Golden

Sometimes kids can be annoying. They can be silly, they can make annoying noises, laugh at inappropriate things, get ALL of the toys out, not eat their dinner, have to be reminded to do basic, basic stuff, and, you know, just be kids. So annoying.

And other times they aren’t like that at all. They are amazing, and you get a little sideways glimpse of the adults they may become.

We had a weekend like that here.

On Saturday Liam went to a coding workshop at the library. It’s something that he has wanted to do all year, but the course fills up quickly and he has been on a waiting list. It finally began this week. I can’t tell you how excited he was to go, and how bubbly and light he was when he came home. At ten years of age he was one of the younger kids there, yet still he put his hand up to present his coding results at the end of the course, in front of everyone. Who does that willingly? I suspect he is not of our making. He has somehow, in the ten years he has been under our care, made himself.

At times I forget to parent the kids that I have, and try to parent the kids that I think I should have. I try to stop them from reading and writing stories and playing make-believe games with sound effects and mess. I tell them to “get outside”, to kick the footy, ride a bike, run around. And of course they do do those things at times, but that is not what comes naturally to them, or at least, not always. Today is a day off and I asked them what they would like to do, open slather, anything you want. Answer: a resounding chorus of “Pajama day”. So, in trying to parent some other mythical children, I said, “How about a bike ride instead?” They both just looked at me blankly, and Coco said, “Why did you ask us what we wanted, if you were just going to make us do something else?” Fair question. And why would I want my little dudes to be anything other than who they truly are?

For those little dudes did something pretty cool on Sunday.

They planned out an event called ‘The Golden Garage Sale’. They culled their cupboards and collected bits from other people to sell. The made signs, they dressed in gold, and they sorted things into themes. (Coco is still gutted that the goods in her “Pinkatorium” didn’t sell out.). When customers were scarce, they went out onto the main road and danced around with their signs, to drum up business. Liam did some busking, and Coco jumped up and down.

Ready for business

And they did all this for charity.

For gold coin donations.

This was all without direction from us- Liam chose to do it and how it would go. He explained what was going on to all of the customers, and managed to get quite a few donations, as well as sales. Several times during the planning I tried to add things, change the charity, or just generally make it how I thought it should be, and he would quietly say, “It’s my garage sale, Mum.”

And he was right.

This life is theirs for the taking.

They should be allowed to play this game however they like. It’s their game. Their days are just how they should be, the most perfect way for them. Not me, not Nath, not some other kid up the road. Them. And these days are just fine.

In fact, they are golden.

…From The Ashers

Here are the hits of the week from ’round these parts:

1. My new YouTube channel. You may have heard that Edenland has started a lip sync competition in honour of her little brother, so I did one, then another, and now I think I’m getting a bit addicted. Lookout internet world, I know* the words to lots of songs….

2. Liam, for organising a “Golden Garage Sale”. The kids have cleaned out their cupboards and collected some other bits and pieces to have a garage sale this weekend. The money is going to World Vision, and the items won’t be priced, we will just hope people are generous with their gold. I’m proud of them for giving up their stuff and their time to raise some money for other kids.

3. Coco for performing a solo violin piece this week. It was reputedly “Mary had a little lamb”. Regardless of how much my ears were bleeding, I was proud of her for being able to get up in front of an audience to play. No chance I could have done that at seven. Or now.

4. Nurse Jackie. As usual, I’m probably late to the party regarding this tv stuff, but I saw my first episode this week. I’m not sure what it’s all about, but it wasn’t reality television, and it wasn’t a crime show. It was gritty and grotty and I hope I can find it again to see what it’s all about.

5. Painting the house. How good is it? My office was looking a bit tired, so we painted it last weekend, and then I accidentally kept on going, to some other walls, then some balustrades and some skirtings. It’s bloody marvellous- much better than cleaning.

How was your week? Any hits?

Have you done a song for Eden yet?

*Possibly not the correct words.

…From The Ashers

Today I had a feeling of overwhelm. You know those days, when the whelm just threatens to go over you all day? I had no idea of the source, so I just went about my business.

I had a First Aid course to attend, and it was okay. The young presenter was a nice young fella, and he kept the information relevant and as interesting as these kinds of refresher things can be. The content was moving along smoothly, we talked about all things cardiovascular and defebrilley until it was time to get out the mannequins. The demonstrator got out the adult torso and showed us how to compress the chest to a one third depth, to the tune of Stayin’ Alive (One hundred compressions a minute) followed by a breath. No sweat.

Then he got out the kid torso.

I’m not sure if it was the way he picked it up, cradling it carefully like it was an unconscious child, or if it was because, as he lifted it up I flashed back to the time when Coco had a general anaesthetic, and I held her, as she went off to sleep. But that was like no sleep I have ever seen. Her head lolled back and her eyes rolled back in her head, and she was literally a dead weight. Not a good thing to be thinking when you are handing your child over for surgery. I fought back the tears in case there was something in the theory of energy transfer and she would absorb my fears. I kept on thinking, “dead weight dead weight”, then, “don’t think dead, don’t think dead”, and then of course my brain couldn’t think of any other word.

So as our instructor lifted that tiny little torso onto the table to show us how we might bring it (her?) back from the dead, I nearly lost it. My eyes started that burning that means I’m close to crying and I all I could think was, “don’t cry he will think you’re nuts, don’t cry he will think you’re nuts” and then of course my brain just heard crycrycrycry.

The child mannequin that did not look like a child at all. Except to me.

So maybe I am a bit nuts. Or have a wild imagination. Or both.

Then tonight I read Eden’s blog, and I cried for real, so I decided if I was already crying I might as well be nuts as well, so I made a video of me trying to lip-sync to The Black Widow.

I don’t know if if will help Eden at all, but it helped me. Turns out that maybe Eden is right, and music is up there with food as one of our basic needs.

Maybe you could give it a try today too.

Sing out people.

Let the world hear your song.

Have you entered yet? What is “your” song?

…From The Ashers

Have you ever watched Sex in the City? I have never seen a complete episode, until just now. Of course I knew who the characters were- I’ve seen enough for that, so it wasn’t difficult to follow, but my goodness that show is tripe. (And no, I do not like tripe, or, in fact any visceral products.) So why did I watch it? It was the ep where Carrie went to live in Paris, and on her last night in New York she had dinner with her four friends and she said this simple thing:

Today I had a thought, what if I had never met you?

That distilled me, right there.

What if?

What if all of the people that we have loved and then lost in our lives, had never even begun?

What if we never had the opportunity to have our hearts touched, our minds known? What if we never had the privilege of having people in our lives who know who we truly are, understand what our secrets mean to us, and love us for the things we value most about ourselves?

So even though the loss burns and burns, like holding your fingertips on ice until the cold becomes numbness and then inflames, and the pain somehow gets worse with time, not better, what if, what if, we had never met them?

That would be worse.

…From The Ashers

Music and smells, they take you back.

Tonight on XFactor the Jim Morrison-Nick Cave hybrid dude sang The Power Of Love.

One moment I was on the couch with The Silverback and The Evil Geniuses, and the next I was lying on the spare mattress at Lissy’s house pressing Play/Pause/Play on the Pye cassette player, over and over again to write down the words to Frankie’s version of that same song. In the days before iTunes and Goog, that was how we figured out the lyrics, unless we were lucky enough to have a Brashs gift voucher stored up to purchase the actual record, with liner notes and (hopefully) the words, rather than a pirated TDK-60 tape of the album.

Lissy and I were future songwriters- quite possibly the Lennon/McCartney of our generation. She was Paul of course- that girl had a mighty voice, even back then, so I was John- whiney, nasally, and not all that pleasant to listen to, but I could sometimes turn a phrase or two. It is a shame and a crime that none of our recordings have survived, as our version of Kids In America was second only to our fabulous Wham Rap (yes, I still know all the words). We were magnificent back then in the 80s, with our confidence as big as both our hair, and our appetites for Rasin Toast and Super Sippers (Sing it: When you’re sippin’ all day long on a super Super Sipper), and only slightly smaller than our plastic clown earrings and shoulder pads.

Yes, I still have records. Oh well.

By 1984, we had finally tired of This Is Not A Love Song and were ready for a new challenge. Enter: Frankie Goes To Hollywood and The Power Of Love.

1984 was the year we stepped up our musical talents. No more would we just learn the songs verbatim and sing them endlessly and repeatedly and did I mention endlessly, until her brother would come screaming at us to: STOP WITH THE SAME SONG OVER AND OVER AGAIN YOU LITTLE IDIOTS. No, this was the birth of a new era. Something the kids of today call a parody.

It felt like much more than a parody though. We felt like the chick who wrote that hideous fanfic 50 Shades Of Grey must have felt- we were convinced we were creating something unique and beautiful. A tribute, yes, but a hit in its own right. Something that would make us millions, and most likely get us invited to a Frankie show, probably to appear as the secret climax of the evening. Laws knows we looked the part. No one had more Portmans colour co-ordinated fluro accessories than us.

Thirty years have dulled my memory somewhat, but I can still remember some of the adapted lyrics:

The power of rips, A force from the waves, Dragging me out. Something something something. Make surfing, Your goal.

I know, right?

How are we not millionaires, or at least, insanely famous?

I guess it’s just the way of the biz. A mystery, and a loss. To music-kind.

Before you get too upset, I might have forgotten to mention that in Year 10, my singing talents became widely known. I started up at a new school, and some of my friends were part of the school choir. Knowing how great my vocal range was, I went along one day, thinking I might bag myself a spot in the school musical. I’d heard that the guy who played Kenicke (and had pashed Rizzo for real) the year before might be up for another round. The play was called The Boyfriend, so that sounded all kinds of perfect to put some of the tips I’d picked up from Dolly Magazine to the test.

Anyway, I went to choir and I sang my little heart out, giving Miss both barrels of my repertoire: the startling high notes and the booming lows. After a while Miss pulled me aside, and I just knew she was going to ask me to be the new soloist.

“Ummm, Alison, you’re quite good at sport, aren’t you dear?”

“Yes Miss, sure am. Netty, softball, swimming, aths, I’m pretty good at all of ’em. And now this, singing too, so yeah, an all-rounder I guess,” I giggled a little in what I thought was a self-deprecating way, just so she would know I was also humble.

“Ahhh, yes, well, an all-rounder yes. It’s just that I hear they really need you in the, um, sports, so I’m thinking perhaps you’d be better served supporting the school in the, er, sports.”

What a lovely lady. Putting her entire school musical at risk, just to help out the sporting teams. What great school spirit. I can’t remember our school motto, but it surely must have been something like “Sacrifice one, for the good of all.”

Well played Miss.

The Power of Music, eh?

What songs take you back?

Have you penned a parody? Or been kicked out of choir?

…From The Ashers

Here are the hits from a full week (see what I did there?):

1. The full moon.

We had a great view from our deck until the clouds came over at the vital moment of eclipsing. As far as we could tell there was no “blood”- moonie looked the same colour as usual to me- but we still had fun sitting up there and talking about what things we were going to release from our lives.

Liam said he wanted to get  rid of bullying, in all of the world, not just for kids at school. I like the sound of that. Not a bad plan for a better world.

Coco said she would release herself from PKD and homework.

I, of course had a list of limiting beliefs and things I want to improve on.

Nath, as is his wont, said nothing.

2. This little blackboard jotting by Coco. Cool huh?

3. Fun on the Top Deck (also known as Bar Up by the so-called gentlemen, but I didn’t say that) with these two.

It’s always a laugh. They are our ‘pre-kid’ friends, so we have a history of misbehaviour and funny, funny nights together. Life is good when you have dudes like these two in your circle. Cheers B and S. (I haven’t called them that before, but I think I may start.)

4. This from my Instagram feed. I like it.

5. The kid’s school. We love the school holidays, the lazy days, the lack of schedules, all of the fun things we get to do together and don’t seem to have time to do during the normal week. As usual I was sad to see them go off on Tuesday morning, and wanted them back, but it is a relief and a balm to have such a lovely place to send them to. They both have gorgeous, caring and motivated teachers who really do look out for them and are helping us shape and guide them on their paths. Cheers to you school, and to you teachers.

What are your hits this week?

Did you see any bloody moon? And if so, can you send me a pick of it actually red?

…From The Ashers