Vivid Births

Vivid are the births of my children; so much pain and so much pleasure. I would relive either or both for a hundred years, such a powerful sense of self.

With trepidation I entered the ER ward for my first and was thrust into the unempathetic arms of a large African women her skin shimmering from the flourescent lights as she told me how she had ten children and this was the easy bit.

‘Oh Great!’ I thought

Whilst my husband slept in the hospital chair I wriggled and writhed with the power that was trying to escape me. I walked, I stood and in the end I gave way to the nurse and lay down. Big mistake! I lay there for hours enhaling gas and air, occasionally being told I wasn’t ready and to stop pushing. How do you stop a force that only nature can control?

Eventually our beautiful boy was born and I was in shock, you can call it PND or whatever you want but new mothers are in shock! We’ve just had our bodies ripped open to produce another person, a whole new person that we are so emotionally and physically connected to that a change in their breathing can make our nipples leak and our vagina flood, not to mention our mood literally trapeze.

This shock was a wave of impressionist thinking, it wasn’t the real world just something I had created to survive. The world had changed on its axis and nothing would look the same again. It was play dates with 3 month olds, they can’t play! It was weigh ins at the clinic for a child who isn’t moving only eating. It was coffee with Mums who all talk at once whilst each are leaking from somewhere. It was walks to the park to sit on a swing, gently, whilst the stitches heal.

I had no idea what to do all I could do was try to love this creature that wanted nothing but yet everything.

My second birth was blissful! No hospital this time, a home birth, a birthing pool, my folks to look after baby number one and The Ashes for hubby to watch. Of course there was effort involved and wobbly moments if I wondered if a home birth was a selfish choice. But with music and candles in the front room of our 300 year old Hertfordshire home that had probably witnessed many births over the years, my baby was nurtured into this world.

I was bathed in my roll top bath with my baby, the midwife had ran the bath and afterwards sat me at my dressing table and brushed my hair! All on the NHS, she was pushy and in charge and exactly what I needed. I hadn’t respected the brash matter of fact midwife with number one but I had grown in the last three years and realised what was required.

The powerful sense of self whilst giving birth the fact that there can be only one result which is the baby will come out. The fact that we are forever connected makes me realise these significant days are to be cherished even after the fact.

The first few weeks of number two was easier but not easy this time I was breast feeding and so could take that private opportunity to breathe. Trying to nurture my boy at the same time not always easy but a necessity. Making our new bundle a play thing.

Watching the two of them roll around on the floor playing like cats giggling, tickling and occasionally scratching, finding their place in the pack. Listening to their squabbles, their questions and support for each other. I wouldn’t change a thing.

The Murray

Whilst on holiday by the Murray River I was able to lose my self persecution of why, if and how and replaced these questions with evidence of now.

Discovering new destinations for this road now so strong, not that crumpled bitumen that seemed to take so long.

Turbulent and exhilarating the street signs just a blur and then some traffic lights to check what might occur.

The Murray River winding through sandy banks, reflections of gum trees and muted sun, a water road, soft yet strong wandering and wondering, flowing like a song.

Fight, Flight, Flow and Freeze

I recently read a meme on Facebook:

‘I’ve thought about running away a lot more as an adult than I ever did as a child!’.

My primal instinct has always been flight not fight and although I laughed out loud on reflection I thought about all the times I did want to run away as an adult.

Ending up at a free camp site 4 hours from Melbourne, my camp chair plonked in the river on a 40 degree January day. Another time taking the kids to Adelaide, when I was aiming for Alice Springs and another flight of fancy in my twenties a trip alone to Nimes, France, the list goes on…

Right now in my life I don’t want to run away from anything or anyone.  It’s a nice place to be.

Fight

Fight is an interesting place to find yourself, anger rising until it has to explode. I’ve always liked to think I am a lover not a fighter however there are times, especially with my motherly instincts that fight can be ignited. It’s not somewhere I generally inhabit and it usually involves conflict with a vacuum cleaner to be honest, bloody things! I’ve broken more than I care to mention maybe I should stop fighting with them and run away next time.

Flow

Flow is my favourite place to inhabit and I believe we all have moments of flow, when your brain switches off from distraction and you are purely focused. I experienced this whilst writing my first book. However after experiencing such huge amounts of it in one year I could then appreciate the other ways in which flow works in life, at work or studying, even housework or spreadsheets. Sometimes shutting off from the world is easy, sometimes not.  Meditation i believe is another form of flow and one I have only recently discovered, such a blissful state.

Freeze

Freeze is another place I have inhabited on a few occassions and apparently trauma can bring this human reaction on.  Again once it has been ignited I believe it is easy to relive.  It’s not necassarily a nice place to be but the brains way of protecting us. It’s not always trauma, time can freeze in wonderful moments too watching a band or holding a hand when all of our emotions are hightened and the brain seems to slow down and freeze frame.

What a lot of F’s!

 

 

Unconditional Positive Regard

Carl Rogers came up with this theory of Unconditional Positive Regard being one of the founders of humanistic psychology.

Wouldn’t it be Absolutely Amazing if everyone gave each other this Kind of regard. Of course Mr Rogers was talking about in a clinical setting and not everyday life because surely that would be impossible wouldn’t it?

Not when I’m driving to work and negatively commenting on everyone else’s driving techniques which are obviously far worse than mine!

Not when the school sends ridiculous emails or messages about students and I wonder incredulous at how disorganised they seem to be, not in fact realising I have never and would never want to try to organise over 1000 hormonal teens, two is quite enough thank you!

Not when my dog is running on the beach being the silly boy he is and another family walk towards us, ‘here we go’ I think. Unconditional positive regard couldn’t be further from my thoughts; will they put their dog on a lead just that second too late so that I can’t catch pup, maybe I’ll put him on a lead now so that can’t happen, maybe they’ll want a play, maybe the other dog is aggressive, maybe I should just turn around and walk the other way. Generally I’ll put him back on the lead to avoid confrontation.

Occasionally unconditional positive regard is met and the dogs have a lovely play and when ready both owners walk away happy that their dog has been happily social.

Occasionally on my way to work someone will give way, or I will give way to them and we will acknowledge each other with a friendly smile or wave.

Occasionally I will be so impressed with the way the school has included our children in social or academic programs that perhaps they wouldn’t normally have the chance to do that I will send an email or go in and talk to them about what a good job they are doing.

Occasionally isn’t really good enough but it’s a start at trying to project unconditional positive regard to my fellow humans.

Big and Horny

Big and Horny are a Melbourne based cover band with an amazing brass section, although it’s been a long time since I have played saxophone as the singer called, “more sax or more sex?”  I knew which I wanted.

Being from Essex, Brassy has always been in my blood I think. Amazing how a derogatory word ‘mainly associated with women’ can bring out the rebel. Why not be loud and proud, audaciously entertaining. Surely the times of being little submissive wifey are over, well they certainly are for me!

A few days previously I had bought a cheap clarinet and then found myself at the front of the stage at Big & Horny shaking my thing. I did take the clarinet out of the box and put it together.  However, I then realised my brassy lung power had obviously dwindled in the woodwind section for quite some time now, I would need a lot more practice.

It was fantastic to see some great musicians and reminded me of Ronnie Scotts in London.  It was innocent fun, enjoyed by all, a collective of conscious happiness, boogying into the early hours. Dancing on a glass table at Ronnie’s Scott’s in the private members lounge will always be a fond memory, far too much champagne! When the two doormen gently helped me down I felt like a Princess being escorted from my carriage.

On this night however my dance partner for the evening was a 6ft4 Aussie with thankfully no glass tables in sight. I’ve never danced with anyone that tall before and it was an exciting expression of our growing friendship. Being twirled around by his big strong arms reminded me of my dancing days as a kid, latin and ballroom classes that I loved so much. Freedom on the dance floor, letting go of the stresses and strains.

Thanks, Big and Horny for reminding me that brassy is definitely a good place to be!

The Adult At The Gate

It was a normal pick up from school, I was as usual listening to the music in the car and then unusually I was masked, standing my restricted distance from the school, the gate and any other human! I noticed my daughter was walking quickly and when we got inside the car I expected the usual tirade about annoying boys, which happened, I listened and we laughed, then sang along to Pink.

The next day on the way to school it all came out; ‘there was a man at the school gate yesterday and he was smiling at me, he didn’t take his eyes off me and made me feel uncomfortable.’

‘he didn’t take his eyes off me and made me feel uncomfortable’ This made my stomach tighten and my eyes sharpen as we pulled up to the school. Any 10 year old uttering those words needs to be heard. I told her that her gut feeling was right and that is what to listen to. She got out of the car and I walked her to the gate, a lioness protecting her cub. I told her I would get there early tonight and would keep an eye out.

The most terrifying thing about this in my mind after alerting the school was the sinking knowledge that this was another parent. There was very little to be done. I kept the communication open with my daughter and watched her closely. For the next week the deputy head walked up and down the gate as the children left waving and smiling at me and I wondered how many times this had happened before. It didn’t happen again.

For those who think that this wouldn’t happen at ‘their school’ or to ‘their children, and it only happens to others, wake up! As women we know when someone makes us feel uncomfortable whether we are 10 or 85.

My family live in a wonderful community in beautiful sunny Melbourne but we still need to be wary and alert.

One in four children has an abuser at arms length! Unfortunately they don’t look like monsters, have horns or fangs. They are just like you and me, they can be kind, happy and loving but they can also be the terrible change in your child’s innocent life.

Over 45% of females have been abused by the time they turn 18 and that figure is just the reported cases. I believe the figures are similar for males.

Be aware, Be Safe and most importantly as a parent be approachable to your children about every subject even the difficult ones. There’s some interesting information below.

https://www.parents.com/parenting/better-parenting/advice/practical-ways-to-talk-to-kids-about-strangers/.

Single Parents

As a single parent I thought I would join a single parents online group to see how others cope with going it alone! I was looking for support as most of my friends are married or living with new partners (tried that didn’t work, Kathryn Ryan is right, I love dolphins but I don’t want to live with one of those either!).

After a couple of weeks in the group I’d followed a few threads about meeting up via zoom, which never fell on the days I don’t have the kids so that didn’t work. I didn’t want to talk about strategy or vulnerabilities in front of my troops!

I followed threads and commented a bit but something wasn’t quite fitting. I was seeing posts from proud dads with their sons woodwork project. Photos of Mums in the park with their kids. Then there were the other photos, the roast dinner, bottle of wine and fire in the background and the ‘new selfie’ with her off the shoulder jumper.

All of a sudden it dawned on me, is this a ‘Single‘ parents group or a single ‘Parents’ group? It seemed some of us were looking for very different kinds of comfort. I told my manfriend that I had joined the group. His reaction was hard to read. I am a single parent doing this on my own I’m just looking for like minded parents. It’s not like I was window shopping on tinder, that’s so last year and hello, Covid alert!

A week later the group name changed to Single Mums & Dads. Well that didn’t clarify anything for me, I thought I’d message someone on there and see what they thought. Well the reply of photo half naked in a hot tub was self explanatory, he should of been on tinder and I should have read between the lines!

Memoir

Frankie BanksWhy Write Memoir?

Many people have kept journals throughout their life, a memoir. Perhaps over a period of travel, a period of change or a period of trauma. Some people write in their journal every day. These writings can easily be turned into a book of memoir. But why? And who would read it? Would you really want your nearest and dearest to?

Have you ever found one of your relatives diaries or letters? It’s always so intriguing to read a family members point of view on love or death, on the big subjects rarely discussed.  That is why you should publish for others to learn; a new viewpoint, a different way of life, even experience a by gone era.

Family History

Family are generally much more forgiving than we give them credit for and they really do want to know the family secrets, even if that secret is merely just a different perspective.

Families over generations sometimes follow the same trends and where that stems from is always interesting.  Websites such as ancestry.com encourage us to delve deeper into our family history but where do we put this information? Do we put it in a bottom draw hoping someone will find it or do we self publish it and help the story to live and breathe.

Fictional Memoir

Capote is most famous for writing fictional memoir. Some memories are too traumatic to simply publish with complete truth and some writers also like to provide some discreet cover by way of fictional memoir.  Sticking to the plot of what happened but perhaps renaming or reshaping some sequences so as not to offend can be ideal. It’s your story after all, it’s your perspective, you can write it however you see fit!

Memoir Memories as Therapy

Writing memories as memoir is also a proven therapy known as written exposure therapy. In conjunction with a therapist this is one of the best known ways to deal with post traumatic stress disorder. I would argue that in varying degrees we have all overcome or suffered from a traumatic experience at some point in our lives. With or without guidance we can all write the wrongs.

In conclusion memoir helps our families to understand and learn about their history, it helps us to move forward from trauma and it helps anyone who reads to widen their perspective and maybe write their own story one day. So what are you waiting for?

If you would like some help with your writing or getting published please email me at frankiebanks27@gmail.com

Daily Beach Walks on the Mornington Peninsula

A Week of Beaches

Since the beginning of Covid-19 the one thing we can all keep doing as part of a  healthy routine is a daily walk. Mentally this is my me time when I can let go of any frustrations and well I guess we all have a few of those right now!

Ray (my one year old kelpie) loves the beach, especially the seagulls, the sticks and all of the amazing smells. During our self isolation every bugger imaginable has decided to use the beach near me so I may as well share the love!

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Learning And Sharing

“Behaviour is often taken as evidence of identity or capability, and this is how confidence and competence are destroyed in the classroom. Getting a sum wrong does not mean you are stupid or that you are poor at maths. To think this is to confuse logic, it is equivalent to thinking a ‘No Smoking’ sign in the cinema applies to the characters in the film” Joseph O Connor & John Seymour: Introducing NLP (Element 2002).

Everyone needs a platform for their writing and finding the right fit for your time, genre, cashflow, audience and I.T capabilities can be difficult.

Three weeks into teaching at my local U3A and there is a group of very interesting and interested writers some using Instagram for the first time, some creating blogs on WordPress and one group have published on Amazon, yes in just three weeks!

Instagram was a keen favorite with some individuals because it is what it says, instant! It is also very simple to use, set up and a great way to share excerpts and blogs.

When the course started there were some conversations about not being computer savvy but that was simply confidence that needed building.

Teaching is a pleasure when the recipient is responsive and that is obviously a result of teaching what is relevant and creating confidence.