Sometimes I forget just how fragile she is.
I left the house late, 6pm, to go & get some groceries in the hope the shops would be quiet. Just a handful of things – but important things. Like bread, cheese, milk, ham.
While I was gone Cory experienced the full force of an overwhelmed, tired toddler’s complete meltdown. To his credit he didn’t try & rationalise or reason with Violet. He just held her until she fell asleep, sobbing in his arms. It didn’t start over anything in particular. Her brain just stopped processing anything rationally.
When I got home she was passed out, snoring heavily on the couch. I could tell she’d been crying. Cory looked relaxed but perplexed. It is hard, there’s nothing you can do when she works herself up to the point that she’s crying that she’s crying.
I woke her so I could give her some dinner. She said her head was hurting & she started crying again. She asked for medicine. Her eyes were glassy & red & she was cradling her head. Rubbing her eyebrows. So panadol to the rescue.
Now she is sitting on the couch eating her dinner, smiling, laughing, happy. Watching ‘Rainbow Ruby’ which appears to be this generations version of ‘Care Bears’.
There’s so much going on & yet nothing at all. We’re mostly stuck at home. Jack & Violet have been inside the house for a month except for exercise & the occasional run to the post office where they have to wait in the car & I hope they don’t get kidnapped or suffocate…
We watch them. We explain what’s going on in simplified terms. We try not to scare them but they know that something is very wrong. I argue that they should be scared. Fear stops you doing silly things.
Jack keeps taking everyone’s temperature with his grocery scanner & saying that we are ’37’ or ‘100% ouch’. Then he gives us a bandaid. Violet keeps packing her backpack with all of her precious things & knows where her shoes are at all times in case she has to run from the virus. That’s how they make sense of it & protect themselves.
When I see her sleeping I remember just how small & delicate these kids are. Violet is almost 3, Jack is 5. That’s not long to be expected to take on so much. We’re healthy & lucky.
For now, I am content to know she slumbers under a safe roof & she is loved in epic proportions. We protect her & Jack the best we can. The responsibility of guiding them through something I barely cope with, myself, is hard but paramount. And I will do it even if I have to watch a zillion episodes of ‘Rainbow Ruby’ just to make her feel better.
#RainbowRuby #daily #VSLR #JSAR #Covid19 #Corsmor #parenting #kids #family
There’s a fog in my brain.
I’m going to have to go for a long walk today.
I am desperate for sunshine & fresh air.
A real nature walk.
Might make up another scavenger hunt for the kids
Here’s the last one.
We couldn’t find a ladybug!
#daily #kids #education #nature
2020 04 Apr 14.04.20
26th January is Australia Day.
My Husband & our kids are Indigenous Australians but most of MY family immigrated just prior to WWI from Germany, Ireland & Scotland. Yep, I’m white. In high school we were called ‘skips’. In honour of Skippy the Bush Kangaroo, I guess.
The 26th of January marks the raising of the Union Jack in Sydney Cove. This is when the British officially declared sovereignty over Australia & took control of the land – by any means necessary.
To me Australia Day has been about celebrating freedom & enjoying family & friends. It has been about looking towards a future where everyone is given equal opportunities. Where feelings about ‘Invasion’ are healed by positive relationships between all Australians. I believe this can be accomplished by raising our kids to be respectful, educated & caring people not hampered by the guilt, hurt & damage of past wrong doings for which they cannot & should not be held accountable.
What happened to the Australian Indigenous population during the 1700’s & onward is a disgrace. Considered inhuman they experienced atrocities that continued for over 200 years. We all, Australians, know this. We learnt about it at school, we were told about it by the community, by our Indigenous friends & by the media. Indigenous Australians are no longer considered inhuman. They have the same rights as anyone else. The government has issued an official & formal apology to the Indigenous Australians of this great land.
The government & it’s citizens have all said ‘Sorry’. Even those of us that weren’t living here. Those of us who joined Australia, after those times, have said (& whole heartedly felt) Sorry. Perhaps the anniversary of that day would be a better choice for Australia Day?
I do not mind what date Australia Day falls on. The date has no meaning to me. The date does not form part of my ethos surrounding the wonder & excitement that is & has always been Australia Day. It has simply meant a day to spend together. Together as a family, as a country; united. But for some it has great meaning. It’s the day their whole future was changed & their worlds turned upside down.
Almost every town in Australia has some sort of Australia Day tradition. Where I grew up you got up at 6am & threw the deck chairs, blanket & Esky in the car & made your way to the park by the river under the Morton Bay Fig Trees (yep, they’re native & they’re beautiful) for a gold-coin-donation breakfast provided by the local Rotary & Apex clubs. There were games like ‘dunny races’ & performances by children’s choirs & Indigenous Australian dancers. They gave out citizen awards & the Mayor talked about the future of the town. We stood up for the National Anthem under two flags: the Australian & the Indigenous Australian. I never could understand why there were two flags instead of one, but I just accepted it.
Just accepting it as the ‘way it is’ does not work for me anymore. I often state (tongue in cheek) “as the mother of Indigenous children…” However, in this instance I am not joking. I believe it is well overdue time to unite. To let go. Not to forget but to heal the past by moving toward a future united. To teach our children about a world where we can live without the guilt of our ancestors but of the love & compassion they had for this land, all land. For the desire for freedom that we all have. Even those of us who are white love this land & feel a deep connection to it. It’s where I was born, raised & gave birth to my own children. It is home.
So, if you must, change the date. It does not affect the feeling, the ‘vibe’ of the day for me. But it will for some. And if moving the date helps ALL Australians, Indigenous or otherwise, enjoy their day of unity, harmony & freedom then do it, I say. Do it.
This year I have a motivational word by which I want to define my year: ‘Growth’. Emotional growth – sure. Knowledge growth; definitely. However, the biggest part of my life in which I want to experience growth is my garden. Growing things, being outside & teaching my kids how to grow food & work together to build something is one of the reasons we moved a bit further out in the country two years ago.
There is freedom here, not complete freedom, but space & quiet that we didn’t have before. It has helped clear my mind & my heart of a lot of things that were holding me back in my growth. I think I have had a peek into the life I have always wanted — but it will take growth.
I have not published a blog since September 2016. A lot has happened in that space. Most importantly, we met our final family member, the beautiful Violet. I plan to add a few blogs that will fill in that time so life makes sense, but I might not get a chance. In any event, the last year has certainly been challenging. I not only met my daughter but my Son turned 2. He is a running, yelling, conversing, building machine & keeping me on my toes. Unfortunately, I also lost two of my best friends this year quite unexpectedly. The loss of those two souls in my life has left a silent hole in my heart. I have many unanswered questions. I miss them daily, hourly, minutely. I wish they were here to play with my kids & chat about our lives. There is so much I could say that trying to find the words leaves me exhausted.
In any case, to mark the beginning of 2018 growth we planted a healthy green Fig tree in our back yard. He was a gift to me from a friend (RG) & has been lovingly tended to since he was a seedling. He has been ready to find a permanent place in our yard for a little while but today seemed like the right time. It will be interesting to see how his growth matches my own. The soil here is mostly clay so it will be a challenge to keep him healthy but what’s growth without challenge?
It starts. As soon as the morning is here – the sickness. That twirling in my stomach & itching in my throat. I’m up, the baby is crying out & I go to him & try to soothe him. I fail & he whimpers. I crawl back into bed but it’s too late; it has begun & won’t leave me until sleep comes tonight.
I think of all the things I wanted to accomplish today that, now, are made harder by this thunder cloud in my belly. How much slower & harder it will be. How, with my husband gone, managing life is a struggle & grows more tiresome everyday.
Quitting is not an option.
I have never quit. I have only ever left things undone, always expecting to get back to them one day. Even people. I start to think about how many people have quit me, instead, & suddenly the thunder roars ever louder.
I try to put that out of my mind & I listen to the traffic go by.
I like hearing the cars on the Thiele Highway in the small hours. You know the time when it’s not quite night & not quite morning. I think of them all as going on a fantastic journey somewhere. Their cars laden with suitcases, jackets, snacks & newly made playlists for the journey. All of these travellers wide awake with the excitement of the getaway in the fresh air. If I think of them that way & the noise of the rubber beating the bitumen & the endless engine rumble it doesn’t aggravate me. It soothes me.
I can’t sleep.
These are two of my favourite photos of The Doors. I first saw these photos when I was about 10 years old & I have never stopped wondering what they were thinking about… or what happened to that amazing carpet; to me it looked like the veins on an arm & they were all coming out of Jim Morrison. It’s possible these photos are the reason I became obsessed with the veins in my own arms & spent years carving them up, who knows, perhaps I was looking for a Door.
The Doors, 1968
Photography by Art Kane