Delivery

Hanging preschooler sized pants on the line
On a sunshiney lockdown day

Brrrrmmmmm
The postie bike stops at my gate

Through he comes with two big packages
“I’ll just put these here”

They sit by the door
As I continue my dance with the endless laundry cycle

I pick them up on my way inside
One, a bundle of online fast fashion for the teen

The other addressed to me
Flat, registered, with stiff cardboard inside

My graduation certificate and testamur
Just like that

Ten years of isolated online toil
Solo parenting, working so many jobs

My Masters degree has been conferred in hi-vis
From the other side of the laundry basket

Not a mortarboard in sight
But what beautiful weather for Graduation Day!


M & E

I hardly feel like writing

I barely bother to read

Scroll
Scroll
Scroll

Wanting to be fed
by the feed

Knowingly wading through
the mire that
saps my soul

Overriding self-imposed time limits
In a tacit agreement
to self-destruct
so that
in arriving at that nihilistic state of

I Hate Everything

I am humbled into remembering
that

Meditation and Exercise
are my true salvation.

The day is calling me.

Put down the phone.


‘Click’.

(C) 2021

It’s ok

Actually
It’s so totally ok
That I’m tired

It’s a massive job
Being a human

It’s a massive job
Being a parent
To small humans


The world is in utter turmoil


So much doesn’t make sense


Our innately, exquisitely intelligent children can see this so clearly


And they know


They know how to pull us back to the truth of our reality


They know how to pause in wonder at
birdsong, starlight, new fungi


They know how to play


They know how to feel


They know how to take their sweet time



What they don’t know
is how fucking uncomfortable it is
to be stretched across the chasm of their knowing of what’s real
and our adult bondage to
the bullshit reality of late-stage capitalism



It’s so totally ok that I’m tired

Copyright 2021

The illness and some cures

I’m sick of people referring to their kids as little terrors or monsters. Of expecting their 6 month old babies to self soothe. Of asking for advice on how to be able to get their kids used to less human connection.

I’m sick of seeing babies in prams with screens in front of them. I’m sick of hearing parents use power-over and fear tactics with their children. I’m sick of crappy gender stereotyping through clothes and toys.

I’m sick of parents asking on parenting groups about what “stuff” to buy for their kids.

I’m sick of the chilling impact on the early years of human life that capitalism and ecological terrorism is having. I’m sick of the pressure that keeping on top of basic living costs is putting on parents.

I want to see a world where parenting is regarded as THE most important job. Where the people doing it are supported financially and by community to do it to their best ability. Where everything we know about secure attachment, neuropsychology, and our deepest needs for love and belonging, informs the core motivation of how we raise our children.

I want to see extreme overhauls of our education systems so that teachers are upheld to support the biologically wired, natural and beautiful blossoming of innately intelligent, good, active humans.

I want to see a medical system that supports families to have great nutrition, sleep, and spiritual support before labels and prescriptions.

I want to see a world where we understand the value of unstructured time together. The value of parents having time to breathe, alone with themselves. The value of free play.

I want to live in a world where we know that we’re all in this together.

Not a big ask. And I know I’m not alone in this wish.

International Women’s Day

Grateful this

International Women’s Day

For my:

💜right to vote

💚reproductive freedom

💜access to education

💚freedom to marry who I choose, and to not marry at all

💜property rights

💚freedom to work

💜ability to gather with other women

💚daughters being raised in a time when they know their voices are powerful

💜independence

💚freedom to dress as I choose

💜feminist allies of all genders

💚fire in my belly

💜certainty that we will continue to be part of more and more positive change until systems operate from a basis of true equality for all people all over the world

💚ultimate mother, our planet Earth

💜great fortune at living in a time when so much hard work has already been done to make it possible for me to list all these things safely

💚privilege, and my awareness that I can use it to bust oppression

Attend your local IWD Rally! Gather in solidarity to celebrate and agitate!

On striving

“Good better best, never let it rest, until your good is better, and your better best”.

Urgh. I wasn’t in scouts or whatever place this ditty comes from. But I was in a dysfunctional family with a judgy single mum who used to say this, and busted her nut to put me through dance training.

Ballet brain.

That conditioning instilled from early childhood that there is always more trying to be done.

So I’m 40. I’m raising a teen and a toddler. The teen is home schooling.

I’ve been admired, adored, adulated, and very bloody good in every job I’ve ever worked.

And yet, amongst all the life work I’m already doing, I’m trying to complete a Masters degree.

Why?

It’s hard work. It’s indoor, screen based work, on days where I put the little one into care, when the days outside beckon me into them, with garden chores, bird conferences, and subtle shifts in the breeze, all waiting to shower me with the joy of being alive.

But here I sit, generating feelings of inadequacy, panic, fatigue…

for what?

I am already great. I believe this.

I am already contributing.

I am already employable.

I am already tired.

I am already tired.

I have worked hard enough for long enough.

This one does not spark joy today.