Time Out

I went on a date last night. A parent date. Not meaning it to sound weird I guess it’s necessary to define the word “date”. My good buddy dictionary.com tells me there are 20 different meanings to this word. I guess the one I am meaning is that M (my 11 year old son) and I fixed a time and a place to spend some time together – just the two of us.

It was rather spontaneous. My father has Season (well Life really but that’s an aside) tickets to the Rugby and couldn’t use them last night. As we have J this weekend one or both of the adults needed to stay home. I could have given them away (they are great seats & I’m sure there are some people I need to butter up at the moment). It came to me though that what I really wanted to do was to spend some one on one time with my son – not ferrying to and from school or supervising homework or telling him to clean up his room – but real time – talking and laughing and listening time.

We had a dinner at a restaurant where M would have, one year ago, turned his nose up at and refused. S & I (and a lot of credit has to go to S here) have been working on M’s palette and trying to improve his curiosity about food. It is working.
There were no single tables left so we were given two seats opposite each other on a long communal table with four other couples – two couples to each side of us. The man sitting to M’s left gave us and then M a good long stare as if to say “wtf?”. He didn’t look at me again as he was probably feeling my “wtf!” back good and strong and he knows a lioness mother when he sees one.

M told me his meal was “No offence Mum but the best lamb I have ever tasted”. None taken. It was slow cooked, braised lamb off the shoulder, literally falling off at the touch of the fork. It felt good and warming - both the food and the sharing. My Pinot and his lemonade went down well too and I put aside my PM ban of carbohydrates for garlic bread (by this I mean a whole garlic bulb with its head chopped, roasted and served with ciabatta bread or it’s Spanish equivalent).
After our peasant style meal M asked if I wanted to “go and explore” before the rugby started. I must have looked a bit dubious or at least confused. He explained that we “haven’t spent much time in the area” and that it would be good to “explore”. That word again. It’s a wonderful word. I felt like a kid again. Remembering that feeling of excitement regarding unknown terrain in terms of cupboards, trees and “Private Property Do Not Trespass” signs.

Leaving a Paddington restaurant though it was difficult to know what he meant – or expected. Window shopping didn’t seem to be cutting it. So we walked down to the ground. Perhaps the bogans outside the Caxton were going to be enough of an eye opener for M in terms of adventure. I tried as best as I could to shield him from this kind of “exploration” though. This time the “Private Property” sign was one that I erected and adhered to myself.

Once at the ground it was evident from M that my iphone wasn’t entirely welcome. I begged 2 mins so that I could check in on FB and talk to my best friend who was also at the ground. Somewhat sated I put it away. M’s look of approval my reward. I was hardly going to ask for permission to tweet.

We had a great night. I did sneak a few texts to my husband, which were apparently okay as they were “about the game, you’re alright Mum”. But M and I chatted & laughed and just loved hanging out. He was wonderful company. The real eye opener, though, was me. I was wonderful company. I wasn’t nagging or pleading or lecturing. I wasn’t hurried or dismissive or worried about anything other than the here and now (oh and the Bogans at the Caxton but that was only fleeting). I was a good date. I was a good parent date.

I tell a lot of my clients to spend time with their partners and spouses. This is becoming a well known catch cry in modern society. “Date nights” are common entries in our Outlook calenders. But how often do we do parent dates? Like any other kind of get-to-know-you scenario they seem to work better with one on one. I know this is hard logistically for many. Multiple children + minimal time combined with scrutinised entertainment funds doesn’t easily equate to one child and parent date nights. But if you can, try it.

I love this picture I found. Not only because of the action with the father and daughter, but because of the care and time the father obviously put into dressing her. And having fun with that. Not taking everything so seriously. I think that’s the key. I kept hugging my son and telling him I loved him. This is not unusual – but it was so profound last night I wanted to yell it out rather than whisper it. And I enjoyed myself. That is I found my own company a good thing. I found my inner explorer again. And I liked her.

Swallowing razor sharp, massive, gigantic pills. Ms Morissette my mouth is clearly bigger than yours.

Sometimes it’s not enough to have a “a good heart’. I’ve been told I have a good heart so many times in my life….. If I had a dollar… blah, blah, blah….I’d own homes in Point Piper, Manhattan & Lake Como (all very realistic goals for me at this point in life of course). But sadly, sometimes this statement comes with a “but” at the end of it. Because, equally sadly, I stuff up. I say too much. Or things I don’t mean. I have inherited a bad mouth gene. No – I don’t gutter talk (oh well okay sometimes I swear a bit but that’s not what I mean) I mean I say things that hurt people and can’t take them back.

For someone who believes in the power of language it is really difficult for me to hear things that I have said to other people that will remain with them forever. I get on my high horse and, especially under the influence of alcohol (which is a whole other story in itself) I shout down from that horse words that are often over dramatized and well – just plain untrue.

It’s taking a lot to write this blog. Its one thing to admit you are wrong – and another to make it public – but I feel that I should and I want to. I found out today I said something to a very dear friend of mine at our Christmas party (the worst night of my life incidentally) that I don’t even mean or think. I was questioning her judgement and, looking back, I clearly had no right. I don’t want to be cryptic nor do I want to give too much away for the sake of my friend – but needless to say I hurt her. And it has taken her until now to tell me. I am so glad she did as it comes in a week of reflection and fixing mistakes. Not all of mine – but in what I do – the buck basically stops with me. If one of my clients behaves badly – it reflects on me and the business. I care deeply about my clients and people in general so I will go into major protection mode to make sure that happens.

Instinct is a huge flag that is often waving in our faces wildly but we choose to grab it, wrap it up, and put it away in the cupboard, knowing all the while, we should be hoisting it up that flag pole and giving it the respect and acknowledgement it deserves. Compromised principles are my kryptonite. They eat away at me and torment me. I have been having trouble sleeping properly wrestling with an issue that I am hopefully resolving, through the help of my amazing and wise and tolerant husband.

With regards to myself I am working through some things about me that in the past I found it hard to face – let alone resolve. Not making excuses for myself is the first lesson. The second is saying “fix it”. Don’t drink so much if you are going to hurt people when you do it. It’s fun for a while but then it’s just boring. The apostles put water with their wine for a reason I guess. Again – hard things for me to be writing about here – but I’m doing so in the knowledge that I am rarely a hypocrite. No longer am I just going to go through life meaning well. What I said to my friend at the Christmas party wasn’t living well. It was thoughtless because I wasn’t thinking. Thought and rationality had gone home when it was clear that I should have.

My friend was gracious and lovely and worked it through herself & had already forgiven me by the time we caught up. But it will be a lot longer till I ever forgive myself. And I’m going to use this as another example of ways I need to grow and change and heal.
As for my badly behaved client– well I guess they will only change if they think what they are doing is bad. It is just up to me not to tolerate and accept that behaviour in my business.
I can only control what is in my grasp. And being the best person I can be. So big, massive pills for me to swallow this week – guess they fit in easily into my big mouth.

Buts, Butts & Rebuttals

There was a lot of talk about behinds last weekend. No – not the AFL kind- I mean bottoms, buttocks, bums! First Pippa Middleton’s is fantastic. And the world saw it. Her dress was stunning. Her hair & make up – perfect. What a lot of people seemed to concentrate on though was her rear end. A facebook page was even set up (with a very substantial number of hits) heralding it.

I heard this morning that she’s been offered $5 Mil to do one scene in an “adult” film. Who are they kidding and why did they even bother to ask. The Royal family vetoed The Chaser. They are hardly going to allow the sister of the future Queen to do Pippa Does Paris are they? Besides that would be a huge slight to Margaret. No one ever asked her to get her gear off and get paid for it…. I don’t think…

The other bottom of interest was Karl Stefanovic’s wife’s. I haven’t seen it personally but I take his word for it – as it seems so does the rest of Australia. The Today’s Show’s ratings have climbed even further – thanks to Karl – or his wife’s personal training commitments. After I heard his silver Logie speech I didn’t even bother staying up for the Gold. I knew it was in the bag. And I couldn’t stomach anymore Andre Rieu (sorry- that’s just me).

A man who tells the country that he loves his wife’s arse is a national treasure. No matter what anyone says – this is a great compliment. Let’s face it, Karl is a massive flirt. He makes women feel good about themselves. This is an art. But in order for him not to be seen as a sleaze – he needs to show the world that he loves and admires his wife. Karl is not stupid. Nor is his wife. Hugh Jackman is another example. He is the furthest thing from sleazy and obviously and openly adores his wife – yet he still makes women feel wonderful in his presence. Karl had to step it up a gear to get his message across. The twinkle in his eye and “appreciative” comments on and to women are not relationship applications – just gestures of good will. At least I hope this is the case…

Across the board- usually if someone is confident in life and in a relationship – compliments to their partner will not be an issue. I have been in past relationships when I was punished if a man looked at me – let alone gave me a compliment. I was told that I must be encouraging it. I know some women who have openly admitted that they prefer to go out with less attractive men as it makes them feel more secure and hot.

Someone accused me of this once. I reluctantly had to admit that – no – this was not my objective – as these men didn’t consider themselves less attractive – and certainly didn’t make me feel very secure. I went out with a chronic flirt once. He would flirt with waitresses, other school mums, my friends. I think he drew the line at my sisters and mother (much to my relief) but he once was so overtly ogling my cousin that I felt (and she too as a matter of fact) sick to the point of revulsion.

These type of flirts do not make anyone feel good – except themselves. A good flirt knows how to read the lay of the land. They don’t make anyone feel uncomfortable. Karl made women and wives Australia wide happy for he and his wife. He made his wife feel desirable and “hot”. Samantha Armytage seemed to be the only one with an issue. But there is my point again…. If she was feeling a lot better about her own physique she may have been more open to the cuteness of Cassie’s.

And I’m sure Pippa Middleton’s boyfriend is as proud as punch whilst quietly suggesting that wholesome rom coms are his movie genre of choice…

Flirting, Friends & Faux Pas

FLIRTING, FRIENDS AND FAUX PAS

Seems there is a bit of confusion out there in the dating marketplace about flirting and friendships. It has been a wonderful week and angelfish has had some fascinating conversations and feedback on dates & blossoming romances across the city.
Conversations and deeper thought has arisen from some areas of conjecture. Areas of discussion are inter-related but for the purpose of this blog and your understanding I will cover them separately.
The first – flirting. Okay so we know that it feels good to flirt – and be flirted with. Provided you actually like that person and they don’t creep you out. I actually put in my wedding vows that “I promise to flirt with you and be silly” as we often forget to do this with our partners. But that is a whole other area of discussion. At the moment we are talking early dating. So what came up this week was that one party (happens to be female) expressed the desire for the other party (male) to flirt. This was feedback given to me –and to be passed on the man. Now it seems that not much flirting went on from both sides on the date but somehow it was made known that there was interest. Flirting is an art but it comes naturally to some people, and not to others. I suppose it is always difficult for men to know when to flirt, to get the green light so to speak. My advice would be to be a bit game guys. If in doubt – and you are attracted to and like the woman – make her feel good. Put yourself out there a bit. What’s the worst that can happen? She doesn’t flutter her eye lashes back at you? She doesn’t play with her hair or laugh at your bad joke? In all seriousness the worst that really can happen is that she thinks you are not interested on anything other than a platonic level and puts you in the “friends box”. That’s not a box you really want to be in believe me as it’s really hard to climb out of.

Which leads me to the second conundrum for some this week. When is a date a date and how do you know if you're a friend or potential partner? Now I am all for men & women being friends. The friendships I have with men are so treasured and very insightful. It is also essential to be friends with your partner –and hold out for the physical relationship for a bit (again this is a topic for another blog) but I’m talking about if the lines are blurred and you just don’t know yet. My husband was totally across this subject last night when talking to one of our friends. We were talking about the subject of men and women talking to other men and women about men and women. Are you with me? Stay there – you will get it. I’ll paint the picture and make some names up for you. Okay so Leo asks Elizabeth over for dinner. Elizabeth doesn’t know whether this is for a date or just as friends. Leo’s casual nature is confusing and, whilst she is excited and really looking forward to the date, she just doesn’t know how to classify it or how to act entirely. How should she dress? Should she bring wine? Is it really okay to talk in depth about exes? Leo is a charming and engaging man. Conversation is rich and easy. But he seems to answer her questions by telling Elizabeth about his recent (the night before in fact) dates and questions arising from that. So Elizabeth (herself extremely attractive and intelligent & quite a catch) sees it as quite a blatant fact that she is a friend so then puts Leo in the friend’s box. S’s point last night is that men should, in the company of attractive women, never relegate them to counsellor role if they are single. If they are single and attractive and in your company then to be asked about other women is kind of…. Insulting and confusing. No one likes to feel ignored, is S’s point.

On the other side of the flirting fest though - if you ladies want a man to flirt - then flirt first! It's 2011 and no one is going to condemn you for a subtly suggestive compliment.

Seems to me that people (both sexes) are so afraid of going out on a limb that they are missing vital clues and suggestions that could lead to a very happy and sustainable relationship. There is nothing wrong with flirting or asking questions. Or being the first to say something. It’s the old adage – never regret what you do (unless it’s a crime of course) but what you don’t do.
Carpe diem! And seize it with gusto. Probably best to start with hand holding first though...

Easter Blues?

A lot of people I've spoken to recently are not aware of how the date of Easter Sunday is determined each year.

This year it's exceptionally late. No - Coles & Woolworths don't lobby government bodies and say they need more marketing time. The Easter Bunny doesn't just make random appearances across the country proclaiming kids can now eat chocolate. According to the English book of Common Prayer, "Easter Day is the first Sunday after the full moon which happens upon, or next after the 21st day of March; and if the full moon happens upon a Sunday, Easter Day is the Sunday after."

Why such an odd definition? March 21 is the vernal equinox -- the day on which the length of daylight equals the length of darkness as the days are lengthening in the spring. The traditional Jewish calendar is based on moon phases, which is how the phase of the moon enters into the definition -- when they were determining what day Easter would fall on, they deferred to the Jewish practice of using moon phases to decide the timing of holidays.

Using this method, Easter can only occur between March 22 and April 25.

For some, the lengthier time between Christmas and Easter this year has been a relief. A lot of singles dread the holidays. They are reminded of being single - often. Family get togethers, parties and holidays have to be fronted up alone.

I am so proud of some of my clients. They are tackling the cliche head on and organising holidays & events that embrace being single. Personally I would rather be in Bali with 5 great single friends than having to cook lunch for 10 intoxicated relatives any day but a lot of people just don't see it that way when they are in the single zone.

I'm not accepting any wallows this year. Christmas I will tolerate some sniffles - for 3 hours maximum and only on Christmas morning. Easter is not a time for being depressed however. It is for celebrating new life - and miracles.

So if single - get out of your comfort zone. Do something you have never done before. Go somewhere you've never been before.

A lovely friend of mine told me yesterday that she and her flatmate plan to do something different every week in order to meet someone new. This is a grand plan. It could be something as simple as walking to the shop rather than driving. If I had been driving to the gym instead of walking the day I met my husband it would never have happened & I would have had two less people to buy Easter eggs for this year. It could be sparking up a conversation with the cute guy in line at the servo. It could be going to that film festival instead going to the same pub with the same friends that you have been doing since day dot.

Get out and about. Make like the Easter bunny! And enjoy it -wherever you are or whomever you are with.

This space is a no sook zone. xx