Month: March 2014

Party!

Pending getting something official from the company, we will be moving to New Zealand on the 24th of April or thereabouts. Which only gives us three more full weeks in Sydney.

Friday this week is our wedding anniversary. It is ten years since the silliest wedding ever, and I love him more than ever. Despite being a tiny bit resentful about the stress of the past few weeks.

So we are going to have a little party. A picnic at Observatory Hill, the place we got married at all those years ago. From 11ish on the 6th April, bring a plate and blanket. If the weather is awful we will find a pub nearby.

Come and say hello if you haven’t seen us for years, and farewell as we journey off to the land of the long white cloud.

Consulting the hive

So we are getting further on in this “move to New Zealand” malarkey.

Initially, I agreed to 6 months. Then 8 months, and now it is looking more like they want us there indefinitely. So I started out thinking “we’ll get in a house sitter to care for the creatures”, and now I am thinking that they will all need to be cared for longer term.

And we’ll have to rent out the house.

Which freaks me out.

There is definitely a hoarder gene in my inheritance, and the last four or so years of bedrest and sadness seem to have inhibited my ability to throw anything out. Leaving me with a three bedroom house full of stuff I need to sell, chuck, rehome, store, or move. Everything needs to be sorted. I feel like the “before” of one of those hoarder shows.

Of course it’s not that bad, and once I get started I will probably overcome the paralysing terror. But in the meantime…

Does anyone know of a company, or a service, or a person that does organisation? Or have any other ideas of how I can tackle this fear. I’m not asking for offers of help – I’ve known for year that this is my crap and I have to deal with it myself, I just need a professional to guide the process along. Or a therapist!

Any ideas welcome!

Tentative moving date is the 23rd April. Five weeks.

Happiness

 

 Since Inigo started school we’ve had ups and downs. I’ve asked the school to challenge him academically so that he can have a sense of achievement and mastery of new skills, and I’ve tried to nudge him towards nice kids to help him out socially.
 
 I’ve given him days off when I really feel that he needs a break, and I’ve encouraged him to face up to the challenges of school when he just wanted to walk away. I’ve packed lunch boxes and washed clothes, sorted socks and supervised homework. I’ve been there at assembly, I’ve attended every parent meeting, I’ve done classroom reading and communicated with the teacher at least weekly, sometimes daily.
 
 And he hated school anyway.
 
 It comes down to this. We have raised a feminist. A boy who believes that all of us should be treated equally, and who is deeply affected by injustice. And he’s going to a school where the kids are already deeply conditioned into strict gender roles by the age of five that they won’t even consider playing with a friend of the opposite gender.
 
 As a rule, boys tend to prefer more active games, and girls tend to prefer more narrative play. Some boys like dolls and some girls like football, and in most of the world, that is ok.
 
 But not in Granville.
 
 In Granville, boys run around with sticks, and girls say, “I’m not allowed to play with boys”. Of course there are exceptions, but finding “your people” takes time. And finding your place in an environment that feels hostile is hard enough for a grown up – but for a tender little heart, it can be brutal.
 
 Thankfully, he trusts me. Thank goodness he talks to me. I’m so proud of his strength and determination. I’m amazed by his ability to keep trying, and to keep hoping that tomorrow will be better. And it does seem to be getting better.
 
 This year he is in a 1/2 composite class, and he is being allowed to work with the year two kids. And amazingly, he’s finishing his work, not staring off into space like he did for most of last year. He’s engaging with his peers and the material, and hasn’t once been disciplined for not paying attention. He’s finding his feet socially, and is developing a special friendship with a lovely kid.
 
 And we’ve stepped up the extra curricular activities. I’ve become “that” parent that drags her kid around for every activity under the sun. I decided to trial a few things to see what he liked, then drop down to a reasonable number. The idea was to expose him to life outside of school. Preferably activities where boys and girls are treated equally.
 
 We have gymnastics on Monday, piano on Tuesday, dancing (ballet, tap and jazz) on Wednesday, trampolining on Thursday, and choir on Saturday. He loves them all.
 
 So on balance, I’m exhausted, and feeling crazy. But he’s happier than he has been in over a year. So I’m happy too.
 
 
 
 Image by Lumsdaine Photography

Adventures

Today I did my first session as a counsellor for a new project trialling using Google Glass for breastfeeding information and support. I didn’t get any calls, but I did have a lovely time fiddling with the technology (I don’t get the glasses, just the software!), and working out the kinks. And I got started on uni for this semester, Cognition I, another one of those units that puts fear into the hearts of second year students. I’m only doing one subject this semester, with the aim of getting great results and lifting my GPA – and eventually being offered a place in honours.

And… There is further talk of Mark going to New Zealand. Still nothing confirmed, but we have agreed to the idea of thinking about considering a short term move. No idea what we would do with the house, or the creatures, or any practicalities, and it all may fall over (if a single person without a family volunteers for the role!), but we’ll see.