One Step Closer

After a manic morning of fights about "put your pants on" and "how many times do I have to tell you the same thing?!" I dropped my whirling dervish at preschool and took the little one (2) with me to the Parklands where I was meeting my lovely ladies.  I call them my lovely ladies because they are.

About four months ago I joined a dance group.  Not because it was a good dance group, more because I am a dancer who has not danced in more than a year and I, my body and my ego suffer because of it.  So I joined the dance group at the Benevolent Society where they run free activities for women and supply childcare.

There I have met a lovely group of women of which I am the youngest by a good twenty years at the very least.  None of them are or have been professional dancers and yet in dance they find a soul satisfaction.  As with every other experience in my life, the lessons are many and not obvious at the outset, but they reveal themselves through natural attrition.

In the case of these lovely ladies the lessons have been this.  Through over fifteen years I have attended and ran adult dance classes.  The adult dance class tends to be a very pressurised situation, with a high amount of expectation and judgement placed on the self, others and the class.  With ideas hot in participants minds like, "I'm going to be a dancer" or "this is how I'm going to get fit", "I'm so unco' I can't get these moves" or "everyone is looking at me and laughing", the disturbed internal voices gather an invisible fever pitch that is quite honestly exhausting and sometimes hard to ignore.  Immediately through my new experience of dance with the older woman - lovely ladies - I noticed the absence of this energy which was replaced with a calm and acceptance.

Over several classes I just sat back and observed, the gentle approach to getting the moves, the attitude of the teacher who praised her willing students for just taking part.  I concluded the difference between the younger and older woman who dances is this.  The younger woman tends to be outside of herself, not really experiencing the dance, but more concerned with how she looks, how she's performing and how other people are perceiving her.  Whereas the older participant (50+) was more internal in her motivation, she was clearly dancing for herself in every way, the other concerns where not non-existant, but they were passing thoughts rather than real concerns.

It became really clear to me that this was ideal, to truly dance for yourself, with no concern for anything outside of yourself.

So this morning as we danced in the park and were only briefly glanced at by passersby, I lifted up my arms and embraced the sun filled sky and I was present.  Present as my arms reached towards the sun, present as my balanced wobbled on the uneven grass beneath my sandals, and present as I smiled at my angel baby who patience watched her mother dance from a nearby stroller.

So it is funny the paths I walk and the moments I take, and the wry smile that crosses my face as I dance to funky town with my lovely older ladies with tinsel in their hair.  I remember bigger stages and thinner dancers who were no more talented or beautiful but ever so more self conscious than these.  And I know with a certainty who was truly happy in that moment, and what letting go it took to get that way.

The moments in between

My grandfather celebrated his 90th birthday yesterday. A momentous day; we had planned a lovely quiet luncheon at the local rowing club on the river, but instead I found myself huddled over his large vulnerable figure as he lay oddly huddled to one side in the hospital bed.

I had got the "guess what happened?" phone call this morning as I was getting ready to leave. It was my aunt telling me that my pop had had a fall and they think he may have broken his wrist.

"how are you pop?"
"awww terrible chris, awful".
My pop a male and therefore general over reactant to pain, winces. This time it's extra hard, and keeps on getting harder as Alzheimer disease tightens it's grip on his sanity. Every couple of minutes he's not sure why he's in pain, where he is, or who all these people are. He can't make out unfamiliar shapes in his broken eyes that fell victim to macular degeneration some years ago, nothing he sees makes sense, but he still tries to.

Happy birthday pop! A wry smile brushes across his lips... Yeah real happy.

My uncles and aunts passed through one by one , while I take turns with my younger cousin chasing my youngest daughter up and down the hospital corridor.

It's funny, these times are the nothingness of life, and yet in the scheme of things, they are what family is about, they are when love fills in the gaps.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Playgroup...Hello!

I had the most pleasant experience this morning and I thought I would share the love.  Firstly update...(seem it's been like 100yrs since I posted last).  This is the abridged version.

• Relationship turns verbally and physically violent
• Counselling which works, just not the way I thought it would.
• I leave with child and 3 mths pregnant
• Go O'seas
• Come Back, have baby
• Living with Mother
• More Counselling

Present day:
Single Mother of two, living with mother, going to counselling and parenting her booty off!! (Oh and still studying for degree).

THATS IT.

Anyway back to the pleasant experience.  I've been here for almost two years and have been looking at this child friendly cafe from the outside looking in for a long time now, so I heard there was playgroups there and kept meaning to drop in.  So today I went to the playgroup (with child of course).

It was lovely, good coffee, lovely people, safe and secure setup with a lovely little free morning tea of fruit and cake for the kids.  I was really chuffed.  So here's the love.

The Playgroup is run by Uniting Care Burnside.
Location: Yummy Cafe, 80 Woodhouse Drive (Cnr of Woodhouse and Copperfield) Ambarvale
Time: Friday Mornings, 10am-12pm

They also have a speech therapist in attendence every second week and for more info contact Margaret at North Campbelltown Family Centre on 87963222

They have other locations and days so call for more info.  My 18mth old had a ball!!

Relationship's in the Toilet - now what?

I am still reeling from a series of approximately five days of verbal abuse from my now insignificant other. Whoever said that children bring you closer together, never had children. I jest. A more profound thought came from a child psychologist who was speaking on a TV panel I was on one day,
"If there are any cracks in a relationship, children will discover them, and break them wide open".
Oh well, apparently our relationship was painted in a crackling medium and has now turned to dust.

I'm so emotionally bankrupt at the moment I really don't have the energy to delve further, but I just wanted to write it down. And let you other people who have gone down hill after junior arrived... I'm here with you.

I am now a monumental 2 weeks and 2 days late on my assignment (oh yeah did I mention, I'm doing a degree via correspondence), and God if you let me pass this one... I'll be greatful...REALLY GRATEFUL.

I could rave on all night here, even with my eyes closed but I really should put head to pillow, and attempt to read another Eckhart Tolle chapter (yeah good luck with that child!).

From Meltdown to Madness

Well today has been a day like any other. Swimming was cancelled due to the pump in the old pool giving out and making the water unsuitable for swimming. Anyway, I still managed to get the social part the morning completed though. My girlfriend whos daughter does swimming around the same time as mine and I just caught up at a local coffee shop, so that was very sweet.

The weather that was previously promised to be raining, turned into a balmy 28 degrees celcius. Beautiful!! I washed and dried a mass of clothes, so should it rain tomorrow as promised I will be the opposite of naked.

I've discovered that due to daylight saving and the new foray into a 'real' bed, my daughter gets up an hour or more earlier than she used to (6am) which means that she is failing by 11am, and the only thing she can do is have the meltdown. Which today meant screaming down K-mart after she saw the colouring in books/the elmo doll/the bikes/the clothes/the toilet seat with Dora on it/the chocolates...face it anything really. It's funny though, the amount of disgusted, judgemental and disapproving looks I receive from the older population is amazing. I guess I'm meant to take the child out to the car (which I don't have) and belt the crap out of the two year old who doesn't know where to put all her feelings. Well that was the lessons in parenting 101 that I recall from their generation I received. I'm always amazed, not at mothers my own age who tend to be quite supportive; but the mothers of yesteryear whose patience has wained along with the memory of what it was to have to deal with a toddler 24/7.

It's funny, I don't believe that anyone else has to put up with my daughters screaming, but I still have to get from here home, and sorry, but I may have to pick up a loaf of bread before I go, considering I won't get out of the house for the next four or five hours.

When you're life is stressful or wearing anyway, it's so lovely just to get that smile and that positive vibe from someone, makes you feel like the whole world is a bit warmer, and that Mariah Carey-esk scream is not quite as loud.

My Prayer

Please Lord, prevent me from killing the two year old.
Let me remember the good times after two hours of getting her to nap.
When she tries to stand on the power point and says "stairs" attemping to jump up and down,
let me remember how innocent and sweet she really is.

When I'm laying her down and she tries to kick me in the head, let me remember,
it's not really intended that way,
it's just a simple struggle for autonomy.

When I've asked her thirty times to lie down, taken every teddy bear I can, and she is still jumping up and down clapping and singing "happy clap"
Let my sanity return and remind me that it's probably not OK for me to sit on her to get to lie still.

When I walk inside her room to see every book, toy and belonging taken from its place and strewn across the floor
Let me remember she's probably just expressing her creativity or seeking the attention that I didn't give her for the four minutes I was in the next room.

And when she finally falls asleep approximately five minutes before she's meant to wake up, and is smiling with the face of intoxicated cherub,
let me remember that revenge is not a very motherly desire and besides God will take care of that in time when she has children of her own...

(c) C. Donoghue 2008

Too much time on my hands - really

Well as I left you at the last juncture (approx 1.5 yrs ago) that may give you an idea of exactly how much time I've had to write, paint, dilly dally and paint my nails. That's right people none, zero and Nada.

My little angel face is now twenty seven months old (or in layman speak two years & three months). She is well into the terrible adorable twos. We have falling down tantrums for just about every event of the day, let me explain further.

1. Falling down tantrum one - I have to go to potty and I don't wanna
   
2. Tantrum two - I don't want to pull my pants up
3. Tantrum three - Oh you're making my bottle, I want to put the formula in!
4. Tantrum four - I don't want Oprah on...I want Elmo (yes Dads, I know you're with her here, but I'm planning a homicide and it involves Dora the Explorer)
5. Tantrum five - I want your coffee...

6,7,8,....OK now even I'm bored - but you get the gist I'm sure.

We've make the move to the big bed with relatively little drama. We are still in the process of potty training, but I think it's me not her that is taking so long. Our hair is long enough to wear in cute little puffy piggy tails and we're so cute that everyone just dies.

Lot's of drama all the time.

Angel face hits and pinches other children, which has become the bane of any time spent socialising. And here's me, who's trying to do all the 'new' parenting stuff i.e. not belting is waiting for the consistency approach to work. We have a new litany that we recite when approaching all children's social activities
"Remember we have to be GENTLE. What does mummy say? No hitting, no pinching, it makes people sad when you hit or pinch, so be GENTLE and NICE"
This mantra seems to work when the mood is right, and then there's that face that holds glimpses of my angel at 13yrs of age, sayin' yeah wot-ever!!

For the most part though, she can be a delight. Intelligent, brilliant, funny and spirited as none can compare. It is an adventure and we are healthy and therefore blessed.

Would love to keep chatting, but my two year old miss thing is stirring from her nap, so I must get ready to start my afternoon shift.
See you next lunchtime xo