Making lemonade

Image source

No, this is not a home-making post, so if you're looking for a recipe for delicious homemade lemonade you'll be sadly disappointed. However, if you happen to know of a good lemonade recipe, I'm all ears!

Our house was egged yesterday. Again. Yes, it's happened before and it will happen again. Actually.I'm expecting another onslaught today sometime. It is still the weekend and the neighbourhood kids are bored. Heaven help us when school holidays start at the end of the week!

Our attackers are rather bold. They will do it at any time of day, circling the house on their bikes and calling out the "m" word. I filmed one of them on my phone yesterday. Evidence I guess.

I'm choosing to act in love. I greet the boys and tell them my name so hopefully one day, when they get bored with what they're doing they'll choose to get to know me rather than attack us simply because of our genetic condition. Human behaviour truly baffles me. We reduce ourselves to the animalistic instinct of picking on the different, the weak, the infirm, knowing full well we are doing so rather than acting based on the instinct of survival of the fittest. This is what the animal kingdom is genetically engineered to do. Human beings were designed to do things differently to animals. Unfortunately some human beings are unaware of this fact.

I'm choosing to rejoice in the fact that the front windows of our house are sparking clean now that I've washed the eggy residue off. I'd been meaning to wash the windows for the longest time. There's nothing like the smell of rotten egg to stir you into action!

I'm choosing to not let these boys know they're actually getting to us, that their actions hurt. I'm choosing not to react in ways other than making our environment clean and safe. If I discover where these young boys live I will inform their parents, but that will be my only retaliatory action - unless of course the missiles become dangerous objects; in which case I'll be going to the police.

This is one small aspect of living with difference. It's typical, it's annoying, it can be disheartening; but I choose to remember that it is only a minority of society that chooses to act this way. The rest just let us be. I choose not to define myself based on the ignorant actions of others. I know who I am and it makes me wonder if our attackers are happy with themselves and their lives. Their need to attack others simply for being different from them seem to suggest otherwise.

Regardless

It's simple really. The day I accepted the simplicity of this reality was the day my heart found peace.

I stopped striving and struggling and denying the reality of that truth. I stopped trying to make it not so and rested in the knowledge that it was. Plain and simple.

Despite everything.

In spite of myself.

It's the best part of myself. The part I treasure most of all. The flame that burns and keeps me going. The gentle glow that warms me and assures me that I'm ok, even if circumstances remain the same. Even if this glow is not reciprocated.

The plain and simple truth is that I love you.

Just as you are.

Rollerbaby

After riding an emotional high last night I find today I'm struggling. I'm quiet today; going about my work with solitude and serenity. I'm tired.

Last night we had a Christmas Party and I truly enjoyed it. I didn't have many conversations but the ones I did were interesting and friendly. Most of the time was spent dancing with my kids...and by myself. I just didn't care that sometimes it was just them and me just cutting loose. I loved it, they loved it.

Bit today I'm flat. Hormones have left me drained and depressed and I feel dreadfully alone. Some days I'm tired of just carrying on, especially in the face of someone else's depression.

Why do I always feel as though I've got to be the uplifting one so that the other person doesn't plunge too deep down? Why do I feel as though I have to make the effort? There are days where I wonder who is there for me?

This too, shall pass. Sometimes I find its helpful just writing it down, acknowledging how I feel and emptying myself so that I can process it and keep on going.

Access Rant

You know what I wish they'd teach in schools? AUSLAN. Instead of teaching languages we're not likely to use (yes, and ok I know we are a multicultural country and being able to communicate with each other is a good thing, but this is known as an English speaking country where English is the predominant language so hear me out!) why don't the powers that be make it a prerequisite that Auslan is added to the curriculum? Auslan can be universal. Auslan uses symbols so that if English is not your first language then ALL of us get the general gist of what we're saying to each other!

The reason I am up in arms about this is that we have a colleague here who is Deaf. He is awesome. I love him to bits. He needs to attend meetings of all sorts but cannot participate to capacity unless there are Level 3 interpreters available to interpret everything for him. Of course you have to PAY for this service....and the costs are quite pricey. My colleague is given a budget for interpreting services but he runs out of that quickly. We went through the DHS credit line with a certain service so we could get interpreters for free but they just give you very second rate interpreters to the point where the interpreters don't know how to accurately sign what is being said. It sucks.

So, which brings me to my point. It would be AWESOME if we all knew basic communication in Auslan - not just the alphabet. Who wants to s-p-e-l-l o-u-t e-v-e-r-y w-o-r-d i-n a s-e-n-t-e-n-c-e? Why can't we start earning Auslan in kindergarten?  Makaton is often used in some childcare centres and kindergartens, so I think it would be great to extend this! I want to talk to my Deaf colleague. I want to just be able to go to him and tell him that we're out of milk and can he please go and buy us some? Or that I had an awesome weekend at the MBS Festival, or that my daughter is in the middle of exams. He and I get by, but often it's awkward and I feel rotten for not being able to communicate effectively with him. He appreciates people at least attempting - even if you mime to him. But if I had've been taught Auslan at school, rather than a smidgin of French, a smattering of German and two and a half years of Indonesian (which I've found totally useless and a complete waste of everyone's time!) both he and I......and many of the other Deaf people we encounter here on a weekly basis......would be able to communicate more effectively on a daily basis.

And while I'm at it.

Physical access. Lifts and ramps........ALL buildings should have them........and in easy to find locations........not round the corner, down the lane, through the freight access. They should be located at the FRONT of the building where everyone else enters so that EVERYONE can enter a building with dignity, not just as a second thought.

Access Toilets. They are for people with access requirements. Not for you to meet with your boyfriend or your girlfriend or random to get in a quick 5 minute bonk. Not for you to smoke a joint in or get drunk in or sleep in. Not for you to spend time fixing your makeup. Yes I know you might be in a hurry and you need to pee just as much as a person with a disability, but you can just go into a loo, unzip your pants and go. A person with a disability may not have the luxury of doing these things quickly and easily....or even without assistance.....so waiting outside the occupied Access Toilet to find someone walking out with no obvious access requirement REALLY pisses people off! (ok, I understand needing to inject yourself with insulin. This counts as an access requirement!) If you don't have a SPECIFIC access requirement which means you NEED to use the Access Toilet - please use the other loos, because.....you can.......and you can have your choice of ANY of the 6 to 12 cubicles available. Unfortunately, those with access requirements only have ONE choice - even if it's filthy dirty and filled with cigarette butts - or WORSE!

Access Parking Spots. I DON'T CARE IF YOU'RE ONLY GOING TO BE FIVE MINUTES! If you don't need it, don't park there! I've got a Disabled Person's Parking Permit in my car, but it's not for me........so I park elsewhere when it's just me in the car because I can walk the distance between the carpark and the shops. When I have people in my car for whom the permit is for, then I use the Access Parking spaces. Access Parking Spaces are NOT loading zones. Truckies, don't park behind people in the Access Parking Bays to offload your freight. They need to get out at a time it's convenient to THEM - not to you. Just like everyone else who drives.

If we all just extended a little common courtesy to our fellow human being, disabled or not, then the world would be a much better place.

Rant over.

*Disclaimer*

You may have noticed that I have refered to the "disabled toilets" as Access Toilets. This is my acknowledgement that it is not just people with obvious disabilities who use these facilities. Often there are no Family or Parent Toilets/Bathrooms provided therefore it makes sense to me that having a baby or a toddler with you means that you have an Access Requirement and should therefore be entitled to use the Access Toilets/Bathrooms.

*Disclaimer #2*

I never question a person with a Disability Parking Permit displayed on their vehicle, even if (to me) they don't "look disabled" when they get out of their car. What I get riled about is when there is NO permit displayed at all.

The road to the mirror

What a journey this past 15 months has been. Realisations and reflections and facing up to some things with the benefit of having the space to do it has ensured that I am in a much better place than I've ever been in my entire adult life.

I feel free in more than one aspect. The biggest thing has been freedom from the religious ideals and ways of thinking that, in my ignorance, I thought were SO RIGHT. Not just so right, but the ultimate and only truth. I'm still not entirely sure of what I actually do believe, but in my own heart and spirit and mind I feel that there is a Creator God. Of that I feel certain. There is just too much order and symmetry and design in everything for me to think that it all "just happened". So, for me, that's part of my truth at least.

I've come to think that now I've left the hierarchical and organised place I called church that I have been a judgemental person, simply because life was divided into what was right and what was wrong - people who were right behaved like "this" and people who were wrong behaved like "that". I judged myself according to those standards. I harshly judged others according to the same standards and in the end there were no winners because none of us are anywhere near capable of living up to them.

I harshly judged my husband daily. Out of my own insecurities I expected him to never forget his shortcomings. If I was motivated by love, then I should have just let him walk his own path and concentrated on my own healing journey. I needed to be the change I wanted to see in my world.

I now understand what people meant when they said they felt judged by me. I did, and harshly. This wiser head would let them be. This wiser me would just love them but continue on my own life path towards my own healing. Having my eldest daughter live away from home these past two years has also helped me realise this. There have been many things she has gotten into and done that worried my mother-heart and I had to fight my own inclination to come down heavy and read the moral riot act and to rescue her from a few less than safe situations.However, I know that if I did she possibly wouldn't have figured out her own life path. It took HER wanting to take control of her own life to stimulate her into instigating change.

In this journey to the mirror I have seen my own ugliness reflecting back. I didn't like what I saw, so it was up to me to do something about it. I began to see that other people in my world were also mirrors. Traits that I found annoying or undesirable or just plain ugly in others would make me think and reflect about myself. I began to see that I was seeing my own tendencies reflected back. I began to work on changing them in myself and let people be who they were, with no judgement. I began to respond to people in a more positive manner, rather than with suspicion. Since then I have been blessed with how responsive and friendly people are in my daily encounters. Smiles from strangers, a cheery, "Good morning!" when on a walk or a jog, people simply just passing on useful information when we are out having fun as a family, the kids at G's school being friendly and courteous. What's changed? My outlook on the world!

There will be other mirrors along this path. Right now I'm liking what I'm seeing in this one. There will be times where I won't, in which case I will reflect and continue on my own journey towards change. Life is good and green and challenging and exciting; filled with possibility and hope.

What the photos don't show.

We gotta get us one of these!

I must preface this entry by saying that I don't resent what follows one bit. I'm simply writing it as a statement of what life is for us. All of us have accepted this reality and are at peace with it.

A trip to the beach is not easy. Once we're there and have secured our spot on the sand reasonably close to the water it's easier but the actual getting there and then packing up and heading home is, for me at least, exhausting.

Beaches are not made for wheelchairs; or maybe I should say, wheelchairs are not made for beaches. I have often said that some clever person should invent the "Hover Chair" so that one can just hover over the sand and stop at the waters edge if one wants a swim. I have seen a wheelchair with tracks like a tank which would possibly also do the trick but finances don't allow for anything so expensive, let alone something that would only be used sporadically and that we have no way of transporting anyway.

But no, wheelchairs are not made for beaches. However, I've never wanted the girls to miss out on a wonderful beach experience. As a family we've always loved the beach and I've never wanted the girls to ever miss out because their disabilities have posed a challenge.

And so I carry them down to the waters edge. I always have and, for as long as my body let's me, I always will. And yes it's exhausting, yes it's sometimes painful, but I've challenged myself to never let them feel as though having to do it is a burden to me. We've made it into a game on many an occasion; we've pretended we're the girls from Rabbit Proof Fence, trekking through the desert trying to get home. We've laughed. They know it's hard and I know they worry for me but it's more important to me that we have shared, happy family experiences together and I'd rather be uncomfortable for a short while than all of us miss out on something we love to do just because it all just seems too hard.

And I know the girls don't take it for granted. Between us there is a beautiful level of respect and gratefulness. I am so blessed to have such thoughtful, loving, positive kids. They make all the extra tasks that are part of their package into things I feel honored to be able to do for them, rather than being a burden. When they can, they try and make things as easy as possible for me. I look at them in awe sometimes because their positive, calm nature just astounds me.

So that's what you don't see in the pictures, but I'm kind of glad you don't because you see the important part; the greater part. You see a family just enjoying an evening on the beach.

Lasso the moon

There are times where you just have to say, "Hang it all!" and get out there and do something that soothes the soul and reconnects you to those you love.

Yesterday would have been the tenth birthday of Chloe's little dog Lucy. Chloe still misses her and wanted to do something to commemorate the day so we decided to go to the beach - Lucy's most favorite place in all the world - and have some fish and chips and watch the sun go down.

It was a magical evening; balmy and peaceful. We laughed and made up stories about the flock of seagulls that were waiting rather impatiently for even a hint that we were going to toss them some of our food.

Pick the bossy one!

Georgia quoted Shakespeare to them as they seemed to have some kind of power struggle happening.

When the evening was drawing to a close, Chloe said that she lassoed the moon with a golden thread and tied it to the car so it could follow us home.

I love the way she thinks. At the age of 22 she hasn't lost that childlike magic.