Category Archives: Mother

June 9, 2012 · 8:43 am

Story of life

I left my book at home and had nothing to read on the train to work the other day. I was beside myself. What do I read? I looked over the newsaper the guy was reading next to me. Ugh car racing. So I was left looking around the carriage and my imagination got the better of me. One unshaven guy with a messy crop of oily hair in a black shiny coat looked like an Underbelly crim. He caught me looking at him and gave a sly grin. Ugh. I looked away and to a young guy on his mobile phone. Just realised his annoying chatter and pitch was distracting those immediately around him. I longed for the upcoming ‘no service’ tunnel for his call to abruptly end.

Two noisy kids fighting with their mother’s attention on her mobile phone sat in the seat in front of me. She was Facebooking by the looks of it.

Looking around I wondered what stories all of these people had. What makes them who they are. What will they do in their lives, who will these people become and how will their lives finish up?

Train

I twirled my engagement and wedding rings for a while wondering about my life so far and what makes me.

I wondered about the people around me and what makes them who they are. Is it their parents, their grandparents, their social class, their jobs or their friends?  Perhaps all of that makes us who we are. But then, I have heard of stories like a girlfiend of mine who I will call Beth whose mum in the 70s treated her children badily. The girls had to have long hair. They were not allowed to have friends over. Beth told me once her mum didn’t want to be a mum. So as a result the kids were all eager to leave home as early as possible. Her dad on the other hand was beautiful and thoughtful. When the nasty mum was out for a number of hours, he had the kids bring their friends into the house. What a mix for parents. Still amazes me that two different people stick together. I asked my Beth once why did her dad stay with her mum as they seem so different. She replied it was just habit. Not much love these days. Beth is such a wonderful woman. She is tough on her children but Beth and her husband are like two peas in a pod with their love for their kids.

The train jolted and I came back to reality and looked up to see Underbelly man looking at me. Ughhh I quickly started looking into my handbag pretending to be looking for something. Ahh, there is my compact powder!

I continued my reflection and this time on my parents and what I have taken away from their parenting. I’ve written about my parent’s parenting style and I think I am alright. I just hope I have passed on some good traits to our kids. I hope we have been giving our kids a balanced and loving early part of their lives. At least they don’t want to leave home yet. I am thinking of Claire when I type this. She was to finish uni last year but decided to do extra this year. At this rate and with her going off overseas in under a month, I am not sure when she will leave home. I am so still jealous of her and my parents holiday coming up soon.

Dad on reflection told my brother and I how as a child he and his sibblings were never allowed to talk at dinner table. Dinner were always quiet except for the requests to pass the bowl of peas or the salt. Whereas our dinners with him and mum were always rauctious conversations, debates and stories of our day just had. Dad always made a point of starting conversations over dinner that would spill out into the kitchen when the dishes were done. I love these conversations and banter and I have made an effort to bring those into our family at dinner time too. No eating in front of the TV in our household.

The train jerked, shuddered and stopped. There was a collective sigh by everyone in the carriage. I jolted out of my day dream and I was still twirling my engagement and wedding rings. I felt someone looking at me, again. It was Underbelly man again. He looked at my face and down to my rings and I could see his smile melt away as he turned and looked out the window. Later when I got off the train and walked into work. I wondered what was Underbelly man’s story.

Do you ponder about what makes and shape your life? Or am I alone?

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March 28, 2012 · 10:48 pm

A must for a European vacation

It feels like I am travelling to Europe this year. I should be going with all the research mum has shared with me of her and dad’s trip later this year. If only I could convince my husband Jason I need to go too. My parents need a chaperone.

The European vacation seed was planted at Christmas. My parents have never wanted to go overseas. Always happy to go to North Coast NSW for holidays. Sticklers for same and they loved the hippy route. But at Christmas last year, the extended family discussion was open and my mum went home, well different. I guess not having Grandma here also played a part. Grandma always told mum she needed to go overseas at least once in her life. Forget all that hippy stuff and move on. Grandma passing has made mum think about a lot of things in her life differently.  My cousins and brother were all talking about what they had seen on their holidays and how they would all go back in an instant. During all of this conversation, I was just green with envy.

Googling chaperone

So where should my parents go in Europe? Where do two old hippies see? I joked that they should check out Glastonbury in the UK, sleep rough under Stonehenge or smoke pot in Amsterdam, Holland. Mum gave me this twinkle in her eye. Then it dawned on me, God forbid they could get into something a bit out there and get caught by the authorities. That’s why I think I should be their chaperone and make sure they don’t go astray.

To make matters worse Claire, my daughter, said she would catch up with them in France during her uni holidays. It is bad enough to have the parents up to no good, even worse if they take my daughter into that same hippy tent. They ALL need a chaperone.

I’ve blogged about the issue we had with Claire in the past. I don’t want to go there again and I feel so guilty thinking my parents would regress to their hippy past with Claire in tow.  I definitely need to be the chaperone.

Mum has been reading over travel brochures and dog tagging every page. I’ve shown her how to use Google and together we have checked out so much online. She has come over to our place many times, not to see me but to use the internet. At one stage I made the silly suggestion that she write up a travel blog during her travels, she is considering it. But she is not proficient with the internet and computers, so I need to go to Europe with her and be a chaperone.

I have written how I missed doing a gap year holiday. The husband would like to have paid off the house but I think it would be wonderful to be overseas holidaying with my parents and daughter. This opportunity will not come often. In fact it might be the only time my parents go overseas. On reflection, that worries me, my parents are getting old.

Did I say I should be my parents’ chaperone?

I know chaperones are very old fashioned but I think they do have their place in society today. Not so much to protect the innocence & safety of a young woman in the posh English 1800s but to protect the not so innocent from doing something they would regret. Perhaps, the chaperones of the 1800s did that too.

So I am convinced, a chaperone is a must for my parents’ European vacation. Problem is, I might have to fight with my extended family who will be have this important role.  Choose me!

Have you travelled overseas with extended family. How did it go? Any traveller tips?

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February 29, 2012 · 10:20 am

Dear old boyfriend

Happy Birthday, wherever you are in Australia, or the world. It was Valentine’s day a few weeks back and I remembered your birthday was four days later. I have a habit of remembering dates but I remember, you were never so good at them. Or good at relationships for that matter.

I was spoilt this Valentine’s day by my husband of 22 years. He cooked me a wonderful dinner and we had the house to ourselves. You might remember my mother, yes she was one to told me about your antics when we were together, well she looked after the kids for the night. My oldest daughter was at her boyfriends. So Valentine’s night was for celebrated and you know what I mean.

The kids were away again and my husband had taken them to his uncles place for the weekend. Your birthday weekend. I had been helping mum clean out her place of clutter but at night, your birthday night I was at home alone. I had a few wines by myself and I kept wondering. Then it occurred to me it was your birthday.

Broken heart

I don’t know what possessed me to look for you on Facebook, Google+ and Twitter but I couldn’t find you. Perhaps I got the spelling of your name wrong, perhaps you have changed your name. Perhaps you have changed. Perhaps you have died.

You were once my Valentine in the latter years of high school and the first few months of university. I thought we would be married and have kids and live happily ever after. How childish we were, I was.

Here I was teasing my son Jamie a day before Valentine’s day about which girl was he going to send a Valentine’s Day card to. Instead he receives a card but is not sure which girl it came from. Happy to say, he now knows and has a girlfriend. So cute.

My eldest daughter doesn’t tell me all the clues to her generation. My 20-something beautician, actually on your birthday, spoke of the sport the beauticians have collecting as many sexual partners they can on a weekend. Not quality anymore but quantity. You were fond of quantity too I remember.

At the beautician I learn about all sorts of waxing trends. Now I won’t get into how much I get waxed but rest assured I am now in the minority. I had no idea that hair was so horrid. I even hear how men are into waxing hair too. Doubt my husband would want a manzilian. Do you have a manzilian? Ughhh enough of that wax of thought.

Back to my family. Makeyla my youngest daughter is too young for that love stuff. I have to admit she will like me have her heart broken at some stage, unfortunately and by someone like you, old boyfriend. But don’t come near.

My life is good and I am so glad to have never married you. I am glad that my mother found out and eventually told me your secret. She had pondered over it for a long time but in the end I am glad she told me. I should have guessed it. You were too keen on visiting my Grandmother! You wanted to get to her to get another tissue box cover into your collection. Grandma made the best padded potpourri tissue box covers. Our relationship had to end.

So now, when I look at an empty issue box that has all those fancy printed designs on them. I admire the design, I am a designer after all and then I crunch the box up and stick it in the recycling.

Goodbye old boyfriend, here have a tissue.
Susan

So how did you celebrate your Valentine’s day in 2012? Do you reminisce about old boyfriends?

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