Conundrum

At the start and the end of every day I am disappointed. I’m disappointed that I ate too many biscuits, too many toasted cheese sandwiches, too many kids left over toasted cheese sandwiches and too much pasta. I’m disappointed that that bulge around my hips and waist is still keeping me company. I am currently the heaviest I have ever been (maybe even during pregnancy!) and I am not enjoying it. I recently went to the gym for 12 months. This was a real achievement for me as I had never even set foot in one before, literally. I really enjoyed it, I developed muscles and I felt good. It helped my physical and mental health beyond measure. But I stopped going a couple of months ago.

Put all those pieces together and the answer seems obvious. I’m an idiot. What is going on??? Why is it soooo hard to do the “right thing”? Am I lazy? Do I harbor some deep rooted need to sabotage myself and fail? Am I such a self-sacrificing mother that I put everyone else first and myself last? (not likely).

I suspect I am not alone in this battle which is why I’m airing my vulnerabilities and failings on this blog. Maybe my ponderings may help someone else, and maybe someone might have some suggestions for me. Although I warn you, I am NOT good at taking advice!

Out of my mind

In my attempts to change the world I am sometimes a little bit over zealous in my ‘yes’ saying. Only sometimes though. I’m never quick to ‘yes’ when it comes to parties or camping or babysitting or marathons. But if it’s something that puts me in a position of authority/power/influence then I can’t help myself.

At the end of last year I nominated myself to be the Quality Assurance Coordinator on the Kinder Committee before my 4 year old had even had a single day of Kindergarten. And now I also find myself as the session rep for playgroup even though what I actually wanted to do was quit the group. Now I’m having sleepless nights because my little brain ticks over and worries about the details of pulling it all off without making a complete dick of myself.

I’m a huge believer in sustainability of sanity and lifestyle balance. I absolutely must have time in my life to stop and smell the roses (or at least, watch Masterchef) or I turn into a nut case. And yet I have dreams and abilities that I want to use and wow the world with. How do I do ambitious and mellow at the same time? It’s not a simple matter of trying to overcome laziness. Nor is it a matter of just getting more organized. It’s probably more about perspective. I think being able to step outside of myself more and be a little less emotional and internal about things is the key. At the risk of sounding weird, I find if I kind of move myself slightly out of my body, I feel like a slightly different person. It almost feels like when you lift your eyes from focusing on the computer screen to look up and out the window or at something on the far wall. As I lift myself slightly away from my knotted gut, my busy brain, my tight chest, I rediscover my capacity to cope. I remember I do have a few spare hours a term for the brief processing of playgroup fees and that in fact playgroup is a fantastic way of connecting with new people and helping others connect. I remember that I’m not alone on the kinder committee and that it’s actually fun and satisfying to be able to contribute to the life of such a terrific community organisation.

Now if only someone would teach my simpleton cat to let itself in and out of the house I might actually get some sleep.

Thinking Big

I was having a pre-bedtime cuddle with my 4 year old daughter last night and she must have heard me use a word that she liked the sound of. I heard her repeat the word in a whisper a couple of times, presumably to practice it or relish the feel of it in her mouth. And then she was silent for a good 10 seconds. She looked up at me with a smile and said, "Mum, I have talking in my brain!" I was halfway to diagnosing a schizoid personality disorder when I realised that she was talking about thinking.

There is so much about this moment that I love! It makes me wonder at the incredible development of the human brain. Before we have adequate language skills I suppose we "think" without words. Is there a defining moment when we make the shift from not really thinking to some other kind of thinking to verbal thinking? Was this moment for my daughter something completely new for her? What I love the most is that she showed the capacity to think about thinking. It's a type of metacognition and for me it was a little nugget of gold. My little girl is growing up. With that kind of wondrous change in my life do I really need any other?

Performance Review

I love my girls. They amaze me, amuse me, excite me and challenge me. But I honestly don't love much about being a mum. There have been many days when I have wondered how I will get through another day of the constant demands and the lack of personal time and quiet. I feel the burden of making good decisions and being strong in my discipline setting and facilitating healthy habit development of the girls. As a mum you just can't escape the awful truth that you are imperfect and that you can't create perfect kids. It's somewhat of a disappointment and an exhausting realisation.

The other thing about being a mum is that it's your job and yet it's not. You do actually work harder than any other job, emotionally, and physically, at least in my experience. You don't get paid much. You don't get to hang out with adults, at least not coherent non-sleep deprived ones anyway. You usually don't get a lunch break and in many ways you don't even get to clock-off. It just keeps on going. And you don't get a performance review, so you don't really know how you are going and where you are going. No one points out your strengths and no one helps you identify and address your weaknesses (except your own mum if you are so "lucky").

I have enjoyed the last few days of motherhood more than any others that I can remember over the last 5 years. It's not very clear why. It could be that the girls are aligning developmentally so that they can actually enjoy playing together, without me. It could be due to the fact that I have changed my work days so now I am not working on Mondays. But what I suspect it might be due to is blogging. Reading other mothers' blogs and thinking and writing my own is a bit like having a chat in the tearoom. Suddenly I not only feel more connected with the outside world, but my work as a mum has been granted some level of objectivity. Mums that blog are opening themselves up to an informal performance review. If you can see your role as mum more like a job then I think it helps you to hang on to yourself as yourself - a woman with skills and talents, dreams and ambitions, loves and hates. Knowing that what you write might be read by someone else in your "profession" allows a healthy self-consciousness and self-analysis that can lift you out of the isolation of home duties. It seems to be working for me.

TV Rules

If you can't find the self-discipline to floss your teeth regularly, meditate, or keep the herbs and spices in the right order, it pretty much only affects you. But when it comes to parenting, if you "can't be bothered" with something you are messing with someone's future capacity to function successfully in society. Let me illustrate.

Humans require food. Without food we die. So a good parent who does not want their child to expire desires their child to eat. So a parent with a child who refuses to eat what is supposed to be the "best" food, at the "best" time sitting at the "best" place would understand the temptation to let their child stuff their mouth whilst under the trance of the (whisper) television. If you don't have a child such as this, you will be appalled at this point and will probably never come back to my blog, except to show your other perfect friends what bad parents actually look like.

Anyway, I decided that maybe it was time to crack down on this practice. I was having flash-forwards to images of my grossly obese girls at 24/22 years of age watching whatever the equivalent is of Twilight in 2030 on the couch with a plate of rice cakes, cheese sticks and Tic Tocs. Not to mention how sick I was of crumbs on the floor. So I reintroduced the rule of no food in the lounge room which, as I explained to my 4 year old, I had forgotten about... "silly Mummy!", I said with a forced laugh.

It's working out great. Now they get exercise too as they run back and forth from the kitchen table to have a bite and then run back to the TV. Genius parenting.

Boring

We have a savings account that was once enough for a house deposit. As the house price balloon has floated upward and out of sight, we are left standing gazing longingly into the sky, with nothing to do but spend our savings to ease the pain. Every month for the last two years I reckon we have had to dip in to that sacred account in order to maintain our "extravagant" lifestyle. Today I have created a new budget for the new financial year. I'm going to try and actually keep a weekly record of expenses to try and keep our spending under control.

As much as I love a bit of a project, doing the right thing with money is not a strength of mine. Being a true blue middle class Gen X-er I haven't had to fight for a whole lot to date. It was easy enough to get into Uni and not hard to get my first, second, third, or fourth job. So reining in my spending feels inhibiting and boring and not at all fun. I've even tried hard to find an iPhone App that will magically make saving money as easy and fun as Paper Toss. I guess I just need some good old fashion values. Now where did I put those....???

I could have a lolly-jar style guess the number of times I have created a budget and then failed to stick to it competition. Lots of people could enter and none might even win. It has been many, many times. But maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time the reality of the sinking dream of home ownership as I approach 40 may be enough to motivate me. Maybe it needs to be something else.

I want to change the world

I have a theory that we are all born with a desire to change the world. We are made with a little black box that is embedded deep somewhere, protected from the world. Its job is to propel us to invent, create, make. It is the magic seed that progresses the human race. It is the source of radical advocacy, social justice, education for the poor, gender and race equality. It can be credited with world records, award-winning novels and films, and the contents of the world's best and worst art galleries. Sadly it can also be thanked for mass murder, domestic violence and slashed train seats.

I was going to be a lawyer and fight the good fight. I was going to write a novel. I was also going to change the culture of schools in the northern suburbs to ensure that all kids learned to speak and read. I was going to introduce the teens of Kew to Jesus and turn their priorities up side down. I was going to listen to and comfort and heal the depressed. I was going to be an awesome mum who understood her own limitations and those of her children but loved them regardless.

At some point in everyone's life the little black box is exposed. Someone finds it. And what they do with it pretty much determines what it is used for into the future of the bearer's life. Is it scorned and shamed? Is it tarted up and worshipped? Is it held and honored? It might be found at 6 months, 12 years, 23 or 38 years. It might be buried on discovery or removed or deactivated. It might remain dormant and then rediscovered at a more conducive time. Perhaps it can even just tick away over a lifetime, melding with the tick of the heartbeat and pulse.

Without it a human is either boring, mean, or dead.

"What man actually needs is not a tensionless state but rather the striving and struggling for some goal worthy of him. What he needs is not the discharge of tension at any cost, but the call of a potential meaning waiting to be fulfilled by him." Viktor Frankl
 

Here I go again

I entered Blogland a few years ago and failed in my attempts to remain there. In fact my life has a drawer that is full of things I have attempted to achieve or even begin but have not. Let me confess a sample of them to you: a blog for/about my first child, reflective journals, mentoring, pelvic floor exercises, recipe scrap books, photo albums, a patchwork quilt, keeping up with old friends, the gym, a vegetable garden, cognitive behavioural therapy, a savings account for first born, birthday letters to my nephew, and of course, weight loss.

I have recently become critically aware of these failings and often feel somewhat overwhelmed by them. I have heard myself say to people that I have no capacity for change anymore. I told my husband that if he was ever going to meet his neighbours and do great things in other people's lives then he probably already would have. How depressing am I? Once upon a time I was a passionate speech pathologist/ youth worker/ counsellor, excited about the potential to bring about change in people's lives. I was once a poet who always had one eye and part of my brain and life immersed in a novel.

Last week I came upon a friend's blog. I fell in love with it. I have been thinking about it a lot since and have been wondering why I like it so much. It is a beautifully written and presented treasure trove of things to do with kids, easy family recipes, photos and thoughts. So far this week the girls have had pink, purple and blue bathtimes, and we have eaten the best roast lemon chicken I have ever tasted. Tomorrow I am going to try and find glycerine in the supermarket to make home made bubble mixture. And she links to countless other blogs of similar such domestic geniuses. But this is not what got my heart a-beating. These home-hints are all things that you can access from all sides of the planet within an instant on any search engine. I'll tell you what I think has most inspired me about it. This blog captures someone's capacity to express who they are. This woman is creative, fun, loving, smart etc etc. But she has three kids and a busy husband and over time has felt herself slip away. Her blog is bringing her back.

And so I too want to start a blog. But even as I thought those words, a voice is telling me - yeah right. Put it straight into that drawer of failures. I fight back. I am going to blog about my attempts at change, to see if maybe there is still some capacity for it in my exhausting, full, beautiful, imperfect life. I call it Loose Change. It will be a place for me to share and explore my relationship with change. I'm going to hold myself to it very loosely because I don't think I can handle yet another failure. The irony would be too much.