News

So, I speculated recently on Facebook that I had some exciting news.

It's not pregnancy.

It's not a new pet.

Are you ready?

Hold your breath

...

We are moving.

Not to Adelaide, Pinnaroo, Jakarta or even house.

We are moving here.

www.samiati.com

Yes, I went out and did what all the cool kids do and bought a domain name. And I'm starting a new journey that I never thought I would: I've changed Blogging platforms from Blogger to Wordpress. It's going to be a bit tough because honestly I've tried many times before and I couldn't quite stand Wordpress, so I'm diving in at the deep end. I'm not sure that I'm entirely happy with the layout and everything yet, so be patient with me chopping and changing until I feel satisfied.

If you click the about section of my new blog you will learn why I use the alias Samiati.

so for continued enjoyment of this blog, you will need to change your RSS feeds, bookmarks or whatever you've started using since Google Reader shut it's doors.

See ya on the flip side.

(Oh, and I'll redirect this blog to samiati.com ... when I can work out how.

Made for more.

Ever since I can remember, I've been the fat kid. I always felt like I was the biggest in my class all through primary and high school. I was never the athletic kind, and really struggled to keep up in PE classes. My self esteem was pretty much at zero. I'd like to turn back the clock and tell my teenage self that I wasn't as disgustingly fat as I thought I was.

As long as I remember I've struggled with emotional eating. And when I say emotional, it didn't matter the emotion. I tried a few different diets, lasted on Weight Watchers for a week. I've been to many different gyms, in fact I joined a new one this week. The core issues always happened when I was alone, or placed in a testing environment where I would let myself go with foods with salty and sweet and processed goodness that would call my name.

I always tried my hardest at the gym every Monday night only to jeopardise my efforts to lose weight and centimetres by eating something in secret every week. 

Then I picked up this book called Made to Crave by Lysa Terkeurst. To be honest, when it comes to weight loss, there's a lot on the market, and it's a big industry for making money - from 12 week programs, to gyms, to protein shakes. And while often these things work for some (heck, I've seen amazing results from people I know!), I am yet to find one that deals so deeply with the emotional and spiritual issues arising from the vicious cycle of weight loss programs and the "I'll start again Monday" mentality.

I'd never thought as food as an 'idol'. Now before you get all "woaaah that's a bit too deep, heavy and spiritual" we need to assess what an 'idol' is. Honestly, this book will probably not make as much sense to you if you've never struggled with emotional eating. But for me, I had subconsciously made food into an idol. I turned to food, crappy food, into something I searched for joy, comfort and celebration in, when as a Christian, I should definitely place my those things in God! The first step for me to make a step in the right direction was to identify this was really what was going on in my heart - food was too big a priority. 

Made to Crave has equipped me with ways to do battle with the core issues of my weight loss, which are beyond numbers, all while finding my identity isn't bound by what I see on the scales.

I have so much to say about this book, but I'll leave it up to you to find out more. The real journey has begun.

Offspring

Offspring is one of those shows I always wanted to watch but never did. Somehow I will start watching it, but it must be just on at the wrong time and I need to shower, or attend to Luke, and somewhere in the midst of my good intentions we end up watching the SBS world news. That said, it has been one of those shows that you can follow just by watching the shorts for it on TV (and, yep, I say 'shorts' like my Grandma would).

Despite not watching, and half watching through the shorts, it would be impossible for you to not know that one of the main, obviously very loved, characters died in the series last week. My news feeds and radio were filled with Offspring Offspring Offspring, everywhere I turned.

And obviously it was on the radio this morning as I drove to MOPS. There was some really sad music, along with some pieces of audio from the show. Now I have friends who would absolutely lament over this show and the events of the past two weeks. But as I was driving, I had to turn it off for the fear of becoming a blubbering mess. And. I. Don't. Even. Watch. The. Show...

What I heard was something like this:

Nina (yes, I know the blonde girl is called Nina): "I can't do this! I'm scared! I'm scared I won't be able to love the baby!"
Other character in the show (who I have no idea the name of, nor can describe because it was on the radio): "I'll love the baby for you... until you can love the baby... I'll love it for you..."

(well, that was the general gist of what I heard, then I turned it off cos it was ... intense).

What made me emotional? Well, obviously it's really, really sad. And it's a sad story, and awful circumstance. This heavily pregnant lady has just lost someone who would be a rock for her in her new adventure in parenthood. Maybe it's because I could somewhat relate to the fear of not loving my baby because I loathed being pregnant (truth be known, I loved Luke the moment I set eyes on him).

I'll love for you...

This statement I think is what really got the floodgates going. When Nina was so weak and vulnerable, she had someone there, ready to stand in the gap.

I'll love for you, when you can't love.
I'll be strong for you, when you are weak.
I'll be there for you, when you feel alone.

Who can you love for today, who has lost hope? Who can you be strong for, who has nothing left to keep them going? And who can you be there for, who truly needs you.

Be the miracle.

Travelling buddy.

I'm slowly getting over my fear of flying.

The latest trip home required me to fly from Melbourne to Adelaide, then Mildura to Melbourne. It's safe to say that boarding calls are my weakness. While I'm nothing like I was, there is still an element of fear there. But instead of my mind going a thousand miles an hour, it's my body. My mind is sound, my body... speeds up it's metabolism.

While I went to Adelaide with Hendrik, the stretch home was just Luke and I. I have never flown with Luke solo before so I was a bit anxious about how I would cope. I think that of all my anxiety - I'm scared of being anxious and what the anxiety will cause me to do the most. (Can anybody relate? Please tell me I'm not alone here).

When we arrived at the airport, Mum took Luke in her arms while I dragged the case to the check-in counter. Checking-in at Mildura is so much less of a hassle because it is such a small airport. I think this helps with the anxiety. But then this happened...

The lady asked for my name, and then said, "Oh, that's right, I want to talk to you!" (that usually means something bad, right?). I had preselected seats for Luke and I in seat 5A up the front and next to the window. She proceeded to tell me that this was a pretty full flight and that in seat 5A there would undoubtedly be someone sitting next to me, but was happy to put me right up the back at 26A where I'd have two seats (small plane) to myself. I thought I'd cope better with the flight if I was closer to the front, but for the extra space and not fearing judgement because of travelling with Luke (did I mention a lady refused to sit next to us on the way to Adelaide because we had a 'baby' - who slept the whole way).

What a helpful and nice and thoughtful lady. Until..

"now, love, do you have proof of Luke's age?"

No. Nor had I ever been asked for it.

"Well you are getting him on for free!" She said in a really nice-yet-horribly-sarcastic tone of voice.

I explained to her that on previous occasions I had never needed ID for Luke (because we usually have the luxury of pre-check in or we're on a flight that requires a passport) and that I had just driven 3 hours, I repeat 3 hours so I could get to an airport to get home to Melbourne, where Luke's passport was, and that I'd have to come back on Tuesday so Hendrik could post it. Luckily after a bit of nice-arguing she let us off with a warning. Fun for an already anxious flyer.

When we finally said our fair-well's to Nanna and were on the flight and taxi-ing to the runway, I tried to engage Luke with car noises. As the plane roared down the runway Luke clung to me whimpering. The people looked at me with an "awwww" look.

When the seatbelt sign was off I removed Luke from the red infant seatbelt and let him look out the window.

"Waaaaow!"

I put him in the vacant seat next to me (winner!) and handed him a book. He read it almost copying me as I read the copy of Voyager in the seat pocket. We both finished the books and put them away. Luke sat in the seat and took my hand. Usually he takes my hand to use it as a teething ring. I waited for the bite, but instead he just sat there, drearily, with my hand in his. It was quite possibly one of the most special moments in my life.

You have fears, I have fears. But we're here together. I'm here for you Mum. We're in this together.

Country Kids

You probably already know this, but I grew up in the country. Many people assume that I was brought up in Bendigo because that's where I associate a lot of my fun times and friendship groups. Although Bendigo is country, think even more country. My home town is seven hours away from Melbourne. It's literally in the middle of nowhere. It's three hours from Adelaide, and three hours from Mildura - which are both the nearest airports making the little sleepy town feel incredibly isolated.

Leading up to this trip I wasn't really looking forward to going back in time (literally). Last time I was in Pinnaroo (the name of my home town, by the way, if you feel the need to google) I felt almost bored and did mainies (a South Australian term for driving up and down the same street - in Victoria I believe they call them blockies) looking for someone to talk to. I had planned this trip when there happened to be a lot happening back in Melbourne, and I was absolutely kicking myself about coming back to the sticks when there was so much I would be missing out on in the big smoke.

On Tuesday morning I drove down to the main street. Pinnaroo, like most small country towns in South Australia only has one street with most of the businesses on it. And when I say one street, there are only shops on ONE side of the street. And of these shops, most are empty now. As I turned the corner in my Mum's 4WD to see what I could find, I noticed that Pinnaroo was not the small bustle it once was. There weren't people joyfully walking up and down the street as though it was some cheesy musical. (Okay, that never happened, although the weather would be perfect for leaping from the Post Office to the Supermarket singing The Hills Are Alive). Pinnaroo wasn't the Pinnaroo I left in Year 12, in the midst of the rise of the Potato industry. Pinnaroo was... dead.

As I continued to cruise around the streets, disguised as my Mum in a car designed for scrub-bashing, I couldn't help but notice that nearly every third house was either empty, falling apart or for sale. Pinnaroo, although isolated and often cursed as a hole has, I believe, so much hidden potential. Someone needs to get a reality show like The Block to come and do up some houses, and show how the town can live. I know this is easier said than done coming from someone who even refuses to live in Adelaide.

The last time I was in Pinnaroo was easter. Luke had just started walking but only just. Now having a sixteen month old proved challenging, but also a lot of fun. Being in Pinnaroo for the last week made me relive my childhood, and reminded me how valuable living here was when I was growing up, and how much I would love to empart that for Luke. Pinnaroo is the type of place I would love to bring up my children, but not my teenagers.

There are things about Pinnaroo I miss. Firstly, I miss my Mum's warm log fire. I miss the fact that although it's the same temperature as Melbourne, the air is different. You can just put on a jacket and go and play outside. I miss doing mainies and seeing that somebody is home and dropping in for five minutes but staying for an hour. I miss the fact that nothing changes here.

I've realised that we are two worlds apart - Melbourne and Pinnaroo. Luke will forever have the fun contrast of where Daddy is from (Jakarta, 20 million people) and where Mummy is from (Pinnaroo, less than 600 people). Life is so different here. In Melbourne our life is indoor play and shopping centres. In Pinnaroo, life is making mud pies and visiting neighbours with a new lamb.

It has been an absolute delight watching Luke doing the things that I would have done at his age in the country. While Melbourne increases in population and rapidly changes, and people leave this little town, I am comforted by the fact that things don't change as rapidly here and that this lifestyle will still be here in years to come. I know that moving back isn't on the cards for us, nor do I really want it to be. But I need to remember where I've come from and grow from there. I believe that living in Melbourne is where I'm supposed to be for this season in my life - that season could be 2 years or 20. I want to endeavour to bring what I can of Pinnaroo back home. I want to endeavour to build friendships like you just do here. I want to endeavour to spend more time outside. I want community, a word so loosely thrown around in different circles I'm involved in, to 'come back' with me to Melbourne. Let's look after each other, and better yet, let's get messy.