Category: blogging

To the Man who failed me..

Three words come to mind when I think of my Dad.

Narcissist, Selfish and Liar.

These days I have developed a love/hate relationship with my Dad, and to be frank with you it is leaning more towards hate. Growing up  I lacked a positive male role model and this was pretty evident when it came to the type of man that I would attract. There is this understanding that Father’s often influence the men we choose as partners. Thankfully, after several dud relationships and a lot of self love I was able to find and marry a genuinely lovely man and now share two gorgeous boys together.

Dad failed me before I was even born. When my Mum was several months pregnant with me, she discovered that he was having an affair with an another woman/women. I don’t know much about what actually happened during this time, but I remember being told a by Mum. She phoned him at the local Pub and threatened murder if he did not call it off! I was only a couple of weeks old at this point.

Dad failed me as a child.
He was an alcoholic, gambler, womanizer and chain smoker. Thinking back to when I was seven or eight, I remember coming home from school, and I was made to run to the laundry to fetch a bucket for him to vomit into. There was this other incident where I came home with my Mum to find him passed out naked on the floor of our lounge, head phones still attached to his head. This was the norm for us. Each afternoon after school, I would be given a gold coin and spend at the local Milk Bar. This was mostly done to keep me out of the house so he could drink until he was drunk. I also forgot to thank him for high dental bills due to regular fillings. Thank goodness for Health Insurance as I simply could not afford the bill.

His alcoholism was so bad that he hid his cans of beer in the cistern of the toilet and threw his evidence over the fence, into the back alley. There were so many, they required several large garbage bags after a neighbor demanded them removed. At the peak of his addiction he drank methylated spirits just so he could get that hit. He almost lost his job as a signalman for the Victorian Railway because he often went and continued to drink at work.

For obvious reasons his addiction placed pressure on his marriage to my Mum, so the fights and arguments were pretty gargantuan. I would be screaming, tears streaming down my face yelling at them to stop fighting. Mum once knocked him unconscious with a vacuum pipe, and even though it had a huge bend in the pipe it still continued to work well. I once got in the way of their argument. Dad grabbed me by my hair and aimed it at our glass sliding door causing it to crack. Plus at the peak of their fighting, knives were once drawn. Dad was warned by the Victorian Police that if another DVO was submitted then he would be removed from the home and would likely spend a short period of his life in jail. This was my life…

Dad failed me as a young woman.
Thankfully by then Dad had given his alcohol addiction away. However having an addictive personality it was always replaced with something else. I was troubled, and made very poor and uninformed choices, mostly because of my toxic home environment.

Have you heard about the cycle of domestic abuse? This is what I learnt and experienced during my very first relationship with a boy. I was fifteen when I first met him, he was a good eighteen months younger than me. Looking from the outside, he came from a well off and intelligent family however he was an abusive, controlling, manipulative and jealous young man. I was never given insight on how to respect myself or gain the respect of others, especially from boys. Looking back, its sad that I would have preferred to spend time with an awful boyfriend than be with my family. Plus the fact that nothing was done to help me.

Dad failed me as a woman.
Dad continued to have affairs, and this is what broke the camels back for my Mother. I was and remain thankful that their marriage was finally over. It was sweet relief, because honestly it was all I ever wanted. I wanted normalcy, I wanted the dysfunction to end, and most of all I hoped that I would have a better relationship with both my parents. There has been turbulent times with my Mum, but our relationship has just continued to blossom. I love her dearly, and it is nice to know that she is so thankful to have me as her daughter. However the relationship I now have with my Dad has only deteriorated further. Mostly after the way he treated my son Lucas when he was last visiting. He is known as Grumpy Poppy which is just sad.

Dad has failed me today.
I have two gorgeous sons, one he has met and one he is yet to meet. You see, I live in Perth and he lives in Brisbane so there is no denying that the distance is great. But, his partner and her mother will be flying to Perth next year, and he has decided not to come. He was even offered to have his flight paid for by his new mother in law. This broke my heart, and yet after having a confrontation with him he still chooses not to come. I have gotten to a point in my life where I think to myself if he was just not related to me, I would not pursue a friendship at all. So…why should I pursue a relationship with a man who chooses not to reciprocate my love?

What I am thankful for today. I am thankful for who I am. I like me…no, I love me. If it was not for my dysfunctional upbringing, I would not be the person I am today. I am a helper, I am a doer, and I love those who love me unconditionally. I am thankful that my sons have a positive role model, and I am thankful that I have a husband who respects me.

Thank you Dad for teaching me resilience, compassion, empathy, developing a thick skin, and having the ability to speak out. However I am not thankful for how I acquired these traits.

I feel better, I needed this post.

Much love

Melanie xx

 

 

Mastitis Bites!

Breastfeeding mothers can understand the fear of getting Mastitis. When you are discharged from hospital, the midwife drills into your long term memory bank the side effects of mastitis and how can it become a serious illness. This is a bloody good thing as it’s probably one of the worst thing I’ve experienced postpartum.

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So last week I woke up around midnight with a terrible ache in my right breast. The pain traveled from my nipple through to my armpit, and I could barely lift my arm above my head. So I decided to wake Flynn up, hoping and praying that he could unblock my clogged milk duct because I didn’t have time to get sick.Well… apparently I was a bit of a bitch that night because I snapped at Chris whilst he was soundly sleeping. He is probably right though, I don’t do well with sickness and pain. I am always quick to Google what’s wrong with me, which is a terrible habit and it induces my anxiety further.

After Flynn was fed I went back to sleep, only to wake up feeling worse and it continued to progress throughout the day. It wasn’t until the afternoon that I developed a large red lump and then the fever set in. The aches and pains were horrendous. I called the Australian Breastfeeding Association, and we both agreed that I should begin my antibiotics. Thank God, because I woke up later that night with a high temperature and a chill had set in. I was chattering away whilst trying to encourage Flynn to feed, and then once he had finished I was trying stealing some warmth from Chris’s body.

I still didn’t feel any better the following day, I was actually worse. I could barely stand, fever over 39 degrees Celsius, dizzy spells and even some nausea. I spent my day laying on the lounge or in bed. Thankfully by that night, the symptoms eased and then I woke up the next day feeling more like myself. I was out of it for three whole days and I even considered taking a trip to the emergency department so I could get the intravenous antibiotics.

So what really helped me through Mastitis was hot and cold compresses. Also feed, feed feed and pump, pump, pump! The process that I developed was to warm my breast with a hot cloth, feed, bump and then place a cold pack over the lump. I even pumped on my all fours, which made me feel like a bloody cow. But hey.. it worked and I’m thankful that I’m better. I’m now also taking a tablet called Lecithen, which apparently helps with the stickiness of the milk and prevents the milk ducts from getting blocked. I’m willing to try anything to prevent that from happening again.

So mums and mums to be, don’t sit on mastitis. Act fast, otherwise you may end up in hospital and it can end your breastfeeding journey.

Much love

Melanie xx

The Art of Conversation

It’s been a while since I’ve seen my mum and dad. I think the last time was when Mel and I got married in October 2013 (the 11th for those playing at home!). We don’t even talk that much on Skype or FB chat. Truth is, besides a very select number of really close friends, I don’t really talk to anyone. I don’t really feel the need.

As confusing as it may seem to people that know me quite well, as my mouth is usually always going. Trust me, it is something I’m trying to work on!

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To paraphrase the above quote from Plato, It’s better to be a person of wisdom, instead of someone who has been struck down with a bad case of prolixity. I have a massive tendency to drift off course and give too much detail in stories that it usually ends up being this long, drawn out meandering tale of nothing. Which is kind of what I’m doing now, so back on track with this train of thought! The whole purpose of me getting on here was to tell you about the impending visit of Nanny and Poppy, and Poppy’s sister and brother-in-law, my Aunt and Uncle.

Unfortunately, good communication is something of a shortfall when it comes to family and friends. I tend to only chat to them when I have something to say. I guess I don’t see the point in just saying ‘Hi’ for the sake of it. I’d much rather not speak to you at all for a few months, then have an awesome conversation about what we have both been up to, than speak a few times a week and have the same old conversation. It’s also probably one of the main reasons that it takes me ages to write a blog post.

I also just spent far too long looking for a picture of an example. But I think you all get the point.

It will be a great opportunity to spend some time with my folks and for them to see not only Lucas, but their new grandson, Flynn. Without placing labels, Mel and I are pretty slack when it comes to every grandparent’s favourite communication method, Skype. The video chatting platform is an amazing tool when used effectively, or if you’re anything like me, it’s viewed as a form of cruel torture. Forcing you to stay in one spot so that you can actually see how bored the other person is with your conversation too!

Quite possibly, I’m just having one massive whinge about keeping in touch with family. Yes, I agree it should be done, but it should be done under our own volition. Not through some feeling of obligation to the other person. Will this ruffle some feathers? Maybe. You’ll survive though. You’re pretty tough on the other side of the internet and this is my page, and my opinions. Hah!

Whether we like it or not, there is an insurmountable amount of pressure put on us (internal and external) to be a certain kind of person or to behave a certain way. It’s up to us, and us alone to determine who we want to be in order to lead a life we value. Do I want to be the kind of person who is talking to you all the time about nothing? No. Absolutely not. Do I want you to message me ‘just to see how I am’? Nope. Do I want to talk about how you and I can change the world, or your hopes and dreams for the the future? Yes, absolutely! Do I want you to call or message me when you genuinely need a friend or a helping hand. Absolutely, 100%, yes!

Am I guilty of all of these. Once again, yes.

So from this moment on, let us declare our own war, before the new POTUS has his chance!
A war on shitty conversations about shitty things, that in the grand scheme of things don’t really matter.
Let us have conversations of substance, meaning and passion so that we can push our friendships into new, uncharted territory.

Peace out!

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