Hi Everyone,

I think the combination of school holidays with four young children and this whole lake mitigation stuff has overloaded my brain. There’s so much I’m trying to get my head around with such little time to get my head around it (the lovely children DO NOT STOP TALKING or annihilating my poor mother’s house).
I had a mini crisis about what my role is here because the last thing I want to do is get in the road of discussions between our local flood mitigation group or the wonderful work other people are doing to get some action at Lake Eppalock, but my sage mother just told me to stick to my values and stay the course so that is what I’ll do. I figure it doesn’t hurt to have people hitting this from all angles and I am not limited in what I share because I report to no one (I tell myself, while cutting the crusts off my two-year-old’s plain butter sandwich). Mum did also ask if I would please stop referring to myself as a wanker so I’ll endeavour to do that.
I’ve had further discussions with a representative from Minister Jaclyn Symes office, as well as the Director of Water Resource Information and Modelling, who makes recommendations to Minister Harriet Shing. I should also note that my contact at Jaclyn Symes office has been assisted to answer my questions by Minister Shing’s staff, who despite their lack of communication are also listening and trying to help, and I do feel confident we are now being listened to and considered in ways we weren’t before our community started pushing so hard for change. This is in large part due to the work of our Flood Mitigation Group and tireless Community Page admins, as well as all of you amazing people who have shared social media posts or contacted representatives/authorities directly.
Interestingly, it has been noticed up the line that this is a very community-led push for action, rather than from our representatives. I think this speaks to how strong and united our community is, as well as our desperation for change. We will step respectfully in front of those who are not willing or able to help us.

Jesse, Director of Water Resource Information and Modelling, was really informative in how the management of water releases takes place. Obviously, while I’ll share what I know here, the information he told me needs to get out to the wider community through more official channels. My typed shorthand may be regurgitated less than clearly, and my brain is a bit of a sieve right now.
An interactive information session with GMW is in the pipeline and though it’s coming too late, it will provide an opportunity for community members to have their questions answered, as well as hopefully provide information you might find reassuring. Fingers crossed such a session will be announced in the coming days.

So, the information I have wanted has primarily been around the following questions:

Who can give the instruction to release more water during wet periods when the lake is nearing full capacity? (Since GMW seem unable to do so until it’s too late.)

What is stopping that person/office from doing it?

What is the downside to creating airspace in Lake Eppalock?

What is the genuine chance of water being released in the short term? (Do we have a fighting chance here?)

Jesse, I’m not sure if you are reading this but if I butcher these answers significantly, please get in touch and I will amend them.

But in layman’s terms this is how I understand it:

1. Who can give the instruction to release more water?
   GMW is bound by a part of legislation known as ‘bulk entitlements’. A bulk entitlement is a legal right to take and use water granted under the Water Act 1989. Under that bulk entitlement there is a set of rules from which GMW take their instructions, which currently restricts them from releasing more water unless a significant spill is predicted. As I understand it, the Minister for Water, Harriet Shing, does have executive power to amend bulk entitlements, however this would ordinarily need to be done through an engagement process with potentially impacted water users.
   So basically, GMW cannot make the call, but Minister Shing, if given the recommendation to do so could.
2. Okay. Right. Why aren’t they doing it?

The primary purpose of Lake Eppalock is for water harvesting, not flood mitigation. Jesse was quick to point out that he is sympathetic to the argument of needing the right balance. That is certainly what we are arguing for. Nobody here wants to drain the lake dry, we are country people, we know the impact of drought and we know how important water is. But placing water harvesting, during wet times, above the wellbeing and safety of entire communities needs reconsidering. Quickly, if possible.

Back to the answer.

As it stands, in order to change the current position held by those managing our water, there would need to be sufficient data to indicate our community would benefit from further releases. Apparently current modelling does not support this. Yes, I would like to see the modelling, and yes, this is where I hope I made our stance very clear.

Our community needs two things right now. Physical airspace in Eppalock to give us some breathing room for future downfalls. And, physical airspace in Eppalock to give us some breathing room in our heads.
I hope I adequately shared with Jesse the distress and anxiety that is consuming our community at so many different levels.

A catastrophic rain event like the one in October might not be stopped by pre-releases (we need engineering and further regulatory changes for that) but a moderate rain event would surely be assisted by pre-releases of water. Again, it would be interesting to see actual modelling. And I would again say, if you cannot be sure pre-releases won’t help, we deserve the chance to try.

The welfare, and mental and physical safety, of a traumatised community must weigh heavily on the side of pre-releasing water, even if the current modelling doesn’t support it, because unfortunately, data and modelling hasn’t served us well until this point.

3. What is the downside to creating airspace in Lake Eppalock?

It’s back to the water harvesting. We all know water is a precious commodity. The current framework/legislation/policy (I don’t know the right word) stipulates that water releases should only be made if its quite certain that water can be re-harvested through later inflows. Basically, they want to know that any water released will be topped back up. I’m not sure how one figures that out, since none of us know what the weather gods will do, but I suppose they look to BOM’s long term forecast, which currently suggests we’re heading for El Nino conditions.
Again, I would argue, the trade off for releasing some water, outweighs the need for water harvesting that will quite possibly be recouped anyway.

4. What is the genuine chance of having some water released?
   Well, we keep pushing. We have the Office of Minister Symes and the Office of Harriet Shing, along with other key decision makers, paying attention and considering the best course of action. I urge them to not only consider the structural and physical needs of our community, but also the emotional well-being of our community.
   Media are sharing our story. We are making our voices and stories heard and the right people are listening. You are so strong and brave.

I need to go and feed my neglected children some dinner so I’ll leave it there. I hope that information is helpful and accurate as it stands right now. Things can change and I hope they do, but for now it’s something to work with because knowledge is power.

One last thing I would like to say is that I truly believe we are more effective when we raise our words, not our volume. I have a good sense of how worried, distressed, and agitated you feel. I am out of my home too. My brothers, my in-laws, my colleagues, my neighbours, my closest friends – all had their houses and businesses annihilated in October’s floods. My grandpa died after moving from the local hostel to a hospital out of town. My husband’s grandmother will never return to her home. I see destruction and frustration and anxiety everywhere. But I will hold hope in my hands as gently as I can muster and I will use it to fuel action as much as I can. We are never without hope. Find it in a loved one, find it in a pet, find it in your community, find it in yourself. You are needed here.

So much love to you all, as always,

Eliza.

This is an honest chat that reflects only my own thoughts. It could be long and wrong and at this point I feel kind of like a haggard woman who keeps barking at people (respectfully, I hope). I never, ever thought I’d be the sort of person who would tag politicians in social media posts and speak to media about our broken little town. I feel like a bit of a wanker to be honest.
Probably there are people outside of our area that are sick of me banging on about flood stuff, I’m sorry. You have supported me and comforted me, even loved me, when I have shared my most personal stories. I know that is not true of many places on the internet and I feel a real responsibility to not cock it up, to protect it, to not push people away.
Last night I was lucky enough to listen to the most inspiring woman, Rabia Siddique, speak in Echuca. I cannot do her story or her resilience any sort of justice by describing it here, but if you ever get the chance to hear her speak, take the opportunity. I’m ordering her book tonight because she left such a mark on me and I want to read back over the words that felt so profound last night.
Hearing Rabia speak only served to entrench my belief that when something needs changing we have to speak up about it. She spoke about using our sphere of influence to create ripples of change, about the power of one person. I see that in our community. Lighthouses everywhere. Our community house, our community page, our front-line shop owners and workers who provide a soft landing place when people need to get things off their chest. But there’s more than that. Quiet people who work behind the scenes to get things done, funny people who offer comedic relief, generous people who have given more than any of us know, sincere people who tell you it’s not alright, it’s actually pretty shit.
Yesterday, no doubt due to the pressure (extra)ordinary people like you have placed on them, Goulburn Murray Water issued a statement about how they’re managing the water levels at Lake Eppalock, which as of today sits at 97.42% full.
The statement was disappointing to me, because it missed the opportunity to answer the question that most of us want answered, that is, why is only the smallest amount of water (150ML/day for environmental flows) being released when the outlet valve can release up to 1600ML/day?
We don’t need reassurance that the SES and BoM will inform of us of flood advice, we’ve lived that experience, and we know there is nothing reassuring about it. What we would like is to avoid the need to get flood warnings in the first place.
I am not a hydrologist or anything resembling an expert in the management of water, I’m a busy mum who forgets where she has put her keys and struggles to park her car in tight spaces. Like everyone else I am relying on those who know what’s happening to act in our best interests, and I’m relying on them to be transparent about why they are doing what they are doing. A lack of information can sometimes lead to people making up their own information, which is not often good.
Most of us in Rochester now understand that Lake Eppalock has a fixed crest spillway. We know this means they cannot release large volumes of water as is done with other water storages like Lake Eildon. When the bathtub fills up, it spills, uncontrolled, over the edge, straight towards our low-lying communities. That is something we hope can be changed in the future through engineering solutions determined by experts. That’s what we wrote hundreds of submissions to the flood inquiry for. But realistically, an engineering solution could be years away.
In the short term, if there are regulatory changes that can be made so that Goulburn Murray Water can release the maximum output of 1600 ML/d in times of high saturation, that would be a start. If only to have us feel that everything that can be done, is actually being done.
In the short term, the communication between government departments, water management, and at-risk communities can be improved, if only to keep us informed so that we not making up worst case scenarios or unhelpful rumours.
Currently, with the lake at 97.42% of its capacity, as per the latest statement from GMW, they are only releasing about 150ML/d for environmental flows. 1600ML/d might still be a pittance but over a week that equates to 11,200ML, which over a month or so might provide some much-needed air space. But clearly, that needs to be done long before flood warnings are issued.
Am I naïve and ignorant about how this all works? I have absolutely no doubt.
But if there is nothing that can or will be done in the short term, someone needs to openly say it, so residents in our communities can make an informed decision about their future.
Today, because you amazing people shared that last post over 500 times, I got a call from the Hon. Jaclyn Symes’ office. I think maybe every time you shared the post, those who were tagged got a notification, which must have been pretty annoying. It was a genuine call to see how they could help. I shared the distress of our community and I was listened to. I feel confident we will have an informative answer tomorrow regarding why only the bare minimum is being released and how confident they are that our community will be safe. I know many of you contacted Harriet Shing’s office and I know you have made a difference. You are lighthouses. You are using your sphere of influence.
Friends, I have so much hope for our community. I need you to hang onto it too. I know you are cold and tired and so far beyond anything you ever thought you were capable of, but you are doing it. I’m not going anywhere and neither are all of the lighthouses around you.

Biggest love,
Eliza
(Cynical comments are not helpful to fragile people, please don’t leave them here tonight.)

27/10/2021

Dear Damian Drum MP,

The IPCC’s latest report nearly brought me to despair, ‘Code Red for Humanity’.

I am the mother of four beautiful young children who have the right to a hopeful, productive, and safe future. But with the world already having warmed an average of 1.1 degrees Celsius and on track to warm by almost 3 degrees by the end of the century, their future worries me enormously. Already, at 1.1 degrees warming we are seeing terrifyingly extreme weather events, unprecedented heat records and rapid loss of biodiversity in our environment, and things are just getting started.

The Federal Government’s condescending, heal-dragging declaration of ‘net zero by 2050’ would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so terrifying. It is too late, we need action now. This is a crisis, now.

The climate bill introduced into the parliament by Zali Steggall was based on a very successful Act the UK parliament passed in 2008. That Act has led to bipartisan support for emissions reductions in the UK. A similar result could be achieved in Australia, we could be a renewable energy superpower, a role model for other countries. We could create jobs, and have an optimistic, sustainable future, rather than wait for the inevitable job losses that will come from coal mining closures. Because at some stage, they will close.

But the Coalition shut down opportunity even for debate.

A government is elected to represent the views and needs of its people, and as polls show the overwhelming majority of Australians want stronger action on climate, I cannot help but feel the Federal Government is more concerned with lining its pockets than representing ordinary Australians.

If stronger action is not displayed by the Coalition, your party will certainly not be getting my vote at election time.

As a parent, as a primary school teacher, and as a person who loves our planet, I urge you to do more to fight for the precious environment that we live, farm and work in.

Please.

Yours Sincerely,

Are you someone who loves to make resolutions? Never does it? Gives zero cares about it? I’m somewhere in the middle. I have made so many resolutions over the years that I was just never going to keep…run everyday! (LOLOLOL)…eat more healthfully! (great in theory, bloody hopeless in practice)…this is my general vibe – make hollow promises about improving my body, then break them within 48 hours while chortling at the comedy of my intentions. In fact I’m pretty sure I chortled WHILE making my resolutions because I knew I wouldn’t keep them and I really didn’t care. I’m such a flake *she says chortling at herself*.

I do love a new year though. There’s something blank and hopeful about it. It offers one an opportunity, or perhaps a reminder, that we are in charge of ourselves. We are in the driver’s seat of our one wild and precious life (Mary Oliver, the gift that keeps on giving). We have heard the line about ‘living in uncertain times’ on repeat this year, and as with everyone else I’m pretty keen to drop the ‘un’ and experience a precedented year some time soon. But here we are so let’s crack on with it. I am buoyed with hope that the world appears to be taking climate change with some degree of seriousness, even if our federal government does not. I feel like society, me included, is waking up to the importance of taking better care of our planet, of each other, of our animals. Maybe, hopefully, this mass consumption world we are in, will start taking steps to a more circular economy. Less ‘one and done’, more ‘use and pass on’. It starts with you and me, we start where we are.

This year, instead of an appearance related resolution, I’ve enjoyed starting a list of 21 things I’d like to do in 2021 – as per Gretchen Rubin’s podcast, which I listen to sporadically.

This is not a list of resolutions, they are not things I have to do. It’s just a list of things I’d like to focus on this year, if I don’t do them then so be it, I’ve enjoyed thinking about what’s important to me this year regardless of the outcome. Some things on the list are easy, some will be more challenging, some are one-offs, others will be a work in progress.

I’m writing this while the girls nap and my boys play around me, this is my life right now, grabbing moments to myself where I can. And it is a good starting point for number one.

1. Writing is my form of play. It is important to me and it is okay to tell my boys not to disturb me for half an hour while I do it. I am modelling the importance of following your passion.

2. Go to the dentist.

3. Have the mole on my thigh removed. I have had this checked many times, it’s not suspicious and it’s not even the most dodgy mole on my body but EVERY summer I look at it and worry about it. It’s right in my line of sight. Finally I went to my doctor and asked if she’d just take it off, she is and it’s happening this month, yay!)

4. Play or read something with each child on their own every day. Even if it’s just a quick picture book, this is very important to me.

5. Following on from this, sneak in alone time with the boys. School days make it hard to have one-on-one time so little grocery shops, odd jobs and a quick milkshake every now and then will be golden opportunities.

6. Read for 21 minutes everyday. I have been setting the timer, it helps a lot, so happy to be reading again!

7. Walk kids to school more regularly.

8. Go on a proper family holiday. (As in, longer than three days.)

9. Commence building our new home. (Excitement! Nerves! Gratitude!)

10. Create higher expectations for helping around the house (for kids, not Ash – he’s really very good).

11. Regularly visit the library with the girls.

12. Go out for dinner with Ash once a month. (This is a lofty one but let’s just write it down!)

13. Do more weekend getaways. Nothing fancy, just book it in and do it.

14. Do my abdominal and pelvic strengthening exercises every day. Ok, I did just do a brief chortle.

15. Shower at night more often. I neeeed a morning shower, but every time I shower at night I feel so clean and zen and wonderful. Plus, zero kids sitting between my feet. Must do more often!

16. Recycle our soft plastic.

17. Limit phone use. I’m already doing this, I rarely use my phone in front of the kids, I set a timer on my social media and I delete social media apps for regular breaks. This is working well but would still like to reduce the evening scroll.

18. Learn to sew. Something. Even a button.

19. Buy second hand. I love op shops and Facebook marketplace, I bought most of Sid’s Christmas presents from there and he loves them!

29. Fill the gaps. When I see a need, fill the gap. You know how some people seem so natural at bringing food, dropping a card, offering to help someone in need. That’s not me. I second guess myself constantly, ‘what if the food I cook is crap?’ ‘What if they don’t want my help?’, ‘what if we have some awkward interaction?’ No, Eliza, that’s bullshit. Fill the gaps.

21. Leave my kids – all of them – for a night away. It’s one of my best friend’s 40th this year, I don’t know what she’s doing but I am going!

Phew, that’s 21 things for 2021. I’ll check in with myself next time I have a spare minute…so maybe 2040. Whatever! Happy New Year!

P.S. I have pushed my boys to their limit of not bothering me and they are demanding snacks so this has not been proofread for spelling, grammar or sense-making of any kind. Forgive me.

Eliza xx

Now that it’s Saturday and the pressure of the weekday virus hotpot is hopefully turned down a notch, I want to share with you a couple of different reasons why you might be finding ‘homeschooling’ your child/ren to be a challenge – aside from the obvious stressors that are no doubt orbiting your house like an ever-tightening belt.

Firstly, call it home schooling, call it remote learning, call it online education, it’s all semantics to me. The main point is, you are being called to support your child’s learning in a way you never thought you would, under conditions you couldn’t have dreamt up.

And after a very short week of this type of learning, the challenges have become fairly obvious.

Our children do not view us as their teacher, despite the myriad of skills, love and knowledge we have bestowed upon them over their lifespan (EXTENSIVE, kids, extensive!). Snack-maker, yes. Hug-giver, yes. Bedtime-story-reader, yes. Fun-police, yes.

Teacher? Well, if you don’t work at their school and your name doesn’t start with a Mrs or Mr, then no, probably not. This already creates a difficult dynamic where a child has to transition between son/daughter and student. Where the heck does one start and the other end? We are all trying to figure that out.

Even as a very studious child, I can vividly remember the difficulty in having my Dad teach me for science in grade 6. I found the situation so uncomfortable that by the end of the first lesson I had told him to ‘Shut up!’, something I would NEVER have said to a teacher, and only rarely would have said at home (in the middle of a tween meltdown, perhaps). Of course this got me in trouble at school and then again at home when Mum found out. But I wasn’t trying to cause trouble, I just didn’t have a handle on what this new teacher/student relationship meant for me. The same confusion may well be happening for your child, only they very likely don’t have the words to talk about it.

Also, importantly, teachers do not just rock up to a classroom and start transplanting knowledge into the brains of their students. They spend weeks, months even, building rapport with each child. They plan, research, problem-solve and collaborate with other teachers to create lessons that meet the needs of their students. They stay awake at night, reflecting on what they can do better, how they can better help a particular child they know to be struggling, or how to extend one that keeps reaching further and further ahead. They conjure up all sorts of ideas about how to engage those students who are not buying in.

Teachers are still doing this, but must be feeling incredibly constrained, as they can’t be right there to see how each student is coping with the set tasks. For now, that’s part of our job.

We are the (mostly untrained) relief teachers being called in at 8 o’clock in the morning. So, as the parent of a younger student, that makes it my job to get my head around the daily plan, interpret what is being asked and deliver the lesson to my child. Even as a teacher myself, this is difficult because I didn’t write the lessons, I don’t know exactly what has been taught previously, and I don’t know how high my expectations should be. Plus, there’s that whole parent/child dynamic again.

Then there is the conundrum of how hard to push. Not very, is my answer.

When children are in a classroom, they are surrounded by their peers who are working on very similar tasks. They can observe what other students are doing and how much effort they are putting in. They can share ideas and ask each other questions –  in real time. Often, they learn as much from each other as they do from the teacher – it’s a natural, but very special thing to be a part of.

At home, they have no peers. No friends to laugh at their mistakes with. They just have you, sitting right there, ready to jump in and correct a mistake that probably isn’t important. I have had to remind myself constantly that just because Bobby can learn something, does not mean he should. He might be able to, but not ready. He could have learned to ride a bike with no training wheels when he was four, but he was not ready. He possibly could have been toilet trained at two and a half, but he was not ready. I have the same mentality when it comes to teaching him anything academic, if he can do something but it’s making him stressed, making it unenjoyable, he’s not ready. I drop the ball then, because in my view, this is not the time for extra stress. Writing the letter ‘c’ more neatly is just not that important. He will catch up when he gets back to his beloved teacher and has all of that wonderful peer support around him.

Lastly, in my ramblings for the day, there is the negative impact of social media comparison. Because you are going to see other parents posting fun activities they are doing with their children, and maybe even proudly displaying the achievements of their child’s work. I wholeheartedly put myself into this category because I share games and activities I do with my kids – but I hope I also show the reality that is me getting overwhelmed, the fact my house is a constant mess, and that most days we sit out the front in our driveway waiting with some desperation for Ash to return home. I do not share Bobby’s work because I don’t think that would be helpful – it would just add more fuel to the comparison monster. But suffice to say, he finds some areas of learning easier than others. Sight words for example, are something I take really slowly with him because I know it’s a prime example of ‘to go fast we must go slow’. He’s possibly behind other kids in this area, I don’t care. He has always loved learning by following his interests and I am determined not to kill that joy. Try to ease the pressure of comparison by reminding yourself what is really important. Is it that your child can read as many words as your friend’s kid, or is that your child feels successful and continues to grow their confidence and love of learning in their own way. The trees that grow the deepest roots will end up being the strongest. To go fast we must go slow. All of those great mantras.

I guess what I am trying to do through writing this, is unburden myself, and hopefully you, of the pressure that might be sitting on your shoulders. Take your time, do what you can and let go of what you can’t – it’s just not that important right now.

You are doing great!

Eliza xx

We live in a world of too much information.

We have more information at our fingertips, flashed in our faces, than I think the human condition was ever designed to handle.

In his new book The Resilience Project, Hugh van Cuylenburg shares a story about meeting the most joyful little boy while teaching in India. Stanzin lives a life of utter poverty, and yet his gratitude for the meager things he does have, has a lasting impact on Hugh. He is so happy with so little.

I wonder if a large part of Stanzin’s gratitude has come from not knowing.

Not knowing that there are people out there who not only have hole-free shoes to wear, but have a cupboard filled with the latest influencer-led fashion.

Not knowing that there are children who have more than a broken rusty swing to play on, rather they have toys taking over their house.

Not knowing that for some people, the food he is eating wouldn’t be fit for their pets.

Not knowing about world conflicts, climate change, the latest political scandal. Not knowing about ice epidemics, whether it will rain in three months time, what latest gadget he is supposed to buy. Not having a chance to google any unusual health symptoms. Not following the lives of complete strangers online. Bearing only the sadness and worry of those in his immediate circle of life.

Not having the news of faraway places surging through all of the screens he doesn’t have.

And in this not knowing, maybe he has more space to care for what is really important. To enjoy what he does have.

Of course Stanzin would have things to worry about, things that those of us living in a privileged country with privileged healthcare and privileged education systems, would struggle to understand. I wouldn’t trade places with him.

His life would have been harder than I can imagine, and yet, and yet, his joy.

We can learn a lot from Stanzin.

Information is an amazing thing, but information can get heavy too. Just because we can know something, does not mean that we should.

A while ago, I can’t even remember when, Ash got rid of all social media. He suffers FOMO pretty badly so Facebook and Instagram weren’t serving him well. He now has no idea about people’s birthdays and misses the odd bit of news, but he loves being offline. Just because he could know everything about everyone else’s lives, does not mean that he should.

I don’t suffer FOMO, in fact I’d say I get JOMO (joy of missing out) more than anything. What I do get though, is the worries. And lately I’ve been taking on the worries of the world to a point that isn’t helpful. When I get online my finely tuned disaster radar tends to sniff out the bad news and follow the links, commentary and information down endless rabbit holes until my worldview becomes so negatively skewed that I can’t see the sunshine reflecting off my own kids’ blonde heads.

That is not useful worry.

I got myself in such a state one night, after watching more footage of the recent interstate bushfires, that I messaged one of the only people who has always been able to calm my overthinking, jump-ten-years-ahead brain. I messaged my Dad.

I told him I was in a state of panic thinking about the world my children are growing up in.

Obviously, having raised me, he knows me pretty well. His response was exactly what I needed.

‘I always believe in the future. Our world in the sense of medicine, education, food and even world understanding and tolerance is so much better than when I was a child and the world we are making will overcome whatever obstacles to be even better again. It is a normal reaction to worry for your kids, a desire to protect. You can’t rationalize it, have faith in the future and love them as hard as you can!’

Oh how I hope I can one day calm my own kids adult worries the way that my parents can still soothe mine.

It’s important to be informed, to have an understanding of world issues, to always strive to be better to the planet, to our fellow humans.

But too much information can tip the balance from educated to overwhelmed. And when you’re overwhelmed you’re not much good to anybody.

So I have reduced my information intake. I ‘muted’ some of the accounts I follow on social media that I thought were informing me, but have actually been overwhelming me with negative news stories. I need to know about what is happening in the world but I do not need the bad news stories on repeat. I need to be a gatekeeper for myself as well as my children in terms of what information we are consuming.

I am educating myself in different ways I can help the planet, because although I’m a teeny dot in the ocean, it is important to me, and so I’ve begun donating to a fantastic initiative called carbon8 https://www.carbon8.org.au/ which helps to transition Aussie farmers to regenerative agriculture (I heard about this on the Slow Home podcast). By doing something, however small, I feel a little more useful and a little less overwhelmed. There are so many fantastic initiatives happening that seek to strengthen communities and build relationships between each other, which is the useful stuff. That is what I want to focus on.

There is a lot to be learned from little Stanzin, who in knowing less, somehow seems to know a lot more.

Eliza xx

 

Sometimes I worry that one of our kids has anxiety. I worry that he might be a Nervous Nelly forever. That he might always hold onto the edge of life’s swimming pool, never having the courage to let go, to see what he’s really made of. To see the fun and fear and story-making that happens out there in the middle.

Buuuut then I remember who I was as a little person.

Some of my earliest memories are of kicking and clawing against my kinder teacher when Mum first had the audacity to leave without me. I would have scratched the teacher’s eyeballs out if it had meant Mum would stay. And though my behaviour was that of a rabid animal, I was actually just a completely desperate kid who couldn’t imagine surviving without the comfort of my mum close by.

I spent the entire first YEAR of school sitting at my classroom door during recess and lunchtimes, too scared to leave the sanctuary of my Prep room lest I get lost or someone I didn’t know spoke to me. I’d just sit there and wait for the bell. I can still feel the cool abrasion of that doorway cement on my somewhat smaller bottom. (I also remember an ant biting my bum, clearly sick of the regimented obstacle blocking its path twice daily. The things you remember.)

And just to add to my Bloody Legend status, I’m *fairly* sure I wet my pants more than the average bear too.

I mean, honestly, I was KID GOALS.

If I look back now I’d probably diagnose junior Eliza with some form of anxiety (or shy sook, either way).

That wasn’t done then, but it doesn’t mean I wasn’t supported. Because, as I am learning, we don’t need to label a behaviour or a temperament in order to support it. And for kids, some degree of anxiety is pretty normal, it’s a big ol’ world out there.

My parents, though probably a little exasperated by my behaviour, never seemed to make a big deal of my shyness, it was just part of who I was. They probably didn’t sit me down and explain what I was feeling but they did make adjustments to support me. They made sure I got to school early so I wasn’t caught up in the frisson of drop offs that can send an anxious kid over the edge.

They made sure I went to bed on time so I had the opportunity to offload one (or ten) of my neurosis before I slept.

They indulged me in my need to always have the closest bedroom to theirs.

They would pick me up from sleepovers when I couldn’t go through with staying the night, never making me feel like an idiot.

They indulged me in certain things, while staying strong with others (we will get you to school early if it helps, but we will always make you go). They epitomised Brene Brown’s ‘Strong back. Soft front.’

My parents were not perfect, they would’ve been just as clueless as we all are in figuring out how to parent. They would’ve stuffed up numerous times along the way, but, thankfully, that’s not the bits I remember. So I guess on the whole they did a pretty good job of just accepting who we were, trusting that eventually we’d figure ourselves out. I don’t think they ever analysed parenting the way we have a tendency to do now, if they had a tough day they probably just had a glass of cask wine from the fridge and waited for tomorrow.*

In this age of information overload, we are constantly given messages about how to parent best. How to reduce our children’s risk of anxiety, how to build resilience, how to help them be successful. There is research about everything.

But it seems to me that in the trade of parenting, we could use a little less information and a little more leaning into the kid we’ve got. Because as is the law of tradies, no one’s ever seen a model quite like ours!

I’m going off track now though, because what I’m actually trying to say in my rambly way is that the kid you have in front of you has got a story that is mostly still unwritten. Just because they are anxious now doesn’t mean they always will be. Just because they’re defiant now doesn’t mean they always will be. Just because they’re happy now doesn’t mean they always will be.

They have a story that is separate from ours and will no doubt unfold itself beautifully.

Just look at me, I moved whole blocks away from my mum AND I’ve stopped wetting my pants.

(Don’t ask me to go on the trampoline though, obvs.)

Eliza xx

*Only a little bit serious, Mum.

Please note obviously I am no expert, I can hardly remember my kids’ birthdays so don’t take this as actual advice, see a professional if you have concerns about your own kids, goodness knows there is a spectrum of worriers out there!

I haven’t posted anything for ages because I just haven’t had the urge, and as I’m trapped in the car with a sleeping baby I’ve been thinking about why.

Truly, the answer is that I’m equal parts busy with three kids, equal parts so bloody happy with my lot that I’ve abandoned all desire to vent my thoughts.

Jesus, what a smug mole.

But there’s the truth of it, I’m so damn grateful for my current situation that I just want to squeeze it all close and sniff the life out of it.

I don’t mean to say that everything is smooth sailing. I still lose my parenting mind habitually. The house and car are in a frightful state. My stomach is a deflated jumping pillow and I still have a penchant for conflating my worrries. But for some reason I find myself in this fresh perspective of ‘none of that matters’. What an epiphany! None of that matters!

I mean, who is this balanced person and where did she put Eliza?

I have a family. I have a house. I have friends. I have enough money. The sun is shining more. Meg is sleeping through the night. I can get up early to read again.

The other day I walked inside to find Bobby tucking Sid up on the couch with a blanket because he’d hurt his knee, Sid later bit him. Ash told me I’ve ‘bounced back well’ despite my still wearing high-waisted post-baby black undies and not fitting into my jeans or bras (say the words, fellas, say the words). I can go for a walk. I can drink coffee or wine with friends. Sid asks to hold mine or Ash’s finger ‘just for a little bit’ before he falls asleep.

These are things to be grateful for.

But what I’m possibly most grateful for, is that right now I’m in a position to appreciate them. I’ve got some mental clarity going on.

The stats about mental health problems are enough to GIVE you a mental health problem. Good lord. So I know enough to appreciate that right now someone reading this feels a little bit shit, or a lot shit. I know that in a months time, or tomorrow, or in a year, that could be me. Could be any of us.

But, from a positive perspective, I’m so glad there is increasing awareness and acceptance of the mental health spectrum we all move along. The pluses, the minuses, the fogs, and the clear, starry nights. We all move along that spectrum.

Each time someone shares their story, the good, the bad, the shame-inducing, the hilarious, they shine a light for someone else. A light to show them that darkness never lasts forever. I am really grateful to those people because who knows if it will be a light you or I will need in the future. Keep sharing.

For me, for now, I’m just going to keep putting time into those things that matter most to me.

Board games and adventures with the kids. Netflix and chills with the husband. Books more than phone. Walks more than runs. Weekends outside with friends and family.

The stuff that has always mattered most, I’m going to turn towards that for a while. I hope you are in a position to do the same. 💛

Eliza xx

*Sorry if this is a cringe post, catch me when I fall okay?

I’ve never played football. I don’t know what it feels like to pull up those long socks and tie my laces just right. I don’t know what it feels like to mark that ridiculous leather ball on the run and kick a goal. I don’t know what it feels like to chase down the opposition and tackle them to the ground, or have it happen to me. To be flanked by teammates who are ready to defend you like some modern day war game. I don’t know what it feels like to walk off the ground exhausted, battered and bruised, to put my arms around my fellow players, to sing ‘our’ song. Completely satisfied, or completely not, depending on the outcome. I don’t know what that feels like.

But Ash does, he’s played football for as long as he can remember. His childhood memories are scarce, he can’t tell me which teacher he had in which grade, or what toys were his favourites, he just remembers ‘having a footy in my hands’.

He’s finishing up at the end of this season, and strangely, the game that has been such a mystery to me is making me quite emotional. Because this is what I do know.

I know that when he goes to footy training he always comes home happier than when he left.

I know that many of the important lessons he has learned, and friendships he has made, have come from football.

I know that when he’s going through a stressful time he can play a game that reminds him what life is all about: family and mateship.

I know that the rhythm of pasta nights and pickle juice has become as comforting to me as it is to him.

I know his lucky jocks are revolting.

I know that a bunch of blokes who would rather be thrown to the ground than talk about their feelings, can show affection and love for each other through a pat on the back or a ruffle of their hair.

I know that the day they won the grand final will stay in his heart forever, and so will the team he played with.

I know that watching him play footy, and the way he conducts himself as a sportsman, is a source of great pride to his family.

I know he will always look back on his days playing footy as some of the best in his life.

I know that while I have regularly moaned at his leaving the family teatime olympics, I would never take something so important away from him.

So, in knowing all of that, while I don’t quite understand the love affair with chasing down a hard odd-shaped ball, I can’t help but respect the game that his given my husband so much.

And he’ll hate me saying all of this, but we’re really proud of him. He’s humble and gracious and a role-model to his children, not because of his ability, but because of who he is as a person, which will continue on long after he hangs up the boots.

Annabel Crab wrote ‘Women need wives and men need lives’ and I really am grateful for the life of friendship that football has provided for Ash (and myself).

I suppose, really, this is an ode to the game as much as it is to him.

Now I’ll go back to nagging him about not wiping the bench when he does the dishes and moaning about him leaving me to go on the footy trip.

Life goes on!