At the bottom of the Garden

10 Things Tuesday: 10 Signs I'm Truly Getting Old and Grumpy...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Tue, 28 Feb 2012 09:27:00 +0000

I call my husband the Grumpy Old Man - don't worry, I'm not having a go at him. He is quite proud of his Grumpy Old Man status, he even has a tee shirt with Grumpy Old Man emblazoned across it (not that he ever wears it out of the house; t-shirts with slogans go against the Grumpy Old Man code, don't you know)...

I'm many, many years younger than the Grumpy Old Man. In fact, there is an entire decade (the sixties, in case you were wondering) between our birthdays! Until my last birthday, he was a man well and truly into his fifties with a wife in her thirties...

Until my last birthday, that is, when I turned 40. The big four ohhhhhh!

I have to admit I've been feeling my age recently. It's true what they say, you trundle along feeling 23 for years and years and then all of a sudden your age catches up with you. Oh my, but it does.

I know there is a lot I can do to counteract this, and I plan too, just as soon as I have more energy...

But actually, this post isn't about the physical signs of ageing. I'm not going to spend 10 points counting my crows feeds (10 points wouldn't be nearly enough anyway). No, this post is about how I've noticed that my mindset, which use to be young and hip and with it, is kind of all old and fuddy-duddy and, oh my goodness, awfully inflexible (kind of like my hips, actually)...

So, here we go, the top 10 signs that I'm truly beginning to show my age...

1. There is a classics radio station which plays all my favourite music all the time and that means no music that came out past about 1999...

2. It's taken me about 10 years to finally get up enough courage to figure out this torrent palaver... All my friends have been downloading full seasons of their favourite shows from overseas for years, but I've always found it all a bit to 'new tech' and difficult to understand and quite frankly I was completely intimidated! But I have finally figured it out, just this week, woot!

3. I think all the new fashions are tacky; leggings as pants, mullet skirts, those sandals with cuffs, ugh, what are young people thinking???

4. I still use CDs... Even my similar aged friends left tangible music behind in favour of mp3 and 4 music five years ago!

5. I get very annoyed when young people on the bus don't give up their seat for me... Just saying...

6. Changes of Twitter, Blogger and Facebook interfaces confuse and irritate me - newer isn't always better! If it has to change it should have a point other than just looking better (and looking better really is in the eye of the beholder)...

7. Almost everything my parents told me that I used to laugh at is starting to sound like common sense these days...

8. A night at home crocheting while watching a good movies and sipping moscato and eating chocolate is always preferable to going to see a band or going dancing.

9. Catching up with friends at a restaurant is all but pointless because I can't hear people across even a small table these days thanks to the interference of so-called white noise!

10. [Drum Roll] I desperately want my own home where I can live out the rest of my days in the decor of my choice (i.e. filled with lots and lots of old family heirlooms that young people today would probably think look old-fashioned and sad)...

Oh, and a bonus one...

11. Before I could write this list today, I had to take a nanna nap (and I'm not pregnant and I don't have a baby waking me through the night...)

Do you feel your age?

Let's talk communicating...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 06:06:00 +0000

Way, way back in the early 90s, I did a Bachelor of Arts in Communications at the University of Canberra and while I never went on to have a career in communications, I have found a lot of what I learned during those years very helpful.

Over the years I've observed how people communicate with one another and one thing I've noticed is that communication despite - or perhaps because of the deep penetration of technology - has become more garbled.

Many humans on the planet have had to learn to communicate via text. This is not a new phenomenon, but the speed at which we communicate with one another via text certainly is new. Text communications in this day and age are almost instantaneous.

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I know how easy it is to become swept up in an emotional tsunami while operating technology - before I have a chance to reconsider my response, I've typed (and I touch-type at 90 words per minute) and sent my raw emotions to another person - often to many other people and with no real control over how quickly my communications are further disseminated to others.

That is a lot of responsibility.

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However, it gets worse because text lacks a form of communication which is essential to humans as it is with all social creatures. Text communications lack non-verbal cues. They lack tone of voice, they lack those teensy tiny muscle movements which differentiate a smile from a smirk, or a frown from confusion.

We try to compensate by using smilies, but smilies fall far too short of the mark most of the time and leave a gap for interpretation as wide as the Atlantic Ocean.

Another phenomenon I've observed is a response to all this ambiguity - well, actually I've observed two responses...

First, there is the response of a well guarded opinion. Many people are too afraid to say what they think, what their opinion is incase it is wilfully misconstrued by people all too willing to take the greatest possible advantage of the non-verbal gaps in text communications.

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Second, and this is what I want to highlight, there are many who are quite happy to say or write how they feel, even if it is sheltered by ambiguity and then use that ambiguity to protect themselves when others take offence to their words or catch on that they have just been made the butt of a joke they were not supposed to be privy to.

I have often heard the words, 'That was not what I meant.' or 'That was not my intention.' from people who wish to redirect blame for failed communications.

It used to be, in conversation, that the responsibility for good communications lay both with the disseminator of the communication and the recipient. Both had responsibilities when communicating. The disseminator had responsibility to be clear and concise and to choose their words carefully to impart the information they wished to communicate. The recipient's responsibility lay in listening attentively and receiving the information as impartially as they could.

With so much of modern communications being recorded, either in text or other forms of audio and visual media, there is consequently less responsibility on the recipient and more on the disseminator.

I argue this because the recipient need not listen carefully at the time of the initial communication because they can always refer back to the communication and either validate their perceived reception or have it corrected.

Therefore the onus on the disseminator to be clear and concise in their communication becomes greater as that communication can so readily be recalled in its original condition (because there are no non-verbals to be lost in recall).

When you communicate with people via the media (and by media I'm including the internet), the onus is on your to say what you mean and mean what you say. Successful people are masterful communicators. They make their intended impression and because of the endurance of the written and recorded word, that impression sticks around for a long time.

Yeah, actually, mostly... it is!
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Choose your words carefully, make them work for you and have the impact you intend them to have... This skill is becoming ever more crucial in this age of technology!

How Sif Got Her Groove Back...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Sun, 26 Feb 2012 09:51:00 +0000

I wasn't a very happy Sif the other night...

It's easy to get down when you have high hopes and they are not realised.

That said, there is nothing to gain (except momentary attention from good friends and reassurances that people do care) from dwelling on what has not materialised.

What do you do when you're feeling very, very low?

Me, I sing. I sing daggy songs to the power of 10!

So, yesterday I cocooned myself in my bedroom and spent the day listening to 80s music on the radio, surfing the net on my iPad and iPhone and singing...

I wasn't alone...

Erik and the GOM did come in and chat as well, though I didn't have the presence of mind to take photos of them as well.

I also hung up and placed a couple of pieces I've inherited from mum in the wake of my parents downsizing... These reminded me of my place in history through my connections with the past...

This blanket, which I hung on my bedroom wall, was hand stitched by my mother's father's mother.

The story goes that my great grandmother (Langamma Síta) went up to an attic in a farm in Iceland back in 1930 or so and found a section of a blanket which had a quarter of this pattern woven into it. There was some kind of indication (suddenly I can't remember if it was a written note or a date woven into the blanket) which dated the original woven blanket back to 1831 (so it was already 110 years old when she found it).

Langamma Síta took the section of blanket and mirrored the pattern four ways and then sewed that pattern onto the blanket now hanging in my bedroom. At the bottom of the blanket she sewed in the date it was originally woven; 1831 and at the top she put the date at which she duplicated it; 1941... So, now this blanket is 71 years old and the pattern is at least 181 years old. Some of the colour has faded; there is a fair bit of blue which can't be seen in this photo (mind you, my bedroom walls are also green, not cream).

I found a home for the fairy castle...

My mum made this castle one day while standing in the Ada Ryan Gardens in Whyalla way back in the very early 80s. I remember that day so well. There was some sort of exhibit of local potters and others doing courses at the TAFE in town (I think). My mum - who had been studying pottery there for a while was doing a live sculpture and decided to make this castle - Rapunzel's Castle, I think it was, or possibly Sleeping Beauty's Castle, I'm not sure now - and I remember the children crowding around her and her asking them what she should do, and following their suggestion (to some degree, at least). The castle used to have copper flag staffs coming out of each turret and flags attached, but they've since gone missing (though I plan to replace them now).

As a little girl I used to love to run my fingers along the winding path and imagine the people who lived in that tiny castle...

I listened and sang loudly to this song... Yes, I did!

Yes, when I'm down, nothing brings me back up like belting out a daggy song in a key I can comfortably manage...

So, old family ties, hanging out with my kids and singing daggy songs, those are how I got my groove back... What works for you?

Why I prefer KRudd...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Sat, 25 Feb 2012 04:01:00 +0000

My twitter stream is full of KRudd hating. People think he's smug and a whiner. I hear the majority of Australian's would still prefer him, but I don't have those people on my twitter stream.

I don't fancy myself any kind of politically aware person. What I do fancy myself is a keen observer of people, of personalities, of what motivates people. As a writer, I'm always watching people and over the years I've discovered I have a very good bullshit radar.

Twenty months ago, Julia Gillard was manipulated through pride into the position of deposing Kevin Rudd. I will not go as far as to say she was a complete innocent in the matter - there is no doubt in my mind that Julia is a woman with a sharp mind.

At the time my twitter stream was full of 'Go Julia! Finally a woman Prime Minister! KRudd didn't deliver, Julia will!'

In the intervening months I've seen much disappointment over Julia's failure to deliver things she never promised in the first place (gay marriage for one). There have been quite a few people who have said perhaps Kevin would do better...

So now we have the big upheaval of another caucus vote and questions over who will lead the Labor party as of Monday. I'm not here to say who it will be. I know Rudd doesn't have the numbers in the caucus despite polls of the people suggesting he is their preferred Prime Minister (and even then there are big questions about how accurate these polls are - they certainly don't reflect my left-leaning twitter stream, as I say)...

All I can say is who I would prefer, and why.

I would prefer Kevin and this why...

Yes, he is smug. The man can't keep that smirk of his face, he is loving the attention, he is loving the people power, he is loving that finally he is making Julia and her backers nervous. He is a bitter man and has been for a while.

smug kevin

The thing is, I'm bitter, too, so I get how he feels. I think, quite possibly, a lot of Australian's a bitter at the moment.

The other thing Australian's are is supporters of the underdog. By deposing Rudd after he signed the Kyoto agreement, after he apologised to the Stolen Generation, the faceless men created a sympathetic underdog - and one who holds grudges. They created their own worst enemy.

I have had ideals and wanted to make great changes and sometimes made mistakes and been judged far too harshly and far too prematurely, only to be proven right down the track, when the shit has hit the fan.

I get how he feels.

Meanwhile, Julia is PR managed to the hilt. I'm sure she had very strong emotions on many topics but she is a master of the poker face and the impassive mask and I don't trust that - she is a politician, after all.

Poker-face Julia

Rudd is no god, he is no saviour, he is no saint. However, he is quite transparent in his motivations and his feelings and so he is a known quantity.

Julia is much more a person to play her cards close to her chest.

Actually, the fact she has come out and personally attacked KRudd has lessened my dislike and mistrust of her because now she's showing all I have sensed lay beneath the mask. Still, it's too little emotion, too late.

I don't necessarily want a Prime Minister who is completely rational. Rationalism lacks humanity. Humanity is passionate and far from flawless.

KRudd is not cuddly and doesn't give me the warm-fuzzies. I wouldn't have him as a friend because he seems like a man who's single focus is for self-actualisation. However, there isn't much that is hidden about him and he has the ability to be humble and to admit getting things wrong, even if it is a rare occurrence. Whereas Julia believes in her own sanity and rationality - a character trait I cannot fully trust.

In the end, if Julia holds her position on Monday, I believe she will probably lead Labor to defeat. Labor will elect a new Opposition Leader and Kevin will be waiting in the wings. Ultimately, he has nothing to lose at this point and to some degree he can thank the faceless men for helping him become the underdog and creating the perfect 'what if...' situation.

No one.

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 16:29:00 +0000

2.25am and I can't sleep. Earlier today my parents left for home after an epic 10 days.

Epic because for a week of that the Grumpy Old Man was visiting them in Adelaide and getting in as much automatic driving as possible before his test. Epic because at the same time my parents were putting their house on the market after making the huge decision to simplify and downsize their life and become debt free and footloose as well.

Epic because they sold their house in record time, for the price they wanted, and bought their next home within two days (to be ready in July).

Epic because they have to move out of their home in three weeks time following an extremely short settlement time.

Epic because the Grumpy Old Man had yet another driving test to get through.

He did his driving test today - well, yesterday, Friday. If I tell you in wasn't straight forward, you'll be pretty much not surprised, right? On Thursday afternoon, after spending most of the day out of the house buying my parents new caravan (did I mention they're becoming grey nomads - although a little less of the nomad bit for the first couple of years before mum actually can retire), we came home to discover a message on the answering machine.

The message was from VicRoads and was for the GOM informing him they'd just discovered that his hazard perception test papers had lapsed and he'd need to take the hazard perception test again before he could take his licence test.

My parents were only able to stay until today because even though they've sold the house, final signing of contracts is on hold until pest and building inspections clear the house for the new owner, so there is another open for inspection scheduled for Sunday. So, having to schedule a hazard perception test first suggested the GOM would not be able to take his licence test at the time we'd arranged and might have to rebook for the earliest opening in 7-8 weeks time.

This stressed us all just a little.

The Grumpy Old Man called VicRoads and was told they could squeeze him in for the hazard perception test just before his licence test. Instead of just doing one test, he would now be doing two.

Test day... The boys went off to school and mum and I took Ari off to Forest Hill shopping centre to keep our minds off the tests - that didn't actually work so well and even remembering the day makes my stomach turn with anxiety.

We wondered around, did a bit of retail therapy (work clothes for mum and she bought Ari and I a present each), tried to have some lunch - my stomach was too unsettled to eat... It was almost time to head home on the bus to pick up the boys and I felt the vibration of the phone in my bag.

The Grumpy Old Man had left a message for me to call him back.

I did and s-dad answered the phone because the Grumpy Old Man was driving them home, for a microsecond I felt excitement - he got it! He got his licence, I thought...

No, he didn't.

Sadly, he got pinged for - get this - speeding. Of course, I didn't even believe that. The Grumpy Old Man is too cautious to speed, there is no way he could have been speeding, if anything he tends to drive too slowly.

Well, I was half right. He was doing 65 in what he believed to be a 70. Unfortunately, he believed wrongly - it was a 60 zone. That was his first critical error.

His second was that he was approaching a zebra crossing with lights, he was slowing in case it changed from green to red, and he once he was within about 20 feet of the crossing and it hadn't changed yet, he thought he would be right, but then it changed, he breaked as gently as he could, but unfortunately his tires were on the white line. Second critical error and he failed.

We're gutted. 7 was not our lucky number, after all...

Next test is scheduled but is two months away.

No car means no work. No work means no money. (yes, I know some of you don't believe that, or have a millions ideas about what you think he could be doing if he really wanted to earn some money... Don't bother to suggest them, we've considered them all already. Believe me, we do not want to be in this position)

Life feels pretty unfair at the moment.

Possibly we're just bad, lazy, heathens who are only getting what we deserve for our wayward ways. Possibly if we worked harder and believed in the right gods and gave more to charity things would start to go our way and the Grumpy Old Man would get his licence and get a job and I would get a job and we'd buy a car and save for a deposit on a house. Possibly the answer is staring us in the face. I don't know. I really don't. I feel like we follow the rules (I so, so, so badly want to get a dog right now and the tenants agreement be damned, but that would be wrong, right?) and feel like we try to be conscientious and good people. I feel like we try to keep our chins up and just keep swimming and having faith that it will all work out and I feel like right now the powers that be are flipping up a great big bird.

I feel angry and manipulated by reality.

I feel emotionally and physically exhausted.

I feel like what is the point? What exactly is the point of all of this, of struggling, of having faith in anything or anyone, of trying to play the system according to everyone's stated rules when those rules don't guarantee the desired outcome.

I want to feel safe. I really need to feel safe. I haven't felt safe in a very, very long time.

I'm sorry that this post is so dark, I'm in a very dark place. Sometimes, I see some light and I run towards it. I run as fast as I can but it doesn't seem to get any closer and sometimes - like right now - it disappears completely.

Some people say surrender, let go. I have. I have let go completely, but the falling never stops. The roaring of the wind as it soars past me in the darkness is frightening and deafening and there is no one there to catch me. No one.

I appreciate all the help the Grumpy Old Man's parents have given us over the years, and all the help my parents have given us (twice already this year they've driven interstate so the GOM could practice in and drive their car during his driving test). I am in no way saying that our families have not helped us. Unfortunately, they can't influence potential employers or testers, so they can't catch us in that sense. I'm not angry with or ungrateful of our families.

I'm angry because I don't actually believe we're lazy or bad or faithless, and we're raised to believe that if we do the right thing and are good and play by the rules and have faith that life will go our way - or at least be balanced in how much it does and doesn't go our way. Yet here we are in our 40s and 50s and we can't get a foothold. We don't expect to be handed life on a platter but we have always thought we'd be met halfway for our blood, sweat and tears. I'm beginning to suspect there is no one out there to meet us half way.

Maybe this is just the exhaustion speaking. I'll probably regret posting this in the morning - I'm going to post it anyway for honesty sake. Maybe one day I'll read this post and laugh at how blind I was.

Uptight and anxious parenting...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 03:52:00 +0000

What I should be doing right now...

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What I have been doing instead...

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Obviously, that's not me browsing the net - she's far too perky and no where near myopic enough - she doesn't have the haggard look of a bedraggled hausfrau, like me...

Anyway, on my browsing travels a few things I've read have started to tangle up with one another in my brain and got me thinking about parenting and parenting styles and all the stuff that worries parents...

First I saw this article which suggests that even having the TV on in the background around children (who are not actively watching the set) is detrimental to their development. So, when Australian parents are recommended to have no television for children under two, that means that while the child is awake, the television simply should not be on. One hour a day for 2-12 or two hours a day for 12-18 year olds means the same for the parents while those children are awake. Think about how long your average 16 year old is awake and do the math...

Television viewing is just one way in which parents can damage their children. Obviously processed foods, particularly fast foods, come to mind. Balancing not get enough sun with getting too much sun is another juggling act of parenting. The list goes on, and this is just for your average run-of-the-mill non-religious and non-idealistic parent.

Then I saw these fun videos...

...and...

I've witnessed most of these scenarios in my parenting life - and said a lot of these things myself! Yes, I've been totally crunchy. Now that the kids don't breastfed, co-sleep or require assistance getting about in an efficient manner, I do less visible crunchy stuff... But yep, for the idealistic parent, life can be pretty anxiety inducing.

Having gained almost 13 years of parenting experience now, the only thing I regret about my choices is heaping so much pressure on myself to be The Best Parent™. Living in fear of damaging my children may have damaged my children...

Okay, that's an overstatement, but I do wonder if all the anxiety about what they eat, what they watch, what they play with and come in contact with physically, mentally or spiritually isn't a new crisis we modern day parents are heaping on our children...

Remember how we all used to um-ahhhh! about 'olden day parents' who whipped their children with sapling branches because the child spoke out of turn and the parent was deathly afraid the child would be ruined if left to believe that was okay?

Yes, well, I have to wonder if 'having a talk' with your three year old because she 'harmed' your one year old by calling her baby brother a 'good boy' isn't akin to whipping a child for speaking out of turn.

In our grand quest to bring up Completely Whole Children™, might we not be causing different kinds of damage by ostracising them from society into sub-cultures where they can only play with 'natural, organic materials' and eat 'natural, organic foods they have grown or killed themselves'. Is not letting a child see their grandparent because the grandparent prefers to use disposable nappies when caring for the child, or the grandparent lets slip the odd bit of praise taking 'good parenting' too far?

Are our children our own little sociological experiments where we set out to prove that our way will lead to 'better, stronger, more individual people'?

Do children benefit from parents who take controlling their child's environment into obsession territory?

Are we perhaps raising anxious children who fear fuming plastics, buying anything new, chucking paper in the 'regular bin instead of the recycling', who baulk at food outside their own home incase it contains 'poison' (additives/preservative/pesticides), who can't play with the kid they met at the park because he has a toy gun and he's wearing a tee shirt with a cartoon character on it!

Anxiety is rampant in our society, new disorders, such as hoarding, are being recognised every year. We try to avoid medicating our children when they are small, but are we setting them up to need medicating in adulthood?

Are you an anxious parent?

10 Things Tuesday: 10 Things My First Encounter With Solo Parenting Has Taught Me...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 23:10:00 +0000

The Grumpy Old Man comes home late tomorrow night, a few hours short of a whole week parenting on my own.

I know I'm not the first woman to parent on her own. I know I'm not the first woman with four children to parent on her own. I know I'm not the first woman with low vision and ADHD to parent four children on her own for [only] a week.

But I know this has been a first for me. It's been a steep learning curve, and I've learned quite a bit from this exercise. So, I thought today I'd reflect on what I'd learned...

#1 I rely on The Grumpy Old Man quite a lot, and I don't mean to do stuff like take out the rubbish or even get up in the morning and get them ready for school (though, he does do that and bless his little cotton socks for it, because quite frankly homeschooling has been at the forefront of my early morning thoughts for many days now).

No, I rely on him emotionally. He's my sounding board for all the billions of thoughts that hustle for room in my brain box every day, and without that sounding board, I'm feel as if my head is crammed with stuff I just can't let go off because I haven't had a chance to talk-it-out. Yes, I have learned I'm a four year old.

#2 Sleeping on my own in a house full of kids isn't as scary as it used to be. Before this week, I was a big old scaredy cat when it came to being alone at night with the kids. Being alone in a house at night doesn't worry me - it's the being responsible for kids bit. Suddenly, having had kids, I worry that if there was an intruder, that person might get to the kids and I wouldn't be able to do much to stop it. Also, if there was a fire, could I manage to get four children out of the house safely on my own? I didn't used to be able to sleep much when the Grumpy Old Man spent nights elsewhere, but a week on my own has cured me of that!

#3 A lot of stuff doesn't change at all. My world hasn't been turned upside down per se. It's more like a slight tilt which can cause dizziness at times, but mostly I'm fairly well adjusted...

#4 Now, this may just be because I don't drive and parents doing a solo act who do drive might have a different experience, but I can't speak for them... When your child has a sore throat and it's getting dark outside and you don't have anything in the house to relieve their pain, it sucks to be a solo parent because there is simply nothing you can do about it. You're it when it comes to making sure you have everything you need.

I'm lucky in this regard, because my eldest is old enough to help out - this morning he had to run up to the servo to get milk because even though I went to the shops yesterday, I didn't get milk and so this morning we found ourselves short. Usually, there is someone to watch the kids while someone else goes and gets stuff, but when there is only one adult it pays to be psychic.

#5 Solo-parenting is a lonely business. Maybe not so much for people with a lot of people in their lives, but I've been so lonely this week I can't even begin to describe it. With four children there is always someone to talk to, but the conversations at always at their level and there is a lot children don't get or don't need to know.

#6 I still hate cooking.

#7 The house is a lot cleaner. I've always had this thing about not liking being watched while cleaning, so I'm not inclined to clean much with the Grumpy Old Man around the house most of the time. I do what is absolutely necessary, but leave the rest a lot of the time. With him gone though, I've become a little obsessed with getting this house clean. Maybe he should go away for a week more often...

#8 It is true what they say about the children of solo parents growing up faster because they take on responsibility earlier. This week I've relied on the older boys to do more. They've always been very capable and the GOM and I are not the kind of parents who molly-coddle out kids at all; they've always had responsibilities according to their capabilities. Even so, this morning I sent Erik and Luey off to school in charge of Bryn. I was always going to do it this year. They only have to walk a couple of hundred metres and cross three fairly quiet suburban roads (the one at the school is busiest but they've crossed it a million times). The only thing that was holding me back so far this year is that old saying, 'Two's company, three's a crowd' - if it was just Erik and Bryn or just Luey and Bryn it would be no issue, but sometimes the three of them together can lead to disputes and in that situation Bryn can become unreasonable. However, this morning I found myself sending them off on their own all the same because I'm not feeling 100%.

#9 Being the only person in charge evokes Murphy's Law. That power cable to the house that has been working fine for 80 years will suddenly blow up the very first day you're the only responsible adult in the house...

#10 I can parent on my own. I can deal with a crisis; such as no electricity at night and no transport or place to go which does have electricity. I can get by without another adult to share the load. I can get up every morning and get them ready for school and keep the house clean, and cook dinner every night, and answer every one of the billion questions that come out of the kids every day, and supervise homework, and organise play dates and so on and so forth. I can do it all on my own with four kids, no car, low vision and ADHD - but I'm ever so grateful that tomorrow night the Grumpy Old Man will return and share the load. I know that in the blink of an eye I could become a solo parent and that the future is never guaranteed, but I know that I sincerely hope that never happens!

My hat is off to all the parents doing it on their own out there!

Why I hate carpet...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 03:51:00 +0000

I hate carpet. I hate it with a passion!

The Grumpy Old Man - despite having moderate asthma and an allergy to dust mites, is quite fond of carpet. He says it keeps his feet warm. The fact he wears Grumpy Old Man Slippers ™ around the house which are probably more likely source of his cozy feet seems to go completely over his head.

Grumpy Old Man Slippers ™

The best thing about our previous house was that it had very little in the way of carpet...

I loved it for that. The Grumpy Old Man hated it. He said this was because every footfall in the house would echo and the constant clattering of little feet drove him to the edge on a daily basis.

He was overjoyed when we moved to this house with all its carpet throughout. I hate the carpet here, it's extremely ugly, and by saying that I'm actually being very generous. It's those carpet tiles that were so popular in the 60s, but which peel up from the floor, and then the edges curl and fray. In this house, the peeling, curling and fraying is so bad no one would rent the place until we came along - and I only agreed to rent this place because I decided to get off-cuts of carpet overlocked to fit most to the lounge room and the boys' room.

The extremely ugly carpet in our house and my floor covering
solutions - such as they are...

When we eventually buy, I want something like what my mum has in her house...

My parents have been extremely clever with their flooring choices. Not only is the wood beautiful, but they had it underlaid with the insulation that usually goes between second storey floors and the ceiling below to reduce sound. The insulation is thinner that standard underlay, but twice as dense. So, their gorgeous wood floors don't echo or clatter!

Getting back to why I loathe carpet!

With kids, carpet just gets grubby. There is just no avoiding it... In one house we did have a rather good carpet with regard to hiding kiddie spills... Axminster...

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While ours wasn't the same colour or design at the one pictured above, it had pretty much the same overwhelming visual effect and often visitors would leave our house complaining of dizziness...

But it hid everything...

For regular run-of-the-mill relatively plain carpet though, there is no avoiding it becoming grubby when you have a house full of kids. Actually, if I'm really, really honest, we adults aren't as accomplished as we'd like to think when it comes to transporting cups of coffee and tea from the kitchen to the living room, either.

There are constant spills and day-to-day dirt.

I'm implementing a shoe free zone as off this afternoon after spending the morning cleaning the lounge room carpet yet again...

I got stuck into the carpet with this today...

The carpet in the living room really needs a professional clean, but as it is carpet on top of carpet, I'm wary about getting a steam cleaner in. Instead, every few months I try a new carpet stain remover. Always with the same soul-destroying hope followed by disappointment results...

Here are a couple of before an afters...

These spots in front of the fire place mostly came out...

The darkest spots have lifted but the shadows remain...

Oh, and overlocked cut-offs were a great idea, but we've discovered they stretch and buckle with wear (because they're not fixed to the floor), creating ugly and irritating trip hazards.

I am absolutely, positively not going to have carpets in my next house! I hate them!

Where do you stand on carpet versus floorboards?

Whoa, my blog's become a dead zone...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Sat, 18 Feb 2012 08:50:00 +0000

Hello? Is anyone out there? Hello?

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I think I've been very boring off late...

Either that, or everyone is having a spectacular life - are you having a spectacular life? Tell me about it! No, seriously, I want to know - comment to your hearts content about your spectacular life, pleeeeease!

You see, I just realised something... The Grumpy Old Man, as grumpy and old as he is, well, he fills a very important need in me which is currently (for the past 50 odd hours) not been filled. No, not that, put your manners back in...

He's the constant adult voice in my life.

It's taken about 50 hours for me to really begin to miss not having grown up conversations. Conversations which don't centre around axes, remotes, farts or who's turn it is to clean up the bedroom/livingroom/kitchen...

This is about when Facebook and Twitter should really be coming into their own, but for some reason they just aren't doing it for me. I can't quite managed an in to conversations already in progress and I've discovered - to my horror - that I have absolutely nothing interesting to say. And by nothing interesting, I mean, if someone else posted my thoughts, I'd probably unfollow them out of sheer boredom.

Oh, the humanity!

When did I get so boring?

I keep thinking that if I can blog something fascinating, something that really inspires people or gets them thinking... Hell, if I could even get people debating... Then I might solve this little problem of the crickets...

I don't believe in feminism : discuss!

Nah, been there, done that, can't help it that I think it's a middle class, predominantly white bourgeoisie (that's a tautology, I know) pre-occupation bent of keeping women from actually just being equal instead of looking for all the ways in which they are not equal enough... Most people will disagree and (probably wisely) walk away from such a statement.

I had so much more to say when I was more idealistic. Now, I can't be bothered with ideals because they're impossible to achieve.

Brings to mind the saying, 'If you don't stand for something, you are more likely to fall for anything.'

I loathe sayings like that. They're mostly provocative and far too easy to dismiss because of the inherent flaws in their logic.

And again this week I saw a poster on Facebook with a picture of Whitney Houston on one side and, presumably, starving children in Africa on the other side and the caption 'One person dies and millions cry, but millions die and no one cries'... Provocative and ultimately useless and hateful.

So, now I don't stand for much, I don't fall for much, but I'm terribly, terribly boring, and I'm desperate for some grown up conversation - even if it's just about the weather!

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Forgetful Friday...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Fri, 17 Feb 2012 00:24:00 +0000

Been working on the premise that yesterday was Wednesday and today is Thursday, but no - that's not right...

So, was going to post a Thankful Thursday post today... Looks like it might have to be a Forget Friday post instead...

So, had I remembered it was Friday and therefore realised it was Thursday yesterday, I would have been thankful for the following:

Deciding to get a new phone on a plan last weekend!

Here's why: Yesterday morning, the Grumpy Old Man left Melbourne, bound for Adelaide and a week spent with my parents driving around in their car in preparation for his driving test.

Me being at home by myself with all the kids for a week is a first!

I've gone away with all the kids before and left the Grumpy Old Man alone at home. I've also travelled away with just some of the kids. I've been away on my own without any of the kids as well, so the Grumpy Old Man has been at home with all the kids on his own before (though no for a whole week).

I'm well aware that solo parenting four children does not make me like a single parent. I don't claim to be 'doing the single parent thing' at all. Primarily because, while I'm on my own, I know it's very temporary.

That said...

It's still a big deal for me. A very big deal. I mean, it's not just that I'm on my own with four children, but I'm doing it with low vision and ADHD - that's no small challenge. The pressure is great!

Also, not being able to drive means I can't just bundle the kids into the car and do a drive through dinner. Nor can I bundle them in the car and go anywhere in an emergency.

An emergency, ha! What could really happen in a week? Right?

So, yesterday was my first day on my own. I had also organised a playdate at our house for Bryn, so on my first day on my own, I actually had five kids after school. That wasn't a problem at all and at 5-ish the other little boy's mum came to pick him up.

We were all pottering around and I was about to get dinner started. There was a storm outside, the change had finally arrived and we were lightning and thunder watching. Then there was a small surge and the lights blinked out. The computer was just restarting itself and then everything went black again. This time it stayed black.

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We all looked at each other, no electricity. No computer, no television, no iPods. Oh no!

I put some candles on and got the boys to check the other houses in the street. They reported back that while they didn't see lights in other houses (it was still light outside, though the house was very dark), the street lights were working.

I picked up the phone to call the electricity company to check for faults, but of course a cordless phone means no electricity, no phone!

I had a look on the iPad for information (also thankful I have 3G on my iPad!) and found a number I could sms my area code to, to see if it was in an affected area. It wasn't, so I was asked if I wanted to report a fault. I rang the company on my mobile and had the following conversation with operator there...

Me: We've just had an electricity outage here [provide address]
Op: Did you check the circuit board?
Me: I'm legally blind so I can read the board.
Op: What does legally blind mean?
Me: What it sounds like, I can't see well enough to read the board.
Op: Well, then you could just say you're blind, you know!

No, seriously, that's what she said.

Anyway, she said she'd send someone around to check and it could take up to four hours. By this stage, that would be about 10.30pm.

I rang the Grumpy Old Man to let him know what was happening because he was expecting a call from me later. The boys said goodnight to their dad (with me hurry them up so I didn't lose too much charge on my mobile).

At 7pm, I got Bryn off to bed, and then a guy turned up. I was so thankful he arrived so quickly!

He reported that my circuit had, indeed, not flipped - I was sure it hadn't because I didn't hear a big bang when the lights went out.

He said the issue was with the cable from the street to the house, that it was an old cable and had finally given out - after 80 years, on the very first night that I was alone at home with all the kids for a week. Murphy strikes again...

So, our outage was just for our house! How lucky are we?

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We would have looked like this...

If I'd been on my old prepaid plan with little or no money on the phone, and nothing in the bank account, I wouldn't have been able to report the outage and no one else on the street would have reported it because they were not affected! It was raining and storming outside and I would have been stuck at home with four kids and no electricity.

I'm very thankful I decided to go and get that phone last weekend and commit to a plan contract after years and years of being on prepaid.

In the end we were without electricity for three hours and we were fine.

Funny story. After I got the other boys to bed and had transferred Ari to his own bed, I remembered that I needed to take the bins out. It was pitch black outside by this stage, but as I know where the bins are kept (no, it's not usually my job), that didn't worry me too much. So I went around the side of the house and towards the bins and walked into a bush. The thing is, I could have sworn the bush wasn't there before. It was like it had sprung out of the ground in the past couple of weeks without me noticing it. I had to go back to house to get my phone to try and make my way around this bush to the bins...

This morning when I took the bins back in, I realised - it wasn't a bush at all!

Last night when the guys were attaching the new cable they decided to cut back an overhanging tree and they'd just left the branches on the lawn right in front of our bins... Ha!

I'm joining...

...come play along!

Scattered thoughts about books and reading

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 13:36:00 +0000

Last night a tweet about this article where one mother of two children with ADHD (one who also has autism) responds to this article in the New York Times which, apparently (no, I haven't read it myself - post isn't about either of these articles, but bear with me, my own ADHD mind is actually following a logical path here), blames parents and more specifically parenting for symptoms attributed to ADHD...

I ended up listening to a radio interview with the blogging mother responding to the New York Times article. In that radio interview, she described her son's symptoms. Amongst other things she said he had difficulty concentrating to read. Which got me thinking about my own boy - who is not diagnosed with ADHD, but who I firmly believe has ADHD all the same. He's a very clever kid - much like the son of this writer. He can solve problems when he's motivated enough to summon some sort of focus, but he is mostly too restless to focus on anything for long.

This boy of mine cannot sit still. He certainly cannot read for any length of time. This is a big worry for the Grumpy Old Man and I because next year he will be at high school, and there he'll be expected to read quite a lot every day. When he was little I used to worry that he wouldn't be able to read, that he might have dyslexia. There is dyslexia in my family, but so far none of my boys seems to have it.

This boy can read. He can read enough to chat with his friends on Minecraft. He can read enough to send and receive emails. He can read enough to get by doing school work. He can read.

What he doesn't do is read - actually sit and read as a pastime . He rarely picks up a book for anything more than a minute or two. He seems incapable of sitting still long enough to really read.

I taught myself to read when I was four. I read a lot for many years. I read thousands and thousands of books. I hyper-focused on books to exclusion of anything and everything going on around me. I read with great appetite until I was in my early 20s, and then my appetite started to dwindle.

I've written about this before...

I'm confused and bewildered about it, when I stop to actually think about it.

You see, I can't focus long enough to read a page of a book anymore.

I used to blame my sight. My eyes got tired, I'd think - but, you know, it's not that because books come in audio form, and I don't listen to them either.

So, now you're probably a bit confused yourself... She was talking about parenting and ADHD, then she was talking about her boy who isn't diagnosed but who she believes has ADHD, and who can't seem to focus on reading for any length of time, and now she's talking about her own inability to focus to read even a page of a book... Where is she going with this???

Okay, maybe I don't really know where I'm going with this...

Maybe it is that I see my child struggles to read even though he can read and I see myself now, struggling to maintain focus long enough to get swept up in a book... Long enough to begin hyper focusing (the opposite extreme of the ADHD spectrum of focus, we either don't focus or we hyper focus, it's what we do).

And I guess, I'm wondering why I'm not swept away by books anymore? I absolutely adore stories! I do! So, why don't books do it for me, now?

I'm so very envious of all the people around me who wax lyrical about their love affair with books. I used to have a love affair with books, it was so sweet.

These days I feel bored, mostly. I pick up a book and try to figure out if I've read it before or not. Chances are, if it was written any time in the past 20 years, I haven't read it, but it always feels as if I have.

What is wrong with me? People recommend a book - lots of people tell my about a book and say they love it. They say it made them see the world in a whole new way, it transformed them! I read it, and I'm distracted, I'm bored, I'm fighting the urge to skip to the good bits. I'm desperately hoping there are some good bits... How can this be?

I was talking to the Grumpy Old Man about this before and he felt that perhaps I was searching for something in particular, a theme or a style and I just hadn't found it yet.

I thought about the last book I read which caused me to hyper focus... It was from the Twilight series. I cringe. I know all the book lovers around me will be gagging... I know it wasn't well written. I don't even read vampire novels! But there was something there that got under my skin. I was gripped by being inside the imbalanced mind of a sixteen year old girl caught up in infatuation.

The other book that springs to mind is Lia Hill's 'The Beginners Guide to Living'... Again, a young person struggling with his emotions...

Books about adults struggling with their emotions bore me and frustrate me - I want the protagonists to just grow up already! I don't want to read about adults behaving like teenagers and having angst. I'm not saying these stories aren't true to life - I know adult angst is very true to life. I just don't want to read about it. I don't want to read about adults falling in love either. I don't want to read crime. I don't want to read historical novels. I don't want to read post apocalyptic novels with people eating one another.

What is wrong with me?

Is it the ADHD?

Is it something else?

Has my imagination run off in the dark of night, abandoning me completely and leaving me a dried up old shell of a person who once loved books?

Can I really be a writer if the thought of reading books makes me want to run away and hide?

And linked to all of this, but not at all related... Should I push through my angst over being labelled a mother wanting to 'brand' her child and get this boy diagnosed in the hopes of him possibly gaining enough focus to pick up a book and read it... And should I possibly consider getting some help for myself at the same time?

10 Things Tuesday: 10 Inspiring Bits of Crochet!

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 04:00:00 +0000

I'm neither 'hip', nor 'with it' - in fact, just using those terms probably proves this point perfectly.

I do have a Pinterest account, but sadly I'm just not sure how to use it... So, I collect inspiring images the old fashioned way... By Googling them. Lately I've been Googling crochet images a lot. I saw a blanket on Google images a while back that I loved, but because I don't use Pinterest, I didn't pin it, and now I have no idea where I saw it.

It was a blanket where the design, although all done in granny squares, created an optical illusion of wiggly lines or distortion... I've approximated the design on an app I have on my iPad... It looks something like this (from memory)...

So, anyway, I thought I'd share some images I will pin once I figure out how to use Pinterest properly...

#1 The only way I could warm up to a tank... This practice is known as 'yarn bombing' (and not because they've covered a tank in yarn...).

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#2 Love these - I'd use different colours...

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#3 I just love the shape of these!

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#4 Very simple but very effective!

#5 It's the last two rows of this blanket which inspire me - I do love gradients!

#6 Again, I'd used different colours, but what an effect!

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#7 More triangle love!

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#8 Yes, I know it's very light, you know I wouldn't do it in this colour though...

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#9 Crazy crochet patchwork blankets intrigue me, but I like them best in tonal colour options...

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#10 But the most inspiring of all to me at the moment...

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Isn't it just devine??? I want to make this in to a bedspread, so I might not make it quite this bright (though it won't be white either!)...

What's inspiring you at the moment??? Any crochet inspirations you want to share with me, I'd love see them!

By Popular Demand: a completely non-techy user review of the iPhone 4s...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Mon, 13 Feb 2012 00:39:00 +0000

I use the term 'popular demand' rather loosely here... One person demanded... Okay, she didn't demand, but she did ask... Hey, 'By the request of one reader' doesn't have quite the same ring as 'By popular demand', so give me a little creative licence here!

Yep, I have an iPhone 4s now and yep, like every other new gadget owner I'm about to bang on about it until your head hurts - if this is not to your liking, look away now...

First off, I need to tell you, I was going to hold out for the iPhone 5. Not because of promises of an A6 chip or processor or whatever, I have no idea what that even means. Not because I've heard it'll have a 10 megapixel camera - even though I'm a camera fiend and would love a phone with the photographic capabilities of a digital SLR (without the screw on lenses, now wouldn't that be brilliant??? Boffins, get onto that stat!).

Nah, me, I wanted it because there was an enticing promise that they'd bring back the curved casing of the old 3g and 3gs. Ah, the curved casing with it's sleek lines and soft handling - how I'll miss it!

So, that's probably my first point of review... Yes, I've only had the phone for a couple of days, and yes, that's not very long, but no, I can't say I'm warming to the blockish design of the 4 and 4s casing... I do like that it is thinner than the 3g, and slightly longer as well - that gives the illusion that it is lighter, even though it is actually a few grams heavier!

So, then the next thing I'll point out is that I've moved from a 3g phone to a 4s, which means a three generation jump.

Before I got this phone I did a fair bit of research. On You Tube you'll find numerous geeky reviews of the 4s, and comparison of its speed compared to the 4 or the 3gs, and even in those reviews you'll see a considerable difference in speed (though compared to the 4, the 4s apparently takes longer to close out of apps, go figure)...

So, compared to my old 3g phone, the new 4s moves like grease lightening!

Having gone back to the 3g to help Ari with stuff, I'm appalled that I put up with its snail-through-molasses speed for as long as I did, to be honest.

Ease of use: For me, nothing has changed really. The 4s is as easy to use as the 3g ever was. To call iPhone intuitive is a slight stretch. I remember when I first got my 3g and opened the sleek packaging to find a photo-based user manual, which told me nothing of how to use it. There was also another manual, but for the life of me I can't tell you want was in that because it was in 1pt print and completely unreadable. I remember spending a fair bit of time Googling to find out how to do stuff on the phone. When I opened the box for the 4s, I found nothing had changed in that regard. Apple designers need to acknowledge that some people who buy iPhone are buying their first ever Apple product and therefore the interface is not wholly intuitive to them - even though it quickly becomes intuitive with a few quick directions (surely considering how little instruction people need to use Apple products they could produce a slim pamphlet that is actually instructional!).

I've had to Google this time around as well because, for the first time, I have a front facing camera on my phone and now do FaceTime (FaceTime is a call feature which uses the internet to perform a video call, so each person can see the other person they're talking to). Unfortunately, the clever people at Apple decided that because FaceTime is used through Contacts, there was no need for a FaceTime icon on the home pages. That's fine if you've used FaceTime before and are familiar with it, but many people haven't... So, at first I couldn't find it, I also couldn't find Contacts - they're not on the home page either. I found Contacts through the search function, but couldn't find FaceTime that way at all. So, I went to trusty Google.

The thing is, new users shouldn't need to Google how to use a phone.

I did eventually get FaceTime working, sort of. My son can contact me from his iPod, and we can FaceTime that way, and it's brilliant because it's virtually free! However, I can't seem to contact him - even if we're standing side by side. That is not so brilliant. Google has no answers for me either as most people who have been having problems are doing so on the 4, rather than the 4s.

Okay, FaceTime aside... Let's talk camera - the real reason I upgraded to the 4s! Yes, in a previous post I said I upgraded because the app upgrades I had were beyond the capacity of the 3g and that is also true, but it was the fancy new camera that motivated me the most...

Now, I know Nokia does better phone cameras - well, at least according to this guy... Heads up, he talks really fast!

But coming from the 3g, I was pretty impressed! Let me show you...

Photo taken on my old iPhone 3g

Photo taken on my new iPhone 4s

As you can see, these photos were taken in low light and the definition on the 4s is just amazing compared to the 3g! It's not perfect, but hey, it's a phone camera - what do you want???

For more comparisons, check out this review I looked at before getting the phone... Cool, huh?

The flash is great for illuminating dark scenes, but I've found it gives photos a green glow...

There are numerous phone apps which will allow you to correct this colour anomaly on the phone - or you can fix it in photoshop or a similar program... While the green glow can be annoying, having the ability to shed light on a scene is worth that little extra fiddling for me.

The other things I love about the 4s camera is that it focuses, and you can shift the focus by tapping the screen where you would like the main focal point to be. You can also change the lighting in the photo by tapping various points on the screen as it adjusts the lighting to the focal point as well.

I love the ability to zoom. Because it's a digital zoom, there is a slight increase in pixelation when you zoom, but even at it's most pixelly (yes, that's a word) it's still better than my 3g ever was!

I like that the flash can be automatic or on turned on/off manually.

Okay, now I'll attempt to upload a video I just took of Ari... Don't know how this will go... Blogger's video upload is a bit crappy so I may have to upload this to you tube and then link it up here - we'll see...

The video is easy to use and seems quite seamless on the phone, not jumpy or shaky. I honestly haven't used it that much (this was the first time!)...

For Mac users, everything else on the phone is very intuitive and not different from even the 3g. Everything is pretty much tap and play.

So, now you want to hear about Siri - right? Is she everything she's been cracked up to be... In short, yes she is. I've found her incredibly helpful for scheduling stuff on my calendar. I can now schedule two or three appointments in the time it would normally take me to tap out one on the calendar - working through all the fields and options.

Siri is also great for texting on the go, or when you're holding a wriggly child, or - like so many women - you're trying to do three things at once! This feature won't be of much use to men, I suspect, because well, they like to do one thing at a time and do it properly, or so the Grumpy Old Man reminds me all. day. long...

I still find myself a bit hesitant when talking to Siri, but I expect I'll loosen up with experience. She does mishear me about 20% of the time, and it's always well worth copy-editing texts before pressing send (she tends to think Aussies are saying 'theory' when they say her name - we all lisp, apparently). A friend texted me and said Siri had wanted to call me a 'mole'! Of course, in the US a mole isn't what it is in Australia, now is it? So, don't talk and send without checking your texts first!

At the moment, Siri can't give directions for places outside the US - will be fantastic when she can!

She doesn't know The Doctor's real name either, which was a bit disappointing. But, yes, she can tell us the square root of Pi - something we all need to know. Oh, and because I told her to, she now calls me Sexy, and that is always a bonus! Now, if only Siri had a brother with a deep voice and a Scottish accent (Apple should contact Sean Connery), just sayin'...

I've also made use of the nifty custom vibrate, so now, even if I have the phone on silent, I can feel who is calling because of the particular beat of the vibration on the phone - very cool feature!

Um, um, um, um... What else? I can't think of anything else. I'm a Mac convert so obviously, I'm pretty happy with this acquisition. I find it very easy to use because I've had an iPhone before and nothing much has changed in the interface. If you have any other not-at-all-techy questions about the phone, just ask and I'll tell you what I've experienced using it!

Whitney Houston has died, and yes, I'm crying - so what?!

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Sun, 12 Feb 2012 02:22:00 +0000

Only once before have I cried when a celebrity died (that was when Uncle Buck actor John Candy died on the 4th of March, 1994 - man, I loved that guy's work!)...

Okay, I also cried when Princess Di died - but seriously, I put that down to being swept up in a global phenomenon... Many of us lost our heads that day...

So, I just heard in the past hour that Whitney Houston died. It wasn't a great shock, what with her struggles with drug addiction over the past twenty years, but it is still very, very sad...

Whitney emerged on the music scene about the same time I really started to get into music as a listener. She had an amazing voice and I love voices! I just loved her music, her voice, her look - for me she was the real deal, the complete package. I also loved her acting, sure, she was no Jodie Foster or Meryl Streep, but she did roles that suited her public persona and so she managed the limited challenge of those roles quite well.

I particularly loved her in Waiting to Exhale.

But also in The Preacher's Wife and The Bodyguard...

I love many of her songs, but my all time favourites include (these are not official videos because I wanted my readers to access the music immediately without having to click away)...

I wanna dance with somebody

Greatest Love of All (which is what started me off crying before)...

Shoop shoop

I really love most every one of her songs, but these three always get me right at the core!

I mourn the loss of yet another creative soul at such a young age - when she was singing and acting she brought so much pleasure into my life.

Miss you already, Whitney xxx

My interesting day - and my new toy...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Sat, 11 Feb 2012 10:35:00 +0000

My new baby, I call her Sexy!

Yes, I got an iPhone 4s. I was going to hold out for the 5, but then I discovered my previous phone (n.k.a Ari's new iPod) was a 3g, not a 3gs as I had believed when I bought it. The 3g was not able to update to the new iOS5, which is fine because really I could live without all the new bells and whistles for a while. but it also meant that developers stopped making their app updates compatible with the old 3g. A lot, let me repeat that, a lot of my apps were dying a slow, painful (for me anyway) death...

And so I started looking into getting the new phone.

Previously, I'd bought my phone outright and been on prepaid. This suited me because I could really tailor my call costs and broadband access to my actual needs. However, buying a new phone outright was well outside the budget.

Most plans were also outside the budget, I have to say.

But then...

Then one day I found my home broadband shaped (for those who don't understand that concept, this means that one day my usually passably fluid internet connection started to move like a snail through molasses, ugh!). It was at the end of the summer holidays when - with all the kids at home - our daily broadband usage had crept up enough to slide over the upper limit. It was incredibly frustrating because - as you can probably guess - I rely heavily on net access. I do and I'm not ashamed of this fact, so ner!

So, I called out provider and found out that as it had been a considerable time since we last looked at our usage, both on the phone and the internet, there was new bundle which would not only quadruple our broadband access, but also give free local and std calls and free calls to mobiles on our network. All this would come at a stable monthly cost somewhat below what I was putting in the media utility each fortnight!

That freed up money for me to go on a plan for a new phone. In fact, considering what I was already spending each month on my prepaid ($30 including $10 for 200mb of data), we'd even be a couple of dollars better off!

Woot! A lovely new toy at no extra cost!

I'd been doing a lot of research over the past couple of days and this morning was the day I'd get the phone. Erik and I trotted off to the shop. I had butterflies because I haven't had great experiences with plans in the past, but I'm hoping that being more organised and working to a strict budget will make this much easier this time.

A girl came to serve us. She asked for my licence. I said I didn't have one. She asked if I had a passport (coz, you know, people always have their passports on them...). I said I didn't. She looked at me with a doe-eyed confusion which did not inspire me with confidence. I told her I had a working with children check card, and a keypass. I explained I didn't have a licence because I'm legally blind. Legally blind people use mobile phones too, surely there had to be a way around this. She went to her supervisor. She came back and asked if I had any proof I was legally blind. I gave her my vision impaired travel pass.

Apparently, that made everything okay. I'm not sure how!

So, then she starts filling out my forms, asking for address etcetera. Then she says, 'Now I'm going to get a bit personal.' I'm like, 'Okay?' She says, 'Actually, I'm going to get very personal, I hope you don't mind?'

Honestly, right about here I thought she was going to ask me what kind of underwear I was wearing. I wondered how I might explain this to my twelve year old...

Then she says, 'My dad was diagnose with cancer last year, and he has a really big tumour pressing on his brain and he's gone almost completely blind since Christmas, I was just wondering, do I need to go to Centrelink to get one of these travel passes?'

Wow!

Suddenly, I had this immense feeling of kismet. This girl was obviously struggling with the devasting news about her dad and she wasn't really sure how to proceed to get him the help he needed. So, I told her about the travel pass and about the M40 taxi card and about making sure she got a case worker for a her dad through Centrelink and also going to Vision Australia (which she had, but hadn't stayed long, just picked up some pamphlets).

And then something else happened that just made me laugh.

Loud and clear the following song started to play over the speakers... Only my favour George Michael song, ever!

Those who know me well know that whenever a George Michael song comes on, I take it as a sign that I am in the right place at the right time, doing the right thing... There is no better confirmation than this song - my favourite song!
But the strange happenings had not finished for the day...
The girl said it would take approximately half an hour for my number to be transferred from my old phone to my new phone. By the time I got home, two hours later, it still hadn't transferred. So, I called the shop... And as I put on Facebook...

So, I got the iPhone 4s today... Yeah, yeah, I know... Anyway, the service hadn't changed over from my old phone to my new one within half an hour as promised. So, I called the shop up to see if there was an issue and a CUSTOMER answered the phone and say, 'Love, you really don't want to get anything from this shop; the service is bad and the staff are rude. Good bye!' and then she hung up on me!!!

So, when I finally got through to them, I let them know what had happened - thereby relaying this customer's obvious discontent!
What a strange day!!!
Ari is happy though - he has a new iPod!

Yeah, I still have to refine using the camera properly...

Things I Know: About the future...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 14:15:00 +0000

image source

There's a bit of a running joke in this household that sharing my birthday with Nostradamus has imbued me with the power of foresight. It is true, I've seen a few things which have come to pass, not because logic says they'll come to pass, just because...

But actually, that's not what today's post is about. Today's post is about my impatience... I've just spent the last little while looking at properties for sale in our area. I've been dreaming about a second living area and a dishwasher and knowing that there won't be inspections and I can paint the walls without asking some stranger's permission first... One day all of this will come to pass. One day we'll find ourselves buying our own house - I just know it. I know like I know the sky looks blue on a sunny day and fire is hot. I feel so impatient for that day to come.

Here are some other things I know will happen, sooner or later...

The Grumpy Old Man will get a driver's licence and we will get a car we all fit into.
The Grumpy Old Man will get some kind of work.
I will get some kind of work.
Ari will learn to use the toilet and we'll say goodbye to nappies forever!
I will enrol in and eventually complete my PhD - with great marks and be able to put Dr in front of my name. You'd better believe I'll be putting Dr in front of my name!
I will get a novel publish - or maybe a book of short stories, but the entire book will be mine!
We will own our own home! (yeah, I'm repeating myself, I just think this is worth repeating...)

I know these things will happen because day by day we work towards them, one tiny step at a time and when obstacles are thrown in our way we climb over them. Sometimes we feel tired - exhausted. Sometimes we wonder if it's even worth the struggle, but we can't stop ourselves. It's the inability to let go of these dreams which ensure their realisation!

What do you know?

I'm linking up with...

...Come join me!

Thankful Thursday: Thankful for my life - and my brain!

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 02:14:00 +0000

I've been feeling very thankful lately. Nothing has changed really - the Grumpy Old Man still doesn't have a licence or a job - and yet, something has changed. Maybe it's the weather? I find it so much easier to let go of angst in the warmer months. On days like today, where the sun fills my back yard, I feel calm and as if I can take on whatever obstacles might present themselves. This is something I struggle to feel in the long, dark cold months of winter.

Yesterday, I went out with a couple of friends and had a lovely lunch and chat. One friend is a very longstanding friend, the other is someone I'm just getting to know and so she asked about why I don't drive and I explained about my low vision and she asked about me wearing glasses and I explained my vision issues stem from my abnormal brain structure.

I've blogged about my brain before, but I thought I'd share my 'funny photos' again.

For the purpose of comparison, let me show you the brain of a normal adult.

run-of-the-mill brain

The black spots in the middle of the brain are ventricles; small holes between the hemispheres of the brain which contain fluid.

So, I'm quite well endowed in the ventricle department...

my brain

more of my brain

About 30-40 percent of my brain is missing. Whenever doctors see this - even those who specialise in brains - the general consensus is that I should not be able to walk or talk. I have to admit, I don't look at these scans very often, but when I do, I feel a level of awe at the human body to compensate and work around obstacles. I always feel very thankful that despite this abnormality, I live a relatively normal life. I certainly can walk and talk! Boy can I talk!

I'm fairly certain this brain structure plays a very big part in all my idiosyncrasies - and probably is a big part of why people sometimes look at me like I come from another planet. At the same time, I wouldn't be anyone else! I'd love to be able to drive, but not if it came at the cost of how I view the world and the connections I make between ideas. I like how I think. I'm creative and I know I bring a different perspective to the world that many people enjoy (well, my husband and kids and parents, anyway)...

So, this week I'm thankful for the following:

I'm thankful that ultrasounds weren't widely available when mum was pregnant with me. Had doctors seen my brain structure they would have most likely advised my parents that I would be born in a vegetative state and there's a strong likelihood the pregnancy would have been terminated for compassionate reasons.
That my parents were unaware of the extent of my condition until I was into my second decade and as a result they treated me as a capable - if somewhat scatterbrained - human being. This has lead to me being relatively self-reliant.
I'm thankful that I can walk and I can talk. Even amongst people with enlarged ventricles, like myself, that is rare.

In other news

I've been very thankful this week that my three year old is absolutely adoring the freedom of roaming around our large backyard! He's grown independent and capable enough now to be left to his own devices for hours on end - we just peek out the back door every so often. He jumps on the trampoline, he climbs into and on the cubby house. He's let himself in under the house and into the garage - which isn't great and we've secured both those places! Mostly, I'm so very thankful that he really enjoys his own company and is content to just potter around. Being outside really helps with his emotional stability as well. Tantrums have decreased by about 80% and that makes everyone happy!

I'm grateful that we had it confirmed yesterday that the Grumpy Old Man did not actually do anything wrong on his last driver's test. His driving instructor had a chat with the tester and it was determined that there was a break in communication and had the tester been more clear in his instruction, the Grumpy Old Man would have been able to follow his instinct and would have passed the test with flying colours. The decision cannot be reversed, of course, which is frustrating, but at least the Grumpy Old Man knows he can pass the test!
I'm thankful that the cloud that was so thick over my head a few weeks ago seems to have lightened considerably. I hope it continues to dissipate!

What are you thankful for? Linking up with Kate Says Stuff for Thankful Thursday!

Write on Wednesdays: Possessing Beauty

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 09:23:00 +0000

The Write on Wednesday Spark: Possessing Beauty
Write about a collection. Write about something you or ,someone you know, collects. Think about the "why" behind the collection - why is it important to collect this particular thing? How does it make the person feel to add another piece to their collection? Is the group of objects there to be seen, to be studied or simply kept together? Write a real life story or a piece of fiction. Wherever the prompt takes you...Keep your post on the short side: up to 500 words OR a 5 minute stream of consciousness exercise. Link your finished piece to the list and begin popping by the other links. Oh, and enjoy!

The linky will be open each week from Monday to Friday. If you are playing the game, try to visit the other linkers, at least three of four would be nice. Encourage, critique and support your fellow writers.

Wisps

'How long have you been collecting them?' I asked, unable to take my eyes from the pastel coloured wisps which floated and bobbed about the leather pouch.

The girl playful prodded and twirled her finger around a lemon sherbet coloured wisp. The wisp was caught up in the current created by the girl's finger and seemed to follow her finger for a moment, around and around until she withdrew her hand. Then the wisp lost motion and floated down to the others, joining in their gentle dance just an inch or so above the pouch.

'A while, my granddad gave me this one,' she pointed to a pearly white wisp, 'It's very special to me - and then I noticed more and started taking them home.'

'Do you just take them? Is that okay?'

'Oh no, you can't just take them, you have to ask if it's okay. Most people say yes, though. Most people are very pleased that you want to keep them.'

'But what if they want to use them again later?'

'They can still use them, that is the beauty of them - you can take them away and the original owner still keeps them as well.'

'It's not like that where I come from.' I said.

'What's it like where you come from?'

'There people hold onto their's, often they keep them secret until they are ready to release them.'

'By why?'

'Because they're afraid.'

'What are they afraid of?' The look of confusion on her face made me smile. There was an innocence in this world still that I had not encountered often in my travels. It was refreshing, but it also made me sad. Eventually, one day that innocence would be stripped away, it was inevitable.

'They're afraid that someone else might lay claim to their's before they release it, and then they couldn't reap the rewards of ownership.'

'The rewards of ownership?'

'Yes, the income from selling it over and over to others.'

'So, people sell their's in your world?' The girl's face clouded over and she stroked her little mound of wisps gently. They swayed and bobbed under her hand and sent off a warm glow that seemed to intensify with her touch, 'Selling them would dull them, wouldn't it?'

I had to think on it a moment, 'I honestly don't know. You can't see and touch ours in my world like you can here. People still seem to enjoy them though, many people are addicted to them.'

The girl scooped up her wisps into the pouch, pulling it's strings shut gently. She cradled the pouch tenderly in her hands.

'Maybe the reason you can't see them in your world is because the story wisp glow has dulled from not being shared freely?'

'Maybe you're right.' I said.

10 Things Tuesday: 10 Reasons Tattoos Are Worthwhile For Women!

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Tue, 07 Feb 2012 04:12:00 +0000

An article in The Spectrum, an independent publication of the University of Buffalo went viral last week. The writer of the article, one Lisa Khoury, put forth the argument that women are 'naturally - beautiful creatures' and 'hold the world's beauty... class and elegance in their hands' and therefore should not 'vandalise the temple she has been blessed with as her body'...

Ms Khoury asked, 'Can you get meaning out of a tattoo? ... at the end of the day, are you really a happier person? Has this tattoo, for instance, caused you to learn something new about yourself? Has it challenged you? Has it led you to self-growth? Nothing comes out of getting a tattoo. You get a tattoo, and that's it.'

When I read the original article, I did so with my jaw glued to the floor. I can barely conceive of the fact that anyone still thinks this way.

I absolutely view my body as a temple, and I adorn it as a temple... Which reminds me of something else Ms Khoury said about what she thought a woman should do if she was not happy with her temple, 'She's not happy with it? She goes to the gym. She dresses it up in lavish, fun, trendy clothes, enjoying trips to the mall with her girlfriends.'

If she is not happy, she should distract herself with passing trends. She should never commit to anything long term. She should be vapid and shallow and temporary.

Yes, this article riled me up. Not because I read any truth in it but because it was written in ignorance. It was evident Ms Khoury had never asked a woman with tattoos why she gets them, or what she gets from having them.

Women who get tattoos are generally well aware that when they grow old and their skin loses it's elasticity, their tattoos will lose some shape. Everyone who gets tattoos knows the ink fades. While tattoos might be viewed as the domain of the young, more and more women in their late 30s and 40s and older are getting them these days, not to be rebellious, not from lack of foresight, but for far deeper reasons.

So, I thought I'd list 10 reasons why tattoos are worthwhile for women:

Women's bodies are beautiful and tattoos make people look closer - and not just at a women's boobs or her legs, though also these. Tattoos draw attention to the a woman's arms, her back, her shoulders, the curve of her neck, the soft pale skin inside her elbow. Tattoos highlight these, often overlooked, areas. They also draw attention to the texture of a woman's skin.
Tattoos show a woman's deep commitment to those she loves, her children, her partner, her friends, her hobbies and interest. When you see a tattoo of a couple of knitting needles in a ball of yarn and the words 'Knit fast, die warm' - you just know that woman loves to knit!

Tattoos build and build on a woman's self-confidence. You have to be self-confident to wear a visible tattoo in public - especially with the likes of Ms Khoury still walking the planet. You have to believe in your choices and own them.
Tattoos remind women of hard times; lost babies and friends. And tattoos give a woman an opportunity to talk about those she has lost when someone asks her, 'So, does that tattoo have a meaning?'
Tattoos can bind a woman to her community forever. Today is the third anniversary of the Black Saturday fires and in the town of Flowerdale men and women have gotten matching tattoos to remember those who died.
Getting a tattoo, even if it is in a concealed place, only for the woman herself, can be about overcoming a fear. The actual act of sitting and tolerating the pain of getting a tattoo engraved into her skin can be a right of passage with a permanent reminder that she endured.
A tattoo can be a sacred symbol on the skin which imbues the woman with a sense of strength, good fortune or peace.
A tattoo can, and often does, mark a time of transition in a woman's life, a time when she learned something knew about her world and her place in it - in the days, months and years that follow, the tattoo serves to remind the woman of that transition and what she achieved in her life.
A tattoo can bring new people into a woman's life. There have been many occasions where I've struck up a conversation with someone because I liked their tattoo, and likewise others with me because they liked mine. Tattoos are a fantastic icebreaker!
Tattoos are gorgeous! They are art that people commit to by wearing it on their skin. There are designs to suit every kind of taste; whether you like true-to-life, cartoony or abstract designs. Art inspires and so do tattoos!

Oh and one more, just on a person note!

For me personally, my tattoos are created by my brother and so when I wear them I'm reminded of him. I am able to wear his artwork wherever I go. This has brought us closer together.

Five Sentence Fiction - Shiver...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 01:03:00 +0000

Oh hello!

I can't believe the weekend has come and gone already! I took a couple of the boys to a birthday party on Saturday and we stayed far too late (sorry Jayne)! Then yesterday my brother came for an impromptu visit and he stayed far too late (which is why I'm apologising to Jayne - last night I realised how tired people might not say they're tired and visitors might not realised that while their visit has been lovely, it needs to come to a conclusion)!

I've promised myself this week will be the week of the 'deep clean' in this house. Today we've been grocery shopping and I'm already ready for a nap. I will push on though!

Tomorrow I'll be posting my regular 10 Things Tuesday (so, now you have prior warning and time to write your own list and link up!) and will be extolling the virtues of tattoos in the wake of a disturbing piece I read before the weekend about women's body being temples which must not be defiled by ink... Stay tuned!

Right now though, I'm going to try and be a bit writerly and crank up the creative juices for Lillie McFerrins Five Sentence Fiction - if you want to join in the fun click the button below and follow the instructions! This week's prompt is the word Shiver.

What it’s all about: Five Sentence Fiction is about packing a powerful punch in a tiny fist. Each week I will post a one word inspiration, then anyone wishing to participate will write a five sentence story based on the prompt word. The word does not have to appear in your five sentences, just use it for direction.

This week: SHIVER

Shiver

Nelly gazed down at her little boy, she'd heard babies were supposed to look like their father when they were born, but Damien looked like her dad. Nelly didn't mind; her dad was awesome, if Damien had even some of his granddad's charisma and good humour, he would do well in life. There was a faint knock on the door to Nelly's hospital room. 'Sweetheart, your mum is here, can she come in?' Nelly heard her boyfriend say in an odd faraway voice. Nelly watched her mum enter the room in what seemed like slow motion, she looked pale and had been crying, 'It's your dad...' she said before bursting into tears.

Things I know: The first day of school 2012 edition

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 23:09:00 +0000

Here we go again!

Every year for the last six years the first day of school has meant mixed feelings for me. I'm excited because the boys are invariably excited and yet, yet there is a pang of 'are we still doing this?'

Long term readers will know I had planned to homeschool. I was homeschooling until Erik, one day, came to me with some well thought through arguments for me letting him try formal schooling. When we checked out the school the boys now go to, Luey also decided to go to school.

Our agreement was that they could go to school as long as they were happy to, but if they decided to go back to homeschooling, they were absolutely free to do so. I really didn't think they'd last at school. I thought the novelty would wear off. It didn't.

Bryn could not wait to go to school. In fact, he begged me to let him go to kindergarten - which the others had not gone to. Bryn loves school, too.

I haven't signed Ari up for kindergarten yet, I should have signed him up by his second birthday, so that boat has long sailed. I'm still in two minds about him going to kinder. Who knows, he might not want to go to school.

So, today. I thought I'd share what I know about school on this first day of 2012.

I know even after 5 full years of my kids attending formal schooling, I'm still very ambivalent about it. It makes them happy, but I still mostly see the short comings of a system which must compromise far too much.
Over the past week each of my boys has come to me and said, 'I can't wait for school to start, I'm so excited!' I'm excited that they are excited. I love that they love going to school, especially when I see other children and parents struggle with their upset at the classroom door. I appreciate that they go with willingness and enthusiasm.
Today is my eldest's first day in his final year of primary school! I cannot believe how much he's grown since his first day of school when he was 7.5 years old! The thought of signing him up for a high school makes my stomach do somersaults over fluttering butterflies.
It's always lovely to walk in the school gate and be greeted by so many familiar faces - more and more familiar faces every year!
Even at the beginning of my 6th year at the school gate, I can remember the names of people I met the first few weeks of school, and yet I forget the names of people I met last year. Often I know names but not faces and faces by not names!
It was super duper fun bringing 90 boxes of tissues to the front office this morning! I won 104 boxes of Kleenex tissues through a competition on the lovely Denyse Whelan's blog late last year. 52 for us and 52 for the school, but as we don't usually buy tissues and rarely use them, I decided to give 90 boxes to the school!
The house is quiet and I have a MOUNTAIN of housework to conquer today. I actually think I'll only manage to bring it back from 'disaster zone' to 'you have a lot of children, don't you?' today, but next week I'm going to get stuck into a deep-post-summer-holidays clean. Yes, I live an absolutely thrilling life!

How was your first day of school this year? What do you know?

A little Blog and Internet User 101...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 03:04:00 +0000

This is just a short post to explain how much a blogger can a find out about their readers - for anyone who might want to conceal their identity when visiting blogs.

Some bloggers - bloggers like me - who just love numbers and watching the ebb and flow of numbers, sign up to sites where they can watch the traffic to their own site. As you can all see down on the right hand column of my blog, I have a Feedjit widget which shows where my visitors come from.

On my dashboard, it also shows what phrases they may have used to find my blog, what platform and browser they use, and which site link they may have followed to come to my blog.

I also use a free program called StatCounter. StatCounter tells me the ISP of the person who is reading my blog and it - very conveniently for me - logs an individual's visits together, so I can see how often one individual has visited over the past few days, when they visited and more importantly, where they visited from. So, if other people link to my blog from their site or blog, I can see that information and follow the link back.

I thought knowing this might help some of my readers out - those readers who might be under the illusion that I don't know they are stalking my blog and reporting what I say back to others who might not be big fans of mine.

I see you. If you don't want me to see you, best not visit, hey :D.

Spray: where I found my place...

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 02:32:00 +0000

Woot! It's back to Write on Wednesdays (yeah, I know today is Thursday, but the linky is open all week, so I'm taking some liberty with the whole 'Wednesdays' thing. I haven't written for this group for ages. The group had a bit of a break (read: write at will from prompts) over the summer holidays and so did I, but with the kids going back to school tomorrow - seriously, these holidays have been so short! - I thought it best to kick my own butt back into gear.

I know many of my readers don't come here to read my flash and short fiction pieces, so if this isn't your thing (if you're more into searching my blog for tidbits of juicy-ness to pass onto your pals - stat counter pathways is an amazing tool for a blogger, seeing which sites readers follow links from is fascinating, hehehe!), then I'm cool with you skipping this one.

On the other hand, if you're a budding writer yourself - go for it! Click on the button below and link to your own piece of fiction, I'd love to read it!

So, here's the deal...

The Write on Wednesday Spark - The nature of place
Think about a place in nature that feels special to you. Perhaps it is somewhere you visited as a child. Or maybe you share a special outdoor space with your own children. This place, this space will be your prompt for this week's writing exercise. Write about a particular natural geography, a natural place or space close to your heart. Tell us about the weather, the landform , the creatures who live there, what the place means to you and why. You can write prose fiction, poetry, non-fiction and/or a photographic narrative. You might mix the landscape with a personal story. Wherever the prompt take you...Let us peak into your place.

Keep your post on the short side: up to 500 words OR a 5 minute stream of consciousness exercise. Link your finished piece to the list and begin popping by the other links. Oh and enjoy.

The linky will be open each week from Monday to Friday. If you are playing the game, try to visit the other linkers, at least three of four would be nice. Encourage, critique and support your fellow writers.

This week I've decided to write a reflection, so none of the following is fictitious. As I wrote this, I realised I live too far from water - not just water, but from the sea. Although moving isn't an option, I think when the Grumpy Old Man gets his licence, we will definitely need to make some trips to the sea!

This photo is not of the place I'm describing, in fact
this photo is taken in Greece - a place I've never
been to. However, this beach is not dissimilar to the
one I remember. image credit

Spray

As a girl, I had a place I liked to go when I needed to feel the forces outside my body storming with more strength and fury than those within my body. I recently looked this place up on an internet satellite but couldn't find it where I remember it being. I wonder if it an amalgam of my memories. Perhaps a collage of the many wild places of my childhood up in the arctic circle.

I remember the place, a small nook within a fjord; a pebble beach surrounded by craggy outcrops where the sea would crash against rocks and spray salty mist onto my face. I remember the place as constantly shrouded in dark clouds, but I'm sure the sun must have shined there sometimes as it was only accessible during summer.

In winter, the snow lay thick and white on the rocks making them too treacherous to navigate. During winter I would miss my visits and long for the snows to melt. I often dreamed about this place. I still do.

So, I only visited my thinking place in the summer months.

As I reflect on this place, I wonder if the clouds and winds and spray wasn't simply Mother Nature reflecting my own turmoil back at me as a mother does with a small child to help the child understand their own feelings. A 'You're feeling very frustrated right now, I know' on a grand scale.

In the careful caresses of Mother Nature, I would lay out my warring emotions and come away from that place feeling clearer and calmer having deposited my fears and frustration on the volcanic rocks to be washed out into the Atlantic. My wounds were healed by the briny spray in on the rocks in the crook of her arms.

I would watch seabirds float on the air currents above me and let my spirit be carried a distance with them. I would follow a wave as it billowed along its path, crashing into a clean white froth on the shore. The light, soft spray would cool my angry hot cheeks leaving a thin crust of salt that tightened my skin.

I always felt an awe for the forces around me, and yet I felt utterly connected to them as an extension of my own person, except with all the wisdom of ancient experience. I felt a deep feeling of belonging, of being watched over and cared for by forces beyond my comprehension. I felt small and immense all at once in my thinking place.

It was in that place that my understanding of the universe formed. It was there that formal religion fell away for me, exposing my naked soul and connecting it directly with the pure energy all around me.

I long for that place whenever I need a balance to the wilderness raging inside me. I visit that place in my dreams, even now.

MOST births are VERY risky and RARELY go to plan: Homebirth should be illegal.

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 14:48:00 +0000

Tonight, I read this blog post over a Kate Says Stuff and it led me down the heartbreaking path of reading about a mother who died in childbirth and two little girls and their dad who now must mourn her, each in their own way.

Had she died in a hospital, this might not have made the news unless the doctors who treated her were suspected of malpractice. This woman, however, died (in hospital) the day after giving birth to her second daughter at home.

I really don't want to discuss this particular incident, mainly because I have no facts. I only have hearsay from third and fourth hand sources.

What I want to talk about is the utter dismay I feel reading many of the comments to various online newspaper and social media articles about this tragedy. Let me get it straight - the tragedy here is that two very young children and their father have recently lost the greatest love of their lives. The tragedy is that mother cannot hold her babies or her husband. The tragedy is the loss of all the dreams the couple had dreamed about their future together with their family.

The tragedy is not that the woman chose to birth her baby at home.

Are we clear? Good.

What I want to talk about is the rubbish that is passing itself off as knowledge and wisdom and common sense in response to this tragedy.

I have read comment after comment about how inherently risky and dangerous natural birth is. I have read comment after comment about how people who have chosen to birth their babies in hospitals have done so because they just want healthy and happy babies. This last point is so incredibly insulting to women who birth at home that it beggars belief!

I have read comments that say we live in a lucky country where we have access to medically supervised births - and that midwives are not qualified to respond to medical emergencies in birth.

The title of this post is a condensation of one comment I read that made me want to laugh and cry all in the same instance.

Let's just look at that statement for a minute - rationally.

MOST births are VERY risky and RARELY go to plan.

The caps locks were the commentator's.

First, let's look at the word 'most'. Most means more than half. Most means the majority of. So, to say most births are very risky, implies that most babies and mothers need to saved from death and or injury during birth.

How does this stack up with common sense? Well, in those third world countries people like to point to as an example of the horrors modern medicine has freed 21st century mothers-to-be from 'most' babies don't die or suffer injury at birth. In fact, the highest infant mortality rates in the world sits below the 5% mark. These are in war torn countries where medical infrastructure is basically non-existent. Countries where there isn't clean water, let alone expensive machines that go ping. Five percent is, by no stretch of the imagination, 'most births'.

Let's talk about VERY risky births.

In many of the poorest countries in the world overpopulation is the big problem. More children in India and parts of Africa die from malnutrition and disease after birth than die during labour or birth itself. They survive this VERY risky process, only to starve to death afterwards.

In China, in the one child policy was established in 1978 because the reproduction rate was more than the society could handle. Was China overrun with 21st century medical know-how and machinery? It must have been if so many of their children survived all those very risky births.

In fact, the human population reached 7 billion last year. Most of those people were born in China and India, not Australia or the US where we have such wonderful modern medicine that saves lives, but in the countries where most children are not born under the best medical conditions with life saving technology down the corridor...

As for RARELY goes to plan...

I have to say, I would probably agree with this statement more than the other two. For most women I've ever spoken to (and Lord knows I've spoken about birth with thousands of women over the past 13 years, I am not kidding!) births have not gone to plan at all. Sometimes they don't go to plan in a very bad way, in the worst way you can imagine, even in hospital. Sometimes they don't go to plan in nice or even funny ways. Most often when they don't go to plan in hospitals there is medical intervention early in the piece, and all too often that medical intervention is based solely on hospital policies. Hospital policies never take into account the individual woman, if they did, they wouldn't be policies.

The cascade of intervention is not merely a fear inducing term coined by rabid homebirthy types, it's a medical phenomenon that many midwives, obstetricians and other medical professionals are beginning to have growing concerns over. The (in excess of) 30% of caesarian rate we have in Australia does not reflect the inherent 'risk' of birth, even the obstetricians pushing them have agreed on that point.

The fact that births rarely go to plan is because very few mothers-to-be plan to be induced, leading to higher than natural pain levels, leading to a greater need for chemical pain relief, leading to lethargic mother and baby, leading to drops in heart rates on monitors which confine the mother's movements in labour when she needs to be helping her body to warm up and be supple and stretch.

Few women plan to have an injection which forces their body to hurriedly expel the placenta, increasing the risk of post partum haemorrhage.

Few women plan to be rushed in a panic to a theatre and be cut open and have their shocked baby separated from them to have their passages cleared and pumped full of air for their first breaths.

Sadly, after most intervened births, where there was a cascade of interventions as each intervention lead to the necessity of another, all because the mother and baby didn't managed to keep an arbitrary pace for labour and birth, women can't imagine that their birth could have possibly gone any other way.

They can't imagine that their baby may have instigated labour even 12 hours after the induction drip was started - if left to their own devices. They can't imagine that labour wouldn't have hurt as much if the contractions weren't induced by a chemical. They can't imagine that they may have dilated faster if they could move around freely. They can't imagine that all the 'things that went wrong' might not have happened with that same baby if the labour was managed differently.

Because they can't imagine these things, they only know labour and birth to be inherently risky. The cumulation of these risky births in the media then gives rise to a strange sense of 'common sense' that birth is mostly a risky business that rarely goes to plan.

And yet, 7 billion people populate the earth, and most of them don't have access to our excellent medical system.

10 Things Tuesday: 10 Reasons They Couldn't Get To Sleep!

noreply@blogger.com (Sif Dal) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 23:34:00 +0000

'Mum, I need to wee!'
'Dad, I need a glass of water!'

We've all heard them all before, the numerous excuses older children come up with to prolong the process of getting off to sleep.

After a number of glasses of water being needed, I bought the boys a drink bottle each to take to bed. I also policed their toileting before bed.

We've always parented to sleep, but even so, the amount of antics can get unbearable at times. I thought I'd share my 10 favourite less common excuses the boys have come up with as reasons they absotively posilutely cannot get to sleep!

1. From Bryn: I just need to know if you're going to make me a Ben10 birthday cake for my next birthday (in 8 months time).

2. From Erik: I'm too hot, I can't feel any breeze from my fan (which is standing literally 20cm away from my bed and directed straight onto me at gail force blast).

3. From Each boy at one time or another: It's not night time yet (at 8pm during day light saving - I have cursed day light saving more times than I care to recount).

4. From Luey: Bryn keeps answering me whenever I ask him a question - he's keeping me awake!

5. From Erik: I can't sleep in a room with two other people (having slept in a cabin with six other people at school camp just the week before).

6. From Bryn: But I need to check if the tooth fairy has taken my tooth yet (it's still in his mouth...).

7. From Erik: Mum, I just thought you might want me to kill some mobs for you so you can get some bone meal to grow grass on Minecraft (two hours after I sent him to bed).

8. From Luey: Erik farted, and then Bryn farted and now I can't breathe in there anymore.

9. From Erik: Luey farted, too, it was his idea in the first place!

10. From Luey: My fingers keep getting stuck in my knotty hair! (when I told him I was going to give him a reverse mohawk, he rolled his eyes at me and said, 'No! I'll just brush it!').

What out of the ordinary reasons has your child given for not being able to go to sleep yet?