With Some Grace

Everyday Experiences, Lifelong Learnings

FYBF – Crazy Storms

By: mamagrace7123 Comments

If you live anywhere on the east coast of Australia, I hope you’ve survived this past week’s series of storms, winds and crazy tumultuous weather.

FYBF - Crazy Storm 3

We actually braved the torrential rain on Saturday night for a double date dinner. What were we thinking?

Peeling myself off the couch, get out of my sweat pants and make the effort to scrub up for a night out in the cold and rain.

Luckily, in the end, the food was great (Japanese fusion) and the company awesome (the only other couple I know who actually who think we’re still cool enough to want to hang out with us sans kids).

With the kids staying with G’ma that night, we drove the next morning to pick them up. Again, facing the relentless weather.

On our way home, we drove along the eastern suburbs beaches to survey the damage.

People were still out, getting their weekend walks in. Runners looking liberated albeit drenched.

FYBF - Crazy Storms 2

But I couldn’t help wonder about climate change. How did we go from marveling at the Indian summer, enjoying days of 25 degrees to the sudden fear of raging weather and floods?

FYBF - Crazy Storm

By no means am I an expert on the environment. However, something doesn’t feel quite right.

Yet, we’re not fully accepting the idea that it could possibly be the effects of climate change. The media keep talking like this extreme weather is rare, telling us this storm is a “Once in a lifetime” disaster.

I’m pretty sure I’ve already experienced three in the past ten years.

Even Leonardo Di Caprio – a staunch environmentalist – had to mention during his Oscar acceptance speech that the entire Revenant film production had to go as far as the southern tip of South America to find deep, heavy snow.

Or was he just dreaming that up too?

Maybe from now on, one off disasters will end up just the norm. Like the big arse trees in my neighbourhood fall flat on the main road.

FYBF - Crazy Storm 4

Or collapsed roads around the local wharf, deeming it unsafe.

FYBF - Crazy Storms 4

Is it just me? Or is something not quite right?

Were you affected by the storms? Do you believe in climate change?

With Some Grace

1. Follow With Some Grace.

2. Sign up to the awesome Digital Parents community ( if you haven’t already done so). DP was created by Brenda Gaddi who happens to be the creator of FYBF. She’s also created 4 gorgeous kidlets. In case you’d like to know. Or maybe not. But we’ll share that info just the same.

3. Add your post URL to the FYBF linky. Please only link up one post.

4. Grab the funky FYBF button and post it on your sidebar. Help spread the blogfloggin love.

5. Visit the blogs of your fellow FYBF’ers and share the comment love

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Grandparents and Gift Giving

By: mamagrace714 Comments

Calling my parents to let them know of our plans to see my parents over the Christmas break, they could barely contain their excitement. And it wasn’t so much over the actual visit but more to do with the delight of what they had bought for the kids.

“Just you wait until you see what we got you!” my mother would say to my twin sons in her sing-song voice, like she was dangling a huge carrot.

I would sigh in frustration but also with surrender. So many times, there were arguments about the constant giving of extravagant gifts – expensive remote toy cars, scooters. With every visit and special occasion the presents seem to just get bigger and flashier.

So when I saw the expensive bright shiny red Mini Cooper S “mini”cars – one for each twin – parked and waiting for my boys to ride them, I knew it was a losing battle. Grandparents and Giftgiving

Do I just give in now? Or do I mention to my parents, yet again how hard I try as a parent to keep my boys grounded and gracious; that presents such as these are not helping my cause at all.

Despite her son being the only grandchild, and spoilt accordingly by her mother, Tegan from Far North Queensland also thinks it’s important for a parent’s wishes to be respected by grandparents.

“My parents absolutely spoil my son but my mum always checks with me about the bigger stuff and if I say no, then she respects that.”

Let’s face it. Size matters.

South Coast mum of two, Jen recalls when she told her mum repeatedly to stick to small presents to cater to their small place.

Instead, her mum bought an entire toy kitchen set, including oven, stove and fridge, leaving very little left for their tiny lounge room.

Then there’s that little game of favourites. Sydney mum Stephanie fondly remembers her own mother and Nan spoiling her to bits.

However, when it comes to her own children, her mother has her two favourites and leaves the others out. Now teenagers, there’s sadly very little love between them and their inequitable grandmother.

Mrs P has a similar issue with her step mum who clearly goes OTT with her own grandchildren but sticks to a strict $50 limit with her step granddaughters.

Looking from a grandparent’s perspective, Denyse loves spending the time “seeking out of ideas and fun of putting the gifts together”. From movie vouchers to homemade envelopes with cash, the grandma of eight says, “I couldn’t be happier at how the each enjoy their surprises”.

Maybe my friend Donna, a Canberra mother of three is on to something.  Maybe it just comes back to remembering that with thelimited time we have with grandparents, their role is simply “to create amazing memories for us to remember for the rest of our lives.” And as Donna plainly put it “If that means to let them have the joy of giving, then so be it”.

Obviously, there are no ground rules that can be set for grandparents and gift giving. From most of the stories portrayed, they most likely wouldn’t pay attention to them anyway.

Besides, each family will have its own unique ideas and conflicting definitions of appropriateness. The different dynamics will also reflect this.

Maybe it’s not about losing the battle with grandparents. Maybe it’s just accepting the complications and knowing that like with most things – including the festive season – it’s all over before we know it.  Why spend precious time in angst?

Grandparents and Giftgiving

I reached an ultimatum with my folks. The boys get to keep their fancy little cars on the condition that 1) the contraptions stay at my parents’ place as we clearly have NO room and 2) these cars are also presents for their birthday coming up in January.

Deal? Deal.

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FYBF – The crazy ride with fear

By: mamagrace7149 Comments

“Oh my gosh!” my colleague exclaimed. “You SO have to read this!!!”

Her excitement was akin to discovering the true meaning of life.

All in one sweet novel.

Unlike countless others, it didn’t rock my world.

Eat Pray Love’s premise of “Woman losing herself then finding herself then (surprise, surprise) falling in love” was too clichéd.

Even, dare I say, selfish? Self-absorbed?

FYBF - The Crazy Ride With Fear

In Ubud, locals would tell me – thanks to Gilbert – Ketut Liyar, the mystical black magic man who predicted the“Love” in the novel – had turned into an overnight rockstar.

Thanks to Gilbert girl fans, his fortune telling sessions were suddenly booked out years ahead.

Years.

All hoping for a similar sexy Javier Bardem soul mate ending, no less.

I’m not sure what convinced me to attend her talk, “How to be creative” at the Opera House for the annual All About Women event.

FYBF - The Crazy Ride With Fear 3

Maybe I was lured by Alison from Talking Frankly’s charming powers. Or her enticing invitation to get tanked afterwards.

Anyway, despite what I thought of her book, when Gilbert took to the stage, barefoot, no less, this time I sat up and listened.

She spoke about fear. A lot.

The biggest hindrance of every person’s creativity.

We’re scared our work will be rejected.

Worried it isn’t perfect.

Upset that no one thinks it’s important enough.

Too frightened to try something new or challenging.

But we also give fear too much worth; holding it as precious and fragile.

We give more respect to fear than ourselves.

So we don’t achieve anything.

FYBF - The Crazy Ride With Fear 4

In whatever creative journey we take, fear will always claim its existence.

Like all crazy rides, we need to accommodate everyone on board.

We take note that it’s there, it’s trying to shake us up a little but we just don’t need let it get to the front seat.

As Gilbert says, “It can have a voice, but it doesn’t get a vote”

It was only fitting that Gilbert’s talk landed on International Women’s Day.

While there were poignant reminders of what’s holding me back, it clarified where my potential lies.

And yes, at the end of it all, there was wine.

FYBF - The Crazy Ride With Fear 2

 Do you give fear the front seat? When did you last tell it to back off? Eat, Pray, Love – yay or nay?

1. Follow With Some Grace.

2. Sign up to the awesome Digital Parents community ( if you haven’t already done so). DP was created by Brenda Gaddi who happens to be the creator of FYBF. She’s also created 4 gorgeous kidlets. In case you’d like to know. Or maybe not. But we’ll share that info just the same.

3. Add your post URL to the FYBF linky. Please only link up one post.

4. Grab the funky FYBF button and post it on your sidebar. Help spread the blogfloggin love.

5. Visit the blogs of your fellow FYBF’ers and share the comment love

 

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Polar Opposites

By: mamagrace7123 Comments

A few weeks ago, I caught up with an old friend from my days in Tokyo along with his wife.

Towards the end of my time there, our polar opposite situations took a big hit on our friendship.

He was happy and lovedrunk in a serious relationship, leaving (what I thought) little time to hang out with me, who – in stark contrast – was very single, lonely and emotionally unstable.

It’s been 10 years since I left Japan and since then, he and his wife moved on to New York. Being a Sydney native though, he makes annual homecomings.

He first got back in touch with me three years ago when I was still trying to get the hang of being a mum of twinnies.

A little reserved on whether I was still in the angry, unforgiving state we last left each other, he seemed secretly pleased that even without motherhood, things had changed.

How can anyone hold a grudge for that long anyway?

While our catchups are still sporadic, we’re warming up to each other again.

Yet, our situations are still very different.

He’s caught up in the fast pace lifestyle of “New Yaaaawk”, a huge success in the financial software industry, making bucket loads of money.

While happily married, there seems to be the unspoken decision to not have children.

Despite all this, he leaves his ego (and man, I remember he could have a biggun!) at the Big Apple and immerses himself in all that is good about his home country – the fresh air, the gorgeous sunshine, the laid back appeal of drinking a beer while watching boats on the harbour.

Polar Opposites

While taking a walk to burn off our hearty fish and chips lunch, the conversation of mental health came up. Mine, in particular.

I was taking a big risk. He could’ve easily slammed me and be done. But I went with my gut feeling, told him about my journey with depression, stress and anxiety and took a giant leap of faith in our friendship.

Initially shocked, he was sympathetic. While perhaps unaware of the stigma with mental illness, he let me educate him a little, gently letting the conversation be guided by what I had to say, actively listening, holding back judgement. Though, it seemed there wasn’t any to begin with. Just pure concern.

We recalled our time in Tokyo, especially the tough times I went through, explaining that it could’ve been quite possible that even back then, I was unwell, not just a grumpy lonely old cow.

And he got it. I even think he appreciated that I opened up, despite all these years of silence between us.

I used to be shit scared telling friends about the state of my mental health.

There’s just that huge fear of judgment.

What I’ve discovered, though is that talking about it is not only cathartic, it reassures me of who my true friends are.

You're only given a spark of madness

Trust me, for all of the many who have openly embraced my unhinged-self, there are those who don’t get it at all.

They get an immediate strike. Harsh and clinical?

No.

Just saving energy and emotion for those worthy of it.

But, I’m glad I’m talking. I need to put it out there. The more I do it, the more empowering it feels.

If you have concerns or seeking support regarding your mental health or someone close to you, call Lifeline (13 11 14) or beyondblue (1300 22 4636).

Joining Essentially Jess for another round of #IBOT!

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The Other Woman

By: mamagrace7126 Comments

The Other Woman

Circa. 1972 (?), this photo was taken when we were still in Indonesia.

The toddler with the full head of hair is yours truly.  Dad’s either making me eat that unidentifiable object I have in my hand or he’s trying to wipe grit off my face and what I’m holding is actually a cloth.  Knowing the grot in me, it was the latter.

Obviously it was our kitchen but who took it? I have no idea. Thank goodness their big fat finger didn’t completely ruin the picture.

That jovial lady in the background? Whom I seem to be staring at, is actually not my mother.

She was the other woman, Bibi Koya.

Koya was her name and Bibi is a term meaning “nanny”

Well, actually, it was a lose term because she was much more than that.

Living with us, she cooked and cleaned but above all, she was family.

Having been employed by my mum when my eldest brother was born, Bibi Koya stayed right up with us until we left for Australia. So, we’re looking at approximately 15 years of faithful service.

15 years of raising us 3 kids, while her own children and family were back in her hometown village, 4 hours outside of Jakarta.

When we left Indonesia, my aunty employed Bibi Koya so I was fortunate to still see her whenever I went back.

With each visit though, she was becoming weaker. Heavy set and with bad knees, she would shuffle around the kitchen, constantly wiping sweat off her face with her sarong.

In her spare time, she sat at the bottom of the stairs located between the kitchen and dining room, chewing away on beetle nut, staining her lips bright red turning her into a strange-looking clown.  When she was done, she’d spit it out in her little tin container.  It might sound gross but gee, I would watch her, completely fascinated.

She knew much more about our early childhood than what my mother did.

“Your eldest brother didn’t eat meat.”

She picked his vegetarian habits even back then.

“Your other brother only ate bread and drank milk.”

Nothing has changed.

“You, Grace.  You ate EVERYTHING! And you would sing and dance while doing it”

God, this woman was spot on!

Each time I saw her, she would say how much more “Western” I’d become; that there was nothing of the Indonesian left in me.  Words that would completely rile me up!

Partly because I knew she was right but mostly because I wished she wasn’t.

During the last time I saw Bibi Koya, she cried and cried as I packed my bags.

She told me not to forget my Indonesian nor my heritage and background.

A couple of years later, while living in Japan, dad called up to tell me that my aunty tried to visit Bibi Koya at her village but sadly she wasn’t there. Bibi Koya had passed away.

I wish I had the chance to say goodbye; to tell her how important and special she was to our family.

I’d also let her know that my Indo is perhaps scratchy but when it comes to remembering my roots, I’m doing okay.

Joining in the lovely ladies at The Lounge today for this weeks’ topic: “My Favourite Photograph” 

THE LOUNGE

Thanks to Tegan at Musings of the Misguided for hosting!

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Beloved

By: mamagrace7133 Comments

*Beep, beep*

Reaching over for the phone for the umpteenth text message in the past hour, the butterflies still tickle my tummy in anticipation.

“Think this guy’s the real deal,” I quietly but cautiously whisper to myself.  The smile that the brief, yet flirty message brings stays fixed on my face

He’s not going anywhere.  And neither is this elated feeling of happiness.

Ah, those early days of courtship; the excitement of a brand new love; the thrill in meeting your soul mate and dying to know every single detail about them.

But like with many married couples with a young family, the romance gets parked aside in the indefinite zone.

The predictability of domestic life takes over and while communication between you and your partner still exists, it’s all about how to function as a team.

The once seductive, spontaneous messages somehow transition themselves to this:

 Domestic Texts

 

Affection and love is still there.  It’s just sitting in the reserve tank for the moment.  Once in a blue moon evening you find the energy to stake a claim for it.

Last year, I met the lovely Mish.  Leaving the crazy pace of the corporate world, this bubbly and vivacious lady followed her love and passion for photography.

Serendipity nudged us to meet for coffee one sunny morning.  Somehere out there, the Universe knew that I needed a little emotional and spiritual lift in my life.

So, when Mish asked if Mr Surfer and I would be willing to take part in her Beloved Photography, specifically set to capture couples in their most natural settings, I quickly agreed.

I knew straight away that this photo session was going to be different.  Mish sent both of us a questionnaire to fill out in preparation.

It asked intimate, thought provoking questions like:

“When does your partner make you feel most loved?”

“What do you love most about your partner?”

“What are the 5 adjectives you would describe your beloved?”

And while these answers are embedded in the deepest parts of our hearts and our souls, they need to be resurfaced.

Beloved 1

To be reminded of those feelings of devotion and adoration; to have them articulated back to us.  The chance to return to base; floating back to that first day you fell in love.

While I knew it would be a special afternoon capturing some photos with Mr Surfer, I didn’t expect the outpour of emotion (and tears) in that beautiful, serene park.

The photo session was only an hour.  But because we had entrusted Mish with confidential information prior, the captured moments were as real and raw as they could ever be.

Mr Surfer and I agreed it felt like we were renewing our wedding vows.

Beloved 2

Not only do I have Mish to thank for producing some beautiful, timeless photos but for also giving us the opportunity to re-ignite all that love.  Assuring us that while the romance isn’t currently in commonplace, it hasn’t gone far.

In fact, it’s still very much there.  Stronger than ever.

***This isn’t a sponsored post. Mish is a personal friend and Mr Surfer and I agreed to do a complimentary photo shoot as part of her “Beloved Photography” series.  Photos from the session were also kindly provided.

You can find out more about Mish’s stunning work and all about Beloved Photography over at her website and blog.  You can also follow her on Facebook, and Twitter.

Joining the fantabulous Essentially Jess for IBOT

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