Driving with teenage son #2
Me: I need something funny from you for my next Blog post, my readers love them Him: [Scathing glance sideways] Mum, I’m not your performing monkey
Me: I need something funny from you for my next Blog post, my readers love them Him: [Scathing glance sideways] Mum, I’m not your performing monkey
I heard ‘Almost17’ in the shower at 6am (we had to leave for the airport at 7); he soon came into my room fully dressed, with still-damp hair, where I lay in bed reading before getting up. Him: Move over Mum. Me: [Really??] OK Sweetie. [Sliding over, slightly stunned, but pretending I’m cool…] Him: Happy Mother’s Day. Me: Thanks. You know I think it’s a load of Hallmark crap don’t you, but that’s still lovely, thank you. Are you bringing me peppermint tea in bed? Him: No, I’m too tired. I didn’t get home from the party till 1am. *Rolls on his side away from me*. Spoon me Mum. Me: [REALLY??] OK Sweetie. [Spooning behind him, completely stunned, gingerly resting my arm on top of him and the quilt because, you know, I’m Cool…] Him: No, properly Mum, under the covers. Please let me sleep for another 15 minutes. Me: Sure honey… *Lie there holding my baby boy as he begins to twitch and dream, breathing deeply. For how many nights did I hold him until …
Yup, I just reached that sweet baby milestone, and want to honour all of you who’ve taken the time to read even one Post. I’ve always wanted to be a ‘writer’, ever since I worked out how to make a word on a piece of paper (I remember the moment; it was of course c-a-t). I felt like I’d made magic, and sometimes still do. When I write or read something poignant or visceral, I’m so grateful for my blessed life, where I can make Art in peace and safety, with a roof over my head and food in my belly. I’m going to donate $100 today to The Indigenous Literary Foundation here in Australia, whose mission is to provide language-appropriate books and reading classes to disadvantaged Aboriginal children in remote areas. I’m also going to eat a piece of cake. If I could share it with all of you, I would. Thank you so much for your support and love, gabrielle xxxxx
Ever wondered why some dates lead you to sex, romance, or even love, while others leave you cold? Have you dumped someone as soon as it got too intimate or demanding? Or endlessly analysed online messages, and started ‘deep & meaningful’ conversations, seeking reassurance? Alternatively, perhaps you’ve been happily committed to your ‘best friend’ for 20+ years, and have no idea what I’m talking about? Attachment Theory suggests that our experience of being parented deeply informs our neural pathways, which are committed to repeating familiar patterns- a genetic programming designed to keep us ‘safe’, close to the tribe, and able to navigate back to the cave easily. As I’ve said HERE before, after reading ‘Attached’, I know I’ve been happily Avoidant, and now at the ripe old age of 50, am trying to change that. This dog WILL learn new tricks! As I reflect on friends, past lovers and partners, of any gender, I use my body wisdom to remind me what dynamic we were in together: Holding me at arm’s length (as I did …
I love to dance. I’m a 5Rhythms woman, and blogged about it ages ago (incl a clip in France) HERE. I did 10 years of ballet classes, which I loved, although the best bit was pretending to be a cloud, twirling free around the long sunlit room. I goddamn LOVE Disco, and anything funky sets my feet a’tappin’ and my knees a’bouncin’. Last week at the Attachment course I’m doing, our teacher said: “Emotion is the music in the dance of adult intimacy”. My studious ears pricked up. Ooh, are we gonna dance? We all relish the heart-fluttering sweet ballad of new romance don’t we? Every love song making sense. Or the passionate, sweaty, sexy tango. But who wants to turn up for that surprise ear-bleeding death metal concert by Dispute, Stress and Shove? Not me thanks! That’s what conflict can be though. One minute you’re chatting over a cup of tea, or pushing your trolley down the aisle (I once dumped a boyfriend at the checkout. On my birthday. *sigh. I was young… But …
Him: “Mum, I’d like you to try and control some of your sassy replies; there’s no need to always be so feisty.” Me: [deep breathing through half a dozen sassy replies, and a proud Feminist rave about smashing the patriarchy] “Perhaps you could try choosing not to react to them?” Him: [after pausing for a moment to consider this] “But if you weren’t so sassy, I wouldn’t have to choose that, so nice try Mum, but it’s back to you I’m afraid.” *Disclaimer: longer post with statistics and his true Feminism HERE
I’m in a new relationship, and loving it. The ‘honeymoon phase’ of those first 3-6 months is in full swing, and utterly delicious. We all get addicted to that sweet rush of heady bliss, when neither of you can do any wrong, and the future rolls out rosy and calm before you… Until the first fight. Until that first shock of cold water on your love fire, sending the perfect daydream up in clouds of stinky steam. Ugh. We all hate it. We all dread it. We are all loathe to see the ‘other side’ of our Beloved: the one where they criticize or reject us; perhaps sulk or avoid; complain loudly or even yell about our suddenly-glaring faults. Ugh. I’m currently doing a 6-week course in Attachment patterns, common triggered behaviours, and security strategies for healthy relationship outcomes. One of the first things our teacher Anne said was this: ‘Conflict is essential for emotional growth and development; it’s how we manage it that matters.’ I felt like I let out my held breath. I …
… along our favourite sunset beach, talking. Somehow I lose the thread of the conversation (maybe it was yet another rave about surfing?), and tune out a bit. He suddenly says ‘Mum, what are you doing?’. I answer ‘Sorry Sweetie, I didn’t understand what you meant, so I started daydreaming…’ He replies, with that knowing sigh only teenagers can truly master: ‘Well, you’re not going to understand by not listening are you?’
Looking for romance or love? Interested in self- discovery? My blogging & life has been helped so much by reading ‘Attached’, which I recommended to L, and now here she is blogging about it as it applies to her online dating journey in San Francisco.
Before we go any further, are you up to date? Did you read Episode 6? Or do you need to start at Episode 1? Are you sitting comfortably? Then let’s begin. The ‘Like at First Sight’ date meeting: tick. The two hour Japanese lunch across the road that neither of us wanted to end: tick. The wandering around groovy film art exhibition, wondering if/when/who/how the first kiss: tick. The vintage clothes shopping (but each of us too shy to actually try stuff on): tick. The second-hand grimy bookshop browsing down a hardly-used art deco mall, wondering if/when/who/how the first kiss: tick. Press ‘Pause’. Now one of my readers asked me why I didn’t write ‘Love at First Sight’ in the last post Episode 6 HERE? Because it’s a cliché? Because I’m a sensible grown up 50 year old woman? Because it seems too soon? Because it can’t possibly be true? I’d say I’m a fairly loving, affectionate person; my son ‘almost17’ and I use the farewell phrase “Love you” most days for example, and at night before …