FYBF - The Early Hours

I have no idea what the theme will be for today's FYBF. I have no inkling of what I should be writing of. It is 4.30 in the morning and I am up insolently insomniacing again.




I do not suffer from this as frequently as I once did, or maybe it is a lull in my slackening sleep cycle... a minute respite in the big scheme of my life? But it does not matter, for here and now I am awake once more.

I am not here often nowadays. The driven need for the written word has left me; well, that and the fact that I am quite aware of the poisonous eyes who peruse these pages, yearning for a tainted titbit, a morsel of information they can take and twist, a last minute grasp of evil to be used before we leave the school by which we are connected.
 *Waves* Grins* Laughs at how powerless and small these amoeba women are*

My life and the joy in it must seriously frustrate the fuck out of those two.

Life moves on.

It is 4.30am.

My younger son, for all the turmoil of this year and the actions of those who should know better, aced his Year 7 NAPLAN. Seriously ACED. My older son is blossoming more and more, thriving in the hothouse nature of his small private high school, the nurturing, student-focused, positive atmosphere suiting him to a tee. And he has a lead role in the local drama group's play. My son with ASD has a LEAD ROLE IN A PROFESSIONAL PRODUCTION.

I still miss my mum.

Oh, and my body is aging faster than my paper years. Which is why I wrote this:

*Madmother Ode*

I went off to me doctor

To get me bits all right

She prodded and she poked

Those bits all outa sight

Made me go have pictures

Of inside and of out

Drained me of my blood stuff

(All Twilight fans be proud)

Then she sat me down hard

Solemn and so glum

Told me I was broken

And need to stop me fun

Revealed my knees are dodgy

Some new ones needed soon

And no more derby dancing…

Well, that threw me into gloom

She hauled me off my grog too

Many, many months ago

But whilst my liver smiles more

There’s still a way to go

But I ain’t some little fairy

Not delicate and such

Not gonna go so quietly

It’s time to make a fuss

So, knees just suck it up loves

And liver, you’ll be fine

And if the pain is too much

I’ll just increase the wine!

~Copyright Madmother~

Apologies to those who already read it on FB.

Enough of the drivel. It is now nearly 5am and I am waiting for the sun to rise. We need to order water. We need to go to work. We need to ready the boys for the last day of the second last term of the year.

That is all folks. Toodles!

Life Wasn't Meant to be Easy!

So much going on, so many emotions floating around this world.

Grief, conflict, bitterness, bittersweet memories, stress. Mania!

Fingers in too many pies still - madly organising multiple businesses.

I don't like being a grown up.

I don't like having to think of so much.

My head hurts, and not from anything good.

*Sigh*. I thought 2012 was meant to be better?

Weekend Grateful: Are we, yes?

To be honest I was tempted to link up my FYBF post from Friday, as in reality it sums up one of my big reasons to be grateful one, two, three.

But then in fear of the wrath of Maxabella, and knowing there is more to it, I decided to post a separate Weekend Grateful.

I have much to be grateful for in my life, and the more I look around at what others face, the more I realise just how much. Think I'll take a leaf out of Ms Maxi's book and make a list for you all to sit and go "Awwwwww" at, m'kay?



Melbourne Cup 2011

1. I have a wonderful husband, Big Boy. Many around us are going through hard times in their relationships for many reasons, many a night we sit on our lounge and ponder. I guess one of the main things we talk about is how very lucky we are to have each other and to agree on so much. Don't get me wrong, we are not perfect and we argue, and there are times I want to bury him in the lime pit under the avocado tree... oh, did I say that out loud? Whoops. Okay, we are human but when it comes to the big stuff we are two peas in a pod.  You can vomit now. 



Madmother house 2011

2. We live in a beautiful part of the world, in a lovely home, hidden away from the world at large. And we are lucky enough to own our property in these times of financial hardship. Alright, the bank shares in owning it but you get what I mean.

Boys Sept 2011

3. Kids. Our kids. What can I say? They are intelligent, handsome, quirky, unique, frustrating, boundary-pushing, wonderful boys. We have the most amazing conversations, and when I say they make my brain hurt I am not kidding! Surely I didn't do this to my parents? I didn't query the world and question the big things? Did I? Oh. That's right. I did. Payback is a bitch.

Me and one of my besties 2011

4. Our friends. So very, very many incredible, loyal, fun, special people in our life. In fact, so many that we never seem to have enough time to be with them! And the circle is growing and growing as we get to know their friends and the friends of friends!

Party time

Home - right here, right now!

5. Life opportunities. One door closes, another opens. Life is change and change is good. Most of the time. Says a woman who hates change. Meh.

I could keep going but I'm not going to. Instead I am going to go cook bacon and eggs for my three fantastic boys, after which we are tackling the Dr Who Board game before going outside to garden and have some fun.

Toodles!

What are you Grateful for? Go, join in the fun... it is good to sit and look at the good in your life sometimes.

Weekend Grateful: Dreams.

We all have dreams, but sometimes those dreams seem to be so far beyond our mortal reach that we stop before we even begin to try and attain them.

http://www.genyrants.com/

And at other times they feel so tangible you feel able to reach out and grasp them with both hands.

Right now I am sitting smack, bang in the midst of the latter camp.

Dreams coming to fruition.

An unbearable lightness of being.

http://www.youwall.com/

A release from all the baggage that was grounding me, wingless. For now my wings are unfurled and ready for flight. My inner self is happy dancing - I confronted one of my misery demons and told her a few home truths. Amazing what speaking out against the vile shadow boxers will do, I think more than anything it was being unable to defend myself that ate at my soul. The final shackles have fallen away, and now I am helping others break those chains of hate to free themselves too! Such a feeling, mere words cannot do it justice.

Image: http://www.bibliotecapleyades.net/sociopolitica/breakingthechain/tobefree.jpg

My boys are doing especially well, academically and socially. When all is good in their world, all is good in mine. Boy 1 has incredible things going on, he is even performing a little feature in the Grade 7 graduation dance - pretty damn schmicko for a boy on the spectrum. There is more, but I cannot spill until we are further down the track, but it could be HUGE for my young man. I will let you in on the details once all is signed, sealed and delivered.


Boy 2 has become a LAN party guru. Each month we have up to 12 boys in our games room, all signed in to one network, creating cities in a game called MINECRAFT. Yes you mine. And build, and forage and till. A world unto itself. The phone rings hot for Boy 2 nowadays. He is thriving in friendship.

We have big changes on the horizon, amazing things are happening. You already know of our change of direction with closing our retail store. December 17th is our last day of storefront trade, though the website will continue until all stock is gone. Our lives are evolving, and I know in my heart Wise Woman is watching, smiling, pushing as forward onto new horizons.

Life is dazzling.

So people, dream big. For nothing is impossible. We are only just finding it all out. This is my weekend grateful.

A Dawning of A New Day...



Sunrise over the mountain 4/10/11



Today is the first day of the rest of my life. Today things are a changing. Today we announce to the world we are closing the doors of our retail store. Ten years we have had this business. A decade of hard work, building relationships, fighting against the odds. It certainly is not the easy, walk in the park so many consumers assume retail is. We have never been rolling in it, nor made the gazillions in profit so many assume us greedy entrepreneurs make.

It may not have made us our fortune, but it has bought us flexibility at a time in our lives it was crucial, it has bought us a family life, and more importantly, it has given Big Boy the chance to be what he could never have done successfully if he had stayed a senior exec... a Dad. And oh, what a Dad he is!

We have seen many others hit the wall, so many have closed their doors and walked away with nothing but debt, bankruptcy and failure.

We have not. In fact, if the GFC had not hit, we would have had this business on the market two years ago. It is a good business, built on honest sweat and effort. But it is time to move on.

Since Wise Woman passed nearly 12 months ago, we have been madly juggling her businesses and ours. Doing nothing well. Something had to give. So rather than hanging on another two or three years waiting for a buyer, we made the difficult choice to close down.

We are lucky. Whilst it carries some debt it is something we can manage. It will cost us financially, but the thing we need the most in our lives is time. Doing nothing properly and running, running, running is not helping anything nor anyone - this is the best solution for OUR family.

A new day, a new era, a new life in so many ways.

Oh, and yesterday I bought my ticket and booked my accommodation - look out Digital Parents Conference 2012... I am on my way! Woot.

42

The meaning of life. Right now I am pondering the meaning of life here at this blog. What do I want from here? What is this blog to me, or more importantly to others?

When I began this blog over two years ago the community was small, tight, supportive. Now so much of it is about earning potential, stats, hits, comments, followers.

I have never been one to run with the crowd and crowded the blogosphere has become.

Is this why I am not drawn here as I once was? Is it why I do not have the yearning to write like I once did?

Maybe it is because I am writing my tales of fantasy for my dear friend, sending them off with love. Maybe that is filling the hole once satisfied by blogging?

Maybe I am sick of commenting and supporting those who offer none back? Only some, not all, but their silence pisses me off to be perfectly honest.

Maybe I feel the blogosphere is not the place I need to look to for ideas, ideals, friendship?

Maybe it is time for change.

I just don't know anymore.

Amazing Grace, How Sweet The Sound

Was blind, but now I see.

I walk arm in arm with my sons. At an age where it is considered uncool to hold your mother's hand, arm, hand my two do not hesitate. As we walk we talk. "Did you hold Nanna's hand when you were our age, Mum?"

"Yes" I answer, then begin to laugh.

"What?"

And so I tell them. My mother had severe sight issues from my first memory. She, her best friend and my Grandmother had sat for hours in her terrace house childhood home and watched the welders work below in the factory next door. Back then it was not common knowledge that such unprotected viewing would cause permanent and irreversible damage. My mother was the worst affected of the three.

That term... bottle top glasses? Well, those were hers. So thick that her beautiful brown eyes were distorted behind them.

As a teenager in the 1930's she loved going to the beach. It was even more appealing as she could use her sunglasses to hide her vision issues from the coolness of a teenage world. Yes, even back then people with perceived weaknesses were teased, it did not help that she was not only stunning but chronically shy.

As she grew older her sight grew worse. By the time I was a teenager my mother had been considered legally blind for quite a few years.

I grew up walking arm in arm with my mother. I never developed teenage embarrassment, for I knew when we walked together if she did not have hold of my elbow she would trip, fall, be hurt. To the casual observer it merely looked as if our arms were linked in affection (as they were). They did not hear the running commentary between us...

"Kerb, Mum."

Copyright Madmother - 1986

"Ramp, Mum."

"Car coming."

Now to the reason I laughed. As I grew older we always joked I was escorting her nicely limited Mastercard across the road. Once I graduated and hit my middle 20's the joke was switched to her escorting MY Mastercard across the road as the limit was higher than hers.

This was the story I told my children yesterday.

"Wow Mum. You have more than one credit card so we both have to escort you and your purse across the street then!" This from my impish younger. The older just laughed. And both tightly linked their arms a little harder through mine.

I lived my whole life with a loving mother who was sight compromised. Now my very best friend is facing the same. Her children are six and nine (nearly), and she is now classed as legally blind. Retinitis Pigmentosa. A genetic eye condition that causes the light-sensitive retina, located at the back of the eye, to degenerate slowly and progressively.

She is beautiful, positive and a wonderful joy to be around. She cannot see kerbs or stairs or the joy in her children's faces if they are not right next to her.


Like my Mum, she has days when it gets to her, when her dreams of the future are clouded and dim. But, again, like Wise Woman, these are rare.She does not want pity, she wants life. We tend to joke about it, though there are times when laughter does not help.


When she told me of her diagnosis I could tell she was over the pity party others had been throwing for her.


"Okay, so not good?"


"Nope. Didn't want to tell you before, didn't want our friendship balance to be compromised with you feeling sorry for me."


"You just didn't want to tell me all those times we went out and got blind you really were!"


When she stopped laughing...


"Oh hell, I knew I should have told you before the others..."


"Hey, don't worry, at least I have someone to give Mum's talking books to when she's gone."


"Oh, you are bad, seriously bad. Thank you."


See, both these women in my life were alike. Determined, positive, strong. For all my years with my mother I am now able to support, console, listen, arse-kick, and just understand what my friend is going through. And when things get hard I remind her of the 90 year old still managing to do her tax on exel. On a REALLY big computer screen, yes. On the biggest font you can imagine, yes. On the highest view limit available, yes. But still determined and capable. Right up to the end. If you make your mind up you can do anything... it just may be that you have to approach it a different way from before.

Copyright Madmother - May 2011

Oh, and as my friend's credit card limit is higher than mine, I just might have to escort her carefully across busy roads for years to come.

Weekend Grateful - The Best

From this (3 weeks of age 1998),

to this:

I love you my son, and on your 13th birthday I am truly grateful for your presence in my life and the lessons you have taught me and everyone who crosses your path on this journey.

Thank you Maxabella, for reminding us we need to stop and give thanks.



Memoir Monday - BOO! .

Only my love of the big Trav could draw me back to post a Memoir Monday whilst on holidays. Yes, you read it right, *cough*, holidays. Madmother has run away to her home of the heart to enjoy time with the family, catch up with old, dear, uh, did I mention old?, friends.

So, here I am sitting in my kitchen (this one) scroll down trying write a Memoir. The sadness of recent times has lifted being back on home turf. It is true, you can take the girl out of the valley but you sure can't take the valley from the girl. And being back in the area I grew up in has triggered a long forgotten tale. Or more - but I'll save the second one for next week.
So I present for your entertainment:

The Tale of Bluey.

Once upon a time... Oh, hang on, this isn't a fairy tale, whoops. This is a tale of a ghost. Maybe. A nearly forgotten tale from my misspent youth.  A couple of days ago we went out to a nearby (as in an hour's drive) friend's beach house. Now this mansion overlooks one of the haunts (hee hee) of my younger days - Blueys Beach.

Now when Madmother motored out to this spot it was truly in the middle of nowhere  - old farm house amidst cow scattered paddocks rolling on down from headland to beach. Glorious, untouched and decidely spooky in the late hours with only a bonfire to keep us teenagers company.

It was in these giggling, end of school/edge of adulthood, relationships-burgeoning evenings that I first heard of Bluey's Ghost. Over the dying embers the boys liked to put the fear into us wanna-be cool girls. It may have been in the hope of us scurrying closer under salt-crusted towels, or it may have been in sheer mischief, who knows. But in hushed tones the legend was slowly, spine-chillingly revealed as we sat wide-eyed around the dying embers. 

The ghost of Bluey was said to appear as a lantern-carrying apparition walking down the headland over the rocks and along the beach in the dark of night. Light swinging from side to side, if you stared closely enough you could make out the burley shape of the stumbling old man holding it high, peering into the gloom. Or so they said.

Many theories abounded about Bluey. One said he was an old farmer who helped many a ship-wrecked sailor in the old days, wading into the treacherous surf to pull the men to safety when their ships flounded until one day the angry sea took him to its depths. Another said he was a local fisherman who went looking for his wife and her smuggler lover only to drown as he waded after their boat alternately screaming obscenities and begging her to come back. The third, far more boring theory is that it is a hoard of fireflies who group together on the still summer nights when the conditions are right. This one was offered by our resident geek of the group, to many jeers and calls to shut up. Personally I think it would take one hell of a big party of bugs to look like a lantern, but that is just my opinion.

So, the other day as we sat on top of the hill in this beautiful house I told the story of Bluey to four boys with faces full of fearful fascination. I offered them all three explanations, and left it up to each to decide which they chose. As I will you. Who do you think Bluey was? Or what? This is my Memoir Monday.

Oh, and yes, I have seen the light. Bahahahahahahahahaha...

Madmother? Wasn't she...

That woman who had a blog? Oh, hang on, didn't she have more than one? Wonder whatever happened to her?

Yeah - that's the one. Cheeky devil, but I think that photo is from quite a few years back when she still had her spunk and spark. Wonder where she is now, she just seemed to vanish into the ether...

Oh well, I'll just move on to the next blog that tickles my fancy.

Ever wonder if this is what will happen to you? So many bloggers seem to come and go, the blog muse is a fickle creature who abandons even the most prolific of us. Remember Kellyansapansa? Kellywhat I hear some newer folk asking? Kellyansapansa was a shining beacon in blogworld until moving onto other lives. Melissa at Things I'd Tell You is another popular blogger who has hit the real life sucks wall. And as for me, well I didn't even have the energy to go to most of my writing course let alone blog. *Sigh*.

Destined to become a mere passing comment in years to come... "Madmother? Oh, yeah, I remember her..."

Blog This Challenge 60 - Life's Hard Lessons

Life is Too Short

Blog This Challenge 60

One of the certainties in life is death. My mother, Wise Woman, always told me life is too short, make the most of it, do not let the small bad things detract from the big wonderful ones. This is the hardest of lessons you will ever learn. I guess it is another way of saying stop and smell the roses.

God decided to try and instil this one in me at a young age of fifteen. He took my sister. Suddenly, brutally, bang - gone! My whole life changed and I became an only child. My parents fell apart and I, the only remaining child, had to attempt to keep our lives functioning in some semblance of normalcy. It was my first life lesson in grief, and my initial experience of life IS too short. Other losses followed, and today I am once more living this life lesson. I buried my mother on Tuesday. The woman who gave me a life has left mine. Not in my heart or my head but in the physical.

Some of you are sitting, reading this and wondering "why on earth at such a time as this would she be doing this challenge?" Simple. Because one of the biggest ideals my mother has left me with is so very important: Life is short. She would hate me feeling the way I do (and I do, believe me, right now I feel like my guts have been ripped out), and be telling me to look at my blessings. They are many. I had a wonderful mother who loved me deeply and shared my life for nearly forty seven years, I have a beautiful family, we live in a glorious part of the world, I have true, loyal friends who support me and hold me above the waves when I sink.

This is not coming out as I intended. What I am trying to tell you is to love those near as much as you can. Hold them, laugh with them, live with them. In the moment. The bills will end up paid, that job will eventuate, the problems will be resolved. Sometime. Children grow up, people die, life changes so EACH new day take time to smile, feel good about yourself, change those things that drag, take control of life on your terms. Live, Laugh, Love. A very Wise Woman once taught me those very things.

FYBF - In The Wee Hours of The Night

The Rules are here. She says it so much better than I ever could.

I know Flog Yo Blog Friday is meant to be funny and lighthearted but I just don't have any humour inside me at the moment. Life is challenging, but even worse when you add sleep-deprivation into the equation.

I woke with heart pounding, gasping for breath at 1am. Up until now there have been sleep issues, but not as severe as this nightmare induced panic attack in the cold of just past midnight. I dreamt of her. I dreamt she was dying. My thoughts were of her struggling to breathe, each rasping, painful breath slower than the last.

The terrifying thing is that this is not so far from the truth for now Wise Woman has a chest infection and we all know how susceptible the elderly are to pneumonia. Add in her emphysema and we have serious issues.

I have been coping well, running on pure adrenalin as Ro said, but am I dealing with the thought of losing her? I don't know. It is a very real risk right now. She will be 91 on Tuesday, every little health problem erodes her already frail grasp on life, and I know she does not wish to be here with no quality of existance. Death comes to us all and logically I know at her age I should be very grateful to have had her in my life with so much joy in hers for so long.

But humans are not only logical creatures, we are emotional beings and I want to know how on earth I get my head and heart around losing someone who created me. Not in life (as we all know I am adopted), but by moulding my very core to be who I am. How do I ever reconcile myself to letting go to the one person who loves me unconditionally. How do I say goodbye to my mother?

This may not be it. I hope and pray the miracle woman floors the professionals one more time and fights back to quality of life. But it will be one day. And I do not know if I can face it. Ever.

Revelations 101

It has been an interesting week to say the least. Had a lovely dinner out with a few of the girls which culminated in a conversation which I found intriguing at best, puzzling at worst. This lovely lady is someone I have known for a few years, but not well. We cross paths on a regular basis but have only really socialised a couple of times. You know, someone you know but don't know well... Somehow the chat swung around to her impression of me. All the usual stuff... strong, outspoken, a fighter/advocate/zealot... but then she throws in: wait for it,

insecure?

Now I must admit this one puzzled me. Don't get me wrong, I am as flawed as the next person, and yes have my vulnerabilities and weak spots, but insecure? To me this represents self-doubt, a lack of confidence, uncertainty... not attributes I see as a big part of my character. Hell, I screw up - monumentally sometimes - but I usually acknowledge the stuff ups and will apologise when in the wrong. Hmmm, insecure, nope don't see it. Luckily the other couple of ladies know me very well, and basically disagreed with her perception of moi, so at least I am sure it is not something I am missing seeing within myself.

Then we went with friends to our little rural show the next day. Saw a lot of locals, managed to briefly catch up with a lot of friends I haven't had time to say boo to of late, and touched base quickly with a dear mate and her other half who were working a stall. Was dang cold so we gave up the idea of hovering for the fireworks and instead opted for some steaks, a roaring fire, good company and fine wine.

Big Boy later brings up a conversation he had with said dear friend at the show. Apparently she is confused about my coping mechanisms with all the crap that has hit our family recently. Confessed she thought I would be wanting to unload, talk, vent on a regular basis. That I would need my girlfriends to debrief with.

To be honest I couldn't think of anything worse. Is it just me? Am I the only woman in creation who would prefer to deal with the situation, get on with it, and then try to forget about it for a while? Last thing I want to do is re-hash the whole tiresome debacle again and again. I am blessed in my partner, and as he is a part of the whole thing isn't it normal that he and I would discuss the issues as they arise, then put them to bed?

I have no choice but to go over events following the professional complaints process, maybe that is why I do not have a need to discuss them with mates? Far better to chill with a glass of Marlborough white watching trash TV than to be treading water in a sea of emotion constantly. Sorry, just not my style to wallow. Well, most days anyway.

Some days I wonder just how well people really know me...

Things that make you go: Hmmmm...

Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

You just can't see it sometimes.

A sharp tongue can cut your own throat. Take the time to think before you speak, for words cannot be taken back once said.

Of all the things you wear, your expression is the most important. Not clothes, nor makeup or jewellery. A smile will set you apart and give you a unique beauty others will envy.

The best vitamin for
making friends: B1.

All it takes is a simple
"hello, how's your day?"

The heaviest thing you can carry is a grudge... Do you really want to?

One thing you can give and still keep...is your word. Your word is your reputation - once broken it is difficult to repair.

You lie the loudest when you lie to yourself.

If you lack the courage to start, you have already finished.

Your mind is like a parachute...it functions only when open.

It is never too late to become what you might have been.

Life is too short to wake up with regrets...

 Love the people who treat you right.

Forget about the ones who don't.

Believe everything happens for a reason.

If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it.

Nobody said life would be easy,
they just promised it would be worth it.

Friends are like balloons. Once you let them go, you might not get them back.

Sometimes we get so busy with our own lives and problems that we may not even notice that we've let them fly away. Sometimes we are so caught up in who is right and who's wrong that we forget what is right and wrong... Sometimes we just don't realize what real friendship means until it is too late. Be a true friend, and others will to you. The ones who don't are not worth a second thought or a single tear. All they deserve is pity.