Friday, 3 February 2012

The Cup.

I saw this cup in a shop  and thought, now that is a cup with superpowers.

And it is.

I thought of all the cups of tea and coffee it would hold for me. I love how it's black and peacocky and odd-shaped ... and that I didn't buy the set. Only one.

It's magic. It helped me through some of the hardest nights of my life, these past few months.

I've grown more stronger than I have ever been .. learnt the difference between having strength and being tough. Had to wear my Converses for a while, instead of my cowboy boots. Huge difference.

According to maths, pain gives birth to wisdom. Which makes me confucious right about fucking now. It won't last - nothing ever does. But today, all is well.

Last night I had strange dreams and woke feeling fuzzy and flat. Most mothers take their kids to playdates ... I take mine to recovery meetings! Rocco played with the dollhouse and puzzles, looking up every now and then with curiosity as the speakers changed. He asked me to look at the picture of a guy he drew, I watched as he lifted the chalk and did some really quick scribbling ... "THIS IS HIS FART MUM."

He cuddled me and played my phone until it went flat. The big words of strangers was delivered somewhere into his subconcious. I was asked to share and found myself talking about the day of his birth. And family dynamics. And relapsing. And death and big decisions, Spirit, hope. I have no qualms that he heard me. My theory is, children feel a sense of safety hearing the truth, even if it's hard.

Both of my babies are recovery babies. In my time in the world, I have seen children in places they had no business being. And then again in rehabs and halfway houses, still scared and worried but with a hope in their eyes that their parents might make it this time.

A lot of the time, the parents don't.

Today me and Rocco drove home and put on party hats and read books about koalas. I made two coffees in a row in my magical superpower cup and Rocco called from his room.
"Mum, be here with me now. I need you."


I am starting a meme here tomorrow ... it came from my own brain and everything! Hanging to see what you all come up with and will be visiting the blogs of everybody who links up. I need to give some love back.

(My actual real-life Aunty Mooch sells the magic cups from her bloody amazing shop in the Central Coast called Moochinside You can say her favourite weirdo niece Eden sent you.)


1 comment:

  1. Love that post. Such truthful words. That boy of yours is a treasure. He's lucky to have you xx


Write to be understood, speak to be heard. - Lawrence Powell

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