Five years later….

Another year without you Dad,

Twelve months of  ‘life goes on’,

And yes – it does, despite being sad,

I’m learning that’s NOT wrong.

~

It’s hardest when the memories come,

And take me by surprise,

The smallest thing pulls me undone,

And tears pour from my eyes.

~

But memories can bring laughter too,

And cheerfulness heals pain,

Remembering the pranks you’d do,

Has me giggling and smiling again.

~

You taught me how to be my best,

You showed me how to laugh,

To trust in God whatever the test,

And to always follow my heart.

~

You taught me that life’s greatest things,

Are people – not possessions,

And showed me how much joy it brings

To love life’s little lessons.

~

I’m thankful for the times we had,

I’ll cherish them forever,

Those thirty-two years I called you ‘Dad’,

They couldn’t have been any better.

 

 

Love you Dad.

 

5 years today.  XX ♥ XX

Deeper

I’ve been pretty slack at this whole blogging thing lately. I have had a lot to say but have been unable to put it into words that I’m comfortable enough with to publish.

Because the truth is, I’m hanging on by a thread at the moment. I’ve become pretty good at hiding my despair but thankfully, there are three people in particular in my life who are always there on the end of a text, phone call or email who keep me from completely losing it.

And they are all able to read between the lines and work out what’s really going on. I love all of them so dearly.

But even so, there is still so much that I really need to write out and deal with and I’ve struggled with writing it out ever since my writing was harshly criticized and made fun of recently.

I’m struggling with the bigger things too.

Like our visits to Harley’s psychologist. I haven’t even processed the information that she gave me on his first visit let alone the other times that he has been. He is just so complex and his issues are way over my head and capabilities and frankly: it scares the heck outta me. I’m not sure that I’ll ever be enough when it comes to helping him.

And the out-of-control behaviour that we are seeing in Lucas at the moment is something that I’ve honestly never seen before. I wonder if its an end-of-year exhaustion thing or whether he is struggling with stuff I can’t work out? And I wonder how deep it goes?

And if he will develop similar anxieties and fears as Harley and end up needing medication too? It’s all too much to get my head around.

Not to mention the friendships and relationship stuff that everybody has. Marriage is so damn hard at the best of times and the pressure increases when you have children who need so much more from you than the average child. I worry that my well will run dry and there will be nothing left to give.

There are already areas of my life that I have checked out of prematurely. It’s just all too overwhelming at the moment and I’m getting tired of just treading water all the time so it’s become easier to do nothing rather than make the wrong decisions.

Maybe that’s a bad decision? I don’t know, but survival mode does interesting things to a person. This funk I’m in has brought some rather abstract poetry out of me so I guess it’s not all bad.

Like this:

Hurting head and aching heart,

Needing some reprieve,

Wanting guidance,

Desiring peace,

But don’t know where to start.

.

I close my eyes and lay my head,

Down on my folded arms,

Wanting rest,

Desiring release,

From all those things you said.

.

As days unfold and choices come,

I don’t know which ways up,

Wanting love,

Desiring grace,

Before I come undone.

.

Then night fall comes and brings with it,

More pain and hopelessness,

Wanting answers,

Desiring truth,

I can’t take another hit.

…

Share this:

A Mothers Love: Poem for my son.

The school bell rang and children rushed,

Toward their classroom doors,

I saw you pull your hat down firm,

And brace yourself – then pause.

.

And as you walked inside your room, 

I noticed you inhale,

Your hands you pulled into your sleeves,

Your face began to pale.

.

I saw you mutter to yourself,

And count your steps until, 

You noticed I was watching you,

Then stopped and stood dead still.

.

I think you’re brave , you push yourself,

Out of your comfort zone,

I see this and it makes me proud,

I know you’d rather stay home.

.

You think that you have got me fooled,

And that I’ve got no clue,

But I’m your Mum – I see your pain,

In most things that you do.

.

I know that when you pace and count,

You’re trying to pro-cess,

And when your brow is screwed up tight,

It means you’re getting stressed.

.

You sometimes find it hard to speak,

And tell me how you feel,

When you get home from school each day,

For you that pain is real!

.

I’ve come to learn that you express,

Emotions differently,

As either happiness or rage,

And nothing in between.

.

I need to show you other ways,

To let your feelings out,

There are better ways to show me these,

You needn’t scream and shout.

.

Just know son that no matter what,

I’ll love you with my all,

I’m here to guide you through these years,

And catch you if you fall.

Depression……

Tumbling, Jumbling,
Crowding out my brain,
So many memories,
They’re driving me insane,
.
Too much pain,
Too many thoughts,
Can’t process anything,
Out of good retorts,
.
Wishing, Hoping,
Willing them to cease,
Please leave me alone,
And give a girl some peace!
.
Need some space,
Need a real break,
All this crap is,
More than I can take,
.
Fumbling, Mumbling,
Wanting to be heard,
It all comes of as babble,
And makes me sound absurd,
.
So darn tired,
Want to go to sleep,
Wake me when it’s over please,
And leave me in this heap.

Step back in time

My Mum has decided to do a really big clean out in her house. Kind of like spring cleaning. But it’s winter.

Well….she calls it “downsizing so that there’s not so much for you and your sister to sort through when I die” but that’s far too morbid for my liking! So winter/spring cleaning it is

And last week while I was up there, she was clearing boxes out from under her stair case and she pulled out a dusty box full of all the school work that we brought home over the years!

I can’t believe she has kept it all!

Especially since I am the mother who throws out everything. I can’t stand piles of paper everywhere. School work doesn’t last long here.

{Although, having said that: I do keep the really special pieces of artwork that all my kids have done and have laminated them for posterity. So I’m not totally evil! }

I have had an absolute ball reading through all my old school books and I especially loved reading the poetry that I wrote when I was in grade 2. I had a whole book called “I can write stories” . CUTE!

I noticed that my love for writing poetry and writing in general must have started earlier than I remember and I laughed and laughed at the stories that my little 7 year old brain came up with!

Here is a poem/story that I wrote called: Scott’s Tortoise learnt to fly

(And here’s a little bit of behind the scenes info for you: Scott was my very first boyfriend. We were SO in love LOL)

…..
One day when I was out playing,
Suddenly I heard someone wailing,
I looked right up to the sky,
And then I saw a tortoise trying to fly,
And so I shouted loud to him,
“Come on, come on, and fly to that limb”
I climbed up that limb and got him down,
And ran with him right out of town.
…..

Hilarious!

Wonder what else I’ll come across

Unsent letter

To the person who has hurt us,

You do know who you are,

I want to tell you here- right now,

That you have gone too far.

.

I want to let you know that we,

Still love you just the same,

But it hurts me when you judge our ways,

And give me all the blame

.

You know my life is not like yours,

And it will never be,

I do the best with what I have,

So please don’t bad mouth me

.

My children know that they come first,

And have my full attention,

So forgive me now, if you’ve to wait,

And I am not perfection

.

I feel that you just inward look,

And make it all about you,

But in THIS house, we’re not that way,

You never seem to approve

.

I’m sorry if you feel that I,

Have been a dreadful pain,

I have no time for childish rants,

It’s puts me off my game

.

My days are filled with ASDs

And everything that includes,

So give me grace when I am not,

Always in the happiest moods

.

I’m sorry that I sometimes get,

All tense and non compliant,

But all this stress has turned my woes,

Into a towering giant.

.

I’ve never claimed to be immune,

To snapping under pressure,

But bringing up the past to us,

Just brings us such displeasure.

.

So instead of focusing on yourself,

Why not offer to shoulder our burden,

And walk a mile in different shoes,

Before just spurting your poison.

.

I work so hard but still you want,

To criticize me and complain,

You won’t believe in ASDs

So it’s always just the same…

.

I’ve tried to tell you all I can,

But you don’t want to listen,

So saying that I am “not right”

Has been your latest mission

.

If I’m “not right” then why do I,

Do most of this myself?

And manage to raise gorgeous kids,

With barely any help?

.

The things that you’ve complained about,

Weren’t done to tick you off,

My heart was right, and full of love,

But now….I’ve had enough

.

I can’t go on pretending that,

Everything is now okay,

I’ve tried my best – but it’s not enough,

I’ve nothing left to say

.

I truly hope that you get to,

The place where you find peace,

I pray that God will bless you lots,

And that this tension now will cease…..

Distillation in verse.

It’s ok peoples

You don’t need to worry about me….I’m not in a terribly bad place….well not exactly a great place either, but it’s nothing to be concerned about.

I was in a bad (ish) place earlier on but I have worked through a lot of the ‘stuff’ and ‘nonsense’ and some of it has been dealt with.

Some of it

I’m just attempting to clear my head of the thousands of crazy, ridiculous,persistent and nagging thoughts relating to certain circumstances that have plagued us as a family lately, and for me personally – I find that using the medium of poetry is particularly cathartic.

Head is spinning,

Eyes are sore,

Tired of crying,

I can’t take any more.

.

Questions looping,

Answers not there,

Frustrated, angry,

Not wanting to care.

.

Desiring, needing,

Wanting some peace,

Anger is building,

It needs to be released.

.

Tired of fighting,

Nothing seems to work,

Wanting to escape,

But this ire still lurks.

.

Praying, pleading,

Wanting to be free,

Crying and hurting,

This really isn’t me.

.

Sleepy, weepy,

Knowing this will pass,

But not wanting to wait for it,

Is that too much to ask?

Tossing out the pebbles.

Decisions are like skimming rocks upon a glistening lake,

Some glide while others plummet and then sink,

I make my plans and polish the stones to see if I can make,

My choices win and not end up in the drink.

~

I’m asking lots of questions but the answer does not come,

Solutions wave and mock me from afar,

I feel my strength unraveling; I’m slowly being undone,

I wonder if it has to be this hard?

~

The answers are in reach although I don’t know where to start,

I question if I really know my stuff?

My priorities are ordered and I know them all by heart,

But I doubt that they will ever be enough.

~

If I could figure out just what my next few moves should be,

And make my brain relax and take a break,

I know then that I’d understand and be able to see,

In front of me and just what is at stake.

~

I need to learn to lay things down and not let them control,

My every waking thought until I crack,

But I’m the kind that feels all things with heart as well as soul,

And know that there’s no room for turning back.

~

I know that once I stop and rest: The answer will hunt ME down,

But that requires me to let things be,

And that’s much easier said than done – I feel like I could drown,

But I have to or I’ll never again be free.

Another side of me.

Hello beautiful readers.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I’ve decided that it’s time to reveal a bit more of myself. No – I’m not going to start stripping my clothes off!

But I am going to publish the link to my “other” blog.

I have been writing this other blog since last October and originally the link was only given to a handful of close friends but now I’ve decided that I’m ok about being more public.

I’ve made no secret of the fact that I am a Christian on this blog but the purpose of Wonderfully Wired has never been to be used as a preaching platform. It’s main focus will still remain on the ups and downs of raising children on the autistic spectrum and my other blog “Being Still and Listening” is for me to write about my walk with Christ.  It mostly consists of poetry and letters and isn’t updated as frequently as this one is.

I hope to see you there!

http://www.stilltohear.wordpress.com.au or you can simply click –> HERE <–

Fi xx

The post with no name ….

Tonight, I had every intention of writing a post detailing the jaw dropping coincidence that had me sitting on a country link train seated right next to my High school English teacher and the 8 hours we spent chatting and she critiqued my blog! Eeek!

But, it’s now coming up to 11pm and I have just returned from a dash to the hospital with Harley with suspected appendicitis , only to return home with him struck down with vomiting and diarrhoea *sigh*

He is now thankfully peacefully asleep in bed with me whilst I type this and consequently I am too knackered to elaborate any further.

So the post will have to wait until tomorrow when I can put some proper time and care into it!

I’ll leave you all with this thought though : Nothing says ‘I love you” more than willingly sleeping next to your child who breathes vomit infused breath on you every time he exhales!

Hehehe…