It's a tough time of year....

I know that many of us struggle through this time of year. I certainly do. Part of it is that it's the season of "togetherness" and therefore it's the time of year when I feel most alone.

It's the time of year when I really notice that we don't get invited to many things. It's the downside of being a one parent family. In my experience, most of my friends and family think about inviting other "families" to their christmas parties and gatherings, and that usually means having a grown up man so that their husband has someone to talk to. (Obviously I don't have enough single parent friends.)

When I've been in relationship, this time of year has been busy busy busy. When I'm not, it's extremely solitary.

And then my boys go to DH. And the dark cloud descends. The sad and lonely cloud.

Christmas Day was pretty good this year. I have one of those families who really only get together on Christmas Day. Obviously I see my parents all the time, but my brothers have full lives which do not include me and my children.

We did have an uneventful Dec 25 this year... not always guaranteed. Toto and Boo were pretty exhausted and a bit lethargic, but other than vomiting in the garden bed a couple of times, all went well.

My beautiful niece Jaz

Papa and Nonie

The cousins

The boy cousins

Boo taking a quiet moment with a new magic set

Harry and Tim .... son and father

Toto in a pensive moment

Father and son..... Papa and Matt

Boo in a less exhausted moment

We were invited to a family "do" on Boxing Day... The little cousins got to hang out together again, and we grown up cousins enjoyed a rare catch up.

Uncle Jim (my Dad's brother) and Auntie Rose. Precious.

My favourite cousin... Katie.

My Dad

When I was a little girl...

I wanted to be happy. I didn’t want to be a doctor, lawyer, nurse, mummy or anything specific. Just happy.

When I was in my early twenties...

I wanted to NOT have my own children and therefore add to the over-population of the world. I wanted to focus on my career, continue to spend my life living in countries other than Australia, contribute to help make the world a better place, find a kind and funny partner to love and then possibly adopt an unwanted child from a third-world country.

When I was in my late twenties....

I wanted to make my marriage the best marriage that had ever existed. I wanted to have babies and continue contributing my skills to those less fortunate than me. I felt blessed and almost guilty for being so happy.

When I was in my early thirties....

I desperately wanted to fall pregnant. I suffered miscarriage after miscarriage and felt that I had failed at the one thing that I was supposed to be able to do easily.

I wanted to fulfill my husband’s greatest wish as well. He SO wanted to be a father, and my failure to do that easily (yes, medical tests proved that it was all my fault, not his) became a fissure in our relationship.

When I was in my early to mid-thirties....

I wanted to die. I had failed at everything. I failed at being a wife. I was a hopeless mother. I was unable to work. I was convinced that I had had my run of happiness early on, and had nothing but sadness and difficulty in my future. And then...

I thought I was going to die. My cancer diagnosis threw me into a dread that I would leave my boys when they were too young to remember me at all. I wanted to shake their father into changing his priorities and becoming more involved in his sons’ lives. I wanted to live.

When I was in my late thirties....

I wanted my boys to know happiness. And I created a world for them which I hoped would allow them to develop self-esteem and confidence and a knowledge that they are loved. But I was very sad.

Now I am in my early forties.....

I want to be happy. Truly, deeply content. Without concern for the actions of their father. Without a stinging sense of injustice for the experiences I have had with him, with family court, with child support. Without a partner. Without depending on having financial security, but hopefully with a career that can support us without ongoing financial stress..

I want my boys to know that they are enough.

50 years. Sheesh.

50 years ago today, my parents decided that, for better or for worse, they wanted to choose each other to journey through life with.

Crikey.

What an old-fashioned idea.

But, by God, they were true to their word.  And through 3 kids and different careers and all of the shite that life throws at us, they kept choosing each other.

Probably sometimes every single day.  (life and parenting being what it is)

And for that I am truly grateful.

So tonight...... they partied.  (photos to follow).

And they had hundreds of friends who genuinely wished them well and loved them dearly.  And three children who proudly told the room how lucky they felt to have been born to these two accepting folk.

And they ARE accepting folk. Of each other.  Of their children.  Of circumstance.

They're wise and wonderful and I am privileged to be able to call them Mum and Dad.   Truly.

Through all of lifes uncertainty, I have had the incredible luck of having a certain two for parents.  They don't judge (no..... truly...) and they try very hard not to assume.  They just "are".






I love you Mum and Dad.  And I thank you.  For everything.

This is what we did on the weekend....

You might recognise the beautiful Gabe from the infamous Madrid photos with Javier Bardem.  She's still just as gorgeous, inside and out.  And I'm betting she and Bruce hope that the beautiful Lily stays well away from exotic European locations and ruggedly attractive Spanish actors!  The beautiful Luke was SO enamoured with my big boys (and their toys) that he cried and cried when time came to leave.

*sigh*

And in celebration of the multitude of July / August birthdays in my family, we had a gathering and took some photos.

(missing: nephew Harry) (extra: brothers' m-i-l Elizabeth)