Archive for the 'Home' Category

Oh how bittersweet

source: patmarch

When we arrived in Melbourne, I spent a good month weeping at odd moments. The car seemed to be a particular problem spot. I guess no one in the back seat could see my tears and that provided me with a freedom. Driving the boys to  story time at the new library, to their new swimming lessons, to their new daycare, to the supermarket that never had any parks, the tears would well and inevitably spill over.  We were in the car a lot because of where we lived so I had plenthy of opportunity. Wherever we were, I would think of the Sydney equivalent and sob. Remembering my family, my friends and tears would fall. Somehow, our life in Sydney seemed to make more sense. Our family made more sense. We had an identity. We were us. In Melbourne, I felt we were anchorless. Bar a couple of Cam’s friends and his family, no one knew who we were. And in particular, no one knew who I was.

I can’t remember now when I stopped crying. But I did. I must have. We fell into the swing of things, or I guess I did. Life in Melbourne became our normal with its ups and its downs. But it became that, life. Just normal beautiful heartfelt life.

But the crazy, nutty thing now is that being back in Sydney, falling straight back into the life we had, my family around to love and help us, my friends dropping by, sharing a beer and hanging out with us, I can’t help but miss Melbourne terribly. Like enough to cry in the car again. Is it change that disrupts us, enough to unsettle us or is nostalgia a fundamental human experience?

Nostalgia is defined as a yearning for the past, often in idealized form. It is what I have exactly. Since I’ve been back nothing in Sydney equals that in Melbourne. I feel completely unsettled again, like the family equilibrium has been disrupted and we are now ‘out of place.’ This is nuts given my same response when we arrived in Melbourne. I know my memory is skewed. I mean, Melbourne was a fantastic city to live in for our family – so much better for kids – but I was lonely and I’m back now amongst those I love and yet I feel so dislocated.

Another historical definition for nostalgia has been homesickness. And in the 1800s it was even considered a medical condition, a disease. This interests me because my experience of this, this nostalgia, this longing, feels out of my control; as if no self-talk would make any difference.

I guess I’m trying to work out why. What function does nostalgia play? What evolutionary role does it have?  It is to help us adjust to change? It haunts me, follows me wherever I go. And it fits so neatly into the glass as half full or empty. Is my nostalgia just another inherent way that I vew the  glass half empty? If so, that scares me. I guess now that I’ve articulared it, now that I am aware of it, I can change it. Well, I’d hope so.

What are you nostalgic for? As there been a time in your life when you fell this intensely?

 

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tough

copyright tw collins

 

It’s getting a bit tough round here.

I’m looking for beautiful things.

To look at.

To make me feel a bit better.

And a bit less tired.

The boys are pushing every button we have.

And we seem to avoid looking at each other.

I feel flat when we try to negotiate the way

together.

And he just feels angry.

The heat, oppressive

and silent,

doesn’t help at all.

Yesterday, I mentioned that the baby turns 6 months today and how far that still seems from when he is one when, hopefully, things will be easier with him.

C said, ‘that’s the difference between you and me. I just thing how great it is we’ve made it to 6 months.’

Ah, the glass. Exactly, how half full is it?

I’m back

I’m not sure the protocol in these situations.
Am I meant to start a new blog.
My purpose is gratitude.
Which fits too neatly with half full glasses.
I’m sticking around until
I think of somewhere better,
if I think of somewhere better,
to house my thoughts.

These days we are quiet.
There are now five where there were four.
We’ve added another little boy.
Four and a half months and every day more.

The reason these days are quiet,
is because 2 little boys leave
the house early in the morning
3 days a week.
These days are my solace, my substenance
my necessity.

So gratitude seems to me
one very real way
of making sure I live
squarely in every moment.
Looking for the things about which
I should give thanks.
Maybe looking will help me
be.

Nurture

Life ebbs and flows and kinda dips a lot at the moment. I’m still trying to find my feet in Melbourne and mentally get on top of my body’s health.

One thing I have decided to do, now that I have the time as a SAHM (ouch!!) is cook. In particular, make my lunch from scratch.

Cooking brings me joy. Even more so, eating what I’ve cooked. So, they say focus on the little things each day that make you feel ok. And that’s what I’ve been doing. It’s a crap photo but here is my lunch time salad. So yummy and even pretty fun to cook. Actually lot’s of fun. I found the recipe here which is a GREAT site. As someone who is trying to eat healthier in the hope that my body responds with gusto, this site makes cooking and eating healthily still seem lots of fun.

mostly swimming end of Sydney 029

So where does the love go?

C and I were not together long before we fell pregnant. We’d talked about it, how much we both wanted kids together but we hadn’t really committed to it, or at least I hadn’t in my head. We were lax about contraception and voila, A was born 9 months later.

The speed with which things have happened have, until now, worked in our favour as a couple. We were still going through the honeymoon phase of our relationship when our first was born and fell even more in love as new parents. I really do believe that the newness of C and I helped us cope with first newborn hell and made us even more starry-eyed.

And for so long since then, even after S was born, I’ve thought how lucky I am to still feel so utterly (and newly) in love with my husband. Until about a month ago, when I had the inevitable reality of the relationship shakes. I believe that these ‘shakes’ truely are inevitable and probably a necessary part of any relationship. My guess is that they play an important role in making a relationship stronger.

Having said this, it threw me. It was unexpected. It scared the hell out of me. We’ve recently moved states and I’ve left friends and family to be here in Melbourne. I was always looking forward to the challenge and I’ve always been impressed by Melbourne as a city, but as leaving day drew nearer, I realised I wasn’t so fine with it all. I freaked out. And C kept getting more and more excited as I got more and more resentful.

We started fighting. As you know my health has also been crap and that was getting me down. The boys are sleeping that well so add to all this a good dose of sleep deprivation. We bickered, I was irritated and irritating. He was nasty. I was very angry. So was he. This pattern has played itself out on and off for about 4 weeks now and it’s getting tired.

I realised the other night when we were out to dinner that it was the first time where we were on our own that I didn’t feel excited and heady with love for him. It seemed mundane. No fighting, but no intensity of conversation and emotion that usually comes when we actually get some time on our own. None of this speaks of any underlying troublein our relationship – at least I don’t believe so. But I guess what I’m coming to realise (and perhaps dread) is that this is just a natural part of any relationship and I need to get used to it. Or at least not get so despondent about it.

C says I have not been nice to him for a long time. He says I snap and always look for the negative in what he says. I realised for the first time yesterday, that he’s right. It’s been relentless, and while we’ll survive the inevitable boredom, the lessening intensity, we will not survive my constant niggling and undermining.

So, I realise that the love is obviously still here. No question. It’s changing form as it will continue to do for years and years to come (I hope). We’ve now been together long enough that negotiating one’s physical and psychical space is challenging but necessary. It’s hard but we have to do it and we have to do it better than we have been.

I need to improve and yesterday, I realised, I am totally committed to doing so.

We’re here

I’ll write more soon but we’re finally here, altogether now and while it feels so nice to be a family again, I cannot help feeling loss. Tears well in my eyes as I inspect our new home finding the linen cupboard and the breadboards, the nappies and the toothpaste.  

I am thrilled at the making of a new home but I can’t help but wonder why, oh why, did we need to do this 800kms away from the people I love.

I’m not sure I’ve made the right decision but my first day, tired as I am, in this new house, in this new city, in this new state, must just be that – a first day, rather than a last.

As days go by

It is getting colder here. It’s hard not to feel a bit blah. C’s back is out so he lies around the house, under the quilt, watching ESPN ad nauseum. I’m trying to work and I don’t feel like saying much. That seems to bug him a bit. He wants entertaining. The boys have been at daycare and while it’s great to get some work done, I miss them. I miss their injection.

I feel tired from disrupted nights of wet beds, nappy changes and bottles. I’m doing it on my own. See previous comment about C’s back. I’m also writing all day for work and then traipsing off into the late afternoon wind to the train station to shuttle to the  dusty bowel in the west where I teach.

I’m also obsessively reading inspirational blogs where mothers post numerous photos of general family frolicking in the Northern Hemisphere sun. But it doesn’t scratch, it makes me feel better.

Ho hum. I want time for so much more in my life than I have now. I’m just getting that ‘me time’ urge that seems to plauge mothers. I feel guilty for that. Like I don’t really deserve it. Like I made my bed and now should lie in it.

All seems silly. Sorry.

And I feel nauseous. And I bit nervous.