This week, my normally orgnanised daughter has lost 2, yes 2, school exercise books, both times resulting in a major panic.
After getting thoroughly sick of looking for the first one and at my wits of knowing where to find the damn thng, I told her this "Nevermind, I will cast a spell so that tomorrow you will find your book."
And I did. I said:
Abra cadabra, zippity zoo,
make this book appear to you!
(point at child with magical flourish and smile)
We didn't find the book in the morning. She left school with a note in her pocket apologising to the teacher for losing the book. However, she didn't need the note. When she was in class, she went to put another bunch of books on the shelf at the back of the room and when she got back, the said book was sitting on her table!!! Did a friend put it there? No and we checked to see if it was within another book. She couldn't explain it and my standing as a super-mummy went up astronomically. Don't you love it when your tricks work?
Now, I can put this down to co-incidence, but when she lost her science book yesterday, we did the same thing after failing to yet again, find the book. We said the 'spell' and smiled. Positive thoughts, we said, will bring the book to us. At school, she checked her bag again and yep, there it was. I had checked her bag at least 3 times before she went to school, so, go figure.
My conclusion is that I must be magical, like all mummies who can pull off all kinds of tricks and things with their kids. No wonder kids love their mums. I wonder if anyone else has had this sort of thing happen.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
the lives of my family
What would life be without the dramas that children bring?
Last night my daughter was happy that she'd gotten most of her homework done. This morning she was frantic and tired because she still had some to do and was feeling too sleepy to do it. Then she panicked because she couldn't find one of her science books and apparently her science teacher is all too enthusiastic about handing out a 'beating' (smack on the hand with a ruler) for misbehaviours such as this. I never show it to her but I don't like the system here. They do good things to and the kids are learning, but the fundamentals just seem wrong to me - the handing out of useless homework (her english this week was to copy "may I come too?" 5 times in her exercise book. There's no room for deviation - good or bad - so if a child is better than the rest, she's held back to their level, and if a child is really slow, she's left behind. It's not fair for any of them. And the discipline policy definately needs a look at. I saw a teacher going around the assembly hall with a rotan (cane), smacking wayward students. I tell you, if she'd come near my boy or girl, words would have been had. But it's accepted here. Not one parent will stand up and say, "I think this needs to be changed". They all say, "well, that's the way it is". It's not right. Children like my daughter shouldn't be afraid to go to school because they've made a mistake. My daughter works hard, she's more organised than most adults and she's smart. She shouldn't be punished, none of them should, for making a mistake like losing a book. And of course, in the midst of all the panic, those words came out, words I never wanted her to say "I hate school!" Of course, that just makes me want to wisk her away and plonk her right in the midst of one of our lovely, fun, panic free schools. Maybe then, her tummy wouldn't ache and her neck wouldn't hurt her. Sigh!!!!!!!!!
I'm dazed today. Dazed from too little sleep, doing the job parents do best - looking after sick and vomiting kiddies at night. He seems to be on the mend now, my son, after a night where he literally vomited while he was asleep. I was so glad at that time that I'd given in to his request to sleep in my room because, he said, he had a sore tummy and a sore neck. The thing is, the sore tummy thing had been going on all week (true or not, I don't know) so I really was just giving in to him because it had gone on so long. I'm glad I did or he would have ended up sleeping in his own puke, poor kid. As it was, every 2 hours he'd wake, vomit and go back to sleep and I stayed awake to keep an eye on him and clean up. Good thing by then I had buckets and towels at the ready.
After daughter got safely to school, son and I slept and watched tv, content to take the afternoon off. Later, I found myself running a slight fever and I hate cooking when I'm not well (and don't think I should have to, so planned to buy dinner after getting daughter from school. Ex had also slept for the afternoon, having come in from work and a night out at 7am. I do worry when he comes in so late. At 5.45, ex awoke with a start saying he still had to go our and clean the pub up so he left for a while, picked up daughter from school, came back and then thankfully offered to go and get dinner for us.
After dinner, son seemed to be well again, after getting a fever in the afternoon. He'll sleep in my bed again tonight, just to make sure he's OK. Now, as I'm writing this, ex has left for work, still very tired. I told him to take care of himself and I meant it. He'll be OK. The kids are watching Bolt on dvd and I'm letting them stay up because tomorrow is Sunday, when we can all sleep in. In the background, I can hear the last call for prayers at a nearby mosque.
Time to recover some more from what seems like a fairly frantic week. So goodnight to anybody who does read this. I hope you are safe and well.
Last night my daughter was happy that she'd gotten most of her homework done. This morning she was frantic and tired because she still had some to do and was feeling too sleepy to do it. Then she panicked because she couldn't find one of her science books and apparently her science teacher is all too enthusiastic about handing out a 'beating' (smack on the hand with a ruler) for misbehaviours such as this. I never show it to her but I don't like the system here. They do good things to and the kids are learning, but the fundamentals just seem wrong to me - the handing out of useless homework (her english this week was to copy "may I come too?" 5 times in her exercise book. There's no room for deviation - good or bad - so if a child is better than the rest, she's held back to their level, and if a child is really slow, she's left behind. It's not fair for any of them. And the discipline policy definately needs a look at. I saw a teacher going around the assembly hall with a rotan (cane), smacking wayward students. I tell you, if she'd come near my boy or girl, words would have been had. But it's accepted here. Not one parent will stand up and say, "I think this needs to be changed". They all say, "well, that's the way it is". It's not right. Children like my daughter shouldn't be afraid to go to school because they've made a mistake. My daughter works hard, she's more organised than most adults and she's smart. She shouldn't be punished, none of them should, for making a mistake like losing a book. And of course, in the midst of all the panic, those words came out, words I never wanted her to say "I hate school!" Of course, that just makes me want to wisk her away and plonk her right in the midst of one of our lovely, fun, panic free schools. Maybe then, her tummy wouldn't ache and her neck wouldn't hurt her. Sigh!!!!!!!!!
I'm dazed today. Dazed from too little sleep, doing the job parents do best - looking after sick and vomiting kiddies at night. He seems to be on the mend now, my son, after a night where he literally vomited while he was asleep. I was so glad at that time that I'd given in to his request to sleep in my room because, he said, he had a sore tummy and a sore neck. The thing is, the sore tummy thing had been going on all week (true or not, I don't know) so I really was just giving in to him because it had gone on so long. I'm glad I did or he would have ended up sleeping in his own puke, poor kid. As it was, every 2 hours he'd wake, vomit and go back to sleep and I stayed awake to keep an eye on him and clean up. Good thing by then I had buckets and towels at the ready.
After daughter got safely to school, son and I slept and watched tv, content to take the afternoon off. Later, I found myself running a slight fever and I hate cooking when I'm not well (and don't think I should have to, so planned to buy dinner after getting daughter from school. Ex had also slept for the afternoon, having come in from work and a night out at 7am. I do worry when he comes in so late. At 5.45, ex awoke with a start saying he still had to go our and clean the pub up so he left for a while, picked up daughter from school, came back and then thankfully offered to go and get dinner for us.
After dinner, son seemed to be well again, after getting a fever in the afternoon. He'll sleep in my bed again tonight, just to make sure he's OK. Now, as I'm writing this, ex has left for work, still very tired. I told him to take care of himself and I meant it. He'll be OK. The kids are watching Bolt on dvd and I'm letting them stay up because tomorrow is Sunday, when we can all sleep in. In the background, I can hear the last call for prayers at a nearby mosque.
Time to recover some more from what seems like a fairly frantic week. So goodnight to anybody who does read this. I hope you are safe and well.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Success and happiness - how do you define yours?
Today, we were watching Oprah, ex and I. Gary Zukav was talking about claiming responsibility for your feelings. Only you can make you happy and it comes from within. I get that. For a long time, I expected ex to make me happy and of course I thought that just because he loved me, he was also happy.
WRONG!
What I've learned is that no material things can make you happy. I've owned an Audi A4 and then an A8 luxury car, we weren't happy. I've lived in a lovely house made for two in the eastern suburbs, it didn't make me happy. I've had money in the bank when ex was earning $60/hour, I was not happy. We lived in one of the most beautiful places you could choose to live, played golf on the nicest courses, have two beautiful kids (they make me happy, but that's not what I mean) and sailed the Whitsundays. All these experiences, while I liked doing them, did not make me intrinsically happy.
In fact, believe it or not, I'm happier now than I've ever been, despite the bad days, despite being away from my family. When I say happy though, I think I mean in the sense of being happy with myself. That self-assuredness that comes from knowing yourself better than anyone else and being OK with it.
I was so insecure and unhappy for so long. Afraid to look at my dark side (the anger and the moods) which was creating a miserable life for ex and myself, I'd deflect any suggestion that I was somehow flawed. I was scared of seeing myself as anything but 'nice and kind', yet we lived with 'anything but' for years and years. It was the core of our unhappiness together.
Ex and I have been together for almost 20 years, a long time in anyone's book (except those lovely old people you meet who have been together for 50). I wanted things my way, I didn't want to change the way I did things or the way I thought. I thought I was OK and in lots of ways I was, but there were a few fundamental things where I wasn't, such as the way I dealt with my rollercoaster emotions. My fear of doing new things that were not in my comfort zone. And million other things that when you stack them up, look like one big ugly thing.
It's only been in the last 2 years that I've been able to accept that my moods and ways of doing things (I'm can be really absent minded) were affecting our life together, placing us in an intolerable rut. Once opened my mind and began to explore what was really happening, I was able to change and grow. For such a long time, I didn't want to change, for fear that I would no longer be 'me'. Yet here I am, still me, but managing the moods and and doing things much better now. So much stronger and yes, much happier within myself.
Now that we're through the bullshit and seeing things for what they are, things are better. We don't have much - we rent our house and I drive a beat up old 8 seater toyota. I have savings at home but there is little in the way of assets and savings for the future. We live week to week, which is one of the reasons we moved here in the first place, it's much cheaper. We eat well, our clothes are OK and the kids are healthy and well looked after. They learn music together and I can afford a tutor twice a week, so we're not living in poverty.
But I no longer define my happiness and success by material things. When I contemplate my life from my lumpy couch, looking at our second hand furniture and seeing the crack in the ceiling that lets the water in when it rains hard, I can see where I've come from and why I feel like I do. Every success I have, makes me happy. If my kids go to sleep smiling and laughing together, THAT to me is my success. Every day that I get through without plunging into a black mood and every meal that my kids love, is a success for me. Every revelation about what's happened in my life and how I can learn from it, contributes to how I feel about myself and ultimately, how happy I am within myself. Everyday that the kids get off to school with clean uniforms, white shoes, homework done, bags organised, lunch eaten, I count as a success.
I've had lots of 'losses' in the past, but without them, I wouldn't be able to count the life I have now as anywhere near 'successful'. But I think it is. I'm not saying it couldn't be better, it can always be better. But I'm happy within myself, I approve of myself and when I don't, I am the one that notices it and fixes me up. I do my own hard work now, not wanting or expecting ex to do it for me.
So now we're moving onto another stage of learning to 'unlearn' negative reactions and angry responses. We're learning together, managing our own baggage, not blaming each other. It's the best place we've been, ever. If you looked at it, you'd think that we don't have much of a life. But both of us appreciate how bad it was, compared to what it is now, so to us, our life looks good. It's clear and honest. And that's just about the best thing I could hope for right now.
G'night.
WRONG!
What I've learned is that no material things can make you happy. I've owned an Audi A4 and then an A8 luxury car, we weren't happy. I've lived in a lovely house made for two in the eastern suburbs, it didn't make me happy. I've had money in the bank when ex was earning $60/hour, I was not happy. We lived in one of the most beautiful places you could choose to live, played golf on the nicest courses, have two beautiful kids (they make me happy, but that's not what I mean) and sailed the Whitsundays. All these experiences, while I liked doing them, did not make me intrinsically happy.
In fact, believe it or not, I'm happier now than I've ever been, despite the bad days, despite being away from my family. When I say happy though, I think I mean in the sense of being happy with myself. That self-assuredness that comes from knowing yourself better than anyone else and being OK with it.
I was so insecure and unhappy for so long. Afraid to look at my dark side (the anger and the moods) which was creating a miserable life for ex and myself, I'd deflect any suggestion that I was somehow flawed. I was scared of seeing myself as anything but 'nice and kind', yet we lived with 'anything but' for years and years. It was the core of our unhappiness together.
Ex and I have been together for almost 20 years, a long time in anyone's book (except those lovely old people you meet who have been together for 50). I wanted things my way, I didn't want to change the way I did things or the way I thought. I thought I was OK and in lots of ways I was, but there were a few fundamental things where I wasn't, such as the way I dealt with my rollercoaster emotions. My fear of doing new things that were not in my comfort zone. And million other things that when you stack them up, look like one big ugly thing.
It's only been in the last 2 years that I've been able to accept that my moods and ways of doing things (I'm can be really absent minded) were affecting our life together, placing us in an intolerable rut. Once opened my mind and began to explore what was really happening, I was able to change and grow. For such a long time, I didn't want to change, for fear that I would no longer be 'me'. Yet here I am, still me, but managing the moods and and doing things much better now. So much stronger and yes, much happier within myself.
Now that we're through the bullshit and seeing things for what they are, things are better. We don't have much - we rent our house and I drive a beat up old 8 seater toyota. I have savings at home but there is little in the way of assets and savings for the future. We live week to week, which is one of the reasons we moved here in the first place, it's much cheaper. We eat well, our clothes are OK and the kids are healthy and well looked after. They learn music together and I can afford a tutor twice a week, so we're not living in poverty.
But I no longer define my happiness and success by material things. When I contemplate my life from my lumpy couch, looking at our second hand furniture and seeing the crack in the ceiling that lets the water in when it rains hard, I can see where I've come from and why I feel like I do. Every success I have, makes me happy. If my kids go to sleep smiling and laughing together, THAT to me is my success. Every day that I get through without plunging into a black mood and every meal that my kids love, is a success for me. Every revelation about what's happened in my life and how I can learn from it, contributes to how I feel about myself and ultimately, how happy I am within myself. Everyday that the kids get off to school with clean uniforms, white shoes, homework done, bags organised, lunch eaten, I count as a success.
I've had lots of 'losses' in the past, but without them, I wouldn't be able to count the life I have now as anywhere near 'successful'. But I think it is. I'm not saying it couldn't be better, it can always be better. But I'm happy within myself, I approve of myself and when I don't, I am the one that notices it and fixes me up. I do my own hard work now, not wanting or expecting ex to do it for me.
So now we're moving onto another stage of learning to 'unlearn' negative reactions and angry responses. We're learning together, managing our own baggage, not blaming each other. It's the best place we've been, ever. If you looked at it, you'd think that we don't have much of a life. But both of us appreciate how bad it was, compared to what it is now, so to us, our life looks good. It's clear and honest. And that's just about the best thing I could hope for right now.
G'night.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Firestorms
The firestorms back home are terrible news. So many people dead. Property destroyed and it's not over yet. I can't begin to imagine the grief, the terrible sense of loss the affected people must be experiencing. And it makes me grateful, of course, for my own situation. Family still intact, belongings in place. No loss.
I was scared for some of my cousins who live in Hurstbridge, sad for their loss of friends and a beautiful place to live. What's happened is almost incomprehensible. The strength and scale of a firestorm beyond what anybody ever knew could be. There are so many stories of those who survived where they just couldn't believe what was happening. Like the horror in a Hollywood disaster movie, but there's no walking away and going back to real life. This is life and sometimes life is horrible.
I feel devastated for those who tried to get away and couldn't, trapped in the blackness of smoke and fire debris, crashing into fallen trees and each other, their cars becoming incinerators. Gary Hughes wrote about his experience, an outstanding story of what it was really like and why so many people died.
And for those left behind to contemplate what's happened and what they must do next. My thoughts are with you. The trauma will take a long time to fade.
But in times of great hardship such as this, the community, friends and family will pull together. The strength of the human spirit will prevail and those left behind will rise up and rebuild their lives, changed forever by a hot weekend in February 2009.
I was scared for some of my cousins who live in Hurstbridge, sad for their loss of friends and a beautiful place to live. What's happened is almost incomprehensible. The strength and scale of a firestorm beyond what anybody ever knew could be. There are so many stories of those who survived where they just couldn't believe what was happening. Like the horror in a Hollywood disaster movie, but there's no walking away and going back to real life. This is life and sometimes life is horrible.
I feel devastated for those who tried to get away and couldn't, trapped in the blackness of smoke and fire debris, crashing into fallen trees and each other, their cars becoming incinerators. Gary Hughes wrote about his experience, an outstanding story of what it was really like and why so many people died.
And for those left behind to contemplate what's happened and what they must do next. My thoughts are with you. The trauma will take a long time to fade.
But in times of great hardship such as this, the community, friends and family will pull together. The strength of the human spirit will prevail and those left behind will rise up and rebuild their lives, changed forever by a hot weekend in February 2009.
The stress
I find the grind of daily life stressful, as I think most people would. I'm not one of those people who can hide it though. You can hear it in my voice, see it in my body language and feel it if you are with me. It makes life stressful for those around me and even though I know it's a bad thing, I have trouble stopping it.
The daily grind of cooking gets to me easily. There is constant demand for meals, snacks and drinks, like I'm the only one in the house that can get anybody anything to eat - and I've only got two kids. Every hour one of the kids is hungry and I get sick of having to think about the healthy things they should be eating and usually settle for bread and cheese or a biscuit of some kind. Of course then, the guilt about being a good mother comes and I wonder whether I'm destroying their eating habits for life.
And then there's my son. He's driving me crazy and I worry about him constantly. I've talked about him before and how he's a little different than most little boys his age. Oh, he plays with cars and all that and he's doing well at school. But his imagination is driving me crazy. Every day it's something new and weird that he comes up with - today he learned to 'knit' - but he treats it as real and expects us to do the same and if it doesn't happen, it's major meltdown. He talks constantly about things that he makes up or what's going on in his pretend world. He plays the keyboard, but long after he's finished actually playing, his fingers are still drumming out songs on everything (his chest, legs, my head and shoulders, the table while he's eating). He's so caught up in his own world that he doesn't notice things going on around him and he's slow to react to situations - like moving out of the way of people or getting out of the car. People are constantly telling him how to do things and I know that if they give him time, he'll get it done, just in his own time. I love him so much, yet feel like I'm failing him because he's not up to the standards of other people. Ex said the other day "he's still like this" - what he doesn't understand is that our son will always be 'like this' - the same qualities that drive us crazy now are going to be the same qualities that will drive him to pursue his passions, that he will need to be successful in what he chooses to do with his life later on.
I can turn it around and say that he has great focus in things that interest him, amazing energy and a lovely sweetness to him. He's sensitive and affectionate and enthusiastic about the things he loves. He loves imaginary things, being creative and can occupy himself in a way that our daughter never could. He is rigid and obsessive, yet he is thorough and particular and has a fantastic memory that I know will serve him well as an adult. I love him to bits and all that, but sometimes, it just gets a bit too much.
And the other night I was talking about me going away for a weekend and the son came up with 15 excuses about why I shouldn't go. "Ok, who's going to cook for us then?" or "Oh yeah, who will pick us up from school then?" and "Well, you have to go to your classes!" Of course I had a solution for every one of his questions and in the end... he just broke down and said "Please mummy, just don't leave, I just don't want you to leave!" What could I do. I just held him and told him everything will be OK and that there was nothing to worry about. I wasn't going anywhere. And I won't.
Later that night, after feeling crabby most of the afternoon, I got angry, really angry at the kids for appearing to ignore me. Of course, I was over reacting, but I still lost it. And the poor kids copped it. Later when we'd all calmed down and I'd apologised, my daughter told me, in a round about way, that the thing that frightened her the most was that if I got angry enough, for long enough, I'd end up leaving (again). My poor kids. I know it's hard for them, having a mummy like me, who's loving and soft one minute and an unstable shithead the next. I'm sure sometimes they wish I was different. I do too, but I'm not. I am me, moods and all. And while I try to control them, I know that at times, they will get the better of me and things will happen that we'd rather all forget. But I'm not going anywhere. None of us needs that, expecially the kids. The consequences of leaving last time still haunt me in the baggage that appears in our daily lives and conversations - "...but you left last time..."
I'm NOT going anywhere, not for a weekend, a week or a month. I am coming home at Christmas, with the two kids in tow and I will save my money and yearnings for a holiday for that time.
The daily grind of cooking gets to me easily. There is constant demand for meals, snacks and drinks, like I'm the only one in the house that can get anybody anything to eat - and I've only got two kids. Every hour one of the kids is hungry and I get sick of having to think about the healthy things they should be eating and usually settle for bread and cheese or a biscuit of some kind. Of course then, the guilt about being a good mother comes and I wonder whether I'm destroying their eating habits for life.
And then there's my son. He's driving me crazy and I worry about him constantly. I've talked about him before and how he's a little different than most little boys his age. Oh, he plays with cars and all that and he's doing well at school. But his imagination is driving me crazy. Every day it's something new and weird that he comes up with - today he learned to 'knit' - but he treats it as real and expects us to do the same and if it doesn't happen, it's major meltdown. He talks constantly about things that he makes up or what's going on in his pretend world. He plays the keyboard, but long after he's finished actually playing, his fingers are still drumming out songs on everything (his chest, legs, my head and shoulders, the table while he's eating). He's so caught up in his own world that he doesn't notice things going on around him and he's slow to react to situations - like moving out of the way of people or getting out of the car. People are constantly telling him how to do things and I know that if they give him time, he'll get it done, just in his own time. I love him so much, yet feel like I'm failing him because he's not up to the standards of other people. Ex said the other day "he's still like this" - what he doesn't understand is that our son will always be 'like this' - the same qualities that drive us crazy now are going to be the same qualities that will drive him to pursue his passions, that he will need to be successful in what he chooses to do with his life later on.
I can turn it around and say that he has great focus in things that interest him, amazing energy and a lovely sweetness to him. He's sensitive and affectionate and enthusiastic about the things he loves. He loves imaginary things, being creative and can occupy himself in a way that our daughter never could. He is rigid and obsessive, yet he is thorough and particular and has a fantastic memory that I know will serve him well as an adult. I love him to bits and all that, but sometimes, it just gets a bit too much.
And the other night I was talking about me going away for a weekend and the son came up with 15 excuses about why I shouldn't go. "Ok, who's going to cook for us then?" or "Oh yeah, who will pick us up from school then?" and "Well, you have to go to your classes!" Of course I had a solution for every one of his questions and in the end... he just broke down and said "Please mummy, just don't leave, I just don't want you to leave!" What could I do. I just held him and told him everything will be OK and that there was nothing to worry about. I wasn't going anywhere. And I won't.
Later that night, after feeling crabby most of the afternoon, I got angry, really angry at the kids for appearing to ignore me. Of course, I was over reacting, but I still lost it. And the poor kids copped it. Later when we'd all calmed down and I'd apologised, my daughter told me, in a round about way, that the thing that frightened her the most was that if I got angry enough, for long enough, I'd end up leaving (again). My poor kids. I know it's hard for them, having a mummy like me, who's loving and soft one minute and an unstable shithead the next. I'm sure sometimes they wish I was different. I do too, but I'm not. I am me, moods and all. And while I try to control them, I know that at times, they will get the better of me and things will happen that we'd rather all forget. But I'm not going anywhere. None of us needs that, expecially the kids. The consequences of leaving last time still haunt me in the baggage that appears in our daily lives and conversations - "...but you left last time..."
I'm NOT going anywhere, not for a weekend, a week or a month. I am coming home at Christmas, with the two kids in tow and I will save my money and yearnings for a holiday for that time.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
My (not) busy life and other things
I love being busy - it helps the mood swings. If I don't have time to think, I can't meltdown! I can honestly say I'm not busy enough. But not being busy gives me time to reflect and blog. It's good to have that as well. Time. Everyone says they don't have enough but I do and I know I'm lucky for it. Today (Thursday) is usually a busy day in the afternoons. I don't have housework because the cleaner comes in the morning. In the afternoon, I have two sessions with my young students at home, then I pick up the kids, get dinner on the way home then go out to teach English while ex minds the kids, then I'm home by 9pm and free again, except for a bit of clearing up after dinner.
Ex came back from his weekend away, firstly depressed and tired then more upbeat and motivated after a really long sleep. I didn't realise he was feeling down, he didn't say anything and just seemed a bit quiet. He's not a publicly emotional guy and doesn't really understand why other people need the rest of the world to know how they are feeling, so it's hard to read him. The break seems to have done him some good though, so I'm glad for that.
The kids' chinese tutor started with them this week. I want son to be able to understand what everyone around him is saying and daughter needs some help with the chinese homework. She seems quite nice and capable of understanding what the children's needs are, so we'll see if she works out. When the kids are settled into a routine with her, I'll get her to teach me some of the chinese words I need to know. Hopefully in time, I'll begin to understand some chinese and even be able to speak a little. I'm very self conscious when I'm speaking another language, which makes it more difficult to learn. Still, I want to try.
My English class starts on Saturday. I'm a little nervous. The theory is that when kids are immersed in language, they pick it up. It worked with my daughter and I'm hoping on a smaller scale that it will work with my English class as everything we do will be in English. I'm going to read, talk, play games, get them to write a little at first (a lot later on) and do grammar and vocab exercises with them. I hope that by exposing them to books, words, sentence structure and the opportunity to use English, that they will 'acquire' it in a more natural manner. Most kids here, by 5 or 6 have been exposed to some English, but they don't get the opportunity to use it, so they just pick up the local community English which is based on a direct Chinese to English translation. Good English it's not. So that's what I'm aiming for. Sounds good when I talk about it, looks good on paper, I have the resources, so I don't know why I'm nervous.
Tomorrow the tutor is coming for another session of Chinese and in the afternoon I'm out at the autistic centre where I'll do some assessments and I want to show the teachers how to do a cooking session. Cooking is great fun with special ed kids, so we'll see how it goes. We're going to make french toast because it's easy and tasty. I'm starting with a very small group of two kids who I know quite well and we'll build on from there. Should be fun. Then it's off for some shopping and preparing for the English class.
Oh yes, I must 'top up' my phone. It's a prepaid thing, so I have to use up the money i put in it whether I want to or not. This time I didn't use it up in time so it expired. I just didn't have time to call home much this week. It's funny, a prepaid phone reminds me of those people who can't really afford a mobile phone (like the indonesian maids here) so they get a prepaid deal and they always run out of money so they can never call you back. If I think about it, it makes me feel like such a loser, but hey, if I want to get a post paid number, I need a RM 1500 deposit. No thanks, I'd rather feel like a loser (and know I am not).
Nighty night!
Ex came back from his weekend away, firstly depressed and tired then more upbeat and motivated after a really long sleep. I didn't realise he was feeling down, he didn't say anything and just seemed a bit quiet. He's not a publicly emotional guy and doesn't really understand why other people need the rest of the world to know how they are feeling, so it's hard to read him. The break seems to have done him some good though, so I'm glad for that.
The kids' chinese tutor started with them this week. I want son to be able to understand what everyone around him is saying and daughter needs some help with the chinese homework. She seems quite nice and capable of understanding what the children's needs are, so we'll see if she works out. When the kids are settled into a routine with her, I'll get her to teach me some of the chinese words I need to know. Hopefully in time, I'll begin to understand some chinese and even be able to speak a little. I'm very self conscious when I'm speaking another language, which makes it more difficult to learn. Still, I want to try.
My English class starts on Saturday. I'm a little nervous. The theory is that when kids are immersed in language, they pick it up. It worked with my daughter and I'm hoping on a smaller scale that it will work with my English class as everything we do will be in English. I'm going to read, talk, play games, get them to write a little at first (a lot later on) and do grammar and vocab exercises with them. I hope that by exposing them to books, words, sentence structure and the opportunity to use English, that they will 'acquire' it in a more natural manner. Most kids here, by 5 or 6 have been exposed to some English, but they don't get the opportunity to use it, so they just pick up the local community English which is based on a direct Chinese to English translation. Good English it's not. So that's what I'm aiming for. Sounds good when I talk about it, looks good on paper, I have the resources, so I don't know why I'm nervous.
Tomorrow the tutor is coming for another session of Chinese and in the afternoon I'm out at the autistic centre where I'll do some assessments and I want to show the teachers how to do a cooking session. Cooking is great fun with special ed kids, so we'll see how it goes. We're going to make french toast because it's easy and tasty. I'm starting with a very small group of two kids who I know quite well and we'll build on from there. Should be fun. Then it's off for some shopping and preparing for the English class.
Oh yes, I must 'top up' my phone. It's a prepaid thing, so I have to use up the money i put in it whether I want to or not. This time I didn't use it up in time so it expired. I just didn't have time to call home much this week. It's funny, a prepaid phone reminds me of those people who can't really afford a mobile phone (like the indonesian maids here) so they get a prepaid deal and they always run out of money so they can never call you back. If I think about it, it makes me feel like such a loser, but hey, if I want to get a post paid number, I need a RM 1500 deposit. No thanks, I'd rather feel like a loser (and know I am not).
Nighty night!
Monday, February 2, 2009
Days pass and I'm OK now.
Gee, days pass quickly don't they. The last time I wrote, it was Friday afternoon and I wasn't feeling so good. Now I look back, I could have predicted Saturday's colossal meltdown. I'd just had enough of everyone and everything and I spiralled crazily into to the depths of BPD madness, which I haven't had for quite a while, I think, though I know I've been close. It was a black day.
The trigger this time was of course, the news that ex was going away for the weekend but it never starts on the day. There's a build up of little, seemingly unimportant incidents. The imagined slights, the need to be hugged (that's always a huge warning sign) which is like a persistent ache, the snipey remarks and the whirl of hate-love-hate thoughts about ex that go around in my head, all signal a meltdown. Then I find myself in my room, crying, hating, getting angry, then feeling sorry for myself, then hating myself. It's cringeworthy stuff and I loathe myself for allowing it to happen but at the same time, I accept that it will happen occasionally - it's a part of me.
It's physically painful for my head when I'm like this and often triggers off a headache that takes a day or two to subside. I took xanax when I realised that I wasn't able to stop the thoughts from taking over, and although it was too late, it calmed me a little. You'd think with all the damn self help books I'd read, I'd be able to stop it, but this thing's like a drug. It pulls you in and you want to feel the pain, just to feel (if that makes sense) and then you want someone to come save you so you feel better and the pain can be replaced by affection and warmth and you feel loved and important, because someone is paying attention to you - a massive payoff for bad behaviour!!!
But now, that someone doesn't do that anymore. When he used to do it, it only increased the chances of it happening again. He bought into the whole 'save me' thing and only got slapped in the face for it when I moved away. Needless to say, he has stopped buying into that behaviour, whether I (or my ego) like it or not. Now that he doesn't give me what I want, when it does happen, the craving for affection and attention is worse, which is why I take xanax because then the craving is stopped in it's tracks. No craving, no meltdown, no problem! Simple. Sound like an addiction? it feels like one. When I've recovered, I can never understand why I want it so badly and often ask myself, why would I want something that I think is so awful. I can never give myself an answer.
This doesn't happen nearly as often as it used to and doesn't last as long either, which I'm grateful for. After Saturday was over, I still managed to take the kids to Malacca and get what I needed there and we had a fun day. I still managed to get them ready for school today. I'm feeling better today, though I've still got a headache. So it's time to rest up because I'm working tonight and have the kids and a few more things to take care of later in the day.
Ugggh, I exhaust myself.
The trigger this time was of course, the news that ex was going away for the weekend but it never starts on the day. There's a build up of little, seemingly unimportant incidents. The imagined slights, the need to be hugged (that's always a huge warning sign) which is like a persistent ache, the snipey remarks and the whirl of hate-love-hate thoughts about ex that go around in my head, all signal a meltdown. Then I find myself in my room, crying, hating, getting angry, then feeling sorry for myself, then hating myself. It's cringeworthy stuff and I loathe myself for allowing it to happen but at the same time, I accept that it will happen occasionally - it's a part of me.
It's physically painful for my head when I'm like this and often triggers off a headache that takes a day or two to subside. I took xanax when I realised that I wasn't able to stop the thoughts from taking over, and although it was too late, it calmed me a little. You'd think with all the damn self help books I'd read, I'd be able to stop it, but this thing's like a drug. It pulls you in and you want to feel the pain, just to feel (if that makes sense) and then you want someone to come save you so you feel better and the pain can be replaced by affection and warmth and you feel loved and important, because someone is paying attention to you - a massive payoff for bad behaviour!!!
But now, that someone doesn't do that anymore. When he used to do it, it only increased the chances of it happening again. He bought into the whole 'save me' thing and only got slapped in the face for it when I moved away. Needless to say, he has stopped buying into that behaviour, whether I (or my ego) like it or not. Now that he doesn't give me what I want, when it does happen, the craving for affection and attention is worse, which is why I take xanax because then the craving is stopped in it's tracks. No craving, no meltdown, no problem! Simple. Sound like an addiction? it feels like one. When I've recovered, I can never understand why I want it so badly and often ask myself, why would I want something that I think is so awful. I can never give myself an answer.
This doesn't happen nearly as often as it used to and doesn't last as long either, which I'm grateful for. After Saturday was over, I still managed to take the kids to Malacca and get what I needed there and we had a fun day. I still managed to get them ready for school today. I'm feeling better today, though I've still got a headache. So it's time to rest up because I'm working tonight and have the kids and a few more things to take care of later in the day.
Ugggh, I exhaust myself.
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