Children – Page 3 – St GEORGIA & Boo

again, its been some time since i have been able to really Be here. Life, seems to be keeping me from myself. To have a moment now is rare, so rare that I become bewildered in the space and often lose the moment altogether. It’s not really how i want to be living. It’s not how i saw my life playing out. I’ve done a lot of starting over in my young life, and it seems i am here now starting over again, having to in vision new dreams, new hopes for us. I’m wanting this part to be over, the part where you move from one life to the other. The part where things fall apart, children lose their grounding, teenagers lose themselves even more so in the things that don’t matter, nevertheless matter the world to them. I am wanting the deep-seated sadness to finish now, to finally leave me free from the thoughts of what my life should have looked like. I am wanting to see what it looks like from here, i am wanting new spaces and to see myself healed and well and most of all happy. I’m tired about talking about how tired i am, and become afraid about how long i can keep moving at this pace, taking care of others, too tired at the end of the day to take care of myself. I know change is emanate, i know something is going to have to give. I know the time is near where i am going to have to scoop up my super heroes into my arms and begin to fly again.

the mother, 1949

“there has been an enormous amount of talk about the sacred rights of women, but being a mother is not how women gained the right to vote; the unwed mother is still scorned; it is only in marriage that the mother is glorified- in other words, as long as she is subordinate to the husband. As long as he is the economic head of the family, even though it is she who cares for the children, they depend far more on him than on her. This is why, as has been seen, the mother’s relationship with her children is deeply influenced by the one she maintains with her husband. So conjugal relations, homemaking and motherhood form a whole in which all the parts are determinant; tenderly united to her husband, the wife (mother) can cheerfully carry out the duties of the home; happy with her children, she will be understanding of her husband. But this harmony is not easy to attain, for the different functions assigned to the wife(mother) conflict with each other. Women magazines amply advise the housewife on the art of maintaining her sexual attraction while doing the dishes, of remaining elegant throughout pregnancy, of reconciling flirtation, motherhood and economy; but if she conscientiously follows their advice, she will soon be overwhelmed and disfigured by care; it is very difficult to remain desirable with chapped hands and a body deformed by pregnancies; this is why women in love often feel resentment of the children who ruin her seduction and deprive her of her husbands caresses; if she is, by contrast, deeply maternal, she is jealous of the man who also claims the children as his. But then, the perfect homemaker, as has been seen, contradicts the movement of life: The child is the enemy of waxed floors. Maternal love is often lost in the reprimands and outbursts that underlie the concern for a well-kept home. It is not surprising that the woman torn between these contradictions often spends her day in a state of nervousness and bitterness; she always loses on some level, and her gains are precarious, they do not count as any sure success. She can never save herself by her work alone; it keeps her occupied, but does not constitute her justification: her justification rests on outside freedoms. The wife (mother) shut up in her home cannot establish her existence on her own; she does not have the means to affirm herself in her singularity: and this singularity is consequently not acknowledged.”

Simone de Beauvoir, the Second Sex 1949

Today, I am learning to graciously open my hands and accept what falls before me. I am trying on receiving for a while. this is a new place, a foreign way of being for me. i am having to draw on great courage and humble myself in what is required in order to keep moving forward. it has compelled me to look more closely, at underlying truths i have held for myself and my very worth. Why the very task of an offering is so tremendously difficult for me to embrace i am yet to really understand. Why i have put others, known and unknown above and before my own needs for my entire life also is yet to be clear,but now; now life has deemed it is necessary to be on the receiving end for a while. I graciously will allow others to embrace the act of giving, for i understand without one there simply is no other. If I’m not able to receive well when i most need it, then i am denying someone else the opportunity to give and if i was to be denied every time i felt compelled to give in some way of myself to someone who needed something, i would most definitely be devastated by the declination. I have no doubt that as life keeps circling, the time will come once again when i will be able to give back what has come forth for me. For now though, from the depths of my heart i say thank you world, from myself and my children.

April

April.

April

April has been, trying ever so hard to purposely slow down, about creating new humble spaces for babies and chickens, challenging teenagers on their ideas about doing when all I am wanting is in the not doing. it has been about getting clear and being still, still enough to hear my own inner voice. It’s been about watching the worry, leaning away instead of falling into it. It’s been about knowing that whatever is playing out in this moment will eventually move on if i allow myself to let it go. Im letting go of a lot lately. We have created great spaces for celebrating birthdays and explored new places, we spent more time in the garden, more time just being with life. April has been a time for new growth. I am grounded and for now i’m comfortable in the not knowing of what lies ahead. I understand now, that everything is as it should be, that life is merely unfolding..

the literature of women’s lives is a tradition of escapees, women who have lived to tell the tale.. They resist captivity. They get up and go. They seek better worlds.

-Phyllis Rose

I have been quiet here lately, away, for quite sometime now, I know. There has really been nothing that has been ready to say. No truth that needed to be revealed, not until now, anyway. I’m in the in-between. Moving slowly and allowing myself to build in strength. I have let go of all that my story entailed and will leave the pages blank for a while. There are deep hard questions that I need to ask myself now. Ponderings that only arise when all the children are asleep, when the house is still and there’s nowhere to hide, from myself. What was it I believed about myself that would allow another to come in and ever so slowly and carefully dismantle me, my worth? What belief is it I must hold that would say, you are undeserving beside the ones you love, the ones you care for and give your life to? Where did the deep value and love for myself go? I didn’t notice it leave. For so long I didn’t fight for myself. I allowed whatever expectations I had about what I deserved, to slowly fall to such a place that I began to believe and hold on to what was happening as if it was my truth, a devastating portrayal of myself. I would catch myself sending silent whispers off into the world, wondering if this was to continue to be my story. While travelling in the car with my children and my husband, my own reflection caught me in the car window and in that very inconvenient moment I was hit hard with a deafening sadness, where I had to fight with great strength to hold back the tears that were begging to fall but in such way that I knew if I am to begin now I may never stop crying. I may never be able to escape the depths of this grief, grief for the loss of myself. This is the moment it became so very clear to me, if I stay in this, I simply would not survive.

a moment of grace

a moment of grace.

a moment of grace

We gathered again on Christmas Eve as we always do with other families at my mums oldest, dearest, friends house. This year was different. This year, we were all here, with the children a year older and happy to reintroduce themselves to each other and the same faces we see only once a year and yet have become so familiar with. We were all here, in the absence of her. It has been less than a year, since she left us, we weren’t really certain if this wonderful tradition would continue, it has been going on for over thirty years. This celebration has always been about the children, the generations that it began with, now belongs to their children. It has been a sad year for this family, sad for my mum. On this night, we all paused, we took a breath from our own lives and it was there that the magic happened, there was a moment of grace for us all. We played, we laughed, we talked, we let go and smiled. There was a new baby to add to the generation, and the babies of last year were all toddlers now, and instant friends. Georgia, our littlest had a special attentiveness towards my mums friends husband. This was a recognisable hard moment for him, this had been his wife’s celebration, this was now, his gift to her. Georgia, in all of her young wise years, I’m certain knew this to be true. Her focus was on him. We watched in wonderment as she assertively bossed him around, ordering and leading him here and there, keeping him present, keeping him from falling down in his grief, that on a night like this would have been all too easy to do. With bubbles, and smiles and angel wings on her tiny shoulders, we all remembered and vowed to come again next year.

honouring a year past..

This year has been a hard one for our family, big changes came with big challenges, much of which we are still unfolding. My girls sometimes worry that we are unique in the current unrest of our home, that the waves of emotions and truthful uncertainties are not something that is felt within the homes of their friends families. The truth is, it is more likely closer to what is real than the idea of ‘happily ever after’ is in many ways. We are forever unfolding and growing into ourselves and if we get too caught up in things that don’t matter for long enough, we can lose sight of what truly does, even with the ones we love the most. It is important for them not to be too sheltered from life’s pains. If we protect and hide what is real, what is raw and true, we teach them to only know life as an all encompassing wonderful. And life is wonderful but it can also be equally devastating and no one is immune to feeling some sort of devastation at some time in their lives. We need our children to be aware of this, we need to them to grow with resilience, so when life imposes hard challenges upon them, they will know that it is alright to hit the ground. It is alright to feel hard pain. It isn’t a sign of a weakness or a betrayal of a story that they have been living, there is no shame, no need to hide or mask what is real for them in that moment. They need to understand that life moves around and around, and the hardest of moments will pass, we will circle up again. Staying true takes bravery. Staying true, doesn’t always mean that there is an absence of love. Love can be very present and it’s a difficult challenge to go on loving another without an idea of what the story is really meant to look like. Life and love are messy, children do complicate relationships, it takes a deep kind of honesty to be able to understand and often admit such inclinations. I would rather my children know that they wont be saved from never feeling pain in their relationships, that having children will challenge them in ways that they could never imagine. Parenting, is tricky. Autism is a blessing and a heartache. There is subtleties, that only you as a parent can recognise, the struggles and misunderstandings, confusions and frustrations. It’s almost impossible to completely understand, and as a parent you carry a certain kind of worry that is unique only to them. These honest challenges have put a strain on our family, and we are all still trying to find our grounding. I am hopeful that we are on our way up again. I have let go of any ideas of what I thought we were meant to be and are allowing life to honour us with what we are instead. I have surrendered, and relaxed into the truth and I know happiness will flow through our doors once again, sometime soon. This past year we have shared many, many tears and have experienced more than our fair share of temper tantrums from toddlers, teenagers and an overloaded mother. But as a family we have triumphed life with our spirits, love and acceptance of what is. In all our uncertainties that we have been presented with, we are settled in the knowing that we are a strong tribe and we will be alright, no matter what life bestows upon us next.

creative endeavours and healing

I have been slowing down, sifting through, and clearing out on purpose. Life has presented me with an abundance of challenges over the past few months, with children, family, finances and grand life decisions. I keep reassuring myself there is no wrong here, just different paths to take, i keep reminding myself that i am only one person, and all will be well. Friends are important right now, at least one in particular. I think without this friend, my challenges would have been inevitably harder. She has been my breath when i have found it impossible to breathe, she is the one who listens as worlds fall apart, makes the tea and wipes away the endless tears without trying to change or move me into feeling better. She is alright sitting beside the hurts knowing only too well that they must be felt and really is powerless to change them anyway. It is with this hand, of this friend, that things are able to rise to the surface and be felt at the very depths that they require, without holding them in judgment or with regret. It is with this, that things are ever so slowing changing form, making room for new ideas, new beginnings, creating space, honouring growth. She is the one who reminds me to be more gentle with myself, to nurture my soul and more importantly forgiving myself for the minor infractions I so harshly hold myself accountable for. She reminds me that All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well.

raspberry and vanilla pod jam

It’s important that my children know where the food they eat begins. That not everything must be bought from the supermarket and most of the time what we can create in the kitchen with our own hands and hearts has a far greater effect on their well-being than anything that can be bought off a shelf, even jam.

Raspberry and Vanilla Pod Jam

ingredients: 700g fresh or frozen raspberries, 700g caster sugar, 3 teaspoons of vanilla pod paste, juice of 2 lemons, 1 tablespoon of pectin powder(optional)

method: Before beginning place a saucer in the freezer to chill and wash and sterilise your jars by boiling in a pot of water for 10 minutes. To make the jam, combine raspberries and sugar in a heavy base pot on a low heat and gently heat until all the sugar is dissolved. Add the vanilla paste and juice of the lemons and the pectin powder to the mix. Adjust the heat to a low boil, creating good movement within the mix. Stir regularly to avoid sticking and burning for 20 to 25 minutes. When the jam starts to reduce and thicken lower the heat and test by dropping a teaspoon of the jam onto the chilled plate from the freezer. If the jam develops a skin once on the plate and wrinkles when pushed with your finger, it’s ready. Turn off the heat and allow to stand for a few minutes before funneling into hot pre sterilized jars. Seal with the lids while still hot.

carrot cake with dark agave nectar

Carrot Cake

ingredients: 2cups SR flour, 1/2cup brown sugar, 1/4cup dark agave nectar, 3 freerange eggs, 1/4cup vegetable oil, 2 carrots grated, 1cup soy milk

method: combine all the ingredients in a large mixing bowl and mix well until all combined. Pour mixture into a lined and greased cake tin. Bake in preheated oven at 180°C for 45 minutes or until cooked through. Serve while still warm with a little butter and a drizzle of agave nectar.

It is hard to explain and accept that you can’t just assume that he will always embrace your affections. That after hours or days or even weeks of not seeing his delightful smile, that he would openly allow you to take him into your arms. So that you may show him how much you love him, how much he means to you. This is not how it works for him. He must decided when. He must decide how it will play out. This is alright if you have no needs to fill, if you are perfectly happy within the space he creates for a while. It is hard to explain that this is not personal. That even a mother, a father, a grandparent or sibling can be denied at anytime. It is easy to assume that just because he wont allow you to take him in your arms, that he is not happy to see you. It is easy to mistake this for not caring. It is easy to feel hurt, even betrayed by his rejections. He is only three, and unaware of it all. I see, when people come to visit, how excited he is, how he hides this behind peculiar noises and animal masks. I see, that he is wanting to engage you, how happy he is that you are here, that you have come to see him. He may not show you this in the way you are expecting. He may show you this by watching you for a while from a distance, he may talk to you from behind his hands or he’ll find something for you to play with beside him. When he’s ready, when he feels that there is no longer any pressure, he will show you love. The love that you were seeking from the very beginning. I have found that it is always better to ask first. This is an unusual mannerism to try to adopt, to try to get others to follow suit too, that we should ask the other if a cuddle is alright or a kiss to say I love you, especially if that other is only a child. We are so accustomed to greeting each other this way, it comes naturally for most, and usually expected. It’s a pattern we have had to relearn for this little one. In the process it is teaching us about boundaries and personal space even with the ones we love. We are having to teach him about feelings and empathy and faces and body language. Why we sometimes cry and that laughing means you are happy. We are learning too, every step of the way, to take more notice of each other, to read the signs, to assume nothing and most of all to be patient. I don’t know if this will ever come naturally to him, if he will always find it at times uncomfortable and unnecessary. I’m not sure if we can change this or if we even should be trying. He is who he is, it won’t always fit with the world, it won’t always be what we want it to be, but if we can teach him to love and embrace himself in all his uniqueness and not be bothered so much about the things that really don’t matter, then I believe, that will be more than enough.

making the bread

Tranquility. Awareness. Jewish identity. Family. Truly restful sleep and the best food on earth . . .

We’re told that no such thing exists, but Shabbat may well be the panacea to modern life. Imagine: a day on which the world stands still. Imagine: a time when the search for your spiritual center ceases—because you now are at your spiritual center. Imagine: Shabbat

–chabad.org

This is a beautiful Jewish bread, a custom we have borrowed and adopted as our own. We make the bread with many hands, through which my children learn about life. Everything is a process, finding the right ingredients, seeing if they fit, moving with them for a while, then rest and contemplate before you rise. Begin moving again into your desired shape, there are no rules here, if you don’t wish there to be.. Rest some more, and when you are ready rise again to your full potential. The final moment is deliciously sweet, full of love, baked to perfection and offers the world a wonderful slice of truth.

challah bread

ingredients: 1 cups lukewarm water,1packet active dry yeast,1 teaspoon sugar,3 free range eggs,1 free range for wash,1/4 cup honey,2 tbsp canola oil,2 tsp salt,4 cups plain 000 flour

method: Combine the lukewarm water and the yeast with the sugar into a small bowl, stir to dissolve. Wait for 10 minutes. The yeast should activate by beginning to foam. If it doesn’t, your yeast may have expired. pour the flour into a large mixing bowl. Lightly beat the eggs then add them with yeast mixture, honey,oil and salt to the flour mixture. stir to combine then turn out and knead for 10 minutes. Lightly grease the bowl with canola oil and return the dough to the bowl, cover with film and a tea towel and rest in a warm place for an hour. when the dough has double in size punch down to remove the air pockets, then recover and allow to rise agin. When the dough has doubled for the second time, it is time for the braiding. This is when the bread is blessed before it is separated and braided. Divide the mixture into two or three equal portions. On a large lined baking tray begin to plat the dough, tuck the ends under at each end. With the remaining egg make a wash by combing 1 egg with 1 tablespoon cold water. brush over the entire loaf and allow to rest for a further 45 minutes. Then bake in the oven at 190°C for 20 minutes, then remove and brush again with the egg wash. Return to the oven for a further 20 minutes. Once cooked, remove from the oven and place on a rack to allow to cool slightly before serving.. If it lasts that is. Ours never does.

a letter to a teacher

Dear…

I am sending you this in response to a conversation you had with a student, my daughter, a few weeks ago prior to the end of term.Firstly I wish to express that by writing this letter, by no means am I wanting this to cause any disturbance or ill feelings with in the teaching and school environment, my intention here is simply to inform you of a different perspective on a simple conversation for your further consideration.

The conversation in question proceeded with you asking my daughter if she knew what it was she wanted to do with her life after secondary school, or if she had an idea of what it is she could see herself doing with her future.

Undoubtedly, this is a relevant and important question that these young adults need to begin thinking about. It is a question of such significance that often it is asked over and over again many times though out a single life time.

My daughter, has indeed considered this question in great depths over the past few years, it is a conversation that naturally occurs quite regularly in our family around the dinner table. My daughter is insightful and clear about what it is that simply makes her happy and what it is that does not. She has an understanding about the things in life that drive her to want to know more, learn more about, take action on, become a voice for. She is passionate in life and understandings about the things that Really matter. Her strongest and most obvious caliber is her ability to create; her visual mind is of extraordinary magnitude.

When she answered this question for you, she gave you her absolute truth.She gave you a lovely list of things she ‘could see’, and I emphasize here, ‘see’ herself doing with her future. Her list I imagine would have consisted of many creative ideas and inventiveness. I understand that from an academic point of view this may not seem like a viable way to pave for ones future, that these choices that are being considered may or may not lead to what society deems a suitable or economically sustainable way of living. Your responses however, whether it be what you actually believe, or a moment of unconscious thought, to my daughter’s ideas about her life’s future were quite disheartening and surprising to say the least. You proceed to inform her that her ideas she was considering were merely just that of ‘hobbies’ and that they were not a means for ‘making a living’. I don’t wish to quote here on the exact way in which the conversation took place, however what does matter is the understanding of which my daughter walked away with from the experience.

You have in your judgments of what is considered to be a viable future and what is not, bought her to a place at a vital young age to question herself about her abilities to offer something of value and insight to the world in which we live.

Now, my question to you is this, if we are not to guide these young minds to follow their dreams, to pursue their passions and the very things that are the driving force behind what makes them who they are as individuals, and instead lead them to follow the ideas and beliefs of another on the advice that it is a better way, or the only sustainable way; are we not creating a society of individuals who need to perform rather than live and rather than acceptance of who they are, conditioning them into an idea of what they should be?

I beg you to consider this, if we are to follow the essence of who we are, and are fortunate enough to be able to offer a valuable truth of ourselves to the world and the people in which inhibit this world, are we not in essence creating a better place for ourselves and those around us to live. Where would we be with out the creative writers who offer their poetry for you to teach, where would we be without the painters who have embellished this planet with extraordinary pieces that are admired and past down through the tests of time, and the person who sat with pencil in hand and drew the outline of the satchel you carry your important papers in, and the books that are written, the gardens you stroll through, the glorious meals created from ingredients before they find themselves into the recipe books you cook from.

There are millions of ways to walk this life, my daughter is blessed enough that she falls into many, many ideas in which she will pave her way, all of which I’m certain will have a creative flare. And when I think of that prospect for her, I am unconcerned with the amount of money she will make, or even the details in how it will happen. For now, all that is important is that she believes in herself.

You hold an important and highly valued role within the school community, and have always been highly regarded in your opinion towards particular subjects with my children. It must be recognized that your view does impact the ways in which we move these young minds towards their futures. That you are in fact, in a position of great significance by educating and shaping these minds with ideas about themselves and the choices they will need to make.

Another student at the school, recently showed me a thought provoking piece by Alan Watts, titled ‘What if money was no object’ that is quite similar to that of which I have expressed here, if you are yet to see this piece, you may find it of interesting listening.

Kind Regards,

Carly Macaulay