Our story.

Each year, on valentines we attempt to do something really thoughtful for each other. To us it's not about spending hundreds of dollars that we don't have on things we don't need, it's about bringing out the best in our relationship, you know the best days. Lets face it, we all have days where walk in the door and fall in a heap. We also have days when we leap into each others arms and smoother each other with love. On valentines day, we ensure it's the latter.

This year I made James a collage, as well as a little gift a comic.
Thanks to Frankie Magazine I was able to make a visual story for James depicting our lives together.

Our story.
Two lonely hearts, beating in sync. They entered a bar one fateful night. Little did they know where it would lead. Drink after drink, after drink after drink, they swallowed their sorrows with no knowledge of each other. One boy; destined to join the navy, leaving the weekend after next, celebrating with his friends, wanting for something more. One girl; working in a pizza shop, playing guitar just for fun, partying with her friends, thinking there must be more. A glimpse. A photo. No words. Another drink. A kiss. No response expected. A response. Another kiss. He leaves tomorrow. She's busy with friends. He calls, she answers. She doesn't normally talk on the phone, he doesn't have much time for phone calls between drills and duties.
She musters up her courage, she wants to know where she stands. It could have gone badly, she could have scared him off. But no. She's texts of course, too chickened to call. It's hard not being 15, not asking if they want to "go out." She asks, "friends or more?" He wants more. She smiles, "order up." Another Friday at work.
They continue to chat, she falls for him as he falls for her. She tells a friend that she is in love, her friend warns not to tell him, "you'll scare him off." That night he tells her that he loves her. Her heart stops, as does his. In sync once again.
Months after months they continue to fall. He is posted interstate, to Canberra, she is torn. Does she go, her friends say no but her heart says yes. He proposes, she says yes. "A long engagement", they explain, they've only been together a year and they are barely twenty. She goes interstate with him, she was always going with him. He is pleased but he knew she would, he always new she would.
They begin to build a home, their first home. Everything is so simple, but fun. Nothing like other relationships they've had before. They fight, of course they fight. But with every bad day another hundred good follow. A baby? They've been wanting one for a while and throw caution to the wind. Trying, without trying. No baby; months pass, then a year. "Next year we'll try properly, see a doctor, get an explanation." They get a dog, she fills the void. Their first baby. Pandora. A month later, the double lines; a baby.
Then a posting, a new location, a new home to build. They make a home, her belly grows, he goes to sea, her belly grows, she goes to Melbourne, her belly grows, he comes home, her belly grows, and then a baby. Their baby.
They didn't know they had more love to give, they did. So much more. To him, to each other.
Everyday a new adventure. He goes to sea again. She misses him dearly. He does not miss her any less than he once did, instead he has more longing in his heart. They survive, he comes home. This happens a few times more.
They wed in the winter, on their fourth anniversary. She takes his name, he has already taken her heart. It's relaxed, very them. No big dress, no church. But them, and most of those that they love. Perfection. Life gets easier once they are married, their relationship does not change one bit but she is trusted more as a mother by society. Easier, not different between their four walls but changes on the outside. They love being married, more than they knew they would. They love their honeymoon, best time of their life. They took their son, of course they did.
Time passes, they fall into place. She finishes uni. He works so very hard.
A new posting, a new home, their old home; Canberra, their first home together. A new adventure. This time they do not need to build a home, their home is truly built between the four of them.

I'd love for you to share your story.

I live to let you shine.

Sometimes I just watch him, silently, in awe of who he has become.

The first time I held Oliver I didn't know what to think. I don't think I loved him right away. I felt pretty shit about that but I'd lost 3 litres of blood and I was pretty unwell. I hear that's pretty common. It didn't last long anyway, and I nurtured him from the first moment. Maybe I did love him, maybe I just didn't know him. Maybe I was just scared shitless.

Everyday since then I have loved him more and more. I never think it's possible, I think my heart won't cope another's day expansion. But when James wakes me in up in the morning by placing a very excited toddler on my bed and he crawls up and kisses me on the face, then proceeds to roll on my head and nestle in for cuddles, there goes my heart again.

Bigger, stronger, fuller. 

When James is away sometimes I think I can't do another day. But then I hear him call, I see the way his face lights up when I enter the room and there I am.

Willing, able, wanting.

He talks to us. He doesn't say words but he talks and talks. He mimics us and the way we speak. He is exactly James on the phone, very firm and serious. He is me when he doesn't get his way, determined and frustrated. He is himself when he plays, talking to himself, pointing, questioning, "what's that?"

I couldn't be anyone other than Oliver's mother. I want the world to be a better place, I have resorted back to my political ways. Not for myself, but for my son. I want him to have what we had. No, better! I want him to have nature, a strong economy, and the right to marry whoever he wants. I want him to know that just because a child is born into poverty it doesn't mean they are lesser than us, that they shouldn't be educated, or fed, or survive. I want him to think, not worry, but think about the world.

I want him to dance to the beat of his own drum. He's so quirky. He sings loudly in supermarkets, he says hello and goodbye to everyone, even inanimate objects- but shies away when they say it back. He claps when he does something he is proud of, he claps when we do something he likes. He is still so fond of Pandora. He does what his heart tells him to do, with no ambitions, just desire.

He is so pure. His actions are his own. Perhaps encouraged by us, but with no real influence. He just does things because that's what he wants to do. He farts loudly in a crowded restaurant and then claps, because it feels nice. We all know it feels nice, but we hold it in. Society says no. My husband says no!

Fifteen months ago I was handed my wonderful baby boy for the first time. I didn't know who he would become but I knew he would be wonderful.

He is fire, burning bright. He shines and his energy is contagious. He is smart and strong, determined and loud. He does not fit in, or go unnoticed. He is a presence, he is compassionate, empathetic, interested, curious and fun. He laughs and looks so proud when he makes others laugh. His love could set your soul on fire, and he kisses with his entire face.

I couldn't dream of raising him as anything other than who he is and I hope he hangs on to his childhood for as long as he can. We are certainly going to ensure he can hold it tight for as long as possible.

He is my little Oliver J, and he is perfect in every way.

Sometimes I just sit and watch, and feel so proud of who he has become, who we have allowed him to become.

The best way to describe motherhood to me is this beautiful song by Gregory and the Hawk, Boats and Birds.

I hope it sends your heart a flutter.



Mama J
xx