Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gratitude. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

FOR MY SIXTH, AT TEN WEEKS


Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,


Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.


Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).


Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).


The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo


But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).


The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.


So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

~ Ruth Hulbert Hamilton "Song for a Fift Child"~

Friday, June 4, 2010

RED NOSE DAY

As a mother, there is nothing that petrifies me more than S.I.D.S

Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.

Just writing it hurts my heart.

When I was 7, the reverend of our church and his wife, dear friends of my parents, lost their 9 1/2 week old son, James, to S.I.D.S.

It was heartbreaking.

James himself I don't remember, thought I'm sure I met him. You don't think to memorise babies "just in case".

But.

I remember the screaming silence of their house. I remember the "Please do not Disturb" sign on their front door. I remember my mother, devastated... she had loaned them the bassinette James was sleeping in.

I remember Alice... their three year old daughter. So very blonde...

And I remember when Elizabeth was born afterwards... and the machines they had hooked up to her cot that would go off if she didn't draw breath for a certain time frame. I remember the heaviness of unmentioned fear.

Paul Arnott, four years after the death of his only son James, wrote a book to help other parents who have to walk this horrific time. It sits on my bookshelf... a constant reminder of this dear little boy my family knew.

Two decades later, I heard about Angie's nephew Luke, who died at 10 weeks... only 7 weeks after sweet Audrey went to Jesus.

I hate how there is no human reason for these children to die. They just do. And it terrifies me.

Everyday, when I head to the cradle of my babe, I have to ignore the niggle of maybe this time. I know I and my children are not immune to the possibility.

No child is.

And that's why it sucks.

And that is also why there are foundations that are raising money to fund research.

Here in Australia, it's Sids and Kids. Since their conception, and the way they have raised awareness to certain contributing factors to 'cot death', the number of deaths has plummeted.

Awesome.

Their main way of raising money for this research is Red Nose Day. Every year, the last Friday in June is the day you go around looking like a dork with a clown nose on your face. Or on your car. Or, even, as they did a couple of years ago, on your house.

I am not making this up.

Since I don't leave my house very much, I chose not to buy a red nose. However, for the last three years, I have purchased magnets for my car, write James' and Luke's names on them, and leave them on my car all year. By the time the next June rolls around it's just in time... by then they have faded completely :)

It's becoming a tradition for us as a family... the yearly swapping of the noses, explaining again why sometimes babies die, but this is how we remember them and taking photos.


I like it.



For information on agencies and foundations in your area that work in the field of infant death research, click HERE.

Monday, December 14, 2009

A Thousand Times, I Love You

You may see over there on the left under the picture of Adam, there is a list of numbered links.

2 years ago, I embarked on a little endeavour I entitled "A Thousand Times, I Love You".

It started out innocently enough. For Valentines day, I wrote a list of 100 things I loved about Adam. He was so chuffed about it, that I decided to do it again. And from there, it morphed. I figured out that if I wrote 100 things every month until his 30th birthday, I would reach 1,000 individual things.

It was THE best year of our marriage to date.

Amazing what a little positive thinking will do.

I've started making Adam a book of his, using blurb.com, but then my scanner died, and I couldn't save any more photos, then our computer crashed... blah blah blah. Needless to say, it still sits there forlornly, waiting my attention.

I want very much to re post the lists here on blogger, but for some reason, it won't let me copy/paste. So for now, you can read them if you click the links.

Anyway, all this to say that, as you may or may not have gathered, I've struggled with liking my kids the last year or two. The three eldest all have learning delays, and all our frustration levels have peaked. Moving into a house half the size we were in with zero back yard has worn all of our nerves to threads.

I'm thinking I need to think positively about my kids for a while. I'm going to post a list of 100 individual things I love about each child once a month on Mondays and Fridays, just to fit them all in.

Of course, today is a Monday, so I might start tomorrow ;)

All I'm going to need for this project, is a notebook and a pen. New thoughts always struck me about Adam when I was driving, or otherwise occupied.

I have learned.

And you never know. My redirected attitude and focus might just be the making of them.

Or me.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

We Interupt the Regular Scheduled Programming

They will not grow old, as we who are left grow old;
Age will not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
With all my heart, thanks boys.
Rememberence Day, November 11