Perspective

What a weekend! I'm afraid blogging moved a fair way down the list of priorities during the last two days, but that doesn't mean I wasn't thinking about you...

On Friday night, Christian and I went up to the city for the 3rd Annual Gala Ball held by the Warwick Foundation. We had been invited by the divine Anna and her gorgeous husband Adam - otherwise known as the custodians of mad roosters (update: the nasty rooster is now chasing people in the big chicken coop in the sky...I can't say I'm devastated...) to attend this swanky do, and you all know how excited I was. I managed to get the house organised, finish the washing, wangle my way through a hairdresser's appointment with the two girlies in the pram, and get gussied up in time to leave with Christian on Friday arvo. When I was dressed and had put on makeup and some beautiful (borrowed) bling, Phoebe gasped and said, "Mummy! You look like a lady!" (Funny that. I always thought that's what I was...) Jack looked me up and down, and remarked, "Oh, Mumma, you look beautiful. I really like your black eyes." Apparently, that's what my eyeshadow looked like! Let's just say my children don't see me tricked up in posh gear and lipstick very often.

The Warwick Foundation is a fundraising organisation for young people with cancer, so as well as a dinner there was a silent auction and various other fundraising activities on the night. It's incredible, really, the prevalence of cancer in our society, and the majority of us have been touched by it in our families at least once. But the day-to-day nuts and bolts of living with, and dealing with cancer are usually glossed over to prevent causing offence or upset. I was blown away by the honesty and bravery of this room full of people, both the people fighting cancer and the carers, family and friends who support them. To be perfectly truthful, I felt a bit useless sitting there, as I wanted to jump up and DO something to help...but I had no idea what I could do. My grandfather was not a young man when he died of cancer, but he certainly looked at the world through a young man's eyes. I thought about what he would have suggested I do, given the fact I am a humble teacher and not a top oncologist. Pa was 76 when he died, and I know for a fact it was nowhere near enough time for him. I also know that even though I have nothing in my experience to compare with cancer, if Christian had waited an hour to call the ambulance, or if there had been some other delay, I would have run out of time at the age of 33 when I contracted post-natal septicaemia. And so, in a room full of young people all courageously facing the battle of their lives, what could I do? What would they suggest to those fortunate enough to have their health?

I'm sure that both my Pa, and all of those facing this horrific disease would tell me to take life by the horns, regret nothing, and be grateful for that which has been graciously bestowed upon me. I did a bit of a blog-trawl this morning before we went out for the day, and funnily enough there were many mummies out there in blog-land today describing the things they are most grateful for. And so I decided to make a list of the things that I am grateful for at this point in my life, in honour of those who bravely shared their life experiences with me on Friday night.

* I am grateful for having a wonderful man to love, who is a fantastic husband and a beautiful father, and who has shared my life for nearly 8 years. I consider every anniversary a bonus, and the only reason I tell him I love him every day is because I mean it, and I don't want him to ever wonder how I feel about him.

* I am grateful for being blessed with three children who are healthy enough to eat me out of house and home, have brains that work well enough for them to be cheeky and hatch cunning plans, and who love their family fiercely enough to have no inhibitions whatsoever in terms of their behaviour! (By the by, the hairdresser on Friday asked if I'd had them close together to "get it over and done with". Ah, no, as a matter of fact I was lucky to have any of them at all...and I'm trying to make every moment last, not hurry their childhoods up and out of the way!)

* I am grateful for an amazing collection of family and friends who are always there to support me, laugh with me, cry with me, share with me, give me reality-checks when necessary, and go shopping with me for shoes when things get really tough.

* I am grateful for having a job I enjoy, a safe roof over my children's heads, pets I can love and nurture, and to live in a place where I can simply enjoy a normal day, being a housewife...ahem...domestic goddess.

Sitting at the dinner table on Friday night, I realised in a moment of clarity that tomorrow is not promised. Regardless of health, wealth, age or gender, none of us can take the chance that we have all the time we would like. The time to be happy is now. I will not necessarily be happier when I am getting more sleep, or I am earning more money, or when I have lost all my baby weight. I will not feel more contented if I find the bottom of the ironing basket, or completely de-cluttered the house. I refuse to be stressed over delays in the construction of our new house, as we have a perfectly functional roof to live under in the meantime. At this particular point in time, I have a husband, children, parents, siblings, grandparents, cousins, aunties, uncles, parents-in-law, brothers-in-law, and an entire extended family overseas, and many wonderful friends to love. I have much to be grateful for. So tomorrow, when I get up after a night of broken sleep breastfeeding a sick baby, with a persistent cough myself, and the kids are squabbling, and Christian is at work for another 13 hour day, and I have housework coming out of my ears, and I end up wearing an absurdedly long t-shirt in an attempt to cover my mummy-tummy, I will smile, and be grateful. Because how sad would I be if any of these elements were missing from my life? One thing is for sure - I don't want to miss a moment, and I'm going to enjoy every single one.