Anthony John ~ My pillar of strength

I have talked often, albeit briefly, of the man in my life Anthony - the Father to my two very beautiful Daughters. He is such an integral and important member of my family, of my life, and so I have had a strong desire to capture him in words. 

Anthony is so much more than just the Father of my children. He is the man who changed my life from one of distrust and loneliness to fulfilment, joy and trust. Prior to meeting Anthony I had not had the best experiences with men. I had been abused, taken advantage of, controlled and disrespected. I had very little faith in men and nearly no hope in finding one worth my time or respect. That was until I met Anthony, who saved me from a very controlling and uneasy relationship. Before we were ever together he convinced me, without being truly aware of what he was doing, to have the courage and strength to leave an unhappy and unhealthy environment.

With him by my side, I found an inner peace. I found the strength that I forgot I had and I found trust. Trust that not all men are bad and trust that this one was particularly special. I was to be his "goddess" and he to be my saviour.

Together we have created a beautiful and loving home and a healthy and happy environment for us both to grow, evolve and love. Over the past four and a half years we have had many absolute lows and hundreds of pure highs. The two of us are an unimaginable pair, yet we seem to be able to walk this life hand in hand with smiles on our faces and love in our hearts.

Anthony is calm, kind, gentle and even tempered. He has little to no need for materialistic belongings (other than his surf, snow and cricket apparel), he is very rarely sentimental. He is active, energetic and fun. He has a strong need to be outside and active in order to be happy. He is encouraging. He is thoughtful and loving, although sometimes lacks the right words to portray his hearts thoughts. He is quiet and some times shy. We are similar in so many areas - our sense of humour, our humanitarian beliefs, our goals in life. Yet we are so very different in others.

We have created two of the most beautiful and perfect little baby girls and together we will raise them to be strong willed, compassionate, gentle, kind and loving young girls and women. As co-parents we have many opposing views on how to raise our girls, but mostly we both want the same things for our children. For them to know what love is, to know that they always have a home with us and that they are safe to be whoever they want to be.

Anthony is one of the best Fathers I know. He plays an active part in our children's lives. Always making sure he see's them before he leaves in the morning and kisses them good night. He can be strict in areas, but only when their safety is in danger. He always plays a main role in their life and is fun and loving towards them both, equally. When I watche him, watching them, I know that my Daughters will never grow up to feel the distrust in men that I did. He is a great role model and the perfect Father that will teach them what a real man, a gentleman, is. 

We are equals, within our relationship, our parenting and our household. He is always willing to stand up and help me with the girls or the cooking or the household chores. He is a pillar in our family, he stands up and covers me when I have been unable. He never complains, just gets on with being the best man who know's how. He is always learning and always willing.

He works hard, loves hard and plays hard.

Anthony fills this home with smiles and encouragement. With love and gentleness. Together we have grown and we are forever learning how to better ourselves, for one another and for ourselves. He has filled my life with a joy that I never knew you could have. 

I am his goddess and he is my saviour
I love you, Anthony John, home is where your heart is.
xx

What is love?

I am not sure that I ever truly learnt what "love" means. For a man to love a woman, a woman to love a man. I have ideas about what I believe love should be like. I have a hollywood fantasy. I have expectations and I have beliefs. But I still dont think I know what love is.

I come from a family who came from broken families. As far as I know there is no history of a successful relationship on either side of my family. Both my parents came from parents who ended up apart and who exposed their children to treatment that is far less than what I consider to be love. I am not sure that they ever learnt what it means for a man to love a woman, a woman to love a man. 

I have been privy to love filled relationships, of course. But I was raised by my Mother. Not a Father and a Mother. My Mum met a man, who was there all along. My Step-Dad who is here no more. But he never raised us. My Mother raised us and so I was not exposed to how a Mother and a Father love each other, how they show that love and connection to their children. My Mother did the best she could with what she could and I know that she loves us. But the love between a Mother and her children is so very different to the love between a man and a woman. It is that love that I never learnt. 

Because of this, because I never learnt what love is, I have had a hard time throughout my life trying to navigate men, and women. Relationships, boundaries, expectations, friendships. To begin a relationship is frightening and confronting. To stay in a relationship is terrifying and testing. To be a part of the relationship, that is the part I find the most difficult of all. I don't know how to give myself to a relationship, to a man. To a friend. I don't know how to ask for help, if I need it. I don't know where to start or where to stop. Once I begin to rely on someone, I start to rely on them too much. I find myself pulling back, diving in, pulling back again. I push.  I push so very hard. A test maybe? To see how much they do love me? Then when they walk I always think to myself, see... they never loved you at all.

I don't know what love is and for that I need to apologise. I need to say sorry to the boys I dated in highschool. The ones that allowed themselves to love me. The ones I hurt and pushed away. I need to say sorry, to all the girlfriends I never made because I was busy allowing myself be hurt by the one girl I knew would never truly love me, I was busy thinking she was the only girl that would ever like me and so I shut myself off to any other. 

I need to say sorry to the men I dated post highschool. The ones whom thought we had a future together. The ones whom did love me, the ones I thought I loved in return, but never truly did. I need to say sorry to the girls I have made friends with, only to no longer be friends with. I don't know what love is and I have hurt so many people in my quest to find it.

I need to apologise. To so many people. But mostly I think I need to say sorry to myself. For being so afraid of love, of having someone love me, that I have spent my life pushing love away. I have spent my life, mostly alone. Because I don't know what love is, I have allowed myself to be treated badly. So very poorly. I allowed boys to take advantage of me and I allowed friends to belittle me. Never truly believing that I was anything more than the way they made me feel. Irrelevant. Small. Boring. I was used by plenty and that was okay with me because at least when I was being used I was feeling something, if only for a little while.

"We accept ourselves the love we think we deserve"
--Perks of Being a Wallflower

If I didn't know what love was then how could I expect to be treated with any. I owe myself an apology. The biggest apology of all. I am sorry that I allowed myself to live a life of such unimportance. I am sorry that I allowed myself to disregarded and abused. I am sorry that the child in me was treated so poorly, by me and by the people I thought I deserved. 

As I grow older, I am still navigating my way through love and through life. I am now aware of my patterns. Of my ability to push someone away, to hurt someone bad enough that they leave me. I know how difficult I make it to love me but I have been blessed. I have been so truly and completely blessed. 

I am blessed by a man who loves me. Some days I don't think he does. Some days I let my lack of understanding allow me to believe that he doesn't and I push him. I push him away, I hurt him, I test him. I hurt myself. He does love me and he never leaves. I can see in his eyes that he isn't going to leave. I can see him begin to break and confusion take over and I always continue to push and he just pushes me right back. Because he does love me. He may not love every part of me, I may hide away some parts and other parts are not loveable. But he loves me and he proves it every day in the way he holds my hand. The way he looks me in the eye. The way he knows that I just need him, even when I don't ask for him, he is there. Giving himself to me and when I throw it back at him, he just takes it back and protects it a little while and then he does the most amazing thing of all. He gives it back to me, he gives himself back to me, when he knows that I am ready again. 

I have been blessed by a man who is made up of the blood of fairies, the sweat of angels and the tears of saints. He is full of all the things you want to be full of. He is patient. He is kind and gentle. He is soft and caring. He is loving and supportive. He is mine and I am blessed. 

I may not know what love is but I have the most amazing teacher. I have a man who is willing to walk me through this life and show me what love is. He holds my hand through all the good parts and he carries me through all the hard stuff. He is always there, even when I am wishing him away. I may not know what love is but I am learning. 

I have a man who is willing to teach me what love is because he loves me and that is more than I ever could have dreamed of as a child. 

Happy Birthday Anthony

I know a man who deserves the world but expects so little.
I know a man with a heart made of gold.
I know a man with the kindest of eyes, eyes you can lose yourself in.
I know a man that is more than worth knowing.

He gave me his heart and I have given him mine and together we made a home, a family and a love that is like no other. It is ours. It is special. It is different. It is a little kooky and very misunderstood. It is us.

Our love is a great love of support, of encouragement, of gentle kindness and together we have turned our love into a child who holds every aspect that is dear to us. Our love is a great love of happiness, of smiles, of silliness and of heart. 

He is me and I am him and together we are us.

Happy Birthday My Honey... you make life brighter, you make smiles bigger and you make my heart swell. Having your hand in mine makes this crazy world, our crazy world and I know that we can do anything we want to just as long as we hold each other tight.

I love you
x

Towel Washing Day

Image Credit

It was towel washing day, one of my favourite washing days. Towel washing day normally equates a late night shower with the candles burning and music playing. Late night showers means me. Only me. No interruptions, just peace to enjoy the water running down my skin and thoughts twirling in my mind. Towel washing day is one of my favourite days. I get to have a shower, on my own. Without Evelyn in the room crying for my attention. Without Evelyn at my feet in the shower playing with her toys. Towel washing day, I savour, I celebrate and I enjoy every single drop of water that falls on my body. I then step out of the shower onto the fresh bath mat and I unfold that beautifully washed towel. I get a breath of sea salt and fabric softener. My favourite smell. And then I wrap that towel around my body and I enjoy the feeling of the freshly cleaned towel. 

Towel washing day is a magical day in my house. It is a day that I truly treasure and look forward to. It is my day to take my break and enjoy all the finer things in life. I get to forget, for just a few short moments, how everything in my life is now shared with my children. My children whom I adore and love with all my heart, but whom I also enjoy a moment away from. I forget that my body is no longer mine, it is Jelly's to live off, taking every nutrient for oneself and leaving me with the bare minimum. It is Evelyn's to climb on, to sit on, to nuzzle in to, to take comfort from. I get to forget that my food is no longer mine, it is Evelyn's to eat, to throw, to play with. My drink, that is her's too. 

My jewellery is hers to play with. My sleep time, is theirs, it is for Jelly to disturb and it is for Evelyn to post pone. My bed is a cubby to play within. My toilet time is a lesson in toilet paper, flushing toilets, potty training. My pencils are hers to draw with, because Mums are more fun than crayons. My underwear is Evelyn's, to pull on and stretch and play with. My mind is theirs, full of thoughts, worries, concerns and love for both of them. My spare time is their time. Motherhood is about sharing. We share our lives and our bodies and everything in between. I love to share with my children. Mostly I enjoy it, I get to teach Evelyn while I share my life with her and I am able to watch her learn. I love to share with my children.

But on towel washing day, I get to have my very own moment. I get to have my very own newly washed and neatly folded towel. It is mine and I will not share it. If you try to take it away from me, I will bite. Because this moment is only mine and I will be selfish.

Anthony learnt this lesson, the very hard way. On this particular washing day, my late night shower was an early afternoon shower. I had to share the bathroom with Evelyn and Anthony who were taking a bath. They were quietly playing while I closed my eyes and let the water fall, I drifted off into another world, a world where I am just Jess. That was, until I was awoken by the words 

We will just use Mummy's towel

My clean, fresh air with a little sea salt dried, fabric softened, folded towel was shaken awake and wrapped around the tiny body of my Daughter and I saw her enjoy the moment. The moment that is mine. I saw her nuzzle into that towel, my towel and then I watched them walk away from me and I quietly weeped a little defeat. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that it is just a towel. A fresh towel, but just a towel. I reminded myself that I am no longer just Jess, I am Mummy and I am to share. 

I tried to wash away my frustrations but they slowly began to grow bigger and bigger. Until I turned off the water and I wrapped myself in my now damp and crumpled towel and I walked out to Anthony and I said NO, not okay! He did not understand, not even slightly. He says to me that it is just a towel and that he didn't realise something like a towel could be such a big deal.

In that moment, I realised that Daddy is never going to understand why something as small as a towel can be such a huge deal. Daddy will never understand why Mummy holds that towel and that moment so close to her heart. Was it worth having the argument? Probably not. But I pushed on through and tried to explain that there is very little left that is only mine and he just took away one of the only things Evelyn hasn't touched yet. 

Daddy didn't understand and until Daddy has to share the toilet with Evelyn and Jelly every single time he goes, Daddy won't understand. Until Daddy has to share every single meal with his children, he wont understand. Until Daddy has to share all that Mummy has to share, every day, Daddy will never have the ability to understand why something as small as a towel can be so important. 

Towel washing day is my day, it is my moment and I will continue to treasure that one moment because we Mummy's need to take what we can get. 

Why marriage has become so important to me

Marriage has never seemed to stand for much in my life. I see, or hear, of people standing before the people they love and trust, declaring their undying love for each other, promising to love and support each other until "death do us part" and yet, 10 years, 20 or 30 years later, they are walking away from each other. Not because death did they part, but because their undying love, had died. Because they believed they had nothing left, they tried all they could to make it work but it just didn't work. Or, like in most cases I have been witness to, the man fell in love with another woman. I come from a line of broken families, forgotten vows and broken promises. I do not know what a successful marriage looks like, I do not know how a Mum and a Dad are supposed to work together. I have only ever seen them work against each other. 

Marriage, forever, promises, undying love... those sentiments were always meaningless to me.

I grew up to not believe in marriage, at the hand of my own teachings. I never wanted to put myself in the situation where I could be promised the world, where I put my faith, my future, in the hands of a man. My experience was that once you put your future in the hands of that man, they just took it away from you. They tore your world down around you. They promise you love, support, a life, a family and a home. Until one day, when they meet someone else and that promise is broken, forgotten. You are forgotten and therefore broken. They have the power to give you security and then to take it all away from you and leave you with nothing. Nothing but children to care for and no home to live in, while they go and make family somewhere else, without you and without your children. It happened to my Mum. It happened to her Mum. I feared marriage and love. 

I despised having a promise made to me, for fear of it being broken. To make a promise to someone, in my eyes, is a guarantee. An absolute. An unbreakable bond. Yet, throughout my life I have had many promises made and broken. How can you say those words so freely, so loosely? I hold so much importance to those words, to the point of it being unrealistic. Promises can be made and they can be broken, life sometimes gets in the way. But in my life, I am not sure I have ever had a promise kept. I don't want to hear someone make me a promise. I don't want to feel the break. Of the promise, or of my heart.

But then one fateful night, I met a man. A man that I truly believe was delivered to me by the good fortune of my guardian angels. A man that I was made to meet and he was made to change me. Change my life and my beliefs. And he has, so very much so that marriage is now something that I crave. Something that I need. Something that is just so truly important to me that my heart aches for the day that I get the chance to stand before the ones I love and trust, declaring my undying love for Anthony. My heart aches to make a promise, whispered between our souls, that I will forever carry his heart in the warmth of my own. A promise, etched into my being, that he is made for me and I am made for him. A promise, shared between two people, that no one will ever understand, no one will ever know just how very sincere those words will be, just how very unbreakable my promise to him will be. 

Anthony has never promised me the world. He has never promised much. I have never had to hear that dreaded word. That may not sound sweet and romantic to you, but for me, I will eternally be grateful. Because in his lack of verbal words, my heart hears his heart. There is an unspoken bond, a promise between two bodies, that we will always keep each other warm at night. A knowingness, that although he does not speak the promise, he feels it. A belief, in him. A trust, that he will not tear my world down. And a faith, that I can believe it all.

I have so much to learn, about a man and a woman sharing their lives together, raising a family together. There was no man raising my family. I am forever teaching myself to share, to trust, to allow and nurture his role in my life and in the life of my children. But, I want to learn those lesson's.

Because I want to keep my promise.

 

No Place Like Home

I was born a restless soul, my body never truly at ease when in the one place for any length of time. My mind has always craved change, at its most peaceful when surrounded by spontaneity. It was never my desire to grow old and marry a man, have a family or own a home. It was always my dream to travel the world, the country, and leave just my footprints behind. 

When I was just a young girl my parents divorced. In the divorce my Mum moved to Forster and took my brother, sister and I with her. We lived in two addresses before settling in our new forever home. I think it was at this time, that my love to move and change was born. Before long my life uprooted again and I was a 14 year old girl living out of home. In that time, I never had one true address, I never stayed in one place for too long. As scared and lonely as I felt, living life solo, my soul was at its most content. I didn't belong to anyone, I had no roots and I was not tied to any belongings. I was at peace, I was free. There was no one to answer to except myself. I was carefree and my life was my own. 

I have never had a desire to find a home, find somewhere that I belong. For me, not belonging, was my normal. Growing up, I was never a part of a friendship circle, always the girl who skipped between groups. Befriending one here and there. My life was never full of people, I had my person and that was all that I needed. As a young girl I never dreamed of being married, in fact, I despised the idea. I did not want to put my faith in one person and have my life forever joined to someone else's. 

I never knew what I was missing, I was not aware of the love that you can experience, the sweet warm embrace of acceptance... of belonging. When you do not know that such emotions exist, you don't yearn for them. I had spent my whole life without the taste for a home. 

Until I met Anthony. Then my views changed and my expectations of this life grew. We created something really special, for me. With him I learnt that roots are not to be afraid of. With him I learnt that belonging is warm. With him I learnt that I wanted a home, that I needed a home. We created a life together, a life I never could have envisioned myself living. We created life, very own child. Yet, while I felt settled with him, I never felt settled with life. I was still looking for that place that I could call home, that place that feels like home.

Since our latest move I slowly become more content. I do not rush out the door every morning and make myself busy until the afternoon. I take life slowly, happy to spend the time at home. I walk more gently. In the last 12 months, I am loosing that sense of restfulness, that desire for change and spontaneity. I no longer yearn to travel the world, I ache to just be. To be at home. Because, now I have one. 

I have found a place that I belong. I have found people I love and who just so happen to love me back. Sometimes the happiness I feel when I look at these new friends is so overwhelming that I walk away and I cry. This new life I am living doesn't make sense to me. To have people care for me with such a fierce love, to have them want to be with me, for them to call me, it is something I have never experienced. I have never allowed myself to have that. Each day I sit back and I look at this life I have created for myself and I truly know that I am blessed.

I have found a man whom has changed my entire belief of the world and relationships and marriage (and I don't resent that change). I have a Daughter whom I would give the world and loves me unconditionally. I have friends who chose to be with me and who show me every day that they want to be. I have a home that I walk into and I finally feel that relief.

My life has taken a turn that I never imagined it would. I have become settled, content, at ease... happy. I no longer want to pack up and leave my life behind. I want to be stuck, right in the middle of it, living it every day. My soul, only now, truly knows what it feels like to be content - when it belongs. My restfulness has never been about a need for change in the physical sense, it has always needed a change in the life I was living, it needed this life...

...this warm sweet embrace.

Our Love Notes

Anthony is a quiet and private person. He lives his life the way he wishes too and mainly keeps to himself, he does not use any form of social media as he cannot understand the desire to know about peoples business. For this very reason, I don't very often talk of him or of our relationship here or in any other form of social media. I try to respect his privacy as much as he respects my need to share. But, this blog is to be a gift to my Daughter one day. I am using this space as a way to document our lives together and the lessons we learn and teach each other. I cannot give our story to my Daughter with a big Anthony shaped hole in it. He is a part of me, a part of her and a very important part of our story.

Anthony is my partner, my best friend, my accomplice and my support. He is my warmth and my resting place. He is, for me, the calm and the logic that I am lacking and I am for him, the fire and the passion, that he keeps hidden. He challenges my intellect and he gives me direction. I challenge his emotions and remind him to show them. Together we combine and we are for each other, what we have always been without. He is my opposite and I am his, but together we form a team.

Like most relationships, we have had our ups and our downs, we have our trials and our triumphs. We fight, we play, we cry and we laugh. We are just two people who are trying to make it and who sometimes forget to make the other one feel great. All relationships have a fictitious beginning, you know, how we pretend to love the tour de france because he does. Or they pretend to be romantic with flowers, because she wants that. Then once you have them, the truth comes out. There are no flowers and the tour de france will never play on this television while I am in the house. 

Sometimes we let the romance die out, sometimes we revert back to living our lives separately and we forget to do those little things that say to the other, "hey, Im thinking of you and I love you". So, we have had many discussions and arguments between the two of us, about how we aren't letting the other one feel the love. Conversations about how we are getting swept up in the whirlwind that is life as parents and we are forgetting about life as lovers. The thing is, we don't spend much time with just the two of us. We don't have many people who we can call upon to take Evelyn so that we can have that special "us" time. So we need to find other ways to do this. We need to be a little more creative in the ways that we take each others breath away. We need to create moments amidst our daily family life to let the other know that even though we can't run away for the night, I still want you.

~~~

For Evelyn's first birthday, we were given a packet of bath crayons. I thought to myself, "Wow! Gee thanks! Another mess I'll have to spend hours scrubbing away". I know right, very appreciative gift recipient here! Evelyn was too young to play with these so they were packed away for a later date and swiftly forgotten about.

~~~

One morning I woke up and I dragged my tired feet into the bathroom to find inspiration beneath the hot stinging needles of the shower. I washed the nights bad sleep away and scrubbed in some energy and revitalisation. And as I turned off the shower taps, I found some real inspiration. I found my smile for the day. I found a moment, which took my breath away and made me feel more then loved. I found Anthony's feelings and emotions, which I rarely get to hear, scrawled out in bright coloured bath crayons on my shower screen. My heart melted and my day was made. 

And now, this has become an almost daily ritual. He will write to me and confess his love, and I will wash it away and return the notion. Each and every morning I look forward to getting out of bed and letting my heart skip a beat. 

~~~

I thank my friend Zelda, every morning, for that packet of bath crayons. They have breathed a little spark and fire into my relationship that was becoming a little drab and forgetful. They have given us the inspiration to remind each other that we love each other. They have given us fun and they have given us romance. 

~~~

There is joy in things as small as a packet of crayons, that even we adults, can learn to find.

***This post was read and approved by Anthony before posting, who requested I add the following disclaimer***

This all originally started with a nice big red letter on my fridge, written in a whiteboard marker, it took us two nights of intensive scrubbing to get it off! Sometimes, romance can backfire!

**Fridges are not whiteboards**

Linking up with Diary of a SAHM IBOT for the first time - thanks for having me :)