January 2016

Late last year, Steve and I were invited to two parent evenings with the boy’s schools. One was a parents’ night for Jax’s school, and it was a nice evening. We’re not very good at doing the school thing, but there are some good people and we know we should try harder. Challenging when one of us is often away. However, a week before this I was invited to a ladies’ night for Lex’s school, and as you’ll probably know, Lex is still in a special needs school here in Singapore. This night knocked it out of the park – it was amazing – and I’ve thought about it a lot since. I’d already missed a ladies’ night with this gang earlier in the year. The truth is I didn’t prioritize it because past experiences of parents around special needs schools just hasn’t worked for me. Individuals yes, gangs no. I’m also not the biggest fan of lady only events. I like blokes too. Anyhoo my friend Rachel told me I had to come because the last one was a blast, and well, Rachel knows! I had no idea what to expect, but Rachel was there early with a bottle of Verve on ice, as good as any place to start. Over the next hour the rest of the ladies arrived. All were dressed up and looking fabulous and it was an international crowd, coming from every corner of the globe. They were all ready to party too. As the bubbles did their job (and we only drank Verve that night – quite right) my word what a conversation we had. You see this group of women have something in common that no one without a special needs experience (or seriously ill child) can understand. We’ve all had to come to terms with the worst rejection of all – the rejection of our children – by mainstream schools, special needs schools, families, friends, you name it. This rejection almost always comes with very little empathy. No one understands how much that hurts. We’ve all experienced raised eye brows as our mini-loves do something a little bit weird. We’ve all had to come to terms with the fact – for the short term or the long term – our child will not be able to have a “normal” education and maybe they won’t have a normal life either. We’ve had to come to terms with cultural rejection, especially those who come from societies where any sort of disability is seen as something to be ashamed of. We had many ladies in this category that evening. We’ve had to come to terms with people not being able to see the beautiful souls of our children and can only see the surface challenges. Ahhh the beauty they are missing. We’ve had to come to terms with a world desperate to put a label on our children because it makes everyone else’s life easier, and yet it might be the very thing that destroys our child’s future potential. We’ve had to endure the enormous physical challenges that come with raising a child who has special needs. Some of the children need to be constantly held because they can’t walk properly. Some need to be constantly monitored because they have a different sense of danger. Some are prone to emotional outbursts that are hard to take in public with the judgmental stares of strangers. And while I have not had to face these things with Lex, I have watched parents handle these challenges and I know the exhaustion that comes with it, and the relentlessness that comes with it too. Parenting is already relentless. Parenting with this on top is extremely challenging. We’ve also had to face the emotional anxiety that comes with just wanting your child to fit in, to be accepted, to have the life you want for them. I know Lex will eventually have this, I know this is not the case for everyone. We’ve all had to face our own self-doubts. We’ve struggled with children who demand something you don’t always have the energy to give. For me it’s been patience. For the others I’m sure they have their own thing. And we’ve struggled on so many other levels.  Our struggles have each been unique. But all have struggled on a level of emotional intensity that most people never see in this life. It is raw and it is powerful, because it is about wanting only the very best for your child, and succeeding is not always apparent. The thing is, we didn’t talk about any of this that night and of course, I’m talking for ladies who can talk for themselves. But this was my underlying sense of the evening. The thing we had in common. We talked about a lot of other stuff of course and we were completely outrageous. It was hilarious. I also know that if anyone tried to get into our gang that evening, they would have been promptly told to fuck off. We didn’t need anyone else. My sense was that everyone felt safe being amongst this beautiful gang of women who had been stripped to the emotional bone and survived. We were being embraced within a shared experience. We just didn’t need to talk about it. I can’t think of any other evening where a group of people bonded on such a raw, human level, that can only come from all of us having lived through the agony of a child that is struggling. Whether it’s special needs or a serious illness, I think parents who go through these experiences can relate, and that night, I realized a community like this is important to me too. Why did I stay away from it for so long? I’ve thought about that night a lot since. I loved spending time with those crazy gals. Perhaps it is time for another ladies’ night, but this time a Friday? Shit I had a hangover the next day. For anyone else

He is ready but refused the paper undies Jax had his tonsils and adenoids out five days ago. We’ve been around the traps a few times with kiddy operations, but it seems it’s not something you ever get used to. It rips your heart out and the sweat stress stinks! We’ve been very lucky though, as we have two, strong, healthy boys, so definitely nothing to complain about. They recover fast.   As Jax was waiting to go into surgery, Steve and I were sharing our tonsil memories to distract him (and us) from what was coming. We were also seven at the time, and I remember the experience as clear as day. I remember where my hospital bed was in the kids’ ward, the feeling of love and concern from my parents, the gift I got for being a brave girl, and even the jelly I got to eat. Steve also had very strong memories – also good.   Not bad for almost 40 years after the fact.   At that moment it occurred to me how important this experience could be for our little guy – aka an Inside Out ‘core memory’ moment. Something he could potentially remember much later in life! Shite, there’s some responsibility! Steve we better make this awesome.   So we did our best. Lots of love and concern. Lots of attention and cuddles. But lots of giggles and silliness too. He didn’t come out of the operation with a sense of humour though – that took a couple of days to kick back in. We kept the whole experience light though. How else do you get through these things?   Family selfie pre-op With all that said, if anything is going to lock this in as a core memory, I think it is pain. Jax does not want to go back to hospital. All romance and nonchalance about hospitals is over. He now knows he can go into hospital and wake up with a VERY big ouchie in his throat. Definitely a ‘Not Happy Jan’ moment.   But he’s come through it awesomely and as I write this, he’s out having a Nerf war with the kids in our condo. He’ll be fine to start his new school year tomorrow.   However pain isn’t the only reason for a core memory. Disgust is too. I was three when mum dished up lambs fry. I don’t know why, but she constantly cooked revolting food and the four of us constantly refused to eat it. There was a lot of fighting and tears around our dinner table that’s for sure. But of all the foods she cooked, lambs fry was the worst. Revolting stuff.   This morning. He’s doing great Anyway, this evening I remember sitting at the table refusing to eat it. I got in so much trouble but stubbornness and me were already friends. No way was I putting that foul shit in my mouth. They eventually gave up, but the next day, it was served up as lunch at my pre-school. The staff were instructed that I had to eat it. I didn’t.   They kept going though and at the end of the school day, while all of the other kids were playing just outside the window, I sat with that foul concoction in front of me, still refusing to eat it. I remember my dad came to pick me up that day, and the look of compassion on his face is deeply etched in my memory. I can only imagine how retched tiny-little-me looked, sitting in the window, still refusing to eat it.   I won that battle, and I reckon those sorts of wins are important for one’s development. It’s also impacted how I parent today.   I will never force the boys to eat anything. Encourage, not force. I want them to find their love for the food they eat – whether it’s now or later – because it’s more important that none of their core memories are tied to an unpleasant food moment. I’ve got too many of them and am doing my darndest to make sure my boys don’t. I know they’ll be braver than I when it comes to food.   Core memories are fascinating. Care to share one of yours with me?   Yours, without the bollocks Andrea   BTW I’m on Twitter here, Google+ here, Instagram here, and Facebook too, if you’re interested in the other stuff I share. Feel free to share my blog if you think anyone you know will be interested or entertained. I sure do appreciate it when you do xxxxx

This has been an incredible week with the passing of both David Bowie and Alan Rickman. I often wonder how they’d feel seeing the outpouring of love, admiration and respect following their passing? It’s been powerful. It’s been amazing to see how deeply people have been impacted by both of them in their lives. But mostly, I’ve been reflecting on the influence people can have on us, and yet, we’ve never met them.   David Bowie wasn’t “my” influence. I certainly loved him, but for me it was always Abba as a little gal, and then Freddie Mercury and Madonna as a teenager. They are part of me. They influenced and changed the way I thought. They opened me up to new ideas. They showed me other possibilities for my life. They showed me that having guts and determination is what makes legends. That’s fabulous right? And I’m only getting started on the impact they had on me.   The reflections I’ve seen on social media this week for these two awesome men has really helped me to see and respect that – whoever your “influencer/s” was.   But it also helped me to see something else – and that is how fucking inspiring they both were for different reasons.   Alan Rickman for being one of the finest masters of his craft, and yet he didn’t get his first big international movie deal until he was 41. If you feel you’re getting too old to achieve what you want to achieve and are about to give up, take that as a nice, firm kick in the arse! You’re never too old. The people who knew him also speak of a very fine human being. That’s awesome.   David Bowie, on the other hand, was inspiring for different reasons. He trod paths no one had trod before. He was unashamedly himself. He fought tough issues but he did it elegantly. He was outrageous. He was cheeky. He was honest. He was filthy. He was an outstanding artist. He took risks. He failed. He kept going. He was beautiful. What an impact! He has literally changed the world for the better a little bit, and that’s one hell of a legacy to leave behind.   If I take one thing away from a week when we say goodbye to two great fellas, it is this. Let’s all be a little bit more Bowie and Rickman. Let’s reach for the stars and ignore any fucker that tells us it can’t be done – what do they know? Let’s believe we can, because we can. Let’s live life on the edge and scream our joy of it from the top of the hills, because why not? And while we’re at it, let’s drown out the haters. No space for hate in this world. The reality is, there’s only one truth and it is this – we’re not going to get out of this world alive, so why would any of us play small? Screw that.   I don’t know what my legacy will be, and I have no idea if I have the ability to change the world just a little bit, but if even one person wrote about me with the same regard they are giving to Alan Rickman and David Bowie this week, well then I would be rather pleased with a life well lived.   What do you reckon? What has the impact been on you?   Yours, without the bollocks Andrea   BTW I’m on Twitter here, Google+ here, Instagram here, and Facebook too, if you’re interested in the other stuff I share. Feel free to share my blog if you think anyone you know will be interested or entertained. I sure do appreciate it when you do xxxxx