Its hard to do both. Gran is dying. It won't be long. At the moment our family is often together, sharing ourselves between homes and the hospital, being with her, being with each other. Its hard to let go. Its hard to not want to do everything you can to keep them present in your life because that's how its always been. Next to my parents and siblings, my grandparents have known me the longest. They have passed on their wisdom to the later generations.
But then it is time to let go. A time to release the person into the arms of our loving God, trusting in the mercy and grace of our Saviour who died for us. We have to let go because we can't keep holding someone back from where they are meant to be. At some point we all go on further. We continue our journey into the much-anticipated unknown, but its something we must do by ourselves, or rather, hand in hand with God.
And so we hold onto each other. And we hold onto the promises of God. We remember the good things, the funny things, the quirky things. We hold onto the person that Gran really is, not a frail shadow lying in a hospital bed, but the beautiful woman with the warm smile who loved to play the piano and listen to us play and sing for her. The woman who would always have special wine glasses for us to drink out of and who often forgot the garlic bread when we sat down to dinner. The woman who thought nothing of making huge pavlovas at Christmas but always claiming she couldn't do fruit cake. Gran the collector of beautiful and precious things and who would give us generous monetary gifts just because she could.
Gran, I've said goodbye. I'll never forget you. Arohanui and farewell. Godspeed. Please know that God is a loving and gracious God and has hands open to receive you.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Saturday, June 4, 2011
The Kindness of Friends
I've been tired lately. There is a reason and its not really anything I've done per se although we could call it an inevitable consequence of a choice made. More on that later.
Anyway, the other day I was tired. And I must have looked tired as I ran into a friend and she said a day or two later that she was wondering if I was okay (must have looked a train wreck actually). And she called and offered dinner. I thanked her and said yes.
Its funny how hard it can be to say yes to offers of help. You say things like "Oh no, we're fine" or "Don't worry, its not a problem" or "You don't have to do that". Generationally developed independence seems to have made us reluctant to admit that things are difficult or hard. We keep ourselves closed off, loath to admit that maybe things are difficult, challenging or just downright crappy. My grandparents are often heard to say things like "oh I didn't want to worry you" or "I don't want to be any trouble". We try to shut people out of our lives, or rather, the fullness of our lives. We show our best face to the outside world and try to hide the part that is less shiny and clear.
I sometimes wonder why we don't share the hard parts. Do we not want to worry people with our 'trivia' even if it is very real for us? Should we not let people worry and care for us? Should we not deny the privilege of people experiencing real concern for us. Isn't it the sacrifice of love, the worry and concern about others? As we make ourselves vulnerable we are open to the potential for worry or hurt. Isn't that what we are called to do?
We are called to love and we are called to live in community. We are called to love one another. Love is a verb, it is action. It is meals, phone calls, texts, help, visiting, prayer. It is encouragment and nurturing. And I blessed to have people in my life who do this for me on a regular basis. So my friend Sarah dropped around a meal, just because she thought I could do with a wee break around dinner time. A while ago I'd had a rough week, not a lot of sleep and felt quite stressed out. I visited some friends who know me far too well and they were immediately concerned about my wellbeing. They fed me. Gave me something to drink. Let me sit and talk as we watched our children dismantle their house and toys. They showed such love and care that I almost cried with gratitude. They hugged me as we left and called the next day to say that they loved me and were concerned for me. In that time I felt so nurtured and cared for. And I know that my friends have their own struggles and in one way I wouldn't have wanted to burden them with my own petty concerns, but I am glad that I did because it helped.
The funny thing is that none of these people would label themselves as Christian yet they show such depth of love that its hard to believe otherwise. They show selflessness. They show a practical, real, tangible love. God works through them in my life so often that they are one of the many blessings that I count on a regular basis.
I think as you have more children and as life gets full on and busy, its easier to let go of pride and pretense and be real. I admit that I am not the worlds best housekeeper. I am frequently behind in household tasks and sometimes we dress ourselves from the clean washing pile (incidently I heard of one Mum who used to put all the clean clothes in a huge chest and her kids would just rummage through it daily to find something to wear - I call that genius). Sometimes I give in and let my daughter wear slippers out just because I don't feel like the drama of yet another confrontation. When my littlest girl gets covered in paint and play dough at playgroup, I don't usually bother changing her clothes when we get home, because they'll just get dirty again. Sometimes I even go out in track pants that my sister assures me SHOULD NOT be worn outside of the house. And on those days I don't mind. I am learning how to be real. I am learning to be able to look at the whole picture and see a family who love each other, who have lovely homemade food to eat, a fire to keep us warm and snuggly beds to sleep in. A family who have a number of funny jokes that are part of our daily life. A family who are surrounded by people who deeply care about us and show us in a myriad of different ways how much they love us.
We are blessed. We are real. We experience the kindness of friends. We experience the love of God. Life doesn't get any better really, even if its difficult.
Anyway, the other day I was tired. And I must have looked tired as I ran into a friend and she said a day or two later that she was wondering if I was okay (must have looked a train wreck actually). And she called and offered dinner. I thanked her and said yes.
Its funny how hard it can be to say yes to offers of help. You say things like "Oh no, we're fine" or "Don't worry, its not a problem" or "You don't have to do that". Generationally developed independence seems to have made us reluctant to admit that things are difficult or hard. We keep ourselves closed off, loath to admit that maybe things are difficult, challenging or just downright crappy. My grandparents are often heard to say things like "oh I didn't want to worry you" or "I don't want to be any trouble". We try to shut people out of our lives, or rather, the fullness of our lives. We show our best face to the outside world and try to hide the part that is less shiny and clear.
I sometimes wonder why we don't share the hard parts. Do we not want to worry people with our 'trivia' even if it is very real for us? Should we not let people worry and care for us? Should we not deny the privilege of people experiencing real concern for us. Isn't it the sacrifice of love, the worry and concern about others? As we make ourselves vulnerable we are open to the potential for worry or hurt. Isn't that what we are called to do?
We are called to love and we are called to live in community. We are called to love one another. Love is a verb, it is action. It is meals, phone calls, texts, help, visiting, prayer. It is encouragment and nurturing. And I blessed to have people in my life who do this for me on a regular basis. So my friend Sarah dropped around a meal, just because she thought I could do with a wee break around dinner time. A while ago I'd had a rough week, not a lot of sleep and felt quite stressed out. I visited some friends who know me far too well and they were immediately concerned about my wellbeing. They fed me. Gave me something to drink. Let me sit and talk as we watched our children dismantle their house and toys. They showed such love and care that I almost cried with gratitude. They hugged me as we left and called the next day to say that they loved me and were concerned for me. In that time I felt so nurtured and cared for. And I know that my friends have their own struggles and in one way I wouldn't have wanted to burden them with my own petty concerns, but I am glad that I did because it helped.
The funny thing is that none of these people would label themselves as Christian yet they show such depth of love that its hard to believe otherwise. They show selflessness. They show a practical, real, tangible love. God works through them in my life so often that they are one of the many blessings that I count on a regular basis.
I think as you have more children and as life gets full on and busy, its easier to let go of pride and pretense and be real. I admit that I am not the worlds best housekeeper. I am frequently behind in household tasks and sometimes we dress ourselves from the clean washing pile (incidently I heard of one Mum who used to put all the clean clothes in a huge chest and her kids would just rummage through it daily to find something to wear - I call that genius). Sometimes I give in and let my daughter wear slippers out just because I don't feel like the drama of yet another confrontation. When my littlest girl gets covered in paint and play dough at playgroup, I don't usually bother changing her clothes when we get home, because they'll just get dirty again. Sometimes I even go out in track pants that my sister assures me SHOULD NOT be worn outside of the house. And on those days I don't mind. I am learning how to be real. I am learning to be able to look at the whole picture and see a family who love each other, who have lovely homemade food to eat, a fire to keep us warm and snuggly beds to sleep in. A family who have a number of funny jokes that are part of our daily life. A family who are surrounded by people who deeply care about us and show us in a myriad of different ways how much they love us.
We are blessed. We are real. We experience the kindness of friends. We experience the love of God. Life doesn't get any better really, even if its difficult.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
It isn't over
I don't deny that I have a deep distaste for war and violence. I find the idea of killing another person abhorrent. All life is sacred. And so when you hear that someone has died, someone who is blamed for the deaths of many, while I wonder if I should be happy and relieved, I mostly feel apathy. And I think I feel that because I don't think it will make a difference. Not really.
I am sure it makes a difference to those who saw this person as the reason behind the deaths of people they love. The reason why their country felt it had to defend itself outside their own borders. The reason why the world is such a mess. Maybe it brings those people some measure of comfort or peace, I don't know.
But you see it won't bring peace. This person is just one person and violence and war is a evil and multifaceted thing. There are hundreds more like this person. Some are on his side. Some are on our side. Where the only solution is death it makes us question... what is life?
I don't believe that humans were created to decide someone elses worth and to exercise that judgement. Only God should really have that responsibility. It reminds me of a theme in Harry Potter. In these books, a young wizard ends up fighting the most evil wizard ever. It is a classic tale of good triumphing over evil. The evil wizard has sought to make himself invincible by spliting his soul and secreting the pieces in other objects... so he can never truly die. And to split a soul you are required to kill another. There is a bit more to it and that but the idea of murder splitting souls resonated with me.
Back in the real world, the more I thought about it, the more I believe that taking another life does split our soul. And if it happens on an individual level, so if lives are taken on a collective level, as it is through war or violence, I think it probably splits the soul of humanity. Of our communities and of our society.
War doesn't actually bring peace. Not really. Weapons don't bring security. Not really. Taking someones life does not make our life safer. So I am not happy that this person has died. War hasn't stopped. The violence is still there. There is still a deep hatred and fear intrenched in so many. Using the same weapons as the enemy doesn't make us any better.
I don't know what the answer is. I believe that Jesus holds the key but I don't know how that is going to happen or when. I do believe that as a member of the Kingdom of God, I have a responsibility to embrace and extend peace and grace to others. And that's all I can do. If I can do that in my small part of the world then maybe its a start.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
No darling, water and paper does not make fire..
One thing I have found as a parent is that the questions never stop. Not only is my life full of near-constant requests for food, drink, entertainment, assistance with clothing, toileting and to stop the littlest person pushing the button on the DVD player but there are also the deep and meaningful ones. I admit that I was initially prepared for the constant Why questions and they haven't eventuated but other ones have.
D has had a bit of a thing about fire for a while. Not that he is a pyromaniac thankfully but he's very into fire fighters. He was part of some sort of safety talk at preschool about fire safety. That week he was absolutely paranoid about something spontaneously combusting. From then on in we had questions about whether ANYTHING would cause a fire. Water and paper. Paper and crayon. Wood and water. Concrete and food. If he touched something (you name it, a rock, dirt, a piece of paper, his plate). My attempts to get him to think about it himself were in vain, he needed the reassurance that we were not going to burn down any second.
Then there was the time he must have thought he had super powers or something...
"Mummy, did I break the guitar when I touched the case?"
"Did you knock it over?"
"No"
"Then it will be fine"
"Are you sure I didn't?"
"Yes sweetie, if you didn't knock it over then you wouldn't have broken it"
"But I think I did"
"Trust me, you didn't"
"But how do you know?"
"Because to break something you actually have to touch it and push it over and you didn't"
"Really?"
"Really".
And you should have heard the conversations at the dinner table when I was pregnant with A. Is the baby wearing clothes? Nappies? How does it get food? How will it come out? Can I watch?
C is also going through a questioning phase at the moment. Recently we had a family member die so we had LOTS of questions about death. When was I going to die? When was she going to die? When will Nana and Granddad die? What happens when we die? a question which D answered with all his five year old authority that we go to be with God but we don't come alive after three days because only Jesus did that. Truthfully I was relieved that he answered, not that I didn't know what to say but that I am now confident that D had realised that not everyone resurrects after three days which was a problem after the Easter story got a bit confusing a while back.
Today though I had a beautiful one.
"Mummy do you love me?"
"Yes I do, I love you very much?"
"Why?"
"Because you belong to us. I have loved you from the moment you were born".
Then she gave me her special 'Mummy and C smile'. She put her face towards me and closed her eyes and gave me the tiniest butterfly kiss. C is very sensitive to scent. And often when she cuddles in she will inhale my scent, like I would do when she was a baby and I'd smell her gorgeous milky newborn smell. When she kisses me like that, it is like she is inhaling my essence. And we had a proper cuddle, her soft cheek pressed against mine and for a moment it was just us.
It is those little moments that can carry me through the more challenging days.
D has had a bit of a thing about fire for a while. Not that he is a pyromaniac thankfully but he's very into fire fighters. He was part of some sort of safety talk at preschool about fire safety. That week he was absolutely paranoid about something spontaneously combusting. From then on in we had questions about whether ANYTHING would cause a fire. Water and paper. Paper and crayon. Wood and water. Concrete and food. If he touched something (you name it, a rock, dirt, a piece of paper, his plate). My attempts to get him to think about it himself were in vain, he needed the reassurance that we were not going to burn down any second.
Then there was the time he must have thought he had super powers or something...
"Mummy, did I break the guitar when I touched the case?"
"Did you knock it over?"
"No"
"Then it will be fine"
"Are you sure I didn't?"
"Yes sweetie, if you didn't knock it over then you wouldn't have broken it"
"But I think I did"
"Trust me, you didn't"
"But how do you know?"
"Because to break something you actually have to touch it and push it over and you didn't"
"Really?"
"Really".
And you should have heard the conversations at the dinner table when I was pregnant with A. Is the baby wearing clothes? Nappies? How does it get food? How will it come out? Can I watch?
C is also going through a questioning phase at the moment. Recently we had a family member die so we had LOTS of questions about death. When was I going to die? When was she going to die? When will Nana and Granddad die? What happens when we die? a question which D answered with all his five year old authority that we go to be with God but we don't come alive after three days because only Jesus did that. Truthfully I was relieved that he answered, not that I didn't know what to say but that I am now confident that D had realised that not everyone resurrects after three days which was a problem after the Easter story got a bit confusing a while back.
Today though I had a beautiful one.
"Mummy do you love me?"
"Yes I do, I love you very much?"
"Why?"
"Because you belong to us. I have loved you from the moment you were born".
Then she gave me her special 'Mummy and C smile'. She put her face towards me and closed her eyes and gave me the tiniest butterfly kiss. C is very sensitive to scent. And often when she cuddles in she will inhale my scent, like I would do when she was a baby and I'd smell her gorgeous milky newborn smell. When she kisses me like that, it is like she is inhaling my essence. And we had a proper cuddle, her soft cheek pressed against mine and for a moment it was just us.
It is those little moments that can carry me through the more challenging days.
Friday, April 8, 2011
Value me. Value her
Recently the government proposed changes to the existing welfare system which including strategies to reduce the number of people on benefits, including the DPB, the unemployment benefit and the sickness benefit.
If you cared to read the working report that these changed are based, and I have read most of it, you'd actually see that they didn't actually go to the very extreme options that were proposed. Part of me hopes that maybe those with the power realised that the extreme was just that, too extreme. The cynical part of me wonders whether they knew that by avoiding the extreme those with power start looking good… "look everyone it could be so much worse".
The thing I am finding sad right now is that suddenly women on benefits don't have a choice any more. The rules are going to be that once your child gets to about two or three then you're going to have to find work. Never mind that finding part time work is pretty hard. Never mind that you'd probably still have to find a bit extra to top up the daycare or preschool or creche hours. Never mind that you'd not actually earn enough to get off the benefit but you'd get your benefit reduced because you'd be earning to much to have it at its original level and you'd probably still need a top up from somewhere.
And never mind that you might want to stay at home with your children.
It is sad to me that there is a group of women who are trying to raise their kids in a pretty difficult situation and its going to get a lot harder. For some reason this mother is not considered as valuable as I am.
I don't earn any money at the moment. I haven't earned money in over 5 years. Not a cent. Not even anything under the table. In fact, we get extra money because I don't earn money. We get a welcome fortnightly payment because our income is low enough to warrant a bit of a break. Its a tax break they tell me.. its still money that the government can't use for something else though.
I want to stay at home with my kids and be there for them because I believe that its best for them. I want to know the minutiae of their day. I want to see their learning. I want to be there. I am pretty sure that a lot of solo Mum's would want the same. If anything they might want it more because they're all their kids have got day in and day out. The father/partner/boyfriend has gone and they're the ones holding it all together. But because they are receiving money from the government to help them do their parenting job they are seen as a drain on resources. Their job as a parent isn't valued.
So it makes me wonder. Does the government value parenting? I mean really. Do they see the benefits of children having contact with their parents for most of their day. Even 20 hours of free early childhood education leaves 148 hours a week in the direct care of a parent. Mostly a mother even in this day and age.
You see, I don't think we are valued. Parents that is. I think that because someone is not economically contributing then they are dismissed as useless. So as well as stay at home parents this would include the elderly, the disabled, the young. If we are not earning money somehow we are a drain. So the government focuses on a scapegoat, in this case the solo Mum, and says that she needs to work. Never mind that she is already doing a 24/7 week and that the other proposed changes to childcare regulations might make care provided for children downright risky (more on that later, believe me, the rant is coming). They can't touch the elderly, their vote counts too much. They can't touch the disabled, there would be an outcry. So they focus on one of more disadvantaged groups in society, perpetuate the myth of the dole bludging, constantly pregnant teenaged Mum who is on a benefit because of a lifestyle choice, and take away the choice of a whole group of women who already bear enough of a daily burden.
I'd like to see what I do be valued. I'd like to see what I do as being recognised as actually contributing to society even if I am not putting money in anyones bank account. I'd like to see the women who are raising their kids alone valued as people who are important in our community. They are trying to do the work of two people while having very little and it must be so hard. I am exhausted after a full day of caring for my lot and I have a husband who picks up more than just the slack and comes home every evening ready to do his part.
Value me. Value her. Value us. We're caring for our future.
If you cared to read the working report that these changed are based, and I have read most of it, you'd actually see that they didn't actually go to the very extreme options that were proposed. Part of me hopes that maybe those with the power realised that the extreme was just that, too extreme. The cynical part of me wonders whether they knew that by avoiding the extreme those with power start looking good… "look everyone it could be so much worse".
The thing I am finding sad right now is that suddenly women on benefits don't have a choice any more. The rules are going to be that once your child gets to about two or three then you're going to have to find work. Never mind that finding part time work is pretty hard. Never mind that you'd probably still have to find a bit extra to top up the daycare or preschool or creche hours. Never mind that you'd not actually earn enough to get off the benefit but you'd get your benefit reduced because you'd be earning to much to have it at its original level and you'd probably still need a top up from somewhere.
And never mind that you might want to stay at home with your children.
It is sad to me that there is a group of women who are trying to raise their kids in a pretty difficult situation and its going to get a lot harder. For some reason this mother is not considered as valuable as I am.
I don't earn any money at the moment. I haven't earned money in over 5 years. Not a cent. Not even anything under the table. In fact, we get extra money because I don't earn money. We get a welcome fortnightly payment because our income is low enough to warrant a bit of a break. Its a tax break they tell me.. its still money that the government can't use for something else though.
I want to stay at home with my kids and be there for them because I believe that its best for them. I want to know the minutiae of their day. I want to see their learning. I want to be there. I am pretty sure that a lot of solo Mum's would want the same. If anything they might want it more because they're all their kids have got day in and day out. The father/partner/boyfriend has gone and they're the ones holding it all together. But because they are receiving money from the government to help them do their parenting job they are seen as a drain on resources. Their job as a parent isn't valued.
So it makes me wonder. Does the government value parenting? I mean really. Do they see the benefits of children having contact with their parents for most of their day. Even 20 hours of free early childhood education leaves 148 hours a week in the direct care of a parent. Mostly a mother even in this day and age.
You see, I don't think we are valued. Parents that is. I think that because someone is not economically contributing then they are dismissed as useless. So as well as stay at home parents this would include the elderly, the disabled, the young. If we are not earning money somehow we are a drain. So the government focuses on a scapegoat, in this case the solo Mum, and says that she needs to work. Never mind that she is already doing a 24/7 week and that the other proposed changes to childcare regulations might make care provided for children downright risky (more on that later, believe me, the rant is coming). They can't touch the elderly, their vote counts too much. They can't touch the disabled, there would be an outcry. So they focus on one of more disadvantaged groups in society, perpetuate the myth of the dole bludging, constantly pregnant teenaged Mum who is on a benefit because of a lifestyle choice, and take away the choice of a whole group of women who already bear enough of a daily burden.
I'd like to see what I do be valued. I'd like to see what I do as being recognised as actually contributing to society even if I am not putting money in anyones bank account. I'd like to see the women who are raising their kids alone valued as people who are important in our community. They are trying to do the work of two people while having very little and it must be so hard. I am exhausted after a full day of caring for my lot and I have a husband who picks up more than just the slack and comes home every evening ready to do his part.
Value me. Value her. Value us. We're caring for our future.
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Feminism still needed (sigh)
Fifteen-odd years ago I would have said that we didn't need feminism. It was done and we didn't need someone to advocate for women.
Now with a few more years experience (and nothing makes you feel older than writing "fifteen-odd years ago" and still feeling like it was recent!) I have realised that sexism is still alive and well. And the saddest thing is that my daughter experienced it, or she would have had I not intervened. It made me so sad and angry to have to advocate for her to do something that she was not considered for solely due to her gender. It wasn't her age. It was that she is a girl. Had she been older it would have still been the same. Even writing this now gives me a kind of sick-sad feeling at the bottom of my stomach.
Growing up in an all girl family through the 80's gave me a lot of protection from sexism. The "Girls can do anything" advertising was all around. My parents never made me think that as a girl who would be a woman that I was any less capable or able than a boy who would be a man. Dad would always say he was happy with his three healthy girls and never wished any of us were a boy. He took me to rugby games and my Nana gave me a All Black sweatshirt that I'd wear during test matches. I learned a lot from watching rugby with Dad. In short I was raised to do the best I could and what I wanted to do. The fact that I was a girl was simply something that was. It was part of life.
The problem with sexism, racism, ageism is that it forgets the most basic thing of all - that all people are precious and we must treasure the intrinsic beauty that exists within us because we are all created by God and loved the same. Of course we all have different strengths. We have different personalities and some of those things might be shown in women or men more dominantly - or not. I am not saying that we should all BE the same or all DO the same things, that's not feminism. I mean that we are all worth the same, we should be equally valued and given the same opportunities regardless of gender. Whether we take those opportunities or not lies with us. But the choice should be made by the individual and not another person or institution based on gender.
It breaks my heart to think that my little girls are not as special as my little boy. My kids are different not just because of their gender but also because of their personalities and interests. And they will develop that as they get older. But their intrinsic worth is still the same. We will do our best to give our children the same opportunities. I love watching Dion with our kids actually. He built a playhouse recently for the kids and it was C who was up there handing him nails and hammers and who stuck around while he was doing it, long after her brother had disappeared off to do something else. She's got stickability.
There is also the more scary stuff... the fact that women are more likely to be abused in relationships (another situation where the intrinsic worth of someone is not respected or even acknowledged). Women becomes the target of welfare change because they are often left holding the babies. Women take longer to pay off student loans and earn less than a man dollar for dollar. The glass ceiling is still there.
Hopefully we'll raise our children to value the worth of others regardless of gender, race, age or religion. Hopefully our children will be able to stand up for themselves. I have no doubt that C will be capable of making herself heard as she gets older ;) and I am glad. Seems like she's still going to need to be a voice for others.
Now with a few more years experience (and nothing makes you feel older than writing "fifteen-odd years ago" and still feeling like it was recent!) I have realised that sexism is still alive and well. And the saddest thing is that my daughter experienced it, or she would have had I not intervened. It made me so sad and angry to have to advocate for her to do something that she was not considered for solely due to her gender. It wasn't her age. It was that she is a girl. Had she been older it would have still been the same. Even writing this now gives me a kind of sick-sad feeling at the bottom of my stomach.
Growing up in an all girl family through the 80's gave me a lot of protection from sexism. The "Girls can do anything" advertising was all around. My parents never made me think that as a girl who would be a woman that I was any less capable or able than a boy who would be a man. Dad would always say he was happy with his three healthy girls and never wished any of us were a boy. He took me to rugby games and my Nana gave me a All Black sweatshirt that I'd wear during test matches. I learned a lot from watching rugby with Dad. In short I was raised to do the best I could and what I wanted to do. The fact that I was a girl was simply something that was. It was part of life.
The problem with sexism, racism, ageism is that it forgets the most basic thing of all - that all people are precious and we must treasure the intrinsic beauty that exists within us because we are all created by God and loved the same. Of course we all have different strengths. We have different personalities and some of those things might be shown in women or men more dominantly - or not. I am not saying that we should all BE the same or all DO the same things, that's not feminism. I mean that we are all worth the same, we should be equally valued and given the same opportunities regardless of gender. Whether we take those opportunities or not lies with us. But the choice should be made by the individual and not another person or institution based on gender.
It breaks my heart to think that my little girls are not as special as my little boy. My kids are different not just because of their gender but also because of their personalities and interests. And they will develop that as they get older. But their intrinsic worth is still the same. We will do our best to give our children the same opportunities. I love watching Dion with our kids actually. He built a playhouse recently for the kids and it was C who was up there handing him nails and hammers and who stuck around while he was doing it, long after her brother had disappeared off to do something else. She's got stickability.
There is also the more scary stuff... the fact that women are more likely to be abused in relationships (another situation where the intrinsic worth of someone is not respected or even acknowledged). Women becomes the target of welfare change because they are often left holding the babies. Women take longer to pay off student loans and earn less than a man dollar for dollar. The glass ceiling is still there.
Hopefully we'll raise our children to value the worth of others regardless of gender, race, age or religion. Hopefully our children will be able to stand up for themselves. I have no doubt that C will be capable of making herself heard as she gets older ;) and I am glad. Seems like she's still going to need to be a voice for others.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Welcome back?
I am not sure if I can pinpoint the exact moment my life got too busy to blog. In a way its probably good, less time on the computer more time for... children... housework... reading... but what I have found is that I don't always have much of a chance to wax lyrical on a topic of interest. To have a discussion about it. Naturally Dion and I discuss things (you would hope seeing as we've been married for 10 years) but during the day my audience is less interested in Mummy's new ideas about the current educational standards or government or the environment and more focused on important things like whether the honey sandwich is sufficiently crustless or whose turn it is to choose what to watch on the television or where the red ball has gone from the ball popper. So maybe this will help. Even though I would like to know where the red ball is as well.
So where am I at now?
Well I have three children. Enough said. People tell me three is a lot of children. I am not convinced it is a lot of children really but it can get a little busy. Its a busy-ness that is always changing though. The children grow up so fast that once you've got a handle on one stage they've gone and moved onto another and then its all go again. At the moment its busy because the moment my back is turned A is getting into something and keeping tabs on all the 'stuff' that we've accumulated over 5 years of parenting seems to take up a lot of time.
So what about these little people?
D is 5 and is at school now. He is going to be a fire fighter when he grows up and he is going to live in the fire house. Apparently we are all going to be fire fighters when we grow up and live there together although C decided last week that she wasn't going to do that. D has blue eyes, brown hair and a big dimpled smile with a gap from when he ran headfirst into a door and lost his front tooth.. He's pretty small and skinny for his age. When he is not being a fire fighter he is playing Buzz Lightyear. When he is tired or sad he likes nothing better than to snuggle on the couch with Woof and suck his thumb and watch telly if Mummy is feeling nice. Daniel likes nothing more than to hang about and chat chat chat chat chat about his world. He loves lego as well, particularly his fire trucks and when Daddy makes up all of it so he can play.
C is 3. She DOES NOT WANT TO GO TO PRESCHOOL but she does go twice a week and has a lovely time. C has blue eyes, brown hair that falls across her face unless we can get her to wear a hair clip and a dimple in her left cheek. Caitlin is Daniel's sidekick most of the time, either "Penny" the fire fighter from Fireman Sam or "Woody" from Toy Story. When she is on her own she likes to play with little people type toys, help Mummy do the dishes and read stories. She gets a lot of joy out of helping. It seems to give her a sense of identity and belonging. When C is hungry or tired the world is a difficult and frustrating place. C prefers to do things she wants to do and it is a challenge to get her to do the things we want her to do but somehow we manage ;) She shows a lot of initiative which is great but means I have to keep a step or two ahead.
A is 1. For the first year she was a relaxed baby who just went with the flow. Since turning one she's discovered her inner personality and that with two older siblings, you've got to be heard somehow! She has (and spot the theme here) blue eyes, brown hair and the smallest dimple on her right cheek at the peak of her smile. She's just started to walk and is into everything. If it can be opened, examined or flung then it is! She loves phones and will put them to her ear and go "hi" or "bye". A is a snuggly wee thing and loves being in the centre of things. She gets very upset if she is left to 'fend for herself and particularly when Daddy leaves the house. A has been such a delight this past year and is adored by her siblings. Mostly ;)
So that's us. We muddle along with working in school and preschool and playgroup and church. I admit I don't "do" as much as I used to when Daniel was a baby, when every day had a particular activity. Somehow just keeping up with the washing and drying is mission enough (the folding pile speaks for itself haha) and trying to put tasty and nutritious meals on the table while stopping World War Three from breaking out and keeping tabs on our little Destructatot as she discovers another drawer to unpack keeps me entertained. Dion is busy with his work at church and so I am the sounding board, the sermon proofer and the person who can't help but wait up for him so we can talk about what's happening in our worlds. I am also the person who thanks God that Dion is happy(ish) to get up to the older kids overnight, feed porridge to them most mornings and do bath most nights. He's particularly selfless about weekends, always happy to have the little people tag along as he goes about his jobs and errands even thought they are, to quote "lots of help but not much of an asset".
But when I do have a moment I still love to read. And I spend time on the computer. And I am very deeply interested in matters of faith, theology, the environment, politics, education, justice and all those things that get me thinking outside the minutiae of daily life. I find I need that kind of stuff to think about. As much as it can consume my headspace, keeping all the things in my head around feeds, meals, pick up and drop offs, naps and potential illness doesn't feed the thirst of knowledge and reflection and understanding I seem to have. I like thinking about other stuff. I like to reflect on various states of the world. I like to see what my place is in it.
And maybe this is what this blog will be for.
So where am I at now?
Well I have three children. Enough said. People tell me three is a lot of children. I am not convinced it is a lot of children really but it can get a little busy. Its a busy-ness that is always changing though. The children grow up so fast that once you've got a handle on one stage they've gone and moved onto another and then its all go again. At the moment its busy because the moment my back is turned A is getting into something and keeping tabs on all the 'stuff' that we've accumulated over 5 years of parenting seems to take up a lot of time.
So what about these little people?
D is 5 and is at school now. He is going to be a fire fighter when he grows up and he is going to live in the fire house. Apparently we are all going to be fire fighters when we grow up and live there together although C decided last week that she wasn't going to do that. D has blue eyes, brown hair and a big dimpled smile with a gap from when he ran headfirst into a door and lost his front tooth.. He's pretty small and skinny for his age. When he is not being a fire fighter he is playing Buzz Lightyear. When he is tired or sad he likes nothing better than to snuggle on the couch with Woof and suck his thumb and watch telly if Mummy is feeling nice. Daniel likes nothing more than to hang about and chat chat chat chat chat about his world. He loves lego as well, particularly his fire trucks and when Daddy makes up all of it so he can play.
C is 3. She DOES NOT WANT TO GO TO PRESCHOOL but she does go twice a week and has a lovely time. C has blue eyes, brown hair that falls across her face unless we can get her to wear a hair clip and a dimple in her left cheek. Caitlin is Daniel's sidekick most of the time, either "Penny" the fire fighter from Fireman Sam or "Woody" from Toy Story. When she is on her own she likes to play with little people type toys, help Mummy do the dishes and read stories. She gets a lot of joy out of helping. It seems to give her a sense of identity and belonging. When C is hungry or tired the world is a difficult and frustrating place. C prefers to do things she wants to do and it is a challenge to get her to do the things we want her to do but somehow we manage ;) She shows a lot of initiative which is great but means I have to keep a step or two ahead.
A is 1. For the first year she was a relaxed baby who just went with the flow. Since turning one she's discovered her inner personality and that with two older siblings, you've got to be heard somehow! She has (and spot the theme here) blue eyes, brown hair and the smallest dimple on her right cheek at the peak of her smile. She's just started to walk and is into everything. If it can be opened, examined or flung then it is! She loves phones and will put them to her ear and go "hi" or "bye". A is a snuggly wee thing and loves being in the centre of things. She gets very upset if she is left to 'fend for herself and particularly when Daddy leaves the house. A has been such a delight this past year and is adored by her siblings. Mostly ;)
So that's us. We muddle along with working in school and preschool and playgroup and church. I admit I don't "do" as much as I used to when Daniel was a baby, when every day had a particular activity. Somehow just keeping up with the washing and drying is mission enough (the folding pile speaks for itself haha) and trying to put tasty and nutritious meals on the table while stopping World War Three from breaking out and keeping tabs on our little Destructatot as she discovers another drawer to unpack keeps me entertained. Dion is busy with his work at church and so I am the sounding board, the sermon proofer and the person who can't help but wait up for him so we can talk about what's happening in our worlds. I am also the person who thanks God that Dion is happy(ish) to get up to the older kids overnight, feed porridge to them most mornings and do bath most nights. He's particularly selfless about weekends, always happy to have the little people tag along as he goes about his jobs and errands even thought they are, to quote "lots of help but not much of an asset".
But when I do have a moment I still love to read. And I spend time on the computer. And I am very deeply interested in matters of faith, theology, the environment, politics, education, justice and all those things that get me thinking outside the minutiae of daily life. I find I need that kind of stuff to think about. As much as it can consume my headspace, keeping all the things in my head around feeds, meals, pick up and drop offs, naps and potential illness doesn't feed the thirst of knowledge and reflection and understanding I seem to have. I like thinking about other stuff. I like to reflect on various states of the world. I like to see what my place is in it.
And maybe this is what this blog will be for.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)