I was reading here about how drjennys friend Sue had rewritten their friendship to justify some really bad behaviour and it got me thinking.

I grew up in a very sad house. I won’t use the word dysfunctional because that just brings to mind the Simpsons and we were nothing like that. It was sad for so many different reasons….

I learnt from an early age that sometimes it wasn’t safe to be near my Mum and therefore my Dad because of their arguing. I learnt that if I went to Dad he would cop a mouthful and that would make me feel bad. So I stopped going to him, to protect him, us. I know my Dad loves us all and always will but he has always had a lot of trouble showing us and I think it had something to do with Mum’s jealousy. If he showed us affection it meant she was missing out maybe. I don’t know but it is sad. She would have these fictious pimples on her that needed to be squeezed or worse a piece of glass in her foot, hand, head that we needed to get out. The hours I spent with a needle in hand to relieve her of the fucking thing that wasn’t there. She still demands that of me now but as an adult I can say no. Oh, she will get the shits no doubt but I can’t go back to that place where she has yelled and screamed at me incoherently for hours and then demands I touch her.. heal her.. FUCK OFF.
I remember laying in bed at night and putting my favourite cuddle toy under the bed because they only fought when he was with me, so therefore it was Tommy the turtles fault. I was, I don’t know about 8 or 9 but they had been fighting for years and continued to do so for many more. Only verbal at that point but all night nearly every night in a small house. Some nights Tommy would be allowed back out because I rationally realised a stuffed turtle can’t cause this turmoil but in my young mind that’s all I could accept.

There were 4 of us kids and we were terrified. I was the eldest and very early I tried to protect my sisters and brothers. WE would huddle together and end up falling asleep together in the one bed.

The arguing continued and escalated until it became physical, my Dad was physically abused by her along with the rest of us. This was way before the term spousal abuse meant the male was the abused. Not to mention the emotional/mental abuse.

I remember being late home one day. Something which I knew was a no no but my lift made a detour, out of my control. I wish he hadn’t but he did and my girlfriend and I were about 40 minutes late home from school, this is way before the days of mobile phones and where we lived there weren’t many public phones either so I couldn’t communicate to Mum that I would be that relatively short time late. By the time I got home my Mum was in a rage, absolute rage. Within seconds I was cowering in the corner of the kitchen while she proceeded to throw all the crockery in the cupboard at me. Then I was to pick myself up so that we could make an outing to visit her friend. I had to be the perfect daughter, all smiles and politeness while I was screaming inside ..

I still wonder what this was supposed to teach me. What I did learn is not to trust her more and to a degree today I still don’t. I don’t trust her with me and therefore my kids. No, I don’t keep them away from her but they are never left in a position where they can cop it and if she starts she goes through me. I will fight to the death to protect mine and she knows I am in that place. She knows my allegiance is to me and mine and I know that sometimes that gets to her.

Now this is obviously written from my point of view. I would like to say I have embellished it for your benefit but I haven’t. It has obviously still affects me as this happened 23 years ago. Now my Mum who I love and always will warts and all shifted interstate with my siblings not long after this. I was accused of trying to get them all to stay which obviously didn’t work because they went with her, I don’t remember doing this but I accept that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, in my heart I hope I fought for them so they wouldn’t have to continue living in that pain. The pain I knew by not moving with her I was free of. I do know after I moved in with my Dad who had walked away eventually I felt extreme guilt. I wasn’t going to be able to protect them anymore and that scared me.

So I would travel to visit my family and at times the hurt and fear would bubble up. I was still in fight or flight mode… always aware of the escape route even if it was internal.. to shut down I still am and do today. There have been times as an adult I have had to use the escape plan.

One day we started talking about my childhood and she had rewritten it. Doesn’t accept that she hurt us. Her version is so idealised and while she acknowledges things were rough at times she really takes no responsibility for what she did. I was so shocked and angry. I was asked to leave her house that day and I don’t think I would have ever gone back but 18 months later I fell pregnant with my eldest and she forgave me… what the fuck….. she forgave me …

So which version of my life do I believe? The fairy tale I wrote in my head? The reality which in all fairness is quite dim since I have such limited memories – I know I have shut out the painful memories and sadly that hasn’t left a lot to grasp onto? Or my Mums idealised version.. the rewritten version where we all lived happily except when things were a little rough… ?

I’m proud of who I am and I accept that she had a lot to do with that. But deep down I can still feel that terrified little girl and her fear and she still pops her head out to see if today is safe and thank God most days are.

I live everyday to make my kids happy and sure sometimes I fail but I know they won’t have huge gaps in their memories because they have to forget things to survive. If they forget something it will be because each adventure they have is so full that their brain is overloaded with fun.. not pain.

We learn very early that we have to do things to survive. I have a friend who was left with running away and living on the streets. I sometimes wonder what stopped me from taking that route myself. I don’t think it was the fear of what is out there because I was already a survivor. I think it was the fear of what would happen to my brothers and sister if I walked, what would she do with them because of me.

Five years ago I was talking about life with a friend. She had had a terribly hard childhood and as I listened to her stories I was angry for her as a child, I believe she was terribly abused. We both cried for the little girl who she had left behind and how she had pulled herself out of some pretty deep pits. Months later we remembered the chat and she asked about my childhood and it wasn’t until afterwards when she went home which was just around the corner thanks goodness that I felt bereft. I sat there for a couple of hours realising the difference between her story and mine was minimal. She came back and found me still sitting in the same place. She had realised the same thing after she had gone home and needed to come back and check on me. To this day I am so glad she did. I was an abused child but had never thought of myself in that light. Now I allow myself to be angry for the child in me. The pain she endured and the skills she learnt to survive.

That child isn’t doing so bad now.

She learnt that to survive you have to do more than duck the blows, the attacks and she has learnt to live, laugh and love every single day and she does … I do.

Of course I’m sure ALL women are like me when I flop my boobs out in public for my little pumpkin to have his tucker I take off my shirt to bare all to everyone.

I fiddle with my other boobie and squirt the milk at the passers by so they ALL know exactly what I’m doin’.

Some days I just strip on down to near nothing and just let it all hang out. My baby belly is still hangin there so I share that as well. FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

So I tried to make a point on a blog a minute ago about breastfeeding in public but I stuffed up big-time and pushed send before I made the point I wanted to make so I have come to my home where I can rant and rave about something true to my heart. So I will start again.

This all started after reading about facebook deleting an image of a woman breastfeeding. You know facebook. The paedophiles best friend.. yeah that’s all I reckon it is… and there are no offensive topics there at all but this one with a mum tandem feeding her kids has the pic taken off.. BULLSHIT

For the life of me I don’t get the arguments that keep going around about breastfeeding.

Ok folks this is my opinion. Mum to 3, I breastfed them all till they were 2, some of you will get all uhh and ughh but you know what FUCK YOU.. Those times are irreplaceable. These are the times that primal bond is made with your child and I feel sorry for the Dads out there because they don’t get that part. They have other magic moments with their child but not that bond between mother and baby. That is when the mother tiger in us is born and we learn our place.. We will KILL to defend our cub.

Anyway, It isn’t about my right to breastfeed in public. Oh I know that all the do gooders out there will browbeat me with a verbal rolling pin but come on folks. It is never about a woman’s right to breastfeed in public. No it is never about that.

It is about the child’s right, that defenseless baby. Our future leaders right to nutrients wherever they are at that moment their body decides they need said nutrients.

It make me sick to the stomach the way the women’s libbers, old farts- be they male or female, easily offended christian right, left or whoever gets that bee in their bonnet about a woman lifting her shirt a little to let their bub suckle.

The womens libbers come feminists (yeah that sounds better NOT) put it down the rights of the woman…. WRONG

Old farts – be they male or female.. life has progressed past the dark ages and we should feel safe and capable to fulfill our roles as God meant with our bodies the way they are designed

My example in red above is something I have never seen, breast feeding is too special to denigrated to that level. I have seen and been one of those women embarrassed because some friggin idiot has looked down upon them, us, me. I have sat there in the heat of summer in a market place with my baby sweltering under a baby blanket because God forbid some idiot sees my boob, breast, tit, whatever….. I wish I could go back there now with my self confidence and sit there and smile at that old woman who glared at me… she couldn’t even see the baby but you just know it was up to no good there having his drink of milk.

WHY does part of society want to stick woman and child away in a closet until our vision isn’t disturbed by the nurturing of a child. To all those young mothers, first time mothers, older mothers, adoptive mothers get out there and do the right thing by your baby in the best and most comfortable way for both of you. Remember those same naysayers who look down upon you for breastfeeding in public will be the first ones calling child services if you ‘neglect’ your child which is basically what they want you to do by making a baby wait till it is convenient.. they want you to start the starvation process….. yep denying that baby his feed is doing just that. But you know you can always go and fill the pockets of the multinational baby-food companies who have spent millions making us women believe that they can do a better job than nature… payong experts to tell us breast isn’t best when we know it is.. all  BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT

SOCIETY is tearing away at the innate fabric of family at every chance it gets. The education systems around the world are in disarray, the medical systems. Employment is not conducive to family it is all gauged at big business and governments sucking the life out of the family. You wonder why kids are on drugs, to fill the void folks.. to fill the void. But a parent tries to fill that void and we are over protective – yep. AND we all know the very worst thing a parent can be is over protective. What the fuck is that…. I will be as protective as I need to be to keep my kids safe, to make them feel loved, to let them experience life to the absolute fullest in the best environment possible. I won’t lose my kids to drugs, suicide or worse and yes I believe their is alot worse out there… so yes PROTECTIVE I AM AND PROTECTIVE I’LL BE bbut you watch my kids grow up balanced and happy, fulfilled and excited by life…

So I propose a toast to all those families out there.. struggling to fill that void by having healthy pursuits with their kids. Scouting, camping, sporting, dancing, picnics, parties, reading, LIVING etc etc and the biggest yay to the HOME SCHOOLERS who have claimed back the ‘right’ to be a parent in every aspect of the word. But don’t let me start on homeschooling because I just know I won’t stop

DISCLAIMER while I believe that every child has that basic right to be breastfed I also understand not every mother can for many many different reasons. If you are one of those women I respect that and am not meaning any disrespect to you or your families, all I ask for is the respect to be reciprocated.

So I went out hunting and found some sites… http://mamamojo.wordpress.com/2007/09/12/breastfeeding-in-public-warning-offensive-content/

http://www.breastfeedingsymbol.org/2007/10/02/the-story-of-ranjit-chandra/

Anyways, I have been getting some help to get a resume together and wow… I actually have some skills. today we were talking about conflict resolution. Made me realise that sometimes I actually seek out conflict. No I don’t go out trying to thump anyone, that isn’t my style. I’m a runner not a thumper..well that’s the truth. I HATE conflict.. unless I initiate it of course.

I am justified, at least in my own mind with any conflict I start. Like that little chickie babes in the sports shop who was too interested in the cute guy she works with to notice the kid at the counter, money and goods in hand. . waiting and waiting to be served. Looked at, looked down upon and then ignored. Now that makes/made my blood boil.

Since when should a customer service person decide that a child isn’t capable of being a customer in their own right. If Mummy was there too the child would still get ignored, he can’t possibly be able to buy something all buy himself for crying out loud. So when I, the mummy walks back into the store and stands near the child this chickie babe instantly responds to my presence, all sweet and sticky, nauseous actually …. the kid is 11, standing on his own, no other customers and she doesn’t notice HIM!!

This is when I initiate the conflict.

I alert her to the fact the young boy is her customer, she looks down her nose again. Has not had any eye contact with him yet. She grabs the product off the counter and looks at me and tells me how much the purchase will be and puts out her hand. Anticipating that lovely cash sale. I hold back the money… thinking….. then I withdraw the money from her reach totally and inform her that would have been how much the store would have made if they had treated the customer with any degree of respect and that her customer would take his money and find the product at another store. All this I say in a quite voice ( I’m screaming inside though) with respect and with plenty of eye contact.
The poor darling was so shocked and then she made the BIG mistake and told me she was soo sorry I was having a bad day. I laughed then …. asked her name and walked out telling her I was having a lovely day but I bet her boss would make short work of hers after I called and informed the company (a multinational sports company.. and I go straight to the TOP, always do, they aren’t interested in protecting a name in their company, to them the customer and the $ is the bottom line).

I left her jaw dragging along the ground and that cute guy actually winked at me as I took my bewildered child out of the shop while I explained to him that if someone can’t show him the respect he is due as a human being we don’t contribute to paying their wage that day.

Anyway we found a family owned, local sports shop and we were actually greeted as we walked in the door. Help was offered but not pushed on him when I mentioned he was the customer. He found a better product at a much better price and learnt the difference between good customer service and bad. He was just happy he had money left over to buy some lollies.. ah the innocence of a child… LOL

Was I out of place? Her mummy might have thought so but I can bet her boss was peeved to get a chat about that young lady and her lack of customer service skills.

Was the conflict worth my time and effort? Damn right it was. My kid was walking ten feet tall after the service he received  and the respect shown to him at the smaller local shop. I also praised them and we’ve been back 3 times for other purchases. Her boss knew I was impressed and I think he was too with the qualities she showed.

So that’s the type of conflict I start ……. I can live with that.

She stood me in her kitchen and along with her 17yo step daughter she stared at me with a look of disbelief.

Now I stood there waiting for a good 2 minutes, in that uncomfortable, bewildering silence while they stared at me and I looked from one to the other. Eventually I gave in and asked what was the bloody problem and then waited a bit more..lol

It seems that while laying in bed this morning Joh felt movement in her stomach. A flutter and then what she thought hmm.. that was a kick. So she asked her step daughter Kat what it felt like to her and she too thought hmm.. tis like a baby kicking. At this point I will mention that Joh is still breast feeding her 1 yo son but has had tender breasts lately, moodiness, food issues – off food she loves and eating other food ravenously, and is tired, really really tired. But she is also on the pill and has been having regular though heavy periods AND she has already given birth to 5 children so I think she knows what a baby might feel like.

So I am instructed to relax because I am needed to feel at the next moment she has these sensations again.

Well it happened and I did and after I burst out crying.. yes bawling.. I declared that yes that feels like a baby. (I myself have birthed 3 of my own so I feel I can safely say yep felt like a baby to me.. lol)

Now we pulled ourselves together, decided a pregnancy test would confirm the fact and then a dr’s appointment could be made.

BUT the test came up NEGATIVE????? What the! So now we are bewildered. For a baby to be moving he/she would have to be at least at a guess, 16 -20 weeks probably more so therefore would have a large amount of the pregnancy hormone which should be picked up by the test… so allowing for this to be a false negative she will try the test again tomorrow and see what happens… otherwise I think Joh may have an ALIEN inside her..

lol

Are you ready to meet the real me.

Not the hypocrite that the rest of my world gets to see the me I think they want to know.

Not the woman who tries to please everyone so they feel good about me.

♥

♥Meet ME♥

Married 3 kids born leader who is scared of people and the crap and how to deal with it. Sick of ingratitude and tired of trying to get my act together. At my age I really should have my act together.

Maybe I don’t have an act to get together.

Maybe I have no goals.

Maybe I used to have goals but after life starting beating me up I forgot what they were and now when I really want to succeed in life I don’t know what, how, where and all that shit. Maybe I’m just using excuses instead of moving forward. Something that I manage to help other people do but fail myself.

Something no-one knows about me….. In my spare time I designed a house. An Eco-house for a real family. A family that even though they may be busy and live in the suburbs of a largish city they can utilise the land they are on to house all their dreams. Room for the 2.3 or whatever amount of kidlets they say are the norm/average now. The cats, dog, sandpit, garden and even the livestock they might desire.. Goats, chooks…… butterflies, frogs..LOL (a girl can dream). One day I dream that I might see the house built. See maybe I do have my first goal… Build a house…my house.