You never know the impact your blog post will have

I read a lot of blog posts. Loads of them.

I love being able to be a little inside the minds of others. I love to read about what happens in their worlds and draw inspiration from their insights. I hope too, that ocasionally I can offer insight back in return.

As a parent, and particularly as a parent of a child with special needs, it is an absolute gift to have access to the often wise words from our global internet village of mums and dads. Parenting can be an isolating gig and sometimes it strikes me as a wee bit sad that the actual, real life village is often not there and for many of us, there is this, blog and social media land, to make these connections. But no matter because I reckon the universe gives you what you need when you need it. Perhaps where it comes from is not important.

Every now and then, I read a blog post that literally shifts something in me. A post that connects with me, speaks to me, takes some issue I have been struggling with into a new paradigm. That happened to me the day before yesterday when I came across this post. Ruth from Gourmet Girlfriend writes sagely in the post about fussy eating and her approach to feeding her kids - and when I started to read, I sat up and really took notice. She knows stuff - she has five, yes, 5 boys. So run away now and read the post and come back if you like...

I cried when I read it because I realised just how much I have been beating myself up about what the Batsman and the Bowler will and won't eat. The Batsman's sensory sensitivities (thank you autism, not), add a layer of complication to the eating caper that at many a dinner time has figuratively brought me to my parenting knees. I'm not going to air that pain here because I just don't want to give it any more power.

So I read Ruth's post and since I did I have been:

• reading cookbooks and food magazines and getting re-inspired about things I can cook for us to eat as a family.
• consciously reminding myself to let go of the stress and self flogging that for such a long time has gone with feeding the boys.
• feeling freed up
• going back and reading the post a few more times!

Something has shifted in my mind about this whole issue. It feels great.
Tonight, for the first time ever, yes EVER, the Batsman ate pieces of chicken breast that hadn't been chopped, minced, hidden or otherwise kitchen modified. He ate beautiful, crumbed and seasoned chunks of chicken breast. He chewed and chatted and swallowed without angst or upset.

It was amazing. And I can't help but think that perhaps Ruth's post had more than a little to do with it. The universe gives you what you need.

And what I want to say most of all is that we all have this most amazing opportunity when we blog, to put words out there for others to read and be inspired by. You never know the impact your blog post will have.









Image via we heart it

A beach of our own

We are at the beach this week. It's a much needed break for all of us to be together, away from the routine, to collect our thoughts and have some fun. It's peaceful and we feel so lucky to be here.

Today the Batsman really needed some one on one time. Increasingly he needs time without the rough and tumble of play with our ever busy Bowler who is currently two and a half years old but thinks he is fourteen.

I love the beach. Over the years I have grown to love it more when the weather is cooler and the beach is more likely to be quiet. We certainly picked our day and our weather today. When we reached our destination the beach was ours. Deserted. Empty except for me and my boy.

Beaches are amazing aren't they? There is something about the beach that, in my mind at least, helps people be closer to their truer selves. I felt my mind and body exhale as the Batsman and I found a little spot to sit. A place to settle in and be together.

He ran. He dug holes. He threw big pieces of seaweed into the waves. He covered his feet in sand. We laughed. We had a cuddle while the cool wind blew around us. His little body, sometimes just a bit stiff and contorted with anxiety, was visibly more relaxed. Freer. More like himself.

It was a beach of our own and we loved it.

Do you love the beach? What do you love most about it?

Dear Labor Party

Dear Labor Party,

I'm done.
I quit.
You and me, we are breaking up.

I just can't do it anymore.
It was a long time ago that I signed that membership form and paid my fees. Years and years.

For me, ever since, it has been about wanting to belong to a political party that was working to make our country better. Especially, I wanted, to be part of something that would make things better for those most disadvantaged in our society, that would uphold human rights, protect those with disabilities, look after the rights and safety of workers, provide services to those who needed them most...all the while maintaining a strong education system, a good solid economy, a society that valued diversity.

Your proud history tells me that for a very long time, the party and its work were about exactly these things. I like to think they still are. It's just that now, we can't see it. Those commitments and principles have disappeared from view.

No-one ever said politics was a pretty game. By its very nature, the grasping of power was never meant to be for the faint hearted. But with this latest leadership skirmish, we all witness the most unedifying scenes possible. Labor Party, your dirty undies are on show. Everyone is watching and well, it's embarassing.

But it's not just that its embarassing. It's deeper than that, much deeper. My eldest son has autism. He and many thousands of similarly affected kids across Australia need early intervention services at a much greater level than they currently receive. There are people suffering from all manner of mental health issues, all over the country. They need services and care greater than is currently available. There are thousands of homeless people in Australia who sleep rough. There are asylum seekers languishing in detention centres who need us, a civilised, democratic country, to uphold their rights and offer protection where it's due. Labor Party, do I need to go on?

So while you bicker, count numbers, destabilise, declare loyalty, challenge, backstab and bitch, I can only surmise that the stuff that needs to be getting done, the stuff that matters, isn't getting done. And Labor Party, that's not just embarassing, it's pretty fucking offensive.

Over the years I have worked on lots of Labor election campaigns. I have helped to get some good, decent people elected to state and federal parliaments. I believed in them. I still believe in them now. It's just that this party structure and the way things are done around here is broken, really broken, and I just can't put my heart and mind in there anymore.

So Labor Party, don't bother sending me a renewal form next month. I won't be needing it.

Do better. The country needs a better version of you. Really. Truly.

Dude, where's my confidence?



It became clear to me yesterday.
There is something missing.
From me.
My confidence is in hiding. Not all the time but certainly for enough of the time for me to become aware of the absence.

I have started working for a few hours a week. In a lovely gourmet deli. I slice meats. I scoop olives and dips. I serve coffees. I clear tables. I suggest ingredients for home cooked meals.
It's my first paid work since the birth of the Bowler two and a half years ago.
I love it.

In my life before my children, I worked in a fairly senior role for a non-profit organisation. I managed large, complex events. I co-ordinated senior meetings. I handled delicate political conversations and relationships. I wrote  submissions to government. For the most part I did it with what I think was professionalism, compassion, grace and a very real air of confidence in myself and my abilities.

But I disgress.
The deli.
A customer orders his deli items. He wants loads of ham, salami, olives and artichokes. He wants marinated octopus and eggplant dip. I am scrambling to get it all done efficiently. The slicer is challenging. And then he barks at me, something to do with the thickness of the ham. He is rude and not a little arrogant. I nod apologetically and keep going. I just want it to be over. I finish his order and he pays his bill.

Before, I would have been more able to shrug it off. I would have dealt with someone difficult like that with confidence and aplomb. It wouldn't have thrown me as much as this small encounter did.

So it would seem that yes, dude, my confidence is missing. I know I am not the first mum returning to work to feel like that. The question is: where has it gone and how do I get it back?

Have you ever felt like this? Do you have any helpful handy hints for me? I would be ever so grateful.

Image via we heart it

It doesn't always work out how you plan - or would you like to win some tickets to Melbourne Museum?

Sometimes, as much as you plan things, they just don't work out.

Such was the way with a recently planned trip to go to Melbourne Museum. I had gratefully accepted some  tickets and with a small gap in the early intervention therapy schedule, had planned to dash to the museum with the Batsman one sunny morning and see the performance of "Tiddalick, the thirsty frog". We were, it seemed, all systems go.

If you read here a bit, and here, you will know that our beloved Batsman has autism. Some days he can cope with noise and crowds and lots of excitement and some days he just can't. On the morning of our planned museum trip, his anxiety levels were obvious and high. I was disappointed but knew in my heart that I couldn't risk putting him in a situation that was not going to be great for him that day. So we pulled the pin and didn't go. We had a lovely home day with books and games and dvd watching at home. And, he loved it.

So you see, I was all ready to do my Product Talk by Nuffnang and then in swooped autism anxiety. Such is life. 

Luckily, we are pretty regular visitors to the museum, and I can solidly vouch for the quality of experience you will have if you take your kids there for a visit. The thoughtfulness of the layout and diversity of displays pretty much mean that however you look at it, there is something for everyone. We last visited in August 2011 and here are a couple of pics so that you can see what the Batsman got up to.

As you can see, he loves the museum and all it has to offer. Just as long as it's an autism good day, not a bad one. And well, on the bad days, a boy and his mum just gotta do what they gotta do.

Like to win 3 free adult tickets for the museum? I have 3 adult tickets (valid to June 30 2012) to give away and I am giving them all to one lucky reader, mainly because that is the simple way to do it and also because it's fun to get a posse together and go to the museum in a gang. If you would like to win, leave me a comment here before Sunday February 19 at midnight telling me a favourite place you liked to visit as a child. Also please make sure you leave me an email address so I can contact you if you win. I will mail out the tickets to the randomly picked winner. Easy peasy.

Disclaimer: I received 3 free adult entry tickets to the Melbourne Museum. I did not use them but am giving them to you (if you win)! This is part of a Product Talk by Nuffnang. Opinions are my own. I did not receive any payment for this post. The end.

Happy 5th Birthday Batsman

February 8, 2007

February 8, 2008

February 8, 2009

February 8, 2010

February 8, 2011

February 8, 2012

I am emotional and filled with nostalgia. 

I am in disbelief that I am the mum of a 5 year old.

Especially one as gorgeous as this.

This time 5 years ago, I had just given birth to a tiny but beautiful baby boy.

What a great joy and privilege the last 5 years have been with you my son.

You have already taught me more than I could ever hope to teach you in a lifetime.

Brave, determined, quirky, loving, pure of heart.

Happy 5th Birthday, our precious Batsman.

You completely rock my world.

We love you so much xoxo

My handwriting and a rainbow lolly cake I made

Handwriting is fascinating. I bet even the most amateur of psychologists could come up with a whole lot of neurotic cool stuff about what mine says about me. Thanks beautiful Eden for the link opportunity.

And just for a bit of sugary goodness on a Saturday night. Here is a cake I made for a family birthday celebration that's happening tomorrow.

Have a beautiful weekend everyone.