The Cerebral Mum

Just because of some recent discussions I’ve had, I’m thinking about these things…

I choose truth over tact.

I choose independence over companionship.

I choose the hare over the tortoise.

I choose the mind over the body.

I choose ideas over people (whom, to be honest, I often understand - and dissect - as ideas).

I choose voice over silence.

I choose change over peace.

I choose comprehension over empathy.

I choose loss over anger.

I choose intent over action.

I choose loyalty over trust.

I choose the sky.

And winter.

Either path is both right and wrong.

I have never believed that you can have, or be, everything.

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I thought that it was time I send another “I exist, but…” post.

I’m still in the in-between and looking for an apartment, which has been demoralising so far but I am remaining optimistic. However, as the post title says I do seem to have the attention span of a gnat, so those of you who see me on Facebook while my feed is silent, that is why. Facebook and gnats go well together.

Actually, I am being mentally bombarded with ideas of what to write about, but I just can’t seem to sit still. Or I can, but only while doing mindless things, like playing Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on my new Wii.

Yup, with my newfound lack of poverty I have invested in an entirely luxurious useless piece of technology. And to be honest, I mostly got it so I could use Wii Fit. Mum bought one when she was here and, as limited as it is, it turned out to be exercise I actually do.

And I never exercise.

I have also invested in a fab new camera. This one…

…which absolutely rocks. Caspar picked the colour, but Lightening, if you’re reading, there is definitely one that makes me think of you.

I also bought that Eee PC that I wanted for my birthday. Well, not exactly the same one. I got the new 10″, Pearl White, instead of the 7″…

Because every inch makes a difference.

Unfortunately, I can’t make the most of it until I’ve relocated and set up a wireless account. The ISP I’m considering doesn’t service this hellhole locality. Even more unfortunately, I stupidly left it within reach of the boy. Who promptly broke 7 keys off the keyboard. (I wonder if that will be covered under the warranty?)

In other indulgent news, I have been out TWICE since selling the house.

AT NIGHT.

WITHOUT CHILD.

On those outings I discovered that I no longer have the alcohol tolerance I built up in my years of working in bars.

But more about that another day.

Love to all, from your absent friend.

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I know that Monday’s Child is usually a photo, but to catch everyone up on Caspar, words are required, not a picture.

He is talking. A lot.

And very well considering.

Now is the time that I am supposed to be taking him to see a speech pathologist (which is another thing on my current to-do list) for an assessment and, because of his cleft palate, speech therapy was something that I expected to be part of our lives for quite some time. Now, I’m not so sure. The way he is going I can’t imagine that he will require anything more than a little monitoring.

To my untrained ears there doesn’t seem to be any evidence of a lisp or a nasal quality - common difficulties with a cleft - or any indication that his language skills have been affected by those first nine months of hearing difficulties before he had his surgery. (Seeing the audiologist for a checkup is another job on my list but he knows there is an aeroplane nearby before I do, so I think his hearing is better than mine.)

The clarity and intelligibility of his speech is better than some older children I know. (Of course, that could be because he’s mine so the speech pathologist gets to give her educated opinion.) His vocabulary is good too, well and truly in the triple figures and increasing every day. That, however, is somewhat sobering because occasionally I talk like Magneto Bold Too writes (I blame working in hospitality - Gordon Ramsey is not an anomaly) and on Thursday, one of those new words was “Fuck”. My friend and I managed not to laugh and I, sarcastically innocently, said, “I have no idea where he picked that up”.

And last week he brought me his Schleich (I love Schleich!) velociraptor and when he handed it to me he said, “Raptosaurus”. I thought that was genius. For him to be unsure of the exact word, but to categorise the figurine correctly and to choose an appropriate word ending…

In all seriousness, the way humans acquire language is a beautiful and amazing thing.

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On Thursday I officially became a non-homeowner. So now there is no mortgage to pay and no more borrowing money from Peter to pay Paul. And one huge sigh of relief.

I probably could have written about this sooner, before settlement, before the money was there on paper, but things had really been coming down to the knife’s edge and I - for want of a less superstitious phrase - just didn’t want to jinx it.

Now, it’s a crippling stress gone from my life, and things can finally move forward.

I sold the house to Big Sis and her B who - fabulous news! - have a little boy due in November. Cas and I remain here in Big Sis’ house which, when I find an apartment, they will renovate and rent out. In the meantime, with Big Sis gone, there is no more broadband connection, so I’m temporarily reduced to a pre-paid dialup account and won’t be online as much as I would like in order to get all my blogs running as they should.

But I will be back to full strength at some stage in the near future.

I’m still packing boxes although, barring the kitchen, I’m really now just down to the dregs. I have a few debts still to pay off, when the cheque finally clears, and I am applying for passports so that, finances permitting, Cas and I can have a brief holiday in New Zealand and he can finally meet his Grandad (my natural father). It seems like I still have a million things to do so if I sound hesitant rather than euphoric, that is why. But once I’m finally resettled, well, then I will truly feel free.

I did have a celebration though. It just so happened that one of my oldest friends was staying over on that Thursday night because she had training the next day in the city, so we went out for dinner and ate oysters and drank champagne. And then got pulled over by a booze-bus* on the way home (my first time ever) so it’s a good thing the champagne was a glass rather than a bottle!

And the very next morning, I went to the hairdressers’ for the first time in two years. (And that time, it was a present from my Mum.) This was after a month of working out my angst on my hair at home - bleaching, dyeing , hacking - so I now have a chic, shorter do and healthy, shiny hair. (I’ll put up a picture when I can, although I still haven’t even managed a photo of my new glasses from the beginning of the year yet. One of the difficulties of being a single Mum is not having anyone else to hold the camera.)

What else? Uni, you ask? How is that going? Well, it kind of went belly up. With Big Sis in her first trimester at that stage, and with her back problems (she has had spinal surgery and there are limits to what she can do), having her mind Caspar while I went to class became a problem, and then I was ill myself. So I have taken this semester off in order to find somewhere to live - somewhere which doesn’t entail a six hour round trip to get to class - and will be starting over again in the summer.

All in all, things are happening. And things are good. And I’m looking forward to beginning a new chapter very soon. The cage door has been unlocked and, soon, I will be walking out of it.

Love and hugs to all of you who’ve stuck around.

XX

*For non-Aussie readers, a “booze-bus” is what the police use to set up roadside random breath tests to check drivers’ blood alcohol levels.

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Soooo… Mum changed her flight schedule and arrived Thursday morning, which entailed a 5am drive to the airport which, living out on the peninsular, is at the opposite end of the earth. But all my work with Caspar, trying to get him excited about Oma coming on an aeroplane, paid off because he went running toward her as she emerged from customs.

After a couple of days catching up, last night I went to bed early and slept late and then we spent the day out visiting friends and family and now I am gloriously tired and not planning on writing very much more than this.

Did I say I had more important, meaning-of-life stuff to talk about?

Er… Not today.

But I do think this constitutes a Smiley Saturday post. Because I’m smiling.

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Honestly. I’m drawing a blank.

Why is it when I’m away from the blog for a while, I feel like I need to post everyday kind of news and “catch up” rather than just write about something more important or interesting to me? There are many things I’ve been thinking about lately - you know, the meaning of life and all that - but I feel like I need to ease back in. Perhaps it has something to do with connection and relating. Because most often it is those we share the mundane parts of our lives with who matter the most, and it is the people we share that with who care about our more difficult thoughts.

Isn’t it? Maybe. I really have no idea.

The problem is… I am terrible at small talk. The fact that I call it small talk is a probably a problem in itself. I don’t have any idea what to say. Nothing seems pressing enough for words and when time has lapsed, “catching up” is a strain. For me, anyway.

I have friends who can draw out the minutiae of life from the postman. Friends who remember little things and make them significant. Who make the minutiae of other people’s lives significant. It’s a social skill I admire and one I lack entirely. In some ways, this is probably due to a certain kind of selfishness or vanity or… whatever. I guess it’s that artistic arrogance I talked about once. I would probably feel worse about it if my own lack of social skill wasn’t balanced by a lack of expectation of it in others.

I’ve never minded if people don’t call me regularly or remember my birthday. Hell, I’d forget my own birthday if other people didn’t remind me. Half the time I couldn’t tell you what month it is. But everyone has their limits, I guess, and there are friends who have gone MIA when I’ve forgotten the way this social stuff works. Friends who have minded when I haven’t called.

My guess is that a blog is kind of the same. That readers are the same as friends, and some people’s ropes are longer than other’s.

Right now, in real life, I probably have some repair work to do on a couple of relationships that I do value because I have been MIA myself for a long time. There are calls to make and questions to ask. And I’m terrible at asking other people questions about their lives. Mostly, I just appear unexpectedly and assume that things will be the same. That isn’t always the case.

But I also have friends who know exactly how selfish useless I am and love me anyway so I guess it is all okay.

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Yes, a rare photo of Cas AND his Mum.

We went to see The Medieval Imagination exhibition at the State Library a little while ago with a couple of friends; Brett from Airminded, and HG, who wrote that beautiful guest post for me. That meant there was somebody other than me to hold the camera and that is, I think, one of the best presents you can give a single parent.

In other news…

I haven’t been very well, hence my long absence.

I haven’t been very well, hence 1st semester uni was really screwed up. I’ll do better next time.

A girlfriend gave me her old car. Hooray for being able to grocery shopping with ease! (And see friends at the State Library). The car is sadly purple but my friend still rocks, obviously.

We’ve received some parcels for WinterWarm, which is also great, and I’ll be working on some blog posts for that this week.

There is a couple of other (possible) good news items but I don’t want to jinx them so… we’ll see.

And my Mum will be visiting soon which means I will get to have a sleep in for the first time in a year.

I’ll also be able to get to see my doctor, with Mum babysitting and me in my shiny, purple car. So hopefully health won’t be an issue for much longer.

Hugs to everyone I’ve abandoned and I will be trying to catch up with you all soon.

xx

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