The Funny Mumblings Issue #27

Interuppted Uterus Farewells, Empty Nest Grief and Community Giggles

My littlest being born just last night I mean sorry 2009.

Hello you human wonder-nugget!

So this week I was meant to be having my uterus disposed of: my kids’ original home, condemned and decidedly un-heritage listed.

However, life had other plans and a pesky head-cold meant rescheduling. Annoying for sure, but I realise I’ve possibly been given a cosmic mercy, as today my youngest has been packing up his room in preparation for his next chapter. And so you see I’ve dodged a bullet: for how could I possibly recover from being split open not in just one way, but two at the same time?

Anyhoo, I wrote a lil poem. Ehem. I posted it publicly and it’s had a beautiful response so thought I’d share it here.

Just last night

I held you to my chest

all soft and snugly

and fresh and sweet

and I thought “I know you.”

Just last night

we cheered you on

all four of us

and basked in your delight

as you took your first wobbly steps.

Just last night

we cheered you on

all three of us

and basked in your victory

as you heeded your brother’s words

and didn’t look back

and flew down the field

and claimed that blue ribbon

and you might as well have won Olympic gold

we screamed so loud

and jumped so high.

Just last night

you came home sweaty and exhausted

from yet another day of rock climbing

yet another day of mountain biking

yet another day of skateboarding

yet another day of jujitsuing

then launching into a shower so long

I could watch Kill Bill

- parts one AND two -

before you finally responded to my knocks

with anything other than

“Just two more minutes.”

Just last night

we were snuggled on the couch

reading Olivia

watching Shera

reading Harry Potter

watching Friends

reading Harry Potter again

watching Bojack Horseman

(and you were right, I loved it).

Just this morning

you sort your things into piles

op shop

old uniforms

things to keep

and you roll your eyes when I say

“You can put what you’re taking in a suitcase.”

“I know, Mum.”

“Are these deodorants all finished? They can go in the bin.”

“ I know, Mum.”

“Your old calculator has to be in here somewhere.

Maybe with your box of old school stuff?”

“Mum,” you say.

“I know.”

Just last night

you were snuggled in my arms

my fingers stroking through your curls

as I marvelled at how it could be

I had managed to create

the most beautiful and

the most sweet natured and

arguably the most Canadian

child on this earth.

Just last night

we landed back in Canada

your birthplace

with which you’ve been obsessed your whole life

every school project

every sight of a maple leaf

every mention of it

emboldening you to announce with pride

“I’m a comedian!”

we’d no sooner pulled into a Walmart car park

than you ripped open the door

and dived headfirst into

a pile of shovelled snow

so ecstatic and overjoyed

that I felt like a Grinch trying to explain that

there was plenty more - and better -

where that came from

and that this was like a Canadian coming to Australia

and trying to surf in a puddle.

Just this morning

we pick out your subjects

and I am so happy

and so excited

and so proud

and so awe-struck

and so sick with grief at the realisation that

this is it and

it is done.

Just this morning

I learned that what felt like forever

has only been a blink.

Just last night you arrived

Just this morning you leave

and I want to tell you everything

I want to give you a wish

a blessing

I want you to thrive

and explore

and adventure

and bloom into exactly who you long to be

I want you to find meaning

and spend your time with great people who light you up

and listen

and make you better

and I want you to get outside

and take care of yourself

and I don’t mean just to function independently

I mean to actually care about yourself

to eat food that makes you feel good

to get into nature

to appreciate sleep for what it allows you to do when you’re awake

Just this morning

I want to tell you all this

and so much more

and I’m panicking

what have I forgotten?

what lessons have I overlooked?

what wisdom

and advice

and tips

and hacks

and lessons learned

and

and

and

but it’s already this morning

and it’s too late

and besides

even if you wanted them

that’s just too much to fit in one suitcase

that you may or may not take

so instead

I ask about old deodorants.

Just last night

fresh in my arms

in a hospital bed

on a snowy Canadian night

I was rocked by a love for you

so powerful that

it shifted time itself

and now it is this morning.

“I love you. I love you, I love you,” I say

and you roll your eyes

“Mum,” you say. “I know.”

Community Giggles

Some of the latest things making us laugh in the good ole FB group:

Contributed by Stewart N

Contributed by Patricia G

Contributed by Jiindi J

Contributed by Hollie C

Contributed by Patricia G

Contributed by Hannah B

Quick Chuckle-Spreading Hack

One of our Funny Mummies posted a pic of the epic shirt she wore into hospital on the morning of her hysterectomy, so naturally within minutes my hubby seized upon the inspo and ordered me this: can’t wait til I can bring some good juju into the hospital! Once the surgery’s done I’m thinking of passing it on “Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants” style. Anybody keen? Imagine if it went global?!!!!!!

Til next time, wishing you all the good vibarinos and hoping that even amidst the biggest stress, you can find the funny. It’s in there somewhere!

PS Enjoyed this e-news? How about forwarding it to a frazzled friend?