Momma on duty

There's one thing they (Who, by the way, is THEY? We keep referring to the ever wise they but never really acknowledge who They are!) never told me when I found out I was to be a mama was how much my soul would be knit to this tiny little creature.

They never told me that the knitting of these souls would never, ever be undone.

I kind of expected the love bit. That was a given. I didn't expect that it might need to develop though. I didn't necessarily feel this rush of maternal live for my firstborn infant. I kind of liken it to a fascinated curiosity I suppose. Who was this new little person that they'd just placed in my lap and said she was mine? And FYI c-sections under general anaesthetic suck - just putting it out there!

But this...knitting, I never expected.

All of a sudden I cared about someone else more than I cared for myself. My eyes could have been hanging out of my head, body unwashed, not being able to remember when I'd last eaten a proper meal, but as long as she was safe, healthy, warm, well fed, dressed and happy then my world was OK and I had everything I needed.

No one told me that when she was sick I'd walk through hell barefoot just to get her well again.

No one told me about the anxiety that would keep moths the size of eagles fluttering in my belly and chest when something wasn't right.

Or how much, when there were surgeries and sickness and pain that I'd wish I could trade places and do it all for them instead.

Well I'm here to tell YOU. Those little bundles just grab your heart and soul and mind and they never, ever let go. Ever. They might be adults, with lives of their own and they still have your heart. It matters what happens to them. It matters when they're still so sick that they can barely sit up in bed, exhausted from the effort of trying to cough up a lung during the night and, in fact, throughout the previous three nights. It matters when they suffer a disappointment or a heartbreak or the frustration of trying to move forward but having to battle ridiculous government bureaucracy and red tape.

It matters, and will continue to matter. I know that now.

No one told me that one of the hardest parts is knowing the right time to take your hands off and let them work it out on their own. I wish I had've recognised that earlier. My own fear held them back. I know that now too. They had the potential to fly sooner. It was their mother that kept their wings from unfurling.

No one told me that parenting is a never ending field of discovery for the parent too; that when you become an adult you don't always feel like one. You're still learning, figuring it out on the fly. You make mistakes, sometimes big ones but you just have to get back up and keep working it out. Sometimes there are days where you just want to sob into your own Mama's chest and stop being an adult, even just for a few brief moments. And you realise that all along, your own Mama possibly had times just like this too.

I'm now way closer to fifty than I am to forty, my kids are all grown and yet they still hold my heart so tightly. It still matters that they are well fed, safe, healthy, happy. Their well being still takes precedence over my own.

I think that's the way its supposed to be.

Rub it out, start again.

Hi there readers.

I know I've been AWOL. As a blogger I'm acutely aware of this. I've been thinking a lot. During those times I've had periods where I've just wanted to grab the keyboard and write and write through an inspirational stream of consciousness. There have been many other times where I've just wanted to pull the plug on this blogging business....well....this one in particular. I find that I don't know how to write my experiences of being a person of short stature because...well...it's just me doing life. Doing life at 117cm is pretty much the same as it is at 185cm...I guess. Nothing much to report really. My spine is doing great, no tingling or numbness anywhere - which is pretty cool considering my age. Still...I never know what's around the corner but I'll cross that bridge if ever I happen to come across it in my travels. 

I've been thinking of simply rubbing all this out and starting again mainly because the biggest journey I have taken is the journey towards wellness - physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually - and I want to talk more about that. This is a journey that I think everyone can relate to so maybe I will just be adding to the myriad of blogs out there dedicated to the same things. I don't know. There have been times I've thought about rubbing all this out and not starting again at all. I'm not a consistent blogger, I don't stick to a theme, I don't network. I suck. 

I keep thinking of the concept of Girl Interrupted. It's certainly felt like that for me. Girlhood was interrupted at the age of nineteen for me, and now I've had the chance to start agin in my 40's. I'm discovering so many new things, confronting a lot of old things and working out exactly who Leisa is without all her props - standing alone. Should I write about that? Does anyone want to read about all that? Should anyone read about all that? Is this journey simply a private matter? All of these questions I ponder often as I run, commute or stare off into space. 

Just so it's out there, I'm in therapy. Two lots of therapy to be honest. One to work on just me, the other to work on....other stuff. I gotta say that personal therapy has to be the best thing ever invented. I've been seeing this particular therapist on and off for the better part of fifteen years and each time I head in for another group of the allotted 10 mental health plan sessions (Because the 11th Commandment states that: "Thou shalt be mentally well and sorted out after 10 sessions or else!") it's such a relief to know that I don't have to waste time going through all the background junk because.....you know, TEN SESSIONS ONLY! Whose got time for background stuff?

Anyway...my therapist has well and truly gotten the impression that I mean business this time. I think he worked that out by session one when I came in with something I'd written and read it out loud to him. I could see him mentally pulling up his sleeves, rubbing his hands together and saying, "Right!" It's good to be able to talk with someone objective; whose not emotionally invested. You can say whatever you need to say without fear of upsetting anyone, offending anyone or treading on eggshells. Because of this, you gain clearer insights, start to see a way forward, work on your own goals and formulate strategies on how to get there. 

Why people are afraid to say they're in therapy or counselling is beyond me. It's such a positive and powerful thing to do. Nothing to be ashamed of. 

Thanks for listening. 

31 Days - An update on my most popular post - where are we now?

My most - read post was the tribute I wrote to Stella Young.

http://www.lifeatmylevel.blogspot.com.au/2014/12/stop-all-clocks-you-broke-internet-stell.html

It has been almost six months since Stella's passing and I have to say that there are days where the disbelief still hits me right between the eyes.

She was just so alive, so vital, so incredibly happy the last time I saw her. It was easy to believe that Stella was invincible. She just loved people; she loved life.
All of us who were so blessed to call her a personal friend miss her beyond belief...and always will.

I think of her when I stop at South Yarra station. I think of her when my train pulls into Richmond. My heart is joyous when I hear Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson.  I feel her encouraging me to continue to get proud by practicing and I know she'd be super proud of my daughter Sarah jetting off to LA on her own.

I don't understand why she only got such a short time but oh my gosh, she was so alive while she was here. She did so much, loved so much and was loved so incredibly by so many people. What a good life. What an amazing life.

If I'm only a fraction of who she was, then I've had a great life indeed.

31 Days - A review of something I have used, read or eaten lately

Last night, on a whim, I decided that my top lip needed waxing...or something.  I normally use Nair to chemically burn it all off but this time I couldn't be bothered having something stinky under my nose for twenty minutes. I found these in the cupboard and decided to wax them off. I'd used wax strip before. Although they weren't painless, they were quick. Warm them up between your hands, smooth them on, rip them off...what could go wrong?

I'd never used this brand before but wax strip are wax strips...they're all the same so I didn't even bother pulling out the instructions to read them before I used them.

Bad idea.

These babies are waxy, like, super waxy! They take off the hair alright...and the top layer of skin.

I knew I'd gotten into trouble when I saw a line of blood after I'd quickly ripped off the strip, stifling a squeal of pain as I did so.

I should have read the instructions that stated that waxy residue would only come off with the accompanying Waxing Oil or After Care Lotion...of which we had none. No amount of toner or moisturizer would soothe the burning sensation or remove the sticky residue.

I spent an uncomfortable night.

Today it looks as though I've been eating something...brownish. My top lip is scabbing over...and it's sore and stinging. Lucky I have cool fingers. I'm pressing them to my lip for some relief.

I won't be using these again. If I don't stick to the Nair creme I think I might go for some professional waxing...or read instructions thoroughly before I attempt a home job again.

Don't like these at all.

Ouch!

31 Days - Something I found

Ok so let's churn out these last few, hey?

Something I found.

I found running...or it found me...or we both found each other, and in the process I found me.

I went to see my psychologist yesterday. God love my psychologist - I know I do. I've been seeing him on and off for fifteen years. Anyway we were talking about activities or actions that bring a person back into themselves. He was saying that people who engage in self harm activities can often do so to bring themselves back into themselves. He suggested that this is what running is for me; that it brings me back into myself again. I tend to agree. After a run I feel so very present and aware of myself, my surroundings, my body and my thoughts. Running slows everything down so that I can find myself again. I feel that the world makes sense when I run...or after I run.

I found running...or it found me...or we both found each other...and in the process I found me.

31 Days - What I want to be when I grow up

One thing no one told me as a child was that when you're an adult there are times - sometimes many times - where you don't feel like a grown up at all. For a long time when I became a wife and mother I would stop and say, "What? Hang on. I'm a MOTHER? I'm a grown up?" It never felt quite real and even now at the age of 48 I still catch myself feeling incredulous that I am in fact, a grown up.

No one told me that that young girl would still exist in my heart and soul and I'd still feel like throwing out all form of responsibility and just run naked down a sand dune in the middle of summer.

Not that I ever did that mind you....but it's on the Bucket List!

All I ever really wanted to do when I grew up was be a mother. I loved taking care of my dolls as a little girl. I loved it when my Mum would have another baby and there'd be this brand new little someone in the house to love. It was so special, so magical. I have to admit that my own initial foray into motherhood wasn't teh lovely, romantic thing I had envisaged, but when that round, warm little body was placed into my arms I was so incredibly hooked and I felt as though I was finally doing what I was born to do.

I know there are countless women out there who don't see motherhood like that, but I did. I've come to realise that just because I never wanted a high-falutin' career nor did I have lofty ambitions that didn't make me any less of a feminist.

So I guess you could say that I became what I wanted to be - a MOTHER.

But when I REALLY am grown up - I want to be a GRANDMOTHER! Then I think I will finally accept the fact that I am indeed, a grown up.

31 Days - Thank you to a thing I love

In rehearsal with Weave.

Dear Dance,

You thought I was going to write a Thank You to Running, didn't you? No, this time it's you.

You have lived within me for as long as I can remember. Ever since I chose that hot pink leotard and slippers and pink headband, you've resided within. I loved ballet. I can easily remember those classes in the Yarram Hall. I can still hear some of the music Mrs Stoddart played as she would have us practice positions, skips, gallops. I still remember the positions of hands and feet. I can hear Mrs Stoddart instructing us as we stood at the barre, "Point, lift, point, close!" I can still remember focusing on the EXIT sign so I wouldn't get dizzy whilst spinning. Hearing some of the music from Disney ' s Fantasia always takes me back to being on stage for Alice In Wonderland.

When we left in 1974 that heralded the end of my formal ballet training but oh how I missed you! I begged to go to classes in the towns we ended up in but it wasn't to be. Still, you stayed within and I found myself choreographing my own routines to music I loved. Looking back on it now some of the moves were ridiculous but I loved creating and moving. Sometimes friends would join me and we'd create routines to perform for the class. Simon Smith and His Amazing Dancing Bear and The Rainmaker being two memorable ones!

I've loved you for as long as I can remember as you've helped me release some of the in explainable emotions that seem too big to express sometimes.

Thanks to being involved with Weave I've finally found a place where I've been able to explore the dance in new ways. Here I've discovered that there are so many ways that dance can be created and explored.

THANK you for bringing me to a place where I've finally "landed in my own skin" and become appreciative and grateful for this body I inhabit. You've been the facilitator for this and I'm so incredibly glad that I've been given a chance to be able to express myself through you.