The feature photo is a dragon fruit cactus. Boy 2 has a diverse palate and will try absolutely anything that is put in front of him. He has a soft spot though for fruit. A friend of his bought a pink oval shaped fruit to school to show my boy. If you think of a pear it is a similar shape. The flesh of the fruit that boy 2 had a taste of was white with black seeds and has the consistency of a kiwi fruit. Apparently the dragon fruit that has its origins in Mexico, is full of numerous nutrients, including Vitamin C, phosphorus, calcium, fiber and is high in antioxidants. From the first spoonful my youngest boy loved dragon fruit. So much so that he wanted to start growing them. We live in a sub-tropical area and the medium to large cactus seems to grow well here.
We were travelling home from western Queensland and boy 2 was yelling at us to stop the car. Now my boy gets car sick so of course we pull over at a ridiculous speed, because we have been there and done that with vomit all through the car. He wasn’t car sick at all, there was a fruit shop on the side of the road with dragon fruit plants for sale out the front. So after the initial “are you kidding me” had worn off. My husband went and purchased my son two dragon fruit plants.
He has nurtured his plants, he has fertilized them, and watered them and at one point even built a bamboo fence around them to protect them from our dog. He has sculptured them so they now look like works of art.
In saying all of this and how delicious the fruit is and how artistic the plant looks, we found out recently that it can take up to six years for the plant to bear fruit. My boy has a long wait for his treasured fruit, but I am sure he will enjoy the first bight after all of his hard work.
Boy 1 is not here for the week, he is sweating it out in western Queensland with my dad. He was keen to go and stay with my Dad for this week, I think he thought that if he went out bush he would be given a little more freedom and not have his nagging mother on his back. Because that is all I feel like I have done the last few weeks as well. Constantly reminding him of homework, assignments, work, cricket, cricket training, wearing the correct uniform to school, stop wrestling with your brother, don’t talk back, blah, blah, blah.
No wonder the kid jumped in the back of my dad’s car and barely said goodbye, after I wrapped him in my arms for longer than he was comfortable with and peppered kisses all over his face. He is not a touchy, feely kid so this show of affection didn’t sit well with him. My arms and heart ached when they drove out of my driveway, I stood there in bare feet and my nightie – because that is how early they had to leave, and watched the silver V8 four wheel drive power down our street. I text and left several message on both of their phones that first day, but with limited service where they were going I didn’t receive an answer. I finally talked to my dad about 12 hours after they had left and my boy was in the shower. I reminded my dad that his eldest grandson loves a long, hot shower and to remind him not to use all the water. I got the usual “he’ll be right” from my dad. He has been gone 3 days now and I miss his energy and presence in the house. I miss his face and his demands. I talked to him this morning and my heart melted at hearing his voice. He was absolutely fine and his usual self. He was getting ready for the day and sounded too busy to talk, but I piled on the questions.
“Are you ok?”
“Have you been sleeping ok?”
“What are you doing today?”
“Please remember to drink lots of water”
“Yes, its going to be 44 here on Saturday”
“I will ring you tonight from work”
“Ok, gotta go”
“ok love you lots”
“Bye, mate, love you”.
This week I feel that I’ve been the mother that continually makes demands from her kids. It really did feel like every time that I spoke to my
offspring, it was too ask them to do something.
“Put your tie and belt on”
“get ready for school.”
“get ready for work”
” have you got your homework”
We had a blow up about an assignment that was due in and it was not great, it was no where near the standard that he is capable of. Sitting at
cricket today, my head wanted to explode in frustration with the way my boy was playing cricket, he wasn’t playing to the best of his ability and was walking around the pitch waving his bat and not hitting the ball. I was the crazy mother on the boundary telling
him what to do. “Run”, “hit the ball”. My other boy was sitting with me laughing his little head off. This was after I had lectured him on the perils of borrowing money from friends and to never ever do it again. He had borrowed money from a friend to buy
a pencil with a rubber on the end at the school bookfair, I had told him no that he wouldn’t be buying a pencil from a bookfair and if he wanted to contribute to the bookfair he would be buying a book. I was trying to teach him the lesson that if you don’t
have your own cash, then you save for the item or forget about it. I had the very same conversation with boy 1 when on the way to work on Tuesday. He his at the age (14), where he believes that everything in our life should revolve about him and that he is
entitled to absolutely everything that he lays his eyes on. We have set a limit for him to reach in his bank account before he is allowed to spend any money. This will be his emergency fund and this is the least amount that always must be in his account. He
thinks that this concept is ridiculous and that he should be able to spend whatever money he sees fit.
Everyday this week has felt like a battle, some ending in wine and a whinge to my husband.
I read an article on Facebook – by Rachel Stafford from the New York times, 10 ways to Salvage a bad morning before parting ways.
The last few sentences got to me : Day after day, you provide countless doses of love without even thinking about it. That sacred collection of loving gestures far outweighs this mornings clothing drama, and the 7am meltdown