Today, I am going to share with you some more super strange insights about how we stay (mostly) happily married.

Last night, rather than conjugal visiting with Grumpy, I worked on newsletters and learning about kanban time management software.

As a result, I had naughty dreams. Was rather impressed by my subconscious as the dream time participants were single, so while my deep dark inner psyche will have a romp outside of the bonds of my marriage, it will NOT be a cheater-cheater pumpkin eater on any of my married friends. Golf clap for my subconscious for sure.  Am always impressed with myself for morality that super-cedes my conscious control.

So after these (rather pleasant, albeit confusing) REM interludes in my brain, I could NOT wait for my husband to wake up so I could tell him. As I waited for Grumpy to shake off the last few streams of his slumber, I thought to myself:

“Based on what just happened in my brain right there, I would make an AMAZING romance novelist!”

And guess what, that is the conclusion that Phteven came to on his own. “Well, you write really well, maybe you should start writing romance for real women!”

We have a friend who is a romance novelist, I will go out and buy her books for research purposes as I haven’t read a romance novel in years.

I used to really enjoy them, although I did often laugh and shoot whatever beverage I was sipping out of my nose at the ABSOLUTE absurdity of the swarthy, wealthy, muscle-bound, substantially hung hero and the sweet, naïve, milky-skinned-yet-feisty-and-independent heroine. What. Ever. My Romance novel would be about a real woman in her 40’s with wobbly bits and a sense of humour and real man who needs intellectual connection to be turned on.

ANYWAY. My point is this: Phteven and I have zero secrets. Like actually zero.

Occassionally we forget to tell each other something and there is a momentary and fleeting assumption that one of us is hiding something from the other. But, considering we work, play, travel and live together, there isn’t much time for sneaking around in general. We see each other most of the day every day.

I don’t think many relationships could stand this. I realize how important this honesty and open-ness is at least every single day, and often several times a day.

I was talking to a friend of mine about a guy I absolutely can’t stand but still find undeniably sexually attractive. She honestly rebutted that she had never felt anything for anyone outside of her relationship. And you know what, I believe her. That is not how we roll.

We’re pretty boring and traditional for the most part, but anyone who knows us will know that we are chronic flirts. While I am nothing more than an armchair psycologist, I would say that the fact we are needy and crave positive attention as much as we do stems in no small part from the fact we were both very lonely and unpopular children. That’s also the reason why we crave healthy, stable and totally plutonic relationships and connection. Our moderately miserable childhoods were actually a blessing as we’re generally two of the happiest (even with our down times and my frequent and painful depressive episodes) adults I can imagine.

The point I am trying to make is this: Grumpy and I started this relationship when we had been chewed up and spat out by Love. We had individually decided to take a break from dating and one night stands and maybe give up on romance for a good long stint.

What happened to us was a kind of coup de foudre. A metaphorical thunderbolt, and a force bigger than both of us. We have nearly broken up (for reals) half a dozen times, but we fight for our relationship as if it were a living, breathing entity of its own. We generally allow each other the absolute freedom to be the best and most authentic version of ourselves.

That means sometimes we are great, and sometimes we are wretched. Sometimes my husband makes me want to yell and scream and stomp and he does things that drive me around the bend and make my self esteem faulter. But then, for the most part, he is my biggest advocate and cheerleader, and I am his. So, as you read this, if you are happy or sad, single or coupled, self-confident or in a slump… keep going. Love is all around us, and the most important and powerful force on earth.

My children are generally monsters😈 in restaurants and cafés. Angels on airplanes😇  

   

Thought I’d share this as proof that they can be good… I’ll look back and remind myself as well. 

I have been extra miserable, spoiled, neurotic, tired, self-destructive and difficult lately.

Strangely, this foul mood kicked in while I was away with the children on a dream family vacation (we left Grumpy behind to work, and work he did!) to Hawaii.

I didn’t (and don’t) feel that I deserved such a lavish and amazing adventure. Also, there was the stress of having both my mother and mother-in-law and all four children along with a very busy sightseeing schedule.  It turned out that none of my planned opportunities get some work done eventuated.

Mum and Mom were extremely helpful and often took the three older children on adventures on the boat or on shore while I drove around with James and got lost on purpose high in the hills on Hawaiian islands.  Getting lost is something I have an undeniable knack for, and it is when I have no plans or preconceptions that the magic happens and the best adventures are had.

I guess the lack of control and being faced head on with the reality of my middle son’s temper sent me in a tail spin.

Bit of a champagne complain to have a breakdown on a cruise I realise.  But breakdown I did, and I am just now coming right again, thanks, nearly entirely, to my long suffering husband.

He welcomed a sobbing, sniffling wife and daughter at the arrivals hall after our ridiculous comedy of errors meant we were nearly the first people off the plane and the very last to leave the customs controlled area.  Things continued to deteriorate.  On Wednesday night I walked into the house, yelled a little (okay, maybe a lot), then I turned on my heel and left the house and drove to Matakana and sat in relative peace for five hours before turning around and coming home very late that night.

With all my crazy swirling around, and feeling like a complete failure at parenting, PR, scheduling, friendship, family, and probably life in general, Phteven remains patient and in good humour.

He takes many opportunities to mock my mental state this month and be properly politically incorrect.  Some people would consider this cruel, but we have a marriage where nothing is ever swept under the carpet or ignored.  Facts, even unpleasant ones, are faced head on and either laughed at till they are made more manageable and less scary (you can’t be overwhelmed by something you are laughing at), or faced head on and dealt with.

My state of mind took a real and positive turn a day or two ago when a simple phone conversation turned into a cathartic outpouring:

“You know what REALLY pisses me off right now!”  I screamed at my husband over the phone with our somewhat shell-shocked office manager watching my crazy unfold.  “I can’t EVEN HATE YOU because you’ve been an absolute $*&%#@! legend, and patient and kind through every single one of my crazy spells!  I WANT TO BE MAD AT YOU AND I CAN’T EVEN DO THAT! I can’t even blame you for the way I am feeling, cause you’re amazing.  Jerk.”

My candour was met with Grumpy’s trademark calm and laughter.

I’m letting go of a few things this week.  Priorities are my middle son, my marriage and attempting to keep a low enough profile that I don’t destroy too many of my personal or professional relationships through spitting impatient vitriol around at people for no good reason.

Not sure if I’m winning at this, you’d have to ask the unfortunate souls who have had to deal with me lately.

I do know one thing for certain, this black cloud will pass and I’ll be back to my painfully perky self soon enough.

Until then, thanks to everyone who has talked to/dealt with me and thought something is not quite right.

Have a great end of the week everyone.

And thank you Phteven for putting up with me.

This morning is one of the coldest on record here in Auckland New Zealand.

I bundled up my 8 year old daughter after calling my parents to check up and see if it was time to say goodbye to our family dog. She took a turn a couple of days ago and has given up.  I am reminded how glad I am that we are able to offer her respite from her pain and a peaceful and dignified death.  I’ll leave that train of thought there today, but there’s a lot more to say on the matter.

Everyone is dealing with this very differently.

Daniel knew that the end would be coming soon for his beloved childhood pet. He’s done his grieving over the past few months and had a good healthy cry session last night and is carrying on really well and looking out for the other kids.

Steph is beside herself. Her teachers and classmates rallied around her and offered comfort and cuddles and so many of them had stories about losing their beloved pets.

Adam is being looked out for by his siblings. As is often the case he’s feeling anger and frustration and it will come out as it always does. He’s got such a big heart.

Phteven. Well. Last night as we all snuggled into bed and sobbed a little and talked about grief and how letting go of people and pets we Love is one of the most natural and important things we can do, Grumpy piped in with a movie voice over echo impersonation: “Where is your GOD NOW! Mwhhahahahhahahaaa…” And the tension was broken and I couldn’t stifle a laugh despite my depressed state.

The talk about believing in God, or afterlife, or reincarnation was had with our three elder children. Only one of them identifies as a Christian despite our (well, probably my) efforts to encourage them to find their own spiritual path. Judge us if you want. Ethics, kindness, Love, honesty, generosity and resilience are the pillars of our family, and although we work to nurture a spiritual belief structure, we don’t tell them how or what to believe.  I married an atheist, so really I can’t complain about the lack of spirituality in our home more than a decade in I suppose.

Many tears, many cuddles and many words have been shared over losing our family pet. She was a gift to my husband before we were married. He loved her and took her to work at Serato where she sat on his lap or in a box on his desk until she grew too big and we knew we had to let her live with my parents in Dargaville. She’s almost always been my dad’s dog really. And despite his gruff, matter-of-fact approach to life and death and his farmer mentality on animals, he is going to miss his companion most of all.

My mother has been excellent. I complain about her so much, and we butte heads a lot, but she has a deep and beautiful soul and one of the purest hearts I have ever been let into.

The children have been asked by me, and now their teachers to write a story, poem, journal entry or to draw a picture about how they feel. When I suggested to Stephanie to write down how she is feeling as it is cathartic and will help her grieving, my suggestion was met with a flood of tears and the exclamation: “But I could never describe it! I Love her so much!”

Strangely, this has all served to help snap me out of a deep dark funk and sadness.  My trademark crazy has set in recently, and self doubt, deprecation and loathing has been given a reprieve and eclipsed by the grief being felt by me and the children as we let go of a loyal and steadfast family pet.

I am so proud of all my little people and the Love and the loss that they are embracing and how they are doing it.

Dogs Love us more than we deserve. So unconditionally and their needs are so simple.

My heart goes out to all of you who have been reminded of the hurt of losing a beloved family member as you read this. It is a pain that we are guaranteed from the moment we give our hearts to these creatures. And I am so thankful for the lessons that Puku has taught us all.

Take care of yourselves, and give the people and pets you Love an extra squeeze today if you get the chance.

Thanks for reading.

Dee

Thank You

I wanted to respond to each and every private message and FB thread reply after the amazing outpouring of kindness, understanding and empathy following my emotionally charged #TTWDee post.

I know amazing people and awe-inspiring parents. Some of you have dealt with situations I am not sure I would make it through without being forever changed or fading away from a broken heart. But you carry on. You fight through unimaginable pain and struggles, and you, and your children (and in some cases the memories of your children) change everyone who you meet or who you share your story with.

Despite feeling alone and beating ourselves up for our parenting choices and our children’s struggles, we are not alone in losing our cool from time to time. Some people yell more than others, some are a bit sweary (I am very sweary indeed!), but you know what, I believe that we’re all doing our best. And one of the strongest things any of us can do is admitting moments of weakness and asking for help or support when we feel like we are drowning.

I won’t go into where we are at right now.  It’s not great, but we are working on it and going to make some serious changes and provide more routine among the chaos that is Hobbit life.

Feel like I should share the fact that it has been a month of learning and epiphanies. Spending a week with my kids and mother and mother in law in Hawaii opened my eyes to how different and wonderful the people in my family are. And also, how completely infuriating and impossible I find them all sometimes.

Shepherding 7 Hobbits around 6 ports, 4 islands, 4 rental cars in 7 days was a dream realized for most of us. But it highlighted what a diverse and complicated group of individuals we are.

Adam loses his temper when things change too quickly for him to process, or nobody takes the time to explain what is happening, or if there is far too much stimulation. For the first time in his young life I fully comprehended this. He is not a monster, he is not a bad kid, he is struggling and I have let him down by not paying enough attention to his individual needs. He craves more structure, and that is something we will have to learn to provide.

After arriving home, being the last out of the airport after five full flights arrived and I tried to rush through, yet still attempted to be polite and accommodating to other passengers pushed me over the edge.  Watching people push in, change lines, and do nothing but stare disapprovingly at us as Adam had a meltdown and the baby cried because he had a full nappy and we were ALL quite clearly exhausted.

A comedy of errors after already feeling like a spoiled, loud and sweary laughing stock meant I broke down. Again.

I cried. I do that a lot lately. Too often.

So yes.  I bawled for the second time in as many weeks.

I am not ashamed of a single tear.

Not a single tear will be wasted.

I’m smart enough and strong enough to know when I am being ridiculous, and I am also smart enough and strong enough to stand up and keep trying to be a better parent and person every day I am alive.

And the biggest part of that right now is learning to take a deep breath and try and listen and make good decisions, just like I am trying to teach Adam to do.

Hope something in this meandering blog is helpful to someone, and I wish you all the strength and courage you need to keep pushing through the triumphs and challenges you are set today and every day.

Thanks for reading.

Dee

I’m not currently, nor have I ever been, in the running for the mother of the year award.

One of my biggest strengths, however, is that I have always been rather acutely aware of my failings. The person I am makes me a unique parent. Fun, engaging, stimulating, and excellent at a calling the kids out when they’re out of line. However, I am also inconsistent, moody, unconventional, loud, and selfish.

I’ve been smacked rather squarely in the face with my failings as a parent lately.

We are working 90 hour weeks, trying in our own ways to make a better future for our children and everybody else.

We don’t do it because we are noble or arrogant enough to think that it is our job to save the planet. We do it because we Love the work that we are doing and we Love the messages we are sharing and our work MAKES SENSE to us.  We want it to make sense to everyone else to clean up our transport and energy here in NZ and strengthen our independence and local economy.  Don’t get me started, I could go on and on!

So… Where was I?  Ah yes, parenting:

Four things happened in close succession this morning that broke my heart a wee bit.

• Adam, after crawling in with us as he often does around 4:00am, stirred a little. He opened his sleepy, nearly five year old eyes and said: “Oh man, I tell you what mom, I just really want to watch Kindergarten Cop right now.” He said it with such earnest I had a little laugh cry and gave him a huge hug. His needs are generally fairly simple. A bit of Love and encouragement keeps his tank pretty full most of the time.

• Steph was running around screaming at me to help her find her red shirt for cross country. I didn’t help. I generally don’t. I calmly look my darling in the eye and say: “You’ve got to look after your things.” And let her freak out until she finds whatever she is looking for. It is a combination of me being lazy, and genuinely wanting them to be independent.

• The shirt fiasco gave way to a conversation with Steph about NOT breaking her freaking ankle like she did at athletics. Which gave way to her reminding us that we are pretty slack at coming to watch things and weren’t there when she hurt herself last year. Which meant we were reminded about being “The busiest parents in the WHOLE world” And Adam chimed in to suggest that we stop buying electric cars.  He suggested that we can spend more time NOT driving everyone around and working all the time, and then Daddy could come on the birthday holiday and see volcanoes with us, instead of having to stay home and write code. (FYI, I Love that our children know that daddy writes code, budding geeks every one of them)

• The culmination of the aforementioned chain of events triggered a promise:

“I promise that we are going to start making songs, stories, and cuddles at bedtime an absolute priority guys.”

Steph is old enough to remember stories and songs every single night, while Adam has missed out a bit.

I am not going to start baking gluten free cupcakes for the kids’ entire class. I am not going to magic up the ability to be the kind of parent who does not embarrass my kids on the rare occasion that I make a public appearance. I am not going to get less sweary or sarcastic in my style of discipline or the way I speak to my children.

I am, however, going to make them an absolute priority, because they ARE an absolute priority. And they won’t be little forever, so it is time I mommed the eff up and made at least an hour a day to ensure them that they are the most important thing in the whole world to me and their father.

Kia Ora everyone.  Thank you for Reading and have a great rest of the week.

XXOO