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  • I have found, and continue to find, that parenting reveals all your darknesses. The first year was beyond hard for me as I was mourning for my own lost babyhood. I am finding husband switches into authoritarian mode a lot now just as small boy enters into the same age as husband was when his mother (sadly, I kid you not) whipped him regularly.
    I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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    • I have no frame of reference, as I was never mistreated by my parents, but if hubby can try to lighten up with small boy.....I can't put into words how quickly these years will fly by. Plenty of time to dish out authority when you are dealing with a saucy adolescent....just my 2 cents. I have wished many times that I had been more relaxed with my kids when they were young.

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      • I don't know why I didn't start reading your journal sooner . Jealous of your nip rings... erm that sounds odd. Your boobs look great and look great with the rings too . I have thought about getting some, but the healing time just does not appeal to me. I'll stick with my facial & ear piercings.
        Depression Lies

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        • Had to come and find the picture after the kiwi conversation! BG, you're lovely . Those rings look awesome.

          About kids - I have 4, and my 'baby' will be 21 this year. Inside, I still feel like the same person I was at his age, and it's a mind-bender to realise that all that time has gone by. We did a lot of laughing and loving as the kids grew up, but I still feel like I should have done more and would love the chance to go back and savour it more. It feels like yesterday that I held his tiny body, and now he's this enormous man!
          Started Feb 18 2011

          Tried basic primal and almost everything else in pursuit of IBS control, mood stability, and weight loss.

          Journalling here

          Comment


          • ^^^I feel exactly the same way about my eldest son. He is 24 now, the same age I was when he was born. I can't look at a baby picture of him without tearing up. Where did the time go?
            As far as "feeling the same" I think that is such a universal emotion. I remember my Mom telling me that she felt exactly the same as she did when she was 18 but she saw this old lady looking back at her in the mirror. Yes, yes me too!

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            • Weird, eh. I think it's having kids that gives a very real external measure of time passing. I don't really look at myself in the mirror all that often so I don't notice the changes too much - and then I see the kids!! Oh yeah, I'm not actually 19 any more . . .
              Started Feb 18 2011

              Tried basic primal and almost everything else in pursuit of IBS control, mood stability, and weight loss.

              Journalling here

              Comment


              • Originally posted by badgergirl View Post
                I have found, and continue to find, that parenting reveals all your darknesses. The first year was beyond hard for me as I was mourning for my own lost babyhood. I am finding husband switches into authoritarian mode a lot now just as small boy enters into the same age as husband was when his mother (sadly, I kid you not) whipped him regularly.
                For me parenting has revealed my fears. Hubby and I entered into parenting somewhat late, I was 38, we only planned on having one so we both knew we wanted to be as present as possible in his childhood. When our son was 7 we had a major shift in our parenting as our son was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, I think it made us even more present in our parenting. Son is now a strapping 15 yr old, who actually still enjoys his parent's company.

                With that said I was not raised by careful middle class parents who attended to my every need so I often feel out of my depths in navigating these treacherous parenting waters.

                When it comes to parenting this Rilke poem best captures my feelings:

                If I had grown up in a land where days
                were free from care and hours were delicate,
                then I would have contrived a splendid fête
                for you, and not have held you in the way
                I sometimes do, tightly in fearful hands.

                There I would have been bold to squander you,
                you boundless Presence.
                Like a ball
                I would have flung you among all tossing joys,
                so one might catch you,
                and if you seemed to fall,
                with both hands high would spring
                toward you,
                you thing of things.

                I would have let you flash
                forth like a sword.
                From the most golden of all rings
                I would have taken your fire and
                reset it in a mounting that would hold it
                over the whitest hand.

                I would have painted you: not on the wall,
                but upon very heaven from verge to verge,
                and would have shaped you, as a giant would:
                you, as a mountain, as a blazing fire,
                as the simoon, grown from the desert’s surge –
                or
                it may be, in very truth, I found
                you once . . .
                ………………..My friends are far away,
                I scarcely hear their laughter any more;
                and you: ah, you have fallen from the nest,
                a fledgling, yellow-clawed with big eyes:
                I grieve for you.
                (In my broad hand your tininess is lost).
                And from the well I lift a drop
                upon my finger, intent if you’ll stretch
                a thirsty throat for it, and then I hear
                your heart and mine beating,
                and both with fear.

                – Rainer Maria Rilke, Poems from the Book of Hours
                Last edited by Urban Forager; 02-19-2014, 01:11 PM.
                Life is death. We all take turns. It's sacred to eat during our turn and be eaten when our turn is over. RichMahogany.

                Comment


                • Originally posted by Jac View Post
                  Weird, eh. I think it's having kids that gives a very real external measure of time passing. I don't really look at myself in the mirror all that often so I don't notice the changes too much - and then I see the kids!! Oh yeah, I'm not actually 19 any more . . .
                  I agree 100% and I also find time seems to pass more quickly the older I get.

                  Comment


                  • Originally posted by Urban Forager View Post
                    For me parenting has revealed my fears. Hubby and I entered into parenting somewhat late, I was 38, we only planned on having one so we both knew we wanted to be as present as possible in his childhood. When our son was 7 we had a major shift in our parenting as our son was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis, I think it made us even more present in our parenting. Son is now a strapping 15 yr old, who actually still enjoys his parent's company.

                    With that said I was not raised by careful middle class parents who attended to my every need so I often feel out of my depths in navigating these treacherous parenting waters.

                    When it comes to parenting this Rilke poem best captures my feelings:

                    f I had grown up in a land where days
                    were free from care and hours were delicate,
                    then I would have contrived a splendid fête
                    for you, and not have held you in the way
                    I sometimes do, tightly in fearful hands.

                    There I would have been bold to squander you,
                    you boundless Presence.
                    Like a ball
                    I would have flung you among all tossing joys,
                    so one might catch you,
                    and if you seemed to fall,
                    with both hands high would spring
                    toward you,
                    you thing of things.

                    I would have let you flash
                    forth like a sword.
                    From the most golden of all rings
                    I would have taken your fire and
                    reset it in a mounting that would hold it
                    over the whitest hand.

                    I would have painted you: not on the wall,
                    but upon very heaven from verge to verge,
                    and would have shaped you, as a giant would:
                    you, as a mountain, as a blazing fire,
                    as the simoon, grown from the desert’s surge –
                    or
                    it may be, in very truth, I found
                    you once . . .
                    ………………..My friends are far away,
                    I scarcely hear their laughter any more;
                    and you: ah, you have fallen from the nest,
                    a fledgling, yellow-clawed with big eyes:
                    I grieve for you.
                    (In my broad hand your tininess is lost).
                    And from the well I lift a drop
                    upon my finger, intent if you’ll stretch
                    a thirsty throat for it, and then I hear
                    your heart and mine beating,
                    and both with fear.

                    – Rainer Maria Rilke, Poems from the Book of Hours
                    Ok, sitting at my desk bawling now....Beautiful poem that, thank you. I also love this one.

                    "To My Grown-Up Son"

                    by Alice E. Chase

                    My hands were busy through the day,
                    I didn't have much time to play
                    The little games you asked me to,
                    I didn't have much time for you.

                    I'd wash your clothes; I'd sew and cook,
                    But when you'd bring your picture book
                    And ask me, please, to share your fun,
                    I'd say, "A little later, son."

                    I'd tuck you in all safe at night,
                    And hear your prayers, turn out the light,
                    Then tiptoe softly to the door,
                    I wish I'd stayed a minute more.

                    For life is short, and years rush past,
                    A little boy grows up so fast,
                    No longer is he at your side,
                    His precious secrets to confide.

                    The picture books are put away,
                    There are no children's games to play,
                    No goodnight kiss, no prayers to hear,
                    That all belongs to yesteryear.

                    My hands once busy, now lie still,
                    The days are long and hard to fill,
                    I wish I might go back and do,
                    The little things you asked me to.
                    Last edited by Clarkie; 02-19-2014, 01:16 PM.

                    Comment


                    • Ladies, this is the right journal to bring your poems to - thank you. Kisses for all of you. Parenting. Oy vey, it's a hard road. Full of hopes and fears, expectations and disappointments - and those are just the emotions that are self-directed. I always feel sorry for the poor kids, honestly, who did not ask to be thrown into this stew of *feelings*.

                      I'm chewing over thoughts on gender, having decided to hold my bile rather than spit it in Canio's journal (who does not deserve or ask for it).

                      But, first, I have to run spell on my 80-page mag. This takes hours as, try as I might, I can never teach InDesign to recognise a word followed by a reference number, Australian English, people's names or any of the medical terminology.
                      Last edited by badgergirl; 02-19-2014, 02:22 PM.
                      I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                      Comment


                      • Very nice Clarkie. Hubby used to remind me when I'd complain about the mess/clutter that a time will come everything will stay in it's place and the house will be quiet except for the ticking of the clock. I try to remember that.
                        Life is death. We all take turns. It's sacred to eat during our turn and be eaten when our turn is over. RichMahogany.

                        Comment


                        • Originally posted by badgergirl View Post

                          I'm chewing over thoughts on gender, having decided to hold my bile rather than spit it in Canio's journal (who does not deserve or ask for it).
                          I know what you mean I've decided to hold my tongue, it would take too much effort to attempt to educate them. Also I'm not very good at debating.
                          Life is death. We all take turns. It's sacred to eat during our turn and be eaten when our turn is over. RichMahogany.

                          Comment


                          • There's no such thing as a 'real man' - Telegraph

                            It seems to me that we become bogged down in discussions of surface - how we present - and forget the real meat of the issue: the harm we are doing to ourselves and our children with our random, but binding, definitions of gender.

                            I think of gender presentation as cosplay, honestly. Yes, sometimes I like dressing all 1950s, sometimes I want to wear a maxidress or a trouser suit, sometimes I like to paint my nails, sometimes I like to shave: my legs, my head (though I never quite have because gender norms), but not under my arms (though I do because gender norms). Sometimes I want to look butch, sometimes I want to look femme. I like cooking and sewing (femme). I like digging in the garden (butch?). Transgression is attractive. The most masculine - in terms of rawr sex - thing I have seen recently was a man singing on stage in a leather dress and work boots, but all of this is COSTUME.

                            These are the things I care about - is it safe for any person to walk down the street wearing the costume of their choice? I care about equal pay. I care about children growing up in poverty because our politicians worry about rewarding the undeserving poor - WTF? Do we live in Dickensian times? I think that austerity falls disproportionately on women and children. I think that, over a lifetime, women are penalised for having children and doing the work of raising the next generation - the people who will run the place when we are old and infirm. I care about access to healthcare, including mental health services. I care about discrimination, particularly against LGBQT people. I care about equal access to power and how women who do put themselves into the public domain are belittled in ways that men are not. I care about intersectionality, but do not claim to have the answers - I cannot speak on racism and I recognise that I am given privilege because I am white and educated. I care about violence and the fear of violence - verbal, physical, sexual - in our society and how it is systematically used to keep people down.

                            I could not give a toss how two (or more) people divide up how they run their household. I care about marriage rights for all - including recognition for poly partners, if that is what they want. I have no opinion on how anyone should dress or what they do with their own body. I will, however, campaign against FGM... and am against male circumcision and the piercing of babies' ears too - your body, your informed choice, anything else is mutilation. Where the grey areas are - individuals feeling pressured to conform to societal norms up to and including surgery - well, on an individual level I support them to make that decision for themselves, but I still feel sad that societal norms exert such pressure.

                            When people protest so loudly that other people should help them to confirm their gender identity by presenting as a reflection of it - your femininity is what I need to exert my masculinity and visa versa. Well, at that point I feel like saying, truly, is your grasp on your own identity that tenuous that you need to have constant external validation? Then I want to pick up a f*cking maul and hulk smash the patriarchy.
                            I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

                            Comment


                            • Originally posted by Urban Forager View Post
                              I know what you mean I've decided to hold my tongue, it would take too much effort to attempt to educate them. Also I'm not very good at debating.
                              Well, damn. Now I have to wallow in my ignorance - my bile and spitless ignorance

                              Last edited by canio6; 02-19-2014, 05:55 PM.

                              Comment


                              • Originally posted by canio6 View Post
                                Well, damn. Now I have to wallow in my ignorance - my bile and spitless ignorance

                                We cross posted. My bile spewed below.
                                I like badgers, books and booze, more or less in that order.

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