I'm A Bag Lady!

This is what I've been doing......

Yep.... sewing stuff.  And, in typical Fe style, making lots of them.  The boys love them so much that I went and bought "boy fabric" and made them some too.

This is where I got the pattern for the Reversible Shoulder Bag (thanks Lula Louise)

(Oh..... if you're a friend with a birthday in the next twelve months.... forget you saw these.  Please.)

And here is photo of my wonderful Dutch (and Belgian) blogging friends.  Wikke bequeathed them to me when she returned to the Netherlands...... an act for which I am enormously grateful.  (ED: The bequeathing .... NOT the returning to the Netherlands!!  Of course!)

We had a wonderfully nurturing and fun couple of hours together this morning.  The best medicine for what ails me.

And then I got to watch my first born play an Old Chinese Man in his class play.  Quite odd seeing him with such prominent facial hair.  A glimpse into the future?

So..... my heart is full and my fingers are sore (they are so pin-pricked that it hurts to type).  Life is good.

Best and Worst anyone?

My best....... seeing H perform brilliantly in the school play.

My worst....... F ignoring me in the school grounds.

A wonderful visit...

We were honoured with a visit from Lara, Mark and Inigo last night.  

Inigo's just a bit keen on the big boys who live at my place...

but the icing on the cake was our in-built baby-magnet grandmother. 

Next time he may not let them take him home.

Busted...

I don't know that I'd recommend this to all parents.

This afternoon I decided to sneak up on my kids to make sure that they were doing homework (as they said they were)..

This one was doing EXACTLY as he was supposed (researching a project about the RAAF during the Iraq War).....
.... and this one was breaking the most golden of GOLDEN rules in our house.  That's right.  "No electronic games or tv during the school week".  

He SO doesn't look guilty enough.

10 years ago....

On this day 10 years ago, H and I spent our last few hours together as a "two-some".

The Good, the Bad, and the Very Funny.....

My boys and I had a wonderful weekend together.  A couple of play-dates (for all of us) and just enough down-time to feel relaxed.

Well, for THEM to feel relaxed.

DH emailed the boys from Bali this morning.  And told H to "remember to register for Cricket.  Let me know when you've done it.".  Huh?  He's 11!  A quick internet search showed me that all local cricket clubs require the completed registration forms (with substantial payment) to be received by mail tomorrow at the latest.  DH has always been responsible for weekend sport, and I'm pretty pissed off that he's done this so intentionally.  This is incredibly disappointing to H.

I have, of course, sent off emails requesting extension time for our application, and am resigned to having to pay for it.  Grrrr.

Oh, before that, he sent me an email dictating all of the things wrong with me, and notifying me of his intention to apply to the Courts for equal parenting and sole responsibility for our children, because I am so obviously an unfit mother.  This, he says, is evidenced by H's anxiety.  Apparently I've been abusing him (DH) for the past 10 years (by asking him to pay his Child Support) and this last thing (me being so obviously pissed off by him leaving the country and therefore not being able to take the boys for his agreed contact) has convinced him that I am a completely irrational and dangerous human being.  You should SEE the rant that he wrote.

It would be funny if it didn't effect the children so much.  Because, of course, if I display any frustration or upset in front of them I'm obviously an unfit mother.  So yeah, they know that stuff is going on.  They're too old to not pick up on every emotion of mine.  

So.... here's some FUN emotionally healing stuff!  The first one is a photo of Javier Bardem literally biting my .... ummmm .... booby about 18 years ago in Madrid.  He and his brother Carlos were great friends of mine for a couple of years.  They used my London flat as their base when in the UK, and had my friend Gabe and me to stay with them in Madrid a couple of times.

Who knew he'd end up being an Academy Award Winning Actor???  

Too funny!  Do you think Penelope Cruz would be jealous?

This is what he looks like now. 

Yum.  Should have grabbed him when I had the chance.

Alone

It is a tiny thing.  Really.  And it does NOT take away from the joy and pleasure and feeling that I would not change one single minute of the last 7 weeks.  But I am relishing these first few hours of being alone.

The boys have gone to their Dad.  It's the first time that we have been apart since June 1st.  There were lots of tears this morning when they left for their first day back to school..... knowing that they would not be coming home until Sunday night.  They've been home with me for the last two days (since we returned) and I think I was partly resisting having to let them go.

They have been incredible.  For all the times they drive me up the wall and send me to eyeball-rolling parenting hell in our "real" lives .... they have been the most incredibly mature, brave, trusting, wonderful, adventurous and fun travelling companions that anyone could ask for.  I am so lucky.  And so grateful.  And so proud.

And right now, to ease the pain of missing them, I'm watching the Dixie Chicks DVD "Shut Up And Sing", drinking my daily dose of vegetables (V8) with my hair soaked in conditioner and my pj's on.  And I'm slowly getting used to having alone time again.

Dixie Chicks - Not Ready To Make Nice

We're in London!

We survived the flights.  The FULL flights.  The "every single seat on the 12 hour flight has been sold" flight.  The "F got plane sick and threw up all over himself, me and the seat within the first half hour" flight.  The "Phenergan definitely does NOT work for my children" flights.  The "BA flight attendants aren't nearly as nice as Qantas flight attendants" flights (information learned when juggling vomiting child from centre seat with attendant standing well back and telling me to take him to the toilet) 

We're absolutely exhausted.  But, as F just said "I feel way better for getting off the plane".

Here we are in Heathrow's Terminal 5.  Brand new and hugely controversial (I definitely have jet lag.  The terminal keeps swaying and it took me 3 minutes to remember the word "controversial"), it's glamorous, expensive-looking and 25 irritating bus-ride minutes away from Terminal 4 (where we arrived).  Our flight to Glasgow leaves in 1.5 hours and so we're sitting in a cafe ........ where F ate his first meal in 24 hours ....... and now H is feeling extremely sick.  Jet lag, I'm sure, but the boys are having a wonderful conversation about whether he should vomit on the Audi R8 or the Ferrari F430 (both parked on a display station less than 20 metres from us right now!).

They've been behaving wonderfully, although we are all getting a bit scratchy now.  Especially me.  Still...... we haven't missed any connections (although we cut it very fine in Bangkok when I lost our boarding passes) and are all reasonable okay.  Just dehydrated and exhausted.

Can't wait for Glasgow.  Nearly there!!!  Poor Gillian.  I'm sure we all STINK (F and I sure do because of afore-mentioned event on flight) and we are bound to collapse with our heads in our laps about mid-afternoon. 

Boys are with DH

.... and I really am finding this difficult.

I haven't divulged the latest drama, but the boys have been pretty traumatised and both are displaying horrific affects of anxiety and depression.  They're off to a psychologist on Monday..... one who specialises in family counselling related to divorce and separation.... and I can only hope that we get some sage and practical advice.

H has had months of cognitive behavioural therapy, and yet he still pulls his hair out (literally... an affliction called trichotillomania) and suffers severe "worries" at night which prevent him sleeping.

F begs me (literally) to keep him from having to stay with DH, and expresses his anxiety with tantrums and solitary visits to his wardrobe.  

This all scares the crap out of me.  I am overwhelmed with hopelessness.  And frustration and anger.

For a brief history of DH and his treatment of me, click here.

And for all of that, I have hoped and prayed that all of the wonderful things that I fell in love with in him would make him a great father.  I have blindly believed that he could separate his feelings towards me from his feelings towards his sons.

But events lately have made me think that he is not able to do that.  And that fills me with guilt and sadness.

Our upcoming trip overseas is more than a holiday.  It's an escape from the stressors that afflict us daily.  I'm hoping that my boys learn to relax, to believe in themselves and to experience unconditional love from respected (and respectful) adults.  I'm hoping that 6 weeks is long enough to repair some of the sadness that lives deep in their souls.

And if it's not, I'm hoping that it's enough time to give me the strength to do whatever it is that I will have to do to protect my children.

Growing Up

From this:

To this:


And from this:

To this:
in a few short years.

Sheesh.

That's my boy!!

H is in his last year of Primary School, and although our local High School is very highly regarded, he has had his heart set on going to a Catholic Cathedral College in the heart of the city.  DH's sister teaches there, and she has been telling me for years that she thinks that H would be extremely happy there.  He's an extremely sensitive and anxious child, and has suffered the tougher kids' taunts for years at school.  He's also the kind of kid who befriends younger kids and less popular kids JUST because he sees that they're lonely.  He'll stand up for perceived social injustices and will "tell tales" when he sees bullying in the playground.  He's just never going to be comfortable in a large and bullying environment.



Although the Catholic school has a wonderful reputation, I haven't been too sure about it for a couple of major reasons.

1. You really have to be Catholic to go there.  Or at least of some recognisable faith.  H isn't even christened.

2. It's an incredibly popular school and has a reputation for being terribly difficult to get into it.  Even MORE so if ...... see # 1.

3. It costs money.  And I certainly can't afford it.... not just fees but expensive uniforms and equipment, extracurricular activities etc...

Entry is by interview only.  Our interview was today.

My shy and anxious son SHONE.  Without prompting and without obvious nerves (even though this was REALLY important to him) he answered questions clearly and sensibly.  He expanded on his answers and he focussed on being honest rather than trying to impress.

And at the end of the interview, the Headmaster explained to him that he has to interview all of the Catholic applicants first, and then, if there are any spaces left over, he would consider the non-Catholic applicants.  He then told H that he was SO impressed with him, that he was just the kind of boy that he likes to have at the school (and listed qualities that were accurate and insightful), that he would therefore be sending me a letter in the next couple of weeks offering H a place at the school!

I had tears in my eyes.  I just feel that H would be lost in the local High School... and that this nurturing little college will be a place for him to "find his feet".  And I was SO impressed with the Headmaster.  He really interviewed well, and it was his skills that enabled H to be so open and articulate.

Things might be looking up.

Oh, and DH will HAVE to pay the fees.... his sister's reputation will be on the line!!