my sister pam had a baby on 10 september.

this has been a huge event in my life. a few months ago i was shopping "pink" for this bump we already were calling alex, and i was rooting through books my kids loved and sending them to alex for her library. handing over the sticky annabel karmel cookbook that had served us so well and served up so many recipes.

this summer, pam was very generous in letting the kids put their hands over her (small) tummy and any time alex was twitching around she would alert my mum to come have a feel. pam was a stellar pregnant person. so good at it that her body only reluctantly gave birth, overdue and with much assistance from the doctor!

my niece. alexandra helen patricia.

friends asked me how it feels to be an aunt, and i tell them, "very frustrating!"

my mum was in edmonton with pam, bobb and alex this weekend. where was i? here (the 35 above degree sun was a consolation, but still.)

i should be there washing dishes, floors, doing laundry and sorting closets. things i am good at doing when there is a fresh baby in the house. helping keep order. i can also make and freeze meals. i will never forget the difference it made to me after seb was born and my friend jane came to our flat and organised my kitchen, laundry and life all during the time it took me to change my clothes and take a shower.

i want to be holding this little person. whispering little secrets to her and promises of how i am going to spoil her (proof is already in the ridiculous amounts of things i have bought her!) i want to see her with the sated with milk look in her eyes and watch her drift off. but most of all, i want to see my sister, transformed, softened, clutched and captured by motherhood.

knowing someone for as long as i have known my sister (and i think if i am ever allowed to hold this baby i won't go into details as to how old she is!) you observe their stages. as life, choices and personal values alter them. paths. and then for some, parenthood.  having such a naked vulnerable love is a terrible thing. if you're like me, you try to shield the love with joking nonchalance.  so it doesn't seem like you're in too deep.

i wonder how she is. if at times she looks at alex, and knows these first few weeks are in so many ways the easiest. how often, despite the fact she's gagging with tiredness does she just stand and watch alex sleep amazed that she helped create something so wonderful? how often does she wonder how nine days have passed and get scared that it is all happening so quickly.

i wonder how she is.

i wish i knew.

for me, being an aunt isnt so much about seeing the baby and holding the baby nd searching for genetic similarities, rather looking at my sister and seeing what love has done to her, and smiling for her, as i watch her prepare to slide down this overwhelming world of loving a child.

happy but unsurprised to report that yesterday was a lovely day!

a highlight for sebastian….i was waiting after school to pick them all up and he ran across the play area looking quite pleased with himself.
mummy close your eyes!
he was so excited i let the lack of please slide.
when i was allowed to open, i did, and saw that prominently displayed on his suspiciously puffed out chest was, a "kennedy star". KS's are large purple stickers with the words kennedy school on them and they are given quite sparingly. to get one is quite an honour. sebastian received his star because "one of the girls didn't want to push in her chair and didn't but i did and the teacher saw and i got the star because i was being helpful and i was sensible and quiet when i did it. i just sensibly and quietly pushed in the chair

my little kennedy star.

speaking of star..how do i go about downloading "VIDEO KILLED THE RADIO STAR" to my ipod? i started running to that song this summer, courtesty of sister pam, and it was a valuable addition. a great song that always makes me happy and energised.

yes…overall, a very great day!

i amended part of yesterday's post on patrick swayze. by saying that PS had qualities that seem hard to come by in the acting world, i didn't give credit to alot of fine actors who are STELLAR people. so i made the changes and hope i am forgiven. removed the gentle reminder not to make overgeneralisations!

secondly, i got a few emails on the topic. how could i say patrick swayze was blessed? didn't i know he and his wife suffered from infertility? actually, i was sort of aware of the fact, over the years it made the rounds on a few boards i frequent. but, the swayzes stayed together throughout their infertility, presented a united front, and from the little i know, based on his pubic behaviour and comments, seemed devoted to each other. so, the potentially all consuming scorpion of infertility did not wedge between them (apparently). infertility is a b!tch to live with, but they still had love. and anyone who has love is blessed.

jen, bbskwer, i get what you were saying, i appreciate what you were saying, can you see my perspective? they had each other. so i am keeping that part. peach had a valid point so i changed my behaviour and saw things through her nice eyes. yes they wanted more, but sometimes happiness isn't getting what you want, but wanting what you've got.

moving on.

i have not had a great day. in fact i would go so far as to say it has been very not great.

i woke up at 6.15 and within minutes the kids were awake as well. i took them all into the kitchen with me and poured them a six ounce glass of water and me a 16 ounce glass. we all drank and had a little competition to see who would finish last. (hint: his name begins with jasper and sela finished first.) it was looking good from there, but suddenly the "insta-whinge" that the water was so clearly full of took hold and the kids went insane with their obviously essential demands.

after breakfast, the demand was that sela's library book be located. sela was getting quite teary at the thought that her book might not be found and was full of adverbs as she described how miss chainani would be very angry. miss chainani? what about mummy??? 

then carys, who has lost two hats already this term announced she did not like hat number three.  if she had lost three plastic lunch containers, i would be giving her lunch in old margarine tubs by now. however, with the fricking sun still belting down 35 degree heat she needs a hat. so i bought her a cool new aussie outback hat and she declared she didn't like the wide brim. (!!)

and about then i heard a little snap and realised that either it was a blood vessel, cord in my neck or, of course, the handle falling off the door. it was the doorknob, of course. sebastian was holding it. i had instructed him seconds earlier not to pull the doorknob and while he was not pulling the doorknob not even to think that he could push jasper outside. both instructiosn were cheerfully disobeyed. another crisis.

"too bad you are not going to gymnastics this afternoon" i snapped at carys. i am not sure why i said this, possibly to upset her because she had upset me? do you see the level i was operating on? this bad low level???

mummy, pleaded sela, you have to give her another chance! you also have to find my library book!
(had to get that in there, didn't she).

i grabbed the doorknob from sebastian, asked him if i had mentioned anything about the door handle and if he would care to repeat it. he mumbled something about not opening the door. meanwhile, jasper is bashing the door (he's on the other side, remember) and now ringing the doorbell because he is sure we have packed and moved in the time he has been outside. why else would no one let him in??? he starts crying.

OPEN THE DOOR JASPER i instruct
please let me in mummy! he cries
OPEN THE DOOR YOURSELF, I CANT!
he opens the door and comes running to me, rubbing his teary face against my white shirt. i thougbt you didn't love me!

jasper, sela carys (because shes not going to gymnastics incase you have forgotten) and sebastian are now crying.

i found the library book by 10am (under her pillow) and of course made a special trip into school so she could get a new library book. disrupted the whole class be coming in…i hate being a PITAparent. i stopped to sort out the lost n found box at school, (odd stuff collects in there) and then stuff that was labelled i put in kids backpacks. as i was popping a hat into danielle's bag i spotted carys' substitute teacher. he asked which child was mine and i said carys. and then he said, "she needs to practise her writing." yes she does and i am trying…. he was being very kind, but it was just one more thing.

at the end of the school day i spotted carys barrelling towards me grinning and arms pumping backpack bobbing up and down hat #3 goodness knows where, and she gave me a massive cuddle. before she could even ask, i said, "you ready for gymnastics?" and she nodded. the earlier hassle of the morning forgotten, her hurt maybe gone, my sense of failure still hanging over me as i hung on.

i know tomorrow will be better which is why i am going to bed NOW.

patrick swayze, addictions and other stuff

i didn't post when michael jackson died.
but this morning, when i read that patrick swayze had passed away, i did want to blog a bit.

i liked and respected patrick swayze.

here's why:

1) he was married to the same woman for 34 years
2) even when his career was white hot, he managed to stay out of the press and live a discreet life.

whoopi goldberg, who seems content to call a spade a spade, only ever praised patrick swayze. some celebs only start "speaking nice" when a fellow celeb starts getting column inches, or gets sick. but throughout her career whoopi always maintained that patrick was a gentleman and a nice fellow and a great person. those seem like rather bland descriptions and shouldn't we be focusing on his acting, but those are such sterling qualities i think we should pause on them. it's easy to find something nasty to say about someone, whether you have to dig back to high school to find those people…but no one came out of the woodwork with a tale that "stuck" about patrick swayze.

in recent months, as swayze was photographed looking increasingly thinner and as he admitted to barbara walters in 2009 that realistically, two years was the best he could hope for, he was also occasionally photographed smoking. and criticised for it. how could a man with cancer smoke. doesn't he know what he is doing to himself?

do you think that if patrick swayze could have stopped smoking he would have? i do. but i know addictions. i have loved ones with addictions and the logic…"this is bad for me…this is speeding up my mortality" isn't enough to get you to simply flick away the cigarette, walk away from the needle, whatever your vice may be. seeing swayze with that smoke reminded me how human he really was.

and like all humans, he needed love. unlike all humans, he was lucky enough to find it. 34 years of marriage, by all accounts a happy one, to one woman – lisa niemi. cancer is a sad way for a life to end, but i would say patrick swayze, with his reputation for kindness and integrity, the love that he experienced while here on earth, the successful career that he enjoyed in hollywood and the peaceful ranching life he enjoyed away from it, was a blessed man. and he knew it. go in peace.

last weekend charles and i roamed around bangkok. it was time for our annual health checkups and i am happy to say that we are in fine rude health, although i have a few obscure symptoms like:

– hair loss

– normally shaped enlarged spleen

– low white blood cell count (but not wildly low)

but may i say my resting heart rate, blood pressure, cholesterol count, fats and eyesight were fantastic for a girl teetering towards her fourth decade.

it was a fantastic weekend. we walked and walked and walked. bangkok has a great and safe plethora of public transport options and we used three this weekend – taxis, tuk tuks and the mrt (subway/mtr). we had great meals and watched a cheesy movie although we drew the line and fell asleep at "JOHN RAMBO".

one interesting thing about the weekend, friday night after our plane landed we arrived at the hotel, dumped our stuff in the room and headed out for a walk. we were staying along the chao phrya river, and we are sort of familiar with that area of town. we walked to an area we have been before, grabbed some water for the next day and decided to get a massage at the aptly named BEST MASSAGE. we had been there before.

i had a fantastic foot massage. really great.

the next day we went back and charles had the two hour hot oil massage, while i opted for a facial and another foot massage.

that night, as we were settling down to watch the cheesy kevin bacon movie i casually said to charles, "i wonder if you had asked your masseur for sex if she would have gone along with it."

and charles did a bit of a double take and said, "she offered"

at the beginning of the massage, with me in the next room, charles' masseur had said to him, "you want massage?" and simultaneously touched his willy. he declined, and she responded, "i try!!!" and he said no, quite forcefully this time.

he berated himself as he was talking to me and said he should have left. but really, you start wondering, "did i hear what i thought i heard? did she mean what i thought she meant?"

how sad that that silly girl had to offer herself. how sad that she thought he was likely to say yes. how many others have said yes, even with wives in the next room.

we wont be going back, but i wasn't really upset. i was really sad for these girls though. when not waiting on a customer, they spend their time restlessly looking out windows. whether they are waiting for their white knight or just the mirage of another life or just something different from their everyday humdrum activities, i don't know. but it is very sad.

not sad enough to spoil my weekend. it was fantastic. highly recommended.

how long does it take to make a habit?

it is known and accepted that i am not a hard core runner. i wish i was. i could love to crave running. i like walking for the same reasons i always have, no matter what i weigh: being outdoors gives me the opportunity to appreciate the beauty around me, a little more leeway in case i decide to eat more, a great opportunity to pray, and solitude. (i also like walking with friends, and that provides opportunity for really good chats). in the last seven years i have appreciated walking and running because it gives me the opportunity to show my kiddies the importance of living healthfully. that you can have varying weights and still be fit.

heaps of my good friends are great runners. janne, susan and ursula are three examples. i wish i were like them. susan is out of the house every morning around 5.45. she has a toddler, a six year old and an eight year old! like janne, she enters herself in races, etc etc etc. i wish i had this burning desire. it would certainly make it easier to get out the door.

people have always promised "oh, once you get in the habit you'll get addicted. just get in the habit." so i did a little research on how long it takes to form a habit. apparently after three run ins with cocaine, it's a habit close to addiction. after three runs, i wasn't gasping for more, i was just gasping! same with flossing three times a day. after three flosses i wasn't convicted to keep going religiously.

some experts say 30 days is what is needed to ingrain a new habit, that whole same time thing is important too. if you are erasing a bad habit (like getting in the habit of not smoking) that takes longer because you have to convert your mind. but apparently repetition is the key. and you can't be lazy.

the cancer research uk health behaviour research centre said 66 days is most realistic.

depending on your personality it takes less than one week to break a GOOD habit.

this is quite depressing stuff!

i know it's all about one day at a time, and i actually don't see 9 weeks as a particularly long time, but what frosts my socks is the fact that you can break your carefully cultivated good habit in such a short period of time. we are sloths by nature, aren't we?

never will i roam? but i love roaming!

after seeing rod the bod (more like grasshopper!) in concert, i have had several of his tunes rolling through my head. in particular over these past two weeks as i have unpacked suitcases and gotten used to my new home and reflected on my summer in canada and the loved ones we saw there, i think of

RIVER OF MY HEART
oh the river of my heart is beating like a drum
with the words i love you rolling from my tongue
never will i roam for i know my place is home
where the ocean meets the sky i'll be sailing

now my inlaws are probably and rightfully laughing at the concept of me sailing, so let's skip that last line and let them have the last laugh. (tess = not talented at group sailing).

as i have moved from room to room (always with arms full) i have sang this song repeatedly. i sing the bit about "i love you" to my kids, and i sing the bit about my heart "beating like a drum" to myself when i am out on the hills. as i unpack, i sing, "never will i roam, for i know my place is home". and then i always stop. not because i don't want my relatives to laugh at me (and they probably wouldn't), but because after a summer in canada both charles and i find ourselves predictably, saying, "where is home?"

we know the answer of course. home is here. with the snakes. the wetmarkets. the kids! in 4d.

but right now, it seems so far away. separate from relatives, who in general live close together. and then there's us. it isn't much consolation that our parents moved away from their parents. we know they get it. this is home. both countries make my eyes water and my lips curve upwards. both countries make me shake my head with frustration. but for now, this is home.

listening to the rest of the song, i realise it isn't about nationality. (rod stewart himself lives most of the year in the states.) he describes a girl he remembers, and he describes a person basically living in a void. so this song is about people. if the river of my heart is geographically far away from the people i love (and not so far away from many others i do love!) then i know who they are, and they still know me. i can still call them, from any room, from any street, and i will know home.

jasper caldwell stars in – “NIGHT RIDER”

jasper has this less than charming habit of waking up several times during the night.

sometimes, he justifies his open eyes and walking legs with his age old excuse, "i had a nightmare that swiper was trying to kill me". however, one touch of his chest reveals his heart isnt pounding madly, which makes me think he's okay, and therefore i feel completely justified in muttering a few words of prayer with my little wanderer, and then commanding him back to bed.

his own bed.

there is NOTHING better jasper would like than to join his father and me in our "cosy grown up bed". when charles goes on business trips jasper, nickels to nothing, will appear by my bedside every night, not touching, just standing beside me. looking. waiting for me to wake up. and if i take too long, he places on finger on my arm. and then i wake up. and he asks if he can sleep on charles' side. sometimes i say yes. and i always regret it, because jasper is a mover and a shaker type of sleeper.

this summer when we were on evacuation number two, we spent the night at a best western. jasper started off the night sleeping in the closet (don't be so skeptical, it fit jasper and sebastian quite nicely) and by 3am, he wormed his way into bed with me. by 7am, if the bed was a clock, jasper was reading six o'clock, while i was ten past four. so i got out of bed to do a wee, and with pam and bob watching, we observed jasper sliding over, until he had overtaken my side of the bed.

at predator ridge, while jasper was still getting over whatever lingering side effects he had of being evacuated twice, jasper got up int he middle of the night from his upstairs bed and came down to me, where i was sleeping in a single. i told him to do a wee. he did, and then asked if he could join me in bed, whispering, "because i am so very scared, mummy and i don't want to wake up the girls." i didn't want that either, so i let him join me. and then at 5.30, i was awoken by the very unpleasant realisation that my son was weeing on me. "oh mummy i am so sorry…!" he sobbed and tried to clean me wtih a clean t-shirt.

you get my point. when jasper sleeps, you want him to stay there. for the night.

but when he wakes up, he can be very very funny.

he treats you like you are the Godfather or the Pope. after you are awoken, he grabs your hand and rubs his face against it several times, back and forth, back and forth. he kisses it too, passionate smacks.

i just love him, but i do wish he slept more. and better.

they're home from swimming.

more soon.

one week later…

for the next three years, i will have all four children at one school.
or at least that's the plan. who knows what could happen.

yes right now all my kids are kennedy kids. sebastian in primary three and the triplets scattered throughout the various primary one classes. hooray!!

the first week brought several classic lines.

tess: jasper, were you a good boy today?
jasper (indignantly): of course! i was very good mummy, except when i was being a little bit naughty!

carys: mummy, i think i feel smarter when my hair is in a bunch.

sela: the teacher will write children's names on the board with a sad face when they are naughty. i will never get my name on the board. i will always be such a good girl mummy. there will not be sela's name on the board and if there is, it will be the teacher's mistake.

sebastian: my teacher just keeps getting better and better. and she's pretty.

by friday, the much loved friday night picnic, the triplets had circles under their eyes and had to be brought home early. even going to bed at the unfair, unreasonable and very likely, unGodly hour of 8.30pm still resulted in massive dark swollen circles under sela's eyes the next day.

they love school.

everyone seems to think that I have a great deal of time. this is very far from the truth, but it is something i aspire to. i am in the pta office a lot, and trying to get this home better organised.

we will post pictures soon of my little kennedy kids.

a little thing happened last friday

the kids asked how babies were born.

i blame auntie pammie and her burgeoning belly.

sebastian has asked before, and i have vaguely alluded to the "birth canal" (quite brilliantly) and then changed topics.

but the other night, there was no where to run. every time i tried to change the topic…they managed to get back to birthin babies.

"oh look everyone, is that a little bee?"
"How does the bee get out of it's mummies uterus?"

"so yes, the birth canal which we've talked about before. and we've also talked about dessert!!!"
(how could that fail??)
"but where is the birth canal? where? i want to know!"

so it was, i decided, time.

i could have just told sebastian, but he would have just told the others, i reckoned, so it was just best to tell them all. bloody PAM! not only did she steal my fertility, but she made me have this conversation!

matters were not helped by my mother, who stood behind the children, laughing and gesturing and and saying helpful things like, "yes, tess, how?" i am slightly less repentant for being such a PITA child.

"all right, kids, i will tell you." i promised.

and then i started laughing.

(please note that charles was on a conference call upstairs.)

i bit the inside of my cheek and started.

"when you looked at auntie pammy's body, where is the big bump?"

all the kids make approximate gestures.

is it anywhere near her throat?

they all decided no.

is it anywhere near her bottom?

they all decided no.

well, what other holes are there on a person?

my mother redeemed herself slightly by supplying, "woman!"

"…right…woman!"

i decided to let the kids figure this one out for themselves. i saw their minds visually darting over their understanding of the female form and drawing a blank. i guess it was up to me. i shared it with them.

thankfully, instead of horror on their faces, there was surprise. the triplets repeated the word, while sebastian said, really? does it hurt?

i told him that it did a bit, but that 30 seconds after he was laid on my chest i had forgotten that it hurt. he smiled at that bit.

so, there we go. they KNEW. it was over.

but hey, in for a penny, in for a pound, i was on a roll and ready to rock.

deep breath.

would you like to know how babies are made?

okay.

"well, the man and woman go somewhere usually cosy, and they usually lie down, and after a while, and maybe some kissing and cuddling, they take off their clothes, and then…"

at graeme's suggestion i used the term "the willy sort of sneezes" which the kids understood. they asked how big sperm were and what they looked like. i drew a picture. i got an egg from the fridge to explain fertilization. they asked if the baby is then massive. at that point i got some water and poured dish liquid into it. one bubble came up.

how many bubbles i asked.

one! most of them said.

and same in the mummy's tummy, except it is one small part of the baby. and then (i stirred the water slightly, making more bubbles) the baby grows. in the beginning the mummy's tummy is very flat, because there isn't much baby. but as there are more parts or bubbles, it grows (mad frothing of water, wild wishing that there was more fairy liquid left).

and then the baby grows and grows in the uterus and the mummy's uterus grows and then when the mummy's body decides it is ready, the baby is BORN! i declared.

then there was a little discussion about how we don't tell our friends this wonderful tale, that their mummies and daddies will want to tell them. why? inquired our kids. i said it was like the truth about santa claus. it isn't for us to tell the kids what we know. "yes," reflected sebastian. "we always know things first." (the burden of his overwhelming intelligence).

the discussion was over. i had to eat a SKOR bar to calm down.

had i done it well? had i scarred them? did i care? it was OVER!!!

the kids were all laissez faire about it. it's been a week and no one has brought it up.

the next day i did a little "howawya" with sebastian. charles was there.

"so sebbie, yesterday you learned how babies were born, and, made!"

"i don't like to think about it, mummy."

so there we are. i had made a right mess of it all. good thing charles was there to clean it up.

"why lovey?"

"does it hurt the mummy?"

"oh sweetheart. i didn't mind. not at all. in fact, my first words to you were not, "ouch! you hurt me!" but, "oh my little man, i love you so much"."

he smiled and climbed into my lap.

he looked at his father.

when you are making the baby, does it hurt the daddy?

i snuggled with my little boy, smiled and let charles answer that question without exaggerating, smiling or being too vehement.

is it a good thing that they haven't mentioned it again? do you think they have forgotten it? are my kids going to have boring $e# lives all because their mummy explained the whole thing wrong to them?  or even worse, do i have to explain it again?