external perspectives

…I walked out into the kitchen/livingroom just before to grab some coffee and Dad – who in his box of an office would not have been able to see me, calls out, ‘hi bec’.
It’s interesting to think that people know your step, your walk or something about you when you walk into a room.

It would a strange thing to be a parent. How would it be to watch your kids grow up – an external perspective (although I’m sure they’d miss a lot) on their life. Seeing them change, go off the rails, grow, watch their take on accepting the principles you’ve attempted to make base values, fall in love, get married, have their own kids. To see their birth, to see them x no. of years on.
To watch descisions affect circumstances. To wonder if you had failed or suceeded. To wonder if things got out of control one day and you never fully got back on track.
As much as I one day would love to be a parent, it’s a terrifying prospect, here you are completely responsible for a human being (:) excepting God)
How does single parenting work? You’d go out of your mind.

I understand a little more today of Monica’s fear. How do you respond to someone like that? I am as, no, more inexperienced than her. I can give her advice about getting a mentor, finding a young mum to talk to, discussing things through with her own, and prayer. But what else?

Looking at my own relationship with my parents… what would I rate it?
Good but not great. Not close, but not indifferent.

I have so much respect for my Dad and the Godly way I see him living, yet I don’t often hang out with him. Not as much as we used to. My excuse of doing the ‘boyish’ things, the enjoying computers, the building the occasional thing – I guess that was because I caught some of his enthusiasm. I’ve never thought of my stint of doing stuff like that as being an excuse to spend time with him. Subconsiously maybe.

We were out driving Hannah somewhere the other day when mum was away. I was getting driving practice. After dropping her off I mentioned something about grabbing some lunch (thinking a pie), He said no, not enough money. Then 5mins down the road made me stop at this restaurant thing on the side of the road. Lots in the Yarra Valley area. Gave him a surprised look, he did a ‘me’ thing… a ‘may as well’ shrugging off importance. Ha, pie or restaurant – which is cheaper? And so we had lunch. I don’t know if I’ve ever done that w/ Dad before. Not for years, not since he used to take us out individually to Macca’s for breakfast and that happened what? once.
It was strange really… I didn’t know what to feel, what I felt. Gratitude. It’s as if I’m not used to Dad showing love for any of us (bar mum) that way.
I got to talk to him about some gush stuff – it being, I guess, me realising it as a passion… it’s nice to have someone listen externally about stuff like that.

Weighing up Dad’s lunch, against Mum’s more frequent: stop by a cafe and love of coffee (which I have completely inherited)…

I don’t know. My relationship with Mum differs so much. I have had I guess a love/cant-stand relationship with her. I have been known in the past to get so unbelievely frustrated, to yell at her and her at me. Pinning the word ‘respect’ on Dad – I’ve not been able to do that with Mum, not as eaisly.
We spend more time together. 2003 – I would spend every Wednesday (in her picking me up from school to go to L. High for VET) with her at a cafe. It was important I think, in a slight attempt to regain some ground lost previously.
Of all people in my family, Mum is the one I still find hardest to get along with.
I go through stages of wondering what Dad sees in her :\ – how come she doesn’t frustrate him like she does me.
I understand reasonable, logical people. Mum is neither.
My attempts at passing over the fact that I am in disbelief at some of the conclusions she draws (in arguments)or just in her sometimes overprotectiveness aren’t always very sucessful. I should probably try harder.
She drives us everywhere.

What are my parents love languages…? Mum’s is most definitely quality time.

They’re doing a marriage enrichment course at the moment… Laura and I find the occasional thing that makes laugh about it 🙂 something this morning. You don’t everyday walk into your parents bathroom and find soemthing written on the mirror in lipstick. Before that and still, they use Saturday afternoons to do something specifically together (without us).
I want a marriage that works like that.

Talking about relationships w/ parents with people – I’ve found you get along better w/ the parent you are most like (yes probably generalising a little too much here).
Looking at myself and although I am more like dad characteristically I can see just as much of mum in me – the problem is, when I see those things they aren’t always qualities I like. Maybe I’m attune to look for the wrong things.

My Dad has incredible patience. Can say no. People look up to him. He has an awesome God relationship. I remember walking into their room one evening about 4 years ago, it was dark he was there praying. I remember finding something that he wrote before he was married… and how I still have that and how I want him to have it one day. I admire him.

My efforts fall short when looking at Mum. I wish I really really want to see more, to start picking out the good things in Mum. She’s a very generous person… I can get only so far and then I run out of stuff. I don’t want to. God, please show me.

I’ve been told your relationship with your parents improves when you move out.

No, I’m not one for being candidly honest and talking through stuff with Mum or Dad (I hardly do that with friends), I don’t know if that will happen and I don’t think it will for awhile. I think things could be better though.

What would it be like to watch me – from birth, to now, to then?

What does my ‘then’ look like?

my coffee is cold.