The Scariest Thing

Waiting for the subway in Paris. The train arrives and it is packed. Leah gets on and before anyone else can get on, the doors start to shut. The look of horror on her face is burnt into my memory. With some serious hulk strength and help from other people on the train we managed to pull her back through the doors. Leah was shaking. The thought of her trundling off into the distance on her own had us all freaked.

But that is not the scariest thing.

Other things can happen to children.


Is crime, particularly abuse and assault, against children getting worse? It seems like it. Everyone I talk to about this says the same thing "The world is different now...". Is it though? or is it just that we can't escape it anymore?

Shopping centres, schools, day care centres, movie theatres and public toilets...all places kids are targeted.

But what do we do?  Kids need to learn how to navigate people and public spaces independently, for their own confidence and life skills. We as parents have to trust...a bit.

Yes I allow the girls to fetch things from other aisles when we are shopping, go to the bathroom at restaurants and scooter to school. They are together, but not with me. Should I stop it? Am I playing Russian roulette? I want them to do these things, but...

I am writing this because it seems like uncharted territory. You can't do what your parents did. Apparently that is too dangerous now. How do you walk the line of encouraging your children to be confident and to grow up believing that the world is, at its core, a wonderful place and not only protect them but also teach them to protect themselves from potential harm.

I don't live in fear and I won't limit my kids because of a faceless threat. But that is easy for me to say, it's never happened to us.

How I ended up Aussie

I wasn't born here. I am an Australian citizen. I can throw on an Aussie accent that would make Steve Irwin, Slim Dusty and Pauline Hanson shed a tear of pride. My kids are the first generation of my family to be born here. So what does it mean to me to be "Australian"?

Firstly, it means to be funny. We walk the line of irreverent shit giving and good natured self depreciation that makes us some of the funniest people in the world, second only to the Scottish...they just sound funny without having to try.

We are honest. Call a spade a spade or a dickhead a dickhead, as the case may be.

After travelling a bit and seeing a lot, I can also say that we are in the enviable position  of being able take all our luck, safety, isolation, beauty and richness for granted. Apart from days like today.

The story of why my parents decided to immigrate from Zimbabwe, is a small example of the things we don't ever need to think about.

My Mum was pregnant with me. At the time there was civil unrest and armed guerrilla militia were becoming a common sight. My mum was walking on the foot path in a shopping precinct. The foot path was blocked by some militia walking with machine guns towards Mum. Rather than allowing Mum to pass, they pushed her over into the road and traffic. That night, bruised and scared my parents decided to get out of Africa.

Apparently we had the choice to move to Australia or Canada. I am really glad this isn't a blog about the virtues of Maple syrup and snow.

Cheers to being Aussie.

Can someone please hurry the f** up and invent a time machine already??

Like sands through the hourglass... lol, just jokes.

I have just realised that Leah, my 9 year old, won't hold my hand anymore. Even when crossing the street. "Mum, I can see the cars...(eye roll, huffiness)".
What if its not for your safety , child, but mine!?? I hardly remember I am an adult half the time....

All the dolls are gone... slowly merging into a knotty mass of plastic limbs in the black hole of our storage room. Playgrounds??? Nah... lets go to a cafe Mum.

Tooth Fairy?.... hmmm the jury is out on that one. Leah asked some questions and gave a raised eye brow in response to how I am not sure why she thinks its me... But I think the tooth fairy has brown hair ....possibly carrying a few extra kilos...dressed in Pjs....ooops.

Santa is still safe ...mainly cos he is kick arse at giving gifts.

Photos? Not unless an out fit has been styled appropriately with "Rock star" hair and correct filter and I have promised not to put them on Facebook (yes, I lie...I'm a Mum)

Boyfriends...soon, all to frigging soon.

Sigh...  So as we hurtle towards Teenagerhood (shiver), I happily grab Brianna (Miss 8) and give her a big smoochy public kiss while skipping up the road.

Today, here in Perth, there has been a terrible story reported of the loss of innocence and childhood at the hands of a yet - to -be - caught monster for a little 5 year old boy and 4 year old girl. It makes me sick  and heartbroken and I don't, at all, want to make light of it. So while I am lamenting the fast pace of childhood, give them all an extra cuddle tonight.

Don't be scared of the Overshare or the Over, Over Share :)

For that matter, don't be scared to say how you feel, how your day is really going or if you may have just set your world on fire and are now officially screwed.

I am not saying this because I want to know your secrets. I say this because each time you share, really share,
 some one else is thinking "Thank fuck for you, I am not the only one!".

Every time I write a personal story or crap fest on my blog, I cringe and then I think "good, if i am embarrassed or worried, It means it is real, I am not pretending."

Take it a step further, be real on social media. I don't care what filter, what brand, or what colour code the horse shit is... its still horse shit.

I dont give a shit about the latest meme, I care that you are ok.  I care that I am not so ok and maybe one of you is the same and we can talk and laugh and be a bit better. I care that I feel like since I have shared more of myself, more people have my back.

Thank you.

Here is a list of things I am happy/proud about.

Please share things you are happy/proud about too. One day I will get the balls to share things I am not proud of, but today is not that day.

1. My kids, They aren't perfect, but they are pretty cool and a lot weird which make me happy.
2. This blog. I can write, never realised I wanted too until recently
3. I am a pretty good problem solver. Not the paper quiz type but the "how do we pay our mortgage this month", "we only have $20 bucks till payday" kind of problem solver.
4. I am easy going. If Dave wants to play golf every weekend, if the kids want to stay in their pyjamas all day doing interpretive dance, I'm ok with it. I do go pyscho and think "what the F**" but not all the time, maybe not even some of the time.
5. I am strong. Stronger than I seem, stronger than I can show. This last couple of months has proven that to me. I may one day still face a tougher time than I have recently, but I have gotten through this, I can get through that. It will all be ok. I really believe that now.
6, I am middle of the road. Being the "Jack of all trades" and the master of none is something I wear with pride. Bring on the next chapter, the next adventure, the next choice. I am free to choose randomly. The better and more extreme you are about something, the smaller your choices.
7. I have good boobs ... :-)

Share and Over share alike people.