The Test of Time

They say friends come and go and only very special friends stay throughout your life. I think this is, for the most part true. There are friends which come, go and then return sometimes years later. With modern technology and social networking websites this has become a more common occurrence. It’s interesting how some people stay very much the same as they were when you were last friends and how some are completely different. The only danger is when you think they’ve change and they haven’t or vice versa.

I think the best test of friendship over the years has to be whether you are still friends through both of you changing your opinions about things, differing in how you see things and various other relationships which can get in the way (especially romantic relationships).

Friendship is all about give and take. Knowing when to do one and not the other is what holds friendships together over the span of years. This doesn’t mean that friendships don’t have their ups and downs, their fights and disagreements. It’s only natural, especially with close friends. All it means is that sometimes you have to agree to disagree and give over to the fact that the other person isn’t going to change their mind.

When I think about the friends I have, I also come to realise that even though I have many friends whom I have know for many years, they are separated out into little groups with which I share a common interest. The hardest thing is realising that the friends in one group may not get one with the friends in another because we are not the exact same person with every set of friends we have.

So be kind to your friends, understand their point of view even if you don’t agree with it and don’t be too harsh on them when they do things that are idiotic in your eyes because you’ve probably something just as idiotic in their eyes. If you can do those things, then hopefully you’ll have a friend for life.

Why I am in love with Craig Ferguson (or The Appeal of the Older Gentleman and Other Relationship Quandaries)

I know the psychology behind being interested in men that are significantly older (I’m talking 15 plus years here). It’s the whole absentee father thing. I get that. I am that girl. My dad was not around for a lot of my childhood. I’m not denying that it’s probably shaped the way I view men and the desire to have a nurturing male figure in my life. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest that I have a thing for older men. I’m not saying that it’s a good or bad thing. Just that it’s a thing. It’s also a thing I happen to have.

The other aspect to being attracted to older men is that they appear to be more stable, more reliable and definitely more mature. Because women tend to mature earlier than men do, they gravitate towards men who are at the same maturity level as them. I’m not sure if this applies to me. I think I matured in reverse. I was very much 14 going on 40. I think I am now 31 going on 13. So maybe this applied when I was younger but not so much now. Go figure.

As a teenager, I had the usual crushes on teachers and celebrities. Except they weren’t the usual crushes. It was normal, in that I had crushes. It was also abnormal, in that the object of my affections tended to be significantly older than myself. Most of the girls I went to school with thought older was, at most, 5 years their senior. For me, it was at least 5 years my senior. The boys my age didn’t really do anything for me, not like the men I knew did.

At the time of writing this, my main celebrity crushes are Craig Ferguson and Tim Roth. Noticing a theme? Both born in the UK. Both old enough to be my father. Oh, and they both have a slightly troubled quality to them, whether they play a troubled character or have a troubled past, there is a slight element of that bad-boy lustre which is so endearing to me, but that’s just the mother hen coming out in me.

I know I am not going to meet either of these people, except under miraculous circumstances. I also know that I am not going to have any kind of relationship with them, except under the most extraordinary of miraculous circumstances. They merely represent the type of man I seem to be attracted to, more so than any other at least. I wouldn’t say no to meeting them, and I definitely wouldn’t say no to a relationship with either of them, but the chances are somewhat less than likely. In fact, probably significantly less than likely.

Tim Roth plays characters that are the ultimate in bad boys. His eyes just burn into you. One look from him and you just fall to your knees in obedience. It’s that look which seems as if he sees into your soul. He’s got cult leader written all over his face. Obviously, this is based purely on the characters he plays. He plays that touch of evil so well it’s scary. It drives the bad girl side of me nuts. I want to let myself be swept up in his personality. And it’s a huge personality.

I am in awe of Tim Roth. I do not know how he finds the traits of personality that combine to make his characters. What I do know is that every performance I see of his leaves me wanting more. He is masterful. I am completely captivated by his performances. But he pales into insignificance when compared to the irrepressible Craig Ferguson.

Craig is, in my honest opinion, one of the most brilliant comedians on the face of the planet. He also wins as the best talk show host of all time (no exceptions, not even Oprah). I love his whole sarcastic, self-depreciating sense of humour. I love that he is nuts. I love that he can hold an intelligent conversation with someone without the need for cue cards. I love that he is irreverent and unconcerned with people’s opinions of him and doesn’t pander to his guests opinions, if he doesn’t agree he will say so. I also love that he is not ashamed to admit he has had problems in the past, with regards to his drinking and drug taking. Basically, I just love him. I also love that he is a father and he is realistic about what life is like as a father. I wish he weren’t married, but that’s a whole other topic.

Actually, it’s probably not another topic. I always want the guys I cannot have and what is more unavailable than a married man (apart from a married man who is also a celebrity)? Plus the fact that most attractive, heterosexual blokes who are over the age of 35 and interested in settling down are already settled. It kind of limits my pool of eligible gentlemen. I suppose when it comes to celebrities it doesn’t really matter if they’re married or not because it’s not going to happen anyhow.

I know that I wouldn’t be in a relationship with a married man. It’s not just that it’s morally wrong, it’s emotionally draining. I started dating a man who, unbeknownst to me at the time, was married. When he told me, I was crushed. Completely and utterly devastated. It felt like he’d ripped my heart out. Even though I thought I loved him I told him that I would not be the other woman, he would have to leave his wife or lose me. Naturally he chose his wife. They always do and I knew that he would, in the back of my mind, but it still hurt like nothing else.

I would never deliberately steal away someone’s husband (of course, if they left their wife for me, that’s a whole different story, but we’ve established that this doesn’t happen). This isn’t to say that I haven’t had crushes on married men, or that I haven’t flirted with them. It’s just that I wouldn’t put myself through the heartache of the inevitable rejection. The five minutes of fun is not worth anything.

In real life, most of the guys I’ve dated have been around my age, with the exception of my first boyfriend who was 14 years my senior. I think this is part of the reason why I like older men. None of the guys who are my age turn out very well. It surely can’t be my fault that every guy I’ve dated has left me. Oh, wait. It can. (This, ladies and gentlemen, is another explanation for why I am in love with Craig Ferguson, we even speak in the same fashion … though that may have something to do with the fact that I’ve been a fan of his for over 15 years and have picked up on his idiosyncratic manner of speaking.)

Honestly, everyone has a type. They might find a lot of different people attractive, with different looks and styles but everyone has a type they simply cannot resist. Mine just happens to be this: Scottish-American recovering substance abusers with the odd tattoo who are extremely intelligent and funny yet self-depreciating and have a proven record in fathering abilities. It narrows the field a little, I’ll admit, but a damn fine field it is and I wouldn’t change it for the world.

You’ll notice I haven’t really said anything about how a guy looks. This is because it doesn’t really bother me if a guy is pleasant or stunning or just average. To be perfectly frank, if I didn’t know who Tim Roth and Craig Ferguson were and they passed me on the street I might not give them a second glance because it’s their personality that has enthralled me and made me want them so badly. Actually, I would give them a second glance because they are good looking but I might not give them a third. I know some truly gorgeous looking blokes but wouldn’t want to date them because their personality does not gel with mine. Of course there has to be some physical attraction but for me, that is hugely secondary to their personality.

I do wish I could clone Craig Ferguson. Not in the scientific sense but in the science-fiction sense. I want an exact duplicate of him, looks and personality identical. He is, to me, what a partner should be: funny, intelligent, modest, creative, loving, quirky, fatherly, honest and a touch sarcastic. The trouble with having such a lofty ideal is that it is hard to measure up. And if I cloned him (in the aforementioned science-fiction sense) then his current wife could keep one and I could have the other … we just won’t mention that I plan on taking the original.

Really, when it comes down to it, if your partner doesn’t share (or at least tolerate) your sense of humour then there’s no point continuing. I have a very dry, sarcastic wit, if you can call it that. I’ve had boyfriends who have cited this as part of the reason they were breaking up with me. The humour you share is so important and if you don’t understand or like your partner’s humour then you’re going to have a very tough time of it, I think. This is not to say you have to find all the same things amusing, but there has to be some common ground to work with.

In the end all most of us want in a relationship is someone who makes us happy and who makes us feel safe. Whether they are your own age, 15 years older or 15 years younger, it doesn’t matter. Love is what matters.

Single Parenting

OK, so let’s get something straight. By societies definition, I am a single parent. In reality, I am single in the sense of my relationship status but by no means am I single in the parenting duties. I am lucky enough to live with my wonderful mother. She allows me the freedom to work in my chosen profession, with it’s odd hours, by taking on the role of co-parent.

Without my mum I don’t know how I’d manage. She’s done more school drop offs and pick ups than I can remember. She’s transported him to after school activities and doctor’s appointments. She’s been like a live-in nanny. An unpaid, live-in nanny. And technically I’m the live-in because it’s her place.

The problem with being single and a parent and living at home is that it’s very hard to find a decent bloke. I don’t know how other single parents do it. I don’t know where they find a partner, let alone how they hang on to them. Maybe it’s just me. I’ve been told by previous boyfriends that I’m not very good girlfriend material. Maybe it’s true. Maybe I’m not supposed to be in a relationship and should just settle for what I’ve got. Maybe it’s greed but it just doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

There’s a lot to be said for being single. It means not having to compromise on anything. I can choose what parenting style I want to employ. I can choose what sports Bubba plays. I can choose where we go on holidays.

I have always been a single parent. Bubba's biological father has never been in the picture. I hope one day he can have a father who is there for him, especially when he needs a good kick up the backside. Until that happens I am, in a way, both mother and father. I just hope I get the mixture right.

There’s also a lot to be said for having someone to help out with the parenting. With mum taking on those duties, if I get overwhelmed, she’s there to give me a break. If I need advice, she’s there (and sometimes giving it even when I don’t ask for it or want it). But there are some duties that mum can’t take on. And there are some generational problems when it comes to parenting styles that just can't be bridged, no matter how much you love each other.

I guess I’ll just have to keep looking for Mr Right ... any takers?

The Test of Time

They say friends come and go and only very special friends stay throughout your life. I think this is, for the most part true. There are friends which come, go and then return sometimes years later. With modern technology and social networking websites this has become a more common occurrence. It’s interesting how some people stay very much the same as they were when you were last friends and how some are completely different. The only danger is when you think they’ve change and they haven’t or vice versa.

I think the best test of friendship over the years has to be whether you are still friends through both of you changing your opinions about things, differing in how you see things and various other relationships which can get in the way (especially romantic relationships).

Friendship is all about give and take. Knowing when to do one and not the other is what holds friendships together over the span of years. This doesn’t mean that friendships don’t have their ups and downs, their fights and disagreements. It’s only natural, especially with close friends. All it means is that sometimes you have to agree to disagree and give over to the fact that the other person isn’t going to change their mind.

When I think about the friends I have, I also come to realise that even though I have many friends whom I have know for many years, they are separated out into little groups with which I share a common interest. The hardest thing is realising that the friends in one group may not get one with the friends in another because we are not the exact same person with every set of friends we have.

So be kind to your friends, understand their point of view even if you don’t agree with it and don’t be too harsh on them when they do things that are idiotic in your eyes because you’ve probably something just as idiotic in their eyes. If you can do those things, then hopefully you’ll have a friend for life.

The Dreaded Peanut Allergy

It’s probably the most frustating thing that can happen to a child. Having an allergy of any discription means constant vigilance and denial of things that other children take for granted.

Bubba has two allergies. Peanuts and Kiwi Fruit. While the latter is not too much of a problem (store bought fruit salads and pavlovas are out of the question), the former is a huge problem.

These days it’s easy to know what products not to buy, they all have allergen information on the packets, but that’s half the problem. I went to buy a cake for Bubba’s 6^th birthday. There were about 8 different cakes in the local supermarket. 7 out of the 8 had “may contain traces of nuts” or “processed on machinary that also processes nuts” or variations on that general theme. This meant I had a choice of 1 cake. Not much choice at all.

What made it harder was that the 1 cake that I could buy was very plain and very adult. It was a chocolate mudcake with ganache decoration. The other 7 were covered in sprinkles and pictures of Cartoon characters and clowns. If you were a 6 year old, what would you rather? The compromise was that I bought some coloured icing and let him choose how I was going to decorate the cake. It worked out slightly more expensive (though a bit more fun) simply because there was no choice.

There were other options I could have gone with. I could have made a cake from scratch (well, from a packet at any rate) but after attempting that last year it’s probably better that I don’t. I could have gone to a cake shop that specialises in allergen free cakes but they are usually more expensive than what I ended up doing.

But it’s not just cakes though. Everything is the same. Museli bars and chocolates are prime examples. I know it’s just companies covering their backs so they don’t get sued. I can understand their thinking. It’s just something that Bubba and I have to live with and be thankful that he’s not anaphalactic.

Bubba has learnt he needs to ask if food has nuts in it, and he learnt it from an early age. I think it's important for children to take responsibility for their own medical issues. The thought that always went through my mind was, "what if he's at a friend's place and he has a reaction?" I am now confident in his ability to ask about what's in the food and to be able to check packaging for allergen information.

Luckily for me, Bubba's allergy is only activated after injesting peanuts or kiwi fruit. This means I can still enjoy peanut butter and thai food, though I still have to be careful about sharing cutlery. Hopefully he will grow out of his allergies but even if he doesn't at least I know he's on top of it.

The Commercialisation of Love and Religion

Let’s get something straight, I’m only a fan of Valentine’s Day when I’m in a relationship (to date this has happened a grand total of two times). For a die hard romantics, this is somewhat of a struggle. I like the idea of valentines. That is, sending an anonymous card or gift to someone asking them to be your valentine. I think it is very sweet. I also like the idea of having someone you care about showing you how much they care about you. I don’t think it’s something that needs to be heralded in by trumpets or splashed across the front page of the newspaper. Romance, for me, is about being swept off your feet. It’s not about the telling of the sweeping to anyone with half an ear.

Western society has taken commercialization just about as far as it can go. Shops have sales and specials to mark evry occasion known to man, and when they’re done they just seem to make them up. Merchandise for the various holidays and events throughout the year is ridiculous, with the pencils and toys and lollies and books and cards and balloons and underwear all shouting out, “look, I remembered, aren’t I wonderful?” In reality, I don’t need all those things. In fact, I don’t need any. All I want for Valentine’s Day is for someone to say, “I Love You.”

Don’t get the wrong impression. I am not against people giving their loved ones presents. I am just fundamentally jealous of the fact that they’ve found someone and I haven’t. I also feel like it’s being rubbed in my face, usually not deliberately but it’s still there, that feeling like all those people are parading around like five year olds and showing off how tremendously loved they are.

There is also the commercial pressure saying, “if you really love your girlfriend/boyfriend/husband/wife/partner then you’ll buy them this incredibly expensive item that they don’t really need.” Nothing says I love you like a 14 carat diamond ring, does it? I mean, really, what happened to a moonlit stroll along the beach or a candlelit dinner.

The same thing goes for Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Easter, Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas and New Year. They have all lost that spirit that makes them special. They have become over-commercialised and cheap. It’s no longer good enough for kids to make their parents a present, it now has to be something the other parent has to spend a fortune on.

Easter and Christmas have veered so far away from the religious traditions that if you ask most kids what the meaning of christmas is they’ll say “getting presents” or “Santa Claus”. I know we live in a multi-cultural society but what other religion would allow the non-believers to co-opt their significant festivals. Living in a western, predominantly Christian society, it beggars belief that the people who move here from other countries and cultures have the nerve to demand that Christmas and Easter celebrations be watered down and have the Christian elements of these holidays removed. If a westerner went to a predominantly muslim society and demanded that they make ramadam more friendly to non-islamic citizens, they’d either be laughed at or run out of town. Likewise, if the Jewish community were not allowed to celebrate Hannuka in it’s traditional way it would be classified as anti-semitic (and rightly so). So why is it ok to railroad Christian traditions?

The point I am trying to make is that by trying to sell festivals and holidays to a wider market you run the risk of loosing the meaning behind the festival or holiday. If you celebrate Christmas, do so for the right reasons, not just to get a present. If you’re not Christian, by all means celebrate the Christmas period but don’t deny the reason why the holiday exists in the first place. Just because you believe in a different God doesn’t give you the right to impose it on someone else. If you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, that’s awesome but St Valentine is the patron saint of lovers, not crass commercialisation, so show your loved one how much you love them in a heartfelt way, by telling them you love them.

The History of Humanity

Humanity is defined in two parts: humankind, civiliazation, people, human race; and kindness, charity, compassion, sympathy, mercy. It seems to me that humanity has lost its humanity. This is not to say that individuals cannot express their humanity; there are plenty of examples of individuals or even small groups showing all the traits of humanity. What I am saying is that society at large seems to have very little humanity.

It’s the old adage that courage is doing alone what you would do in front of a crowd. This can be seen as the difference between bravery and bravado. Most nations exhibit bravado, few exhibit bravery. They follow the pack decision. They succumb to peer pressure. This is not always a bad thing. It is not always a good thing either.

Crimes against humanity has been defined as “murder, extermination, enslavement, deportation, and other inhumane acts committed against any civilian population … or persecutions on political, racial, or religious grounds ...” (August 1945 Charter of the International Military Tribunal). A search through any history book will reveal the depth to which humanity has sunken. It would take millions of hours and more energy than I have to detail every example of how humanity has been by-passed for the sake of material gain.

One could make the claim that most of these examples would be one person or one small group of people who have influenced events to the extent that the nations humanity has suffered. One could also make the argument that society allowed those people and groups to rise to power in the first place, "all that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing" (Edmund Burke).

Jean Jacques Rousseau accused civilzation of being a corruption of humanity’s nature. It seems to be true that the more civilized a nation becomes the more it looses it’s humanity. Tribal communities seem to have a greater capacity for humanity that our cities of millions of people. The only times that nations seem to reach out a hand to help other nations is when the eyes of the world are upon them. Whether this be bravado or a reaction to the shame of inaction does not matter, it is not an immediate reaction from the heart. The true expression of humanity would be to help those who have no voice to call for help, without fear or favour.

The trouble with changing a society is that it takes time, so take the time to change your own behaviour. Only when we, as individuals, wear our humanity on our sleeve will our governments and other representative bodies follow suit. Embrace the kindness of strangers, be charitable and sympathetic in your actions and show compassion and mercy for your fellow travellers. The most important thing I would ask of anyone is to hold all of humanity to the same standard, regardless of colour, creed, religion or stupidity.

Diagnosis Dilemma

At two years of age my son (hence forward known as Bubba) was diagnosed with Autism. At the time I didn’t know whether I was going to be an accepting parent or a parent who lives in denial. Truth is, I am both and somewhere in the middle and neither.

Bubba had a speech delay. People say boys speak later. Don’t worry about it. He’ll speak in his own time. But I took him to a paediatrician who made the diagnosis and sent him to therapy. I had no problem with getting him into speech therapy. I did have a problem with him being diagnosed as autistic. I was afraid of him being labelled and treated differently. I also thought that the paediatrician’s diagnosis was based on unreliable techniques.

Asking a child who has a speech delay to name something is ridiculous. Asking a child to warm to a complete stranger and feel comfortable enough to follow instruction by that stranger in a matter of minutes is ridiculous.

I decided to accept the diagnosis for the time being. It meant Bubba got the help he needed for his speech delay and I got additional help from his preschool and school. I also decided to do some research of my own. There is such a large amount of contradictory reference material it makes it nearly impossible for a layperson to understand what the diagnosis really means.

As I read through the materials, the list of characteristics astounded me. I had exhibitted or did exhibit a lot of them myself. Did this mean that I was an undiagnosed Austism sufferer? Had I genetically passed on this to my son? Was it my fault? Did Bubba have to exhibit all the characteristics or only some of them? Did he have to exhibit them all the time or could they be dependent on the situation? There were a lot of questions and not many answers. While one theory of treatment would espouse one way of doing things, another would tell you another. Finding the answer would not be found in any book or on any website. It would only be found through trial and error, and finding what worked for Bubba.

At preschool his teachers were very good. They helped us to apply for funding for an aide for Bubba and worked with the speech therapist in helping him extend his vocabulary and his speech generally. He improved in leaps and bounds. Despite a few months of umming and ahhing Bubba was deemed ready to start school with his peers. It was a bit of a relief, really. I think he would have driven me nuts if he’d been at home another year.

Bubba is now 6 years old. He’s just finished his first year at school. He won the speech competition for his grade. He was elected to the SRC as well. If I hadn’t gotten him the help he needed he’d never have achieved those things. And while he stills exhibits a few Autistic tendancies (obsessiveness mainly – but really what child isn’t obsessive about something?) he seems to be the child all the other parents want.

He’s good with children of all ages. He doesn’t discriminate against people with disabilities (he has a child with Downs in his class and they are good mates). He’s a keen student – loves numbers to the point where he’s working at least a year above where he should be, watches documentaries just as intently as cartoons, and loves books – and polite to adults.

Of course, he also has his moments when I could happily throttle him. Now that he’s found his voice, I often wish he had an off button. If he’s not talking to me, or to his grandmother, or his toys, he’s just happily talking to himself, or singing to himself. Sometimes the incessant talking is more than I can handle and I’m glad to pack him off to school or escape to work to get away from it. And having a voice means he can also say NO and I DON’T WANT TO and all those other things which drive parents up the wall.

To all intents and purposes, Bubba is a normal and well-adjusted child. As scary as being diagnosed with Autism initially was, living with it is only as scary as you make it for yourself. Bubba doesn’t think he’s any different from the other children. He knows that some people have more trouble with things than other people (something some adults never learn) and he’s just lucky to be quite good at some things.

The same goes for myself. Living with a child with Autism is only as scary as you make it. My attitude would probably be different if Bubba was more severely affected by his Autism. Having worked is the disability industry with many Autistism Spectrum Disorders I can see that Bubba is fairly mild. Even so, I had the choice to accept or deny.

The answer is, of course, that in day to day life there is a measure of both. I accept that his has Autism to some degree and deny that it needs to affect him as he grows. I accept that there will need to be modifications to some activities when he comes up against something that his Autistic characteristics make harder but deny that I should treat him any differently than any other child. He still needs love and discipline, the same as every other child.