Hoochiemumma

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Tag: lessons learned

Oi Bludger

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I saw this posted on Facebook recently and it got me thinking about how I feel about it. I don’t know the author but it’s been shared a bunch of times and clearly people have strong feelings about it.

My views on things have definitely changed as I’ve gotten older. I’ve learnt that there are a lot more “grey” answers than “black and white” ones, especially when dealing with humans. At the same time, “I get it”. I’m not as passionately angry about it as this dude, but “I get it”. I don’t like my tax paying money going towards “bludgers” either.

Mind you, who is this guy anyway to categorise and determine “bludger” status?

Is he the President of the Bludger Society?

Like most of us I’ve been guilty of making judgement calls only to discover later that what I saw from the outside wasn’t the reality. I remember wondering why the lady who seems totally fine doesn’t have a job or even volunteer? I later discovered that she has a serious mental illness that she doesn’t have displayed on her forehead for everyone to see. Just getting her kids ready for school while ignoring the auditory hallucinations would be a task in itself. For those who wouldn’t know that, I rekon she would be seen as a “bludger”.

I accept that in the world in which we live there are arseholes. People can simply be arseholes. Does it mean we (as a society) have to be arseholes too? I don’t think so.

Thankfully we have developed into a civilised society where we no longer behead people or burn them at the stake for being less than an ideal human. We instead house them in jails and provide them a basic living wage to survive. It’s says more about us than them.

This doesn’t take away from the fact that people have to take personal responsibility for their lives and there will always be the whingers of the world who can’t get out of their own way.

If there’s one thing I can guarantee the people who feel ripped off by those who have been on long term unemployment benefits is that they’re not living on easy street. They’ll probably never go on an overseas holiday, they’ll never have status in their community; they’ll probably never own a home let alone one in a decent suburb and they’ll have to drive a bomb of a car that breaks down regularly. They won’t be able to buy their kids the gifts they want at Christmas time and they’ll second guess calling an ambulance because they don’t have cover. And just for good measure, they will be reminded of their status within their community on a regular basis. Don’t worry, most feel shit about themselves even if it appears from the outside they are kicking back without a care in the world. Reminder: Defensive behaviour is people trying to protect themselves.

However, I agree that people should be trying to do “something” to work their way towards employment, self improvement or being an active member of the community.

It’s not so much the problem at hand I disagree with but the solutions suggested.

This is a nuanced problem which needs a nuanced response.

Sentences like…

“Don’t earn enough money? Get another job” or “educate yourself” is as helpful as telling a person with depression to “just smile”.

It can end up being a perpetual self feeding problem. Without a leg up to get a leg out a lot of people can find themselves trapped inside the mouse wheel.

Plus, the idea of passing a drug test to get benefits is ludicrous. The argument above indicates that he thinks the majority of people on unemployment benefits are using drugs, so let’s cost that out shall we? The money saved from “catching” the drug users on Centrelink would surely negate the cost it would incur to test them all.

And if that rule came into play, who would do the testing? Centrelink personnel? Employment consultants? (umm. No thanks)

Would all people receiving unemployment benefits have to make a doctor’s appt every fortnight and take away appointment times from sick people? What about those on disability pensions or aged care pensions who are drug dependent.. do we cut them off too? Or is it ok for them to use tax payers money for their drug of choice but not for the unemployed. Maybe drug testing is only for the ones that are in the “bludger” category, not the ones who are just “normal” unemployed people. *Refer to the Bludger Society President above.

If their payment is cut off what would they have to do to get it back again?

Do they have to do another test in a couple days and they’re good to go?

What about people who will continually fail to pass these tests because they’re addicts? What then? Where do they go? (Besides the obvious-rehab where it’s often more than one attempt to be on the road to recovery). Under this rule they would have no money to pay their rent or buy food. What would you do if you had no money to pay rent and buy food?

Logic says some people would turn to crime and we would see the crime rate rise. In turn, this would put extra pressure on the legal system as well as having more people with a criminal conviction which would make it even harder to get employment . People could become homeless and displaced (another negative for employment). To top it off their children could end up being taken away into foster care, a system which is already struggling. So all in all it could mean that the cost for the taxpayer would increase.

So what’s the answer? I don’t bloody know… I write a blog for a hobby for God’s sake, what would I know?

What I do know is that a punitive response isn’t always the best way. And just as a side note, if you think it’s only “bludgers” who take drugs, think again my friends. It’s rife and apparently quite cool to snort a bit of Charlie on the weekend by apparently “well respected community people”.

There are a million different reasons which need a million different solutions to this complex social issue. The problems I can see include a struggling health system, drug culture, housing affordability, education, generational unemployment, parenting skills, the increase in mental health issues. The answer is not as simple as “get a job”. I wish it was.

In my confusion and internal debate about where I sit with this, I have come to the conclusion that I simply feel empathy for arseholes too, and I’m not sad about that. After all, I doubt the homeless guy I slipped a fiver to the other day dreamt as a little boy that he would be sitting outside of a shopping centre begging for money. He probably wanted to be a Fireman or a AFL footballer.

I’m not religious, but “there for grace of God go I”.

M

A case of gastro and mother love.

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I’m sitting on our couch on Sunday night, which is now the early hours of Monday morning. I’m watching my little boy sleep, in between hurling his ringer up and wriggling around with the pain that comes with gastro. I’m poised with a bucket, tissues, Powerade, Spray & Wipe and hand gel. I’m contemplating a hazmat suit.

It’s gonna be a long night.

I apologise in advance for the fact that Mr Spewmanti was at basketball, two birthday parties and bingo over the weekend. He likes to get around. 🥴

I read a quote once that said having a child means you now watch your heart walk around outside of your body.

It’s corny but true.

In between wiping up spew and rubbing Elliot’s forehead, I’m reminded of all the women I know who are riding or have ridden the wave of motherhood when mothering is brutal, and I’m not talking about a sleepless night with a case of gastro.

Brutal is when your heart can be tearing apart and you wonder how the hell you’re going to get through what lies ahead. Somehow we muster up a kind of “super mother power”. We’re like Wonder Woman spinning into all of her glory while we chant “we ain’t got no time for that shit.”

Tonight I’m thinking of my beautiful friend who is currently sitting a bedside vigil in ICU with her son who was in a horrific car accident.

Tonight I’m thinking of a local mum who is preparing a memorial service for her son who was tragically taken in an accident on the way home from school.

Tonight I’m thinking of the mums I know whose children have been diagnosed with chronic illness.

Tonight I’m thinking of a friend whose teenager is trying to find himself and his identity.

Tonight I’m thinking of the mums I know who have lost children to cancer and the mum who has only recently found out.

Tonight I’m thinking of a friend who helped her child navigate his way through addiction.

Tonight I’m thinking of another whose child has been diagnosed with Autism.

Tonight I’m thinking of the mum whose daughter cries herself to sleep because she doesn’t think her body is the right shape.

I’m also thinking of the mums who are just having a crappy time for no other reason than that life can just suck giant turds sometimes.

Motherhood isn’t for the faint hearted. It also takes a tribe to keep us sane.

I’m lucky to have a circle of amazing women in my world. They’re the ones who have lifted me up when things in my world get a little sketchy. They check in, send a message, call for a quick chat that turns into hours of world problem solving. They lend a hand, make me laugh and have my back. They’re real, they’re raw and they don’t pretend to be anything but who they are. They’re all fabulous for many different reasons. They accept me and my foibles and teach me a lot.

So to all of the mums out there who are catching spew in buckets, researching teen behaviour, driving kids to appointments, wiping away tears, sitting by a hospital bed praying or simply managing to get the kids off to school on time without losing your mind….

You’re amazing.

Mums are incredible.

Don’t let anyone tell you anything else.

Disclaimer *Yes, dads are incredible too, but this blog is called Hoochiemumma not Hoochiepapa 😉.

M

D-Day

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Tomorrow is D DAY. Its a fundraiser for the Cure4CF Foundation. Yes, I’m at it again…. Yes, it’s probably annoying. I know how I feel when I see people over share the same thing. I eye-roll a bit and think “yeah yeah we get it”.

When you’re on the other side though, and there is a cause that you’re passionate about, especially one that involves your child, there seems to be motivation to be annoying and speak out.

Sometimes sharing too much can come across as attention-seeking perhaps? I have always struggled with this balance. There are plenty of people out there branding their existence with having a child with an illness. Usually, these people are giant pains in the arses and sometimes their kids are too.

I would give anything to not have this as a topic to write about. But here are.

We all have struggles through, a hurdle, or some kind of challenge that life throws at us. Every one of us. I’m sure you’re thinking of yours right now. When I think of my family and friends I can easily identify something going on in their lives that is, or has been stressful, hard, or sad. It’s called life I suppose.

Most often, struggles have some kind of silver lining. One of the positive things that having a child with a chronic illness has brought me, is being able to put things into perspective. It’s really easy to get hung up on the small stuff and I certainly do my fair share of that at times. Like this afternoon when Scarlett dobbed on Elliot for being a bit of a dick on the bus.

Did I speak to him about it.. yes.

Did he deny that he did anything wrong…of course.

Did he run away to his room while I was mid sentence, yelling “you just don’t get it mum, stop going on about it”… yes.

Did I see red and turn into psycho Sally and tell him that I will ban him from the bus myself and also used the “f” word twice in one sentence. Also yes.

So OK, sometimes I do sweat the small stuff.

Anyway… I digress.

I have often wondered what kind of parent I would have been if not for the experience of having Macauley. I have also wondered how different he would be too. Those early years were tough and I was fairly intense and controlling when it came to trying to keep him well. It was the only coping mechanism I had to make it feel like I had some kind of handle over something so uncontrollable. I was pretty much kidding myself, but it made me feel better at the time. Because his health was my number one priority, everything else kind of took a back seat and priorities shifted a little. I think I definitely had it in me to be competitive and compare. What a joy sucker that is. (Just a tip for new mums too….you soon forget the age they start crawling, or if they walked before they were one. Plus, once you have more than two kids you get them all mixed up and refer to those early years as “well one of you stated walking a bit late… I dunno which one of you it was now?”)

So by the time he turned 5 and started school, I didn’t really care that he couldn’t hold a pencil and write his name yet. Was he meant to? Besides sending me bat shit crazy, I didn’t worry too much that he was stuck on level 3 reader for what seemed a 100 months of Sunday’s. And who knew that being able to tie a shoelace by a certain age was a milestone to be aiming for? Just buy the velcro shoes people. They’ll get it one day. All of these things are important to a certain degree, but I kept thinking how lucky we were that he was at school, that he was born in the new millennium. If he were living in the 60’s I could have well been preparing his funeral, not his first day of school.

Which brings me to my point of being an over sharer. It’s due to people making more noise and fighting for funding and raising awareness that has led to some amazing medicines and research being done in science land. Sure, big pharma is probably all the horrible things that people say it is….to what degree I wouldn’t know. All I know is that without “Big Pharma” my big kid wouldn’t be here. As evil and horrible as people make them out to be, big pharma develop and provide my child with medication he literally cannot live without.

Organisations like Cure4CF Foundation raise money to provide funds for exciting developments and research focused on a CURE. I see it like a giant jigsaw puzzle where all of the new bits of research from around the world get tacked onto the older bits and are pieced together to solve the puzzle. I am hopeful that the puzzle of CF will be solved so that Macauley and many others can breathe a little easier.

Literally.

M

PS….As always, if you can give, please do or simply share to make aware. 🌹

 

 

Random Ramblings.

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I’ve been a bit quiet on the blogging front. Seems the lady of leisure has not been leisuring. I know. Shock horror! Sometimes the best-laid plans don’t work.


So here is a list of random thoughts and questions as well as a few nuggets of wisdom that I’ve been reminded about or learnt about recently.

1. Firstly, to help you all feel like you’re not the only one slowly going insane, I spent 10 minutes hunting for my sunglasses that were on top of my head. I seriously contemplated a lay down because I am in genuine fear that I may in fact, be losing my sanity.

2. Question: Have I been going IN the outlane and OUT the inlane at our local supermarket? There are no arrows, but I sometimes get the stink eye from some very annoyed large car drivers. Is there an unwritten rule? Advice and debate freely accepted.

3. Organising a get together with like-minded supportive women is the most fabulous therapy ever. Having an agenda is even better!

4. People don’t always have your best interest at heart and simply have nothing better to do than fish for gossip. These people are joy-suckers. Avoid them like the Rona.

5. It’s OK to disappoint someone else before yourself, so saying “no” is necessary as well as refreshing.

6. Doing the hardest thing on the to-do list first thing in the morning makes the day so much brighter. I need to do this more often.

7. Someone gave me a solid and simple piece of advice and let me tell you, it lifted a weight from my shoulders and has helped me jump a hurdle I had made for myself in my own head. Which leads to…..

8. Procrastination isn’t laziness. I spotted this today and yup.. mind blown. Yes yes and yes. I procrastinate a lot and generally… one of these is the reason.

9. Gin is nicer than I had thought it would be and if you have two of them, they make your legs relax. After three it may make your legs do more than just relax. Buyer beware.

10. My youngest child is willing to pay his older sister “a hundred bucks” so that she “won’t tell mum (he) was eating on the lounge” (new lounge… my kids are savages… NO EATING ON THE NEW LOUNGE).

11. Also… my youngest child doesn’t realise that I can hear him without seeing him.

12. Term 4 is always the worst term for parents of school aged children (and teachers too, I imagine). She may be a shorter term but she’s an intense bitch of a thing that needs Valium, with a possible back up of two leg relaxing gins.

13. Letting go of the need to “figure it all out yourself” is a good move. Surrendering to the fact that we all need help is a form of self care and not a weakness. This mantra needs to be repeated by stubborn tarts like myself on a weekly basis.

14. Question: Do conspiracy theorists just believe all of them or can you choose just one or two and go hard and fast. Like, can you believe that 5G is going to kill us all but vaccines are OK, or is it all or nothing? Also when is Pete Evans going to disappear into his own arse and STFU.

15. Everyone should watch Dr David Attenborough’s “A Life On Our Planet”. Everyone. It should be made compulsory viewing in schools. It will either confirm your ethos or challenge the ideas about the way in which you live. It will remind you of our role within a much bigger picture. Either way, it will bring tears. Tissues required.

16. Final question: why is it that going to bed earlier doesn’t make me more pleasant in the morning? Why? A question I’m sure my family would like answered.


On that note… Goodnight!


Until next time.


M

Operation Secret iPod Confiscation – The jig is up.

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For the punters playing along at home….

The cat  is out of the bag.

The can of worms has popped.

The beans have been spilled.

The game has been given away.

Mr. Hooch couldn’t help himself. Damn him.

Let’s just say there’ll be some more literary pursuits occurring in the top bedroom.

Operation Secret iPod Confiscation has officially concluded.

The results are hazy.

(If you have no idea what I’m talking about.. head on back to the last post “Liar Liar Pant on Fire”).

I’m sure when she is 25 years old and I give her the iPod back, she will appreciate the life lessons I am trying to instill. Yeah, that’s right, TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OLD…. I actually said that. It’s OK though because, by the time I got to that part of my monologue, I’m pretty sure her eyes were rolled so far back into her head it had turned off her ability to hear.

While I was imparting my wisdom upon the pony-tail wearer, there was a little 7 year old loving the absolute shit out of seeing his sister getting ripped a new butt-hole. It wasn’t ripping actually….more like a carefully planned surgical incision. He had a surgical butt-hole procedure only last week, so he was simultaneously tender and gleeful as he watched on with eyes as big as saucers.

As our daughter made her way back to her room, with her new butt-hole, to spend some time “reflecting”, or possibly making a voodoo doll with red curly hair, I wondered if my stealth operation had any more value than pure entertainment for myself. This parenting gig is hard, and I’m lucky because my kids are pretty awesome kids. I have probably made Miss iPod sound like a right little turd, but she’s not. She is the bees knees and despite my rant, I, of course, adore her. She is kind, smart, clever and reliable. She is thoughtful and caring. But she’s also a kid, learning her way through childhood at the same time we are learning our way through parenthood. How’s that for twisted irony? I am the first one to stick my hand up and recognise that I stuff this job up all the time. If I had a boss, I’d be on a permanent Performance Management Plan, mainly for inappropriate language I suspect.

I hope something gets through to them when I launch my monologues of wisdom. I hope some kind of lesson was learned, or re-learned. I hope for so many things for our children.

Mainly, I hope they don’t turn out to be raging morons.

I hope they turn out to be good eggs – honest, kind and thoughtful.

I hope they know their worth.

I hope they live a life of purpose and meaning.

I hope they have back-bones and speak their truth.

I hope they find happiness.

The list is endless.

But mostly, I hope they know they are loved, because, without that, nothing else matters.

M