‘I’m back?’ … Well, I can’t make any promises… ‘Back’ is a promise I just can’t promise to keep… Life is crazy at the moment… Crazy, but blissful! Stevo & I have started our own business, which has been going really really well. Our baby girl is not so baby anymore… She’s 6 months old and is a constant source of amazement & amusement (she’s also a little bit challenging… but don’t tell her I said that…) Our whole family (yes, all three of us) are home all of the time, which is a challenge in itself, but we’re living in a gorgeous but simple house in a beautifully quiet area with amazing scenery… Needless to say. Home life is bliss! Next on the agenda (well, for me at least – Stevo loves his danishes!): Join a gym! It’s time to get back to my pre baby (spending- 2-hours-a-day-at-the-gym) bod. I’d like to see firm muscle when I accidently catch my reflection, rather than uber soft flesh that has a mind of it’s own… (She’s going left, hmmm, I might go right…)
But, in saying that, I don’t really know how possible it is… What mother has 2 hours a day to herself?? Not that I mind… Motherhood rocks! I love watching Nylah experience new things each day. Today, she discovered the doorknob and the legs of the coffee table. It’s so amazing to watch those little hands, touching, feeling, trying to understand what this thing is! Her little eyes, looking, searching, wondering. Her attention. So fixated, but one noise, and she’s gone. One giggle from mummy. One comment by daddy. It’s over. We ruined it. Rats!!
The other day, Stevo walked in the door, abruptly stating ‘I’ve crashed your car. You’d better come have a look’. Which I couldn’t do as I was sitting on the couch, bottle in hand, a hungry bub grunting, reaching, willing it into her mouth… I just sat there. Stunned. Then he came in with a laptop. Plonked it on the couch and said ‘I bought that for you’. Talk about feeling low & high all at once… Hmmm… Shouldn’t that have left me in the middle somewhere? Perhaps in some sort of ‘zen’ state… I wish. Instead, I felt angry, happy, resentful, excited, pissed off, stoked and… stuck! Stuck with my baby on my lap… A new laptop, in a box, in front of me. A crashed car in the driveway that I couldn’t see. And a frustrated man, pacing the room… But you know what, and I hate to get all ‘reflective’ on you, but isn’t it moments like that that remind you that you’re alive…. Up until that moment, life was progressing swimmingly. No complaints. No excitement. It just was. But in an instant. Everything changed. All I could do was focus on my baby and her perfect little sighs as she drank her milk. The simple perfection of a life that has no worries. No concerns. No stress. No pain… Looking at that serene little face helped to settle me. She helped me find my ‘zen’. And (obviously) made me smile… By the time she’d finished lunch, I wasn’t too worried about the car. No one was hurt. Insurance is taking care of the damages… And my laptop ROCKS! It’s got an Intel i5! Woohoo!
… I wish I had more exciting stories to tell you, but, as you can see, life has been fairly quiet… But you know what… I’m not complaining. Quiet = Bliss!!
Who said you couldn’t do it all once you’ve had a baby?! It just requires a certain amount of ‘tweaking’…
A quick update in the life of Gimme:
Had a baby
Moved to QLD
Made more plans
Hmmm… Deleted above
Jump Jump Jump!
Slept a little
Awake a lot
…Oops… I meant, Nylah…
Shot a TV commercial
Wrote a childrens story
Made plans to go shopping
Stayed home instead
Jumping for Joy!
Planned to write a blog
A squeaky clean family life (who woulda thunk it?!)
Went away for 3 days
But missed my ONE!!
Cuddles on my return
Lost my milk
We’re on bottles now
Tired beyond belief but gosh darnit… I sure do know I’m alive!!!!!!!
Rain, Rain Go Away! Come again another day!
So there we are… You’re up to date! I’m doing all that I can in order to get Moore outta life… I’m living up to my end of the bargain… Well, as much as possible, anyway. “Aah, but what next?” I hear you ask… Hahah! I knew I liked you… You’re keeping me honest. Keeping me moving. Holding me accountable… WELL… The list doesn’t stop there… Yes… That’s right… It continues… (as do my triple fullstops)… What’s next on the agenda?! -
Another trip to Cairns
A trip to Melbourne to see my play
A new computer
Pursuing writing another play…
But I won’t be decluttering my ‘workstation’ any time soon…
Because there’s one beautiful little piece of my life that has to stay just as she is.
For no matter what I pursue & what plans I make (and break), she is the one I do it all for!
She is pure perfection!
At the end of the most surreal week of my life, crowded with a myriad of thoughts, feelings & emotions that need to be expressed, blogging seems like the most logical thing to do (at 5am on a Monday morning). It’s been almost a week since my little one was born and I had no idea that my life could be so blessed (even though this little angel took her mother on a hard road to get here)…
Through my pregnancy & childbirth I’ve wondered why there are so many things that us women don’t know about. Things that we don’t tell each other. The yukky stuff. The embarrassing stuff. The painful stuff. And I’m not at all talking about the cliches that we see in movies. I’m talking about the things that YOU (unless you’ve had a baby) don’t know. My original plan for this blog was to ‘shed some light’, so that the next woman who has a baby won’t be shocked to learn that every midwife that enters her room will ask “can I check your pad?” (SAY WHAT NOW??!!)
But as I’ve jumped on here to document my labour horror story (and yes, we all have one) I’ve realised why no one talks about it. I’ve realised why us women don’t feel the need to elaborate on the gross aspects. Why we don’t tell each other what labour contractions really feel like… The reason why we don’t is quite simple… We’ve forgotten. Or more to the point… It doesn’t matter!!
I find it so amazing that Stephen and I have created another being. A tiny little human being that will walk the earth as we have done. A pair of feet that will forge their own way one day. A pair of feet that will make footprints in the sand. A pair of feet that will run and play and fall. A pair of feet that will one day wear high heels. A human being!…
It seems so hard to believe.
Until now, my life has always been about me. Just me. My goals. My dreams. My desires. Others have been in my life, but never entirely in my heart… The love that I feel for her is impossible to describe. As I watch her sleep I whisper to her to have happy dreams and to pass her bad ones to me. Almost every minute of the day I find myself stroking her face and telling her how beautiful she is. I have no idea how many times I have kissed her face, her head, her neck. If she’s uncomfortable, I rock her in my arms for as long as it takes, ignoring the pains in my back and my belly. I keep her close to me, having daytime naps together on the couch, her head to my chest, her ear to my heart.
So as I start to type, wanting to let you in on all the difficulties of childbirth, I realise that all I can think about is that petite little face that was, less than half an hour ago, attached to my breast making soft little grunts of contentment. Those tiny little hands that grip my finger, my hair, my clothes, my heart. That warm, round little tummy with the sticky out belly button. Those strong little legs that kick, kick, kick. That soft hair tickling my lips, my chin, my cheek as this little one snuggles into my neck. And those feet. Oh my golly gosh. Those tiny little feet.
Impending motherhood has gotten me thinking about family & what it means to me…
I am extremely blessed to be a member of a very close family unit. My parents, my brothers, my sisters, all of us are so close. We all support each other. We’re there for each other when things go bad. And I put all of this down to my parents. If we ever fought, as children, we had to hug and make up. We had to look each other in the eye and apologise whilst holding hands. We had to say (and this is no joke) “This is my brother. I only have one little brother. I love my brother”… Of course, this doesn’t mean that our family home was like the Flanders’… No way!! We fought. We grappled. We cried. We screamed. BUT we were never allowed to let it ‘hang’ or ‘fester’. We were never allowed to hold a grudge. We had to get over it… A lot of the time, that meant we’d turn our mischievous attention to mum, and gang up on her! I do not know how she didn’t lose it with us! TJ & I were shocking! We would taunt her. Run from her. Laugh if she got angry. Dare her to try and catch us (and always when she was in the middle of something – a phonecall, sewing, cooking dinner)… But at the end of the day, when we were going to bed, she was the one that we wanted to tuck us in. She was the one that made us love each other! AND HER!!
Looking back, I think it was fantastic parenting!! My parents wanted to start a new generation of our family. Both my mum and my dad were, in a sense, only children. Both for very different reasons, but they both shared one feeling. A general lack of ‘family’ in their upbringing. My mum grew up as an only child, only to find out at around 30 that she had 2 half sisters… My dad grew up as the oldest of 6. Believing himself to be the ‘big’ brother, until his ‘father’, in a drunken rage broke the news (and his nose) that he was a… how did he put it? Oh yes… A BASTARD (his words), along with… “You’re not my son, you little shit!” His family broke up not long after, with most of the kids ending up in orphanages, his mother literally ran away & my dad, a young man of only 16, was put in a boys home as they had nowhere else for him to go. He spent months living with kids that were ‘doing time’. He kept to himself as much as possible as he dreaded the question “what are you in for?”… “My mother ran away” never seemed like an impressive enough reason compared to the other boys’ exploits, like “I burnt my school down”. But, as luck would have it, a wonderful family fostered my dad and taught him exactly what family meant. He learnt what it meant to be a father. A man. A brother. A loving human being. But most of all, he discovered what he wanted to create in his own life. In his own family.
So, my parents had one goal. To create a family unit. Which they did…
Which brings me to the reason for this post. My gorgeous little brother sent me the most amazing message today. A message that brought instant tears to my eyes. A message that makes me so so proud! It’s so well constructed. So eloquently written. It paints an amazing portrait of a life not yet born. A little girl. A daughter. A niece. A little being that has not even entered this world, but is already affecting it. That is the power of family. And of love. Without that, what else is there? What else is this life about, but these beautiful moments that make your heart sing. Jake. I love you. Thank you. And I hope you don’t mind my sharing your dream…
“Hey Em, just had to let you know about this dream I had last night… I was sitting in a mild yellow room in a little chair, it was quite warm, outside there were vast fields and meadows that seemed not to end, the vibrant colours of green and golden sulfur were scattered everywhere. There was not a cloud in the sky as the sun lightly kissed my cheeks through the window. Sitting across this petite little table, not a meter from me, was a beautiful little girl barely 8 years old. Her blonde locks and emerald eyes pierced my heart. I felt the flutter of butterflies in my stomach as she smiled at me and passed over an empty cup of tea. She let out tiny giggles as I tried to gulp it all down. Her laughter was as beautiful to my ears as her face was to my eyes. Then, to my right, this white wooden door started to open. You walked inside and leant against the frame of the door smiling your biggest, most gorgeous smile. Behind you, the whole family (including Steve :D) were setting up the dinner table ready to eat. They were all laughing (and crying) – I’m guessing from one of dad’s jokes… HA! Nothing was said. I stood up and lifted this little girl into my arms. She was light as a feather and felt fragile to touch, but her arms around my neck squeezed tight as she kissed me on the cheek… The door behind us closed leaving her fluffy little friends to have tea on their own.
This was last night’s dream… Well, amongst fighting dragons and warlocks of course.
love you xoxoxoxoxox”
Well… We ALL have dreams about fighting dragons & warlocks… Don’t we?!
With absolutely NO topic in mind, I have logged on to BLOG! Why? Because this was meant to be my way of getting more out of myself, my life. Of finding goals. Of achieving goals. Having a blog (and readers) was meant to be my impetus! To hold me accountable! And you do! You all do! And as they say, it’s not you, it’s me! For what have I allowed myself to do?… Fall off the damn wagon! I’ve been neglecting blogging because I feel like I’m not doing anything towards my daily happiness. I’ve been neglecting blogging because I don’t want to admit to you all that it took a grand total of 3 months for me to achieve not very much at all. I’ve been neglecting blogging because I don’t want to admit that I’m not happy…
One of the best ways to convince people that you’re happy is to post photos. Photos, photos everywhere. Big smiles from days past. Happy times with friends, with family. Times that are not ‘real’ in this present moment but times that make you smile when looking back. As if looking back can somehow erase the pain that you may feel today… Which it does, actually, but only briefly… Which, as you all would have cottoned onto by now, was my recent facebook attempt at “look at how happy I am!” Without saying a single word, without updating a single status, without writing a single blog, I can convince you all that I am happy. Happy with my lot in life. But I’m not. Which doesn’t mean I’m unhappy. Not entirely. The truth is that I’m scared shitless!!!! And shit! Why shouldn’t I be????!!!! I’m about to have a baby to a man that I haven’t even been with for a year yet. A man who I’m still learning about. A man who’s still learning about me. This me. Pregnant me. A man who never wants to get married. A man from another country who just may want to go back someday. I’m having a baby and we’re moving 4 weeks later – to QLD. This part of the equation makes me happy AND sad. My industry is here, but my family are there. I have friends there, but I have even closer friends here that I am going to miss terribly. I have dreams and goals but don’t know how I’ll ever achieve them AND be a mum! It’s scary!! On top of all that – I’m in quite a bit of physical pain which seems to only accentuate the emotional pain…
The truth is that I don’t know how to be ‘me’ and a mum. And although I’d love you all to think that I have it ‘together’, I don’t. I’d love to be able to get on here today and write a blog about how awesome things are. About how excited I am. About how everything’s falling into place beautifully. But in my present moment, that is not my reality. And if I have learnt anything at all, it is to accept your present as if you have chosen it. Accept it AND Welcome it. Only then can you find the impetus to change it. For after all, my favourite quote of all time has to be:
“Everything Is As It Should Be”… Hmmm……
What makes high thread count Egyptian Cotton so divine?? Why is slipping into a bed made with Egyptian Cotton sheets such a perfect end to a long day? And why is it that men do not understand that simple little pleasure?? Why is my man just as content with a polyester/cotton blend? How is it that he doesn’t notice the difference?
The other day, my dad did a little bit of painting around our house and needed a drop sheet – as he’s not so good with paint! Don’t get me wrong. He’s good at getting it on the places it has to go, but he’s also good at getting it on the places it isn’t meant to go… ie, the floors, his hair, his arms, his legs, the brand new pants mum bought him for his trip down here etc… He gets it everywhere!! Hence the suit… Hahah!…
Anyhoo… Since we’re moving soon and currently have one extra living with us (AND dad staying over at the time) there wasn’t an old spare sheet in sight. So, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to offer one of our sheets straight off our bed so that I had the excuse to go out that very day & buy a new set of divine, deluxe, soft, expensive Egyptian Cotton sheets!! Because let’s be honest girls, any excuse to shop will do… But unfortunately for me, I couldn’t find the perfect sheets! Because even though I’m a bit of an impulse buyer (I can just see my partner nodding his head enthusiastically), I also won’t settle for anything less than perfection – especially when I’m spending big bucks on sheets with no less than a 500+ thread count. But, by 3pm, I still hadn’t found the perfect set, so I decided to buy a cheap pair from K-Mart. They’d at least do for now… And they could become ‘visitor sheets’ once we’d moved up north… Well, one night on polyester/cotton and oh my god! My man slept like a baby. Me on the other hand… Well, I slept like a baby with Colic! I didn’t catch a wink! All I did was scratch all night! I was itchy everywhere. At about 2 in the morning, I found the one sheet that dad hadn’t spilt paint on in the laundry (yes, it’s egyptian cotton) and wrapped myself in it before jumping back into bed. Finally!! I got some sleep!!
When Mr Man tried to snuggle up to me at 4:30am I mumbled “you’re not getting in. I’m in a coccoon.” He laughed and kept trying… He thought I was being cute. But I really was in a coccoon. An egyptian cotton coccoon & it was all mine!!!
The next day I found some Egyptian Cotton sheets on ebay & bought them straight away. That was two days ago & they arrived today!! They are divine! And I can’t wait to slip into my bed tonight. And I’m sure my man will be happy that our bed is back to being a coccoon for two because he sure does like to snuggle!!… Especially during winter!
In the past week, I have had four people tell me that I inspire them. Four people!!! That seems like a lot to me…. Especially when my first thought is “WHY??!!”
For some, it’s been due to my blog, for others, it’s related to my current artistic project, whilst one other seems to be inspired merely by the fact that I’m pregnant & still writing & devising & (quite frankly) still dreaming… (nope… haven’t given up yet!)
But to me, this seems like nothing. It’s just what I do, and it’s nowhere near the amount of things I normally tackle at once. Rehearsing for two shows at a time, working two jobs AND studying to be a personal trainer all at once. Now THAT was inspiring! I possibly could’ve even inspired myself, if I wasn’t so tired from being up at 5am & not getting home till 10 at night, 5 days a week as well as 8 hours study on a Saturday & rehearsals on a Sunday…
So, obviously, hearing those words in recent times has led me to think ‘but I’m no-one & I’m doing nothing’. I mean… Let’s be real here! I’m still (6 years on) struggling with my own dreams & wishes & goals. I find it so hard to see them ever coming to fruition (maybe I think I don’t deserve them, maybe I’m not good enough) but in regards to others & their goals, I can see them being achieved so clearly. I have such high aspirations for others & their goals. I can see my partner studying something that inspires him to live the life he deserves. I can see my sister being a fashion designer, travelling the world with her creations. I can see a friend of mine in Hollywood with a bulldog & Aston Martin. I can see another friend on stage with Red Stitch. I can see all these things happening for all these people, but struggle to see my own dreams coming true…
In expressing this thought to the owner of one of the recent “you inspire me” comments, I received this email in reply:
“Wow. It amazes me sometimes when you say you don’t understand why people would be inspired by you. Little you. Just you. Someone who’s done nothing (your words) and who is no one (your words). But how confused you are. You ARE someone. You are someone AMAZING. You don’t take no for an answer. You decide on something and nothing could possibly stand in your way. This love of creation is built into you and your character. You have this energy which outshines everyone else and just says look at me and what I can do. The love of creation is so great in you. Think about it. By instinct. On complete autopilot. You are creating the most beautiful creature you could ever imagine. From within, you knew that this was your next big leap in life. Soon you will hold this tiny creature in your arms and watch her grow, change, and learn. She will inspire you. You. She will be your muse. You have an amazing talent Emma Moore. You are someone wonderful. You have seen many interesting things. You have created many striking performances. Everything you tackle you achieve with flying colours. Your thoughts are now inspiring more and more people everyday. And you inspire me. And you should be proud that you have this gift.
That others can see in you, what they hope to find in themselves, is such a beautiful thing. Capture it. Use your gift to create these performances which move, inspire and allow others to dream. Only then. Will you fly too. I write this with tears in my eyes and a tighness in my chest. I so wish you could see yourself as I do.”
What an amazing email to receive… My heartfelt thanks to this person. To this wonderful, amazing person who has affected my life in more ways than she could ever know… My question now is… Who’s inspiring who??? Hmm…
Maybe inspiration, support & caring about others is something that comes full circle… Maybe in giving, you are bound to receive… I like that thought… And if not, well I think inspiring others to achieve their dreams may be better than achieving my own.
At least it pays me emotionally, if not financially… Although I’d certainly like both…
But, my time’s not over yet… Not by a long shot…
Watch this space, my friends!!!!
It’s been well over a week since my last post… My reader stats have gone from 120-150 per day, to approximately 50 hits in the last week… But I haven’t been concerned with that. I haven’t checked my stats until right now… (prior to which, it was a daily, sometimes hourly, addiction)…
You may be wondering ‘why the disappearing act?’
Well, there were a few factors, but most of them were small things & not really enough to stop me writing. The main reason was a comment I received on my last blog. A comment from someone I know. A friend, even. His comment touched me very deeply and I have been unable to shake it. When I wrote “The Voices Within”, it was not my intention to stir a resting pot. To be quite honest, I wasn’t expecting a single comment on that blog, seeing as it’s a topic that most try to steer clear of… But, the comment that I received, shook me so much as to render me unable to blog! Unable to think about anything but, yet haven’t had the willpower to log into wordpress and approve it (although I have just done so now). If you want to read the full comment, go to the last post, but for now, here’s an excerpt… I hope he doesn’t mind my sharing…
“You know that I can be a pretty negative person, whereas I see myself more as realistic than negative. It’s all perception.
I’m sure people have heard the voices before and fought them off but what if the voices don’t stop? Or they come back again and again. To fight the pessimism, you need the right weaponry in your arsenal. Clearly, Emma, you have it – optimism – probably in the guise of some big, bad ass broad sword (I’ve seen you with weapons!) which you wield two handed. I also know that I don’t have a broad sword, only a blunt and broken old battle-axe, which only keeps the voices at arms length. What happens if it breaks? While I’m fighting the only thing worth fighting for with the wrong weapon, I don’t have time for anything or anyone else.
And of course, you can get people to help, and help they do. They come in with their two handed broad sword and it’s done. For now. But what about at 3am when you’re alone in the dark and the monster comes? All I have is the old battle-axe and the fight starts again.
I do wish to have a broad sword like you Emma, but it’s not like you can buy this kind of weaponry at a store, is it?
One time, during a dark moment, I quipped to a friend, “Life’s not for everyone”. Naturally, he talked me down of that ledge, but of late I’m starting to think about that more and more.
I’m starting to think that I’ll never win.”
This comment has really gotten me thinking about the power of the written word (and, in turn, the internet). I am astounded at the idea that something I’ve written in an online journal (aka blog) has the power to affect someone else so deeply that they then feel inspired to write their story to be published for the world (well, my little blog world, anyway) to see. It’s quite powerful. Quite human. Quite raw. And quite astonishing… And I want to thank that person from the bottom of my heart. It surely wasn’t easy for him to open up and say all that he has said.
My only hope is that he finds that his little old battle axe is actually a beautiful, shining broad sword. And has been all along. A mighty sword that he can swing above his head with all his strength and strike fear into the midnight monster’s black little heart…
For, as he himself said, it is all about perception!
Haven’t blogged for a few days as I’ve been writing a play… A piece that’s dedicated to two friends of mine that had chosen to end their own lives. Lives that were unnecessarily (in my view) but necessarily (in theirs) cut short. It’s so devastating when someone makes that decision that they don’t want to live anymore. That the beauty and the wonder that we see today, they don’t see. They see only black. Day after day they experience only sadness. Only rejection. Only neglect.
I think that most of us relate to having that feeling from time to time, in very small doses. I have a very distant memory of it… And all over a boy. Actually, it’s my belief that most of our deepest, darkest feelings are in some way connected with the feeling that is normally associated with ultimate happiness… Love.
The loss of love.
The yearning for love.
The need for love.
The lack of love.
Although love can be a double edged sword, we all want it. Love has the capacity to make you feel the greatest of highs and the lowest of lows. It can make you hate someone with pure venom. It can make you feel as though you are floating through your day on a cloud. It can make what you may deem to be a somewhat meaningless existence feel like it’s the most important thing in the world.
There’s family love, supportive love, real love, clingy love, love love, but the worst form of all… unrequited love. How awful is it when you love someone SO much that you can see every waking moment of your future with them? When you love someone SO much, that you’re sure that they will love you back… if only they could see it. When you love someone SO much that you’ll do anything and everything for that person. When you love someone SO much that you’re willing to sacrifice your life in order for them to realize it!!!
So why did they end their turmoil? Was it to do with love? Well, in these sorts of circumstances, one can only speculate… But we know this. Both were no stranger to rejection from the opposite sex. Neither had a girlfriend (or had had one in a very long time… years). Neither were very close to their families. One of them had been best man at 3 of his friend’s weddings… He once joked with me that he was “always a best man, never a man.” I didn’t get the joke.
During his time of darkness, he had asked someone on a date. Had been rejected. Had tried again, same girl, one day before. Again, rejected. Sat in front of his TV for an entire night, drinking Jim Beam cans. Didn’t go to bed. Was still sitting there, numb, at 10 in the morning when the monster came and hung him from the rafters.
The other spoke to no one. Took some ‘me-time’… Nothing wrong with that, is there?? Disappeared for a few days… Perhaps he thought about driving somewhere but the monster blew poison into his car. We know nothing more.
Thinking about this awful topic for days and days has been nothing less than hard! It’s not easy to picture all the things that these young men must’ve gone through & why they didn’t say anything. But they never say anything. They’re fine. They’re just chilling out. You can’t see what’s going on inside their heads. You can’t hear the voices they’re hearing.
So that’s what I’m writing about. About the voices. The awful, negative, soul-destroying things that they say.
And I think most of us have heard them from time to time. The difference is that we don’t let them take over. We don’t let them be right. We fight. We fight against the pessimism, and for the most part, we win.
Personally, I think it’s the only fight worth fighting.
If you feel any of these negative feelings and wish you had someone to talk to… someone who cares… please… please… before you do anything… no matter how much sense it may make to you at the time, go to http://www.beyondblue.org.au