Holiday At Chez Femme
Without Prejudice
Every one is away this year, Deb and family at Eden and Alena and hers at Phillip Island. Yvette and I have little ones aged 3 and 15 months and then Kyan nearly 8 and Jai, 13 and Brock 15. We love them to bits but the thought of moving the entire family out of here en masse remains a struggle.
Kids hate hot cars and so we built an adventure playground in the back garden with a tent and whacking soccer ball and tennis ball. We mow the lawns or I do in a hateful task and and know the little boys like it close cropped. They play on it more.
Yvette in a one piece and lying on a lounger and is determined to get a tan and the boys buzz around her and drive her nuts and she smiles at them indulgently. or tells them to push off as they get too close with their spray bottles.
Little boys loooooove Mummy, and want hugs and ensure she is always around. if not they come looking for me and Acer had one Christmas choccy nine days ago and has returned every day seeking another.
We are ironic about our backyard holiday as it's so much easier if we don't have upset kids, screaming when unsettled. And it's a big backyard. We have the tent but could put a cover over the washing line. Not the heavy tarp we have in the shed, probably full of earwigs or those ugly black spiders that just ooze malevolence.
The boys, even the big ones, hate spiders and shriek like girls if they see one and run for the Fly Spray and drown it. I just pick up a thong and squish it, preferring to see it dead, sooner. Acer at 3 thinks every tiny bug is a "Pida" and squeals until we get rid of it.
I met to women recently that live like me, cheek by jowl with their kids, one said she lived in a Shoebox" in her daughters garden. She was a lady that gave me a lift from the station when I went for The Millionaire Audition.
Another lady that looked about 65 told us she was actually 82 and looked stunning had bought with her son a shared property. the family living in the main house and she and her hubby living in a unit tucked in at the rear. The husband died 12 months ago and it makes her skin itch that the garden is a mess now that he is not there.
Yvette and I murmur our sympathy and she is quite circumspect,
"Bloody idiot wouldn't stop smoking and drinking, no wonder he died"
We leave her to examine the $3 tops at Coles and continue on our way to collect shorts and tops for Summer, gob smacked at how good she looks.
This is a refreshing I have noted with the 80 year olds and older, they are just happy to be alive, and are wearing great clothes and live comfortable lives, surrounded by family and kids and support groups and interests and hobbies.
One lady, one of many I met when I came to their homes to provide cleaning and company was bent double with Osteoporosis. She was the most divine, funnt and fatalistic woman I had ever met. Incredibly brave. She said she was 96 and felt like she had had enough. She was ready to go.
I was silent as i thought she meant dying.
"I'm ready to go into a home", She said instead.
"I go in for respite and I like it there."
And I could understand that. her daily routine consisted of someone coming in to shower her, and me to clean another to shop for her. She took the meals on wheels, even though she said, it wasn't the same as her cooking. But what was the point of cooking for one?
She gave me loads of bodice ripping books to read and her place was not in need of a clean, it was spotless. Another old dear had fallen at home, in her massive house in Cheltenham, ironically falling against the only glass door in her home and had passed out and cut her head.
her family of 8 children, 2 deceased, freaked and put her in respite for a week and she said she had hated it. All the others suffering from Dementia and hardly ever speaking. But if you went from your room seeking heartiness and cheer, you were met with silence.
Although they made their agitation known if you pinched their special chair in the share lounge, so she just went back to her room. her family wanted her to have another week in respite and she flatly refused.
She was quite well and walked with a shuffling gait with the frame the Respite provided.
She mentioned the war and I asked her if she minded if I asked her how old she was and she said, 95. no family to be seen then, her with a bandaged cut on her head and she made me a cup of tea and had her day planned out.
They all have their shows they watch religiously, they read the papers, weigh themselves daily and conserve water. They are "old school". in that they recycle everything and are happy as long as their needs are taken care of.
One lady was delighted to be getting a week's respite from her invalid husband, she seemed almost ready to party such was her happiness. Another I had to vaccum around as he lay in his bed resting and his wife had said,
"Don't worry about the noise, he's as deaf as a post", she was quite cheerful about it.
I loved their homes. big and high celinged and spacious and reeking of bygone times. Big roomy houses in Cheltenham, a genteel well heeled suburb. kitchens with all the decorations of the 50's and if they were good they had left the decor as it was.
beaded jug covers and mesh cake umbrellas and photos of the kids and grand kids and all echoingly too big and too lonely I thought. There were little units I did too. One man, a Father to a famous actress, who had been a high flyer and power broker, left crippled after a stroke.
He lived on his own and tried as hard as he could to be independent. He recalled his high flying days and was at a power lunch when he realised he was having a stroke. End of high flying life, the money, the cars and the fame. I felt so sorry for him but he was cheerful. he said, there is no bigger addiction than Power.
I guessed that is why he had wanted that sort of lifestyle and it was gone within a few minutes. None of his so called friends came to see him and he was so proud of his Actress daughter, but she and her family lived in another state.
I loved the older single jewish man. he had come back to his house after years spent living in Queensland and then all his friends died up there. So he came back to melbourne, needed a back operation and was in rehab for 3 months.
A distant second cousin found him, a 50 year old fermale and she organised his home help and house. he was fiercely independent, tall and Particain nose and din't know what to quite make of me as I was female and in his kitchen. He explained all the jewish rituals to me and I had no idea they were so strict and all encompassing.
he had a little business which kept him occupied, computer parts selling and the whole house seemed to be brown and dingy all the time. I liked him though, he was intelligent and curious and even though he was uncomfortable at me being there he did his best not to show it.
He loved junk mail and spent hours poring over it and grabbing the best bargains. he showed me and how to compare and i have alwys been of the ilk to just throw it, in case I am tempted to rush out and but something in it.
he was so solid in his beliefs and in his not feeling sorry for himself. he told me women were not to be trusted as a Woman broke his heart when he was young and that was it. What an over inflated ego I thought. we all get rejected at times but we just have to pick ourselves up and get back in the fray.
Isn't that what life is about ?. Nothing feels as good as love of another, be it adult, child or pet. Well that's the way I feel and surround myself by them as they are my greatest invention and source of inspiration.
Maybe his was his faith and it kept him sustained but he made me sad just the same. to me that was a waste of a life. My ex husbands two uncles were the same, choosing the ascetic life after being rejected just once. One turning into an alcoholic and looked after by his elderly Mother in a cravan in the back yard.
Another coming home from the War and finding out his girl had another boyfriend and he also gave up on love and also lived in a caravan in his Mothers backyard. He was such a shy taciturn man, gentle and sweet. He was a lovely man and I could only wonder at his loneliness.
Meanwhile back to backyard holidays. They are fun, we found old sprinklers from the 50's and the little boys play with them all afternoon, shrieking and running through the sprays and standing over them to soak themselves in coolness.
The moulting husky sheds over us all and when Jai feeds her she lies down to eat. We laugh at her slothfulness and barrel like appearance and she licks us with her rough tongue. No matter how big the yard is the boys revolve around Yvette like satellites, closer and closer to her and she threatens them to leave her alone.
She wants no kids this holidays and she is stuck with them and complains but you know secretly she loves it. She would be bored within 5 minutes if they weren't here and besides we get respite from the two little ones on Fridays and Mondays. That's when we plan to do all out "stuff", hair and nails and shopping and gossiping and lying down on the floor and not moving for at least 15 minutes.
Ha ha, like that happens. we work and work and work and it's Groundhog day every day and at times we wonder why we do it. Kids are relentless and don't let up and if you have bought them the console there is always one more game they have to have.
But Summer is here and the backyard of Chez Femme beckons, with its many play areas and paths and toys and amusements. The tap is the biggest one and after Acer snapped off two expensive tap fittings we bought a cheap one that he can snap. And tell him not to. he's having a hard time understanding naughty boundaries at the moment.
He would like there to be none, but we know there have to be, and Cruz is just starting to throw tantrums at 15 months and we knew that would happen. It's always 15 months.
We must be the most experienced Mothers, ever, as we have raised so many now. Not just ours either, others. There can always be another meal to spare or mattress or bed, comfort, a shoulder to cry on. But know we have tightened that all up as we never get sick of the boys but we do get tired of their friends.
Not that with the teen ones you see them that much, but our boys show off and get excited and we always have extras and yet our boys won't go to their houses in return. They don't have PS or Xbox or they don't like the food or something, they are such "Home Boys".
Every one is away this year, Deb and family at Eden and Alena and hers at Phillip Island. Yvette and I have little ones aged 3 and 15 months and then Kyan nearly 8 and Jai, 13 and Brock 15. We love them to bits but the thought of moving the entire family out of here en masse remains a struggle.
Kids hate hot cars and so we built an adventure playground in the back garden with a tent and whacking soccer ball and tennis ball. We mow the lawns or I do in a hateful task and and know the little boys like it close cropped. They play on it more.
Yvette in a one piece and lying on a lounger and is determined to get a tan and the boys buzz around her and drive her nuts and she smiles at them indulgently. or tells them to push off as they get too close with their spray bottles.
Little boys loooooove Mummy, and want hugs and ensure she is always around. if not they come looking for me and Acer had one Christmas choccy nine days ago and has returned every day seeking another.
We are ironic about our backyard holiday as it's so much easier if we don't have upset kids, screaming when unsettled. And it's a big backyard. We have the tent but could put a cover over the washing line. Not the heavy tarp we have in the shed, probably full of earwigs or those ugly black spiders that just ooze malevolence.
The boys, even the big ones, hate spiders and shriek like girls if they see one and run for the Fly Spray and drown it. I just pick up a thong and squish it, preferring to see it dead, sooner. Acer at 3 thinks every tiny bug is a "Pida" and squeals until we get rid of it.
I met to women recently that live like me, cheek by jowl with their kids, one said she lived in a Shoebox" in her daughters garden. She was a lady that gave me a lift from the station when I went for The Millionaire Audition.
Another lady that looked about 65 told us she was actually 82 and looked stunning had bought with her son a shared property. the family living in the main house and she and her hubby living in a unit tucked in at the rear. The husband died 12 months ago and it makes her skin itch that the garden is a mess now that he is not there.
Yvette and I murmur our sympathy and she is quite circumspect,
"Bloody idiot wouldn't stop smoking and drinking, no wonder he died"
We leave her to examine the $3 tops at Coles and continue on our way to collect shorts and tops for Summer, gob smacked at how good she looks.
This is a refreshing I have noted with the 80 year olds and older, they are just happy to be alive, and are wearing great clothes and live comfortable lives, surrounded by family and kids and support groups and interests and hobbies.
One lady, one of many I met when I came to their homes to provide cleaning and company was bent double with Osteoporosis. She was the most divine, funnt and fatalistic woman I had ever met. Incredibly brave. She said she was 96 and felt like she had had enough. She was ready to go.
I was silent as i thought she meant dying.
"I'm ready to go into a home", She said instead.
"I go in for respite and I like it there."
And I could understand that. her daily routine consisted of someone coming in to shower her, and me to clean another to shop for her. She took the meals on wheels, even though she said, it wasn't the same as her cooking. But what was the point of cooking for one?
She gave me loads of bodice ripping books to read and her place was not in need of a clean, it was spotless. Another old dear had fallen at home, in her massive house in Cheltenham, ironically falling against the only glass door in her home and had passed out and cut her head.
her family of 8 children, 2 deceased, freaked and put her in respite for a week and she said she had hated it. All the others suffering from Dementia and hardly ever speaking. But if you went from your room seeking heartiness and cheer, you were met with silence.
Although they made their agitation known if you pinched their special chair in the share lounge, so she just went back to her room. her family wanted her to have another week in respite and she flatly refused.
She was quite well and walked with a shuffling gait with the frame the Respite provided.
She mentioned the war and I asked her if she minded if I asked her how old she was and she said, 95. no family to be seen then, her with a bandaged cut on her head and she made me a cup of tea and had her day planned out.
They all have their shows they watch religiously, they read the papers, weigh themselves daily and conserve water. They are "old school". in that they recycle everything and are happy as long as their needs are taken care of.
One lady was delighted to be getting a week's respite from her invalid husband, she seemed almost ready to party such was her happiness. Another I had to vaccum around as he lay in his bed resting and his wife had said,
"Don't worry about the noise, he's as deaf as a post", she was quite cheerful about it.
I loved their homes. big and high celinged and spacious and reeking of bygone times. Big roomy houses in Cheltenham, a genteel well heeled suburb. kitchens with all the decorations of the 50's and if they were good they had left the decor as it was.
beaded jug covers and mesh cake umbrellas and photos of the kids and grand kids and all echoingly too big and too lonely I thought. There were little units I did too. One man, a Father to a famous actress, who had been a high flyer and power broker, left crippled after a stroke.
He lived on his own and tried as hard as he could to be independent. He recalled his high flying days and was at a power lunch when he realised he was having a stroke. End of high flying life, the money, the cars and the fame. I felt so sorry for him but he was cheerful. he said, there is no bigger addiction than Power.
I guessed that is why he had wanted that sort of lifestyle and it was gone within a few minutes. None of his so called friends came to see him and he was so proud of his Actress daughter, but she and her family lived in another state.
I loved the older single jewish man. he had come back to his house after years spent living in Queensland and then all his friends died up there. So he came back to melbourne, needed a back operation and was in rehab for 3 months.
A distant second cousin found him, a 50 year old fermale and she organised his home help and house. he was fiercely independent, tall and Particain nose and din't know what to quite make of me as I was female and in his kitchen. He explained all the jewish rituals to me and I had no idea they were so strict and all encompassing.
he had a little business which kept him occupied, computer parts selling and the whole house seemed to be brown and dingy all the time. I liked him though, he was intelligent and curious and even though he was uncomfortable at me being there he did his best not to show it.
He loved junk mail and spent hours poring over it and grabbing the best bargains. he showed me and how to compare and i have alwys been of the ilk to just throw it, in case I am tempted to rush out and but something in it.
he was so solid in his beliefs and in his not feeling sorry for himself. he told me women were not to be trusted as a Woman broke his heart when he was young and that was it. What an over inflated ego I thought. we all get rejected at times but we just have to pick ourselves up and get back in the fray.
Isn't that what life is about ?. Nothing feels as good as love of another, be it adult, child or pet. Well that's the way I feel and surround myself by them as they are my greatest invention and source of inspiration.
Maybe his was his faith and it kept him sustained but he made me sad just the same. to me that was a waste of a life. My ex husbands two uncles were the same, choosing the ascetic life after being rejected just once. One turning into an alcoholic and looked after by his elderly Mother in a cravan in the back yard.
Another coming home from the War and finding out his girl had another boyfriend and he also gave up on love and also lived in a caravan in his Mothers backyard. He was such a shy taciturn man, gentle and sweet. He was a lovely man and I could only wonder at his loneliness.
Meanwhile back to backyard holidays. They are fun, we found old sprinklers from the 50's and the little boys play with them all afternoon, shrieking and running through the sprays and standing over them to soak themselves in coolness.
The moulting husky sheds over us all and when Jai feeds her she lies down to eat. We laugh at her slothfulness and barrel like appearance and she licks us with her rough tongue. No matter how big the yard is the boys revolve around Yvette like satellites, closer and closer to her and she threatens them to leave her alone.
She wants no kids this holidays and she is stuck with them and complains but you know secretly she loves it. She would be bored within 5 minutes if they weren't here and besides we get respite from the two little ones on Fridays and Mondays. That's when we plan to do all out "stuff", hair and nails and shopping and gossiping and lying down on the floor and not moving for at least 15 minutes.
Ha ha, like that happens. we work and work and work and it's Groundhog day every day and at times we wonder why we do it. Kids are relentless and don't let up and if you have bought them the console there is always one more game they have to have.
But Summer is here and the backyard of Chez Femme beckons, with its many play areas and paths and toys and amusements. The tap is the biggest one and after Acer snapped off two expensive tap fittings we bought a cheap one that he can snap. And tell him not to. he's having a hard time understanding naughty boundaries at the moment.
He would like there to be none, but we know there have to be, and Cruz is just starting to throw tantrums at 15 months and we knew that would happen. It's always 15 months.
We must be the most experienced Mothers, ever, as we have raised so many now. Not just ours either, others. There can always be another meal to spare or mattress or bed, comfort, a shoulder to cry on. But know we have tightened that all up as we never get sick of the boys but we do get tired of their friends.
Not that with the teen ones you see them that much, but our boys show off and get excited and we always have extras and yet our boys won't go to their houses in return. They don't have PS or Xbox or they don't like the food or something, they are such "Home Boys".
