A Guns N Roses Christmas Day
Without Prejudice
Lauren loved Guns N Roses so today I put on Sweet Child Of Mine just after 10am and blasted the neighbourhood with it in celebration of a life well lived. I didn't play Patience as that would just make me cry. I was a bit apprehensive about today, Christmas Day as I usually hate it. But I felt out my body parts and mind and I felt alright. I didn't have the usual angst I feel at this time of Year.
The little darlings were up early and came in with their big water guns and I kissed them and hugged them and gave them their pressies, sensible stuff like tee shirts which they just flicked. But Acer I gave a big cow to and he loved it. He has an obsession with stuffed cows and the new one was twice the size of the old one and a whole lot cleaner. He decided he liked both. The old one looking very grubby and flat.
Cruz at 2 just wanted the wrapping mainly and to open everyone elses presents. Yvette has always done her boys proud on Christmas Day and the older boys said that to her and that was one of the best presents she received. The fact that they know their Mum has always put on a great Christmas for them.
I was totally blown away by my presents this year. Little darlings, a Bunnings voucher which I wanted. Yvette raised her eyebrows when I asked for one but I LOVE Bunnings and want to buy heaps with it. And a water filter big thing for filtered water from the other Mum, Peters Mum. Yvettes fiance. And things from Pam, Yvettes ex partner, Simons Mum. I am so lucky.
I only finished wrapping presents this morning as I have so many kids, partners, their kids, the list goes on. But I love giving presents and always want to see them unwrapped. Yvette I bought a marquisite watch, old and collectable and winds up, no battery. Just gorgeous and tiny crystal animals, also very old. The boys smashed all her others and she was well pleased.
Big boys had tees and Zach received a mini fridge for his room from Yvette, which he wanted. I went inside to the main house and there was a present explosion. You can imagine with 7 boys. Toys and wrap and cards everywhere. Yvette was exhausted and needed her roots done so I dragged her into my unit, protesting madly.
I finally got her into a chair and she wanted me to play Boney M, a christmas song. So I put on So Fresh, Christmas 2010 and we talked as I did her hair. I said she had a happy childhood, didn't she and she said yes. You and Dad were happy then and we had everything we ever wanted. She remembered when she was 6 and her Dad brought down her new baby doll and pram to Phillip Island where we were on Holiday.
She remembered Alena being born when she was 3 and a half and her Dad at South Eastern Hospital with a white gown on and holding the new baby and holding her up to Deb and Yvette, who had to stand at the doorway of the room, dressed in their P.J's and fluffy slippers and dressing gowns that Grandma had made them. She can recall so much of her childhood and she said it only really became unhappy when the girls were older.
I'm glad she thinks of it like that and that we protected them from us and our unhappiness with each other. That cheers me up as I have discovered with therapy that my own childhood wasnt as happy as I liked to think. A mentally ill Mother from the war shock and schizophrenia, losing a brother when I was just 5 and being sent away for 3 months as soon as he died. Not being able to talk about him, then moving all the time. Poor and keeping secrets.
I realise now my girls never lived the life that I did as a child and that means I have done my job as a parent. That my husband and I worked hard for our kids and loved them very much. He couldnt be as affectionate as I was but he certainly was a good provider. He tried his best and the ugliness came later. And that I was as much to blame as him as I tolerated his violence. I never let on to the girls what was really going on but I am sure they absorbed some of it.
Anyway, it matters little now. They are grown women and are certainly all successful in their lives. Bright, strong. They do alright and now its time for Mama.
I waxed off her tough eyebrows as well and rubbed cream into her skin, feeling the strong bones in her face. We werent disturbed by the boys, once. It was girly time with a vengeance. The hair turned out well and she rushed inside to put on her new dress and shoes, just like every Christmas Day I can remember.
When the girls were little we always bought them new clothes for Christmas Day and then took off to the fram at Soldiers Road Loch to my In Laws dairy farm. Where Gwen, my Mother IN Law would cook the most amazing Christmas dinner, ever. A simple farmers wife, everything was fresh and home grown and divine. We had fresh chicken and goose and sometimes turkey and freah veggies from the garden and crean and milk from the dairy.
The pud always had five cents in, the christmas cake frosted in marshmallow, the mince pies from Nana Wooley, Gwens Mum, made to an English recipe with some sort of alcohol in and a buttery melt in your mouth pastry that had egg and "best butter" in. They were served at afternoon tea and dinner was ham and salad with bread and butter pickles with mustard seeds and the cucumbers from the garden. By the time we headed for home we were stuffed full and the girls would fall asleep in the back of the GT.
Often we stayed for the hay baling, all of us helping. The hot days and the sun burning our skin and turning us brown and some of the family almost black in their elbow creases. My Father in Law always in a pork pie hat sweat running down his fair skin and the Sunday wrestling every Sunday which he watched and mimicked all the movements and believed it was real. Ah, Mario and Jack.
So Aussie.
The combustion stove had to be left on for the hot water and the kitchen was like an inferno on some days. When Deb was a baby we put wet sheets over her bassinet and turned the fan on. I was 18 then. We were so in love and adored our baby. She was a good baby, placid and sweet and I had another 12 months later. Yvette and ended up in Korumburra Hospital with complications from the birth over the holidays. So lonely and bored as all hands were on deck for the hay and the milking and the minding of the two babies.
When Yvette was gone I jumped in the shower and dressed for the Christmas Day at Yvette's fiance's sisters place. I dithered about what to wear and decided on a simple black sheath and cardi and loved the way the dress just flowed over hip and bust. A size 12 and two years ago I would have easily been a size 18 to 20. A statement necklace and heels and I was done. I had new shoes but went for retro heels that I can stand to wear all day.
As I drove to the house with my basket full of pressies I reflected that I no longer felt the emptiness I have always felt on Christmas Day. It was gone. The Gunners had helped me rid myself of the angst and anxiety. I realise she is never coming back. But that she would want me to be happy and I checked my mood and I did feel happy. Looking forward to a Christmas Dinner with family and friends and noise and chaos. Kisses and hugs and more presents, food and treats and I realised I am truly blessed. My life is full.
Peters Mum greeted me at the door. She is fighting the battle of her life with cancer and is so tiny she looks like a child.
"You look wonderful", she said. She hasnt seen me since I lost all the weight and I felt almost guilty as I looked into her morphine eyes with all colour and "pinned" pupils and felt guilty that I was so healthy and she was not But not sad as she wasn't sad. And outside there were three packs of cigarettes, so large you could have put a strap on them and called them a handbag.
The new house was huge and loads of kids everywhere, he 80 year old Nana, who keeps threatening to move out and never does. Peters Father died two years ago, he was 55 and ropped ead of a heart attack at work. It was such a shock s he was a robust man. Peters Mother has never recovered really, they were madly in love. And Peter thinks that his Dad is calling for his Mother and wants her with him.
I cant believe how candid she is about her cancer. She didnt have a pap smear for 11 years, her fault she siad and ended up with cervical cancer, thats gone now although the cervix is still there which surprised me.
inoperable, she said but they got the cancer, now she has a tumour near a vertebrae and in her lymph nodes. She starts radiation next week and has had the chemo and she says its "shitful". Knocks her around, she still has a good head of hair and I wonder if that was me would I go on fighting ? But I don
Her daughter has put on the most gut groaning spread ever. There is turkey, hot ham glazed, chicken made by the Uncle who is a chef . Cauliflower cheese and all the vegetables, two different gravies, stuffing, cracling on the pork and we pile it all on paper plates. I sit next to the 80 year old Nana and we talk for ages. She lives with the family and has her own room. I am shocked as she suddenly cracks it with the hyperactive 13 year old boy of the family.
I lean toward her and say quietly, its just one day and all kids are noisy and mine havent even arrived yet. I ask her when she is moving as she has said she wants to move to a retirement home to be with people her age. She says she has been looking for months as she wants to stay in the area. Narre Warren South. But its all too expensive. I tell her of a friend that was able to buy in Box Hill
She says that would also be good as her son ( who sits next to her ) lives in Southbank
, he is the Chef.
He doesnt seem very friendly and seems to have a certian attitude and is about 47, never married or had kids. I watch him, and guess correctly he must own the new mini parked outside. The Nana talks about him as if he is not there and you can see she adores him and I wonder why she is paying him more attention than her daughter who is so ill. He must have somehing wrong with him as he seems "special". He mentions he is taking Nana to Les Miserable tomorrow. I mention Hugh Jackman ... is supposed to be fabulous as Jean Val Jean and she turns to the son and says thats his name, the one we couldnt think ofs name.
I metion that I want to take Kyan, 8 to see the Life Of PI and someone else is off to see The Hobbit. Nana doesn't fancy the Hobbit and she hates all those movies written by the lady that wrote on the train and was very poor.
J.K Rowling and Harry Potter I ask ? and she says yes them, I hate them.
I don't know how much I fancy seeing people burst into song every 5 minutes in what is supposed to be a drama but I keep my mouth firmly shut. The desserts are about to be served and I said I was not going to stay long.
I have starved myself in anticipation of this dinner for two days and fall on all the food like a ravenous beast. There is trifle and Pavlova and green jelly in cups with a chocolate frog in each. There is chocolates and home made Chrsitmas cookies decorated with green and red icing and cachous balls. Afterwards I look down at my dress and it is covered in food. Sparks must have flying off my spoon. I am such a grub. I show Yvette and tell her I am a messy pig and she says its not me, other people fling it at me which is an in joke and everyone laughs.
I even grab more treats on my way out the door for after.
And then it is all done and I can finally go home. Which I do, drink some Eno's and ring my Brither who has left a message and a male friend, same. I catch up on their days and then strip my food stained dress off, step out of my shoes and watch my secret addiction show, The Bold and The Beautiful and fall asleep with my fat belly full and perfectly happy to be on my own for a few hours before the tribe gets back.
I could not live under the same roof as my kids and grandkids the way Nana does. I would have to have killed them within days. I like my solitude too much. I told her to look in Cranbourne as well, the old part of Cranbourne nearer to the shops. We are in the grand part, Cranbourne East, opposite The Hunt Club, although some bad people have renamed the Hunt Club with a word that rhymes with Hunt and is not very nice.
Cranbourne has always had a certain reputation and I was a total snob when I moved here. I was from Glen Iris and Noble Park and Cranbourne was the asshole of the earth as far as I was concerned. But now I love it after almost three years. Its in the City Of Casey which includes Berwick and Narre Warren South, has excellent facilities, parks, shops and is close enough to the country that you don't feel like you are in the city.
We have great pools nearby for Summer, the beach is twenty minutes by car, the Freeway ten minutes away. A good train line and if you work at home, like me, the traffic is not that big a deal. If you work out of Cranbourne however the traffic can be a bit of a nightmare as the Developers have amde it attractive to families because of the cheaper housing but haven't thought about the roads with heavier volumes of traffic.
I tell the Nana to look at units in Cranbourne as there are loads of them, far more than in Narre Warren South which has few units or flats or retirment homes and even though it is only minutes away is a whole leot cheaper to but into. Then I ask her how long she has been living with the family and she answers twelve months. She must be nuts. She has a budget of $350,000 and I tell her that its OK to have 3 generations under the one roof as long as there is a Door. Not just a bedroom door either. A whole sound proofed unit.
She nods and agrees as the 13 year old boy tells her off for telling him off. Its reached that time of day where kids start misbehaving and I ponder on her situation when I wake up from my well stuffed Nanny nap in my quiet unit. I am far enough away fom my tribe to not be able to hear then once I shut my heavy front door and yet I have family solace if I want it.
A girlfriend calls and we catch up on gossip and then as my grand gesture of the day I turn the timer on for half an hour and set about turning the unit on its head for clean and organisation. I do exactly as I have advised others to do to clean quickly and efiiciently without getting bored or hating it. I am finished 9 minutes ahead of time after cleaning and tidying four rooms and sitting having a wll earned cuppa when the timer goes off.
The unit gleams, I have lit the candles and oil burners drenched in pure vanilla essence, fed the Husky left over treats and am then replying to emails. I have two girls that want love advice, one diet advice and another who wants to know how to get candle grease out of a tablecloth. Bless.
Then I write and write and write and glance around at my beautiful surroundings, my fantastic presents and decide I love my life. Yesterday I wrote Bah Christmas Humbug and tonight I am grateful for everything in my life, even the challenges as it neans I am fully alive and determine to continue that way. I hope Peters Mum lives to see another Christmas, I hope Nana gets a place of her own and I hope for me that I finally get over my full on ilnesses of the last six weeks.
Nighty Night,
Love Janette
Lauren loved Guns N Roses so today I put on Sweet Child Of Mine just after 10am and blasted the neighbourhood with it in celebration of a life well lived. I didn't play Patience as that would just make me cry. I was a bit apprehensive about today, Christmas Day as I usually hate it. But I felt out my body parts and mind and I felt alright. I didn't have the usual angst I feel at this time of Year.
The little darlings were up early and came in with their big water guns and I kissed them and hugged them and gave them their pressies, sensible stuff like tee shirts which they just flicked. But Acer I gave a big cow to and he loved it. He has an obsession with stuffed cows and the new one was twice the size of the old one and a whole lot cleaner. He decided he liked both. The old one looking very grubby and flat.
Cruz at 2 just wanted the wrapping mainly and to open everyone elses presents. Yvette has always done her boys proud on Christmas Day and the older boys said that to her and that was one of the best presents she received. The fact that they know their Mum has always put on a great Christmas for them.
I was totally blown away by my presents this year. Little darlings, a Bunnings voucher which I wanted. Yvette raised her eyebrows when I asked for one but I LOVE Bunnings and want to buy heaps with it. And a water filter big thing for filtered water from the other Mum, Peters Mum. Yvettes fiance. And things from Pam, Yvettes ex partner, Simons Mum. I am so lucky.
I only finished wrapping presents this morning as I have so many kids, partners, their kids, the list goes on. But I love giving presents and always want to see them unwrapped. Yvette I bought a marquisite watch, old and collectable and winds up, no battery. Just gorgeous and tiny crystal animals, also very old. The boys smashed all her others and she was well pleased.
Big boys had tees and Zach received a mini fridge for his room from Yvette, which he wanted. I went inside to the main house and there was a present explosion. You can imagine with 7 boys. Toys and wrap and cards everywhere. Yvette was exhausted and needed her roots done so I dragged her into my unit, protesting madly.
I finally got her into a chair and she wanted me to play Boney M, a christmas song. So I put on So Fresh, Christmas 2010 and we talked as I did her hair. I said she had a happy childhood, didn't she and she said yes. You and Dad were happy then and we had everything we ever wanted. She remembered when she was 6 and her Dad brought down her new baby doll and pram to Phillip Island where we were on Holiday.
She remembered Alena being born when she was 3 and a half and her Dad at South Eastern Hospital with a white gown on and holding the new baby and holding her up to Deb and Yvette, who had to stand at the doorway of the room, dressed in their P.J's and fluffy slippers and dressing gowns that Grandma had made them. She can recall so much of her childhood and she said it only really became unhappy when the girls were older.
I'm glad she thinks of it like that and that we protected them from us and our unhappiness with each other. That cheers me up as I have discovered with therapy that my own childhood wasnt as happy as I liked to think. A mentally ill Mother from the war shock and schizophrenia, losing a brother when I was just 5 and being sent away for 3 months as soon as he died. Not being able to talk about him, then moving all the time. Poor and keeping secrets.
I realise now my girls never lived the life that I did as a child and that means I have done my job as a parent. That my husband and I worked hard for our kids and loved them very much. He couldnt be as affectionate as I was but he certainly was a good provider. He tried his best and the ugliness came later. And that I was as much to blame as him as I tolerated his violence. I never let on to the girls what was really going on but I am sure they absorbed some of it.
Anyway, it matters little now. They are grown women and are certainly all successful in their lives. Bright, strong. They do alright and now its time for Mama.
I waxed off her tough eyebrows as well and rubbed cream into her skin, feeling the strong bones in her face. We werent disturbed by the boys, once. It was girly time with a vengeance. The hair turned out well and she rushed inside to put on her new dress and shoes, just like every Christmas Day I can remember.
When the girls were little we always bought them new clothes for Christmas Day and then took off to the fram at Soldiers Road Loch to my In Laws dairy farm. Where Gwen, my Mother IN Law would cook the most amazing Christmas dinner, ever. A simple farmers wife, everything was fresh and home grown and divine. We had fresh chicken and goose and sometimes turkey and freah veggies from the garden and crean and milk from the dairy.
The pud always had five cents in, the christmas cake frosted in marshmallow, the mince pies from Nana Wooley, Gwens Mum, made to an English recipe with some sort of alcohol in and a buttery melt in your mouth pastry that had egg and "best butter" in. They were served at afternoon tea and dinner was ham and salad with bread and butter pickles with mustard seeds and the cucumbers from the garden. By the time we headed for home we were stuffed full and the girls would fall asleep in the back of the GT.
Often we stayed for the hay baling, all of us helping. The hot days and the sun burning our skin and turning us brown and some of the family almost black in their elbow creases. My Father in Law always in a pork pie hat sweat running down his fair skin and the Sunday wrestling every Sunday which he watched and mimicked all the movements and believed it was real. Ah, Mario and Jack.
So Aussie.
The combustion stove had to be left on for the hot water and the kitchen was like an inferno on some days. When Deb was a baby we put wet sheets over her bassinet and turned the fan on. I was 18 then. We were so in love and adored our baby. She was a good baby, placid and sweet and I had another 12 months later. Yvette and ended up in Korumburra Hospital with complications from the birth over the holidays. So lonely and bored as all hands were on deck for the hay and the milking and the minding of the two babies.
When Yvette was gone I jumped in the shower and dressed for the Christmas Day at Yvette's fiance's sisters place. I dithered about what to wear and decided on a simple black sheath and cardi and loved the way the dress just flowed over hip and bust. A size 12 and two years ago I would have easily been a size 18 to 20. A statement necklace and heels and I was done. I had new shoes but went for retro heels that I can stand to wear all day.
As I drove to the house with my basket full of pressies I reflected that I no longer felt the emptiness I have always felt on Christmas Day. It was gone. The Gunners had helped me rid myself of the angst and anxiety. I realise she is never coming back. But that she would want me to be happy and I checked my mood and I did feel happy. Looking forward to a Christmas Dinner with family and friends and noise and chaos. Kisses and hugs and more presents, food and treats and I realised I am truly blessed. My life is full.
Peters Mum greeted me at the door. She is fighting the battle of her life with cancer and is so tiny she looks like a child.
"You look wonderful", she said. She hasnt seen me since I lost all the weight and I felt almost guilty as I looked into her morphine eyes with all colour and "pinned" pupils and felt guilty that I was so healthy and she was not But not sad as she wasn't sad. And outside there were three packs of cigarettes, so large you could have put a strap on them and called them a handbag.
The new house was huge and loads of kids everywhere, he 80 year old Nana, who keeps threatening to move out and never does. Peters Father died two years ago, he was 55 and ropped ead of a heart attack at work. It was such a shock s he was a robust man. Peters Mother has never recovered really, they were madly in love. And Peter thinks that his Dad is calling for his Mother and wants her with him.
I cant believe how candid she is about her cancer. She didnt have a pap smear for 11 years, her fault she siad and ended up with cervical cancer, thats gone now although the cervix is still there which surprised me.
inoperable, she said but they got the cancer, now she has a tumour near a vertebrae and in her lymph nodes. She starts radiation next week and has had the chemo and she says its "shitful". Knocks her around, she still has a good head of hair and I wonder if that was me would I go on fighting ? But I don
Her daughter has put on the most gut groaning spread ever. There is turkey, hot ham glazed, chicken made by the Uncle who is a chef . Cauliflower cheese and all the vegetables, two different gravies, stuffing, cracling on the pork and we pile it all on paper plates. I sit next to the 80 year old Nana and we talk for ages. She lives with the family and has her own room. I am shocked as she suddenly cracks it with the hyperactive 13 year old boy of the family.
I lean toward her and say quietly, its just one day and all kids are noisy and mine havent even arrived yet. I ask her when she is moving as she has said she wants to move to a retirement home to be with people her age. She says she has been looking for months as she wants to stay in the area. Narre Warren South. But its all too expensive. I tell her of a friend that was able to buy in Box Hill
She says that would also be good as her son ( who sits next to her ) lives in Southbank
, he is the Chef.
He doesnt seem very friendly and seems to have a certian attitude and is about 47, never married or had kids. I watch him, and guess correctly he must own the new mini parked outside. The Nana talks about him as if he is not there and you can see she adores him and I wonder why she is paying him more attention than her daughter who is so ill. He must have somehing wrong with him as he seems "special". He mentions he is taking Nana to Les Miserable tomorrow. I mention Hugh Jackman ... is supposed to be fabulous as Jean Val Jean and she turns to the son and says thats his name, the one we couldnt think ofs name.
I metion that I want to take Kyan, 8 to see the Life Of PI and someone else is off to see The Hobbit. Nana doesn't fancy the Hobbit and she hates all those movies written by the lady that wrote on the train and was very poor.
J.K Rowling and Harry Potter I ask ? and she says yes them, I hate them.
I don't know how much I fancy seeing people burst into song every 5 minutes in what is supposed to be a drama but I keep my mouth firmly shut. The desserts are about to be served and I said I was not going to stay long.
I have starved myself in anticipation of this dinner for two days and fall on all the food like a ravenous beast. There is trifle and Pavlova and green jelly in cups with a chocolate frog in each. There is chocolates and home made Chrsitmas cookies decorated with green and red icing and cachous balls. Afterwards I look down at my dress and it is covered in food. Sparks must have flying off my spoon. I am such a grub. I show Yvette and tell her I am a messy pig and she says its not me, other people fling it at me which is an in joke and everyone laughs.
I even grab more treats on my way out the door for after.
And then it is all done and I can finally go home. Which I do, drink some Eno's and ring my Brither who has left a message and a male friend, same. I catch up on their days and then strip my food stained dress off, step out of my shoes and watch my secret addiction show, The Bold and The Beautiful and fall asleep with my fat belly full and perfectly happy to be on my own for a few hours before the tribe gets back.
I could not live under the same roof as my kids and grandkids the way Nana does. I would have to have killed them within days. I like my solitude too much. I told her to look in Cranbourne as well, the old part of Cranbourne nearer to the shops. We are in the grand part, Cranbourne East, opposite The Hunt Club, although some bad people have renamed the Hunt Club with a word that rhymes with Hunt and is not very nice.
Cranbourne has always had a certain reputation and I was a total snob when I moved here. I was from Glen Iris and Noble Park and Cranbourne was the asshole of the earth as far as I was concerned. But now I love it after almost three years. Its in the City Of Casey which includes Berwick and Narre Warren South, has excellent facilities, parks, shops and is close enough to the country that you don't feel like you are in the city.
We have great pools nearby for Summer, the beach is twenty minutes by car, the Freeway ten minutes away. A good train line and if you work at home, like me, the traffic is not that big a deal. If you work out of Cranbourne however the traffic can be a bit of a nightmare as the Developers have amde it attractive to families because of the cheaper housing but haven't thought about the roads with heavier volumes of traffic.
I tell the Nana to look at units in Cranbourne as there are loads of them, far more than in Narre Warren South which has few units or flats or retirment homes and even though it is only minutes away is a whole leot cheaper to but into. Then I ask her how long she has been living with the family and she answers twelve months. She must be nuts. She has a budget of $350,000 and I tell her that its OK to have 3 generations under the one roof as long as there is a Door. Not just a bedroom door either. A whole sound proofed unit.
She nods and agrees as the 13 year old boy tells her off for telling him off. Its reached that time of day where kids start misbehaving and I ponder on her situation when I wake up from my well stuffed Nanny nap in my quiet unit. I am far enough away fom my tribe to not be able to hear then once I shut my heavy front door and yet I have family solace if I want it.
A girlfriend calls and we catch up on gossip and then as my grand gesture of the day I turn the timer on for half an hour and set about turning the unit on its head for clean and organisation. I do exactly as I have advised others to do to clean quickly and efiiciently without getting bored or hating it. I am finished 9 minutes ahead of time after cleaning and tidying four rooms and sitting having a wll earned cuppa when the timer goes off.
The unit gleams, I have lit the candles and oil burners drenched in pure vanilla essence, fed the Husky left over treats and am then replying to emails. I have two girls that want love advice, one diet advice and another who wants to know how to get candle grease out of a tablecloth. Bless.
Then I write and write and write and glance around at my beautiful surroundings, my fantastic presents and decide I love my life. Yesterday I wrote Bah Christmas Humbug and tonight I am grateful for everything in my life, even the challenges as it neans I am fully alive and determine to continue that way. I hope Peters Mum lives to see another Christmas, I hope Nana gets a place of her own and I hope for me that I finally get over my full on ilnesses of the last six weeks.
Nighty Night,
Love Janette
