Deboridah Deborida
Without Prejudice
My girls are noisy and funny and irreverent and live their lives with grace. Wonderful girls that care about others, have since time immemorial. Debbie is tall and well groomed, always, I marvel at her. I think of her Aunties when I look at her, Aunty Pauline and Joy. They were the same, always fashionably dressed and addicted to shopping, of which, Debbie is too. Her wardrobe 80 percent hers and 20% Andrews. And everything is immaculately stored. Proper hangers and shoe storage. I have always been told every woman should have a room for herself and a room for her shoes. Debbie takes that to a whole new level. She could be a top executive, this daughter of mine, so great are her organizational skills.
She works at Berry Street, helping kids in need. The perfect job for Debbie. And she runs her life with style and strict organisation and has fun with her girls too. Beautiful girls, Ashleigh a mini me of Debbie with unbelievably long coltish legs and an outstanding sense of humour, loving the "bad girl" antics of her Grandmother. She runs her own race and loves photography, and is creative and hard working at school and elsewhere. She loves her Dad and Mum very much and is a good daughter, good friend and should be the next Elle McPherson, but she would just laugh at the suggestion. Debbie was the same, never realising how many people stared at her when we went shopping. And at shopping we were both legendary. One time shopping all day at Southland for 8 hours and Debbie was 8 months pregnant. We only stopped when our feet gave out.
She was pregnant then with Georgia,then, who is a dancing, stretching, smiling morsel of delight. Everything is right in Georgias world. She LOVES, loves, loves. Everything! She makes friends easily and is always good to them. She dances, OMG, the kid has talent. She stretches her leg easily over her head, she does the splits and when she is on stage, she is on fire. It's her favourite place and she is at home on stage. She beams, not just smiles, she beams. Lit up, on fire, and as Billy Elliot said,
"It's like electricity"
On stage she is electric, the most enthusiastic, she puts it all out there, conveying her love of dance to the audience. And they feel it, Andrews friend John saying she was a natural after one concert. Now she has solo lessons. Such a lovely bright happy confident girl, loved, loving twirling around the lounge room in her tiny leotard. She doesn't exit a room she pirouettes it. Its a lovely thing to watch. that innocent delight.
Back to Debbie>
She's brave Debbie and will face down anyone in an argument and give them a thump if they really don't get it. She punched out a man once, sending him sprawling down stairs at Lasers and he was thrown out and she wasn't. I've seen her catch a cab and go looking for Kyle when he was stolen once by Simon, his Dad. Carrying a knife that she would have used. When Bob found out I was going out with someone new after he and I had separated he found himself "The Psycho Girlfriend From Hell, Stephanie. I've seen Debbie ram Stephanies car deliberately, tyres smoking in the road and I have alway muchly admired this strong woman that won't pander to bullshit or bullying. She can punch like a man, dress like a lady, swear like sailor (we all do when we get together-the girls and I, knowing women these days swear more and cry less.) I saw her kiss the ugly plastic box her sisters ashes were in, the day we were allowed to hold them just before the first Christmas. She hugged the box to her chest, Kissed it all over and cried. It was terrible to watch and heartbreakingly lovely all at the same time.
She defends the weak, and is a wonderful Mum, wife, friend, daughter, sister (herding her sisters up- like a devoted St Bernard ) wishing they would "Grow the fuck up ) she's a great neice to her Uncles, her father substitutes, George, Ian, David, Winn. They worship her as they should. Her sisters remain determined to run their own lives but she is the first person they will turn to after me when they have a problem. And we all fight when we get together, maybe we need counselling again after all these years, to reconnect as a family, properly. Disconnecting our egos and enjoying shared memories. That's what I would love for her and us.
Bob did his best when we were all together to separate our shared bond against him, the bully, but he couldn't. And in spite of him we share our triumphs and troubles together, gaining strength from each other. And some our problems have been terrible and we always struggled on, sometimes bonded, sometimes hating each others guts, but we did it all together and I am glad we did. because it made us strong and loving and sympathetic to the struggles of others. She is an Amazon among women, Debbie, my first,
And I gave birth to her !
At 18, already wary of my husband and his tempers, and nothing was going to take her away, not ever. She survived "The little green pills" he arranged for someone to bring around so she would not be coming into the world and they just turned my waste to water, but she clung on tenaciously. She survived all the stress of us having to hurry up and get married in Sydney, hundreds of miles from home. When Bob arrived the night before, tired but elated and happy and hugged me to him, she kicked for the first time. A little butterfly kick, right at that second. And he was beyond thrilled.
He looked forward to her birth and reminded me his Mother had carried 8 gallon milk cans until she went in to labour and I did the same. Deciding to take down the cursed venetian blinds in the kitchen of the flat and wash them and then change the entire flat around, furniture everything, Bob would come home after work, and call out down the long hall,
"Janette, where's the bin today?"
Towards the end of pregnancy I was never off my feet and in the last week my blood pressure rose, fast. I was told to rest (yeah!) and take diuretics, the weather excruciatingly hot. We went to Elwood Beach, the Sunday she was due. Me waddling along like a duck, big as a house and I went home and lay on the bed like a beached whale, crying,
"This baby was NEVER coming"
I wailed, feeling sad and sorry for myself. I was soooooo ready. My white wedding suitcase full of pretty nightgowns and Avon soaps, make up, mirror, little clothes smelling of camphor, how I loved that smell. I wanted it to be over, headaches were coming from the rise in blood pressure and it was HOT.
I knew before she was born that she was going to be a Deborah, I had met a girl on the boat who had that name and I loved the song Deborah by T. Rex. So Deborah she was and shortened to Debbie or Deb, my first xoxo
My girls are noisy and funny and irreverent and live their lives with grace. Wonderful girls that care about others, have since time immemorial. Debbie is tall and well groomed, always, I marvel at her. I think of her Aunties when I look at her, Aunty Pauline and Joy. They were the same, always fashionably dressed and addicted to shopping, of which, Debbie is too. Her wardrobe 80 percent hers and 20% Andrews. And everything is immaculately stored. Proper hangers and shoe storage. I have always been told every woman should have a room for herself and a room for her shoes. Debbie takes that to a whole new level. She could be a top executive, this daughter of mine, so great are her organizational skills.
She works at Berry Street, helping kids in need. The perfect job for Debbie. And she runs her life with style and strict organisation and has fun with her girls too. Beautiful girls, Ashleigh a mini me of Debbie with unbelievably long coltish legs and an outstanding sense of humour, loving the "bad girl" antics of her Grandmother. She runs her own race and loves photography, and is creative and hard working at school and elsewhere. She loves her Dad and Mum very much and is a good daughter, good friend and should be the next Elle McPherson, but she would just laugh at the suggestion. Debbie was the same, never realising how many people stared at her when we went shopping. And at shopping we were both legendary. One time shopping all day at Southland for 8 hours and Debbie was 8 months pregnant. We only stopped when our feet gave out.
She was pregnant then with Georgia,then, who is a dancing, stretching, smiling morsel of delight. Everything is right in Georgias world. She LOVES, loves, loves. Everything! She makes friends easily and is always good to them. She dances, OMG, the kid has talent. She stretches her leg easily over her head, she does the splits and when she is on stage, she is on fire. It's her favourite place and she is at home on stage. She beams, not just smiles, she beams. Lit up, on fire, and as Billy Elliot said,
"It's like electricity"
On stage she is electric, the most enthusiastic, she puts it all out there, conveying her love of dance to the audience. And they feel it, Andrews friend John saying she was a natural after one concert. Now she has solo lessons. Such a lovely bright happy confident girl, loved, loving twirling around the lounge room in her tiny leotard. She doesn't exit a room she pirouettes it. Its a lovely thing to watch. that innocent delight.
Back to Debbie>
She's brave Debbie and will face down anyone in an argument and give them a thump if they really don't get it. She punched out a man once, sending him sprawling down stairs at Lasers and he was thrown out and she wasn't. I've seen her catch a cab and go looking for Kyle when he was stolen once by Simon, his Dad. Carrying a knife that she would have used. When Bob found out I was going out with someone new after he and I had separated he found himself "The Psycho Girlfriend From Hell, Stephanie. I've seen Debbie ram Stephanies car deliberately, tyres smoking in the road and I have alway muchly admired this strong woman that won't pander to bullshit or bullying. She can punch like a man, dress like a lady, swear like sailor (we all do when we get together-the girls and I, knowing women these days swear more and cry less.) I saw her kiss the ugly plastic box her sisters ashes were in, the day we were allowed to hold them just before the first Christmas. She hugged the box to her chest, Kissed it all over and cried. It was terrible to watch and heartbreakingly lovely all at the same time.
She defends the weak, and is a wonderful Mum, wife, friend, daughter, sister (herding her sisters up- like a devoted St Bernard ) wishing they would "Grow the fuck up ) she's a great neice to her Uncles, her father substitutes, George, Ian, David, Winn. They worship her as they should. Her sisters remain determined to run their own lives but she is the first person they will turn to after me when they have a problem. And we all fight when we get together, maybe we need counselling again after all these years, to reconnect as a family, properly. Disconnecting our egos and enjoying shared memories. That's what I would love for her and us.
Bob did his best when we were all together to separate our shared bond against him, the bully, but he couldn't. And in spite of him we share our triumphs and troubles together, gaining strength from each other. And some our problems have been terrible and we always struggled on, sometimes bonded, sometimes hating each others guts, but we did it all together and I am glad we did. because it made us strong and loving and sympathetic to the struggles of others. She is an Amazon among women, Debbie, my first,
And I gave birth to her !
At 18, already wary of my husband and his tempers, and nothing was going to take her away, not ever. She survived "The little green pills" he arranged for someone to bring around so she would not be coming into the world and they just turned my waste to water, but she clung on tenaciously. She survived all the stress of us having to hurry up and get married in Sydney, hundreds of miles from home. When Bob arrived the night before, tired but elated and happy and hugged me to him, she kicked for the first time. A little butterfly kick, right at that second. And he was beyond thrilled.
He looked forward to her birth and reminded me his Mother had carried 8 gallon milk cans until she went in to labour and I did the same. Deciding to take down the cursed venetian blinds in the kitchen of the flat and wash them and then change the entire flat around, furniture everything, Bob would come home after work, and call out down the long hall,
"Janette, where's the bin today?"
Towards the end of pregnancy I was never off my feet and in the last week my blood pressure rose, fast. I was told to rest (yeah!) and take diuretics, the weather excruciatingly hot. We went to Elwood Beach, the Sunday she was due. Me waddling along like a duck, big as a house and I went home and lay on the bed like a beached whale, crying,
"This baby was NEVER coming"
I wailed, feeling sad and sorry for myself. I was soooooo ready. My white wedding suitcase full of pretty nightgowns and Avon soaps, make up, mirror, little clothes smelling of camphor, how I loved that smell. I wanted it to be over, headaches were coming from the rise in blood pressure and it was HOT.
I knew before she was born that she was going to be a Deborah, I had met a girl on the boat who had that name and I loved the song Deborah by T. Rex. So Deborah she was and shortened to Debbie or Deb, my first xoxo
