Core beliefs

Another defining moment today.

I was sharing with someone where I am at.  How I have been making decisions that I don’t want to make and realised that I need to go back to what I believe we as a family NEED to be doing.

He made the comment that what he heard me say is that I am returning to my core values, and am looking at ways to uphold them.

Yes, yes I am. I firmly and resolutely believe that homeschooling is still what is best for us. The decisions I have been making have made that not be possible one day and I keep saying to people how I don’t want to give that up.

So I am not going to. I am going to stay true to what I hold sacred. I can remember screaming down the phone at my ex husband, angry that HE had destroyed all that I had held dear and sacred. I screamed at him, telling him he had made it all worthless. At the time, I truly believed that.

I am returning to that place where what I hold sacred will be just that.  MINE and sacred. Something that no one will be allowed to taint.

One of the things that I hold sacred is homeschooling and our homeschool lifestyle. The rest will take care of itself.

 

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1/3 of the way through 2012

At the beginning of the year, I made plans. Lifestyle changing plans.Things to improve the life that the children and I are living.

As time went on, challenges/obstacles came up in my way. So I would rethink and readjust. The reality is though, nothing has really changed as such.

Sure, we are happy and healthy, but I just feel like I am existing, drifting, and not really heading in the direction where I want to be.

Sometimes I think challenges and obstacles happen by my own making. Sometimes I think they are to develop my character and sometimes I have to wonder if it is the Universe’s way of telling me I am on the wrong path.

I am still a little angry. Angry as some of the choices I am making or have made, I feel have been forced on me. I wouldn’t be making these decisions if ……… The reality is, here I am. A single parent with 3 children at home.

I was sent an article a couple of months ago reminding me of the kind of person I was married to and the impact it had on me. I re read it again today. Something that has struck me is that while I am no longer in that marriage, I am still following some of the negative patterns I learned while I was in it. I haven’t quite broken the cycle. Sure, I have moved forward, yes I see change, but there are times when it’s not my ex husband pulling me down anymore, but me. The train of thought that I learned still bounces around in my head. It’s not as loud as it once was, but it’s still there.It needs to stop.

So, once again, I am stripping back all the crap, taking one step at a time. The toxic needs to be eliminated and maybe that will always be an ongoing thing, but I think until I break this cycle, until I decide what it is I truly want here for us at Mag Mell.

So I am rethinking, yet again the direction I want to go in. Reassessing the whys and the hows. I am fortunate in that I see so many opportunities in front of me. Just which one is the right one seems to be the million dollar question.

So I am still taking 2 steps forward and one step back. Well, at least I am moving forward, right?

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What I really think……

So many times I hold back from saying what I really want to say. I often don’t say what I really think.

Sometimes it’s because I do not wish to offend, sometimes because I look at people and see it would be a waste of time.

I really wonder how people would react if I truly said what’s on my mind.

There have been moments where I have been brutally honest, not about other people, but where I am at.  Some people take it as an opportunity to try and fix me, some to tell me how they think *I* should be living my life.

I have started to look at some of the real life people in my life. They have something to say about everything in my life, yet one thing I am not seeing or feeling from them, is them putting themselves in my shoes. I see them as taking the opportunity to tell me what they think I should be doing. They are not listening. So I shut up and shut down.

 

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Nobody’s Child – Where to begin?

As a parent, I tell each of my children ‘their’ story, of how much Mummy and Daddy wanted a baby, how doctors told me I had a 5% chance of getting pregnant. The story that led them to being here. It’s part of their history.

For my eldest, as I was 21, and the circumstances were different, she has had a different story. Funny thing is, she is 22, and we have just spent Christmas 2011 with my birth mother and her fiancee, and my eldest asked me questions about myself and her father I hadn’t thought to tell her. Yet they are similar to the questions I have asked and wanted to know, so I guess that all children have the same need to ‘know’ their story. And just because Mummy and Daddy didn’t stay together or a child was surrendered for adoption makes no difference. We all have a deep seeded need to KNOW. Hard for those who have always ‘known’ to understand.

My birth mother, E and my birth father, T, met at a Catholic Youth Group. Dated on and off. I was conceived on E’s 20th birthday. WHAT A GIFT !!!

The parish priest was called, of course, and it was decided E would be sent away. Notice, I said, it was decided and choose not to blame any one person in particular.

This was the 60’s Unwed mothers brought shame to the family. And the options that are here today were not there.

E remembers the last time she saw my father T.  As a mother, I can not imagine for one moment what it could have been like. Afraid.

E was sent to another city, to strangers, for the duration of her pregnancy. She believed at the time, that her parents, my grand parents would be adopting me and that she and I would be raised as sisters.

While she stayed with these people, her recollection is of cleaning everyday and helping around the place and being reminded that what she had done was a SIN, and that she needed to be GRATEFUL that someone took her in.

It was an unplanned pregnancy. How many people at their age were sexually active and maybe even promiscious, yet never had to endure the constant reminder of their SIN?

Near the end of E’s pregnancy, she was placed with an Aunt and Uncle who owned a dairy.

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Nobody’s Child -1

I am an adoptee.

My favourite song has always been “Nobody’s Child”.

Though I am not ‘nobody’s child’. Everybody is somebody’s child.

The parenting job for me was split into two roles.

There are my birth parents, the mother and father who conceived me.

There are my adoptive parents, the mother and father who raised me.

Both sets of parents played a part in parenting me.

Part of an upbringing is knowing where you came from. Your eyes, your traits, those little things that you think are ‘yours’ when in fact, they have been partially inherited genetically.

As I had a closed adoption, I had no history. My life started the day I was 10 days old and placed in the care of my adotpive parents. My ‘history’ was closed to me.

In 1985, a law was passed that said adoptees and birth parents could apply for the previously closed birth certificates and obtain the original (or as I call them the ‘true’) in order to find their genetic history. The adoptee had to be 20.

In 1987, I turned 20 and applied for my ‘original’ birth certificate. This started my journey. A journey I thought was just me looking for the woman who gave birth to me, yet turned out to be a whole lot more.

 

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Tuis in the Kowhai tree

So we have been living at Mag Mell for 5 months.

Ex husband has sold Tir na NOg and I am waiting on the money he still owes me.

Mag Mell is a nice place.  I have been complimented on what a nice house we have moved to.

Every compliment, I have smiled but in my head, I have said “But it’s not Tir na NOg.”

That’s right it isn’t. It will never be.

That chapter is over. Finished. Finito.

It’s been an odd time of feeling home here, yet feeling detatched. The things that centred me at Tir na NOg are not here. One thing I loved so much was the trees and how they ‘spoke’ to me. To stand and look at the sea and be at peace.

I am not excited about where I live. Not like I was at Tir na NOg. That place still holds such a magical feel for me.

For the last few days, we have been visited by tuis. There are two beautiful kowhai trees that hang over from the neighbours. It is FULL of beautiful yellow flowers. Tuis LOVE kowhai flowers and drink their nectar. Tuis also have a distinct sound. They sit outside our kitchen window in the trees, singing ALL day.

Over the last couple of days, I have come to realise how pretty it is. Mother Nature talking to me.  The tui sound is very kiwi, and as I feel so ‘Irish’, it is a bit odd, yet I find myself enjoying it.

Today as I listened, the thought struck me, I have been so busy looking back, I haven’t stopped to look at the now.

There is beauty here, and no, not like the beauty of Tir na NOg, but a beauty nevertheless.

I think it’s time to stop comparing. I have done nothing but compare since I have moved here and found here seriously lacking. In doing so, I have missed the beauty that IS here.

I have grieved for so long, and I know grief is a process, but I think it is time for me to be more open to the beauty that IS our new life.

 

 

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Music to my ears

WGO has started dance lessons.

She has her special dance shoes, and she lines up with 6 other little girls and the music starts and her face lights up as she concentrates on the teacher and copies the moves. And in that half hour, I experience such joy as I watch her dance across the floor.

She is very studious at home as SHE now has something that needs practice like her big brothers. When it is practice time here, she now has something to do and shows me proudly how she has remembered what has been done in ‘dance class’.

Younger son has a drum teacher.

The guy is the drummer in a local Blues/Jazz band and is enthusiastic and positive.  Younger son struggles to focus sometimes and follow what is being said and I love the patience and gentleness his teacher shows, all the while being encouraging while instructing my ‘mini Phil Collins’ on his grooves. I have sat in on a few lessons and enjoy what *I* am learning too. There is alot more to drumming than hitting a stick on a snare drum, and my younger son who has always moved and struggles to sit still has found an outlet to move yet be disciplined at the same time.

Older son has a piano teacher.

A really, really GOOD piano teacher. A teacher with a number of years of incredible experiences, the list and awards read like a novelette. A very accomplished tutor and composer in her own right. Her teaching style is very similar to the way we approach homeschooling. She insists that I sit in on the lesson which I am happy to do. I played the piano a number of years ago, and am rusty and to be honest, my son has surpassed me in his ability and general musical knowledge. It is so exciting to see him with his tutor discussing which movement is nice and which is difficult and sharing favourite pieces. I laughed when she showed him her extensive library of music and told him he would be learning all of it. It was lovely to see 2 people on the same page sharing their common love of classical music. I love to see the way in which she challenges him to develop himself. After giving him a HUGE list of pieces to learn, she then told him to learn as little or as much as he wished. A perfect way to approach him. Of course, I know he will work on them all.

I keep going back to how music has brought such healing and joy in a time that was so sad for the children. They still have their sad and mad days, and I think that will happen for a while, as ‘things’ keep happening that bring the feelings of anger, grief, betrayal, abandonment and rejection back to the surface. When those moments happen, I hurt for my kids more than I hurt for myself.

However, those times are now less and these times that I have just described, times that I can see my kids are in the moment, pursuing their passion, these are the moments that I cherish and will continue to nurture.

 

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