It’s been a while since I’ve posted here…
At the moment I’d like to say I feel like this:
But I’m more like this:
I feel like I’m isolated from the world yet I’m in it… the most frustrating part is I feel like I put myself in this situation, yet I can’t remember how I did it… and the worst part is… the more people try to reach out to me the harder I push away…
I’ve been having recurring dreams lately that I used to have a few years ago and it’s left me confused and sad.
I keep dreaming that my grandmother hadn’t actually passed away from her cancer and that she was still alive and living in her home. In my dream for some reason our family and her are estranged from one another and it’s been that long that we’ve come to think that she had passed away. As the dream goes on I lament to mum that I still miss nanny and wish she hadn’t passed away to which mum replies “she hasn’t died… she still lives in her house, we just don’t visit her any more.” I’m always horrified at the thought and decide to go and visit her.
When I get to the gate of the house I’m always overcome with fear that she may reject me, and fear that she will be angry that we’ve neglected her for so long, which is usually followed by a deep sense of shame and guilt.
I go inside and she is thinner than she was before by a little bit and looks similar to when she was ill. She comments about the fact that we haven’t visited her sometimes she says “Oh remembered where I live hey?” or “Nice of you to bother seeing me” or “finally decided I was worth visiting again?” To which I’m covered with a sense of shame and guilt again.
I find myself wanting to tell her that we’d been told she had died but I want to protect my relatives too so I don’t tell her anything and instead tell her that I’ve missed her so much.
We get to talking and she reveals that she is in remission but that her chances aren’t very good because she left everything until it was too late.
She also tells me that she knows why no one visits her any more and it’s because everyone can’t handle her being ill again. So rather than go through all the anguish again they’ve all just drifted away from her and she’s just simply been forgotten.
I’m always returning home to tell mum about my visit and about how embarrassed I am and it’s usually at this point that I wake up.
Nanny when she was younger than I am now
It takes me a while when I wake up to realise that it was just a dream and that she isn’t with us any more and then I feel depressed and almost to the point of grieving all over again. Sometimes in my waking life I go to say things like “we should tell nanny about that” or “I’m going to go visit her” and I always catch myself just before I say it thinking how crazy real have these dreams felt.
I do miss Nanny so much though. We were soul mates and together we could be mischievous, silly, creative, emotional and a little selfish. She was my practical joke partner and the person I told my secret dreams to. She was my number 1 fan and I hers. She gave me red cordial when mum said not to and most importantly she taught me not to worry about what other people think (a lesson I still struggle with today). Sometimes when I try to be cheeky and play a joke I can hear her laughing with me and that’s just wonderful.
I had an awkward moment today… I was casually going into a toilet cubicle only to have a small child follow me in pulling his grandma along with him. She tried to apologise and pull him back out and I had to do a little laugh and say “it’s okay we’re not all going to fit in here anyway.”
That little moment got me thinking of all the other awkward moments I’ve ever experienced and then I figured it would make for a fun blog post so here it is!
10 random awkward moments:
That moment when you introduce yourself to someone and start telling them a little about yourself and you ask them who they are… only to realise you know them from your past…
When you sneeze, but all anyone hears is the fart that occurred at the exact same time…
That moment when you make eye contact with somebody through the crack in the bathroom stall.
That moment when you answer someone’s question only to realise they weren’t even talking to you…
When you don’t hear the question and you try to go by body language alone and take a gamble and say “yeah” only to see the other persons face turn to a horrified expression.
When you wave at someone you know in the distance only to realise it’s not who you thought it was…. or even worse when someone is waving at you and you return the wave only to realise they’re waving at the people behind you…
When you open a gift and you don’t know what it is…
That moment when you sit down on something and it just doesn’t feel right and you have to find a way to gracefully remove yourself…
When you get hit by a big wave in the surf only to realise not all of you stayed in your bathers…
When you have to explain why your joke was funny… or when someone else tells a joke that bombs and you feel you need to provide pity laughter to cover the silence…
So… What’s your top awkward moment?
So it’s been a while since my last blog post. I’m getting to the busy end of the year with exam correction and report writing in full swing but never fear I’m back! I have to admit I’ve also had a bit of writers block and have been struggling to come up with a new topic that helps me move away from the melodrama of my last posting.
Last Friday I had my year 9 girls class for the last time and we all agreed it would be fun to finish off by having a swim so the majority of my girls remembered their swim gear and went for a bit of a dip. Towards the end of the lesson I was sitting beside some of my students who hadn’t gone swimming and we got to talking about the usual things in life. The rest of my class had started to come out of the pool to dry off and we sat together talking about the difficulties of being in year 9 and being 15 years old.
I asked them if this has been their hardest or most unhappiest year this year and the majority of them replied with yes. They also wanted to know why so I answered with the usual “oh well you know most people are going through heaps of growing changes and hormones can be fairly unforgiving in their disruption of emotions and what not. Oh and most of you are trying to figure out your friendship groups, and you’re being asked to start thinking about your future and for most of us 15 is the age when our parents just no longer “get” us.”
Then I stopped I was watching these kids nodding their heads and I said “you know basically it’s that time in your life when you want both sides of the coin. You want to be treated like an adult, do adult things be spoken to like an adult etc etc but at the same time you also want to be able to behave like a kid, say silly things, play games, talk rubbish with your friends for hours and basically not be required to do anything that’s perceived as important.”
Whenever I think of all of this I always think of Christmas. Being 15 years old and going to the big family Christmas lunch/dinner you’re just hoping that finally this is the year that you get told you’re no longer having dinner at the kids table but are finally being upgraded to the adults table [cue glorious choir music]… I mean after all it’s about time right? You’ve been practising your table manners for at least 12 years, how often are you going to get the chance to show off those skills? The flip side to all of this however is that you’re still hoping that your presents are gonna be fun toys and stuff and none of those weird boring looking things that you saw your aunty get from your nonna.
I told my year 9 girls not to worry too much and that year 9 is usually the worst year ever in terms of high drama in life and that hormones and personal values would soon settle and with that so will their friendship groups and the drama of having parents that “just don’t get me!”
After they left for recess I started to reflect on what Year 9 was like for me, and sure enough it was just as dramatic for me as it is now for them.
For me it was a series of firsts.
It was the first time I experienced death, with the loss of a dear friend and mentor in my golf coach. Also the first time I’d attended a funeral.
The first time I had a boyfriend, and the first time I had a break-up. The first time I had experienced malicious gossip and the first time I watched all my friends fight. The first time I yelled at a teacher and used bad words to emphasis my yelling.
It was the first time I was dragged into a extended family argument over something trivial. The first time I attempted to rebel (and failed miserably at it) and the first time I attempted to harm myself.
I had other firsts too including my first time at work experience and looking for a job and a few sport related firsts. Reflecting on all of this made me realise these year 9 girls could be going through just as much drama now. I’m just glad I’m not being yelled at by them now like my teacher was by me back then.
Above all else I just hope that when they come into my classroom that they can forget about their “year 9 baggage” and take the opportunity to be either side of the coin without worrying too much.
“Oh how depressing!”
That little voice in my head would be rich this holiday break if it got a $ for every time it said those same words… “Oh how depressing!”
Let’s recap shall we? As a brilliant educator of high school children I of course enjoy some perks… one of them being the two weeks of term holidays that appear once in a while and let’s not forget the all important summer break of 6 weeks! Ah yes my life is grand! Now you’re thinking “How can anything be depressing when you get that much time off?” So allow me to share with you my 2 week break that is drawing to a close as of tomorrow!
Now, the weekend that kick started this whole break went as all my other ones do with Saturday devoted to hitting a little white ball around a park and Sunday devoted to convincing mum about how much fun we’re going to have with me home for 2 weeks (save your “living at home with your parent’s” jokes I’ve heard them all and told them too).
Monday – Mother and I decided a visit to the Royal Melbourne Show was in order. What started out as a lot of fun exploring the pavilions and displays soon turned to frustration when I realised that I was not handling the crowd conditions… isn’t that a sign of becoming old before your time? I had become a grumpy old woman and it was only day one! And in a reputed place of fun! “Oh how depressing….“
Tuesday – Woke up and discovered that I had the cold to end all colds. Spent the day curled up on the couch clutching my iPad like a life support vest and praying for someone to hurry up and make a move in Words with Friends… Sick on my holidays!!! “Oh how depressing!“
Wednesday – If I thought Tuesday was bad… well Wednesday wanted to win in the sucky stakes… not only was I sick, but I was going to miss out on a game of golf and socialising… not only that… but mother had decided that today would be a good day for housework. I shuffled around the house dropping tissues every where and then complaining that someone was making a mess, surely not me as I was the only one cleaning (I have no idea why my mother rolled her eyes at me when I made that statement). In the late afternoon I decided I may as well try the xbox for some time wasting fun… I lasted perhaps 20 minutes before the screen flicked off and the xbox flashed the red ring of death… “Oh how depressing!” Yes my darling readers… it was about that time that the heavens cracked open (almost literally by the sounds that rocked out of the clouds) and I got to enjoy a free light and sound show instead of killing zombies or whatever it was I was attempting to do before I saw red…
Thursday + Friday – Another day spent dragging my feet around the house… by this stage the only thing I could lay claim to in regards of achievement was that I had finally managed to infect someone else with the monster cold… So now my mother and I could play day of the living dead all by our very selves as we shuffled and moaned our way around the house… “How depressing!“
I’m fairly sure I did something on Friday… I just don’t know what… obviously it was so exciting that it’s left my mind blank with amazement… “Oh how depressing!“
Saturday + Sunday – Ah the Grand Final! Got my hair cut before the game and then I had the pleasure of watching the game with my family (yes it was the only option as I had no others). “Oh how depressing!“
Sunday was the day I managed to get rid of my cold entirely… I’d actually hand-balled it to dear old dad… My popularity was growing… “Oh how depressing!“
Monday – Mother and I went shopping to our favourite shopping centre (other side of Melbourne)… when we got there I “got the spot” the ideal dream parking spot. Could things be looking up? Thing were going fine until I went to try on clothing and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror… “Ugh how depressing!” Couldn’t decide what was worse, my ongoing weight issues or my ongoing ugly issues… ”Oh how depressing!” Lost my nerve after that didn’t try anything on and as a result didn’t buy anything… ”Oh how depressing!” Mum thought she had done something to upset me and as usual I’m so tight lipped on discussions that involve me that I got frustrated that I couldn’t put into words why I wasn’t happy and also didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin her day with my drama… ”Ugh how depressing!“
Tuesday – It took until the second Tuesday of my break to get me smiling… “Oh how depressing!“… Oh shush little voice! I finally got on the golf course with a friend from work followed with lunch out after it… *gasp* Finally I’m a real person for a change instead of a shade hiding in the house.
Wednesday, Thursday + Friday – The excitement of Tuesday tipped me over the edge and I slipped back into my usual blue funk (starting to become a holiday trend which scares me more). Woke the xbox up again (it didn’t die after all yay!) and spent good parts of each day battling various digital demons to avoid the ones in my head. “Oh how depressing!“
Had a small respite on Friday being able to visit my favourite Evil friend M, sadly the blue funk followed me and I wasn’t my usual charming self… spent most of it just lying on the couch babbling about stuff and not feeling I was making sense or 100% there… my apologies M.
Saturday – Skipped golf today due to the threat of rain… which never eventuated… “Ugh how depressing!” Devoted the day to exploring the Wastelands in Fallout 3 on my xbox… my brother asked me if I had, had a break… that’s when I realised I’d played for about 4 hours straight stopping for dinner and then playing again for 3 hours…. what a waste of a day… ”Oh how depressing!” I think I’ve killed my eye sight… ”Oh how depressing!” and I’ll no doubt have nightmares tonight about Super Mutants trying to kill me… ”Ugh how depressing!“
Had a last minute invite to visit M for a family birthday and the promise of cake… I declined because I knew I wasn’t feeling up to it… yeah… “how depressing!“
So what conclusions about me have I come to now that it’s Sunday? Let’s tick them off:
- I’ve become so reclusive that I have no social circle (aside from M and my work friends… who I wholeheartedly love but it can’t be healthy only having friends from one aspect in life can it?). I have no idea how I became this reclusive.
- I’m my own worse enemy, I seek affirmations from others because I’m incapable of giving them to myself, and even then I can’t help but question why someone is being positive towards me.
- I’m losing resilience with each quiet holiday break
- I’m best when I’m so busy that I don’t have time to stop and focus on my personal demons… but is that healthy? Shouldn’t I be able to have down time without worrying about being caught unaware?
- At some point in life I let myself fall behind, everyone my age is now living with someone (not their parents), married or having kids or travelling the world… and now I feel like I’m running so far behind the rest of the field that I may as well either give up or just run off the track and go find something entirely different to do.
Yeah I know what you’re thinking after reading this blog post…
“Oh how depressing!“
I’ve come to the conclusion that my mum could very well be the last of a dying breed. What I’m referring to of course are the famed “stay at home mums”. With changes in the economy meaning more parents are needing to work in order to sustain their families and with more women actively seeking out their own careers it’s very possible that the days of stay at home mums/dads will be a thing of the past.
I’ve felt the need to muse about this today as I’ve noticed a lot of other issues that float around the role of what it is to be a stay at home mum. One concern I have is the increase in stigma towards being a home maker and the potential effects that this stigma could have towards both the mother and the rest of her family. Another concern I have is the consequences of choosing this path in life (or not choosing this path).
So let’s first talk about the stigma.
Child 1: “Hey, what does your mum do for a living?”
Child 2: “She’s a stay at home mum.”
Child 1: “Oh, so she doesn’t work?”
Child 2: “She does too! She works all day at home.”
Somewhere we developed this myth that “working” only ever occurs when we travel to a destination and then do something in return for profit… and soon as a stay at home mother neither travels nor earns a profit for her efforts then surely what she is doing is not entirely work.
When I was a child stay at home mums were relatively common with a lot of mums opting to look after their children full-time at least until they were in high-school whilst dad was the only proverbial bread winner. This option however has one major issue/drawback and that is simply put that by the time their small children are all in high-school, mum has been too long out of the workforce to get a ticket back in. In fact the odds are far greater that their children will enter the workforce before they do again.
So when a mother can no longer access the workplace (aside from volunteer work which though admirable isn’t truly perceived as work because how is that going to provide for her family?) and is left to continue acting as head of house cleaning duties what impact does that have on both her and her family?
One impact is the continuation of the above conversation “What does your mother do?” Wherein the answer begins to almost sound like a defence in the wake of what will surely be some level of scorn that one of your parents could be “unemployed”.
There is also a risk nowadays with most children having both parents working that when you come across a child that has a stay at home mum that they may be covered in guilt. “You’re lucky that your mum can stay and look after you at any time”. A child may feel guilty that they’re holding mum back from getting a career. A father may feel guilty that they’ve prevented their partner from chasing their own career… and a mother may feel guilty that her partner is working to provide for the family and that she is some how not as accomplished as her child’s friend’s mother who does have “employment”.
Either way you look at it, often the choice of whether to go back to work is a double edged sword for most. Going back to work means less access and time with your children, and more relying on others to do the right thing. Not going back can result in the worry of not doing your share financially to provide for your family, or dealing with the fear of never “doing” anything with your life. With society’s push that we should all be aspiring to have a career of some sort, to do something in life, we often discredit all those who just want to grow up and have a family of their own.
To all the stay at home mums out there, you’re job is the hardest. Each day you have to do the same things to ensure that your household runs the way you know it should. Each day you provide for your children and your partner and some days it feels too much and others it feels like a breeze. So mums, whilst there might never be a right choice between being a stay at home mum or going back to work don’t ever feel let down with your choice because it was the right choice for you and your children will be forever grateful. As for me? I know I’m grateful for my mum’s choice.
I wasn’t going to blog about Sept 11. I figured everyone already would be, and well after 10 years I honestly feel that we’ve heard all the stories that we’re ever going to want to hear about this horrific event. In fact I went so far as to place a post-it note on my drawing board suggesting that I think of a different topic altogether for my readers this week.
However… I got to listening to the radio this week on my way to work and the topic of 9/11′s tenth year anniversary was often mentioned and I found myself praying in the car that I wouldn’t be subjected to any more footage of the towers smoking whilst New Yorkers watched below in disbelief. I found this year that I just can’t handle it emotionally any more. I also find that very odd. Why do I get so emotional about something that hasn’t directly affected me? I didn’t lose a loved one. In actual fact I slept through the whole thing only to wake up and witness the replays on the morning news as I prepared for my mundane day of uni… To this day I still regret going to uni, I wish I had of stayed home and watched this with my family instead of strangers. However in saying that it fascinated me that people were so keen to talk to each other, and for the briefest of moments there were no strangers, only other people feeling the same turbulent emotions.
Earlier this year I was sitting in an RE class where our year 9 students were watching a documentary of the day. They sat transfixed watching the tragedy unfold as people walked dazed in the streets, emergency crews rushed through the traffic and amateur cameramen could be heard behind their shaky footage uttering “oh god, oh god”. I couldn’t help drawing a stark comparison as I watched these kids do exactly what I was doing in a classroom at uni 10 years earlier. I also spent the period hoping that none of the students would ask me a question, because I had lost my voice, some how my throat had been replaced with a hard bubble. These students would have been 5 years old when this event occurred and prior to me pressing play on the video I asked them what they remembered and most couldn’t remember much if anything at all. It fascinated me that we’ve moved already into an age where there are high school students who have no memory of one of the biggest events in history.
So what did compel me to do my blog entry on 9/11 after saying I wouldn’t? I guess more than anything else it was simply that I felt that it wouldn’t be right not to say anything at all. This was a human tragedy. Innocent people died, and even more were left to deal with the aftermath. A story that really shook me as I listened to the radio this week was one man’s account of his morning. He spoke of going to pick up his son from school and as he stood outside the school he could hear the white noise of kids playing and laughing (they had been herded to the basement of the school where teachers had let them have free time and had been kept innocent of the situation). He said he was overcome with sadness as he realised that there would be parents picking their kids up that afternoon only to then explain why their father or mother would not be coming home again. The man on the radio said that for him, the face of this tragedy is the face of a 5 year old grieving and confused as he stood at his father’s funeral watching a process he was too young to understand.
To me stories like this are the reality of this event. When we reflect today on the tragedy that was September 11, let us remember first and foremost that it is a human tragedy. Let us not politicise it or speak of conspiracy theories or hate for a group of people. Let us remember those who lost someone and let us continue to support those who wish to be healed and to be able to move on.
