Trust Yourself - Five Years

( By Corbett Barr ) There will be an agreement in whatever variety of actions, so they be each honest and natural in their hour. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

What would you say to the person you were five years ago? What will you say to the person you’ll be in five years?

Me, circa late 2005/early 2006

Dearest 2006 Me - congratulations on getting the optical dispensing job. You were a little worried that you'd return from your year in the USA and not be able to find work, but it only took you 6 weeks. You will have to study, and towards the end of your course you will become a little disillusioned ( some of that old negativity creeping in... ) but dont fret - you pass the course, get your qualification and get licenced. You'll be very proud of yourself, and so you should be.
You wont be stuck at home with Mum and Dad forever either. You'll move out, then back in to save some cash, and the you'll buy a place of your own. This place will become your first family home - yes, despite how you feel right now, the way you get anxious and despair about ever having anyone to love you, you DO find someone. Or they find you, you're still not sure exactly how it worked.... but you find each other and fate deals the cards and you make yourself a fine little family. Your son is becoming quite the little person - he makes you proud, and you love him dearly. Just like your family love you.... dont ever forget that. You'll have your black moments where it all seems futile, but hold steady - it's all going to come good in time.
Enjoy SE Asia when you get there,
The 2011 You.

Future me? Maybe... image from here

Dearest 2016 Me - How are things? Here's how i hope they are - i hope you have a happy marriage; that you have at least two beautiful children ( one more than you currently have ); that you find a better job than you have now and are content in your work; and i hope that you've sold your first family home. It was full of love ( and unfolded washing and magazines you hoarded and bloody toast crumbs all through the carpet ... ) but it was a bit too small for more than three people. I hope that you've found a wonderful family-sized house, and that you've made it into a comfortable home for your children to grow up in. I hope that you can look back at me, the 2011 you, and see me as a strong, resilient woman, and that you are glad for the way that i was... I literally made you what you are ( or aren't, as it may turn out to be ). I'm looking at you, five years away from the here and now, and i'm almost certain the soul-searching i'm doing in this time and place will make you a good woman, a good mother, a good wife. A good person.
Give 2016 Mick a big, dirty, pash from me,

The 2011 You.

Open Letters

To all those Dubbo residents who complained about the traffic diversions in November -

Well dont your complaints seem petty now? Boo hoo, so it took you an hour to get across our one remaining bridge to get home after work ( instead of the normal 10 minutes ) - hundreds of thousands of people are now effecting by flooding in Qld, and 72 people are missing in and around Toowoomba, assumed swept away by a wall of water likened to an inland tsunami. I hope you're looking back retrospectively and feeling ashamed of yourselves. Next time, man up and be glad you still have your homes and loved ones - who cares how long you have to spend in your car to get to them?

Sincerely,
Someone with real perspective.


To Lori and her babies,
My heartfelt sympathies to you. It seems odd to be so moved by the plight of someone whom i've never actually met in real life but never-the-less feel I know - but what i do know about you, Lori, is that you are made from strong stuff, and i trust that you will use this strength to drag yourself through the pain and muck and absolute shittiness of grief. You will no doubt find a way to smile, sometimes, and will find a way to keep your beautiful babies smiling too. I have said it elsewhere already, but when you collapse, my wish is that the wave of support behind you lifts you up again.

With love,
Just one part of your bloggy wave of hope.


To my darling Mick,
Stress less dude - i dont mind making my own birthday cake. I love you down to my bones, and i know that you'll make me an awesome birthday dinner, but i also know you arent exactly a cake master. Its cute that you have decided that seeing as you arent much of a baker that we should " make the cake together " and i am totally willing to let you help, even if "help" amounts to you hanging out in the kitchen with me and taking turns stirring. As far as i see it, making my own birthday cake means i get to choose what kind i want, whether it be plain old chocolate mud or that decadent looking raspberry and coconut layer cake recipe i've been wanting to try for a while. Its a win-win!

Love ya guts,
The (almost ) birthday girl.


To the weather,
Hold steady man! I really, really want to go to the zoo for my birthday so if you could just promise not to a) be too stinking hot or b) pour with rain well... that would be ace. I'd like abit of sunshine and warmth, just not enough to fry myself and my boys on the way around the zoo track. I plan on walking ( gotta lose those birthday cake calories somehow! ) so if you could just grant me this one request i promise i wont complain ( much ) when you royally screw up my winter by being freezing cold and soggy.

Thanks in advance,
A sun seeking, zoo trekking, birthday mama.

Dear Flynn, Aged 9 Months

Hey Flynny!

Loving the swings now the sun is out - and look at those little piggies!

Well good gravy - havent the 3 months since my last letter been a whirlwind? A crazy, cute, weird and wonderful whirlwind. What i cant believe is that both of have made it through alive ( i should have died from sleep deprivation and you should have been packed off to China, like i threatened a while back ). But here we are, on your 9 month-aversary, and we're both happy and relatively healthy ( if not a bit tired ). And my havent you come along way, little man? Not so long ago i was moaning to everyone that you'd never crawl; that you hadnt spoken your first word yet; that of course that must mean you were developmentally delayed. And what have you done in the last month since Fathers Day?
* You've come up with your first, and second, and almost third words - "dad" followed closely by " mum " and we're getting a " wub, wub, wub " whenever i look at you and say " love, love, love! ".
* You've started crawling and in the past week alone have managed to better your PB lap time around the dining room table time and time again. Your so fast now, and so interested in getting your move on, that i can hardly keep you still to eat your afternoon bikkie... and thats something. You love bikkies!
* You've kept on with the raspberry blowing, but have added that " wah, wah, wah " Indian-noise thing ( you know the one... ) to your repertoire. Impressive - except that instead of slapping your chubby little hand over your mouth, you slap it against your cheek and just make the " wah wah " noise. Don't worry - you'll get it soon.
* You clap, you wave bye-bye, you and  (i dont know how this happened ) give the Peace sign and you try your darndest to dance. Or at least thats how i interpret the wild arm flapping and smiles everytime you watch Playschool or Sesame Street.

The one thing that i had hoped to include this letter is "champion sleeper " but, sadly, we still arent quite there yet. Maybe its just because you love being close to your mum and dad, or maybe its because your so interested in the world around you that you cant bare to miss one minute of it with something as boring as sleep ( huh! ) but for some reason we still havent progressed to night time sleep throughs. You've had a few little good patches but, by and large, you're still waking up three or four times a night. You've stopped staying awake for hours on end ( thank Gawd ) but i'm crossing fingers that this new sleep routine i'm implementing will see consistent sleep throughs sometimes soon. I mean, i know no-ones perfect but if you start sleeping through hell...you'll be as damned close to perfect as a baby boy can get.

Despite all the night-time craziness, the gigantic dirty poops, the hair pulling, the splashing me til i'm soaking wet at bathtime and general baby kookiness - i love you. Big lots. To the moon and back even.
Wub, wub, wub
Your Mama

Prick Me Once....

Dear YouKnowWhoYouAre ( and if you dont you ought to ),

What happened? I know what you tell me happened - you said that i " changed ", though you couldnt pinpoint where or when. You said that i became different, the sort of different that you didnt like; that i started becoming arrogant, like i was better than everyone else. Thats what you say, anyway. Truth be told, i think your husband has been in your ear - i always liked him, i thought he was a great guy, but after our little episode i now think he's not a nice person at all.

So tell me the truth - did your husband convince you of my supposed transformation, or was it a conclusion you came to yourself? And if it is something you personally witnessed, could you please let me know when, and where and how? Because even now, more than a year after you confessed how much you didnt like me anymore, every word you said still hurts because i still have no idea what your talking about. Best as i can understand is that around the time i came out of the black cloud of depression i developed more self-confidence - i wasnt just the sad clown, funny-but-single best friend anymore. I had found a little personal happiness, something i was proud of and wanted to boast about. I was overcoming my demons and i wanted to shout that to the world. I would have thought you would have been happy about this, ecstatic that i'd found some kind of inner peace - instead, i think this is the "arrogance " you ( or he ) are referring to. I wasnt just content to sit in the background and be only your personal cheerleader anymore.... i was being the leader of my own cheer squad for a change. Maybe, just maybe, this left you out of my limelight for a little while and YOU DIDNT LIKE IT. You know, not being the centre of attention.

We have a strained relationship now, and its killing me. We both have little bubbas and we had always said that our children would be like siblings. Not so much. After your outburst, which i took with a grain of salt and without airing my own grievances with you ( not that i had many, and those which i had were so insignificant when compared with what i perceived to be the depth of our friendship... ), we still catch up but only once every month or so; if we run into each other in the supermarket its polite chit-chat about our babies and how busy we are, not a " hey, lets grab a coffee! " like before; and your husband barely says hello, let alone sits and has a conversation with me like we used to do. I'm sure he looks down his nose at my fiance, because he has a better, higher paid, better educated job, because you two are married and we are not. If anyone thinks they are better than anyone else, it is, dare i say, your hypocritical husband.

This has needed saying for a while, and rather than say it to you and risk the immediate end of our friendship, i've chosen to release my hurt to the virtual universe and let our relationship run its natural course. Whether it sinks or swim may be out of our hands and in those of the Fates, all i know is i've done all that i can to help it limp along and i'll be damned if i'll let it be dragged down by more ill words. Will you do the same?

Yours - hopefully,
Your ( Former? Probably. Seems Like Thats How You Want It ) Best Friend.

Dear Flynn, Aged 6 Months

Happy half-birthday my beautiful bubba! It so strange to think that this time 6 months ago i was only a few hours done with labouring you, and was no doubt was blissfully watching you sleep.

You're not so good at going to sleep anymore ( i will fill you in on the trials and tribulations of Project Sleepy-time one day when you're older ) but i still love to watch you when you're finally pushing out the zzz's. Your snoring has gotten itself under control - you dont sound so much like an old man - and your little face is so handsome when your asleep. You remind me so much of your daddy in your sleep - that is, your sleeping faces of the same, you both snore and are both prone to bedtime farting. ( Sorry Mick ).

You've discovered so much in the 3 months since i last wrote you a letter :
a) you've learned to sit up on your own ( and all without a Bumbo )
b) you reach for things with both hands and like to swap toys from hand to hand and back again, just to show off your motor skills
c) you finally learned to blow raspberries after weeks and weeks of me blowing them at you. Now, when your in a talkative mood, i can hardly get a word in edge-wise for all the " bbbbbffft! " going on.

You've cut yourself some cute little teeth - they arent all the way up yet but there is enough of them there to give Daddy a little nip with. You had your " digestion issues " but after a bit of doctors advice you're now loving your fruit and custard at tea time, and porridge or yoghurt for breakfast - so much so i think you're growing yourself a nice little bikkie belly! You've made friends with the other gorgeous kiddies at mums group - watching you play and interact with them is so beautiful, even when you accidentally pull hair, or bonk each other in the head with toys, or even when you get grumpy and dont want to sit by yourself anymore. I pretend that i think your being a boom-baa but i secretly like that you need some time out just to snuggle up on Mummy's lap.

You went through a clingy stage for a while there but you've moved past it. You know longer NEED to be touching me, and are more than happy to have a cuddle with another close relative ( at least for a little while ). You are back to loving Poppy S - you actually screamed at the sight of him during your clingy thig - and now, after only a week, you are already excited when its getting near to 4pm.... the time Poppy S comes to take you for a walk.

Your daddy and I are both still besotted with you - even though sometimes you make me cry because i'm so tired, or you pull Daddy's chest hairs. Even though i keep threatening to pack you up and send you to China if you dont learn to sleep, i wouldnt trade you for the world.

Big lots love, snuggles and kisses,

Love Mummy xxoo

Dear Flynn, Aged 3 Months

Dear Flynny,


Hello my darling – my little bubba boy. Its Mummy! You’re 3 months old now and I cannot believe how quickly the time has gone by ( it’s a cliché I know, but its true ). It feels like just yesterday they were popping you up onto my chest, your skin all soft and wet and me in tears. And now here we are, 3 months later, and you still sometimes have me near tears with how beautiful and clever you are ( very occasionally its because you wont go to sleep… ). In just this past week you have learned to:

a) Pull yourself up to sitting if someone holds your hands to steady you ( you could already go from sitting to standing on someones lap )
b) Reach out and grab things ( your right-handed by the way )
c) And roll from tummy to back ( and almost from back to tummy – you keep getting stuck on your elbow )

All that in just one week! I’m sure one day soon I’ll blink my eyes and you’ll be sitting on your own unaided, or will have got yourself wedged under the coffee table somehow because you crawled off when I wasn’t looking.

You’ve grown into a bit of a cheeky boy – you poke your tongue out when your happy ( that’s my fault for teaching you how ), flirt with all the checkout chicks and old ladies who stop us in the supermarket and smirk at me when your supposed to be falling asleep. I pretend to be grumpy and tell you “ Shut them eyes, Smiley! “ but really you could just stare up at me all day long and I wouldn’t be too mad. I probably wouldn’t mind at all except you really do need to sleep at some point ( and so does Mummy – nanny naps are important ). You think your Poppy S is hilariously funny and your not really scared of B anymore ( even though she made you pee yourself like a scared puppy… ). Both your Grandma and your Nanny show you off at every opportunity and H tells everyone she knows about every single thing you do ( you’re a very cool cousin to have apparently ).

Your daddy and I love you very much. We were kind of nervous when we found out you were coming into being, and we were kind of a little, tiny bit scared when you were born, just because we loved you so much and we were a little unsure how good we’d be at being your parents. But, after 3 months, I know that we’re doing awesome. How do I know? Because you’re awesome – and happy, and healthy, and learning and growing everyday. That means we’re doing something right, even when sometimes Mummy feels like she might have done something wrong. Daddy never feels like that, and he tells Mummy she’s doing great. He’s a good Daddy. Always remember that. Oh, and always remember we love you, love you, love you! ( and that if I ever catch you smoking, I’ll kick you right up the bum ).

Big, big snuggles and kisses,

Your Mumma

Short and Sweet - Its Been On My Mind

Dear Dr S - Anaethetist,

What is up with you charging me so damn much for your services ? If I knew you were going to make me pay through the nose, I would have drunk myself into a stupor and knocked myself out. But i suppose its the old supply vs demand thing isnt it ?I needed the needle and you could supply that; however you dont need the money ( which i dont exactly have to supply ). Therefore, I'm going to pay you in installments - let you sweat on it a little.
How do you like them apples ?
Amy
___________________________________________________________________

Dear She Who Feels So Hard Done By,

You're joking, right? I hate to tell you, but you reap what you sow. How you could expect love after giving no affection, respect after years of thinly velied insults, and admiration without innovation is beyond me. Perhaps if you'd made all these efforts ten or fifteen years ago, the end result might have been different. As it stands, your probably better off cultivating relationships with the new little people in your life.
Better luck the second time around,
Amy
___________________________________________________________________

Dear P,

So glad you had a happy birthday! Thankyou for indulging my need to go out for brunch; sorry we got sunburnt. Also, thanks for taking me to see your neice - she is too gorgeous! I get so carried away in m own two neices, I forget how cute other peoples kids can be. My fingers are crossed that you have your own cute little kidlets by the end of this year.
I'll get back to you about my birthday wish list,
Amy
___________________________________________________________________

Dear Chadwick,

So good to hear from you! The best emails are the ones that come completely out of the blue - or the white, as it were, seeing as you've told me your snowed under up there in Canada. You need to get your arse down here to Australia and get yourself a tan. Although, as the public service ads here warn us " Tanning is skin cells in trauma ". I swear that ad makes me want tot throw up. But forget all that - we have to save some money and get our respective selves on another holiday. Seriously, you were the best travel buddy of the bunch.
Wanna hit up Morrocco ?
Amy
___________________________________________________________________
( Thanks to this post by Andy for the " short letters " idea ).

Letter not yet written

Dear P,

I have had a horrible week and its only lead into a horrible weekend. I have cried myself to sleep the last three nights and although you cannot change that, I just wanted someone to know. I think this is the point entirely - I want some to know me, to be able to share intimately and, although you are clearly not this person, as my best friend telling you is probably a good start. I am your best friend right ( aside from your husband of course ) ? Because you have not answered the last three text messages i have sent in the last week or so; the only reason i knew you were in town last week was because i saw you walk past my store in the pouring rain; the other two knew ahead of time. Perhaps i am being needy. Insecure. Paranoid.

You know that Newton Faulkner song?
" I need something to believe in/
Cos i dont believe in myself.
Scared of failure/
So scared of success/
Guess it will all work out "

You know that song ? Thats me. I dont know what i'm doing anymore - not that i ever did. A couple of months back i thought i did and i was so excited, i thought i'd finally figured it out. Wasnt it all so simple ? Nope. No it hasnt been simple, and its not so easy, and nothing has happened. Nothig has changed, at least not for the better, and here i am , still stuck. And i despair at it. I'm so desperately, desperately lonely and feel i have no control at all. You know what my pyschologist said ? Go out, just start talking to someone new. How about i invite some old school friends for dinner ? Surely that would have me out and about, socialising. Wasnt he listening when i said how utterly afraid of that i am? How i cannot just go out and start talking to new people, all on my own? It is that viscious circle - I cannot go out on my own, alone, to meet new people. The prospect of propping myself up at a bar without a single soul for support is terrifying ( and probably, in some situations, not so safe ); yet i cannot find new friends if i sit at home and cry all the time. Crying silently into your pillow is not some kind of siren song with which to lure new friends to my door. It doesnt work like that. So what am i to do? Same as always - smile, laugh, fake happiness when my parents ask about my day, and shrink beneath my sheets in the dark.

I spent Friday night at home, with my parents, watching a rugby league game on tv. If i were a normal 24 year old i would have been out drinking wine with my girlfriends, or seeing a movie with a cute date. But i wasnt. I was balled up on the lounge, hugging a pillow in a desperate attempt not to burst into tears. How utterly pathetic. I spent Saturday night sitting up til midnight with a 3 year child that isnt mine, keeping her company and drying her tears until her mother came to pick her up, all the while only just keeping my own tears at bay. If i am going to sit up half the night with an upset child, I wish it could be one of my own. But that prospect is not available to a 24 year old woman with no husband, fiance, boyfriend or even potential date in sight. A 24 year old woman without a man by her side would be out on the town on a Saturday night, in a cute little dress and gorgeous high heels. I have the dresses and the heels, but no occasion to where them. No friends to invite me to a party or out for a drink. Hell, i went to the movies on my own today because I have no friends to invite along. At least i was out of the house i suppose.

" Scared of failure/
So scared of success /
Guess it will all work out ".

But it hasnt yet. I had that brilliant idea of finding a new job and moving to the coast but it hasnt just all worked out. I have applied for at least 50 jobs, and have heard back in regards to two of them. I keep searching for new positions, and i check the real estate websites so i have some idea of what kind of rent i could afford in these areas - but nothing has come from it. It is to the point now, after only 2 months, where I am scared of never finding a job somewhere else and being stuck in here in my parents house, alone and unloved, until either they, or I, die. But equally I am scared of success, of scoring an interview and getting a fantastic new job. It means moving away from the only support units i have, of finding my own way for a while - and what if it all falls apart from there? What if the success of finding a job turns into the failure of not doing it well, of falling apart, again, on my own ? Then i would only have to skulk back home, tail between my legs, head in my hands, a real loser. Maybe it isnt worth trying.

But i should be taking risks right ? Nothing comes from simply wishing, I need to be proactive. I need to take control. So i'm going to start small. For the next month i will diet. I will only eat nutritous foods and not give in to cravings for " bad " foods. I will only treat myself once a week ( whether it be chocolate, or cake, or a hamburger... ). I will go to the gym at least four times i week. I know i can push myself there, I can control what happens. And, for the next month, i will spend no unnecessary money on myself. I will not buy new clothes or music or dvds. I will save money and draw strength from knowing i can control my spending. These three things i CAN control - they arent dependant on what others may be thinking of me, or how terrible and lonely i feel. I'll concentrate on these and focus my worries and fears and despairs on these. Take my mind off things i cant control and dont have.

Does this make sense ? I know it cant possibly be easy having an insecure paranoid for a best friend. I'm suprised you havent gotten ridden of me yet. Come to think of it - whats wrong with you ?

If i had guts enough i might send this to you,
Much love,

Amy xxoo