Thursday, September 28, 2006

On Your Marks...

The elliptical machine that's set up in my living room has almost become the focus of my day. I get up in the morning, walk past it to the PC, back past it to the kitchen to switch on the kettle. Anytime I come into the lounge, it's there....watching me...practically breathing down my neck. It taunts me to distraction.

Being the soft touch I am, I give in. I've since discovered that I can get through 10 minutes without feeling the need to call the paramedics. But only if I'm reading a book/magazine and with the music blaring in my earphones. When I first started using it, I was obsessed with the timer...watching it go down...glaring at it to hurry, hurry, HURRY! If only it would go at the same pace as my heart rate...I'd have been finished and off there with plenty of time to cream a bun and stuff it in me gob.

Not that I would of is essential to good living and blah blah fricking blah...honest, I wouldn't...just sayin'.

One of the unfortunate things about this machine? It's in front of the lounge mirror. This can be rather deflating. When I think I'm doing this incredible workout, and I'm racing for the finish line...the crowd's going wild..."Go Lisa! Go Lisa!" etcetera's a very touchy feely time for me...grown men are crying an' all that.

I look over at the mirror to witness this momentus event of olympic level porportions...and bugger me if I aint moving in slow motion!
*ssssssssssssss* <--- that's the air hissing out of my ego.

I managed to do 14 minutes 7 seconds this evening. And don't give me any shit about that....yes those 7 seconds do count for a lot ok? 7 seconds could be the length of a half decent could be the warm rush of a lingering look from a loved sure as hell makes a difference if you're waiting for pain medication to kick in. So yeah, it matters for sure.

Tonight I was reading a health magazine...well, it's more blurr, focus, blurr, focus really. Did you know that pinenuts could help you lose weight? Apparently eating them sends some hoodoo voodoo signals from the brain to the stomach and makes it think it's full. Very sneaky. Pinenuts are now going to become the staple food in this house.

Anyway, enough of time I'll tell you what I fantasise about while I'm laying on the floor doing ab work. This is fun huh? lol
Wednesday, September 27, 2006

Car Maintenance Required - Apply Within

The other day, one of the nurses husbands rang and asked if he could leave a message for his wife. He wanted to know if he should pick her up a new window wiper blade and run over and put it on her car. Earlier in the day it was sunny...that afternoon it started to rain. How thoughtful and caring was that of him to worry that she needed a new blade to replace the 'floppy' one?

This is what I miss. Only a very small part of having someone special in your life, and someone that you can do those little extra bits and pieces for that make all the difference to their day too.

Are you lot getting tired of this stuff yet? Because I have plenty more where it's coming from I'm afraid. I'm also quite likely to be repeating and contradicting myself from post to post. I've been doing a fair amount of thinking (imagine that?) and reflecting about the ins and outs of coupledom versus single life.

Maybe this has something to do with being over 40? Isn't that around the age we're supposed to start trying to find ourselves? I'm too big to get lost these days, but I find myself pondering on a regular basis just how green the grass on the other side actually is.

There is definitely a feeling of security being part of a couple. As time goes on you start reading each other so well there is not always a need for words. The tiny details....the expression on their they have their coffee or tea etc. You both go about your daily lives in a routine knowing the other person is going to be there for you. A safety net I guess in some ways. I daresay some would think they're in a rut and want to break out of the hum drum of daily routined life.

Then there's that warm rush of new discovery. What lays behind the 'dating' facade? Let's face it, most of us are on our best behaviour with a new date right? Lots of questions...what that other person is all about, their likes/dislikes. Of course you have the added bonus of being able to do what you please, when and if you please. No need to inform another person of what you're up to. You don't have to clear it with the mothership, and like the proverbial Nike ad, you just do it! Aaah the freedom.

One side is akin to an old comfy pair of slippers. They're there each night you come home from a busy day...comfortable, faithful...familiar and moulded to your shape. You put your feet into them with almost the same feeling as sinking into a hot bath. They live at the foot of your bed, ready to be worn at a moment's notice.

The other side can be like a new set of heels. You jam your feet into them, wondering if you'll keep upright and how many aches and pains you'll have to put up with on the journey. They can be thrown to the back of the wardrobe until you decide to try them out again.

Personally I prefer the comfy slippers, but that could be because my feet are sore and bent out of shape from wearing heels for too long. And besides, I think at least one of my wiper blades could need replacing, or it will by the time I'm done.
Monday, September 25, 2006

Is It Enough?

We walked alone through an orchard in full bloom....approximately two thousand trees resplendent in apple blossoms. Only the sound of birds and the gentle neigh of horses to be heard as the sun went down.

Crisp fresh air...vibrant lush many cascades of pink and white flowers...laughter at the comical pukekoes chasing each other through the trees. I looked around saying quietly to myself "How could anyone not want this?"

We sat on the floor cross-legged in front of the hearth and watched the flames take hold while drinking bourbon. We lay in the spa in the dark outside feeling the cool mist of the rain against our faces...bodies immersed in the heat of bubbling waters.

And afterwards tangled amongst the covers that night, my brain feeling alive with so many thoughts racing around, these lyrics kept tripping across my mind...

If I lay here...
If I just lay here...
would you lie with me...
and just forget the world?
Friday, September 22, 2006

The Meek Shall Inherit the Earth

So now that we've ascertained there's no McDreamy in the purest of forms...but there are Mr-Right-For-Me's (or You's, that's native speak)....we have to sit back and wait?

I've often heard the saying that you shouldn't sit around waiting for things to come to you....if you want something you must go out there and make it happen. We can't expect to sit back and wait for everything to be served up on silver platters now can we? We need to rise up, take charge and shout at the world as a united front to "BRING.IT.ON.BAY.BBY!"

After it's told us to sod off....we'll sit back on our haunches for a time and plot how to injure it in as many ways possible.

Now, after all my harping on about losing weight and not losing weight and disappearing necks and tits not fitting into bras properly etc....I've given up on the idea of McDreamy just turning up...I'm going with the gonna-make-things-happen-stance instead.

Not on the man front you understand, they'll just have to play on their own for a while (as will I)...but on the Yay-I-Do-Have-A-Neck-Afterall! front.

Yesterday as I was poking fun at my mate Dan on voice chat, a truck pulled up outside my house..."It's here, it's here!"...I cried, clapping my hands together gleefully. "Go mow your lawn slacker, I gotta go" chat over. By the way, my friend Dan? he's gotta be the most Maori sounding white boy I ever did hear...just sayin'. What's more, he's worth a listen/read...he's a good value kinda guy (pimp pimp).

I've hired an elliptical/cross trainer....there's a reason I've hired it instead of buying it...we run in 'fits and starts' around here. There seemed no point in me paying out over a thousand buckeroos for something that could end up gathering dust...or at the most become airing apparatus for damp clothing. (I realise this sounds like I've failed before I've even started, but I'm trying to be as practical and realistic as possible lol)

As it made it's way up my outside steps, it came with the added bonus of two burly men....I gave them no opportunity to knock at my door because I had already flung the slider open, excitedly beckoning them in. Take that Mr Fate....I got me a couple of adult men in my house, so there.

Unfortunately they went back out the door....with me yelling "Call me!" at their arses as they sprinted down the steps again. Sheesh, could I have made it any more obvious?? What's wrong with some menfolk these days?? (Ok, I didn't yell that, and I know YOU know I didn't...but I did tell them to expect me to ring them in the morning and ask them to pick it up because I'd be so sore I'll be unable to move.)

Anyway, last night Cameron gets on it...he's pushing buttons, and sorting out which programme he wants...sets the timer and away he went. I come back into the lounge...I hear the harsh ragged breathing....see the sweat beaded on his forehead..."How much longer you got to go hun?"...."6 minutes"...."Cool, how many you done already?"....*glaring at me cos he can't talk*....."puff-4-pant-minutes-cough".

4.minutes. My kid, who easily does 30 plus minutes straight of that Dance Dance Revolution get-ya-heart-pumping-cardiovascular-game, and is at present placed 4th in our capital city for doing so...had trouble coping with this new machine after 4.minutes.

*shakes head*
"Um...want me to stand here and spray misty water on your face?"
*shakes head*
" about if I fan you?"

I had a go myself this morning...warmed up my muscles pretending I was all flexible and shit, and stretched in as many directions as possible. I climbed on it...and just about had an aneurysm making it to 5 minutes.

Hey, they might only be 5 stinky minutes, but I'm still upright and I'll have a go at another 5 minutes steps an' all that. Course, there's no guarantee with anything is there? No guarantee Mr-Right-For-Me is going to rock up to my door, and no guarantee I'm going to accomplish the mission of hunting down the hidden neck treasure. But..err...well..

...Aw fuck it....if I want a guarantee, I'll just go and buy a bloody toaster.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Subconciously Waiting for a 3rd Tit

Do people who see and think that you've been single for several years come to the conclusion that you must be either too fussy/picky or that noone else wants're left on the shelf etc?

I'm an independent woman. I have a strong that needs a like-minded personality to deal with it. I like the fact that I'm able to come and go as I please and do whatever I please without having to constantly take someone else into consideration by letting them know of my whereabouts. Of course this doesn't stand up when it comes to my's important they know where I am and vice rules.

But how would I feel about a significant other? I obviously didn't do too well with the last one, so what's to say that anyone else would be any different? Would I resent that I had to start taking someone else into consideration? I don't think so...I expect the courtesy would come naturally. It used to. Maybe I can't be bothered anymore? At this stage in my life I wonder if I should make a conscious effort to give up on the whole idea of sharing my future life with someone and just continue on as I am. Or do I take what's offered and think "Yeah ok, might work, he'll do." ?

I'm sure most of you will agree, that last statement is crap. "..might work" ?...."he'll do."?? What the fuck kinda attitude is that? Do I settle for something less than what I'd like in a man? (There's always going to be something about that other person you're not so ecstatic either accept it or you don't.) Or do I conjure up an unrealistic picture in my mind of the perfect man that I would likely never meet because my thoughts of him are so blown out of proportion, no man could ever stand up to the demands that constitute my McDreamy?

And what about sex? One night stands...been there, done that...don't want to go there again...I'm 41, I'm past dealing with the hassles of trying to find where my panties are at while making a hasty escape at 5am. So let's wipe that idea completely out of my aint gonna happen again.

BOB? Yeah, Bob's good....but Bob's not that good. Bob has no hands or mouth, in fact he has no body to speak of...he's just a simulated body part. And although he can give me multiple warm fuzzies, it's certainly not in the same overall glowing capacity as a real live man. Where do I get the sexual satisfaction of pleasuring my partner if I can't whisper dirty nothings in his ear or the like? (Be proud of me for not going into more detail, my font was itching to go there lol).

So where does that leave me? Should I start thinking about putting myself more out there in public? You know, joining the throngs of singles out for dinner or singles dances etc? I guess that's a start, but do I really feel the need to subject myself to that right now? No I don't. But maybe when I get older and the children leave home and I'm sitting here on my sorry arse I'll start reviewing the possibilities?

And then maybe I won't have to, because maybe my McDreamy will turn up at the door one sunny afternoon offering nothing but friendship...yet have the sense of humour and x-factor to spark it into something more.

I suspect the same day that happens I'll grow a third breast in the centre of my forehead.
Sunday, September 17, 2006

Who Knew?!

A little girl walks into the lounge one Sunday morning while her Dad is reading the paper.

"Where does poo come from?" she asks.

The father, feeling a little perturbed that his 5-year-old daughter is already asking difficult questions, thinks for a moment and says:

"Well, you know we just ate breakfast?"

"Yes," answers the girl.

"Well the food goes into our tummies and our bodies take out all the good stuff and then whatever is left over comes out of our bums when we go to the toilet - and that is poo."

The little girl looks shocked and stares at him in stunned silence for a few seconds and asks:

"And Tigger?"
Saturday, September 16, 2006

Pregnant Pauses and Positive Results

Patient: "I need to see a nurse."

Me: "Is it urgent? They've got their hands full right now, but if you don't mind waiting I'm sure I can get someone to see you."

Patient: "I need to have a pregnancy test."

This set off alarm bells in my head...and only because of who was asking. The week before I had this patient's mother on the phone. Her 35 year old daughter is intellectually handicapped and had recently found the man of her dreams. By mixing around in the same crowd, they'd discovered each other, love blossomed and the two of them had decided to get married...after three weeks together.

But first they were going to live together. No problem there, we've all been there (well not all of us, but certainly many of us right?). Mum's dilemma, was that her daughter refused to take any form of birth control because they were not going to have sex. She'd stated quite adamantly that sex was off the cards until after the wedding...yet they would be sleeping in the same bed.

Mum was concerned that temptation and hormones would run rampant and thus her daughter and the man would get beyond the point of no return. I can see her reasoning behind that. Close physical proximity of a warm body, loving each other, wanting to touch each other, a kiss here, a touch there...and Bob's your uncle...well...he may not be...but you know what I mean.

After Mum's phone call, I relayed her fears to the doctor. Doc tried to encourage daughter toward birth control of some kind....patient dug in her heels, refused to listen and insisted it was unnecessary...nothing was going to happen.

And here she was the following week asking for a pregnancy test. I went off to track down the doc with this new information. Her eyebrows shot up..."What?!" She groaned and went off to find a nurse, who gave a less printable reaction.

Meanwhile, back at the front desk, the patient was having a conversation with the female friend she'd brought in with her. These two were leaning against my counter, talking loud enough for the full waiting room to hear.

Friend: "'ve just been fooling around a little, right?"

*the noise level in the waiting room starts to dissipate*

Patient: "Well...yes...but we haven't had sex."

Friend: "But did his penis get anywhere near your pussy?"

*sound of papers/magazines being rustled...noone looking but you just KNOW everyone is listening*

Patient: *sheepish* " REALLY."

Me: *quietly* "Perhaps now would be a good time to make an appointment with the doctor to discuss your options for birth control?"

Patient: "NO!'s ok...I just need to have a pregnancy test."

Friend: *getting impatient* "What exactly does not REALLY mean??"

*total silence...everyone waiting...for the wrong reason*

Patient: "Just some touching and kissing, WE.DIDN'T.HAVE.SEX!"

Me: *trying to encourage them into a side room* "Ladies, maybe you would like to discuss this privately through here?"

Friend: *ignoring me and getting exasperated* "BUT.DID.HE.CUM.INSIDE.YOU??!"

*Sudden warp-like flash of white from right hand corner of my eye*

Nurse: "Good Morning Ladies! Come with me and we'll sort out how I can help you shall we?"

As they ambled off with the nurse, those left behind started breathing again.

(NB: While I respect anyone's right to make their own decisions when it comes to when or if they're going to start a family...with this patient in particular and her other condition, it would have been dangerous for her health to become pregnant. Two weeks later the patient was back in requesting another pregnancy test. Both results were negative. Thankfully they got through to her and she's now covered by depo provera.)
Thursday, September 14, 2006

Don't Be Scared...It's Only Me!

Monday, September 11, 2006

Michael Paul Ragusa


Michael (Mikey) Ragusa had been a plumber for several years before he changed vocation and became part of the New York Fire Department. He'd been a firefighter for a little over 12 months before the terrorist attack on September 11, 2001. Michael was a well-loved man by many. I have read so much about how he would help anyone that needed his plumbing skills over the years...he would've given the shirt from his own back if it helped someone else. He was always there for those that needed him.

"He did things to make others happy," said his fiancée. "That's how he made himself happy."

That fateful day as his mother watched the towers in flames on tv, she felt secure in the knowledge that none of her children worked there. No other family member had been part of the fire service before, and as such it can be said she was not thinking like a 'fire mum'. I don't think we can ever ever be prepared for the emotional turmoil that rushes through us, when we realise our children are in such grave danger.

His father later said he had tried to retrace Michael's steps from the time he raced from his Brooklyn firehouse, up to the time he arrived at the WTC. He had each minute in time laid out in his mind....he felt that Michael would have been on the 30th or 40th floor of the tower when it collapsed. How he felt knowing that 70 floors of concrete and steel had come down on his son I can't even begin to imagine.

His sister said he was single-minded. "If we all lined up outside the World Trade Center and yelled, `Mikey stop!,' he still would have ran in."

When word of his disappearance spread through his neighborhood in Brooklyn, dozens of people camped out on his parents' lawn, on their patio furniture and on their living room floor. Strangers who did not know his name came by with fruit baskets to tell of how he helped fix their fences or change their tyres.


The hand of friendship that he offered to others, and his overall love of being 'there' for anyone was made even more apparent on the day he was finally laid to rest....almost two years after the tragedy. His parents had waited for something, anything, to come out of the rubble that was identified as their son. A bone fragment, body tissue, something with DNA possibilities. How could they bury an empty coffin? They HAD to have something.

By coincidence and a passing remark made by a trusted spokesperson of the medical examiner's office, the Ragusas' were made aware that some firefighters had given blood to become potential bone marrow donors.

Michael had volunteered to be a marrow donor.

"On the way home, we were laughing and crying. We were hysterical. We were happy, if you can call it happy," Dee Ragusa recalls. "We had something. Now we had something."

And that's what they buried. Approximately two teaspoons of their beloved son's blood in a glass vial. Two years later, under a clear late-summer sky, flanked by two thousand firefighters frozen in white-gloved salute...nine men in dress blue uniforms slowly pulled a wooden casket from a fire truck and carried the box containing what remained of their final lost comrade into St. Bernard Roman Catholic Church.


Michael Paul Ragusa was born to Vincent and Dee on July 30 1972.

29 years later he gave his life to the people of New York City by doing his best to help save the lives of those occupying the World Trade Centre. He was the last of the 343 firefighters killed in the aftermath of the WTC attack to be officially memorialised.

The Ragusas live in the Bergen Beach neighborhood of Brooklyn, an isolated waterfront enclave that did not have paved streets until the 1960s. This is where Mikey used to play in the empty lots, get dirty, get into trouble. Now their street is named after him.

My heart goes out to the Ragusa family and Michael's friends on this 5th anniversary of September 11. You are truly blessed to have had 29 years with such a wonderful and giving man. From the research I've done and the news articles I've read, it is very obvious to me where his strength and caring nature comes from. Good people are surrounded by and supported by more good people.

I am honoured to pay tribute to this courageous young man today. My only regret is that I never knew him personally myself.

Please visit this page for links to more 9/11 tributes. Thank you.

Edit: The above link has now been changed. The original site of 2996 is experiencing errors due to high traffic volume and as such the list of participants and their honourees has been mirrored on a new link.
Thursday, September 07, 2006

Have Viagra, Will Travel

"Good Afternoon, Blah Medical Centre, Lisa speaking"

"Hello Lisa, Jack Brown here, I have somewhat of an unusual request."

"Hello Mr Brown, no problem, I've already had some interesting conversations with you in the away."

"Ok. I'm going overseas shortly and my 70th birthday is coming up. At one stage I will be taking a cruise from Prague to Budapest."

"Oh how wonderful!...I'm extremely jealous."

"Now, during that time, and on my 70th, I suspect I am going to require, for the first time in my life, some viagra."

"Oh, goodness....that sounds pretty exciting."

"Yes, I'm not sure what I'm getting myself into but there you go. Due to the fact I leave NZ on Saturday, I'm running out of time to see the doctor and I was hoping he'd write me a script without me having to come in."

"I understand, let me have a word with him, make sure he's happy to do that after he's checked out any other medication you may be on, and I'll call you back ok?"

"Thank you hinny (??), most appreciated."

After telling him I could just as easily fax the script to his closest pharmacy Mr Brown rang off. I went to speak to his doctor between patients. No problem, he was happy to prescribe the little blue pill.

Doc: "Oh, when you talk to him, ask him if he'd like me to test run his birthday present first for him lol"

Me: "Eh? You actually want me to ask him THAT??"

Doc: "Sure, why not?"

Me: "Yeah alright...whatever"

*ring ring*

"Hello Mr Brown, it's Lisa here from Blah Medical Centre. Doc is quite happy to put together a script for you and we can fax that to your local pharmacy without you having to come all the way out here to see us ok?"

"That's wonderful, thank you so much hinny (??), you've been a huge help."

"You're welcome. Oh and he said to ask you if you'd like him to test out your birthday present first, just in case."

" him I really appreciate his help but in this instance I will be first in line."

10 minutes later - *ring ring*

"Hello again hinny (ffs), Mr Brown here, I think I may have misunderstood what Doc meant. Please let him know that I will report back to him."

"What about me?? Do I get to hear about this too? I mean I've been doing all the to-ing and fro-ing, surely I get to hear what went on, it only seems fair really."

"Oh yes, ok, I shall make it my business to report back to both of you."

"Excellent! Enjoy your trip abroad and have a terrific birthday!"

30 minutes later the phone rings again and is answered by my co-worker. The caller is wanting to speak with me and as my co-worker passes over the call he says "Whoever he is, he sounds pretty hushed and secretive". Yes, it was Mr Brown.

"Lisa, Jack here...I'm at the pharmacy now and they say they don't have a script for me at all."

I explained that the doctor had been doing minor surgery most of the afternoon and that he would have to wait until the morning before collecting his prescription. He asked me if I often had unusual conversations with the patients.

"Yes, I've had a few and I realise that this particular one for you is a bit unnerving but let me just say....if it makes you feel any better, you have just given me hope for my future."

"Oh? How so?"

"For a 41 year old woman to hear that the FIRST time you need to use this pill at the age of 70?...well that's just made my day!"

*chuckle* "The pleasure is all mine hinny."

"Well after all this running about? *sigh* I really do hope so Mr Brown."
Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Mother May I?

Do you think you are a better mother than your mother? And what good/bad traits as a mother do you think you learned from your mother? And what characteristics as a mother do you think you learned on your own or because of the boys you have.
From Leilani of The Pursuit of Meaning

I don't think I'm a better mother than my own...I'm just a different mother. I had never really felt 'connected' properly to my Mum. She always seemed tired and grumpy when I was growing up. I never brought back friends from school for fear of upsetting her...she just didn't seem to like extra children around the house. As I got older I started to realise and understand there were reasons for that. If my kids want to have their friends over, they know it's ok for them to do so, but they always ask first to make sure I don't have other plans.

My mum had always said that she didn't bring her girls up to be running around after males. The irony of that is, that's what I ended up doing lol. And still do to a certain extent of course considering I have two boys. We would all have set chores that needed doing each weekend and they were done automatically, noone questioned her. She was a fastidious housekeeper and we did her bidding. A complete opposite on this subject, my house is always needing chores done. I've been slack in 'training' my own kids to do the menial chores around here and nothing gets done unless I ask. I take the responsibility of that being my own fault. I don't ask, I don't get. But when I do ask, they do (if that makes sense lol).

Being independent and stubborn I've always tried to sort things out my own's not often that I stop what I'm doing and think "what would Mum do in this situation?" My mother never interferes in anything I do...she sits back and watches and even if I ask, her responses are short and pretty much "I don't know, it's up to you." I would often wish she would just give an opinion or say something that I could work with even if I chose to do it a different way eventually.

She was never a very touchy feely person. And I recall her telling me several years ago that she had to force herself to cuddle us when we were was the way she grew up...her mother was never a cuddler. In contrast I was the opposite with my boys when they were younger. I've found it to be one of the greater pleasures of being a mother have a toddler fall asleep on peaceful and trusting in your arms, they're secure in the knowledge that noone or nothing will harm them there.


Parenting is a rocky road as most of you know. I think we learn from those around us. We implement what we feel will work for us, and toss aside that which we feel will not. Trial and error. If one technique doesn't suit my family, I move on trying something else. Now my kids are older, they're quite vocal in telling me what works for them and what doesn't, but they both understand and respect that I have the final word in this house. And although they may not be happy with it, they abide by it (and end up throwing it back in my face at a later date if things go tits up lol).

One thing that I definitely taught my children as they were growing up, is that they could always, always come to me or their father if they wanted to discuss something. No matter how big or small. I hope that I've proven that to them over the years. I will down tools and listen. With Cameron, this often starts with him coming into the lounge and sitting down while I'm at the computer. A "What's up?" from me, can start off a conversation that lasts for 3 hours (I have to say here, there are times when I find it difficult to stop my eyes glazing over and wondering if he's ever going to go away again lol). Ryan is short, sharp and sweet...if he comes to see me, it's for information he wants, directly, no bells or whistles...once he's got it, he's gone again.

I never felt my mother was there enough for me when I was younger. I believe that was the economic situation my family were in, and her upbringing via my grandmother who was very big on "children should be seen and not heard" or "only speak when spoken to." Society and generation changes have a lot to do with how different we are as parents today in comparison to how they were when we were growing up.

If there's anything in particular that I've learned from being a parent, it's that each child is a unique individual. Once you learn how each of them works, you can treat them accordingly. My boys are not only like chalk at cheese in physical appearance, but also in their outlooks on life. The most important thing for me, is that they know they're loved beyond all reason and I will always be there to help in any way I can (whether they ask or not lol).
Monday, September 04, 2006

Home and Away

Did you ever run away from home or at least threaten to do so?
From Mr Haney of Ramblin On

Apparently I used to run away all the time when I was a toddler. My parents bought a swing and slide set for the backyard to keep me there...that's where I used to run play on those contraptions in other kiddies' yards. It didn't make any difference, I still buggered off. When I was about 4 I used to 'run away' to my Aunt's house...she only lived around the corner...and whenever I stomped out the door, my Mum would ring my Aunt and say "Lisa's on her way again" lol.

My older sister ran away several times when she was a young teenager. She rang me after she'd taken off one time and asked me to pack a bag of clothes for her and hide it in the garden shed....of course I did it. My parents were furious with me when they found out.

Seeing the pain and fear my parents went through with my sister running away, was enough to keep me grounded and at home during my teenage years. And besides I never felt the need to run away. The first time I ever 'ran away' during my teen years, I was 2 months shy of my 18th mother helped me pack and even asked if she could come with me.

The next time I stayed in my parents' home, I was 25 years old, married, with a 10 month old Cameron on my hip and I stayed for a total of 9 weeks, while our house was being built. That's where Ryan was conceived...under my parents' roof lol. I've never been back, except to stay on holiday, when they retired to the South Island.

(When Cameron was 9 he packed his bag and threatened to run away...I let him get as far as his first foot out the door and called out "Wait!"....He stopped and turned to look at me with a smirk on his face, and I asked "Do you have your toothbrush?"...That went down like a lead balloon lol. )

What is your job like? I used to be a job developer and love that topic!
From PBS of Life is a Peanut Butter Sandwich

My job is busy and varied. I'm a medical receptionist in one of my region's more opulent suburbs. I only work 21 hours a week, and to be honest, I don't know how well I'd cope working full time there. The pace is full on, which I do love, and the time flies...but I come home exhausted after most shifts.

When I got home the other day Ryan asked me "How was work today?" I told him it was crappy. He said "Seems to me Mum, that you're not having too many 'good' days at your job lately." He gave me something to think about. Maybe it's time I moved on and looked at going back to full time PA work again?

The following day I worked with a colleague who had, just the week before, found her best friend had passed away peacefully in her sleep. This lady was only 58 years old and had been in and out of our centre several times during the two weeks prior to her death, twice during my shifts. My colleague told me that her friend had said recently, that each time she'd come in to see the doc, while I was working, that I had treated her so well she actually felt cherished.

Hearing that did wonders to jump-start my spirits about this position. I've held it for over 5 years now and while sometimes I do feel like gritting my teeth when dealing with difficult patients, there are others that make me feel I'm in the right industry for me.


I hope that answers those questions for you two. I'll continue to post answers to the rest over time but in no particular order. I still have a post to put together for my 9/11 tribute, so that's taking up some of my computer time at the moment.

Happy Monday!
Friday, September 01, 2006

History Repeating Itself

Yesterday, I went into the local menswear store to buy him a new pair of jeans (he was at work already). The young lady behind the counter said to me "You're Cameron's Mum aren't you?"...apparently she'd only left his school the month before. After replying yes, I asked her what size she thought he might be, it'd been a while since I bought pants for him.

She immediately said "90cm". That was pretty much around what I'd thought myself. He's grown a fair bit more this year...taller and broader. I'm his Mum, I should have some idea right? She didn't even have to think about it...she knew. You know what that means don't you? That girl's been checking out my son's body! (Not only does she know his jean measurement, she is also now aware of what size underwear he takes lol.)

Last night he brought me the form for next year's courses. He's chosen his university entrance subjects and needed me to sign my approval. At the top of the form was a section that asked for a short reason as to why these subjects were chosen. He'd written "Future within the computer industry based in a foreign country." I know it's what he's wanted for the longest time now...but knowing that didn't make it any easier to read. He looked at the expression on my face, put his arm around me and said "Don't worry Mum, I can always fly you out to be with me sometimes." (I guess that means he has plans to win the lottery too. Go son!)

This morning when I dropped him off to school he got out of the car, warmly greeting a young lady as she'd just been dropped off herself. I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, I had to take a second look at her. If my son is going to say hello so warmly to another female...I'm a'gonna be a'lookin', k? Girls. *sigh* There are girls finally coming into my older son's life. Ryan? I've got used to that, he's more outgoing and openly charming and his girlfriend is lovely. I can cope with it with him.

Cameron? As charming and respectful as he is to the females on this planet, he's shown no sign of being that interested in them. It's surprised me in some ways but he's very like his Uncle. David had no interest in girls until the 6th form. Cam's in the 6th form this year. Bingo. Game on. Mum is not allowed to say anything out loud about girls and Cameron. I am only permitted to yell "Nooooooooo!"...where noone can hear in my mind. That's an echo chamber if you haven't already guessed, and that "No" can bounce around in there infinitely when it comes to this subject.

Regardless of what age either of my children are, like any parent, I will never stop worrying about their welfare. I will cry when they're broken hearted and scream in jubilation at each of their triumphs. It'll be a little difficult if one (or both) of them is in a bloody different country of course (namely Japan)...but I'll still do it nonetheless.

17 years ago today, my oldest son was born. Four hours of labour, 12 minutes of pushing, a few complications and he came into this world at 4.55am. He arrived on the exact date he was due and he's been as precise ever since.

17 years ago my life changed in more ways than I could have possibly imagined. 17 years ago I had a mental growth spurt overnight and started on the winding road of parenthood, yet to discover the emotional rollercoaster of what that actually meant. 17 years ago today, his father and I gazed down at him in his crib...his Dad saying with awe and pride "Look what we made."

And 17 years later, I look up at Cameron and think to myself..."Yeah. We did good...real good."

It might seem like it, but I really haven't forgotten about the questions in my comments back down there. I will answer them in the next week or so, I promise. Due to the state of health of this household and the beginning of prelim exams etc, time appears to be running against us faster than usual!