Monday, November 29, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
My little garden.
Okay, here's the confession: I am blogging at half past ten at night because I just found His Majesty's baseball whites laying in a stinky pile on the laundry floor, and they need to be pristine again (not rancid and orange dust stained) by the morning. So, forgetting that tomorrow is 'Hell Sunday' for Nine (a show I am appearing in) and that I will probably go crazy with exhaustion, I am waiting up to finish the washing. His Majesty is, of course, off being a social butterfly somewhere, while I am in my strawberry pyjamas, bleaching the whites.
No, I complain again! Honestly, I chose to stay in tonight. We went out to a show with friends last night baby-free. Going out for me these days includes trying to eat my body weight in cheese, drinking way too much, enjoying insulting someone's girlfriend (she was being "not-very-nice"), and falling asleep in the car on the way home to crawl into bed like the living dead before 12 midnight. Had my fill of young and single this week? Hell yes I have!
Today the weather in the afternoon was particularly fine. Ava and I were putting in some beautiful heirloom tomatoes that we had luckily found at the shop, and weeding the various parts of the garden, when I was amazed at my own brilliance. Modest, I know. My garden is particularly wonderful. When we moved in, 6 months ago, it was mulch and weeds, and the owners were really happy for it to stay that way, and over the moon that I asked if I could put some veggies in.
6 months on and I have:
Parsley, Mint, Oregano, Thyme, Basil, Chives, Garlic Chives.
Oranges and Lemons (pre-existing, but still very useful!)
Silverbeet and Kale
Beetroot
Capsicum
Corn
Butternut Pumpkins
Onions
Tomatoes
Carrots
Strawberries and
Potatoes growing nice, big fat vegetables for my little family.
At the moment we are harvesting big, fat, juicy beets, BIG, waxy, royal blue potatoes and every couple of days another strawberry turns red and the girls ask if they can eat it. It makes me so proud I could almost burst.
The biggest things that has surprised me is that it has taken very little effort for so much from my back garden. Of course, my back garden is extreme, in the fact that it is all veggies. There were very few plants when we moved in, just garden beds full of mulch. The soil was fairly virgin, as the previous owners had not cared too much for the gardening. (Although, word is, that the hydroponics inside were amazing!) So, for the first month, we used roundup to kill the remaining weeds, and then let the soil rest, added veggies, loads of seasol and that was it!
For dinner we had a massive kale and facon quiche, and it tasted beautiful. (Yes, facon = fake bacon. It's not a typo.) Thank you, garden! After the watering the veggies, Ava and I ate some strawberries off the bush and pulled up some sweet baby carrots to nibble on. We cleaned up the lemons that had fallen off the tree and thought about going hunting for more potatoes (too dirty...) before we headed inside for our bath.
Growing your own vegetables saves money, is healthier, is cheap, easy, relaxing and a great learning experience for kids. Honestly, I am so impressed with myself, I could just pop. I don't know why more people don't do it.
No, I complain again! Honestly, I chose to stay in tonight. We went out to a show with friends last night baby-free. Going out for me these days includes trying to eat my body weight in cheese, drinking way too much, enjoying insulting someone's girlfriend (she was being "not-very-nice"), and falling asleep in the car on the way home to crawl into bed like the living dead before 12 midnight. Had my fill of young and single this week? Hell yes I have!
Today the weather in the afternoon was particularly fine. Ava and I were putting in some beautiful heirloom tomatoes that we had luckily found at the shop, and weeding the various parts of the garden, when I was amazed at my own brilliance. Modest, I know. My garden is particularly wonderful. When we moved in, 6 months ago, it was mulch and weeds, and the owners were really happy for it to stay that way, and over the moon that I asked if I could put some veggies in.
6 months on and I have:
Parsley, Mint, Oregano, Thyme, Basil, Chives, Garlic Chives.
Oranges and Lemons (pre-existing, but still very useful!)
Silverbeet and Kale
Beetroot
Capsicum
Corn
Butternut Pumpkins
Onions
Tomatoes
Carrots
Strawberries and
Potatoes growing nice, big fat vegetables for my little family.
At the moment we are harvesting big, fat, juicy beets, BIG, waxy, royal blue potatoes and every couple of days another strawberry turns red and the girls ask if they can eat it. It makes me so proud I could almost burst.
The biggest things that has surprised me is that it has taken very little effort for so much from my back garden. Of course, my back garden is extreme, in the fact that it is all veggies. There were very few plants when we moved in, just garden beds full of mulch. The soil was fairly virgin, as the previous owners had not cared too much for the gardening. (Although, word is, that the hydroponics inside were amazing!) So, for the first month, we used roundup to kill the remaining weeds, and then let the soil rest, added veggies, loads of seasol and that was it!
For dinner we had a massive kale and facon quiche, and it tasted beautiful. (Yes, facon = fake bacon. It's not a typo.) Thank you, garden! After the watering the veggies, Ava and I ate some strawberries off the bush and pulled up some sweet baby carrots to nibble on. We cleaned up the lemons that had fallen off the tree and thought about going hunting for more potatoes (too dirty...) before we headed inside for our bath.
Growing your own vegetables saves money, is healthier, is cheap, easy, relaxing and a great learning experience for kids. Honestly, I am so impressed with myself, I could just pop. I don't know why more people don't do it.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Not winge.blog.com
Okay, I have to blog about something light and fluffy today, because I don't like moaning away all the time.
Here are 10 things that are very unique to me:
1. I can't touch peaches or any other furry fruit without visibly shuddering and my blood turning to ice. It's something about the texture that I just can't stand. I also can't walk barefoot on cheap, synthetic carpet.
2. I have almost no little toe nail. My toes are so little. (Wish my body was as small!)
3. I prefer my hair very, very short. Think Halle Berry's pixie cut. Unfortunately, men don't seem to share the same appreciation for elven looks as I do. *Sigh* one day, hair, you and I will be re-united!
4. I love Twilight. (There, I said it) It's like vampiric emotional porn. Sooooo good.
5. I only blog on days I have Ava. Seems silly right? Why not blog when she is at her Daddy's house and you have peace and quiet. Truth is, I am not inspired to write when she is not around. I just kind of exist in a daze until she comes back every Saturday morning.
6. I think Muzz Buzz Armadale have had to put on more staff, just because of me. Oooops.
7. I have quite nice teeth.
8. Spelling and grammatical errors bug me. A lot. I don't think I could teach English because the dribble that erupts from some student's pens would have me going cuckoo faster than you can say "Uuuuhhhhh, Dunno."
9. Being late stresses me out to the point of panic attacks. I get very anxious if we are going to run late.
10. I don't want to die with any regrets or any unfinished business. I tend to attack problems (relationship and otherwise) like a rhinoceros, beating my head against it until it is all finished and threshed out. Sometimes this causes problems.
11. Hey, you get a bonus one!
I have been through some fairly shitty things in my life. I have had amazing highs and terrible lows. I have loved ferociously, hated passionately, fought, cried, damaged myself, hurt others, compromised my values, been too self righteous and beyond reproach, embraced new adventures with tenacity bordering on lunacy and spent whole days achieving nothing.
All of these things, every singular moment in my life with equal importance to both good and bad, has led to his moment, sitting here, and right now, I am supremely, blissfully, wonderfully happy with my life.
So, I can't have done too badly.
Here are 10 things that are very unique to me:
1. I can't touch peaches or any other furry fruit without visibly shuddering and my blood turning to ice. It's something about the texture that I just can't stand. I also can't walk barefoot on cheap, synthetic carpet.
2. I have almost no little toe nail. My toes are so little. (Wish my body was as small!)
3. I prefer my hair very, very short. Think Halle Berry's pixie cut. Unfortunately, men don't seem to share the same appreciation for elven looks as I do. *Sigh* one day, hair, you and I will be re-united!
4. I love Twilight. (There, I said it) It's like vampiric emotional porn. Sooooo good.
5. I only blog on days I have Ava. Seems silly right? Why not blog when she is at her Daddy's house and you have peace and quiet. Truth is, I am not inspired to write when she is not around. I just kind of exist in a daze until she comes back every Saturday morning.
6. I think Muzz Buzz Armadale have had to put on more staff, just because of me. Oooops.
7. I have quite nice teeth.
8. Spelling and grammatical errors bug me. A lot. I don't think I could teach English because the dribble that erupts from some student's pens would have me going cuckoo faster than you can say "Uuuuhhhhh, Dunno."
9. Being late stresses me out to the point of panic attacks. I get very anxious if we are going to run late.
10. I don't want to die with any regrets or any unfinished business. I tend to attack problems (relationship and otherwise) like a rhinoceros, beating my head against it until it is all finished and threshed out. Sometimes this causes problems.
11. Hey, you get a bonus one!
I have been through some fairly shitty things in my life. I have had amazing highs and terrible lows. I have loved ferociously, hated passionately, fought, cried, damaged myself, hurt others, compromised my values, been too self righteous and beyond reproach, embraced new adventures with tenacity bordering on lunacy and spent whole days achieving nothing.
All of these things, every singular moment in my life with equal importance to both good and bad, has led to his moment, sitting here, and right now, I am supremely, blissfully, wonderfully happy with my life.
So, I can't have done too badly.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Co-parenting and my parents divorce.
As a teacher I parent a lot of children with separated parents, or students who are going through their parents separation. It is heartbreaking to watch but more so when the parents are warring as the poor children are stuck in the middle.
As a separated parent, I have a lot of things I feel guilty and worried about. Having a hunt, this is what research tells us parents need to do:
•listen to their children and nurture an independent and empathic relationship with each of them;
•fully support their children's relationships with the other parent (making them feel loved and wanted in both homes);
•develop positive strategies for setting limits and imposing appropriate discipline;
•continue to hold reasonably high expectations for their children, regardless of trying circumstances; and
•shield their children from their parental disagreements and resentments.
Paraphrased from: http://www.divorcenet.com/states/colorado/coart_11
I really worry sometimes that I have hurt my child. What will she think of marriage? What will she think of ME?
For a very long time after my mother left my father, I blamed her. I hated her for splitting up my family. I hated her for turning a seemingly perfect family into one that seemed to disintergrate in front of my eyes.
Before my parents separated, in a very naive way, life seemed perfect. My family were loving. We were well groomed, always with hair neatly up and shoes on. We went on holidays, camped, and some nights when it was really hot we used to lay on our big trampoline and look at the stars. One night we even saw a UFO. All four of us stared up at the sky, just outside the patio my father had lovingly built, staring in wonder at an object that zipped around the night sky, too fast for a plane or a satellite.
Our rabbits had baby rabbits. Our chooks laid eggs. My mother taught me how to sew, and cook and about spirituality and God. My father taught me about the importance of looking after the environment, how to grow spectacular vegetables and how to catch a fish. My darling baby sister was sweet natured and kind to everyone. She amazed everyone with her perfect peaches and cream skin and long, thick hair. Not everything was perfect, but as a child, it felt pretty damn close.
On the day before Valentines day, in 1998, when I was 15, Mum and Dad told us they were to separate. Then came the fighting, lawyers, court case, custody, maintainence fights that went on for years. I was left with Dad, because being at a private boarding school, I cost more. My babydoll sister went to live with my Mum in a different town, a rift that left scars on my soul and psyche to this day. I hardly saw my mother or my sister for months, as my mother struggled to find her feet and establish a new life for herself. When I saw my darling sister again, she was almost a stranger. I don't think I need to tell you that I am in tears writing this.
For my parents, the pain they endured was massive. My mother later confessed that she had been miserable for nearly 10 years. My father had no idea, loving my mother until the day she told him she wanted to leave. My parents both handled the other parent differently. My father told us everything they talked about, and exactly how he felt about my mother. My mother said nothing, and would not speak of my father at all. Both approaches hurt. Everything hurt. It felt like my world had crumbled.
My situation is a little different to that of my parents. We have one child, not two. She is 2, and not 15. We have equal and shared responsibilty for her. We live in the same suburb. We communicate freely and frequently.
And I don't hate him. Ava needs her father in her life. She needs the richness and love that he gives her and the difference that he is from me. I need his co-parenting to raise our daughter. He is important to her, and so he is important to me.
Is it enough to counteract the fact we are not together anymore? I hope so. More than that, I will do everything in my power to make it so. I never want my daughter to go through what I did.
As a separated parent, I have a lot of things I feel guilty and worried about. Having a hunt, this is what research tells us parents need to do:
•listen to their children and nurture an independent and empathic relationship with each of them;
•fully support their children's relationships with the other parent (making them feel loved and wanted in both homes);
•develop positive strategies for setting limits and imposing appropriate discipline;
•continue to hold reasonably high expectations for their children, regardless of trying circumstances; and
•shield their children from their parental disagreements and resentments.
Paraphrased from: http://www.divorcenet.com/states/colorado/coart_11
I really worry sometimes that I have hurt my child. What will she think of marriage? What will she think of ME?
For a very long time after my mother left my father, I blamed her. I hated her for splitting up my family. I hated her for turning a seemingly perfect family into one that seemed to disintergrate in front of my eyes.
Before my parents separated, in a very naive way, life seemed perfect. My family were loving. We were well groomed, always with hair neatly up and shoes on. We went on holidays, camped, and some nights when it was really hot we used to lay on our big trampoline and look at the stars. One night we even saw a UFO. All four of us stared up at the sky, just outside the patio my father had lovingly built, staring in wonder at an object that zipped around the night sky, too fast for a plane or a satellite.
Our rabbits had baby rabbits. Our chooks laid eggs. My mother taught me how to sew, and cook and about spirituality and God. My father taught me about the importance of looking after the environment, how to grow spectacular vegetables and how to catch a fish. My darling baby sister was sweet natured and kind to everyone. She amazed everyone with her perfect peaches and cream skin and long, thick hair. Not everything was perfect, but as a child, it felt pretty damn close.
On the day before Valentines day, in 1998, when I was 15, Mum and Dad told us they were to separate. Then came the fighting, lawyers, court case, custody, maintainence fights that went on for years. I was left with Dad, because being at a private boarding school, I cost more. My babydoll sister went to live with my Mum in a different town, a rift that left scars on my soul and psyche to this day. I hardly saw my mother or my sister for months, as my mother struggled to find her feet and establish a new life for herself. When I saw my darling sister again, she was almost a stranger. I don't think I need to tell you that I am in tears writing this.
For my parents, the pain they endured was massive. My mother later confessed that she had been miserable for nearly 10 years. My father had no idea, loving my mother until the day she told him she wanted to leave. My parents both handled the other parent differently. My father told us everything they talked about, and exactly how he felt about my mother. My mother said nothing, and would not speak of my father at all. Both approaches hurt. Everything hurt. It felt like my world had crumbled.
My situation is a little different to that of my parents. We have one child, not two. She is 2, and not 15. We have equal and shared responsibilty for her. We live in the same suburb. We communicate freely and frequently.
And I don't hate him. Ava needs her father in her life. She needs the richness and love that he gives her and the difference that he is from me. I need his co-parenting to raise our daughter. He is important to her, and so he is important to me.
Is it enough to counteract the fact we are not together anymore? I hope so. More than that, I will do everything in my power to make it so. I never want my daughter to go through what I did.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Growth
The 'stage' that I mentioned a few posts ago, the slapping, pushing, hitting, screaming stage that I was hoping she would grow out of.....well, it has gotten worse.
Funny thing, is she doesn't really have big tantrums any more. I know I have blogged about pulling my hair out about the tantrums and wanting it to pass, sitting, crumbling inside as she kicked and screamed on the shopping centre floor, trying to wrestle her into a trolley that she is trying to throw herself out of; has she grown out of that or have I grown into it as a parent?
Now, it's pushing, shoving, hitting, sitting on... well you get the picture. It's not pretty either, to see the perfectly formed baby that lay in my arms deliberately whacking other children in the head with sharp objects.
Does it keep going like this? Do I have to keep redefining boundaries as she grows and learns? Does it get harder and harder, until I am faced with real problems, and a young adult who is not quite as maleable as a 2 year old?
How do I prepare myself to dea with a teenager who wants to experiment with drugs? I have no experience with illicit drugs at all. Yes, I am telling the truth. I am one of the only people I know who has never experimented with illegal substances. How do I prepare her to resist peer pressure, be safe and not become a part of the pervasive culture that is youth today?
How do I deal with her posting provocative pictures of herself on the net? I didn't have a boyfriend until uni, didn't have sex until I was a legal adult. How do I relate to and protect her from becoming a woman until she is ready for the moral and emotional implications of sharing yourself so completely with another person?
How do I help her be a adult when I am not even really sure I get it yet?
When I was pregnant, I prepared myself for having a baby. I had nappies (cloth, thank you very much!), blankets, toys and tiny little jumpsuits. I educated myself about birth choices and breastfeeding, taking control and making decisions that were best for me and my baby. I was ready.
As Ava grew, so did I as a parent. I learned how to balance my work and home lives when I went back to work. I worked my butt off pumping breast milk in every break I got so that Ava would have the best nutrition I could provide for her. I learned how to introduce her to a world that is terrifying and big, even for me, a reasonably stable (I did say 'reasonably'...) financially stable woman in her late twenties.
I guess as she grows into a young woman, and the world she has access to continues to grow, I will grow with her. I hope I can steer her in the right direction, and catch her if she falls. She will be who she will be, with or without me, even after I'm gone, but for me, there is no world without her.
For now though, I am going to keep doing my best to guide her to the next stage.....which I am sure will be ten times as trying as this one!
Funny thing, is she doesn't really have big tantrums any more. I know I have blogged about pulling my hair out about the tantrums and wanting it to pass, sitting, crumbling inside as she kicked and screamed on the shopping centre floor, trying to wrestle her into a trolley that she is trying to throw herself out of; has she grown out of that or have I grown into it as a parent?
Now, it's pushing, shoving, hitting, sitting on... well you get the picture. It's not pretty either, to see the perfectly formed baby that lay in my arms deliberately whacking other children in the head with sharp objects.
Does it keep going like this? Do I have to keep redefining boundaries as she grows and learns? Does it get harder and harder, until I am faced with real problems, and a young adult who is not quite as maleable as a 2 year old?
How do I prepare myself to dea with a teenager who wants to experiment with drugs? I have no experience with illicit drugs at all. Yes, I am telling the truth. I am one of the only people I know who has never experimented with illegal substances. How do I prepare her to resist peer pressure, be safe and not become a part of the pervasive culture that is youth today?
How do I deal with her posting provocative pictures of herself on the net? I didn't have a boyfriend until uni, didn't have sex until I was a legal adult. How do I relate to and protect her from becoming a woman until she is ready for the moral and emotional implications of sharing yourself so completely with another person?
How do I help her be a adult when I am not even really sure I get it yet?
When I was pregnant, I prepared myself for having a baby. I had nappies (cloth, thank you very much!), blankets, toys and tiny little jumpsuits. I educated myself about birth choices and breastfeeding, taking control and making decisions that were best for me and my baby. I was ready.
As Ava grew, so did I as a parent. I learned how to balance my work and home lives when I went back to work. I worked my butt off pumping breast milk in every break I got so that Ava would have the best nutrition I could provide for her. I learned how to introduce her to a world that is terrifying and big, even for me, a reasonably stable (I did say 'reasonably'...) financially stable woman in her late twenties.
I guess as she grows into a young woman, and the world she has access to continues to grow, I will grow with her. I hope I can steer her in the right direction, and catch her if she falls. She will be who she will be, with or without me, even after I'm gone, but for me, there is no world without her.
For now though, I am going to keep doing my best to guide her to the next stage.....which I am sure will be ten times as trying as this one!
Friday, November 5, 2010
Accepting that good parents may plant bad seeds.
Okay, this article kind of worried me:
"We marvel at the resilient child who survives the most toxic parents and home environment and goes on to a life of success. Yet the converse — the notion that some children might be the bad seeds of more or less decent parents — is hard to take.
It goes against the grain not just because it seems like such a grim and pessimistic judgment, but because it violates a prevailing social belief that people have a nearly limitless potential for change and self-improvement. After all, we are the culture of Baby Einstein, the video product that promised — and spectacularly failed — to make geniuses of all our infants.
Not everyone is going to turn out to be brilliant — any more than everyone will turn out nice and loving. And that is not necessarily because of parental failure or an impoverished environment. It is because everyday character traits, like all human behavior, have hard-wired and genetic components that cannot be molded entirely by the best environment, let alone the best psychotherapists. "
(full article found here: http://www.sott.net/articles/show/212202-Accepting-That-Good-Parents-May-Plant-Bad-Seeds )
If you take the conclusions drawn from this persons argument to the furtherest possible conclusion, why do we discipline at all? Why try to mould our kids when nature will ultimately determine whether they are polite or rude, selfish or giving?
I think I sit somewhere in the middle in this continuum.
In regards to discipline, I believe I am Ava's teacher. I facilitate her experiences in this world and provide them with a little context as well as my interpretation. Every action and experience with me elicits a response from me. Boogies = Not good. Please and Thankyou = Good. Dropping your dacks at the shops = Not good (but funny.) Yes, they may be social constructs, but social graces serve one very important function; they serve as a measuring stick in relationships. Burping and farting in front of your husband? Acceptable. Burping and farting on the first date? Not so.
Social graces are important for relationships, and that brings me to my other important task as a parent. Relationships are at the core of parenting. Teaching you child how to love , how to be a friend, how to hold polite conversation, how to deal with hurt and rejection, and how to pick up and keep going when all your want to do is curl up in a ball.
Now, to smacks. Every single time I have smacked Ava, it has been because I have been overwhelmed and angry. It has also NEVER improved the situation. Not once has Ava done the right thing after a smack, it usually makes everything worse. Smacking, for Ava, does nothing but make everything worse and make me feel like the worst parent in the world. Time out, yes. Time in, yes, smacking, no. Everyone will have their own opinion on this one, but in my opinion, it does nothing.
But, back to the article; I guess, despite my best intentions, that Ava will grow up into the person she is, shaped and supported by my love and friendship, and guided by what I know of this world. If she knows who she is and what she stands for, and can love someone wih her whole heart, I will be a proud Mummy.
"We marvel at the resilient child who survives the most toxic parents and home environment and goes on to a life of success. Yet the converse — the notion that some children might be the bad seeds of more or less decent parents — is hard to take.
It goes against the grain not just because it seems like such a grim and pessimistic judgment, but because it violates a prevailing social belief that people have a nearly limitless potential for change and self-improvement. After all, we are the culture of Baby Einstein, the video product that promised — and spectacularly failed — to make geniuses of all our infants.
Not everyone is going to turn out to be brilliant — any more than everyone will turn out nice and loving. And that is not necessarily because of parental failure or an impoverished environment. It is because everyday character traits, like all human behavior, have hard-wired and genetic components that cannot be molded entirely by the best environment, let alone the best psychotherapists. "
(full article found here: http://www.sott.net/articles/show/212202-Accepting-That-Good-Parents-May-Plant-Bad-Seeds )
If you take the conclusions drawn from this persons argument to the furtherest possible conclusion, why do we discipline at all? Why try to mould our kids when nature will ultimately determine whether they are polite or rude, selfish or giving?
I think I sit somewhere in the middle in this continuum.
In regards to discipline, I believe I am Ava's teacher. I facilitate her experiences in this world and provide them with a little context as well as my interpretation. Every action and experience with me elicits a response from me. Boogies = Not good. Please and Thankyou = Good. Dropping your dacks at the shops = Not good (but funny.) Yes, they may be social constructs, but social graces serve one very important function; they serve as a measuring stick in relationships. Burping and farting in front of your husband? Acceptable. Burping and farting on the first date? Not so.
Social graces are important for relationships, and that brings me to my other important task as a parent. Relationships are at the core of parenting. Teaching you child how to love , how to be a friend, how to hold polite conversation, how to deal with hurt and rejection, and how to pick up and keep going when all your want to do is curl up in a ball.
Now, to smacks. Every single time I have smacked Ava, it has been because I have been overwhelmed and angry. It has also NEVER improved the situation. Not once has Ava done the right thing after a smack, it usually makes everything worse. Smacking, for Ava, does nothing but make everything worse and make me feel like the worst parent in the world. Time out, yes. Time in, yes, smacking, no. Everyone will have their own opinion on this one, but in my opinion, it does nothing.
But, back to the article; I guess, despite my best intentions, that Ava will grow up into the person she is, shaped and supported by my love and friendship, and guided by what I know of this world. If she knows who she is and what she stands for, and can love someone wih her whole heart, I will be a proud Mummy.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Do you love him?
A couple of days ago, I was driving along and a bike wizzed out in front of me as I was about to pull out onto the road. I don't know who was in the wrong, probably me, but it was never going to be an accident, my car was barely moving. He flipped me the bird and called a torrent of abuse over his shoulder. Logically, I started crying. Must have been PMS-ing.
I wondered, as I was driving home, whether this person gave any thought to the consequence of his actions. Did he think I would be upset? Or did he just say whatever he felt in order to make himself feel better with no regard to my feelings or what actually went on? Do people think about the impact that mouthing off can have on other people?
Recently, at a wedding, someone asked me, "So, how's it all going (with His Majesty)?" I didn't really know what to say. So she says, "Do you love him?" and I was really taken aback, and I got a little bit upset because in a year and a bit, nobody had asked me if I loved the man I share my life with. It took me a while to put things into place in my head after that realisation and to answer that, yes, I do. I love him.
In all the confusion surrounding the end of marriage and the beginning of my new relationship, a lot of people were very quick to talk and judge, but nobody (it felt like nobody) bothered to ask me if I was happier, nobody asked me if I loved this man. People said I should have waited longer. People said I shouldn't have left. People said he was confused. People said a lot of things, but didn't remember that I am a real person, with real feelings.
To all the people who have called me immoral, a tramp, spread rumours, whatever....Hmmmmm. I was going to write all nice things here. Come talk to me, imagine how it makes me feel, blah blah blah, but the truth is that I don't care. I am the only person who can live my life and I am doing the best I can.
Except the person who spread the rumour about me neglecting my daughter. If you (and I know who you are) ever admit that it was you, you'd better be as far away from me as you can possibly be.
Back to the first paragraph.
I was also very appreciative and quite touched. The person who asked me has been a wonderful friend to us, and has never passed judgement, never criticised, never said hurtful things. She and her husband had steadfastly been our friends, even though we don't see each other all that often, stupid busy lives we lead!
Thank you for caring about how I am. Thank you for seeing me, a real person with real feelings, and not just the fact that I am not with my husband anymore. My life is enriched because you are in it.
Thank you.
I wondered, as I was driving home, whether this person gave any thought to the consequence of his actions. Did he think I would be upset? Or did he just say whatever he felt in order to make himself feel better with no regard to my feelings or what actually went on? Do people think about the impact that mouthing off can have on other people?
Recently, at a wedding, someone asked me, "So, how's it all going (with His Majesty)?" I didn't really know what to say. So she says, "Do you love him?" and I was really taken aback, and I got a little bit upset because in a year and a bit, nobody had asked me if I loved the man I share my life with. It took me a while to put things into place in my head after that realisation and to answer that, yes, I do. I love him.
In all the confusion surrounding the end of marriage and the beginning of my new relationship, a lot of people were very quick to talk and judge, but nobody (it felt like nobody) bothered to ask me if I was happier, nobody asked me if I loved this man. People said I should have waited longer. People said I shouldn't have left. People said he was confused. People said a lot of things, but didn't remember that I am a real person, with real feelings.
To all the people who have called me immoral, a tramp, spread rumours, whatever....Hmmmmm. I was going to write all nice things here. Come talk to me, imagine how it makes me feel, blah blah blah, but the truth is that I don't care. I am the only person who can live my life and I am doing the best I can.
Except the person who spread the rumour about me neglecting my daughter. If you (and I know who you are) ever admit that it was you, you'd better be as far away from me as you can possibly be.
Back to the first paragraph.
I was also very appreciative and quite touched. The person who asked me has been a wonderful friend to us, and has never passed judgement, never criticised, never said hurtful things. She and her husband had steadfastly been our friends, even though we don't see each other all that often, stupid busy lives we lead!
Thank you for caring about how I am. Thank you for seeing me, a real person with real feelings, and not just the fact that I am not with my husband anymore. My life is enriched because you are in it.
Thank you.
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