I feel sometimes that all I seem to do when I purge my brain out loud is lament how hard everything is.
How bad it all seems.
How hard I find it navigating this weird widowing landscape.
The thing is, it is hard.
Fucking hard some days.
And lots of days I still look like this:
And this:
But there is still some not bad and not hard stuff.
Sometimes I need to remind myself that there's good stuff underneath the hard stuff. In fact, sometimes its so smack in front of my face, I forget to enjoy it because so often even the good stuff comes shrouded with, or weighed down by, an element of hard grief stuff to deal with.
So, in an attempt to remind myself to enjoy the things here are the things that have been fun recently:
The cat turned 2
Albert/Bertie was Pete's choice of cat and he never to meet the feline he had bragged so much about getting.
He is as impressive and loved and full of character and everything that we wanted and needed him to be.
On his birthday we went to the Pet Food Shop and bought him treats and a present he seemed to enjoy even through the design of this toy doesn't take into account the size of a Maine Coon's foot - he has got his foot stuck in the holes numerous times.
Pip created a birthday cake - resplendent with dried fish, freeze dried chicken hearts and liver-flavoured beef mince.
We went away
We had an escape with friends and despite basically all of us losing the plot at some point driving into and staying in Bendigo thanks to the highly emotional memories we have of the place ... we had so many laughs, and so much fun.
Let's not mention that 7 families with 17 children between us might NOT have been what slightly relaxed restrictions on regional travel was meant to allow, but we were all in a caravan park in separate accommodation which had restricted density limits...
The restrictions easing in regional Victoria also meant that we could go OUT for breakfast and actually sit down in a cafe and remove our masks and enjoy what we all took for granted pre-covid - a social outing.
Other things not to mention were the fact when the Dads were left in charge so the mothers could breakfast together that meant another emotional meltdown because 'everyone else has a Dad and we don't'; or the fact walking up the very steep hill and then 10 flights of stairs up a mining tower reiterated JUST how many covid kilo's I've added (I took the kids and I to Cold Rock ice creamery to console myself ... I added sour worm, nerds and gummy bears because if I’m going to do it, I might as well do it properly.)
We saw my parents for the first time since July 5
The border restrictions between NSW and Victoria since July have meant that despite my trials and struggles down here, my parents haven't been able to get down here to help, or me get up there for some time out.
The covid restrictions have also meant that despite my trying, I haven't been able to find a way to ease the pressure in my house. But that's a whole other story ... tutor finding and renting a grandparent during times of covid is WAY hard.
Again, thanks to easing of restrictions, we got to sit down and have a meal with my parents for the first time in almost 4 months - pre-covid and post-Pete dying they had committed to monthly or six-weekly visits to us and stuck by that commitment.
It was, again, another reminder of what we had all taken for granted pre-covid, or at least pre-border closure, that we could catch up whenever and wherever we wanted to.
It also showed just how much the children have grown - with both the girls now surpassing my mother's height and Molly is closing in on my dad ... even if he spent a fair bit of time sucking in his stomach and lifting his chin in a vain attempt to make himself taller for the photos.
We survived remote schooling 2.0
Remote schooling has absolute horns on it.
And that's even with being entirely grateful that the secondary school the big girls attend allowed me to send them each day to study in the library.
It seemed to give the girls some routine which was seriously lacking in our house and it did ease the burden on our house, which was a positive.
It didn't change the fact a lot of stuff had to be done at home ... which didn't ... like a Rube Goldberg machine - the creation of a machine that completely over complicates a simple task - which might be still 1/2 made sitting on the dining room table.
Although everyone being home did allow for team effort work on primary school projects.
On the last Saturday of term, the statement: I'm meant to have a 2 minute speech, a poster and a diorama of an emergency service done by Monday! was screamed at me as the reason behind the emotional melt down happening in the loungeroom; Team Mecham went into action.
Big sisters, it turns out, are excellent at assisting with online speech research and creating figurines for dioramas, and little sisters can stay in the lines when asked to colour in posters ...
Let us not discuss the fact the emergency service he chose was Ambulance and Goolging the vehicle design of an ambulance was seriously triggering all on its own ... and the fact mothers are apparently just good for buying stuff.
The dogs turn 1 and 2
This time of year also heralds the other animals having anniversaries of birth.
The dogs and I spend a bit of time together these days.
While the kids love them, getting the kids to walk them is an entirely different battle that I choose to enter into, and just walk away from, depending on the day I'm having.
So it has to be said that I do a lot of the dog walking. And I'm not great at keeping routine or regularity to that (but I'm trying!!).
Though I have learned that for the most part it is an enjoyable part of the day - and we have moved from having dogs that just take off and don't return unless they feel like it, to dogs that know their names - they are quite nice company to have on good and bad days when we are walking.
Let's not mention here that this week's dramas have included them destroying Pete's headphones being absolute twits when seeing another dog in the park and slipping collars. It was a long day, I cried, and I called the dogs stupid bloody idiots, out loud through angry/tired/emotional tears. Because I was totally being an adult about it all.
Murphy appeared 8 days before Pete died so he has been a constant through all of this, and Rocket came to ease the burden of the first anniversary and we really do love them and they will receive cakes made of questionable ingredients on their respective birthdays and toys ... which will likely just be another experiment in the "let's see how long it takes Murph to get the squeaker out of this one...' game. In the last 2 years, no squeaking toy has beaten him and no squeaker has stayed in a toy for longer than 2 hours after purchase.
Sport is back
Our lives have always been filled with sporting commitments. We love a bit of team and individual sport in our household. We are big believers in it being a great way to being part of a community.
Covid stopped it all. And while there has to be something positive said about the fact I wasn't racing around all of the time exhauating myself trying to be in all the different places on all the different days for pick ups and drop offs, since sport has resumed, I've had the realisation of how much I relied on sport for the social contact with people.
Kids sport allows parents to catch up on the sidelines and be part of one another's lives again. Social media is great - but being able to stand/sit and speak to someone in person - gosh I've missed that.
People are still fucking amazing to us
It cannot go without saying that in spite of Covid my villagers continue to absolutely amazingly amazing.
One of my villagers cooked us a two course meal every week for Term 3 quite simply because ’remote schooling sucks and so does doing it on your own’. Other villagers appeared with wine and flowers and coffee and food because they all sat at home and thought how shit it was for them, then realised I was doing it without a husband to vent to. When we were allowed, we immediately re-instigated family dinners with others.
My villagers: They are amazing.
Let’s not mention one of the lead villagers and surrogate husbands are leaving town and the kids and I have cried for hours over it. We shall make them feel so loved before they go. Because they have made us feel so loved.
And let’s also not mention the fact they are already lining up to get me sorted for the house move because they can see me avoiding committing to it, the sorting required, and the decision making around it, like the plague ... so they are just going to take control of it, and me.
So within the torturous and tumultuous world that we find ourselves in, and with so many days in the last couple of weeks that have had me quite beside myself and saying "oh come ON already, cut me some slack!!" there have been good bits.
And I need to remember that.
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