thirteen

I don't have to look hard to see the same baby face from all those years ago!

Our Harry is thirteen today. He is such a great kid and I am so unbelievably proud of him. Ben and I both are.  He never ceases to amaze us with his capabilities and creativeness. I can't wait to get started on these teenage years - something tells me the best is yet to come!

Happy 13th Birthday Harrison!

black and white bubbles

Black and white: not everyones cup of tea. I just thought it worked with these images.

My parents went snorkelling and it was kind of a big deal. My Mum had never snorkelled before and she donned flippers and a mask like a pro. I'm so thrilled Mum and Dad could see our magic underwater world (up close). I've been telling them for 5 years how special it is - now they have seen it for themselves!

a story of new life & letting go of guilt

Remember Guilt free in One Three...it's my mantra this year. I'm slowly working through a list of things I need to let go. But the biggest, most suffocating guilt I've carried for the last almost eleven years is that I failed to birth my babies naturally.

I'm four foot eleven and Ben is six foot one. Someone near and dear to us has always said (in good humour) that Nelwyns* shouldn't marry Daikini's*! But we can't help who we fall in love with, right!? I certainly wouldn't have it any other way. In any case, this was my chance to breed some height into our vertically challenged family.

You can't imagine how enormous I was in the later stages of pregnancy with my first born. I was so ridiculously massive that people winced when they saw me. Stepping into the supermarket I could clear the aisle in seconds....folks would see that tummy coming towards them and run! It was apparent to everyone (all except me and my doctor surprisingly) that the baby I was carrying was indeed BIG and most definitely a Daikini! To add insult to my pregnancy discomfort, baby decided to stay snug in his cocoon for ten days past the expected due date!

Like most first timers, I had high hopes for a tranquil natural labour. I was well informed, confident and determined. A good friend tried to prepare me for a scenario that ended with a C-section delivery, but as far as I was concerned, that was her experience and I was different and without a doubt far more tenacious. *Sigh*, hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Without giving you a minute by minute run down....the gist is....what began as a text book induction extended into 48 hours of labour, culminating with an extremely wrung-out mum-to-be, a baby suffering foetal distress, a severely potent (and miscalculated) epidural and an emergency caesarian delivery. I was exhausted, bruised and battered (literally), but thanks to the marvel of modern medicine, my darling boy Harry was brought safely into the world, weighing in at a whopping nine pound one and incredibly, fifty seven centimetres in length. He never entered the birth canal...and the midwives were, on reflection, relieved he hadn't. Although I'd dilated fully, I never experienced pushing sensations of any kind. 

I know a healthy mother and baby is all that matters - I know it could have been worse. But for me (and my shell-shocked husband) it was stressful and traumatic and not such a great start to parenthood. And it damaged my state of mind in more ways than you can imagine.

For a long time afterwards, well meaning people reminded me that it didn't matter how my baby arrived in the world - a healthy baby and mum is all that matters. The logical part of my brain knew what they said was true, but my heart didn't believe it for a second. My heart, in fact, has taunted me over this failure...for years. My heart it seems is really loud, in this case its' overpowering noise drowned out any logical thoughts that filtered through. Until now.

I still get teary thinking about Harry's birth. During the first 14 months of his life I was miserable - I loved and adored my little man of course, but many days were a struggle. I was plagued by weariness, anxiety, sadness, and while I didn't know at the time, was most definitely suffering post natal depression. It was hard to articulate how I felt and even those close to me had no clue of the extent of my suffering. The only way I could explain my feelings was to say I felt as though my body started something that it never got to finish. My body knew what to do in labour, but it didn't see it through. I carried an overwhelming and crushing sense of incompleteness.

Harry is a week away from turning eleven. He is a tall, strong, healthy and wonderfully intelligent boy. Whilst I'll always carry a sadness about childbirth, I'm no longer riddled with guilt. To be honest though, making a conscious decision to ditch the guilt has been harder than I ever anticipated - when you live with certain feelings for such a long time, you come to rely on them even if they are damaging. Writing about it has helped immensely, even though my emotions are once again raw and tears have been shed, even after all this time has passed. Words as therapy? I should have done this a long time ago, but I suppose I wasn't ready.

Harry is a gift, a part of me. I'm his mum no matter what and I doubt anyone will ever ask him how he came to arrive in this world!



* Remember the movie Willow?

Chapter books now

When did this happen? I'm sure she was in kindergarten just yesterday, sounding out three letter words and practicing sight words. All of a sudden this Year 2 girl can read, well...pretty much anything. There's no stopping Till now - she loves books just like her role-model and big brother (the incredible book-eating boy).

What a relief. The 'helping-your-kids-learn-to-read' caper can be a wee bit stressful, right? Lucky for me I don't have six kids!!!!!

Life's little lessons

This past weekend I learned an important life lesson: NEVER underestimate your kids. Never doubt their capabilities. I also learned it's best to train before signing up for a sporting event - but more about that later.

Harry signed up for this years 'Around the Island' relay - he and 5 "sporty" (capable running) mates.  I tried to talk him out of it! What kind of a parent does that? But honestly, he's never shown much interest in running and I really didn't think he could manage a 5km run that involved a very long steep hill climb, part of which was on a gravel road.

I was proved wrong - boy of boy, WRONG I tell you. This kid of mine ran his little heart out! Seriously, his legs didn't stop - even up that massive hill! Ben and I were knocked for six. Truly, to say we are shocked (and mighty proud) is understatement. And boy do I feel lousy for not believing he had it in him.

Ben's team 'The Oldies' came in third place. I'm proud of him too. Just look at him. Nawww, my heart goes a flutter (it's my blog so I can be gushy if I want). He makes running look so damn easy. You know, he was actually smiling - who smiles and runs at the same time?? Crazy people who like to run I guess.

Here's me. My team consisted of 5 ladies - between us we covered the 25km course. I walked my BUTT OFF!!!!! Today I'm paying the price. Today.....ouch....grimace....I'm walking around gingerly like a hundred year old woman - my legs are SO sore. Yes...next year I'm going to make time for training (which is what I did for the 2011 relay...and I was nowhere near this debilitated).

Lesson(s) learned!

Don't get in my way people! I have 'Bust a Move' blaring from my iPod.

PS For those who have visited Norfolk...Harry started outside the school, running along Cascade Road, past Cockpit Reserve, up the killer-steep-gravely Prince Phillip Drive, past the Montessori preschool.....finishing almost at the start of Red Road. Unbelievable.

He goes UP

Once upon a time, there was a boy who didn't like heights. His name was Harry. Yes, this poor little fellow suffered a condition commonly known as... 'A fear of Heights'!!! When Harry was a toddler and his friends came to play they always climbed on top of his toy box, but not Harry, no no, he had his feet planted firmly on the ground.  As a pre-schooler, if Harry visited a double storey building he had to be carried up the stairs, sometimes crying (oh dear) and often protesting loudly. When it came to descending a long staircase, Harry would plonk down, frozen to the spot, refusing to move an inch. But then a remarkable thing happened. Harry grew older (and wiser) and taller and taller and taller still and with all this extraordinary growing his fear of high places lessened. His condition really improved when he moved to a magical place called Norfolk Island. For here on this special island, Harry had to become comfortable with big cliffs and stairs. Particularly stairs as his family moved into a double storey house. After a time Harry took up horse riding and he gradually started to feel secure perched high upon a horse. And well, you should this see Harry now...for these days (so the story goes), he's a boy who willingly climbs trees!!!!!!!!!!!! True. Here's proof...

A Trophy Winner

Look at that face! Could he be any prouder? 

And deservedly so, for this is the photograph of an archery champ -
2ND PLACE in the 'Cub Bare Bow' category!!!
Over one hundred archers from near and far participated in this tournament -
Our Harry was the youngest!

Well done Harry - you are a legend!

It started with a musical

"What's the story morning glory? What's the word hummingbird?"

Ben and I met on this day exactly 17 years ago - we were just eighteen years old. But what does this have to do with the musical Bye Bye Birdie....well let me explain.

My sister had a smallish chorus part in our local amateur theatrical society's production Bye Bye Birdie.  Ben's cousins, who happened to live across the paddock from my family (and whom I attended the same school with) were also participants in the a fore mentioned show. On the night of the final performance, I went along to watch my sister in her big starring moment, as any lovely older supportive sister would.   Ben had travelled 3 and a half hours from his home town to see his cousins perform also.  After the performance there was a cast party, for which my sister insisted I attend.  Ben's cousins also insisted he join them for the revelries. Was there match-making afoot - you better believe it.  My sister takes full credit for the introductions which went something like this..."Michelle, meet Ben" swiftly followed by "Ben, meet Michelle". Hmm, powerful words, what a natural born cupid you are Lou! From that moment on I can tell you nothing of the events at the party, who was there or what went on. I had eyes for only one person and obviously the feeling was mutual.  At the end of the night when Ben took me by the hand I knew in that moment we'd be seeing each other again! Was the fact that we lived almost 300 kilometres apart a consideration? Certainly not. No, it wasn't a deterrent in the least.

You don't really need someone to complete you...

you only need someone to accept you completely! - source unknown

And here Ben and I are now, 17 years later, a lot older and certainly wiser. We've achieved so much together; thirteen years of marriage so far, two great kids and adventures too numerous to mention. Not a day goes by where I don't think how lucky we are. To find someone on your wave-length is precious. I'm thankful Ben and I agree on many things, most of the time! As a couple, our ideals and decisions haven't always suited or been easily understood by those connected to us.  Life isn't perfect, it's messy, unpredictable and complicated. What gets us though is the comfort we share in our mutual convictions, always knowing we have each others full support and understanding. At the end of the day when my head hits the pillow, I sleep soundly, secure in the knowledge that the man beside will always back me to the hilt.

The memory of our first meeting is etched on my heart forever (always with the soundtrack of Conrad Birdie singing One Last Kiss...). Those first impressions are as clear to me now, as though we met just yesterday.

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What a fabulous 17 year journey! Goodness we have a long way to go yet, but it's going to be great. I can't say I'm looking forward to growing old, but knowing Ben and I are moving in the same direction together makes it seem all the more bearable!

Harry leaps

Oh gosh. I know those fences aren't that high, but still.....I always worry! 

This boy just keeps going ahead in leaps and bounds. Meanwhile, my heart skips a beat, afflicted with an amalgam of fear and pride. Watching him grow and develop is such a privilege.

But why does he have grow up so fast?

Finally...the anticipation is over!

Matilda has been obsessed with the idea of loosing a tooth since she was about three - which must have been around the time her big brother lost his first! She would ask almost weekly, "When will I get a loose tooth Mum?" Well last Sunday night she woke us in the middle of the night to announce she'd just discovered her top front tooth was wobbly!!!! The next morning there was an urgent request for a tooth fairy pillow to be sewn; it had to have a pink pocket with a white tooth embroidered on the front, the material had to be pink and pretty, and please OH PLEEEASE, ribbons on the top.  Yep, she's quite specific this girl of ours - she knows her mind! I didn't actually get around to making the aforementioned design until last night and phew, just in time. I can't believe that just this afternoon, only five days after discovering it's wobbliness, Matilda pulled it out herself. To say she's excited is an understatement.  And guess what...we've just tested the tooth next to the hole and it's wobbly too!!!

NB. There's nothing so cute as a toothless grin!