Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Today, This Morning.

The country music awakens me out of my slumber. I slip out of bed into the darkness and stumble to find the clothes on the floor. My bra that has seen better days snaps into place, the old tee is dragged over my head and the trackie's are pulled over my hips. I'm off to have a few precious moments to huff and puff up the hill.

I am not alone, the dogs and cats decide to come and share my time of peace. I hear the new one meow, not wanting to be left behind, so I slow down. I don't really know why I care so much about a cat, but I do. After a time I hear the sound of the Double B coming down the road. Are they early this morning or am I late? I know it's going to get ugly, I can feel my heart pounding as I struggle to hold two Labradors, with no hands left for the others. They sense the rumble in the ground but are frozen, their ears are back but they still do not move. Then they spot the metal beast coming towards them and they are off, faster than I expected, they are safe.....8 lives left.

I have a few quite moments when the animals are happy and I am content. I enjoy the sunshine on my face as it rises in the distance, I'm relaxed. I feel the goodness of the walk enter my body as I turn into the drive. I know Dave's up and the kids are waking. I enter our home....."Muuuuuuummmmmmmm he hit me in the head with his slipper"...peace gone! Reality catches my breath. I hope I handle it well, I split them up, I give them space, I calm them down, they gather themselves and they move on.

I enter my bedroom, grab my clothes and head for the shower. The water is hot, I feel my body relaxing under the heat, I am enjoying this....."Mum, I need to use the loo!". I am naked but not venerable, I am strong in body, but soft to touch. "No worries love come on in" I don't mind at all, the alternative is far worse. I pull the towel off the rail, trying to remember when I last changed them. I dry my hair, under arms, my back and my legs. I make a mental note to book in for some deforestation time. My body is changing, my hair has an agenda all of its own and if I'm not careful, I will be engulfed. I can feel it's time to move, I quickly dress, I run my fingers through my hair and I'm gone.

I enter the kitchen to begin the routine, one that is automatic and subconscious. I get the bowls down from the cupboard that's to high to reach and I allow for the spills on the floor. I make the toast and the school lunch. There's no time for a cup-pa, that will come later. I find the uniform, the one that needs ironing, the one with the little stains. I forgive myself for its condition and seek comfort with the realization that there's is always a kid that will look worse. I tie the laces, I rescue the cat thats drinking from the loo, I brush the teeth, kiss the man and I load them up.

As the motor starts I hear the banter in the backseat. "I want that book, you are not sharing....Muuuuuuummmm she's not sharing!" I ignore them, they can figure it out for themselves. I draw comfort that there are no tears. I turn the radio up and enter the bitumen.

I hear a little voice awaken me out of my haze. A question that's important, one I should listen to "Mum, Why did old Roy die?" I knew this was coming, I knew they overheard a conversation about a distant relative. I begin the talk, the one I hope will cover the answers. I explain the best I can and then I try again, sometimes I just want to lie....but I don't. I stay honest even though I can hear the tears in the little voice behind me. Death cannot be ignored by anyone...not even children.

It hits me in the face, like a bolt of lightning, as I drive to school, as I answer the difficult questions the best I can. I'm older, grown. I have become a woman. I am a mother, a wife, a sister and a daughter but most of I am a woman. As I return home, stopping to rescue the ducklings that have fallen down the cattle grate, I realize that life is hard and good. Strong and weak. It's up and down. There are flowers and there are weeds. It's life and it's death. Mine is a life worth living.

Leonie.

10 comments:

**Anne** said...

Beautiful words Leonie. Thank you for sharing.

Anne xx

Tania said...

God, you're GORGEOUS.

Amy said...

Thanks Leonie.

I wonder how many mums trudge down a very similar path every day. I know I do..

I can often pick my head up in the middle of the day and be grateful that I have a thriving veggie patch that nourishes us and I have a baby boy that gives me the most wonderful cheek and snuggles. The sun is shining, the water didn't wash us away, the cows are milking, the chooks are laying....

jobs jobs jobs and love. repeat.
Life is good.

xx

Kate said...

Phew, its a journey, that's for sure. XX

Michelle said...

Beautiful, beautiful words Leonie.

Thank you SO much for sharing this with us!

Sarah said...

WOW that is such a cool read - almost as if you are reading my mind...

Adriana said...

I wish I could tell things like you do...
I especially love your last sentence.
True words.

Becky said...

Beautiful! I know I have these moments ahead of me and I hope I will be up to the task, as a wife, a mother, and a woman too.

As an aside, in which state do you live that B Doubles are known as Double B's? I love how different areas of Australia have their own language. I grew up in a farming/trucking family and we have B Doubles and Road Trains that work in NSW and QLD so I find it interesting.

Cathy {tinniegirl} said...

This is such a beautifully written piece. Compelling.

Baa-Me Kniits said...

You sound so much like me (the new cat is sniffing under my arm from the chair as I write this!) We don't have B doubles but we have motorbikes which are a bit hairy when you are on a horse! Isn't it funny how we morph into who we always wanted to be :-)