Hayley and Adonijah Solich

My 7-year-old son walked into my office today and pronounced, “Mum, burps mean ‘yes’ and farts mean ‘no’.”

I just looked at him and said tentatively, “Yes….”

And he continued, “So, ask me a question…”

Well what is a mother to do?

I asked him, “Do you love Jesus?”

Responsed, “Burp!”

I asked him, “Do you love Mummy?”

Response, “Burp!”

I asked him, “Do you love sharing a room with your sisters?”  (Who incidentally he describes as “The Bitches”)

Response, “Burp!”

So I thought I’d really test him out and asked him, “Do you love cleaning?” (Knowing full well he hates it!)

Response, a very strained face with his bottom pressed out and the comment, “That was a fart!”

LOL…you’ve just gotta love his maleness.

As you may or may not be aware, I have four children and they are great kids but sincerely they can be quite a handful.  I love my kids dearly, but they can take me from 0 to 10 on the anger scale in about 5 mins, cause that’s about how long it takes them to trash a clean house!

We have just started the school holidays and I made it my goal that these holidays we are going to nail keeping the house clean and being respectful to one another.  I was determined that I was going to reinstate my rights as the rightful ruler of my house (which have been eroded because of my focus on other things) and that they were going to learn submission if it killed me!  I simply was over all the yelling, bitching and fighting…I was going to make a difference and motivate my group to great success – or so went my daydream!

I would like to think that someone could come to our home at any time of the day or night and that I would not be embarassed.  I don’t really think it’s an unreasonable request that my children participate in house cleaning, but it certainly does become THE issue in our home and often.  So you can imagine how flabbergasted I was when my 7 year old son declared to me on the first day  of the holidays, “Mum, I’m on holidays.  Don’t ask me to do anything cause this is my holiday and that means I don’t have to do anything you say.”

Well, that was a bit like waving a red flag in front of my face!  I proceeded to march him around the house, him screaming at me that he was not going to do anything, and me patiently and quietly suggesting that he will.  There was the 15 minutes of standing facing the wall stand off, but eventually he caved because I kept starting the clock again everytime he screamed at me about the injustice of him having to pick up after himself.

Seriously, when you are able to distance yourself from the emotion it is hilarious to watch the way children try to manipulate their parents to get out of doing stuff!

Wow, if only life could be that simple.  I’d love to be able to declare to my children, my husband, my clients, the whole world in fact that hey, I’m on holidays and don’t ask me to do ANYTHING!!!

Suffice to say, the war has begun and now more than ever I am determined to come out on top.  It’s four against one, but with my brain and brawns I must have some hope of success…don’t I?

As I type this I am in the midst of a war zone with my 12 year old who has declared that she is NEVER doing the dishes again.  Well if I let her win that battle then I’m going to be the resident dish scrubber and surely I should have been promoted by now.  I’ve told her if that if she doesn’t pull her head in I’m going to record her bad behaviour and put it up on Facebook…she blanched.  Mmm…seems like there is still some tricks in the Mummy persuasion tool bag yet.

Love to hear your stories about how you get children to do the things you need them to do.

I used to love moving.  It was such a joy to get a new house and set it up.  I couldn’t wait to arrange the furniture, to hang the curtains and pictures.  But I am just not as young as I used to be.  Now my feet are burning, my legs aching, my back feeling the strain.  It wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to bend to pick up the kids things!  Boy, oh, boy are they messy.

And I guess inside I am making all those new year resolutions like, I’m never gonna let the kids make this much mess again; They are going to have to be so much cleaner, etc.

Well talk to me in a month and I will probably be singing the praises as I have halved the time to get to school and back.  Not to mention having the in-laws just around the corner, so that when we are sick or in trouble, there is someone close by to watch the kids.

One thing that is really bothering me is how safe I am going to feel in this house.  My previous home was on a small block, hemmed in on every side, so intruders had no way of getting into the yard.  Also, I knew all my neighbours and my children played with their children, so leaving the kids home to go to the shop was not an issue.  I guess I’m just going to have to get used to being there more for everyone and not being as free.

The bonus is that my husband will be joining us again shortly.  I guess then there will be the need to change again.  In the meantime, I’m just going to start to feel more gratitude about the whole situation.  Instead of feeling like I’ve had no choice, I’m going to embrace my personal power and find the joy in the moment.

I guess the good news is, tonight I can run a hot bath and have a long soak in the tub!  Bring it on.

“The only safe vaccine is a vaccine that is never used.”
–Dr. James A. Shannon National Institutes of Health

“The evidence for indicting immunisations for SIDS is circumstantial, but compelling. However, the keepers of the keys to medical-research funds are not interested in researching this very important lead to the cause of an ongoing, and possibly preventable, tragedy. Anything that implies that immunisations are not the greatest medical advance in the history of public health is ignored or ridiculed. Can you imagine the economic and political import of discovering that immunisations are killing thousands of babies?” Dr William C. Douglass, M.D. (Honored twice as America’s ‘Doctor of the Year’)

“Only after realising that routine immunisations were dangerous did I achieve a substantial drop in infant death rates. The worst vaccine of all is the whooping cough vaccine… it is responsible for a lot of deaths and for a lot of infants suffering irreversible brain damage. In susceptible infants, it knocks their immune systems about, leading to irreparable brain damage, or severe attacks or even deaths from diseases like pneumonia or gastro-enteritis and so on”. Dr Kalokerinos, M.D.

Do you know what’s in a vaccine?

The simple joy and wonder of seeing hail for the first time, filled our house with a childish buzz of excitement.  There were cries of “my fingers are freezing” and “quick come and look at this”.  It just reminded me of first times and how they fill us with wonder.  I guess that is the down side of growing older – the whole been there done that part of living.

For your viewing pleasure, I thought we’d share our hailstones with you…now to work out whether they are edible or not!

Hailstones in Perth, Western Australia

Some highlights for me were that he was telling me:

1.  We talk adult talk to children and need to stop over explaining EVERYTHING.

2.  We talk way too much to children!

3.  We complicate what can be a simple disciplinary process.

4.  There is no need for there to be agro in disciplining children.

The proof that this program is appealing is in that my husband, who is VERY resistant to any kind of guidance in this arena, actually sat through the entire DVD and came in and said, “It’s great.  I think it will work.  Let’s do it.”

I had been listening to him cackling through the window, so his approval was a bonus.  

And we have implemented it and guess what?  IT WORKS!

For my first child, I went without and you know what?  I ended up in shock for the first few hours of my new babies life.  Why?  Because I had no idea just how painful childbirth was going to be.

My second child, I set out the same pathway,  but when they offered me the gas during transition, I decided I was not as brave as I had been previously, knowing exactly what was coming!  So I said, “Yes, please” and even when they wanted me to stop puffing in the gas I was dragging on it like it was a lifeline!

Baby number 3 was spine on spine and way more painful than the others had been.  This time I opted to go into hospital and get Pethadine administered as the pain was unbearable.  I spent six hours of agony, wondering why I hadn’t opted for the Epidural but reminding myself that it had associated risks I wasn’t prepared to chance.

Then baby number 4 – the boy!  Well I was doing really well.  I just was going somewhere cool in my headspace with every contraction.  But then they decided it wasn’t going fast enough and decided to administer Oxymatocin to get things moving along.  Well I went from “the silent achiever” to “the noisy screamer” in just 1 short hour.  I was begging the doctor to get that baby out, so he obligingly pushed open my cervix, another excruciating agony!  The Pethadine they administered didn’t even touch the sides, and so when this baby was born, I was once again in shock at how awful the birth process had become.  This was one reason why I suffered post natal depression following this child’s birth.  He spent the first 12 hours in a humidicrib and I was the anxious mother unable to hold her babe.

So I guess I am one of those pro-natural baby delivery women, with as little outside intervention as possible, however, a little drug intervention can make the whole process more bearable. I don’t think I would ever describe childbirth as enjoyable! But the end result is always worth the effort.

If you would like to hear more about this, pop over to Blokeslib.com for the debate this week.  Promises to be exciting!

Then after the service, we sipped pumpkin soup from foam cups and ate jam and scones in the rectory.  It was a really lovely service where a few shared their memories of Arthur and the reconnection with my family and friends had only just begun.

We then did the customary visit to the RSL Club, of which my Dad had been a long term member.  He’d taught me how to play Snooker and Darts, but fortunately I’d never developed his love of the pokies.  My brother and his fiance had a punt on the pokies in Dad’s honour and managed to cash in $500 cash between them – we all felt that was Dad’s way of being part of our day.  I played Snooker with my best friend on one table and my brother with his on the next.  The four of us had many adventures as young people and we sat and traded insults as only brothers, sister’s and their friends can.  It was a lovely day, which we decided should extend into the evening and we all gathered together at my girlfriend’s where I was staying.  We played pool and ate pizza.  We clowned around like when we were kids, giving warm fuzzies and laughing until our sides ached.  I would never have imagined that a funeral could bring me so much joy and closure, but Dad’s did.

You see, that is the Martin style of funeral.  My Dad’s side, the Martin side, always celebrated the passing from one world to the next.  They remembered the good things and enjoyed the chance to be reconnected with family and friends.

Not only was my day special but the whole trip fulfilled all my secret desires that I never voiced.  My brother drove me to the funeral and as we passed through the town we’d grown up in, he stopped off at the cemetary where my mother and grandparents are buried.  He allowed me the time to walk and to look, to be moved to tears and he didn’t hurry me to get over it. Then he slowly drove me through the town and showed me where we used to live and where we used to go to school.  Then after the funeral, he took me to my uncle’s farm.  He could not have known how much I wanted to smell the fresh bush air and the stench that comes from cow patties.  Yet, there we were, looking out over a beautiful valley from my Uncle’s house up on the hill.  He also couldn’t have known how much I wanted to catch up with my cousins.  One cousin in particular, whom I’d thought was still living in Sydney, but discovered had moved to the Barossa Valley.  And when I phoned her home and said I was in Sydney, the lady that answered told me I was in luck, because she had decided to go to Sydney for the weekend.  And we met and spent the whole day together.  It was sincerely magical.

And as I reflect back, I can see that my Dad must have been talking to God about how to make my week special.  A week that started with my sister gifting me an airflight and my husband (we are separated) gifting me with money to use on the trip and ended with my flying back to Perth to be met by my family at the airport.

This funeral will be one to be treasured forever.  Rest in peace, Dad and thanks to my lovely family and friends who made my leaving my children for a whole week possible.  You have given me a treasured memory.

I think that the death of a parent is the worst of all deaths to bear.

I guess it will make me hug my kids tighter and love them deeper.  For all those who have lost close loved ones, I am thinking of you today.  May our loved ones be at peace and enjoying their life on the other side.

This is the Eulogy I’ve written for my dad:

FOR MY DAD, ARTHUR MARTIN

Some people live a charmed life

Where everything happens as they plan

But not my Dad

He lived from day to day

And he had to walk through tough times

And often live with the regret of bad decisions

Many may have looked from the outside and shook their heads

But not many saw what he endured on the inside

For although life was cruel many times over

He always had a smile and a hug to offer

He’d give away his last dollar to a mate

And he faithfully served the community through his job at TAFE

These are the things people often didn’t recognise about my Dad

When I reflect back on our life together

We both made mistakes

But Dad was there when I needed him most

And our time together in Perth

Will always be a fond memory in my heart

He brought me ice cream and he danced with me

He always was a smooth dancer

And he hugged me and told me he loved me

He was sometimes forgetful but I didn’t mind repeating myself

He always was the gentle touch in our home

I never took my pains to my mum, always my Dad

And I remember back to when I was at school

And I tore the muscles in my lower back

He was the one to care for me for the three days I was laid up

In fact, he was there for me more times than he was not

So today I thank him for the years of family life

When times were good

When we got to have fun together exploring

I thank him for singing Elvis songs to me as a child

And encouraging me to sing and dance

I thank him for teaching me the guitar

And how to ride a bike

I thank him for rescuing me from the washing machine

And teaching me how to drive a car

I thank him for sharing my wedding day

For walking me down the aisle and giving us his blessing

And I thank him for passing on the red hair to my kids

I will always think of you Dad

When I look at my son with his red hair and twinkling eyes

It is your genes that live on in him

And I hope he inherits the gentle, caring nature

And the spirit of adventure that were yours

Even your love of motorbikes and all things mechanical

You will always be close in our hearts

In Sarah, Elise’s, Emily and Adonijah’s

But especially in mine

You are free now Dad

Free to be without regret, without pain and without suffering

We celebrate you today

So here I am looking at my daughter, who is maturing into a gorgeous young woman and I am starting to see the talent that is evident there. I guess in the past she has told me she is capable of some of the stuff she is now doing with excellence, but did I believe her? I don’t think so. I think I was trying to hold her to where she was and not allowing her to have progressed. Further evidence of this is shown below.

My point in all this is that sometimes we miss the amazing gifts that are right underneath our noses because we get so busy doing life. I missed the opportunity to really nurture this talent in her but despite my lacks, she is stepping out and making it on her own and now I can step in as a support person, cheering her on to greater exploits.

What talents/gifts are there in the people around you that perhaps you are not seeing? It is too easy to always be consumed by perfection, when we are all in a process of metamorphosis. How many songs have gone to the grave unsung because we didn’t take the time to notice, to encourage those around us and to nurture their talents? I’m just glad that despite my poor efforts my daughter is determined to give this whole thing her best. There is a passion in her that I never knew existed, as I  had blindly assumed that I was the only one in the family who was passionate about musical theatre and I am so proud of her.

Maths was her worst subject (she’s excelled at most things always) and I was very surprised and thrilled that just this week we went to an Awards night at her school as she was due to be getting an award. I thought she’d get it for English or Art, which are her two favourite subjects. My husband and I both looked at each other and smiled in amazement, when she was called with just a handful of others that had excelled above the levels of all others in the school and state for mathematics.

You see, in our minds, she was a failure at Maths. Thankfully, in her mind, she was not!!! This also showed me that when we are determined we can overcome our weaknesses. My daughter acknowledged her lack and she applied herself and for that I admire her courage and her ability. Well done, Sarah.

Enough of the mummy pride…just it’s fun to discover that your children are actually more like you than you thought, as she shares my determination, my ambition, my intelligence and my musical gifting. I think she gets some of those things from her father as well, so she’s got a double portion! Look out world!