Author: Kristin Smith

Your mind drifts off into the physical element of catch and release. You imagine a ball being tossed in the air and a hand stretched forth to catch it. Did you burrow deeper? Did you visualise a scenario in your past or present life that may mirror such a gripping title/phrase?

I’ll pitch a few scenarios to provide clarity on the appeal of the title. First up….friendships! As per many relationships, some friendships require more investments than others. Some merely exist for the purpose of entitlement or benefit, these friendships may either fade depending on personal growth or diminish over time. There are also friendships that require daily nourishment in order for both parties, or one, to feel nourished, sometimes leaving one party feeling depleted and the other fulfilled. There are friendships that are similar to cactus and survive the longest droughts without requiring a drop of nourishment to sustain even the most turbulent changes in weather. In the above circumstances, how have you felt given the title being ‘Catch & Release’? If you had to, for your own mental well-being, release any of the above examples of friendships/relationships, how would you feel?

In many cases, the demise of friendships or relationships occur due to an individual feeling uncertain, insecure, abandoned, used, a shift in the balance, varied opinions on values or morals, or simply a lack of love and attention. Now, previous generations would address the issue in person, whereas today’s society simply eradicate the individuals out of their social settings, interactions, etc yet this provides no real or genuine closure but simply places a lid on a clear jar!

Individuals shudder to receive face to face ‘confrontation’, text msgs, phone calls, emails fearing responses which may cause disruption to their mental stability instead of being open to embracing the experience and allowing themselves to learn, cope and sustain what is needing to be vented. Not dismissing anxiety as a disorder, as we all face levels of anxiety whether mild or extreme, but we have now evaded the basic level of response, ownership, acceptance, opportunity to counteract, dismiss or even agree with another’s opinion. So many have become completely sensitive that society now panders to these behaviours instead of providing a gentle reminder of the basic elements of survival – we all have to eat and we all can be fairly primal.

Let’s shift the attention and limelight and place it onto our kids. We grasp them close, not realising in some instances we haven’t allowed them the ability to stand firmly on solid ground. We have infact impaired their ability to walk. We are reminded that time does not stand still. We are constantly in a state of rush that we believe any given moment we must cling onto for in the blink of an eye these kids will become adults and we will be faced with the gloom of a barren nest. Yet, in our own disguised selfishness, we have not provided our kids with the opportunity to swim, to engage, to soar high, to drown, to fail, or to rise again. We have hindered them from many experiences which can only be self taught. In our over abundance of love for our kids we have been blinded by the developing demise of our pure intentions which have manifested into enabling our kids to inevitably fail at the basic requirement to survive.

Let’s now look inwards at ourselves and the relationships we have with ourselves. For many generations we were guided or instructed to follow a profession that provided wealth in monetary form. We were encouraged to seek success in the fields of medicine, science, accounting and law to appease what our parents denoted would bring us financial security and stability. Then, there was a shift in this thought process, as through experience those who entered into these fields without heart felt the remuneration could not satisfy their mental well-being or provide them with sustenance, security or stability. Those rolling in an abundance of cashflow, were never emotionally satisfied, they yearned for more, gambling their financial wealth away, cementing poor investments, losing sight to the importance of life. So we had a switch in outlook and we were advised to lead with our hearts, to release previous mindsets, reset, and develop and invest in our passions. We were reassured that following our hearts would fill a void no amount of cash would be able to suffice. Did this help? Or did we have to release the new age idea of following our hearts and passions as well as we couldn’t sustain a lifestyle which seemed fitting to us?

In many circumstances the phrase ‘catch and release’ pertains to relationships (friends, family, acquaintances, etc) and other situations have been quite personal and are battles we house within ourselves. I believe sometimes an extension in the grasp is required not necessarily a release but, in some special cases it is healthy to also release. Depending on the scenario, a little love, nourishment, pruning and understanding can revive, replenish and revitalise all which is seemingly lost. Value those that you catch, and if you choose to release, make sure you are satisfied with the decision. In some cases, you may need to retrieve the ball and simply try again!

What is the best Mum?

Where can she be found?

When is she available?

Why is she the best?

How can I be the best?

I’m not! I’m not a superwoman, I’m not a superhero! I don’t deserve a badge for birthing all three kids naturally and immersed in water. I’m not deserving of any accolades even though my achievements continue to mount. I breastfed each child whilst managing to run a dance studio. I’ve stood strong and supported two out of three as they embark on their journey into BIG school. We strive to fulfil the commitments we have made to our extracurricular activities in the afternoons and I continue to teach in studio whilst being heavily pregnant with baby boy #4! Yet, I am not superior to another mother, I am a surviving parent!

I have triumphed through the challenges of being a single parent through each pregnancy! I wear the worry lines on my forehead well, proving that many times I have failed! I have a million stretch marks that embody my tummy and although I may cover them, I am secretly proud I was able to nurture 4 tiny humans inside of me. I am a realist not a dreamer but that doesn’t mean dreamers are not worthy! If I dreamt more, maybe I could achieve more. I adore romance, yet I selected a husband far from it! I thrive on challenge and will usually find my hands are in more ventures than I can successfully complete. But I am not afraid to falter or fail!

I am 100% available for my kids. I have made a promise to them and more importantly myself that I am their protector. I will offer myself to be emotionally, psychologically, physically spiritually and financially available as best I can! I am not always able to provide them with what they want, but they will never go without the essentials they need. They will come home to a place they can call home. A home full of love, gospel music, dancing, shouting, laughing, crying and simply an abundance of warmth even on the hardest days. They will understand boundaries, even though they may continue to test them. They will respect the household, each other, themselves and most importantly me! They will learn to depend on themselves, to do for themselves, to be self sufficient and independent yet they will understand that I am always available! I am a mother. I am the matriarch of this family not because a crown was placed upon my head but because I chose to encompass the role. I don’t desire control, I desire to be taught and to teach. I know where to invest and direct my energy and I know when to retain it as well.

I’ve questioned many of my own practices, I’ve battled my own opinions, I’ve almost tortured myself with my own thoughts at how I might be better but I am aware that I am also human. I apologise, I take ownership of my mistakes, I humble myself when I am frustrated and react irrationally without forethought.

There is no better mother. She doesn’t exist. There is the career orientated mother, the SAHM mother, the organic mother, the mother seeking refuge from insanity, there’s the supported mother, the mother seeking support, there are many variations, yet we are all mothers. The only ideal mother is the loving mother.

I have my flaws, failures and shortfalls and if I’m due to wear a badge….I will wear them. Without failure I have no room to grow, develop, achieve or succeed! Life is a journey, and I choose to take my children on the ride with me!

Whether you’re patiently waiting your turn in the torturous queues at the shops, or channeling your inner Beyoncé whilst enduring the usual travel home by car, nothing is more infuriating than invasion of personal space!!

For those seeking remedial action, unfortunately neglected in its usual receipt during the fundamental years of societal etiquette, it is common law/knowledge to provide a person with personal space…sometimes referred to as ‘2-feet of personal space.’ This shouldn’t be taken literally and should be provided with a surplus of additional unoccupied space. Now many may state the issue lies with the individual requiring the space in the first place, stating they in fact have a phobia or another dysfunctional attribute, but let’s eradicate this radical theory! Majority rules, and everyone requires, desires and simply needs personal space. This allows free flow of thought, breath, extension of limbs and simply the ability to exhibit freedom of movement without the restriction of invading someone else’s space or your movement being impaired due to someone existing in close proximity. Eliminate what is unnecessary!

Honestly, although I may type in jest, I’ve had my own instances where my personal space and family space has been astonishingly (yet should be unsurprisingly) compromised without any duty of care or respect being offered! I have been left flabbergasted at the lengths some individuals have demonstrated without constraint, restraint or thought for their actions or impacts on others, let alone those they deem to love. I presume love has us doing crazy things and if these impulsive whims mean we lose focus on what is in someone else’s best interest, we should seek a level-headed, and objective view from a trustworthy source.

O the riddles continue you may be thinking. O how this writer constantly leaves us bemused, yet intrigued to define the levels of detail! Well I suppose you better strap in for the ride…the journey of us has only begun and each chapter I’ll hopefully unveil or simply reveal more!!

Eyes slow to waken, body hesitates to move, it’s a new day and yet an old routine has commenced once again. The bane of schedules, the loss of time, the unsettling sense of urgency, cheers to the new academic year!

I grasped onto the fleeting moments over summer with the boys! Basked in every precious emotion whether it provided feelings of contentment or significant frustration. Now the rigours of hustling to get two boys off to school and a toddler off to kindy have become a shock to the nervous system.

Surely I should have anticipated these feelings. I should have been fully prepared, and although I embrace the challenges and the urgency I still have resentment for the holidays coming to a swift end. You see, I’ve been savouring moments before we add the new addition to our family and now I feel robbed of time, precious quality time!

And here presents the good cop, bad cop! In this household, I’m certainly deemed the bad cop! I’m the nagging, repetitive, law enforcer in the house. I’m preventing the boys from simply doing what they want day in and day out. The daily regime:- wake up, make your bed, eat breakfast, brush your teeth, get dressed, pack your bag, hasn’t lost its charm as I grow tired of my own bellow and yet the reoccurrence hasn’t developed its muscle memory in the soldiers as yet!

I feel like a slave driver, asking they behave accordingly in public, in a business establishment, when addressing others, when having to complete tasks they may dislike, I’m exasperated at the pitch of my own instruction.

We participate in our extracurricular activities after school which consume 3 out of our 5 weekday evenings. I’ve made numerous requests for appropriate behaviour while I teach at the studio, knowing these kids may just want to be in the comfort of their own home. Than bedtime protocol commences:- wash hands, dinner, shower, story and bed! We all find solace in the prayers and cuddles before bed and are comforted by Nana in Bermuda’s gospel music at night. The sound of her voice soothes the soul and her presence radiates throughout the home even though she is oceans and shores away!

I pine for the day time seemingly stands still, there is a pause in the systematic routine and we can refresh and recharge. I yearn for holidays, for a moment just to clasp their hands and embrace them for an abundance of time uninterrupted by others or activities! I welcome the silence, the tranquility and the peace and reject the current state of affairs where routine requires discipline, commitment, hard work and reiteration.

I desire to be the good cop solely and loathe being the bad cop! If only I could guide my boys efficiently and effectively with song! I believe a composition is required as any new technique is preferred to the toll of being a lone rogue bad cop!!

As I listen to the children bellow out my husband’s name whilst he attempts to walk through the front door of our home, I am simply, and utterly…content. A moment of recollection whilst I end out my days of my fourth pregnancy, and reflect on my husband who without requiring prompting, has consumed the energetic void that I have been lacking with the boys. I was the mum that was constantly gallivanting the land, discovering hidden spots for my boys to just be little boys, who would scour the beaches’ shores daily, and who was seeking the next adventure for the kids. This parent seems to have retreated to a realm unbeknownst to me this pregnancy. How do I feel? Frustrated, disappointed, yearning to be the mother I once was, yet I know my strength and energy is required for nurturing and developing this human inside of me.

As we approach our 1st Year Wedding Anniversary, which is Monday, I reflect on our relationship and how much we have grown over the year. How I have learned to concede, acknowledge and respect that we are in a relationship, raising these young boys collectively and I am no longer maintaining this workload on my own. This has been my hardest mountain to climb and descend. There is no question to my endurance and strength when it is required. Every situation, or card I am dealt, I have been able to show resilience and a capacity to overcome what many define impossible. I have simply learned to survive regarding the circumstance and that horizons always present a positive or silver lining.

My husband, he is my rock. He is my confidante. He is my saviour. My mother instilled a foundation in me that I could never shun or disregard, it has provided me with the breath to reflect, perceive and receive, dismissing judgement and embracing variation. My husband, the calm amongst any parallel shift, who is certainly far from perfect, like myself, yet constantly seeks to affirm I am his number one. I am his Kristin Smith. His wife. The mother of his, soon to be, four boys. He admires me for all that I do, for my failures and my successes. He never asks for more, he is content in who I am and is excited for who I may become.

During my time of distress, frustration, hurt, and dismay, he has been my constant. He has resurrected me and allowed me to stand. Without uttering many words, he has provided me with the extra strength I have needed to feel confident, to feel strength, to stand firm in my beliefs. I can not provide or present him with more gratitude. As I nurture this baby inside of me, I am delighted in knowing that I have the best father for this child and these children. This man who is willing to give his all, yet develop himself, in order to provide, fend, support and complete his family.

So as we approach our first year anniversary, I have nothing else to report. I can simply reflect and recognise that the man I have in my life, is the man that has completed me. He has completed this family and he has been selfless in all of his intentions. I am forever and truly grateful to call him my husband and although I may not have taken his surname, I carry him as he carries me.

The rain poured down profusely on our surfari tent, built to weather any storm really, and the muddled sounds of the gate shuddering to the bathroom door seemed etched in the distance thanks to our infamous Rain Rain app! My newfound sleeping arrangements had been a success and the kids and I woke refreshed and victorious. It was the dawn of a new day, the livestock sang at our doorstep, bush turkeys snapped the branches beneath their feet, it was a glorious day! The kettle simmered in the background, the toaster churning out toast in military procession as if to feed an army ready to embark in battle and I was simply basking in the grandeur’s of a great night sleep!

Hubby was the last to wake, yet simply the first to leave after his spot of coffee, a bite of toast and some watermelon and he was off to kickstart his day at work. The kids and I dressed to hit the pool and than a kilometre drive to find solace in the calmness of the waves hitting the shoreline on the beach. As we imprinted our footprints in the sand along the shoreline, tracing the tyre marks, viewing the magnificent blue jellyfish that had been washed ashore, collected various shells along the path and were captivated by the parasailers who soar high above us, I felt humbled. Today was a good day and I felt the steady inflow and outflow of breath from my chest, maybe it was the ocean’s breeze, maybe it was reminiscent of being home in Bermuda, maybe it was knowing we had the beach seemingly to ourselves, maybe the magic of silence that is rarely exchanged, but it was a harmonious moment.

The boys enjoyed being thrown amongst the waves, running up against their sheer strength, jumping heights they had never soared to surpass them and watching their toes and feet sink amongst the depths of the sand. They sat by the shore digging, and making, threw frisbees, enjoyed snacks and simply bonding with each other and myself. All was well….until departure. The eldest had his usual outburst because if he could choose he would reside at the beach (wouldn’t we all?), the youngest couldn’t bear the battle, the struggle, the task of walking the long tainted path back, even though it was his footprints still etched in the sand amongst the tyre tracks. I did, however, manage to have all boys walk back on their own after much encouragement on my behalf.

A quick drive to the local shops found us watermelon, coconut water, ginger beer and much needed sustenance….food!! Food never tasted so divine at that instinct moment. The hot chips coated in chicken salt, the BLT, the ham and cheese croissant all to share, seemed to be truly appreciated by all. After lunch we venture back to the pool and than back to the tent where the boys took their scooters again for a venture and Knox passed out on the couch. Today had been a sheer success.

Hubby tried to regain faith in his dinner abilities and bought home pizza that night, yes it was a success and enjoyed by all. Since I had mastered the sleep arrangements the night before I sought to recreate that moment, not getting my hopes up for fear of disappointment, but I was optimistic another night of unbroken sleep was achievable. It certainly was!

The next day it was a repeat of the morning prior yet I chose to commence packing everything away. As hubby prepared himself quickly for a fast escape to work, I had the boys riding their scooters and spending time with their holiday friends prior to departure while I packed away our contents and said goodbye to #3 Surfari tent. Upon departure the boys had another dip in the pool and than we made the journey home…quickly back to reality and pining for our next escape away!!

And just like that, we are thrust back into reality. Now I’m sure your inquisitive minds wondered how the rest of our “glamping” trip petered out? Well, let’s quickly divulge.

Following doomsday 1, Day 2 could only inevitably possess something slightly more enchanting, enthralling, enlightening and well it simply had to provide more sustenance than the preceding day…right? It certainly did! As hubby enjoyed his cozy snooze on a blanket and pillows strewn on the floor, I brewed us coffee and whipped up some toast to kickstart the morning. I was ready to seize the day, considering there was literally adventure at our footsteps, why not? As hubby woke from his peaceful slumber, I dressed the boys for an early morning dip in the pool. It was so nice and peaceful watching the boys swim from my perch on the lounge chair!

After a brief stint in the pool, hubby left for work and I invited Cam down with Millie to embrace our ‘glamping’ experience. Now Cam may have found humour in our apparently luxurious tent kitted out with a kitchen, fluorescent lights, numerous power sources and TV, but nevertheless she provided some relief and Adult stimulation for me during the morning to early afternoon as Day 2 was already flying miles ahead of Day 1’s adventures. As Cam bid us adieu I allowed the boys free reign of the holiday park to meet new friends and ride their scooters. Sounds like a perfect day, until Kael ventured out of sight and I had to send Kayden to retrieve him which led me into a lovely holiday lecture about advising me of their whereabouts and than issuing a hard warning. Now back to our peace and tranquility, minus the impending interlude, all seemed to go quite smoothly. In the evening, we watched movies, and I downloaded the Rain Rain app instructed by Cam to have an undisturbed sleep. I pushed the queen size bed up against the bunk and asked the boys to share and sleep horizontal on the bottom bunk as Knox would sleep on the inside of the queen size bed and I on the outside. This would eliminate any fears of one of my minis deciding planking the floor in the middle of the night was a better option than their bed. All was fine in the #3 Surfari Tent….until…

Hubby had promised the boys dinner, time ticked slowly as 6, 7 even 8pm rolled by. Now hubby had previously asked what we should have and I advised just to grab maccas on the way down (yes good ole healthy McDonalds)! I prompted him to get 3 chicken nugget Happy Meals (each containing 3 nuggets), each with an apple juice and myself well I’d go for a Big Mac this time! Well, when hubby arrived at 8:20pm he presents one Happy Meal box and a brown paper bag! Knox dives in and snatches the box but my other two stand bewildered, their little eyes gleaming at Knox wondering how, where, why? I could see every thought process that riddled their mind as I was just as perplexed. Hubby than says “o I thought it was all in the same box. Boys how about you share a Big Mac”. Now I don’t really know many 4 and 6 year old boys or girls that would voluntarily select a burger they can’t even hold, over the ‘tantalising’ delight of maccas highly processed nuggets and sentimental toy but if you do know of these kids…good on em! My kids on the other hand were disappointed. I couldn’t face or wear their disappointment much longer as I painfully watched my hubby floundering around flabbergasted at what to do next and than proceed to just sit down as if defeated. So what does a Mum do? Well, what any other Mum would do. I told the boys let’s go for a drive, and we drove the 20mins to a McDonald’s at a service centre and the 20mins back! Needless-to-say, I wasn’t happy as Larry, but I was happy knowing my boys would get the same offering as their littlest brother and didn’t have to miss out!

Once dinner was over I allowed the boys to finish watching an episode of one of their favourite shows in bed, switched on the Rain Rain app on the iPad, turned the volume up, ensured hubby was kitted out with his blankets and pillows for his floor perch and off to la-la land I ventured.

Ok, so if you’ve made it this far, you are a champ and I am grateful for your investment. I am also going to save you further reading of who knows how long and continue this, well, possibly tomorrow! Let’s face it, reality has kicked back in, I’m home, I’m rundown, the kids are being themselves and I’m running for my bed for reprieve!!

MIDNIGHT! Why am I wide awake, as if I’ve had a full 8hrs of blissful slumber behind me? As if I can hear the oceans shores calling me, the seagulls gliding over the shoreline, and feel the sand sifting through my toes.

*Record screeches* Newsflash – I’m not on that secluded beach, basking under the sun’s yielding rays. However, there’s a noise, a booming thud that sounds like a metal gate forced shut by a cyclone about to hit every couple of minutes. Wondering who, or what the culprit is? It’s the use of the public facilities! If it’s not the continuous catch of the gate which holds the door shut which frightens me, it’s the hand dryer that reverberates off its surrounding walls, amplifying it’s sound, providing the perfect acoustics, yet resembles a plane about to take off right next to your head that builds anxiety or a climatic ambience.

My husband, at peace as I hear his snore rumble through the tent, every so often wakes and mumbles a profanity. Strangely enough, it initially provides me with a varying degree of comfort knowing someone might share the same sentiments as myself. On the contrary, I’m left bemused at the random outbursts which send him back off to sleep.

We can’t forget my own little creatures. My eldest and middle number one are cradled in an iron cast bunk which every toss and then sends a chime through the tent as if the church bells are calling. I’m perplexed as to why they are still sound asleep as surely they’ve caused some sort of physical damage to their perfect, soft skin. O and just in case you thought I forgot middle number 2, well I’ve had to do a ninja grasp to retrieve him as he slid down between the tent and the queen size bed that supposedly isn’t big enough for us to share.

My call, need, for a break amongst nature… well it’s certainly provided nature’s best. The calls of the nightly birds, the bush turkeys roaming the nearby bush and I’m sure many other wildlife I offer to be unaware of.

After the tough love I’ve had to provide today with the eldest, seemingly ungrateful for the gracious gift of…well another day. The spontaneous feelings of nausea that overcame me today which had me almost confounded to the tent walls. And now my inability to return to my clearly unnecessary and unwanted sleep….I question my skill set at listening to the calls of nature!

So Day 2…what adventures do you possess? I guess I’ll have to wait and see. The story continues….