Dear NB

You know, audience of twelve, I’m not just a mama.

The truth is, I’m a proud aunt too.

And the thing is, my eldest niece is not only a cousin, she is also Cam’s truest, best friend.
The happiest moment of my life as a mother was, one day earlier this year, watching Cam and NB walking up the driveway to school, holding hands and talking.

It made my heart warm. You know, as a single mom to a single child, one of my biggest worries is that Cam may feel alone at some point in her life.

But, I’ve never had to truly worry about that. NB is just five months younger than my Cam. And they hold each others’ hands all the way through life.

Dear NB,

Thank you for being the cousin to my Cam that you are. Thank you for being the best friend to my Cam that you are. Thank you for making me so proud. Thank you for all your love for me. From your littlest moments at birth, to how you have grown into a graceful, gorgeous girl…I am proud of you. You have shown me immense love, and your little heart is just full of radiating joy.

Every day I am thankful for the time of your birth. Every day I am thankful that your mommy and daddy created you in love and gave me the greatest joy.

Every day I am inspired by your courage and your grace in life. Thank  you, precious girl.

I am an aunt to two children. Two beautiful children, who bless me so much.

Today, on NB’s birthday, I smile. Today my eldest niece is four.

Today I wish for her all the joys in world. Today I wish for her only love, only absolute glee in every day.

Today I am thankful that I am blessed to be an aunt.

Happy birthday NB.

I love you.

i loved

being here today.

 

thank you.

Dear Cameron, On Love

“Mom, look, Ariel’s going to marry Prince Eric and he’s defeated Ursula the sea witch and now they’re going to live happily ever after”, Cameron said, eyes all-bright and beaming at the prospect of yet another animated fairytale coming to its conclusion of sweethearts and rainbows.

I’m stuck questioning myself in this myriad of fairytales. I have always said that I would raise Cameron honestly. Protected from the nastiness of underbelly of life, as best I could but, honestly nonetheless. So how do I tame this wild belief in fairytales and demon-slaying princes?

The truth is she’s far too young to be jaded by my cynicism. My heart breaks though, when I think of the future. Of teenage crushes and the emotional crushing that beckons beyond that. Of love notes passed under desks and then crumpled into the bin once the infatuation passes.

How do I temper this fairytale mind? I don’t live the fairytale life. True, we’re happy as our little family of Mama and Cam, prancing around and singing ABBA loudly, whilst pigging out on ice-cream with sprinkles.

But the thing that sticks in my throat, beyond Cameron’s DVD collection, is my own collection of love stories and soppy chick flicks. There’s a moment in Love Actually that sums up the extraordinary thing. What’s the extraordinary thing, I hear you ask? It’s that moment where that man of your dreams, or flavour of the week, does the extraordinary thing. In Love Actually, it’s when Keira Knightley is serenaded by flashcard by her husband’s best friend at her front door. In Bridget Jones, it’s when Mark Darcy rescues Bridget from an impending doom in a Thai jail.

That’s the extraordinary thing. Every great love story has it. It’s when the Prince searches the country, desperate for his glass-slipper mate.

But, to me, the thing is. The thing is, that being swept off your feet often means you lose your ground. Sure, I’ve had my fair share of extraordinary things happen in my life – I have been incredibly lucky and blessed in that department. But, real love? Enduring beyond the extraordinary thing? Can I really tell my daughter that it does exist?

The truth is that I can’t answer that question. To me, the extraordinary thing has to be lived and loved every day. That’s enduring love. That’s the love I see between a friend of mine and her husband. That’s the love I want for my daughter, one day, when I let her out of the house. The extraordinary thing should be every day.

Maybe I’m setting impossible standards for my child. I’d like to think I’m not but, life experience shows me that I might just be. I’d like to think I’m promoting an attitude of not compromising herself for anyone else. I’d like to think I want to set the bar so high, that her prince (or princess, I’m not fussy) is truly worthy of her immense and awe-inspiring love.

They better be. Or else I’m setting my stun-gun to “annihilate”.

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this should scare me

this should scare me

but it doesn’t.

oh, honey, you’re my favourite

okay so it’s 1am. the parlotones are playing whilst i type this out on sheena’s laptop

.and yes. its been a long long time since i slept.

i’m okay with this.

tonight, sheena and i got home (its been a fucker of a day all round, trust me on this one…i even have a corne zit to prove it… shurrup sheena) and lay on the lounge floor and let loose.

there was remote karaoke, yes.

there was silly djing attempts, yes.

there was romeo and juliet – dire straits.

there was doth i protest too much – alanis morissette.

there was soo life without symmetry – mea.

there was even belinda. yes, belinda.

no dudes, there were no dildos involved.

there were highly embarassing photos of me and that alice band from 15 years ago.

there was a lot of emo.

it was literally, cathartic. or, in the spirit of this place, shathartic.

thank you my friend. through shit and through smit, us.

and then moose arrived in all his glory.

i think its time i let you know, blog.. i have no clue which planet this person came from. all i know is that the more i think about it, its the same planet ive spent my life being accused of living on. and oh my god i love it there.

every day, i worry if my greatness would wane. but, this person, somehow, like none ever could even begin to try, just knows. and doesnt question. just accepts. and moreover, embraces.

all of it. the shitty parts and the good ones too…yes, even the morose, saddest parts of me i try so hard to hide from the world. the part that spirals me into teetering over the abyss. he’s not afraid to hold my hand, look over at it and say “meh, it’s overrated, look seefood”.

maybe i’ve just never had someone accept my paradigm, and the everything that goes with it? does this post make any sense? who knows… i’m only human after all.

dear blog, i think it’s time i told you, that i feel safe with this person. i am not used to feeling safe. the truth is, i always have, from day 1, day 1, of the random massive crazy ohmigodwillyoutwoshutup, as shakti called it, day. sheena, weirdly, can verify that, for having to deal with me online that day going “HOOOOOLY FUCK. HOOOOLY FUCK” (i said it alot that day)

he feeds me, he spoons me, he gets it. he. gets. it. and. i. think. i. get. him.

a lot of the time, i wish i could hold up a mirror to him and show him how utterly divine he is. but, i know, he’d do as i do, and check his hair first. ‘as you are, as i am’.

i have a lot of secrets. little things i don’t tell people in case it scares them. i’m not scared with him.

every precious moment with him just makes me want to dance.

and, after all, we’re here to dance.

good night blog.

Dear Cameron. On Three.

You are three years old in less than twenty-four hours. Three.

I wish I could tell you how you have grown and how you have blessed me but, to begin to tally up what you’ve done and how you have done it, would be a list neverending.

In all that you do, in your life and your love, you do with grace. Even when you’re flashing your britney around the house and prancing around in your princess skirt.

You have strong beliefs. You’re stubborn. I like to think you get that from me. You’re forthright and not afraid to tell me how you feel. Your emotional honesty is the single most important thing you have taught me. And trust me, you’ve taught me more in three years than life has dragged me through in nearly twenty-eight.

You have learnt, but I tell you now, you’ve been the teacher all along.

You have believed in me on days and nights when I have not even known myself. When the world has been too big and loud for me and made me want to run away and hide.

This morning, all cuddled up in bed in your purple pyjamas (“Mama, we have the same pyjamas. Same Same”), you opened your eyes and your arms for a love. All for me.

“Mama, why do you kiss me so much?”

“Camcam, because I love you so much”

“Oh, okay. I’m going to kiss you so much now. Because I love you SOOO much”.

“I love you too Camcam”

“Mama, today I am going to be a spider”

“Okay, Camcam, and what is your name?”

“Mama, I am a superhero. I am spider Cameron”

Sometimes, when life gets too much for me, I bury my head in your curly locks, and inhale. There is so much peace in the chaos of your curls.

Mampa is your name for me. It’s the secret one, we don’t hear often. And when you say it, my heart trembles with pride.

Campai is our name for you. It’s the secret one, we don’t say often.

And when we say it, it means “congratulations”. It means “cheers”. It is symbolic of the ultimate present from the Universe that is you.

One day, when you grow up even more (heaven forbid), you’ll get it. You’ll get how it is to be a mom. How much I worry about the big wide world and how I want to protect you from every element of it. How letting go is the hardest part of being a mom. (and the books say it’s the adjusting to the lack of sleep. Waha. Not, hey).

My Cam-cam, you have made it easier. You are brave. So brave. Your resilience to life is without bound. You are more courageous than me, and you are just nearly three.

On the eve of your birthday, I won’t be sitting here thinking about how you know how to swim, or can count to twenty, or speak a million words all at once.

I’ll be sitting here thanking you for every second of your life, that has blessed me and your dad.

Yes, even that time you were so sick and vomited down my back at 3am. Yes, all of those times.

For all your joy and tears. For every time you say “I missed you Mommy”. For every time you say “I love you SOOO much”. For every time you take my hand, look up at me and say “Let’s go, mampa. I am not scared”.

For every night when you fall asleep with your finger firmly curled around my hair.

You are my superhero in princess skirt.

Thank you for choosing me to be your mama.

thank you, Matt, for this pic.

a tweet that made my week

i am so tired. i’ve been up since 4am.

i have done some pretty seemingly impossible things today.

i have been cursed and blessed over and over again, in circles and squares.

i have been crying. i am sad for the loss of two great people today.

i am worried. for the future, for the past, for the inbetween.

i have been smiled at, laughed at and yelled at.

i have fought with shite internet connections all day.

i have listened whilst many people grieve over people lost, fallen souls and ended hopes.

i have grieved for some of my own. i am clean of them now.

i have whined a lot and my flatmate from heaven has held my hand, even when she runs out of fingers to grasp on to.

my bossperson believed in me. even got down on the floor and bowed at my feet for making the impossible possible.

my friends have spoken and been there.

my mother understood how busy i was and yet, that i wanted so badly to listen and pray for the lost hippo. (yes, there’s a lost hippo. he’s on a beach. i hope he’s there for a holiday).

i am okay.

i know i did good things today. with faith, diligence and love.

but, this twitter,
this twitter made my week.

From: Ok. Just so you all know and there is no confusion: Cath Jenkin is a f&^%ing goddess. Disagree ? No one cares, you’re an idiot

just like i am.

i was recently asked why i say i have commitment issues.

truth is, i do. but not with commitment itself, or the notions of exclusivity and exploration but, rather, actually, this is gonna be a shocker folks – it’s just not been asked for in the right way for me, in many cases.

i don’t speak only in the typical, relationship sense. i mean it in any sphere of life.

currently, though, i find that its the people who ask commitment of me in atypical ways that have stuck around and that i want to stick around. they are the people to whom i am willing to commit time, energy, money, love. truth is, i have two of these things to give in abundance.

energy and love.

time and money, well that’s what we all lack, right?

in my experience with commitment, and hence my alleged commitment issues, it’s always been demanded from me, pulled from me, possibly even swindled. occasionally guilted out of me. i’ve done it too, in the past, but it always ended in an, and i quote “unpleasant manner”.

taking me at face value is far more beneficial than using your assumptions to guide getting what you want out of me. taking me just as i am has proven to be a far more exciting and joyful experience than trying to squish me into what you want me to be. in reflection back, i will always take you at face value. i don’t ride on agenda, or ponder your motives. i’m just going to take you as you are.

my point here is not some longwinded ramble on whether or not i have commitment issues. i think the crux of the matter here is that i don’t – i just have a little off-centre/atypical approach to it.

Further, it’s the people in my life – from those close to me, to my director, who have not only embraced this but moreover, i think, respond to it. they know they can rely on my commitment, because they know it’s
there. when i’ve decided on something, i’m in it, balls to the wall and wearing matching socks.

i will always have their back. they know who they are. i’m immensely grateful for their openness with me, being open to me, and open with me.

i’m honestly happy.

sotd – just like you are – fire through the window.

look over here bitches

yes, tis true, ive done a few things today

(a) survived it. if your name is sheena or matt, only you will find it funny that i am still intact, without organ removal and have not ingested any organs. funny but relieving. waha.

(b) started up here. why? because i want to. it’s a work in progress. please be patient, i learn slowly but, i do learn.

(c) had the world’s worst cab driver ever, ever, ever. it was a pretty funny situation though, in retrospect only.

(d) uncovered the great mystery of why i can never find the other sock. it’s been in cameron’s bag of stuff that is important for a while. hooray! found a sock.

(e) was inspired and came up with the name ZATweeple.

(f) watched Chris Rock twice and canned myself.

(g) ignored You. that was fun

(h) worked like the cheap bitch in a whorehouse. but, twas good.

(i) smiled alot. i blame you.

(j) survived the forest test with sheena. ended up in fits of giggles shouting “i choose the teddy! couldn’t find the fucking door!”

and now for tomorrow, i plan to finish up migration and do some work and well, see someone i have not seen in a long, long time.

gnite peeps. be good. compliance only leads to winning. thats winning, not whining. something that always gets me, when im being asked to be compliant is when someone says “sit still”.

i think of you even when you think im not.