Knock Knock, Penny, Knock Knock... FYBF

Boy 1: 2005 - First day of school.

We are coming to the end of the final term of the final year of his Primary school years. The child that was is now the young man that is. For those of you who have followed our story you will know what an incredible difference these years have wrought.

I am bursting with pride at the person before me. This year I had asked him and encouraged him to enter one of the more popular public speaking programs in our district. I said "His was a story that should be told... maybe he could speak of what his school years had done for him? Wouldn't that be a wonderful thing for his teachers to hear?"

He refused. "Why?" I asked, thinking of myself basking in his reflected light.

I must admit I was influenced by another who had done something similar a few years back, though I knew her story had been written not by herself.

"Because they see me everyday and know what it has meant to me."

BAZINGA!

This is the child who has written an illustrated children's book, this is the boy who is happy to market and talk and educate in any public arena to help those younger on the spectrum and to assist those around them to understand and support those kids.

He knew perfectly well my request was not born of my usual educate, advocate, demonstrate philosophy, but rather of a "Ner, ner" motivation. Not to our teachers, but to others who had not believed, who had belittled and made our my life difficult.

He loves me, he loves so very deeply, and yes, he teaches me to be a better person. He is right, they see him every day and realise what an impact they have had on this once lost, little boy who has blossomed into this gorgeous, strong young man.

I see less and less of Sheldon, and more and more of my Deepak boy emerging.

Boy 1: 23/11/11.

Thank you my son, for taking me with you on this incredible journey that is your life.

FYBF - The Scarecrow Edition!

Well, finally getting off my ever expanding arse and joining in to a FYBF again! And I am here to offer evidence of why my blogging has dropped off of late: my life is NUTS!

This weekend is the annual Scarecrow Festival on our little mountain. Yes, once a year we mad mountain people enter competition with each other to see who can create the best scarecrow. I kid you not. Last year our friends amazing effort was torched - which is why we will be bringing ours in at night this year. Due to the circumstances of 2010 we did not enter.
We had entered two years ago.  2009. Didn't win anything, probably because I do not have a creative bone in my body and it was a piss-poor effort.

Albert Scareinstein

But this year we have stepped up and taken it to another level. Boy 1 and Boy 2 are old enough to seriously contribute, and Big Boy was informed early enough of our plans to be able to slot some time in. And


voila'

here you have it:

Docrow Who & T.A.R.D.I.S.

Pretty cool, eh?

We are feeling rather full of ourselves now. Will find out if we won anything on Sunday. But even if we don't we feel like winners for our effort.

Oh, and it has a flashing blue light on top of the T.A.R.D.I.S. It would have had sound effects also but my mp3 player decided to die this morning.


This is my scarecrowy FYBF... so, how's your week been?

The Mother

I wrote this in a note on Facebook, and then decided to share here too. Sorry for the double up for those who are on my FB list. Am also linking for both weekend grateful and FYBF. It's been THAT sort of week.

The mother walked, bent double under her load. On her back were her children, her career, her aging parents, her friends - though who, when and what changed as needed. Her face pale with perspiration, her legs shaking with effort, she put one foot in front of the other, constantly moving forward though sometimes at a snail's pace. Some days her children were dead weights, exhausted, stressed, the pressures of school, social acceptance, conforming wearing them out.
Other days they were as light as feathers, and she needed to tie a string from her heart to theirs so they did not float away with happiness and laughter. And on the terrible, black, heavy days when she thought her back would break, the load would suddenly lighten and the pain lessen and she would look to her side where she had not realised her loving partner or a dear friend had appeared, and they would say: "Hey, I'm here. Do not worry, let me carry some of it for a while whilst you learn to breathe freely again."

Thank you my friends and husband for allowing me to exhale.

FYBF and Trying To Wangle My Way to a Meet...

Well, am going to join in FYBF this week. Haven't jumped on for ages and as I also haven't blogged much of late may have to link an oldie rather than a newie. Am going way back as it approaches the first anniversary of my Mother's death. This time a year ago things were bleak, but this post I wrote not long after I lost her still resonates today. For her voice echoes in my head on the days I am sinking below the waves of grief. And her love still pulls me above the turbulent sea of pain and reminds me of how very lucky I am, and how truly blessed I was to have her as my mother.

Life is Too Short.

I am also trying to con manoeuvre bribe charm my family into going up to Brisbane tomorrow. Considering Big Boy and I were up there today it is a little more difficult than usual, though the discovery of an amazing crystal shop in West End is swaying Boy 1. Boy 2 and his father are a little trickier to convince, but I am working my way around to it.

Because there is a bloggers' meet with all the lovelies I would so like to catch up with! And for some reason (and I now know I am not alone in this) the events do not show on my facebook page anymore.

Just think - you lot may be able to meet my sweet, well-behaved boys! I promise, you won't even know they are there... 

Quiet just like their mother.

If It's FYBF It Must Be Friday, Right?

Wrong. Thanks to the Blogger debacle (which it seems in some shape or form is continuing to some extent) it is Saturday. So whilst it is still Flog Yo Blog Friday, it is happening on Saturday... Clear as mud? Good.

Will be back to fill in the blanks but am sleep deprived (partying), brain dead (hungover) and off to bed.

But was mean enough to jump in and book my spot.

Night!

FYBF: Life Is A Rollercoaster!

Life is a rollercoaster,

Just gotta ride it...

Okay, so the lyrics other than the tag aren't all that apt for my life at the moment, but hey, I like the song and it is a feel good listen. Life is crazy busy, and will be so for the next few months. We are in transition, big changes are in the wind, but to achieve them we have to work our butts off for a bit. Add in kids and other committments and you have MANIA! It will be worth it in the end, but, OH BOY... what we have to do in the near future. Gulp. So if I'm not around as much, please forgive me.

Who ever said running three businesses whilst managing the family stuff was going to be easy? Oh, that's right... no-one!

It's Friday. So this is all you're getting for my FYBF. A whine. But later you can have a wine as IT'S FRIDAY! With my blessing (as if you need it, lol).

Will be back as usual to add all the FYBF stuff when it is open.

Cheers!

PS Somewhere along the line I got a button on Blog This! Woot! Go check it out!

FYBF - Tales of A Dragonfly Future.

In Japanese culture, it is believed the dragonfly is symbolic of success, victory, happiness, strength and courage, and represent light and joy. It is a reminder that we are of the light and can reflect it in powerful ways if we choose. Seeing through illusions and allowing you to shine with new vision. A symbol of transition, change. From murky depths to shining light.

He is the dragonfly. Transitioning from murky hidden dark childhood into brilliant bright irridescent youth. I watch as he soars to new heights, waiting for the pause, the hesitation of new wings, prepared to provide a safe landing if he falters and falls. It is not necessary. He flits past my line of vision, pausing to hover close, brushing my fears away before flying off to new worlds. Returning, always returning home safe from his latest adventure. Ready to fly once more in the brand new day, pushing past old boundaries and anxieties, revealing unforeseen strength. He radiates happiness from his very soul, deep contentment down to the core of himself. He is the dragonfly. He is MY dragonfly. As he soars my heart soars with him.

 

 

Nowadays I feel more and more distant from others on this ASD journey, saddened to see their struggles,no longer able to relate to the despair. For all that fills my eyes is the blinding brilliance from a myriad of reflections of his rainbow wings as he flies higher and higher bathed in happiness and hope.

Dragonflies have always been his thing. Since a very young age Boy 1 has been enthralled by these magical creatures of the wing, and it is what we have given to those who help him as gifts of thanks to remember him by. Who ever knew how prophetic such a symbol would turn out to be. Always dragonflies, everything dragonflies...

 





 

FYBF - Light It Up Blue & Why The Hell Do I do This?

Tonight is the school disco. Today is Light It Up Blue day for Autism Awareness.  Pretty apt mix really. Wonder if the kids would complain if all the disco lighting was various shades of blue, hmmm? I'm on the glowstick stall after swearing "no more" last year. What can I say, I'm a control freak who can't stand by and watch without twitching. And I happen to like and respect the 2011 committee members too much to stand idly by and not offer to help. So instead of just lighting it up blue we'll be lighting it up green and pink and ornage and yellow too!

For FYBF this fine Friday, after the discovery of the impact the poetry of one little boy has made (even if copyright liberties were taken by others), I have renewed hope in the power of words. So I am adding a few of my own in celebration of ASD awareness.

April 1st  - Light It Up Blue Day, in preparation for
World Autism Awareness Day on Saturday April 2nd. Landmarks around the world will be a beautiful blue in support of this important message.

It is the 4th WAAD. Statistics now show 1 in 100 children are affected by ASD. If you don't know someone on the autism spectrum you are the exception.

I won't be sharing his poem today (learnt my lesson well), but rather some of my own. From a while back now, but the second is so apt as our lives are now.

Ignorance

Look not into my eyes for fear

Unknown things just not clear

Someone holds me very dear

Ignorance keeps pain so near

Look not into my heart so pure

Never tell me you want a cure

I am unique, that’s my allure

Angry people please be fewer

Look not into my tears so loud

I’m not just someone in the crowd

It could be your son being cowered

My Mum says she’s always proud

Walk Before You Run

You have to crawl before you walk,
Walk before you run
But now you need to spread your wings and fly.

I always held your hand before
Locked it tight in mine
But now you have to soar alone so high

The time is now upon us
To loosen up the ties
For all to let you show the world yourself

For I am just a mother
Who must learn to stand aside
And not wrap you up and give you so much help

So now your running strong my son
We truly are so proud
The boy you are will be such a great man

But just remember when you race my son,
And pass the blurry faces my son,
Please still reach out and gently touch my hand.

Happy FYBF. Spread the message. Please.
 
(Will be back to link up when linky up).  

FYBF - You Never Know What Lurks Behind.

People amaze me. Not only do you have incredible generousity and kindness, you also witness absolute nastiness and vile behaviour. One minute you marvel at the noble unselfishness of strangers, the next you are doubled over in pain at a vicious offensive from an acquaintance or even more painful, a supposed friend. As adults these high-school games and attacks are meant to be behind us. But they are not.

There are two reasons for this in my point of view.

Firstly, if you have been the victim of such an attack in your lifetime it lingers. It settles like a hidden wound deep in your psyche, waiting to resurface and leak bad memory pus all over your present. Some of the time this colours your interpretation of the written word, or even real life conversations leading you to either:

(a) go on the offensive yourself

or

(b) curl up in a ball reliving the horrific experiences of the past in the present day.

Secondly, life is hard in today's world. The "I want" generation is now finding keeping up with the Edelstein's  (for the Joneses have long dropped down the social ladder) nearly impossible. People are unhappy with life, with the circumstances they have to live within (damn you GFC), and the most sad, with themselves. It is not only a desire for themselves, they yearn for their children to have more, to be accepted and fit in. Everyone wants to be popular, but for some the desire brings forth jealousy which creates spiteful, childish behaviour. They resort to the patterns of youth, never seeming to have gained the wisdom from growing up.

Which one am I? I think I fall into group one. Both sections. Reading Courtney's brave post brought forward some really bad memories from my school days. Isn't that sad - these days are over thirty years back and yet can be relived in a flash. It is a part of me I always remain aware of, I need to fight to keep it under control when looking at the next generation. I have to realise my experiences and the fights of my childhood are not theirs or their reality. Take a deep breath, step back and soothe the hidden black panther uncoiling itself from slumber.

I guess underlying all this is a message. You never know what is hiding behind a smile. People can mask pain really effectively and the cries of "I had no idea" are fruitless when it is too late to rescind an action.

This is my FYBF. A little late because I just couldn't bring myself to finish it last night.







And to cheat a little I am adding my Weekend Rewind into this post. October was a terribly hard month last year. It was the month I lost my mother, Wise Woman. Reading back through my posts there were two I thought about adding. One poignant and probably quite appropriate given the topic of this post, the other a joyous memory of my childhood and why I believe in myself. Because she did, always. So I chose the second.

FYBF - Autism Soapbox Time

I read a phrase a minute ago which resonated powerfully. Well, actually I misread a phrase, but I'm running with it anyway.

Diagnosis paralysis.

You know, that overwhelming feeling of "what the fuck?" which hits when you receive the final verdict. Now this feeling is not limited to those with children on the autism spectrum, no. It is a state of limbo all experience with any serious diagnosis - it can be a special need, an illness, a prognosis or a condition. Frozen in ineffectiveness. A state of suspension, similar to the feeling when you wake in the midst of a dream of falling. Weightlessness and fear. Stunned, stopped, struggling to comprehend a new, usually unexpected to some degree, reality.

Diagnosis paralysis.

We all have or will experience it at sometime with someone in our lives. Be it the quirky child you thought was merely eccentique, the close relative whose aches and pains turn out to be something far more insidious than mere aging, or the friend (whose socially engorged lifestyle you envy as you sit waist deep in nappies) who reveals the hidden agony of infertility. The earth falls away  and you sit trapped in "What? How? Why? WHAT?"

Diagnosis paralysis.

Sometimes we just need to process not progress.

 
Happy FYBF - Have a great time ABCers!
 

The Imaginarium of a Madmother

Yes, I'm a little warped. Put it down to a childhood filled with magical laughter and lots of imaginings. And a mother who believed her teddy bears came alive at night right up to her death (vale' Wise Woman - don't worry, I still put the blankie over your bears on a cold night) at 91. I love to weave tales for my boys, and I must admit my sense of the absurd has helped a lot in our journey with awetismness.

Now, I have to tell you this reminiscing journey has been prompted by a blog post. Thank's to Torkona and his inaugural blog award I have found a new obsession addiction blogger to follow. Head on over to the winner, you'll soon see why she took it out even though she is a fairly recent arrival on Blogworld. In fact it is her post, Bullshitification which has prompted me thinking about the imaginarium of childhood fantasy and *ahem* slight untruths we spin to ease the way for our kids. Oh, and to cover up adult stuff-ups of course. Many of which I have already mentioned here.

• There was, of course, the drunken tooth fairy debacle. You remember, when old toothy partaked of a little too much morning dew, very intoxicating to fairies, and slammed into that random spoon in the pot plant? Okay, I'll refresh it for you... Boy 1 had lost his tooth, this is, ooh, back about four years ago. Tooth fairy phone call request put following formal procedure. Next morning... *shock, horror* tooth still under pillow NO CASH. Whoopsie. Cue quick response team. I call toothy (we are on a first name basis, oh and the phone is a hot pink Barbie phone left by Santa we think, was found at our shop, never claimed and then, surprise surprise, I was mucking around with it and found it was a TOOTH FAIRY HOTLINE PHONE!), she answers. Clearly from the cursing and tone, suffering a gigantic fairy headache! The story screamed down the line was like this. Foggy night, toothy knocking back some morning dew to keep warm, went a little overboard and was feeling a tad off her game, flies in about to head inside, hits spoon someone left in potplant near front door (another story, but something to do with a large party at Madmother mansion), ricochets backwards dropping coin on front step, flies off mumbling dire threats about stoopid humans and tooth addiction... WITHOUT TOOTH RETRIEVAL!  She was not happy and told me to keep the money and shove it where the sun don't... Ah, well. Suffice to say not a happy fairy.

• Then there is of course Eldred. As this is a recent post (read: one Madmother can link easily), I'll let you look at it yourself if you so wish.

• The magic monster eating dogs. If you've headed over to Martyr-hood's post, you'll see a mention of monster spray. Now, I don't know of any mother who is not aware of monster spray. But sometimes those damn beasts are a little harder to banish. Well, we have a secret weapon. Monster-eating dogs. Yep, fully certified, monster mashing approved, monster rip-'em-up, chew 'em down, digest-'em-well, eating canines. So no big monsters ever made it in our house, and the few pesky teeny ones, well of course they got *poofed* by the spray quick smart. Pretty good secret weapon in the monster removal stakes, let me tell you. Small issue in re-training not to aggravate royal dragons and teaching them the difference between monsters and other magical visitors, but hey, what's a few scales between friends?

Okay, am running out of time so this will be all of the tall tales for today. And as it is a Friday I'm hoping to link this to a FlogYo Blog list... somewhere, somehow. No bullshitification.

Come back to add... found FYBF - see link above. Being hosted by Glowless atm. Oh, and the Tork awards? I tied for second with the great Mumstrosity. Just lettin' ya know. Cheers.

FYBF - Shameless Hussy & Disqus Discontent

Yeah, here I am on a Flog Yo Blog Friday shamelessly hawking for votes. What for, the thousands of new readers, may ask? "Well,' I humbly reply, "for this:

Blog This Challenge 67 "

Yes, voting has opened. So follow the link in above post and look at ALL the entries and then vote. Preferably for me. I did mention shameless, didn't I? Well I am. And competitive. Bahahahahahahahahaha...

I also wish to lodge a formal complaint to the many of you whom I follow who have chosen to jump into Disqus. Yes, the commenting system. I HATE IT! It won't let me sign in under my login (yes, I do have a Disqus log in, but it has some personal issue with me and won't let me use it most days). EVERYTIME I want to comment I have to go through the blah, blah, blah... enter e-mail, enter username, enter website crap. And it won't put my lovely picture in either, just leaves me as a mere shadow of my vibrant self. NOT HAPPY JAN!

Why do so many of you like this system? What am I doing wrong? It is like being the geeky one in plaits and glasses hanging around the edge of the huddle, trying desperately to break through to see what the cool kids are giggling, chatting and circling about.

Come on guys - LET ME IN!

Or else I'm sending the shark after you. Hey If I'd do it to my kid, I'd do it to you!

Now, as linky seems to have changed its rules, I don't know if FYBF is on. But this is mine anyway, linky list or no linky list. After all, I'm quite pracised at tanties now. Just sayin'.

FYBF - Reserved...

I had something light and fluffy planned, amongst the regular mentioning of Auction for Lori. I had some trivial, funny post in the back of my mind. Then I read Lori's latest and all the meaningless drivel vanished. How could I post anything inane when this brave, incredible woman is baring her soul in her darkest moments, helping rip the covers from the hidden, secret, tragic depths of mental illness and depression, and even more confronting, throwing out the taboo of mentioning suicide.


And so it is a very different post I will be adding to FYBF.

Many know I lost my sister, the flame-haired hellion, to asthma at age 19. What you do not know is we nearly lost her at 15. My sister was always a passionate creature, fiery rages one minute, heartbreaking tears the next. She loved quickly and deeply, and her series of serious boyfriends started at 13.

One such boy I still consider the love of her life. He was a nice boy, lived with his grandmother, was polite and friendly and open. Calm and confident, a perfect foil for FHH. Good looking too, and rode a motorbike. They had been going steady for nearly two years when his best mate was killed in a motorbike accident. It was an emotional, grief-filled, raw time for this young man, and to be honest, the trivial hystrionics from the red head became too much. I think if this tragedy had not occurred, they would have grown up and matured together, and still be in a relationship.

But it did. And my sister was heartbroken. Six months later she had tentatively accepted it was over and had begun dating again. She was seeing another boy, a bad boy this time. He seemed to thrive on and provoke the dramatic arguments. Then one day my sister and I were home, Grumblebum was up in his shed, Wise Woman was out. I was 12. My sister shut me out of her room, a normal occurance. The phone rang, and as she did not re-appear to answer it as she usually would, I did. The new boy. He asked for her. I went, knocked on her door, slowly opened it quietly calling her name. She lay sleeping on her bed.

I went back to the phone and told him she was sleeping. He insisted I wake her, "oh great" I thought.

The images still run like a slow motion picture through my mind. I put the receiver down once more. Go to her door, open it calling louder. No answer. I figured she is playing possum just to annoy me. Move to side of bed, shake her. Nothing. Screw this for a game, I give her a shove then pull open one eyelid.

And scream as her eye rolls back into her head. I run back to the phone crying "I can't wake her, I can't wake her."

"Get your PARENTS now!" I hang up.

I run out the back door screaming for Dad. He comes down and within minutes we have the ambulance and doctors trying to rouse her, checking her vitals. Thank God for living next door to a private hospital, thank God for the ambulance station round the corner.

She remained in a coma for many days, as we scoured the house to find the pills of death she had overdosed on. All because of a boy. Not the new one, no. The old one. He had a new girlfriend we later found out.

After being hospitalised for nearly two weeks she came home.

Attempted suicide. The scars burn deep. Especially for those around the victim. That is why what Lori is doing is important. Spreading awareness by sharing her pain. As we all should, for it is the unspoken that can kill. Looking back the signs were there. Feint, but there. Hindsight is 20/20 vision, and if it were not for the timing of one phone call I would have lost my sister that day.

I had four and a half more years with her; important, precious time for our whole family.

 

Please, please talk to people if you are feeling desperate. I know it is not easy, but death is final and the pain can never be healed.

 

This is my FYBF - God bless you Lori for removing the veil.

How Can We Ever Know What The Universe Plans?

I thought I'd be coming back in to FYBF after a lovely healing week of holidays with my family, but find the universe (as always) has other ideas. Today I am posting whilst my thoughts are consumed by another, our darling Lori at RRSAHM. If you have read my last post you will know her husband is in ICU (no updates or details yet) and this beautiful little family needs our thoughts, prayers; and if you can and want pop over to Kirsten's blog to add financial help into the equation.

Most of us have experienced that horrible bedside wait, no matter where in the world a hospital is they are all the same under the cloak of darkness. The quiet only broken by a monitor, the smell of antiseptic masking other far more distressing smells, the desperate fear that overrides all logic as you wait. And the joy and ecstacy as you walk through those front doors with your loved one to freedom.

Today, it is the image I am  holding in the front of my mind for Lori and Tony. Walking away together, whole and healed. It may be days or weeks, but I have to believe it will happen. It WILL happen.

The Rules (according to the big boss - Lori, previously Brenda, and for today, Kirsten)Follow my blog, the Random Ramblings of a SAHM. I never seem to get to reading all the links here. But believe me, I try. Not that any of this is my idea anyway- FYBF is MummyTime's brainbaby. I stole it.


1. Grab the bubbly button and post it on your sidebar.
2. Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your post or blog.
3. Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post.
4. Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
5. The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
6. A new and fresh link list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week.
7. And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).


Ripping off my stuff- including these rules- makes baby Jesus cry. If you are doing your own blog hop, please write your own rules. You know who you are.