I am grateful today to have two daughters that just get on with their homework. No cajoling, no threatening, no fighting, no bribing, no cheek. I am grateful for my two self motivated daughters. So much so, that when I feel I should offer some homework input, I am often shunned. I am secretly grateful for that too.
This again. I had a chat this weekend about the one thing that keeps coming up since I started sharing some stuff. The notion of honesty. Well more of being honest. Of sharing truth, that isn’t always flattering. And how taken aback some people are by it. I think my thin blog made some people uncomfortable, cos it’s just not cool to admit to being that self absorbed when the issues the world face are so vast. I agree. But we are and we do. If only we had the courage to say so. It would make it so much easier to be ourselves, to be kind to ourselves, if we didn’t have to keep up with the often dishonest realities of our perfect friends. Those who seem to have the perfect lives, with the perfect relationships and the perfect attitudes to weight, religion, work, education, their children, discipline etc etc. According to what they share they never put a foot wrong. Bullshit. It would be so much kinder if we all shared, not only how we wished we were, but how we really are too. I really do love B and who we are and I wish we were always kind to each other but sometimes we just suck at this relationship stuff. We didn’t talk nicely to each other this whole weekend. I can’t really remember why, something about him not going to Dan Murphy’s when I wanted him too and me not taking my tablets for three days. And that was before he told me he was off to Adelaide for the week. I didn’t need to share that with you, and probably some of you wonder why I did. I’m not sure. Just because its the truth, and maybe someone will feel better about being a little off centre too. That’s just life. Let’s be kinder to each other by dropping the pretence. It’s such a waste of time.
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I am very very grateful for the relationship Kate and Courteney enjoy. It made me melt when I saw them interact today because I know that they will always have each other. There is something inexplicably special about their relationship. They are as close as siblings but are not, they get each other like friends do, but are family. I know they trust each other with everything. I am grateful my daughter and my sister’s daughter are best friends.
I am grateful for the perfect end to the perfect day. Beach for all, stand up paddling for some, surfing for others, naps for some, shopping on Hastings street for others, evening sundowners on the river for all. I am very grateful to be able to call this paradise home. For now. And especially grateful for being able to share it with my family.
I speak to my sister everyday. I am grateful she lives in Brisbane which is only an hour and a half away, so I know she is always close by. I am especially grateful today and right now, because our home is filled with the laughter and noise of family. Honest, true, free laughter. The laughter that always happens when Mel, Pat, Court and Georg come to visit.
Just when I’m sitting back smugly looking at how far I think I have come, and not only geographically, I come down to earth with a bump. What is it with the fact that no matter how much I feel I have achieved, how much wiser I am, it all goes out the window momentarily over something so trivial. This morning I fought with everyone. Jem because I felt she hadn’t told me everything about when some schoolwork was due, Kate because I had to tell her three times to clean her bathroom, and B, because I felt he undermined me while I was so justifiably going off at the girls for such unforgivable acts. The truth is it wasn’t about any of that at all, it was about the fact that I gained 1kg. To put it in context I am consistently 7kg heavier than I was comfortable being previously due to a cocktail of menopause, femara, zoladex and lexapro. And I have made peace with that. And with the fact that all the damn exercise in the world I do, just keeps the creep at bay. Or so I thought. What a brat I became today. Why does it matter so much. I used to say I was happiest when I was thin and hungry. And I was. And unhealthy. Then I grew up. Yeah. Now I’m neither. But I am happy. And healthy. So, how can 1kg matter so much? How can it derail me like that? And I know, as do we all, that how you feel inside is what matters, that I am healthy, that I am fit, that my current problems are golden, that it’s not about how you look but how you behave. I have so much to be grateful for. Am I really that shallow. Honestly, and I really shouldn’t admit this, given everything, if you want to make my day, tell me I look like I’ve lost weight, don’t tell me how fit or heathy or happy I am looking. But I have moved on a little, because even though I felt grumpy and frustrated this morning, I’m still having heaps of butter and peanut butter on my toast today. Because it makes me happy. And I know deep down, being happy matters more to me than being thin. Deep deep down.
I am grateful for Mimie today. Mimie is my french teacher. How she puts up with me is beyond me. I miss more lessons than I go to as life seems to always intervene. And when I do go it’s like I’ve never been before. I just can’t seem to retain anything. I blame my meds, I mean it couldn’t possibly be my age. The reason I am grateful for Mimie, is not that she is such a gracious teacher but because she is just the most wonderful person to spend an hour with. I am so grateful we met. Her view on life and the world is frank, refreshing and honest. And we laugh, boy do we laugh.
I love my dad. He is genuinely the world’s best dad. Growing up he guided us with so much love and tolerance, now that I have my own kids I am in awe of his patience. He was kind, he was firm and he was fair. He never shouted at us, but we knew when he was displeased. He treated us with utmost respect and care, so much so that we grew up in a solid, safe and kind world. He made us believe that we mattered. He always had time for us. No time, no matter how much pressure he was under, was a bad time.He loved and loves my mom, which is probably the best gift any father can give his kids. To love and respect their mother. And yes vice versa. He made us believe we were good enough to do anything we set our minds to. He never made me feel I had disappointed him. Ever. He always told me when things got too much, not to panic, because panic or not, the outcome will be the same. I was blessed to grow up in a world with my dad as my father. I still am. He’s still making me believe I can do anything. That my attitude, my will is everything. Well Dad, right back at you.
grace and dignity 