In that moment

This post is really just for me to debrief and to get my thoughts out there after this event that keeps playing on my mind.

On Saturday we decided that due to inclement weather we would go to the local shopping centre to go for a walk. On our way home, we were turning into one of the major roads. As we were accelerating, a car came up behind us and began to honk their horn. The speed limit was 80, we were doing 60 and increasing with speed, as my car is not exactly a V6 and takes a little while to get going. We had definitely given them sufficient way as we entered the intersection. They kept tailgating us with their hand firmly on the horn. I felt really angry, and looked back at them.

It was a two-laned road and so they did what they should have done in the first place and went into the right lane. But then they went in front of us, back into the left lane where we were driving and then slammed on their brakes! I was lucky Hendrik had a quick response time and he quickly braked.

I was now furious. I leant over to the drivers side and started beeping our horn (immature I know). They zoomed off into another street while I grabbed a pen and paper and scribbled down their registration number.

I was quite shaken up and as soon as we walked into the door I called the local police who said they were going to call them for a 'chat'.

So many things keep playing in my mind.

What if there was another car behind us and they ran into the back and hurt Luke?

What if we had crashed into them - it would have been seen as 'our fault'.

What if we we crashed into them and we were hurt? Who would look after Luke? What would happen to my boobs?

Is my car even safe?

They don't make cars like they used to. And quite honestly, if we crashed I think our car may have easily been written off. Actually I'm certain it would have been.

But we are safe. And so is the car.

But it has gotten me a bit nervous - this is just after a friend of mine had their car written off by the same type of reckless driver. I know that I need to conquer these feelings I have, but when I look at Luke and think of what could have been I get really scared inside. If anybody hurt him I tell you.... I don't know what I'd do.

I need to take control. Because if I'm nervous about driving, I will be a crap driver and a potential hazard on the road.

I will take control. I will enjoy driving again. Admittedly I haven't driven since as it's only Monday and on the weekends I'm driven around by my husband because he is generally awesome like that. And when I think about it we went to church and back and I didn't even think about this at all. It just pops into my head every now and then.

I can't control the other drivers on the road but I can be on my guard and safe and do what's right for my family!

What I would have told the ABC about today's strike.

Back in the day...

Today as I was driving home from Mothers group I decided to tune into the ABC. Funnily enough they were talking about the teachers strike in Melbourne today. Of course callers were calling in and saying about how teachers are paid too much and saying how they get 14 weeks of holidays. I called in and got through, but they were just about to break to the news, so said they would call me back. Okay, they said they may call me back. And they didn't. Haven't. So far.

Here's what I told the lady who took my call and what I would have said on air:

I was a teacher. Currently I am not a teacher as I have had a baby and because I wasn't in an actual concrete job I wasn't awarded any maternity leave.

If I had the choice to strike over either pay or conditions I would choose conditions. Hear me out. While I believe that teachers are definitely underpaid for the effort they put in, as a graduate teacher, I have had a really hard time securing a job.

I was lucky enough to score a job when I was fresh out of uni. In fact, I still had a few months to go. But because suddenly an Indonesian teacher had up and left to Indonesia and they were desperate - the Victorian Institute of Teaching awarded me special Permission to Teach. I was full time teaching years 7 - 9 Indonesian. I had well over 100 students, most with the usual attitude of I'm never going to Indonesia so why should I? Which, okay, fair enough. But I had been there 4 weeks and I was asked to write reports - due in 2 weeks. Rough.

As much as it wasn't the best of schools, I enjoyed the team I worked with and was eager to stay there. The staff begged me to apply for the position, a year contract, for the following teaching year, because they were concerned nobody would apply for it. As it happened, somebody else did.

I was informed that I was unsuccessful. I tried to remain cheerful and said to the principal that "I was young and beautiful, surely I'd get a job" (but on the inside I was crushed). He said he admired my resilience, and explained to me a little thing I had never heard of before called merit & equity. Basically, it means if you have more experience than me, you have more rights to my job if I go to renew a contract. And by law, the school must advertise a job, even if they have hinted that they want you back, you must still write a 5 page response to Key Selection Criteria, and go for the interview.

From there I began relief teaching. While it's good money and experience it does not 'count' towards anything as your 'years in service' are counted by the years you are actually engaged in either a contract or ongoing work with a school. I went back to uni to improve my prospects of finding a 'real job' and to this day I haven't used that second degree.

Through relief teaching I got a job teaching ICT and from that into a classroom for 2 terms. But then I had to reapply for my job and the same thing came back to bite me: merit & equity.

I fell pregnant so I decided to relief teach until the baby came.

For me, when I started my degree in 2005, I was told there were not enough teachers and that Indonesian was in high demand (I studied Primary and Indonesian teaching). By the time I graduated in 2008 there was a surplus and Indonesian was being phased out.

How are we supposed to attract young, fresh and fantastic teachers to the profession if they cannot feel secure or feel like they can build up their career?

Going back to the oh you get so many holidays and heaps of money debate: holidays are often spent marking and preparing for the next term. Even the big summer one. I was discouraged to go to Indonesia to see my family in my holidays because I 'ought to be planning for next term'. (and yeah, I probably should have been!). And did I mention - you get so run down from working over time that you are often SICK in your holidays? Also, there is no flexibility in these holidays, you take them when you're told to. Which really is sucky when you do go to visit family overseas and because it's school holidays ends up costing twice the price (which I could justify because I had a job and an income at the time).

Report time is a mad time. You are up all hours of the night, and if you are a specialist you can easily have hundreds of reports to write. I recall throwing up in the middle of the night because I was still writing reports in my sleep.

The bottom line is, the salary teachers get is not enough compared to the effort they put in and the cost of living, as well as the conditions they have to work under to maybe, just maybe be able to keep their job.

... And you get almost the same wage stacking shelves at Coles...

As for me, it is unlikely I will return to teaching. I want to give my son a quality of life where he is not in Childcare all hours of the day and then comes home to me not being able to spend time with him because I need to mark and plan (but full respect for those who do - it's tough and I'm cheering for you!). To return to relief teaching is unrealistic, as I cannot just pick up the phone at 7, have my son in childcare by 7:30 and be at a school by 8:10 in Frankston. Child care centres don't just let you put your child in randomly, and you can't put them in every Thursday and Friday because you might get a call to teach. Childcare is expensive and realistically I probably wouldn't make enough return to make it worth while.

And while I'm no perfect parent and I definitely have my days, I believe I am a better mother than I ever was teacher, and I am the best person for that job.

A walk in the Light Green...

Mum and Dad and Denny saw the passing-out parade at Puckapunyal

It was a long march from cadets.

The sixth battalion was the next to tour, and it was me who drew the card.

We did Canungra, Shoalwater before we left. 

And Townsville lined the footpaths as we marched down to the quay

This clipping from the paper shows us young and strong and clean.

And there's me in my slouch hat with my SLR and greens.

God help me, I was only nineteen. 

From Vung Tau, riding Chinooks, to the dust at Nui Dat

I'd been in and out of choppers now for months.

But we made our tents a home, VB and pinups on the lockers

And an Asian orange sunset through the scrub. 

And can you tell me, doctor, why I stil can't get to sleep?

And night-time's just a jungle dark and a barking M16?

And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?

God help me, I was only ninteen. 

A four week operation when each step could mean your last one on two legs

It was a war within yourself.

But you wouldn't let your mates down til they had you dusted off

So you closed your eyes and thought about something else. 

Then someone yelled out "Contact!" and the bloke behind me swore

We hooked in there for hours, then a Godalmighty roar

Frankie kicked a mine the day that mankind kicked the moon,

God help me, he was going home in June. 

I can still see Frankie, drinking tinnies in the Grand Hotel

On a thirty-six hour rec leave in Vung Tau

And I can still hear Frankie, lying screaming in the jungle

Til the morphine came and killed the bloody row. 

And the Anzac legends didn't mention mud and blood and tears

And the stories that my father told me never seemed quite real.

I caught some pieces in my back that I didn't even feel

God help me, I was only nineteen. 

And can you tell me, doctor, why I still can't get to sleep?

And why the Channel Seven chopper chills me to my feet?

And what's this rash that comes and goes, can you tell me what it means?

God help me, I was only nineteen.

I Was Only Nineteen by Redgum

Listen/Watch via Youtube

Luke likes falling asleep listening to the sound of the ABC radio. I think it could be because he likes the sound of people talking. I tune my iPhone in (providing we are in Wifi range) to it and lie down with him and listen. It's actually quite interesting. Oh gosh I'm turning into my Mother/Grandfather!

I can't remember when the first time was when I heard this song. I think perhaps in High School (because I think I also recall talking to my Grandpa about it). I remember feeling really something deep inside move me and I can't remember why and I still don't know why. I got this same feeling when it came on the radio as Luke slept soundly beside me.

Something about Australians dying overseas moves me to tears deep inside my heart. I don't know why. Often I've even denied the fact that I am indeed Australian. But I am big on celebrating ANZAC and Remembrance Days. The last verse chills me the most.

Interestingly, since I have really thought about this song I have actually worked at Pukapunyal - which is a really awesome school. You would just be teaching times tables when suddenly a bomb would go off and shake the windows. That was all in a days work.

I remember when the Bali bombings happened in 2002 and feeling incredibly disturbed as I had only been on my first ever trip to Indonesia months before, and would have walked past that night club. Alas I soon forgot about it. Then I went to visit Bali with my now husband in 2009. We walked past the shrine that now stands in the place of the nightclub where so many Australians (and Indonesians among other nationalities) died. It was just on nightfall, and the shrine was bright from the lights that shone around it and flowers were laid everywhere. 

Something inside me felt.. dead. I could not explain it. But there was a deeper, spiritual, dead feeling inside me and I couldn't even swallow. I didn't think that seeing the memorial would make me feel this way but seeing it and being in it's presence, something was definitely going on! When I left I felt normal again. I never want to go back to Kuta to see it again. Thinking about how I felt that day still gives me chills.

Back to the song, I hadn't heard it in so long but the feelings it gave me are still so fresh. I got similar feelings when I heard the song Berita Kepada Teman by Ebiet G. Ade. It's about the Indonesian Tsunami. (Or at least it now is). I remember even crying because I felt so upset about the people who are now widows, orphans. I guess natural disasters have affected me as much as war.

Ahh. This blog post is a bit all over the place, sorry. I just heard this song and it struck something inside of me and I had to write. I don't even know if this makes sense. Oh well. Hit Publish. Now.

A handmade gift & Daddy's first Fathers Day

I'm pretty sure I've told you this before - in our house we don't worry about how much we spend on giving gifts. We do like to make things for each other.

Being Hendrik's first fathers day, Luke and I decided to make something special. In my mind it all seemed to make sense. But it didn't quite turn out how I intended.

Oh, no, Mum... Not more... Finger painting???

 

A simple terracotta pot from Bunnings

Clouds

Sun

grass

Must make lots of green paint - it's so hard to make the exact same shade twice if there's not enough!!

Luke wasn't too keen on 'finger painting' so we did toe-painting instead!

I helped out by doing some finger painting

"If fathers were flowers...

"... I'd choose YOU!"
(But clearly it should say pick, not choose! You pick flowers not choose them! Duh!)

I checked the forecast for Sunday and saw that it was going to a fantastic day! So I quickly suggested to Hendrik that we should have a picnic for fathers day (which I was almost certain he would agree to!). 

I then got a fantastic idea to get him one of those silicon BBQ hotplate covers - basically it's a cover you put over the BBQ so that you don't get the last persons bird poo all over what you cook! So it was off to Bunnings where Luke had his first real trolly ride!

I got him one of those scrapey BBQ things too. And a Solar Light. Daddy loves Solar lights.

My original plan was to spray varnish on the pot and plant some potted colour inside. The purpose of the varnish was to seal it and make it waterproof. But the lady at Bunnings said that it probably would make the acrylic paint run. Obviously I hadn't thought this through enough. The lady suggested something else that *may* work, but I thought it would be a waste to spend so much money on something I would only use once and could potentially also ruin our artwork. 

So it must be an inside pot now. Any suggestions of good inside pots? (Mum? Leanne???)

My secret hiding place - disguised as a box of 'too small' clothes!

Sorry for the two photos of the same thing - I simply could not choose which one of Luke was cuter!

Fathers day was excellent - I made Hendrik a scrambled egg breakfast with all the left overs in the fridge - Daddy loves eggs!

Fathers day was fun! Despite it being incredibly windy we did have a lot of fun going down to the park which was conveniently next to our local Coles and enjoying the sunshine and a great BBQ - something that we definitely will be doing a lot more of!

Daddy cooking our first family BBQ on his first ever Fathers Day

Luke enjoying the sunshine, fresh air and grass!

My colourful family

So I was sitting here pondering about my family and how diverse we are and thought I'd share it with you, my blogging community.

Even before I married an Indonesian (which may I add was my life long dream) my family already was very multicultural.

See, my sister's boyfriend is Indian. My cousin's husband is from Chile.

Now here's where it get's confusing.

My husband is from Indonesia but is Chinese.

Many people can't get their head around this. Let me explain.

It's like how I am Australian but not Indigenous. My husband is a 2nd generation Chinese in Indonesia. Many people ask "which one is Chinese, Hendrik's mum or dad?" .... "neither" *confused looks*.

Hendrik does not speak Chinese. Not mandarin. Not cantonese. Indonesian. Sundanese. English.

My sister in law is here at the moment. Her husband is from Chile. But is Australian.

Me? I was born here. So were my parents. And my grand parents. And my great grandparents. And probably my great, great grandparents too. I am English, Welsh, Scottish and German to be technical.

I think I've done well for a typical white-Australian-cultureless-outback background!

Let your smile be a blessing.

Dear Luke,

This morning we went to the coffee shop. You know the one. We always go there. We were waiting for Kuku.

Poor thing, you hadn't slept since 6am. You were crying in your pram. I kept trying to push it back and forth to settle you but you kept crying. So I took you out and you sat on my lap.

You like coffee. You wanted to grab the cup. I think you first became addicted to it when I was pregnant with you. Oh Luke, I was very sick while you were in my tummy. I had a coffee before work every morning in an attempt to feel better. It would do nothing, but I would feel you moving around in my belly. You love coffee.  I believe you still love coffee through my breast milk. If I don't have coffee you get cranky! Lucky I only have one a day. Max.

You like standing up on my lap, working out your leg muscles. I thought I would try and play with you but you were so tired you began to cry. I tried to comfort you and then you screamed. I stood up and walked around with you. You like that. You like being up high on a shoulder. Works every time. 

I sat back down and with you in one arm tried to finish my coffee so we could go home and you could have a long awaited nap. An old lady walked past and said that you were such a beautiful baby.

"He's even beautiful when he screams!" I joked.

Another lady walked in. She was an old lady. Short. Alone. She ordered a large latte to take away. She seemed almost stressed out.

She waited for her coffee and it was made in an instant. She turned around to walk out and she looked at you, Luke. She smiled and you smiled back. She almost had tears in her eyes as she interacted with you.

She looked at you, and said, "Oh, my day can start now, because I have seen your smile."

And then you laughed.

You laughed that fantastic hysterical laugh. You could see your lack of teeth.

"Oh! I get a laugh too!" She said.

See, some people are lonely. There are so many hurting people in the world. While we often concern ourselves with the big picture - going overseas to feed the hungry (which is of course equally as important!) - sometimes our mission is just here.

Your smile is a blessing Luke. You are a blessing to everybody. 

Tak perlulah keliling dunia

Don't need to travel the world

Keep smiling, baby. I hope when you are older you can read this and know how something so simple can be a big blessing to somebody. My prayer for you my darling is that you will be a blessing to everybody, not because you travel far and wide, not because you are rich, but just with the beautiful personality that I can already see at 5 months of age.

I love you always,

Your Mama

x o x o x o

Bloody muslin squares...

Having a baby shower and then actually having a baby I found that for some reason the gift of choice were these muslin square things.

I get it. You use them to wrap your baby in.

But they are so tiny, Luke had grown out of them in about, two weeks.

So I have never really gotten the point in it.

In our house we really believe in not cluttering the house and if something is useless we are ruthless and get rid of it one way or another.

Anyway, the wrap we usually use is getting small as Luke is obviously getting bigger. Shopping for a new suitable piece of material seemed challenging, until I realised I had an abundance of useless small wraps.

I started hand stitching them together but that proved to be a long process. Initially it was going to be a cover for my pram so that the sun doesn't get in my poor darling's eyes. But then I realised that my once useless nursing apron is perfect for that purpose.

So now that I have my sewing machine I made this my second project:

Now instead of having four useless pieces of muslin I have one very big wrap! And right now, Luke is soundly sleeping wrapped up triangularly in it.