Being the mom of a gorgeous teenage girl is quite challenging. I imagine being the daughter of a control freak mom must be quite challenging too. We have some very funny moments. Some very emotional moments. Some quite volatile moments. Those moments where I’m not sure who the adult is anymore. Which is why I am very grateful we talk and giggle and share. A near perfect moment today, the beach, a flat white from Hard Cafe and a girly chat with Kate.
I had a fun two days. And I know one of the main reasons was because I didn’t have to worry about Kate and Jem. I am grateful for wonderful families who embrace my children like they’re their own. And for wonderful friends, who 3 years ago, if life had been different, I would never have known.
I had such a fabulous day yesterday. Playing assistant to director B. If he had suggested that before, never mind how last minute, I would have snorted at the idea. Me. Do that. Are you fucking mad? As in, do you know who I am, how important I am. I don’t even attend my own shoots anymore. Now, you want me to carry the tripod, scout locations, drive you around, traipse into the strangest areas for the most fabulous of shots. You have got to be kidding. But I said yes. Not because I’m so noble but because B said we’d stay at Limes. And he’d pay me. The day started with a frission of excitement the minute I woke up. It clearly was not the prospect of what the day held. Nor the wonderful pay check. Said with a wry note of sarcasm. Not that I am not grateful of course. I think it was the promise of freedom. It was like I was given a free pass to have a day with no responsibility other than to do whatever B told me to. What a fabulous day. We laughed and stumbled, well I stumbled and we worked. Way into the night. I remember at one point under the Storey Bridge as I wrestled with the tripod for the umpteenth time as B changed his lens for the umpteenth time to do the perfect tracking shot for the umpteenth time, I mentioned how amazing it was. Not his shot. But being there. I didn’t have anywhere to go, anywhere to be, but there. Never ever, not one single, very well paid minute in my previous career or life, had I felt that before. There I always felt like I should be somewhere else, doing something more, hurrying up so I wouldn’t be late, for a meeting, for a deadline, for my kids. I was so important. Whatever it was, yesterday under the Storey Bridge I felt content. I didn’t need more. I was with B, my girls were being beautifully cared for by my fabulous friends. I was content. And that I had decided a while ago, is my definition of happiness. To be content. I am so grateful that I am finally realising it doesn’t take much. And that I already have all it takes. But apparently not what it takes to be a good film crew member. B just sent me this shot with this comment “So I’m loving the shot of the hotel until I wonder what that is in the centre of the shot……” In case you’re wondering, it’s my bag. Well, he didn’t pay me enough anyway.
I was B’s assistant today. His dorky fall over the tripod assistant. I worked harder than I ever have done before doing things I would never have done before. And had a fabulous time doing it. So today I am grateful for new experiences. And for not taking myself too seriously.
I do love peanut butter. I love butter even more. Melted butter and peanut butter on over toasted soy lin bread. There is nothing better. Today and right now. So, I am very very grateful for my lunch today.
I’m still doing it. I’m still trying to turn B into me. I fell in love with B for him. His quirks, his laid-backness, his dimpled smile, his forearms (not a fetish but they have always done it for me), his irreverence, his perverseness, his independence, his B’ness. His different to me ness. But I have spent the last seventeen years or so trying to turn him into me. Even though I know he will never behave the way I do, because he is not me. He will never respond the way I do, because he is not me. He will never phone home the way I do or when I want him too, because he is not me. He will never drive around the block ridiculously every time he has to be somewhere because he is always 5mins or more early the way I do, because he is not me. He will never do stuff when I want him too just because I want it done then, because he is not me. He will never be irrationally jealous the way I am, actually he will, and I do love that about him. So, I don’t know why I’m still doing it. I don’t even want B to be like me. I am starting to like me a little more, but fuck I’d hate to be married to me. So, I know he will never say sorry the way I do or think I do, because he is not me. I do know. But it still pisses me off. And I know that’s why he does it. And I love him all the more for it.
I forgot Kate today. For the first time ever. And in the worst thunderstorm I’ve ever experienced here. She had to text me. For some of you I’m sure it’s no big deal. For control freak, always 5mins early me, it was a huge deal. For the kid whose controlling mother was always there 5mins early it was a huge deal. The guilt. And not only at forgetting her, but at having spent the morning on the beach. And then forgetting her. The guilt at B’s raised eyebrow at my packed briefcase this morning. Aka, my beach bag. B’s word, not mine. But especially because I had felt slightly superior this morning when Jem told B mom always does things right. This was because she didn’t want B to drop them off at school. The last time he drove up the bus only lane. And stayed there and said leisurely goodbyes to the girls as they died a thousand deaths. I’m sure, knowing B, he might even have yelled I love you to them as they scuttled away. It didn’t help that one of the better looking boys in Kate’s grade was watching. And laughing. So, I was feeling understandably superior. Because I always do it right. Yeah right. Not only was Kate affronted when I finally turned up, she was also soaked. What a fabulous lesson for us both. She now knows I don’t always get it right. And I now know it doesn’t matter. If she knows that is.
I am grateful for the fact that today on a Tuesday morning, I got to walk the national park and bob around in the exquisite Laguna Bay. I am grateful to Ilona and Arienne for being as in awe as me. But I am especially grateful to B for deciding Noosa is where we would live, long before I even knew it existed.
I wear a little heart around my neck. It is a symbol of love and was given to me by my sister in law. I am grateful for my little heart, because whenever I touch it, it comforts me and I think of her. And when I think of her, I think of endless cups of coffee, endless glasses of red wine, endless laughs and home. It stills me. It helps me find my strength.
I feel a little sad today. And I know that’s okay. I also know why I’m sad. Because my friend is. And I don’t know how to help her. And because I know only she can help herself. And I feel a little guilty. Because the very thing thing I take the most for granted is the very thing my friend does not have. And so badly wants. I know this because she told me.The stability of us. Of B and I. It seems so cruel to give advice on how lucky she is to have what she has, and to be so grateful for what she has been blessed with, from the comfort of my solid unit of two. I am grateful to her for reminding me of the beauty of what we have. But I know, as I know she does, only too well, nothing lasts forever. So my promise to her, and to myself, is never ever to take us for granted again. To see the beauty we are. To see the beauty we have. But I only promise this, if she promises too. If she promises never ever again to give up on herself. To see the beauty she has. To see the beauty she is.
grace and dignity 