the community centre (hurrah passed that on today), learning new skills, redecorating...blah blah blah...and i still feel like....well like there's something missing?

and don't be thinking this is about the faith crisis either...it's just that I'm, well, I'm kind of bored. life is awesome, i couldn't ask for more, SHOULDn't ask for more, and yet I am. There's been one or two sparks of excitement for me of late and I realise I want MORE! How to articulate that? Don't know...don't want to really, but I have this feeling like I'm on the cusp of something exciting - it's just, barely, out of reach, out of sight, but I know it's there. Kind of like wanting some adventure or risk - and yet I am not a risk taker (any more!), barely into adventure in fact...

The wise friends advice varies from...be satisfied with what you have - to, set a goal! - to, visualise your new future! Hmmm, not sure which of those fits best!

So, out has come the journal - you know the place where one can write all the stuff that doesn't belong in the public forum of the internet. Hard questions, harder answers.

The internet, while I'm on the subject...what a strange place it brings us to. False intimacy, forced intimacy, projected intimacy with 'virtual' strangers - our close friends seem, somehow further away, or at least at a safe distance, and our new friends, or distant 'friends' become the ones who know the minutiae of our lives. A parallel existence, not altogether comfortable and yet we slip in and out of it more easily that the homes of the people we know best.

lawn bowls

I sat in church this morning, looked around (a lot), mind wandered (a lot) and I wondered (quite a lot)...why am I here?

My motivation was that the new Vicar was preaching - I wanted to meet him since I kind of work for him now. It was just the Dancing Queen and I, since the little engineer had a better offer with his best mate at the Baptist church.

A couple celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary - instead of sharing 'the love' i felt just a wave of sadness - think it rather unlikely i will get to do the same, and whilst this is not something i dwell on i still have moments of 'sad' about it.

There was the usual talk about seeking Gods forgiveness for our wrongs - really? I thought...do I really truly think I need forgiveness? Jury is still out on that but I suspect my view on God is changing and shifting.

So, I posted on Facebook - as you'll know if you found this blog through there...and got an interesting response, comparing going to church with attending any other club.

it was a good analogy in some ways, although apart from the most devout of lawn bowls players, I suspect few people would get the comparison of religion (if i can dare call Christianity that) and a bowling club.

But, it got me thinking. What shape is God for me? I think perhaps not the form I have always just accepted - or gone along with. I'm not convinced that God (in the way we give him human characteristics to understand him) actually gives much of a damn about our day to day lives. I suspect He is rather indifferent in fact - i am almost nervous of writing this! - with far bigger fish to fry (or is that far less on his mind) that the trivia that fills most of our lives.

So, where to from here? Well it's a big question for me. I work in Ministry, paid ministry, which has at it's core the fundamentals of Christian belief - Jesus, sin, heaven and hell...so if I start to move away from those beliefs, can I in all honesty keep working for an organisation that is founded on them?

I doubt God cares either way - but would my boss?

stuff it

Lots of conversations to be had at my place recently about 'stuff'. the stuff that lives in cupboards for just in case i need it...or that will come in handy....the stuff that accumulates in the wardrobes of children - every sticker/birthday invitation/christmas cracker prize/macdonalds toy since 2005....the condiments in the pantry bought for a special occasion...the clothes bought on sale and never worn...the trademe bargains of the year....the 3 dozen towels in the airing cupboard...oldt ehcnology, new technology, non-technology.

I have a theory - you knew I would! - that OFTEN we surround ourselves with stuff because we have 'stuff' that we haven't worked through on the inside.....stuff it! we think, i deserve this thing, it will make me happy. or....man i have lots of stuff, let's look at this stuff and move it around and then i'll have a bit of room for some more stuff....Until we reach a position of, eek! i have so much STUFF i don't know where to start to get rid of it...so i'll just stuff this new thing in here with this other stuff...

for those that have visited my house, you'll know that i am most definitely a less is more person. and yet even i constantly have a box on the go for excess stuff. few weeks would go by that i'm not delivering clothes to an opshop, or poking something else in the rubbish bin, or listing another piece of something on trademe.

So, due to popular demand, here's my tools for dealing with stuff....

1. start thinking about the big stuff...what's going on for you? do you feel overwhelmed by your stuff? is it head stuff, heart stuff, or things that clutter your house (I bet there's a bit of each in there)

2. decide on one thing, one room, one issue and start there. eg stuff going on for you about how you feel about the way you look? then start with your wardrobe - or if that's too scary, your makeup bag. or, if you often stress about what you eat, start with the pantry. if you nag your kids heaps about cleaning up their own messes, start with their room.

3. be organised. get banana boxes from the supermarket. these are better than bags because as you're putting things in them you can still see it (I'm not that mean, there's always room to change you mind with this system). get 4 boxes. put labels on them:

a. chuck b. give away c. mend/repair d. might come in handy one day but doesn't need to live in this particular space - hereon called the mcih box

4. set time aside for this. allow 2 hours for first cull. ideally when there's noone else around so you're not being influenced by kids or significant others in your decisions. they'll get their say at a later date.

5. pick your startpoint (see above). put the boxes out and get going. go with first instinct and don't dither (time for that later). when the space is sorted it will look awesome and you'll probably have bulging boxes.

6. take the boxes to another location (so you're not tempted to put everything back straight away). now is the time to have another (quick) look over. get rid of the chuck box into the bin straight away. put the give away box aside to sort through for appropriate recipients. look at the mend and repair - how long have those things been broken? 6 months or more? will repair actually make the thing serviceable? is it going to cost anything - in $$ - to achieve this? would in fact, it be better to chuck?

finally the mcih box....how long have you been mcihing this? more than 6 months? could you buy this thing at a future date if you REALLY needed it? could it be recycled into something else? or be mcih for someone else? would it in fact, be better to chuck?

7. Put the broken/repair box and the mcih box lids on. and put those boxes far far away from your living spaces - perhaps the garage? add to them as required but do not look at them otherwise for at least 3 months. i bet you forget about them. i bet the kids don't ask for the broken thing. i bet not one thing comes in handy.... when those boxes are full...chuck em....

i do this about twice a year. it now takes me less than a day to do the whole house. the benenfits are huge....

- less stuff to move

- less stuff to clean

- less stuff to nag the kids about cleaning up

- spend way less money as i don't want more stuff anymore

- more headspace to deal with the important stuff

as if by osmosis my children get the stuff idea...they are both happy to take part in a stuff-it session.

I made $400 on trademe last month, selling my stuff

i have so much more energy for the stuff that matters....