I am experiencing post-Christmas ennui. Not much energy, lack of motivation, tiredness. 48 hours after the big day and things haven’t really been put away. All leftovers have been ditched or eaten and I need to go back to the shops. Oh the horror! the horror!
Sitting around doing the puzzles in the paper gives me the feeling of being on holiday, but alas, this is a false impression. The time devoted to sudoku is evident in the ramshackle state of the house.
I think T & J are more attached to each other than they are to me. This would make sense, as they are almost always together, whereas sometimes I actually go out without them!
A few days ago I went to babysit for some friends. I thought it would be a late night (that’s 10pm by my standards) so I planned to take J with me. When asked whether he wanted to come, he queried whether T was coming. No. J couldn’t decide. We had several conversations as to whether he wanted to come, including confirmation that T wasn’t coming. He eventually decided that he would come, and happily clambered into his car seat. Then, at the last minute, waving goodbye to P & T he burst into tears. “I don’t want to come! Want to stay!” As soon as he got out, and was back with T, he was able to happily wave good bye to me!
A few weeks ago I was going somewhere that T really didn’t want to come, so I arranged that he could visit Grandma. I planned for J to still come with me. T was flabbergasted by this arrangment. “J’s not coming to Grandmas?” (welling eyes) “Why isn’t J coming?” (rising note of anxiety). When we got to Grandma’s I could see the rubber band of attachment working. T couldn’t get from the car to Grandma’s front door to ring the bell. He literally kept pinging back to J in the car. Suddenly J burst into tears: “I want to go with T!” So Grandma had them both – thanks Grandma.
To see them play together truly gladdens my heart. Despite my staunch statements about sibling friendships being more a function of personality than gender and age differences, I was concerned that the reasonably large gap between them (3 years & 8 months) would be “too big”. I worried that they wouldn’t be “into” the same things. All of these fears have so far proved unfounded. We all enjoy the same books, with T sometimes ‘reading’ these to J. Even chapter books – J is happy to have boobie while I read. They both love playing with cars, both utilise the same craft materials, both play with the same construction-type toys I borrow from the toy library, both dress up in crazy goggles.
Homeschooling gently promotes the primacy of family over the demands of other relationships and institutions. If T went to school, he would have been away from J from 8.30 – 3.oo Monday to Friday last year. That would be really sad. Though they might still be great friends, they wouldn’t be attached. Attachment is a stronger force than love alone.
They do squabble. This will be a topic for a future post, as the issue is always one of perceived scarcity, and subsequent competition for resources. I believe this is a manifestation of my issues, and I need to start to really believe in abundance – not just pay lip service.
The other day I witnessed J come up to T. “Do you want to play ‘ide and ‘eek?” “Yes!” was the enthusiastic response, and off they ran. So gorgeous!
Last night I took the boys to carols by candlelight. I had planned to go to the local one last weekend, but missed, so I *had* to go last night, despite being exhausted with an aching wisdom tooth. I’m so glad we went. I always love my children, but I enjoy them the most when we go out together, just us.
At home, the neverending chores pull at me, and when we’re out with other adults – even P – there is my own desire to socialise with them, plus their needs and expectations. When it’s just T, J & I, we are in our own magical world, and answerable only to ourselves. Are we having fun – let’s stay! Are we tired – let’s go! Without the static created by other responsibilities and other people, I am completely in tune with them, able to read and respond to their cues, and peace and love flourish. I need to get better at reducing this static at other times, as being in the “flow” is a wonderful space to be and when I am most authentic.
This must be one of the privileges of homeschooling – that we *are* often out together, enjoying each others’ company in the world. They are my favourite friends.
Feeling somewhat swamped by the Christmas festival, I’ve decided to try and balance the ledger a little by building a family calendar that includes other regular events. (T maybe somewhat bewildered – not to say P – but I have high hopes that J will grow up believing that this is the way we have always been.)
I borrowed a bunch of books from the library with a view to unearthing different things we could do. I became somewhat sceptical about the information contained therein when I read that many Australians eat their roast turkey on the beach on Christmas day! Oh those nutty folk down under!
The Australian calendar of public holidays was a good starting point, and I’ve decided to adopt Anzac Day (25th April). I like it because the public holiday falls on the day of the event, and there is actually a public event that we can participate in – namely the dawn service. OK, I confess that the dawn bit is a bit of a problem, but I am determined (while safely ensconced in December) to do this. We can then build a tradition of a yummy breakfast picnic afterwards.
Buddha’s birthday is celebrated in May/June, so I will find out more about what may be happening at the local monastry. Could be nothing – Buddhists can be pretty low key – but we might at least be able to attend an offering of food to the monks.
I’ve always liked the idea of recognising the winter solstice, so I’m thinking this could be an event where we make lots of home made candles and get out of the city into the cold dark night. We *might* make sacrifices and chant in circles, but more likely we’ll huddle around a camp fire with some mulled wine. Initial research suggests that I might be attracted to “World Pantheism” a sort of naturalist pagan spirituality (less of the gobbledy gook, more of the respect for nature). I’m glad I found this, as I was a bit concerned when first confronted with the types of props I might like to purchase to assist in pagan ceremonies.
I also like the the idea of Earth Day (there are actually two, the original one on the equinox – 20 March, and the more recent one that includes Earth Hour, on 22 April.) I actually prefer the first, but the second involving people around the world turning off their lights as a symbol of treading more lightly on the earth is rather lovely too. Maybe we can do both – though autumn is looking almost overwhelming!
My other thought was to see whether there might be a local Noongah celebration of some kind. Obviously not ’secret business’, but it might be nice for all of us to have some exposure to the original culture of where we live. I could find nothing via my usual sources of google and the library. This might have to be a “purchased” experience of sorts – I’m thinking eating spring time bush tucker, listening to stories of the Dreamtime, etc. (Could I be more of a tourist?) I know of one place in the Swan Valley that does this sort of thing, so that could be a starting point.
I also checked out Reconciliation Australia, as I thought they might be likely to host community events. National Reconciliation Week from 27 May (1967 referendum) to 3 June (1992 Mabo decision) seems like an appropriate opportunity to participate, but there is no reconciliation council in WA. I was directed to the relevant department and have emailed them to find out what might be on.
With a more balanced calendar, I am opening up to more fully embrace the Christian festivals that the dominant culture provides. I have found some wonderful wooden advent calendars on-line, with little drawers that you open up and inside each drawer there is a magnetic nativity character that you use to build your nativity scene on the magnetic board in the middle. I was thinking I could also put a little “Christmas activity” note in each drawer – eg, on 1 December “Put up Christmas tree”, 2 December “sing carols” etc.
I’ve also come up with a purpose for my nemesis, Santa Claus. I’ve decided that he can bring craft supplies for the following year. I would be buying them anyway, I can collect while they’re on special through the year, they’re great without being unbelievably amazing, and if this is what he *always* brings, that might remove some of the hype.
Given that we have avoided the Easter Bunny and the chocolate egg fest so far, I am absolutely determined to hold the line! I will try to think of another way to recognise Easter at our house. I can’t let those canny marketers at the church convince my kids that that their beliefs trump all others by connecting them with goodies all the time!
If anyone out there would like to join us in developing any of these – or other – family traditions, we would love your company and shared commitment to broadening our horizons.
“The Australian” has just upped the ante on Santa Claus by directing our attention to the first submarine to be offered on ebay. T is very keen and has offered to put in some of his money. P was intrigued that a sub bought for $50 000 in 2001 is now looking for bids over $4.9m. Another missed opportunity……
Twenty six square kilometers, north of Fiji and east of PNG. Lyrical name, and I’m sure a slice of paradise on earth. Tuvalu first crossed my radar a few years back when it rated a mention in the ‘weird and wonderful’ type news. Namely, that it had sold off it’s internet country identifier. These may have an official name that I don’t know, but I’m talking about Australia (.au), United Kingdom (.uk) and America (.com). Tuvalu was given .tv, which they sold for $30 million, from memory.
More recently I heard on RN that the 10 000 Tuvaluans are likely to be the first of the estimated 100 million people displaced by climate change. Apparantly in this devout Christian nation many aren’t concerned, as God promised Noah that the floods would never return. That’s probably as valid as believing that world governments will reach an effective agreement to mitigate climate change in Copenhagen next year.
Readers may be familiar with the problem of the commons. A small village has a circle of houses around a common field, on which each family grazes a cow, to provide themselves with milk and cheese. One family has the brilliant idea to get a second cow, and sell their surplus dairy products to the next village. Other families join suit, and before you know it, the field has been eaten bare by all the extra cows, and can no longer support any cows.
One would think that a primary role of government would be to protect the commons (you know, boring stuff like clean air, clean water, biodiversity, top soil) but rather, governments seem to specialise in assisting people to exploit it. And in international negotiations, their narrow view of the national interest makes all of us poorer. As there is no world government to lobby on the issue of climate change, we are forced to lobby our national government, in a vain attempt to convince them that yes, we do know what we’re talking about, and can they *please* show some leadership on an issue that threatens us all.
I note that faith aside, Tuvalu has approached Australia to see whether in the worst case scenario they can establish a sovereign nation within Australia’s borders, so that their nationality, culture and heritage is not lost. I don’t want to be too pessimistic here, but based on our recent history of welcoming refugees ……. I think it’s unlikely. A brief search for the Australian government’s response to this request found a “no comment” from foreign minister Stephen Smith. Ha! Perhaps he doesn’t think it’s an election winner? (Aside: should elected officials be able to ‘not comment’ on their area of responsibility? Sigh. Maybe it’s more painless than paragraphs of obscuring claptrap.)
Black humour aside (and there seems to be a bit of it around – “Pacific solution” turns into Pacific problem) wouldn’t it actually be easier for governments to reduce greenhouse emissions than to grapple with 100 million displaced persons? Do we really care so much about short term economic growth that we are willing to let other countries – people’s homes and history and livelihoods – literally disappear beneath the waves? And then no doubt we’ll expect them to be grateful if we let them land on our shores and start them off with a Centrelink pension.
I just want to record for posterity that last weekend, on J’s birthday, we finally planted a tree to commemorate his birth and celebrate his arrival. We hosted a tree planting day for T when he was about 3 months, but due to our impending move, we waited (and waited) with J. I was so glad to finally do it. P was too – at last the placenta is out of the freezer! The boys’ Spirit Guides planted two olive trees- one for J, and a second tree for T – seeing as we live here now. If we move again we’ll just have to plant more…. get those Spirit Guides working!
As we are such social recluses, having a party is quite the event. I hired a clown for the kids who were coming. When I mentioned this initiative to one of the Spirit Guides she spoke in hushed tones…. ” Jane, that’s not like you” (subtext: are you Ok?) My general tight-fistedness was overcome by the more pressing concern of the socially challenged: ”I’ve invited all these people and what are they going to be DOING??” In the two days prior to the event I whipped myself into a frenzy of preparation – though a week later I can’t tell you what that actually involved, as I’d asked all the guests to bring a plate. I do recall feeling a sense of doom as the minutes ticked down and the toilets needed to be cleaned and P was outside doing some mulching. Mulching! Mulching can wait – let’s have toilets without poo – at least for the first few users!
I ran out of time to have a shower, but I did put on a long skirt and whipped out my “vintage” mascara. This was definitely worth it, as my two most fervent admirers walked around me in slow circles exclaiming how pretty I was…. they could hardly get over it. P was obliged to join the chorus of compliments for fear of being forever marginalised. I should really get out more.
The half hour or so before the event begins is always the best. When your sense of humour returns and you shrug your shoulders fatalistically. What will be, will be. So the toilets aren’t clean – so be it. So everyone has a bad time – shit happens. It’s a similar feeling to handing in assignments, or finishing an exam. The relief of things being now out of your hands.
Well, the clown had a great time anyway. He was full of praise for the lovely children (parental highlight was when they corrected him on something and he queried “Oh – do you go to school?” and they chorused: “NOOOO”) and he loved the food- the best he’d ever had at a children’s party. I didn’t tell him that it had all been brought by the guests!
The trees are in, and I feel like a great big item on my “to do” list has been ticked off.
Enormous amounts of rain has resulted in tomato plants that think they are immortal. There’s no call to reproduce (ie fruit) when obviously the conditions are such that you will live forever. The chicks – renamed Blackie and Brownie for ease of identification – lurk in the tomato bush forest for ages, and require the efforts of all four family members to herd them out to their night quarters. I must confess to feelings of self satisfaction when I see the boys romping through the vege garden in pursuit of chickens.
The snowpeas are producing, but not enough to ever make the pilgrimage into the kitchen – it’s all eaten in the garden. I must plant more peas next time. Most of the first plantings of English spinach are bolting – and now some of the second plantings as well. The first plantings of rocket were all lost to the white cabbage butterflies, but some of the second plantings are surviving – though with a few holes. The zucchinis are flowering, and the obscure variety of beans is looking promising too. (These will be a culinary challenge – I have no idea what to do with them.) One of the new passionfruit vines has started to take off, and so far the avocado trees are looking good. This is good as I haven’t had success with avocado trees before.
P has planted a virtual forest of trees out the front – some fruit but mainly natives. I imagine that it will only be a couple of years before we are completely screened from the road. P has almost finished painting the exterior of the house in home made paint, and it looks great. The whole place is starting to feel like “us”. We are literally putting down roots.
We’ve just recovered from a technological meltdown, which has necessitated the purchase of a new computer, and probably triggered the divorce of P’s friend, who stayed here late last night helping us to set it up.
The lack of a computer meant that I had to duck down to the local internet cafe twice to feed my need to keep up to date with my emails (mainly spam). I would have added to my sad life by trying to “blog” there as well, but I ran out of time.
I had a problem with my blog, such that I went into the back rooms of WordPress looking for an answer. I found an answer in a forum, but couldn’t understand the answer. I thought I would make contact with the person who had had the same problem as me and fixed it, so I went to his blog. He turned out to be this music-loving vegan, bemoaning the lack of good rock riffs from the current generation of musicians, and the upcoming holiday season, which would see him conducting his annual explanation of his food choices to his extended family. Ha! I could have wasted a lot of time in his archives. It made me realise that the blogosphere is like a room of mirrors. You could spend a lot of time delightedly reading the thoughts of people who agree with you on stuff. Very affirming, but a skewed view of what the world is like.
I am saved from this fate as the only decent newspaper in Western Australia is a right wing broadsheet. I am often spluttering over my breakfast as I am confronted with smug conservative opinion pieces and hot under the collar climate change deniers masquerading as sensible economic editors.
I hereby encourage any lefty organic-type readers out there to stop reading this blog and start working on the revolution. Let me know if I can help.
What does Christmas mean to those of us who aren’t practising Christians? I’m not sure, but I’m open to answers – I need some right now! As I said to a friend, in moments of desperation trying to balance out the other stuff that has seeped under our door, I’ve started preaching the gospel! (I don’t even know this stuff! Do we really give gifts because of the story of the three wise men?? That’s what I’ve told the kids. I have no idea. Luckily they didn’t probe into the moral of this story, which frankly escapes me. I’ve asked the same friend to send me more information on the meaning of Christmas trees – which I only found out on Wednesday *have* a meaning!)
Despite our decision *not* to do Father Christmas, he now visits our house. I didn’t realise that we were only getting away with it for the first three years of T’s life because he was (rightly) scared of strange men. Then last year T was filled with excitement about “Santa Claus”, and I wasn’t prepared for his joyous announcement of this “great thing” that was going to happen. So subsequently we seem stuck with him. I know he didn’t come from me, because in my world he’s called Father Christmas. I blame the shops, the library, his relentless motif, myself for attending any children’s Christmas function ever…… who knows. When queried, I weakly reply that “Santa Claus is the spirit of Christmas” (which I got from a yoga magazine.) And like the scrooge I am, I make sure that Santa doesn’t bring anything too good. T asked me recently why Santa only brought him “that frog thing” last year, when he really wanted a train set. Do you think I’m screwing him up? I can’t bear the idea of “Santa” bringing great stuff to our house, and then visiting another child to whom Santa only gave an orange – as happened to my dad in the Great Depression. So subsequently, it is probably my children who are left bewildered that Santa doesn’t bring anything good.
Apart from his raging materialism, and his requirement that parents perpetrate this fraud on their children – the fallout from which he is immune - my other beef with “Santa” is he comes with a bunch of manipulations. I recently heard T advising J that he better not be naughty, or else Santa wouldn’t bring him any presents. Now that I can definitely blame on the library, who (I must remonstrate with them) have in their collection a lovely illustrated book of the song “Santa Claus is coming to town”. AARRRGGGHHHHHH.
I’m not about to waltz out the door in an “I love Jesus” T-shirt, but I’m happy enough to celebrate his birth. I just wish it didn’t come with all this other stuff. The pressure is on to introduce other great people of history who have tried to answer humanity’s burning question: “How am I to live?” In the meantime, please God, save us from the Easter Bunny.
