The House Tucked In.
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The House Tucked In. – RRSAHM
The House Tucked In.
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
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May 23, 2011 at 3:21 pm -
It is peace, it is paradise:)
- May 23, 2011 at 10:54 am
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You have such an amazing gift Lori! Never stop writing
- May 23, 2011 at 9:17 am
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Beautiful!
- May 23, 2011 at 8:27 am
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I just love your style of writing. I imagine myself there… no matter what you're writing. Lovely.
- May 23, 2011 at 4:42 am
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Lovely xxx
- May 23, 2011 at 2:40 am
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Thanks gorgeous. x
- May 23, 2011 at 2:09 am
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Beautifully written…
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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Rememories.
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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: The Crappest GiveAway Ever (really, this time)
Karma Blockers. – RRSAHM
Karma Blockers.
Annnnd… this*. I’m never sure if it’s the chicken or the egg that comes first– if I get depressed because I let that procrastination take over, or if that procrastination taking over is a symptom of the beginnings of depression.
But they feed each other. Depression, anxiety and their concubine, apathy; they get together have a big ol’ ménage a trios in my mind and I’m the one left feeling exhausted and spent and seedy.
‘Your inbox will never be empty’, they like to say; and I’m fairly sure that was said back when an inbox was an actual box, as in ‘a tray on your desk’, rather than a folder in your email account. There will always be things to be done on your list of Things To Do. The key to it all is to give yourself a finishing time, a point in the day where you have done enough and can relax…
Which, in theory, is just fine.
My problem is that things seem to linger and stay on my list of Things To Do for longer than is reasonably necessary. I go to bed each night with the Things To Do list written, with the very best of intentions… Only to find the next day slips through my fingers like sand, like silicon; and I’m left repeating the whole process again.
I have a phone call on my list of things to be done that has been there, either transferred from list to list (both digital and papered in notebooks) for almost a year now. Roughly 360 days of saying “I will do that, tomorrow”. Roughly 360 days of beating myself up just slightly.
‘Clean the gross gunky stuff off the top of my kitchen shelves’– that one’s been on the list for eighteen months. Since I moved into this house.
‘Sow new buttons on Chop’s school shirts‘ is currently entering its seventh week of inbox loitering. ‘Make dentist appointment’ is cruising at three weeks.
It’s not as though any of these tasks are particularly important or life changing or ominous. They’re not even difficult. It’s just that even beginning them seems so many kinds of momentous. So I follow the steps of the dance of the chronic procrastinator and write lists, ignore them, rewrite them then ignore them some more.
They begin to feel as though they pile up on my soul as well as my lists, like the constant ebbing pressure of knowing I need to do them is eating big ulcerated holes in my mind.
It’s on those occasions that I’ve found it best to instate Anti Procrastination Day, FlyLady style. And take the veritable, bitching bull by the horns. Stop thinking too much about things and do things instead.
I’ve taken to calling them, in my mind, ‘karma blockers’, those annoying tasks and Must–Be-Done’s. Because it very much feels as though that is exactly what they are– they force up huge blocks in the way of the flow of life. They disrupt energy, negate change. And it’s impossible to invoke a sense of lightness when something makes you feel so heavy.
I like to imagine myself as some kind of video game heroine, doing great big round kicks and Matrix-style slow jumps through the air while I explode the things on my Things To Do list, kicking butt over one thing after another, growing stronger and gaining some kind of reward– life points, maybe, or just general good karma. And I walk around for days afterwards feeling alive, feeling good. Feeling like a mother f*cking adult.
I hate the feeling of things left over, of tasks left behind, gathering dust. The permanence of them annoy me– I can manage to cross a dozen things off my Things To Do list in a day, but none of them will be important. I think the rationale behind that thinking is as simplistic as it seems– I tend to do the easiest tasks first, the ones easy to cross off. I think we all do, maybe.
So the easier things slide off the list, daily, and only the karma–blockers remain.
***
It’s Anti–procrastination Day here in the TinyTrainHouse today. I have done six million loads of washing and am about to vacuum the goddamn floor.
Like the responsible adult I am.
*I have, evidently, been spending far too much time on Reddit lately. More on that, soon.
Leave a Comment
{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
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March 28, 2013 at 8:19 am -
March 14, 2013 at 3:12 pm -
Lori, some people’s lives are simple enough they can make to-do lists, modify them, and get through them.
Your life and my life is not like this.
Schedule a time a week to get things done… I see you already figured this out
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March 14, 2013 at 9:53 am -
But, but… it’s so much easier to procrastinate…
I mean, my inbox is always empty, because I’m not very popular, but my to-do list is always pretty long, and instead of putting it anywhere useful, I keep it in my head. If you know anything about my memory, you will know this is a bad, bad idea.
But getting shit done is awesome for making you feel like a real, proper, full-sized adult. Lord knows, I need that feeling as often as possible.
(…and reddit, I’m intrigued. I’m signed up but haven’t been able to get into it yet. I think I need some persuading…)
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March 14, 2013 at 4:38 am -
Whoops, I relied to Chelsea not the post, sorry Chelsea! I’m off to go and find what other internet obstacle course I can win at next…
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March 14, 2013 at 1:24 am -
Oh my god!! Me too!! I have unpaid bills, a bank account unmanaged, taxes to complete, work stuff to do, a house to clean. (hold on, anxiety attack brewing) And I don’t ask for help, because it’s my own damn fault that the pile is there. Go be an adult, a Carrie Moss, butt kicking, Matrix adult. (the baby inside me cries: I don’t know how)
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March 13, 2013 at 10:36 pm -
Yes, this is me. Only I rarely write physical lists. Only for groceries, and then forget them at home to my daughters mixed amusement and frustration. My lists are in my head, I think that makes them seem bigger, harder, insurmountable. They go round and around with the depression self talk until I over think myself into just giving up. Oldest item on my list is 6 or 7 years old, and I can count hundreds of dollars that I have lost because I let time slip by in depression/procrastination.
I can gauge my days and mental health according to the dishes. on good days i don’t think about them or have to work myself up in an effort to do them. I just do them. I like those days.
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March 13, 2013 at 10:07 pm -
Right there with ya on this one Lori…
my list of delayed important stuff is well, longer really…just don’t have the time or inclination to hold that dash button down any longer
Griff recently posted…This Video Should be compulsory viewing for all kids
- March 13, 2013 at 10:10 pm
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Hehehe, silly html tag interpretation…I did write ——————————————————————————this—————————————————————–long————————————————-, with > < those little thingies at each end (other way around…but they are html tags that hide content….(the geek shall now shut up and leave this comment)
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- March 13, 2013 at 9:49 pm
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in answer to your first paragraph question, I would say (to quote you) it’s “that procrastination taking over is a symptom of the beginnings of depression.” x
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March 13, 2013 at 8:41 pm -
The anxiety, low mood, need to control becomes so normal that it becomes impossible to tell what is depression and what is just “you”. It is easy to lose sight of the fact that they can be changed and are not an inherent and fixed part of your personality. The most liberating thing for us anxious types is to let go of the reins for just a second. To stop tryign to control and contain with endless lists. But it’s bloody difficult isn’t it? The anxious, controlling place has become like home to me and anything else makes me profoundly uncomfortable. but maybe we need to be go through uncomfortable to get to the really good stuff……
only just seen the new blog btw – wowser!!
M2Mx
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March 13, 2013 at 7:55 pm -
Lol Lori that is me all over. I think I’m an anal list addict. I love them and hate them both at the same time. Lists everywhere for this and that. I know some people find my lists quite amusing. And well the procrastination is another thing I also understand. But on those days when you accomplish some of those things that have been put off its a great feeling of achievement. Some days just don’t have enough hours, to fit it all in without completely exhausting yourself. So just another thing to get down about. Just don’t think about it too much
- March 14, 2013 at 4:36 am
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Definitely not just you and when it takes over or becomes more a way to kick yourself than a sign that there are too many tasks and not enough helpers it’s more likely to be option 2 than 1.
On a particularly bad month, I found this: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/adventures-in-depression.html It never ceases to make me smile and nod and just think, okay there is a bigger thing that needs looking at here and it isn’t the pile of washing. One day of being a slave to it helps me avoid five days of self-harm to the soul.
Best joke line about depression ever (via above):
“I had spent my last feeling being disappointed that I couldn’t rent Jumanji.”
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Previous post: Healing.
Next post: “Never get between a lioness and her cubs…” – Darrell and DFAT And What Happened Next.
Internet Archive Wayback Machine
A Million Things. – RRSAHM
A Million Things.
There’s a million tiny little things that make up the whole a person, is there not?
A million things.
His name was Anthony, but no one ever called him that unless he was in trouble.
He was Tony. And his mates called him Toz.
He loved ice cream. He had tonsillitis as a kid, and he blamed it on that. But he loved lollies too.
He was just a big kid at heart.
And roast dinners were his favorite, and I cooked them for him once a week. One of the best compliments he ever gave me was that I cooked a roast just as good as his mum’s.
Not really. He gave me compliments all the time. He called me babe, and told me how sexy I was. Especially when I was pregnant.
He loved pregnant women, he thought they were so beautiful.
And he loved my tiny ears.
He was covered in tattoos, his back, his arms. He looked so tough, you wouldn’t cross him. But he was such a teddy bear.
All his tattoos, they were for someone, someone he loved, a family member. His body, he’d so often said, was for his family.
I think, maybe, that’s why the concept of organ donation bothered me a bit, at the end. Someone cutting up his beautiful body, his artwork. His tattoos for us.
But a donor he was. With a perfect donor heart.
My Tony, he had a huge heart. He would give you the shirt off his back, the money from his wallet, if he thought you needed it. Especially for his family. He was the only male, and he took such good care of them.
Tony hated wearing a suit for work, for funerals. But he didn’t mind wearing one to dress up, for a wedding, for the races. And he looked so damn fine in one.
He was such a good looking man. Tall and strong,with big arms. One of the ICU nurses commented, in the last few hours, what a good looking man he was. All I could reply through my tears was “He’s such a spunk.”
And he was. He was so confident. And that was so sexy. He could carry on a conversation with anyone, and did so. He was always smiling. He knew everyone, everywhere we went someone would come up saying “Toz! How are you mate?”.
And he told me he loved me, ten times a day. I remember, I asked him, once or twice when we first got together “Do you love me?”
And the answer I got was “Can’t you tell by the way I hold you that I do?”
And I did, always. He treated me like I was so fragile, and tiny, I may break if he handled me roughly.
Even when I crawled into bed, next to him, late at night, I’d whisper “I love you babe” and kiss his broad, snoring back. And he’d mutter, in the depths of sleep “I love you, too”.
Even in the depths of sleep.
Even in the hospital, never conscious but slightly responsive. I’d say “I love you” and he’d flex his feet, try and open his eyes.
Twice I discovered I was pregnant, and twice I cried. And both times, Tony tried to disguise his smile and said “Don’t worry, darl. We’ll figure it out.”
He loved to swim. He pottered in his shed, ‘working on his car’, which was euphemism for playing with tools or doing whatever boys do in their sheds.
He took our son for train trips. To nowhere. He’s leave The Bump and I to sleep on a Sunday morning, and he and Chop would catch a train to the next major station, get off, buy chocolate milk, then get back on and come home.
And they both had the time of their lives.
Tony loved his back being rubbed, his hair being played with, when he had it- any stress, and he’d shave his head. I wish he had, those last few days, I might have known something was wrong.
As a kid he loved Star Wars, and there was a part in a Stephen King movie that scared him senseless, that we laughed over when we watched it together as adults.
He surfed. A few days before he died, he went surfing for the first time in fifteen years, and stood up, twice. He also lost his wedding ring.
And replaced it, that afternoon, because it was so important to him.
I’m so glad he did.
He took me on huge driving holidays, because I was afraid of flying. I told him in the hospital, “If you come out of this, we’ll fly. We’ll go wherever you want.”
His favorite song was INXS’s Mystify, and we played it at his funeral.
He was proud of me, and encouraged me, every step of the way. He told me I was tough. But made me feel so beautiful.
On our wedding day, as soon as we got to talk once the pomp and ceremony was over, the first thing he said was “It just feels so right, doesn’t it?”
I didn’t even need to answer.
I miss him. I can’t even explain, how much it hurts.
***
There is a spot in my backyard now, that seems to pull at me. A vortex. The most powerful place in the world, perhaps.
The backyard of a family home. My daughter was born there. My husband hung himself there. Those two events, they happened only three feet apart from one another.
And now we have the space in between.
Leave a Comment
{ 75 comments… read them below or add one }
- April 5, 2011 at 9:53 pm
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Came across your blog today. I refer to my husband as "The Man" on my blog too =)
Your Tony was truly handsome, thank you so much for sharing his, and your story. I struggle with severe depression, and reading your side really puts a new light on things, in my own relationship, and that is invaluable. Thank you for sharing your pain, and your love. (((hugs))) - February 20, 2011 at 4:54 am
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What a beautiful set of memories.
- February 17, 2011 at 10:13 am
- February 16, 2011 at 9:28 am
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Wow; beautifully written, about a special guy
- February 14, 2011 at 8:53 pm
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I loved his voice, what a spunk, big hunk o man. yeah for sure i see why you chose him
smiles and hugs and all that good stuff Lori. x o x - February 11, 2011 at 6:45 pm
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Thank you for sharing your wonderful memories of a wonderful man. No matter what happens in your life, and no matter how much you miss him, no one can take those memories from you. Clutch them to your chest, and hold them close. xo
- February 11, 2011 at 4:15 pm
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Hello Ms Lori, I do love to read your thoughts. You are eloquent, even in your sadness. Love shines through in everything you say. May I say this all to personal thing to someone that I have only come to know through this blog, your Tony was a lucky one! Please take good care and kiss those babies.
- February 11, 2011 at 1:46 pm
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Darling girl, you won't know me from Adam. But believe me so SO much; that the gift you have given so many people is just something that I cannot put into words. My father was the recipient of a liver this time last year and, without people like you and Tony; he'd have died.
Take comfort in knowing that as a certainty – if nothing else.
So, thank you. From me; and from whoever is lucky enough to be the recipient of such a wonderful persons beautiful gifts.
Outside that, I don't know what to say except for you break my heart a little every time I read.
- February 11, 2011 at 11:14 am
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Just beautiful Lori. And your descriptions of Tony here are such a stark contrast to the behaviour he was exhibiting at the end. I'm understanding even more about what you are saying about men and their mental health.
Much love to you. - February 11, 2011 at 8:25 am
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Remembering like this is wonderful, and seems like it would be healthy. And it will be a wonderful legacy to pass on to your kids when they're older…the wonderful times you had with their dad!
- February 11, 2011 at 3:37 am
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I don't even know what to say. Keep the faith. Try to, anyway.
- February 11, 2011 at 1:57 am
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Simply gorgeous x
- February 11, 2011 at 12:55 am
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keep writing lori, your kids will love this little details one day
- February 10, 2011 at 9:20 pm
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he sounds like an incredible man. That was a stunning post, Lori. I think of you often, you've touched my life with your story. thank you.
- February 10, 2011 at 8:03 pm
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Beautiful
- February 10, 2011 at 4:43 pm
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Beautiful. Painful. Powerful. I recently found your blog and can't remember how I even I did so. I am so very sorry for you and all the that your going through. My heart goes out to you. The "space between" is haunting. I love your writing and courage within it.
- February 10, 2011 at 4:05 pm
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Beautiful – there's nothing else to say x
- February 10, 2011 at 2:48 pm
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Lori, you are writing even better than ever before. Even without the pull of your heartbreak, the push of the 'what now?', this is such fine, fine stuff.
I hope you are writing a book on the side. x
- February 10, 2011 at 2:23 pm
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Lori, you have brought me to tears again. What a man you had. So similar to my spunky man. You have inspired me to do a fear of flying course and I have booked in for the next session. Thank you xxxxxxx
- February 10, 2011 at 1:50 pm
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What a beautiful post Lori. Gorgeous.
Perhaps the only thing stronger than the vortex is yours and Tony's love for each other. I hope that love can fill the space between.
Sending LOVE and STRENGTH
PS – Is "spunk" an Aussie word?
- February 10, 2011 at 12:55 pm
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That was gorgeous – such a loving tribute. Much love to you.
- February 10, 2011 at 12:36 pm
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God. This is beautiful. Incredible. Love you. xo
- February 10, 2011 at 11:55 am
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You just keep taking my breath away… What a perfect post, such a tribute to your love…
I only hope that one day, even if its far, far away, that in between space is again filled with much happiness and hope
- February 10, 2011 at 11:37 am
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Was a beautiful, loving man.
Keep writing.
xxxx - February 10, 2011 at 10:26 am
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He sounds wonderful. The world would be a better place if men like this stuck around. I wish he was still here for you Lori.
- February 10, 2011 at 9:39 am
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Awww…. {{{{{Lori}}}} Another gorgeous post. Your man sounds like a phenomenal person! You are truly blessed to be loved by him! I am married to a good man myself, but I still find myself being a smidge jealous! =) xo
- February 10, 2011 at 7:57 am
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You loved him and he loved you.
This, you can be sure of. - February 10, 2011 at 7:44 am
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Wishing I could find the words to comment the way that you find the words to describe your dear Tony. Thinking of you as you navigate the space in between.
- February 10, 2011 at 7:19 am
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And posts like this, they help fill the space in between, until bit by bit that gap disappears. Or, at the very least, the gap will seem smaller than before, more like a crack, and you'll be stronger again…
- February 10, 2011 at 7:02 am
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Ouch. This post has fingers that rip and tear at your insides, exposing the scared little 'million' things we all hold dear with our own loved one.
"The space between…." whenever you are ready, is now for Lori, Bump and Chop to honour a great man and restake their place in our world. We will hold you with open hearts xoxo
KT - February 10, 2011 at 6:22 am
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Gosh, you make me cry.
I'm so sorry for what you are going through, even though I know my words probably don't mean much, I feel like I have to say it anyway.
XOXOXOXO
- February 10, 2011 at 6:14 am
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That would have to be one of the most powerful things I've ever read.
- February 10, 2011 at 4:14 am
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This is so beautiful. It's a window into what a wonderful person he was, and why you loved him so.
- February 10, 2011 at 4:09 am
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You should sell the damn house!!
- February 10, 2011 at 3:25 am
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You've made me feel as though I know him, and make me wish I had.
- February 10, 2011 at 3:14 am
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I'm so, so incredibly sorry that you lost your best friend. I see so much of myself and my husband in the words you wrote that I just can't even imagine your pain. Please know I'm sending you love and blessings from afar.
- February 10, 2011 at 1:47 pm
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This is so sad but also so beautiful. I wanted to thank you. I lost my cousin and my best friend to suicide within months of one another. You writing about your husband has helped me more than you could imagine. I found my best friend after she died and afterwards my mind shut down. I couldn't talk about losing her for years. Even now, over ten years later it is very hard. I wish I had talked/written about it as you have. I am sure it would have helped me deal with it.
Thank you for your honesty and courage. I am thinking of you. I am so terribly sorry for your loss.
- February 10, 2011 at 2:23 am
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So beautiful, Lori! *HUGS*
- February 10, 2011 at 2:18 am
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Some guy your Tony. Never let the good memories fade. x
- February 10, 2011 at 12:16 am
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perfectly put lori
- February 9, 2011 at 11:59 pm
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He sounds like a wonderful man, and what you had was so precious and beautiful. I'm so glad to see you hanging onto that.
- February 9, 2011 at 11:21 pm
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Beautiful. xoxo
- February 9, 2011 at 11:10 pm
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Oh this post is so beautiful. So heartbreaking. No one should have to endure this. You are in my thoughts today.
- February 9, 2011 at 10:45 pm
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Lori, you write so honestly, he was a beautiful man and Ive known him a long time and even I learnt something about him reading that, you made him so happy Lori i love the way he would write beautiful fb status' about you, i envied your love for one another it was something special… Keep taking one day, one step at a time, i wish you all the strength and support you need to get through this, take care of you
- February 9, 2011 at 10:24 pm
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Beautifully written.
Thank you for telling us about Tony. About the man you loved.
CheezelMonster
- February 9, 2011 at 10:22 pm
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The space between those two events is all the happiness that you have written about. Hold that space nice and tight.
- February 9, 2011 at 10:12 pm
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Lori, haven't posted before but just spent the last hour in tears catching up on your story. Your words are absolutely amazing. I have never read such honest, from the heart words in my entire life. You are truly an incredible person and a million thank yous for sharing your story. I don't think I always know where my husbands head is at all the time but tonight I will be checking. Thank you x
- February 9, 2011 at 9:57 pm
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It's really lovely to hear about the man you married <3
- February 9, 2011 at 9:57 pm
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"The space in between" is where you build your new life. One that honours all of the beautiful things about your Tony and yourself. Remember all the beautiful things that life can still offer and fill "the space in between" with them.
xx
- February 9, 2011 at 9:47 pm
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I love this post. I'm so glad you can remember the big things and the small things too. You'll be angry for a bit, but then still love him to bits. You write so well Lori and that last sentence… so hauntingly sad but beautiful.
- February 9, 2011 at 9:43 pm
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"he's such a spunk." Love it.
I hope and pray that you do believe that this is Tony's way of showing you that he is still loving you.
"Ra Ra" from your newest chearleader, Sylv. (but you can call me number 870)
- February 9, 2011 at 9:38 pm
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So beautiful it hurts….
♥♥♥ - February 9, 2011 at 9:15 pm
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I've been reading your blog since Tony was in hospital. I feel as if I know you. Thankyou so much for continuing to blog through your journey of grief.
Tony sounds like an awesome man, huband and father.
- February 9, 2011 at 9:13 pm
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Thank you for sharing that post about Tony, it was lovely to read about the man that he was. It was beautiful.
- February 9, 2011 at 9:08 pm
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Such beautiful memories for you to share with us, thank you. I hope your days are gradually getting more bearable.
- February 9, 2011 at 9:07 pm
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Lovely post.
- February 9, 2011 at 9:07 pm
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Sending you and your little ones love Lori. I wish I could help you somehow. x Manda
- February 9, 2011 at 8:58 pm
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I've just caught up with your last 4 posts and have to say, the one from Sunday 6th, made me cry. Your closest friends don't answer their phones? They aren't there for you? Even after they offered? Do they understand that you don't need them 24/7, just now and again, a cup of coffee, a good cry, a hug? Now I wish I lived much closer. My life is not so busy that I couldn't visit a couple of times a week.
- February 9, 2011 at 8:54 pm
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Oh Lori, how much of everything you must be drowning in it all…
I'm sorry I make little sense today.
Still here though.
Still every day sending you and your two little ones all the good I can.
Still dropping by and checking in
Becasue its all I can do right now. - February 9, 2011 at 8:48 pm
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Lori, a beautiful post about Tony. x
- February 9, 2011 at 8:44 pm
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Such a powerful and heart-felt post. *big hugs to you Lori*
- February 9, 2011 at 8:42 pm
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Oh Lori, I am so sorry for you and your children's loss. No words will ever do justice to your love, but you are doing a damn fine job of writing. I share your message with anyone who will listen and I think about you every day. My heart is with you.
- February 9, 2011 at 8:38 pm
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I never know what to say Lori. Your posts, they pull at me. They drag me in and i just read them over and over nd i want you to know how much i truely truely wish i could change this for you. It's just not right.
- February 9, 2011 at 8:18 pm
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Beautiful deep thoughts that are taking me closer to my own husband than I have felt in a long time. It feels selfish. All my love and thoughts still with you xxx
- February 9, 2011 at 8:15 pm
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Oh, what a champion. No wonder you love him so, no wonder your heart is broken. I'm so sorry for your pain Lori.
Sarah xxx
- February 9, 2011 at 8:15 pm
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Wow. That's just haunting. Achingly beautiful. Love love love to you Lori. You are never far from my thoughts. XOXO
- February 9, 2011 at 8:13 pm
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That's so heartbreakingly beautiful, Lori. Tony is was a good man. And he loved you so much. So much.xxxx
- February 9, 2011 at 8:11 pm
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This, Lori, this writing is your therapy. xx
- February 9, 2011 at 7:40 pm
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Oh Lori, that was beautiful. You're in my thoughts every day.
- February 9, 2011 at 7:35 pm
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Oh honey, what a gorgeous post. He sounds like he truly loved you. xx
- February 9, 2011 at 7:33 pm
- February 9, 2011 at 11:32 pm
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I wish I had something really deep and thought provoking to share here, but I don't. Keep sharing though Lori, keep sharing baby x
- February 9, 2011 at 9:02 pm
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He sounds amazing.
You are amazing too.
Big hugs coming your way Lori xo - February 9, 2011 at 8:49 pm
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I am sad I never met him. But I saw pictures and yes…… He was a big bloody spunk. And he deserved you my friend. But perhaps for longer. Wonderful writing my darling…… Simply breathtaking x
- February 9, 2011 at 7:35 pm
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"The space in between". That just tore my heart open.
Previous post: What Do You Call A Post Like This?
Next post: Fifteen
Random Ramblings of a SAHM: So… now what?
Ouch. – RRSAHM
Ouch.
I think being a parent involves having your heart tweaked and fractured every so often. It’s impossible to protect yourself from your children’s hurts. Your own coping strategies are less effective when it’s someone else’s pain.
My daughter attends her first day at daycare yesterday, and when I pick her up there is something not quite right about her; something off about my sunny, bubbly girl.
The reason was as basic and simple as it comes. She’s toilet training, she had an accident at school. The other little girls wouldn’t play with her.
Oh. Ouch. Ouch.
She misses her old school, she tells me, and her friends that were there.
Ouch, ouch, ouch.
***
My son is, if nothing else, a coper. He’s stoic and strong and he rarely shows it when he’s sad. I witness his pain in tiny slips of his innocent tongue- the things he says without realising he’s saying anything at all.
Playing with his sister, doubled together on a ride-on bike, they’re discussing imaginary destinations.
“I want to go to Heaven“ says my boy. “With God. And Dad.”
He thinks nothing of it. Both my children continue on with their game.
Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch.
***
At the moment, it’s all exasperated by that general overwhelming feeling of sadness. I miss my mum. It’s a hollow ache every time I think about it.
If I’m missing her so, I can only imagine how much my kids must be missing their Nonna. How much she must be missing them. We talk on the phone, and I hold back tears, seeing how happy my little ones are just to hear her voice.
Ouch. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch.
Leave a Comment
{ 71 comments… read them below or add one }
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September 17, 2013 at 6:03 pm -
I haven’t been around the Blogosphere, Lori, so I had no idea this was all happening. I’m glad that you’re settling, but of course it takes time. If, in a parallel universe, Tony was alive and the two of you decided to move to Melbourne as a family, the kids would struggle for a little while there too.
But families move. They grow. They change. And the adjust. It’s not all neat and tidy pieces. But it is what it is. Life going on. <3 <3 <3 <3
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September 5, 2013 at 5:20 pm -
Keep doin wot ur doin Lori.u n ur kids r beautiful!!!!xx
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September 3, 2013 at 2:27 pm -
Just clicked through to this one from your most recent post. Wow. Some people really are interesting, aren’t they?!
I hope the positive responses and passionate defences below buoyed you far more than the negativity got you down. And just in case, here’s some more positivity: YOUR KIDS ARE LUCKY TO HAVE YOU. And what is more, they probably know it too.
And now that we’re locals, feel free to drop me an email if you want to catch up with someone who speaks blog. x
Emily recently posted…Tiredness vs exhaustion -
September 2, 2013 at 9:10 pm -
Sending you MUCH LOVE across the miles/kms!! If I had a penny for every for every time someone told me how I “should” feel, I’d be a millionaire (and insane!!) Listen to your heart, as you already have so honorably and well…
Hugs from Ohioooooooo!
Valerie - September 2, 2013 at 8:39 pm
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There are opinions, and there is condescension. Perhaps Ruby is a martyr for her children. That’s not parenting Ruby, that’s submission. To suggest you would *never* uproot your children from what they know is a crock. I’m sure you would, given good enough reason. But I guess for now, you are pious. So perhaps you could pious off and rant at the Baptists or something.
Griff recently posted…The Garden Is Healthy- September 24, 2013 at 8:11 pm
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Thanks for the laugh Griff…! ;)))
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September 2, 2013 at 7:34 pm -
Seventeen years ago – almost eighteen, actually – I moved to Sydney from Perth for ‘a few years’. Yup. Still here.
I live with a daily dose of guilt that I’m far away from my parents – robbing them of (yet another) daughter and that my kids don’t get to hang out with their grandparents/uncles/aunties/cousins on a regular basis.
You will have days where you’ll feel guilty and sad for moving away (sorry – just finding out now – I’ve been a bit busy and absent from the blogging world!). But if you’re happy and the move has made you happy, I’m sure your Mum will be nothing but happy for you, and eventually, your kids will adjust. They will. No question. I always remember my Mum saying, when she first visited Sydney, “I’ve never seen you this happy. Sydney suits you.” I know she understands that this is where I’m meant to be.
And I’m still a BIG believer that a happy mum makes a happy child/children.
xox
PS – Love, love, LOVE your blog look these days, hon. AWESOME!
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September 2, 2013 at 4:44 pm -
Hi Lori,
Ouch indeed. But, you will all grow through this experience. Of course, it is going to be an adjustment and painful, growing always is. But you will get through this, and your family will be okay.
And, I don’t think it is selfish to be sharing your thoughts, nor was the move.
Much love,
Trisha
Trisha recently posted…Living with Depression: Some of my coping tips
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September 2, 2013 at 4:17 pm -
Oh for fucks sake I get so sick and tired of people who can’t handle truth.
I love what one of your peeps said below, Lori ….. about LOVING to have their families history written down in such a way. I would too! I would LOVE it.
I just sat with my brother yesterday for four hours straight. Talking about everything – all our mental health shit, the suicide of his father. I sat there telling him details about the day of the suicide – really full-on details, and some petty ones that nobody has ever told him. He NEEDS to know this. He sat there lapping it up. And he is almost 33 years old.
I think people may have forgotten that you were HOLDING the Bump, on That Day. That Chop was inside (thankfully!). That your children will be a part of what happened, forever.
I cannot imagine having to deal with what you have had to deal with, Lori. It must be So. Fucking. Hard. And you come back to here, your space, time and time again, and document it. Good for you. It helps – god knows I know it helps. Wishing your new little blended family EVERY love and success.
I would move to Melbourne in a flash.
XXXXXXX eden
edenland recently posted…Street Talk: The Average Mental Health Patient. -
September 2, 2013 at 2:37 pm -
Wow, I don’t visit for ages and the gremlins invade!
It takes time hun. They’ll adjust, and they will find all the things they love, and the friends that will be their buds forever – in kid terms
My lot have had three big moves in their lives, it took us all a bit of time to adjust to it, but we did. And they are as happy as pigs in mud since finding their ‘best buds foreva’
And since realising they have been more places, and done more than other kids they know.Things can only get better
… Oh frick me, now I have that dumb song in my head!Big love Lori xx
MC xxx
Miss Cinders recently posted…if only you knew -
September 2, 2013 at 2:22 pm -
All I can say is, remember why you made the move, the kids will settle, get into a new routine, and life will be good (hopefully) and eventually boring (unfortunately). I’m in Melbourne too, whereabouts are you? Vaguely, of course, North, South, East, West? I’m in the Eastern suburbs.
Try not to read the negative comments. XXXX -
September 2, 2013 at 2:20 pm -
It’s a proven fact – moving is one of the top 3 most stressful things a person can experience – next to death…and shit Lori…you’ve gone through all of that.
Ignore those that judge – haters, people expressing their own opinion, whatever. They’re not going through what you’re going through.
For those who are “expressing their own opinion” – just give her love and support rather than judgement. Really, is it THAT hard to do???
Just keep going, Lori. Head up. Back straight. Wipe the tears. Just keep going. xxx -
September 2, 2013 at 2:09 pm -
Lori, everything will be fine. I love reading your observations and anecdotes, the crunchy and the smooth. I don’t know anyone who doesn’t miss someone who is in “heaven”, at least kids are honest about it. Hugs to you, I know Melbournia will be wonderful for all of you, and those Tiger flights will be happening soon enough for visits to and from Grandma x ps I felt like my lad was toilet training for about 17 years but within a few months everything was under his control – Bump will have it sorted soon and a whole group of new little friends, in fact it’s probably happened already!!
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September 2, 2013 at 2:00 pm -
Lori, I am so proud of you for having the strength to get to where you are today. All these feelings are normal and it will take time for you and the kids to settle. I know every decision you have made over the last few years has been in the best interests of your kids. You are awesome… Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise xx
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September 2, 2013 at 1:51 pm -
Lemme just say do NOT judge Lori as you have NOT walked in her shoes. There is a story behind every person. There’s a reason they’re the way they are. Think about this before you judge someone. Judging a person does not define who they are. It defines who you are!
Lori I relocated with my only child then 7 (now 20) from Melbourne to Brisbane to be with my soul mate. How you are feeling at this time is normal sweetheart. Do not numb yourself down for the peanut gallery (who may or may not have been as lucky in love)
PS – 13 years later my blended family in Brissy is rock solid and all kinds of awesome
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September 2, 2013 at 1:45 pm -
Truthfully? You really want to sit and judge?
Private diary? Yup. Good one. From someone that has read this blog?
Clear, factual conversation?
With Chop? There is nothing but facts with Chop.
Bump is magic in a tutu. If YOU don’t know these kids…consider yourselves completely out of depth to comment on how they are parented behind closed blog doors.
Lori allowed you to see her hurt. Selfish is not even registering what the consequences are of your actions. Think we can clearly see that she has thought about it before the move and after.
Express yourself. Drop the accusing and go for it.
It’s not unwelcome. Being pompous is.
Until you know the pain of her life, you don’t know what you would or wouldn’t do. Just like any other situation in life. -
September 2, 2013 at 1:32 pm -
Chin up, forget all these horrible, hateful, nasty comments and know that you have done the right thing. Welcome to melbourne! Enjoy this new adventure and chapter of your family’s life and don’t let any doubts or horrible, judgemental people get the better of you.
I think you are amazing. Some people don’t find happiness ever, you are taking it with both hands! I really respect that and you should be so proud of your self and your ongoing bravery! Just bcoz you sometimes doubt yourself or you think via a blog, does not mean you are not brave!!! -
September 2, 2013 at 1:26 pm -
It will get better. I know, because I did it. I moved straight across the country, over 3000 kms from everything myself and my kids knew. They were younger, just 1 and 3. It worked. I hated it for the first 18 months, even though it was my choice to move. I couldn’t imagine existing without my family by my side, but I did. Almost four years later and we’re as happy as can be, and I love it here.
You’ll get through this, it’s just another speed bump. And everything you feel is very valid!
And, fuck anyone who thinks they have the right to judge you.
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September 2, 2013 at 1:21 pm -
It’s a very difficult thing to move from everything you and the kidlets know and love Lori. Yes the kids will have moments of sadness and confusion but they will now have some new and amazing adventures to balance it all out.
The silver lining is that when they, and you, do get time with Nonna down the track, whether it be here or there, they will get quality time and a more meaningful one at that. They won’t ever take it for granted and those precious moments will stick with them even longer than the more frequent everyday ones that have been the norm.I’m so sorry that I didn’t come and wish you farewell but I have a hell of a plate full at the moment. Snuggles for Floyd and hugs to you all!
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September 2, 2013 at 1:20 pm -
You were so very brave to up sticks and move interstate. It has been a huge move for you all. The good thing is the children are young enough to cope with the change. Sometimes you have to put yourself first.
Does your mum have a computer? If so, why not set up Skype and do video calls.
Have mum come down when ever she can to stay. I wish I could do that with my daughter and my grand children but they live in Belgium.
I wish you all the very best for the future. You. Can. Do. It.
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September 2, 2013 at 1:06 pm -
Awww…lori. it takes time to adjust. Kids are far stronger than we give them credit…and yours are incredibly strong
I have read ur blog a very long time, well, since “before”…and I am so so happy for you! How wonderful it will be for you and “the most amazing man” to someday look back at this time in your life and KNOW that this was a trying, difficult, yet amazing, turning point in your relationship. And when your children are old enough to understand, they will be proud that you followed your happiness! - September 2, 2013 at 8:58 am
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As a society we have a problem with people truly expressing emotions, good or bad. Lori your journey is amazing and your kids sound like wonderful human beings. I am glad you made the move for love as we all deserve it. Of course you will miss your Mum as would your kids but that is natural and you would miss her even if you just moved suburbs. Things in time will get easier and the kids will be happy as they are with you. Adjustments a bitch though! Stay strong.
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August 31, 2013 at 11:56 pm -
I’ve been reading your blog for a while and am so relieved to learn that healing can happen and there can be hope for the future. I appreciate that your writing is so real, your feelings are authentic, and you are not afraid to put it all out there. There are thousands, maybe millions of blogs full of sugar-coated bits of life, but yours is more what we all actually live. Your writing helps many of us remember that life isn’t all posed photos with matching outfits and perfect dinners and spotless houses, and we shouldn’t expect that of ourselves or others. While I wish you hadn’t had to endure all of the heartache of the past few years, I am glad you chose to realistically document it and share it with everyone who chooses to read it. I chose to keep coming back and am so happy for you that you are ready to open yourself up to this new adventure in your life. I live halfway around the world from you and only know you from your blog, but I suspect you and your kids will be just fine. xo
- August 31, 2013 at 10:53 pm
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I feel very sorry for the people who are so narrow minded and pathetic that they cannot appreciate your blog and your writing for what it is, a glorious and raw account of your world. I don’t really understand how being attuned to your children’s emotional states and feeling their pain physically is ‘whinging’…I think it makes you a better parent than the obviously one dimensional haters who feel the need to tear you down…hope to run into you in Melbourne xox
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August 31, 2013 at 9:07 pm -
Lori – please ignore the shit comments from small minded people who seem to enjoy saying hurtful things. You are a wonderful Mum. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and your kids’ thoughts about the move. May the days ahead get better and better.
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August 31, 2013 at 8:56 pm -
Put on those red shoes Lori….kick those heels up to the haters and enjoy your new life.
Everything will work out hon.
Much love.Xx -
August 31, 2013 at 8:31 pm -
Dear Lori,
Please don’t for one minute think that you are not courageous just because you are afraid. Please do not minimize your power just because you are feeling a little lost. Please do not believe that you are not on the right track just because you are in a bit of a slump….and most of all, please do not EVER think that you are the only one who has hard days, rotten days, weak days and even days when you feel like you have messed up everything, gone backwards or that all is lost. Even your greatest heroes and role models have days just like you have.
These feelings will pass. If all you can do is HOPE that these feelings will pass, it will be enough. Never lose hope. You made it to now, and you will make it to tomorrow. The clouds will blow over, the sunshine will come again and you will have learned a few new lessons along the way. BEING BRAVE does not mean that you do not sometimes feel scared, weak and lost….it just means you keep going anyway…..and that is what you do best.You can do this, friend…you really can. Keep going……..don’t stop now!
You are so loved.
xoxo -
August 31, 2013 at 6:45 pm -
All I can think of is what your children will go through when they read about all THEIR emotional vulnerability THEIR mother has shared with the world. Perhaps a private diary wld be a good idea? The poster who used the word selfish to describe you earlier is spot on. Put yourself in their place in ten years time… Or are you not capable of that kind of empathy. The only person who benefits from this outpouring of melodrama is you. I agree with Ruby.
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August 31, 2013 at 7:38 pm -
August 31, 2013 at 9:52 pm -
So you think it’s a good idea to teach children that feelings aren’t to be expressed? That emotions are taboo? That’s exactly the cause of so many problems faced in our society. It’s healthy for them to see someone actually openly expressing their feelings, especially as a way to overcome problems.
Not to mention that, taking myself back to my teenage years, I can’t imagine having any desire to even read a blog written by my mother. How bloody boring. They’d be more likely to read it once they’re mature enough to see it as an absolutely priceless family history. I’d kill to have my families story written down with so much raw emotion. Of course it’s possible that they will see it and won’t like it, but it’s hardly going to ruin their lives. In a family where the lines of communication are open, there’s no reason why the outcomes can’t be positive. Get over yourself.
- September 2, 2013 at 10:03 pm
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Yes! Most certainly !! Cause lets all sweep suicide and mental health completely under the fucking carpet and ignore it…. while we’re at it, lets sweep sex abuse and domestic violence there too… let it be our dirty little secret … and lets make our kids fucking suppress their feelings and the things they’ve seen and the things they’re scared of … cause that won’t fuck them up and put them in counselling at all… will it…. seriously… get a fucking clue
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August 31, 2013 at 3:18 pm -
Oh honey, I’m so sorry, I know the feeling is just shit. Moving to a new place can be really tough at first – at the end of the day, if they are with you, the mother that adores them, then they’ll be OK. Hit me up for a coffee soon, please! Welcome you to Melbourne with some serious coffee OD! (I think you are just down the road from me!) Kx
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August 31, 2013 at 3:07 pm -
The great thing about kids? They are often so much more resilient than we give them credit for. It is completely normal for a boy to want to be with his father, a father who he loved, and who loved him. He doesn’t understand the meaning behind it quite like we as adults do, he just wants to see his dad. I hope that you all begin to settle in soon and the ouch moments begin to fade. You are doing awesome, don’t let arseholes get inside you head. Sending you love xx
Tegan recently posted…Keeping Safe -
August 31, 2013 at 1:09 pm -
How dare you people pick on Lori. Anyone that has moved hours away from their family would feel this way. I have after moving four hours away from all my loved ones. If you had been following this blog for the last three years you would know how far Lori has come in that time. She is doing a great job. How dare you pick on her parenting because her son misses his dad. He knows his fathee is wiyh god and that his dad cant come back from there so obviously the only way to see his dad would be in heaven. You obviously don’t have children or you would know the types of things children say. Pull your heads in.
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August 31, 2013 at 9:04 am -
Ouch indeed. There’s nothing quite as painful as your own child’s hurt. Please don’t let some of these comments put you off of blogging about how you feel, you write so beautifully. Not that you’re asking for advice but maybe allow yourself to be sad whilst also going out and doing the things that made you want to move to this city. Thinking of you.
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August 31, 2013 at 4:27 am -
I’m sure it will get better, I know it will with time. You will make friends, your kids will make friends, they’ll find teachers they love (and probably some they hate, but hopefully not to many of those), and it will all get better. I know there’s a loss in moving, heck there’s a loss in finishing a bowl of ice cream, but you have to look forward to the new good things as well. I’ll keep praying that you’ll all find the right people, places, things to make this new house feel like home.
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August 31, 2013 at 12:12 am -
I am glad you are posting through the transition. It must be hard to hit publish when you know that there are some out there just waiting to pull your words apart. I thought they would be tired by now – their message certainly is tired. Keep on going for yourself and for those for whom your story resonates.
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August 30, 2013 at 11:03 pm -
Seriously. I have major doubts about your parenting. Sorry, I do hope all this works out for you all and desperately do hope he is the most amazing man in the…whatever, can’t remember but I really hope so. What are YOU saying to these children to have a young boy think he wants to go to heaven to be with god and/or his Dad. Please please start talking in clear, simple, factual ways to your beloved children. Choose to love what YOU chose to do. I wish you all the very best, try and embrace it.
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August 31, 2013 at 11:50 am -
Love your comment! And I agree totally with you. Having said I do wish Chop, Bump and their mother all the best!
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August 31, 2013 at 3:55 pm -
“What are YOU saying to these children to have a young boy think he wants to go to heaven to be with god and/or his Dad.”
Yes, because obviously Lori is telling her kids that they should want to die, right? The comment couldn’t be because a small child doesn’t fully understand that Heaven isn’t somewhere you go temporarily. And even if he does, he couldn’t *possibly* be talking about a hypothetical visit to someone he absolutely loves with his entire being.
For goodness’ sake, I’m 27 and wish I could go “visit” my lived ones in the afterlife. I’m agnostic so not even sure there IS an afterlife but I still want to see my son again, tell my grandparents I love them… I have major doubts about your ability to be compassionate. Seriously. Go away and turn your hateful comments on someone who deserves it.
- August 31, 2013 at 9:03 pm
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Even though we read Lori’s blog it doesn’t mean we are not allowed to comment we choose. I for one have been reading Lori’s blog for a couple of years now and never felt to comment until now.
- August 31, 2013 at 9:58 pm
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You’re very much entitled to comment. What I can’t comprehend is how you don’t have anything better to do with your time than read blogs written by people you don’t like, and write long messages filled with vile negativity. It must be fucking horrible to be you.
- September 1, 2013 at 2:31 am
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Areta do you know me? Ummm….no! It’s quite good to be me! And I would never do this to my kids, never ever!
- September 1, 2013 at 8:46 am
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Explain to me how this is your idea of a good time then? You’re pathetic. What exactly has she “done to her kids”? Seriously, get a life.
- September 1, 2013 at 9:25 am
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Oh Areta darling its quite funny how people like you get so het up about comments made on other people’s blogs. I would never of taken my kids from everything they know and love to a place where they are thousands of kms from those things. I would never of subjected my kids to such upheaval haven’t those two gone through enough in their short lives. Lori sorry if you class me as a hater, I am just expressing my thoughts on this post. Sorry if I have upset you in any way.
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September 1, 2013 at 10:44 pm -
Ruby, you’ve just effectively said that being with their mother is taking the kids away from everything they know and love. That’s meanspirited and nasty.
Honestly, unless you’ve actually been in the situation, how can you really know what you would do? It’s easy to sit in judgement, far more effort to empathise.
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- September 2, 2013 at 9:33 am
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Lol!Miss B you don’t know me!
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September 2, 2013 at 1:24 pm -
Wow Ruby. If you asked most kids, I think they’d say they want their parent/s to be happy. Lori and her kids moved for a new HAPPY life, which they totally deserve. I don’t know Lori, and I rarely comment, but it strikes me that it takes a pretty twisted, negative person to find something horrible in something inherently exciting and happy. You make it sound as though Lori hasn’t even considered the difficulties her kids (and, hello, she) will face by moving. Give us all a break – OF COURSE she’s considered it. And typical of her strength, she’s gone ahead and done it, and will be there for her kids as they make the transition – and I have no doubt they’ll all come out the other side happier than they’ve been in a really long time – perhaps ever.
Also, to round things off, you give yourself away as totally clueless when you say “I never would of…”. It’s “I never would HAVE…”
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- August 31, 2013 at 7:35 pm
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Yeaaaah. Jean, I think Teni’s got this one perfectly. You’re a bit of a goose.
And please, stick your well wishes up your arse.
Lori Dwyer recently posted…Ouch.-
September 2, 2013 at 7:59 pm -
Yeeeah! Will Someone please inform this Ruby person THIS IS A TROLL FREE ZONE.
I know a pit-bull named Ruby but she’s a sweet-heart: loves everyone & makes sure they know it.
Suzy Mac recently posted…When I was a superhero…
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- September 2, 2013 at 1:20 pm
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Jean and Ruby – do you have children? a husband? a partner?
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- August 30, 2013 at 8:27 pm
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Get over it! It was your choice to move!
- August 30, 2013 at 9:23 pm
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I really don’t like this note I see, from Ruby.
- August 31, 2013 at 11:46 am
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Well Mouse she did choose to move so she needs to stop complaining and get over it! Of course there will be teething problems. Only a selfish person would think her kids will be happy and settled. Sorry if I offended you with my comment.
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- August 31, 2013 at 7:36 pm
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Yup. And guess what… it’s my blog, and I’ll whinge if I wanna.
Lori Dwyer recently posted…Ouch.- August 31, 2013 at 9:08 pm
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Not very mature Lori! You really have no right to whine. You should be happy! I mean you have finally found love. After the loss of the father of your children you were looking for love you have found it! Looks like nothing will every please you and that is very sad!
- August 31, 2013 at 10:03 pm
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“You should be happy” !?!?!?!?!?
Who do you think you are telling someone they should be happy? Happiness is relative. Should we all just be happy all the time because we’re not starving and living on the street? I read this blog because I love the way Lori expresses her emotions with words. She has every right to feel each one of those emotions. If you don’t like it, fuck off.
- August 31, 2013 at 10:33 pm
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Telling someone they shouldn’t be depressed because there are people who have it worse than them is like telling someone they shouldn’t be happy because others have it better than them. In other words, completely pointless.
Tegan recently posted…My week according to Instagram - September 1, 2013 at 2:28 am
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Areta nice name btw! Again I am allowed to
post my comments on this. If Lori is depressed why did she move? Why didn’t she stay where she was and this wonderful man of hersmove up to be with her? Why knowingly move your kids from the things that mean the world to them. Especially after all that they have lost. Love how we that express different opinions are classed as haters….- September 2, 2013 at 10:07 pm
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Oh please Ruby, will you write a book on parenting? Maybe just on life in general?Cause you really seem to have it all covered. I would absolutely love to know how YOU supposedly think things *should* of been done in Lori’s situation. Are you Lori? have you been through the things that she has been through? No? Didn’t think so. So maybe you should continue to keep your comments to yourself seeing as they have actually no positive purpose what so ever. Don’t judge someone else unless you have walked a mile in their shoes. And I gurantee you haven’t, or you wouldn’t be on here sprouting such utter bullshit.
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September 3, 2013 at 12:32 pm -
Moving house is not a crime. Ruby, you’re nothing but a snide, bitter person. Leave her alone.
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September 4, 2013 at 12:35 pm -
“Why didn’t she stay where she was and this wonderful man of hers move up to be with her?”
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I did have that thought at first too. But then I realised there are so many reasons why they may have decided it was better for them, as a family, to live in Melbourne.– Lori’s boyfriend may already have a good job there, so it would make sense financially, and for job stability, for him to stay in Melbourne instead of a regional town with less employment opportunities.
– Or Lori may want to one day go to uni, or pursue a particular career. I’ve lived in many different places and have found that Melbourne has the most (and best paid) employment opportunities for my particular field of work.
– Or the schools for her children may be better in Melbourne.
I guess what I’m saying is that there are a number of reasons why they may be better off in the long run, and I imagine they weighed up all the pros and cons before reaching their decision. As someone who’s moved interstate 4 times, I’ve never made the decision lightly.
- September 5, 2013 at 12:51 pm
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Yep K, a lot of the above. I’m thinking I should probably blog about this- the reasons I’m here, rather than him coming to Sydney. xx
Lori Dwyer recently posted…Father’s Day.
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- September 2, 2013 at 8:47 pm
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Lori, you go girl! As my dear departed father was fond of saying she’s ” more to be pittied than blamed” he was a very generous man.
Lets just all feel sorry for poor Ruby being the way she is and leave it at that.Wish I was still in Melbourne- I’d scoop you up and take you to South Melbourne market for some inspired retail therapy (and coffee with fresh jam donuts)
Xo
Suzy Mac recently posted…KookaKaraoke
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- August 30, 2013 at 6:37 pm
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It will get easier babe. I promise. It doesn’t feel like it. But it will oxo
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August 30, 2013 at 6:28 pm -
Ouchie.
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This house warming post is bought to you by PhotoBox, and you can win stuff. Read on.
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The New House is about 88% unpacked. There’s still a few boxes hanging around, but we mostly know where all the things live now. It’s only occasionally that The Most Amazing Man or I ask the location of something benign (”Where’d we put the can opener?”) and stare at each other blankly, both mystified.
Truth be known, I’ve unpacked far quicker than this the last two times I’ve moved house. But both those times I was the only adult around, so deciding where things went was solely my responsibility. That made life inherently easier.
With two adults in the house, it becomes more of an exercise in compromise than a game of physical, putting-stuff-in-the-appropriate places Tetris. Between kids and work and settling in, the last little bit of unpacking The New House lingered for far longer than it should have. Boxes of linen sat piled in the kid’s playroom. Our only storage space was so cluttered with things that didn’t have a place yet that we couldn’t access our clothes to get dressed in the morning.
We managed to avoid stressing over it for the better part of a week. Until seeing the house in such a state- and feeling, for some reason, completely unable to do anything about it– left me jangled and anxious, unsettled and displaced.
Which, of course, ended in tears. My tears. With The Most Amazing Man staring at me shock, wondering what the hell was going on and how he could fix it.
Like most things, moving the gludge of unpacked linens, ornaments and other bits and pieces proved much easier than it looked. It took us only an hour or two before things began sliding into place with ease, the most difficult part of deciding where the hell to put all these towels and sheets done.
Now, all that remains are the wall hangings. I’m big on hanging pictures and paintings. Oddly enough, the previous tenants seemed to have not had access to any kind of step ladder or stool while they were hanging their pictures. All the hooks in the walls are about four feet high, an odd contrast with the ten foot ceilings. And I’m not sure how landlords feel about their tenants banging new holes, and new hooks, into their plasterboard walls. So we might have to just work with what we’ve got.
Anyway. The unpacking countdown is on. Five boxes to go.
***
Seeing as it’s my house warming post, I think one of you should get a present. Cause I’m awesome like that. Thanks to PhotoBox, I’ve got one canvas print to be won- a ‘Canvas Lite’, 30.5 cm x 20.3 cms. You get whatever image you desire printed on your canvas, and PhotoBox will ship it out to you.
To win, fill in the form below and tell me- How long does it take you to unpack, when you’ve moved house? Do you still have boxes sitting around from three years ago, or are you an ’unpack as quickly as possible’ kind of person?
The closing date is midnight AEST Wednesday 18th September 2013; and the winners will be drawn and contacted by email soon after. You gotta have a valid email address to go with your entry, mmmkay?
This one’s open to Australian residents only. The answers that tickle my pickle at the time of the comp being drawn will win. No bitching, whinging, nor compromising shall be entered into.
Happy house warming (to me)!
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{ 8 comments… read them below or add one }
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September 13, 2013 at 6:14 pm -
I’m currently trying to do unfuckyourhabitat.com because I have an entire room of stuff that I can’t get past the doorway of. Boxes and suitcases and clothes and trinkets.
I can’t seem to find the line in the middle for having stuff – I’m either a backpacker or a hoarder.
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September 13, 2013 at 5:23 pm -
3m picture hanging strips are the best invention ever. Get on it!
Toushkalee recently posted…Wordless Wednesday – Family Day Out -
September 13, 2013 at 6:58 am -
Glad your unpacked – there is a sense of relief when its done & life can begin again. I’m organised and efficient so my best unpack record is 2days. Any longer would bring me to tears too.
Katrina recently posted…Nurture: A Funky and Fresh Parenting Theme - September 12, 2013 at 8:37 am
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I get it, Lori, I really do. I would cry over unpacked linens too. I probably have.
Happy house-warming!
(I vouch for the 3M removable hooks too, they are the shit.)
Whoa, Molly! recently posted…The Nicest Thing Anyone Has Ever Said To Me: Writing Edition -
September 11, 2013 at 10:20 pm -
Indeed – happy housewarming.
Do the 10′ ceilings come with picture rails? There are special hooks you can get and, associated with fishing line, can transform a room (I get this tip from my sister, not my “innate” sense of style).
jeanie recently posted…Suckers!!! - September 11, 2013 at 10:00 pm
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3M stick on hooks. Not cheap but easily removable so great when you’re renting. We use them heaps.
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September 11, 2013 at 9:21 pm -
Forgot to say, happy house warming! You sound so light and happy lately. I’m absolutely thrilled for you. You and the kids deserve a lifetime of sunshine and happiness xxx
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September 11, 2013 at 8:59 pm -
I keep trying to enter but the form won’t submit
We’ve been here 2.5 yrs and still have boxes from 10 yrs ago! Hubby has a 6th sense for me throwing stuff out and keeps reclaiming it.
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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: What’s Inside the Crappy Xmas Present?
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The Twelve Days of the Purple House Christmas. Or Something. – RRSAHM
The Twelve Days of the Purple House Christmas. Or Something.
IfthatwasmytrueloveI’dkickhisarsebecausewhereamIsupposedtoputallthiscrapanyway*?,
In the interest of togetherness and harmony and all that good stuff, I’ve decided it’s sing-a-long day here at RRSAHM. Awesomeness.
I’ve penned the lyrics myself. It’s to be sung to tune of ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. (Kinda. If you speed up some parts and slow down a few others, and ignore all the bits in brackets. Might help if you’re slightly drunk too. OK? OK.)
And -a-one-and-a-two-and-a-one-two-three-
This Christmas in The Purple House, you can expect to see….
Twenty five Thirty one and a half metres of wrapping paper (and counting).
Six hundred drives to see the Christmas lights. (Blue lights are so fashion this year, have you noticed? Very Better Homes and Gardens, fused with Kings Cross public toilets).
Ten presents for people we don’t really give a damn about.
One present for under the KMart Wishing Tree. (Crap. Forgot again. I’ll get there next year).
A few bad cases of sunburn.
Four different houses to visit on Christmas Day.
Which means four separate meals, and four of those crappy paper party hats.
And two ooooover-tired children. (We’re up to the ‘five golden rings’ bit, yes? For those who are singing along).
One gluttonous, over-fed Man.
One cranky Lori.
Way too many toys.
And a fellatio angel** on top of a Christmas tree.
* The more I think about this song, the more it freaking annoys me. Animal cruelty and lords-a-leaping slavery, that’s what we’re dealing with here people. Good cheer be damned. Humbug.
** *Ahem*. This is the angel that tops the Christmas Tree in the Purple House. She is quite pretty. She was the first ornament I bought for my very own Christmas tree, ten years ago when I first moved out of home. And, for that reason, I’m quite attached to her. But ever since the Man asked what, exactly, she was planning on doing with that candle… well, that’s all I can think about when I look at her.
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{ 19 comments… read them below or add one }
- July 12, 2011 at 12:15 pm
- December 25, 2010 at 1:06 am
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giving you (and your lovely angel) a shout out in my post tonight, or today (as it's already xmas- merry xmas btw)…you may have noticed I don't sleep a lot – I find it helps me to leave long and rambling comments like this one, where the point is so long forgotten that everyone else has already fallen asleep. Except me, of course, because I don't sleep a lot.
Hope santa brings you everything you want
xxxCate - December 23, 2010 at 4:08 pm
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Oh, laughing so hard one of my kids came over to see what I was laughing about!! Hmmm…
Too funny – Merry Xmas Lori
xxxCate - December 23, 2010 at 4:35 am
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Lovin the fellatio angel. I just cleared out a bunch of toys yesterday while the boy was at daycare. Christmas is going to hit and we'll be back to our clutter near-hoarder status of toys! Argh.
- December 22, 2010 at 10:49 pm
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I'm with the Man – the Angel is hysterical.
- December 22, 2010 at 10:15 pm
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I always thought that song was dirty too … naughty angel! And thanks to Mrs B. the phrase 'walking round in women's underwear' is going through my head.
- December 22, 2010 at 5:11 pm
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So, like, that soooo didn't sound anything like the 12 days of Christmas, but just one look at that angel and all is forgiven!!! Haahaahahahaha! x
- December 22, 2010 at 4:09 pm
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PMSL see, I would have been the same, all innocent with the angel too. But now you've said that, it does look like she is about to do something else
My Dad ruined Winter Wonderland for me the other day. It was on the radio in the car and he sings 'walking round in women's underwear'. Yes, he just ruined that song for me *sighs*. Its a male thing right?
- December 22, 2010 at 2:07 pm
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The look on that angel's face is precious! Whatever possesed you to buy that?
What I'm hoping to see at my house is my two boys playing quietly together while I watch teh repeat of Carols by Candlelight on the telly. Even better, they might be plaing outside! Oh, and wine and/or beer may or may not be involved…
Merry Christmas!
- December 22, 2010 at 10:49 am
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Bahahahahaha – awesome
I feel your pain regarding the wrapping paper. Next year I am so lugging all my crap to the local shopping centre, giving the nursing home fundraiser gift wrap people $200 and telling them to get wrapping!! - December 22, 2010 at 10:18 am
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Ahhh the famous tree topper, Love it x
- December 22, 2010 at 7:35 am
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Fellatio angel.
Two words i never expected to see side by side but, once again, you've shocked and suprised me Lori. Oh, and made my day – fellatio angle? Ha!
- December 22, 2010 at 3:18 pm
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Yaaayyyy Christmas light time in Mount Annan, (Now that we have moved out) I feel it is HIGH TIME to get my drink on, lug all my children and relatives around in my car with all the windows open, yell out merry christmas at the top of my lungs and encourage at LEAST 3 obnoxious children in the back seat to do the same, I am going to follow a tour bus up a one way street spend the next hour sitting still in the street with my reverse lights on wondering how in hell we are going to get out of this mess. After i have added to the congestion on the roads and realised that there is no more room to drive a car or even say an ambulance if there was an emergency, I am going to park my car up on someone's lawn pile out and wander round talking at the top of my lungs and wake up all the sleeping babies in the area, i will then throw my empty bourbon, rum, beer cans out on the lawn of the person where my car is parked, reaise it is now 11pm and take my crew home…. Ugh The Cascades I hate you still and don't miss you at all!!!!! BAAAAAARRRRHHHHUMBUG!
- December 22, 2010 at 2:57 pm
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BAHAHAHAHA fellatio angel, now I've seen it all!
Speaking of the Christmas lights, we are heading over to the Cascades tomorrow night for our 3rd visit *shudder*
- December 22, 2010 at 2:08 am
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ha ha ha re the fellatio angel…I also did a carol about Gifts for New Mums are Full of Folly
Merry Christmas to you and Mrs Winterpepper – I think she deserves a bottle of extra-sweet sherry - December 22, 2010 at 1:01 am
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Bwhahahah…wait…breathe…hahahaah
That angel is awesome. In our home we celebrate Father Christmas, also known as Santa. He sits on the top of our tree.
I wrapped a bunch of presents yesterday and most were for people that we don't normally talk to but since they get us a gift, we have to get them one. I'm all about giving but when do you draw the line you know?
Maybe if I buy them an angel like yours they'll stop. - December 21, 2010 at 11:17 pm
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Wish my Angel was so talented
- December 21, 2010 at 9:37 pm
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There's always a bit of a giggle here at Lori's place. And yes, while I sang out loud, I laughed out loud at your fellatio angel. Yes, I don't think I'd look at her the same again either. Merry merries Lori. xx
- December 22, 2010 at 3:08 am
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Oh, my! The little one with the polka dot antlers is just way too cute!
Previous post: The view from here on religion.
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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: The Crappest GiveAway Ever (really, this time)
Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Jeans and Stuff.
Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Sunday, Just Me.
FlogYoBlog and Feel'EmUp. – RRSAHM
FlogYoBlog and Feel’EmUp.
Hooray for boobies!!
Let’s just call it double entendre Friday, shall we? Yes, I think we shall.
As per the usual Friday fabulousness, it is FlogYoBlog Friday, where we all link up, click around and share the blog floggy love. If you are a flogging virgin, check out all the gritty details here. Please don’t be afraid. I promise we will be gentle. Most of us, anyway.
Now, for the bit about boobies. Those of you on Twitter may have noticed a whole lot of pink in your stream the last few days. Lots of lovely ladies- and at least one rocking dude– have changed their avatars piccies to either a rose-colored view, or ‘pinked their bits’, so to speak. It’s for a very good cause. And it’s called #feelemupFriday.
I stole the ribbon from TopNews. I’m sure they won’t mind.
It’s the brainbaby of Carol Duncan, and you can check out Seraphim’s post on it here (and her awareness linky list here!).
The pink avatars are simply a way to remind you to do a self breast examination. Today. Tonight. In the shower. At your next available opportunity. Please. Chances are you’ll find nothing. If you do find something, chances are it will be nothing. But early detection is the best weapon we have against breast cancer.
My grandmother has been in remission from breast cancer now for 15 years. This is a cause close to my heart. And my boobies. As the case may be.
So, get your flog on. And after you’ve done that, feel yourself up. Awesomeness!
The New Rules (which are kinda almost pretty much the same as the Old Rules)
- Follow my blog. (*ahem* *cough* My Blog. Me me me. Me me. You get the picture.)
- Grab B’s bubbly button and post it on your sidebar.
- Link your First Name and/or Blog Name and URL of your linked post (not your homepage) below.
- Add a short description (max of 125 chars). It could be a description of yourself, your blog or a teaser to your latest post.
- Follow at least 1 linkyer/blogger (Be nice and spread the love).
- The list will be open for linkyers on Fridays (and for the foreigners Friday as well).
- A new and fresh link list will open every Friday. And you will have to link up AGAIN. The previous link list does not carry over to the following week.
- And lastly, have lotsa fun. I mean it. If I detect anyone not totally loving the awesomeness, I will bump you off the linky list. (Joking) (Kinda).
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{ 12 comments… read them below or add one }
- September 5, 2010 at 10:37 am
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I make my OB check it every year when I go for my PAP, too. Just to double check
Thanks for linking up at Home Grown Families Friday Blog Hop! We're following you now!
Tiffany - September 4, 2010 at 9:52 pm
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Sorry about the bad language in FlogYerBlog…I guess not everyone likes the F words as much as I do.
Apologies!!!
- September 4, 2010 at 6:42 am
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Great post and reminder for all women!
- September 4, 2010 at 12:26 am
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What a great reminder. Will feel em up today for sure!
- September 3, 2010 at 10:07 pm
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Breasts are great – look after them
- September 3, 2010 at 7:58 pm
- September 3, 2010 at 6:59 pm
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.•..¸.•*¨Hopping in From Friday Blog Hops! Im your newest follower¨¸.•..¸.•*¨ I hope you can hop over and visit soon!¸.•..¸.•*¨Reviews &Giveaways; by TheChickenista and TheChickenista
¸.•..¸.•*¨Off to the next great blog!¸.•..¸.•*¨Happy Friday!
Peace, Love and Much Respect! (✿◠‿◠)~Veronica
- September 3, 2010 at 4:55 pm
- September 3, 2010 at 10:32 am
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Happy flog your boobies day. FYBY always catches me off guard. Maybe because it's Thursday here.
- September 3, 2010 at 9:38 am
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I never miss an opportunity to cop a feel. Thanks for the reminder!
- September 3, 2010 at 7:14 am
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It's a fantastic thing to do. Even if it prompts just one person to feel, find and get it checked, it's helped.
Your Grandma sounds like a champion x
- September 3, 2010 at 1:15 pm
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Love this hop…I came by to participate. I'm new to Twitter, but I definitely will contribute to feelemupfriday.
I felt up mine just this morning.
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Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Giant.
32. – RRSAHM
32.
It’s my birthday today.
I am thirty two years old. I roll the years around like cold marbles in my mouth, spit them out and string them.
I feel so old.
I’m scared of everything. I am raw and vulnerable, calloused and hardened.
I’ll take today for what it is. For now, I’ll just… be.
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
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November 6, 2013 at 9:22 am -
I don’t think you have to be all that into birthdays. Mine just passed too. Despite my family trying to make it nice, I was just in a shit mood. It is just a day like any other in the end.
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November 3, 2013 at 12:03 am -
Happy Birthday!!
- November 2, 2013 at 6:20 am
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Happy Birthday! You are wise beyond your years! Hang in there, things will get better for you!
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November 1, 2013 at 8:50 pm -
Comment
- November 1, 2013 at 7:11 pm
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November 1, 2013 at 3:45 pm -
Happy Birthday gorgeous, hope you have an awesome day anyhow. xxx
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November 1, 2013 at 1:48 pm -
Happy Birthday, and the sun is shinning too. Have a great day.
Previous post: Back To Black.
Next post: Swimming With Sharks.
Random Ramblings of a SAHM: Not OK.
The Grief of a Child. – RRSAHM
The Grief of a Child.
My child, just like me, he’s grieving. Mourning, for his father, his idol, his best friend.
It’s difficult. For both of us.
I think about how much time I spend thinking, reliving, writing, processing… and I’m an adult. I imagine how much the same it must be for my little boy, at three years old… and I almost sob. Without the framework and resources I have, this child is adrift.
The very best i have got for him is love, and as much patience as I can muster.
He’s regressed in age, in so many respects. His attachment to his dummy has returned three fold, toilet training has gone out the window.
And it’s very much like twins, with my eighteen month old as his companion. His temper tantrums, always legendary, are now explosive and volcanic. He is anxious, stress about the tiniest things.
And the best I can do is love him, and give him words… words to replace the tantrums. Words to express, in some way that I can try to understand, what he is feeling and when.
Words like ‘sad’. ‘Angry’. ‘I miss Daddy’.
A lot of the time, my good natured, passive, day dreaming little boy is, I think, at as much peace as he can be, when his heartache is so fresh. He tells me, often that daddy is in heaven up with the stars, higher than the clouds, higher than the plane. Toohigh for us to go and get him, to high for him to come back.
And he tells me in heaven, Daddy has a purple house and an orange car and a copyof the PlaySchool Dinosaurs DVD, which my little man now refuses to watch. Because Daddy loved all of those things.
And other times, he is a ball of pain and rage and tears and fear. He tells me, alternatively, that he misses his daddy and wants him back, or tha he doesn’t want his daddy, doesn’t like his daddy.
Either way, it breaks my heart.
But I do my best to be patient, and wrap my child in cuddles and smother him with kisses. because I understand. I want to howl and cry and scream, most days. Most day, it is only the structure of social normality that sees me resisting the urge to play out my anxiety in public, and scream at people to shut that door, or stop looking at me, the way my baby boy does.
It’s difficult, and it takes every ounce of my patience and strength, especially living here, so far away anyone who will babysit… some days, I feel like my brain is shrinking and corroding to a soundtrack of PlaySchool and the Wiggles.
But I think they deserve it, my children,both of them. They deserve their mum, as much as possible,in a place where it’s beautiful and peaceful. And they deserve her to be peaceful, and patient, as much as she can be.
And how can I not be…? When I know just how they feel?
***
We are driving down a mountain, on the way back from the suburbs to Paradise, and I am going just over the speed limit.
“Mummy,” says my son from the back seat, “Daddy says slow down.”
And I do, of course… wouldn’t you?
And I round the next bend, and there’s a truck, and a car on the other side next to it, moving as slow as a turtle.
I just don’t know what to make of that.
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{ 50 comments… read them below or add one }
- May 11, 2011 at 10:05 pm
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For some reason Lori I just clicked on this post by accident and I'm glad I did. None of us can ever appreciate what you and your littlies are going through.
For what it's worth you're doing a great job.
Keep the thoughts coming.
Keep writing them.
Your honesty, whilst I'm sure is unsettling for many, must be such good therapy for you. Cathartic. Reassuring for you and for us as we stand idly by.As for the car thing – kids are intuitive. I'm sure they 'know' more than we do at times. Your babes are lucky to have you as you are to have them.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts. Sending love to you and your little ones from a stranger and a friend. Jacqui xx - May 5, 2011 at 1:07 pm
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I am just lost for words, I have been reading and following for a while but until this one not known what to post. I still really don't know, except to say I think you are doing an amazing job. The lives of your children and all of those in paradise are better for it.(they may not know it or think it but they are) Thankyou for sharing your often frank and straight up thoughts, don't go changing that. As much as it is an outlet for you, so it is for many of us who read and follow you. My Sisters saying after loosing her son in an MVA…"It's just Fucked!" And isn't that just so true? Love to You, Chop and Bump xxx
- April 21, 2011 at 9:41 pm
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Through tears, all I can think to write is: you are so very fortunate to have each other. Wishing you beauty and peace. xx
- April 20, 2011 at 12:40 pm
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Oh that gives me goosebumps and a lump in my throat. he has a special connection, and always will, to his daddy. And you, brave & wondrous you, are doing an AMAZING job. I cannot bear to think how agonisingly hard it is, wishing you so much peace x
- April 20, 2011 at 10:07 am
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Shivers down my spine at the last bit. Your poor little man. My thoughts and prayers are with you always even if I hardly comment.
- April 19, 2011 at 9:39 pm
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I have no idea whether or not this has been answered previously, but is your son in any kind of counseling? It may sound crazy with him being so young, but my son was in counseling at around that age to deal with his memories and experiences regarding domestic violence. I thought it was such a ridiculous suggestion at the time, but it gave him the words he needed to deal with things and also, I think, I of validated his anger in a way that me telling him it was okay just couldn't.
- April 19, 2011 at 6:27 am
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It sounds like you are doing well and helping him deal with his emotions very well too. Try to take advantage of any child related services available in your area, any thing at all may help to ease the burden on you. My dad came to visit me and I have no doubt at all that Chop's dad won't be doing the same for him too. It happens. xxx
- April 19, 2011 at 2:56 am
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You had an angel watching over you for sure! WOW! After having many 'coincidences' having happened to me since I lost my mum, sister and daughter, I believe there is no such thing as a coincidence!
Thanks for sharing, gave me goosebumps!
love
Diana x - April 18, 2011 at 8:36 pm
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Oh I have the chills. What an amazing moment.
I can't imagine how hard it must be to mother a grieving child, especially all by yourself. I hope you both have some support – even though you're far away in your peaceful place. It sounds like you are doing a wonderful job – the best you can. Hang in there. - April 18, 2011 at 8:25 pm
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I want to say something meaningful, but all I can do is hug you from across the miles. That and send you strength to continue the wonderful job you are doing. xxx
- April 18, 2011 at 7:46 pm
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Wow. If ever you needed a reason to believe your beloved was there wtih you, watching and protecting you, you jsut had it.
- April 18, 2011 at 7:24 pm
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Sweetie, you know I am always there for you. I gave up a long time working out how the world/universe works. But I do believe that Tony is looking over you. And that kids see things we may not. And may it give him comfort.
- April 18, 2011 at 5:36 pm
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"Daddy says slow down"
Tony is watching over you all, what more proof do you need? - April 18, 2011 at 1:54 pm
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*HUGS* for you and your children.
- April 18, 2011 at 11:46 am
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It is so hard as a parent to see your children in so much pain.
My exhusband committed suicide last September and left our 4 children heartbroken confused, angry, lost.
All you can do is be their for them, hold them and let them cry when they need it.
You are an amazing mother and your kids will be fine because they have you.
Your man is obviously still looking out for his family xx - April 18, 2011 at 11:43 am
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love and hugs to Chop. So much to say, none of which will help of course. Thinking of you as always. much love.
- April 18, 2011 at 11:23 am
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I'm stunned into silent tears by that last part of your post. Always listen to the children when they say things like that. Children are attuned to things we've learned to tune out. Chop in particular will be a voice for Tony. Hopefully it brings Chop some peace as well, poor, sweet tiny man.
- April 18, 2011 at 10:50 am
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This post made my breath catch in my throat and sob….children, so fragile, so sensitive and in touch with realms we often can't perceive or 'feel' any more as adults. I'm glad you listened. I truly am. I admire your ability to be patient. I, despite having had 5, have little patience and cartoons just drive me nuts. It's like you're all more in tune with each other and even closer than before…and your husband continues to watch over you. How beautiful is that?
- April 18, 2011 at 9:58 am
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I have been reading your blog for so long and never know quite what to say but this one really touched my heart. Your little man is doing so well to be able to express how he is feeling in the best way he can and you're doing an incredible job to be there for him when you are grieving yourself. You are doing all you can do, take comfort in that and your little man will get through this. You all will. You are an inspiration, Lori. All my love and best wishes xx
- April 18, 2011 at 9:13 am
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The grief of children is heartbreaking. His message from daddy is goose-bump inspiring. Amazing. You are an amazing mother, doing what you have to, to get your family through. Hugs to you xxx
- April 18, 2011 at 7:20 am
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Wow and wow! I can't begin to imagine how much that hurts for you to watch and for Chop to feel. And hearing his daddy tell you to slow down… no words on that one.
You sound like you are doing absolutely everything you can for your kids. You sound amazing, Lori xx - April 18, 2011 at 7:04 am
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I really do believe Tony is looking after you all. And I really do believe that you are doing a fantastic job with your babies. Chop will eventually come through this as a stronger and more resilient little man. You are amazing. xxx
- April 18, 2011 at 6:42 am
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Lori – I have goose bumps from the top of my head to the the tips of my toes from your son's comment about Daddy wanting you to slow down. I love how children are so connected to the things we just can't see anymore.
I have no doubt that Tony was in the car with you. - April 18, 2011 at 5:06 am
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Bekkles already said it! – there went another shooting star…
Ihave heard it said that the animals you love never leave you… Why then, would it be any different with the people you love? … xxx - April 18, 2011 at 4:37 am
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This comment has been removed by the author.
- April 18, 2011 at 1:51 pm
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I just got goose bumps reading that last part… I've always been told that kids are more sensitive, more open to sesing or communication with ghosts, spirits, energies, etc. They've yet to become jaded by the world, so I would absolutely know what to make of it… Tony is with you. And even if he doesn't sit on ur shoulder or write you a letter…. he's with you and your babies.
It seems liike it was very natural for your little man to simply hear his father's words and to share them with you.
Maybe it would be a good thing to remind him of that time in the car when Daddy told us to slow down. Remind him that Daddy spoke to him, is still with him.
Only you know if that would be a good thing or not. Maybe you already have.
Either way… ur doing everything as "right" as u can be with a situation that is so, so wrong.Keep on hangin in there… it can only go up from here, eh?
- April 18, 2011 at 2:21 am
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And there, I think, was another shooting star!
x - April 18, 2011 at 12:49 am
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I think you're doing a beautiful job with Chop:)
Also, make of that situation in the car what you will. I personally think though, that it is exactly what you think it was. He still loves you and is still there to protect you in a completely different way.
- April 17, 2011 at 10:00 pm
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Oh my god that gave me shivers. You are being watched over. I have always believed children in their innocence and open mindedness can talk to angels and fairies in a way adults cannot. xx
- April 17, 2011 at 9:51 pm
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Thank goodness for Chop he has a mummy as wonderful as you.
I have no doubt Tony was there for Chop in the back of the car. And I have no doubt Chop can see him, when he's not so angry that he blocks him out. I sent you an email a while back about my son, and what he sees. There's no coincidence, my love – Tony is trying to look after you all. It's the least he can do. xxxxxx
- April 17, 2011 at 8:26 pm
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Children are so much more 'in tune' than we are. It is their very innocence, their lack of coping strategies and rational categorising and inner censorship that allow them to sense and to hear and to know the other worlds that we have blocked out completely with all our 'growing up'. Trust your little man. He knows what he needs and every way he expresses it is right for him right now.
And take a leaf from his book – express where you're at without censorship as often as you can.
x
- April 17, 2011 at 8:24 pm
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Oh wow, just wow. I have no doubt that Tony is looking out for you guys xx
- April 17, 2011 at 7:45 pm
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You are doing the best that you can. Just keep doing that.xxx
- April 17, 2011 at 7:44 pm
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My little girl sometimes speaks to my Nan, who passed away about five years before she was born. Kids are so amazing when it comes to connecting, I think your little guy has a special relationship with his Dad that will only grow stronger.
Love x - April 17, 2011 at 7:22 pm
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Reading that gave me chills, you give me hope xx
- April 17, 2011 at 7:12 pm
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you are doing a great job of being there with your kids..dont under estimate how hard
I cried hard about the last paragraph, I like to believe I have my father looking after me, but the rational part says..how is he there? do I really want him to watch EVERYthing I'm doing..as presumably I can't choose if this is the case..regardless it's comforting to think that someone is looking when I forget to look out for myself..
grief in some ways is simpler for the young, though he can't express it n words his feelings are simpler..I doubt if there are "what if's ?:" in his mind..as haunt you…
very very hard thing to watch..the closest I have expereince is when my baby son used to wait by the window for his dad and when he had left and he never came again..the simple disapearence of someone so large in such a closed world is so heartbreaking to watch..it caused a very large hole in my heart watching that.
- April 17, 2011 at 6:57 pm
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coincidence. probably.
But make of it what you will sweetie.
Grief is hard for little ones cause if WE can't process it… well you already know the rest.
- April 17, 2011 at 6:57 pm
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Lori, children feel, way more than adults, because they don't have to deal with prejudices like we do. They don't know that some people are uncomfortable with thoughts of spirits and angels. They just tell you what they see and hear.
Seems, in this instance at least, that your little man has a gift. If it doesn't make you uncomfortable, encourage it, so long as it doesn't stress him or make him any more scared or upset. You may find there's a reason for it.
xx - April 17, 2011 at 6:42 pm
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Lori, grief and kids is the most complex and unsolvable thing. You have my empathy entirely. My nephew is now 11. His grief is like a lava – always changing, but always there. Sometimes red hot and furious. Other times cool and hard. No win. Yet.
And I have no doubt Tony is watching out for you all. xx
- April 17, 2011 at 6:33 pm
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Wow, kind of takes your breath away!
You are doing all you can, it will take time for all of you to start to heal. I totally respect your strength and hope that things get easier for you all soon.
- April 17, 2011 at 5:49 pm
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Tony is your guardian angel now. And Chop can probably feel him more than you do. As my elders say, children are more innocent and pure and hence can feel a lot more than we can. =)
- April 17, 2011 at 5:46 pm
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I always hang on every word of your posts, but that last bit caught my breath! Much love and well wishes to you all xxx
- April 17, 2011 at 5:31 pm
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Chop seems to be expressing alot of rage at his Dad for abandoning him, and unfortunately you are the one who has to bear the brunt of it all while trying to deal with your own grief & trauma. You have my utmost respect xo
- April 17, 2011 at 5:25 pm
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My heart goes out to him. It must be hard for the wee man to process it all.
- April 17, 2011 at 5:15 pm
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I know exactly what to make of it. You have an angel watching over you. I have a hard time trying to explain to my almost-3-year old why Granddad isn't around anymore. Why he can't go see him. That it's not his fault, and that granddad still does and will always love him. It kills me. I can't imagine how much harder that must be to explain the same thing about Daddy. My heart aches for you and your kids.
- April 17, 2011 at 5:02 pm
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He's looking out for you that little guy. Almost as much as you are for him. Love to you all.
- April 17, 2011 at 4:59 pm
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Wow. That gave me shivers. Do you really feel like Tony is still around? That there is something there after all of this?
Is Chop having therapy or anything for all this grief? I'm not even sure if they offer it for young kids? It might help, or at least give you some tools to be able to help him. But honestly? You are doing so so well with him. - April 17, 2011 at 4:57 pm
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You are doing the best you can, and it souns to me that that is just perfect. You are encouraging your little man to express his feelings an to talk and that is the most important thing. And of course to love him and to be there.
You are doing all those things.M2Mx
- April 17, 2011 at 11:21 pm
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I can only imagine how your heart breaks to see your little Chop go through all of that… I know, though, that he'll pull through this, and it will be because of you – because you gave him all of your love, patience and strength, even in the midst of your own pain and your desire to do exactly like him and scream.
Clearly Tony is watching over you all. HUG!!
- April 17, 2011 at 11:06 pm
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<3 hugs to you 3
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{ 7 comments… read them below or add one }
It is peace, it is paradise:)
You have such an amazing gift Lori! Never stop writing
Beautiful!
I just love your style of writing. I imagine myself there… no matter what you're writing. Lovely.
Lovely xxx
Thanks gorgeous. x
Beautifully written…