Last week, I struck up a conversation with a stranger at a busy playground.

She had her six-month old baby perched on her lap; my toddler was a few metres away, eating grass. After our children tussled awkwardly over a pack of sultanas, we got talking and discovered we had a few things in common: tall husbands, quaint Newtown apartments, Eurasian offspring. The conversation meandered across various topics, from aircraft noise and breastfeeding to religion. When she stood up to leave, I wanted ask her to hang out with me sometime, but I hesitated. “What if she says no?” I thought. “What if I come across as desperate? Peculiar? Or worse still, like a stalker?” So I didn’t say anything. Like a teenage boy too nervous to ask someone out on a first date, I chickened out.

Making friends is not an easy task when you’re approaching thirty. In our early twenties, we’re open to new ‘everything’: people, friendships, experiences, hobbies. Once we hit our thirties, our circles tighten and we tend to stick to our tribes. The only exception is going through a life change, such as moving cities, starting a new job, or becoming a stay at home mum. Even then, automatic friendships are not guaranteed. As a new mum, I joined my mother’s group quite late due to a conflicting schedule and found it really hard to break into the group. I’m sure people can say the same about moving churches. I’ve also found it hard to move friendships from the superficial level, beyond that point where you banter about the weekend and not much else.

So what’s a girl to do? Admit it. At some point in your life, you’ve looked around and thought, “my goodness, I really need to make some friends”. I know I have. How do you ask someone, “will you be my friend?” without feeling like you’re from planet loser?

According to the husband (and this advice is up for debate), the key is being intentional and proactive. When I wanted to make some female friends early on in our marriage, he encouraged me to seek out some women who I wanted to get to know and invite them out for coffee. Despite feeling like I was asking someone out on a date (creepy), I followed his advice. However, I wound up despondent.
“It didn’t work. We hung out, but they never initiated the invite back!” I wailed, trying to squash the niggling thought that maybe they just weren’t that into me.
The husband replied, “Maybe you didn’t initiate often enough.”
“How often are you meant to initiate, without being pushy?”
He stopped and thought about it. “At least nine or ten times. Before they get the message you want to be friends.”

Nine or ten times?!
That’s stalker behaviour, if you ask me.

I did get his point, although it was exaggerated for effect. Like with anything in life, good friends come to those who invest energy in making them. So I’m asking you, readers: how do you go about making them? Is it something only extroverted people are good at?

Would you have the courage to ask a stranger at the park out for coffee?

Image by jmtimages.

Last week, Julie from The Useful Box blogged about creating a work space in her bedroom. Her post seems to be a common dilemma for mums: where do you keep your work desk when every ounce of living space is precious and the computer needs to be protected from sticky little hands?

Our solution, like Julie’s, was to create a space in our bedroom. This had some drawbacks. We had to push our bed right up against a wall, so I have to crawl to the foot of the bed if I want to get out in the middle of the night. We also had to do away with our bedside tables, which were really just Ikea stools with a whole heap of junk on them. I was quite pleased with the end result, though.

See below:

The repurposed Ikea ‘bedside tables’:

I wouldn’t want to live permanently with a computer right where I sleep, but it works for the limited space we have. When we move, the husband has agreed to find a more permanent solution for my computer and desk. My mind is racing with ideas!

Whether you’re in a tiny flat, share house or a family home with children, I’d love to know: where do you keep your desk? Got any creative solutions for those who don’t have a study?

As we race towards December and shops start to put up their Christmas lights, I’m starting to feel emotional about the year ahead. In just over a month, we’ll be moving from Newtown to suburban Sydney, where the husband will be pastoring a congregation at an Anglican church. I’m excited about the move, but I can’t help thinking of all the things I’m sad to leave behind.

Here are three, in no particular order:

1. Living in the inner-west. Where else can you walk five minutes from your front door step and get a good takeaway coffee? Or stroll with your pram past quaint shops, cafes and patisseries? Since we got married five years ago, the husband and I have wholeheartedly embraced inner-west living (drinking lots of coffee helps). It will be sad to relinquish our citizenship at the end of the year.

2. Our current church. Changing churches is a bit like moving out of home. It’s only when you’re leaving do you start to appreciate your family – their quirks, habits, and constant support through the good and bad. Our current church is very special to me, as it’s where I found healing, joy and a renewed love for the Gospel. I’ll miss the friends we’ve made, particularly the women I’ve shared life with.

3. Leaving behind the little man’s first home. It makes me sad that our boy will never remember this house. He’ll never remember the nights I spent feeding him while gazing out the window at the lights of King St, or playing with other college kids around our complex. He’ll never remember taking his first steps, arms extended and pink tongue poking out in concentration. He won’t remember the many playgrounds frequented, the numerous walks to Broadway, feeding ducks at Victoria Park or eating Gelatissimo ice cream. This house is where we learned how to be a family of three.

And that’s not even getting into the many other things I’ll miss: having friends close by, my college Bible study group, being across the road from the husband during the day, our fruit and vegetable co-op, the pie tin…

Oh dear, I’m feeling nostalgic already. Next week, I’ll post three things I’m looking forward to about next year.

What are you saying goodbye to this year?

Image by imperatricks

So apparently there was an NRL grand final last Sunday night. I didn’t watch it, nor do I know the score. All I do know is that Manly – the maroon coloured jerseys with sea eagles on them – played some other team (I have no idea who) and won.

And a whole lot of people facebooked about it the next day.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had zero interest in watching sport. I don’t follow the swimming. I can’t tell the difference between the different rugby codes. I couldn’t sit through more than five minutes of the Tour de France, not even for the scenery. I could blame my race’s aversion to contact sport for my ignorance, but I’m afraid I have the same attitude towards the tennis (a favourite sport amongst Asians). Nadal who?

Now before you label me some sort of killjoy, I’m not against sport in principle. I saw Invictus. Improving morale, instilling national pride – I’m all for that. I wouldn’t even go as far as Mia Freedman did, when she poured cold water on Cadel Evan’s cycling win by claiming sportspeople aren’t real heroes (though I did think she made a good point). My aversion to sport is far less profound. In short, and I’m getting ready to duck for cover as I write this, I find the whole process boring. Tedious even. I get easily distracted by everything else surrounding the game: the ads emblazoned on the field, the pale fleshed streakers, what Bec Hewitt is wearing on the sidelines.

I’m okay being at odds with most Australians, especially those who pursue sport like it’s their patriotic duty. The only difficulty, though, is marrying into a cricket-loving family. I still remember the shocked expressions the first time I told my in-laws I didn’t understand how runs were scored. My dear husband nearly choked on his beer. So I decided that in the same way one learns how to drink a short black coffee, I’d join in the fun and learn how to at least appreciate cricket. That was four years ago. Since then, I’ve progressed from reading a book during the coverage, to vaguely recognising the players and finally, last summer, actually enjoying watching a Twenty20 match.

Now if I could only remember the difference between running down the wicket and taking someone’s wicket.

Do you struggle to share Australia’s excitement over various sporting events?

Images by today is a good day and cwgreeny.

I’ve been reflecting on the adjustments I’ve made in my behaviour this year; little permutations that have freed me up in different ways.

I’m not talking about finding capital F Freedom, the kind that artists write songs about and people spend their lives searching for. I mean the tiny little freedoms we experience on a daily basis: things like freedom from a tedious chore, freedom from pervasive technology, freedom from unnecessary guilt and perceived failures. We often live with these kinks in our lives, when sometimes a slight adjustment – whether in our attitude or behaviour – is all that’s needed to bring in some much needed fresh air.

Here are four such ‘adjustments’ I’ve made this year:

1. I learned how to decline an invitation
Someone once told me it’s perfectly okay to say ‘no’ to an invitation or event, simply because you don’t want to attend. You don’t need an excuse, nor do you need to feel guilty for turning someone down in order to rest or spend time with the family. I’ve finally put this into practice rather than following my usual pattern, i.e. running duty-bound from one thing to the next when what I really wanted to do was to sit alone on my couch, being very quiet and still. And I discovered there’s more integrity in simply saying, “I’m sorry, I won’t be able to attend/help out”. You’re less likely to scramble for an excuse, lie or promise to attend, only to pull out at the last minute when you realise you have too much on your plate.

2. I started shopping for my groceries online.
The $5 delivery fee is worth the one-and-a-half hours I save each week doing my grocery shopping online. No more driving through heavy traffic, no more hauling a cranky toddler through supermarket aisles, no more circling for a car park. If it was a choice between saving pocket money or precious hours in my week, I choose the latter.

3. I stopped equating how much television my child watches with how good a parent I am.
I remember once reading an online forum where parents compared how many minutes they allowed their babies to watch each day, then feeling guilty about the times I plonked the little man in front of ABC Kids without a second thought. So many parenting articles go on about how children watch too much television – how anti social the habit is, how it kills brain cells, how it’s a sign of lazy parenting. Although television should be watched in moderation, we’re not super mums. We have days when we overly rely on television because we’re sick, have too much to do or in need of some sanity time. And that’s okay. It doesn’t make you a bad parent. Sometimes, you just do what you have to do.

4. I turned blogging into work, not leisure.
I was adamant when I restarted The Fountainside this year that I would treat it as a job with specific goals, not as a hobby. As such, I’m a disciplined blogger. I flatplan my posts two weeks in advance. I write/edit 5-6 posts over two nights a week (when the husband is busy studying or leading Bible study), then schedule them for release during the week. I set aside one afternoon a month to brainstorm post ideas and interview topics. By following a routine and not writing things as the mood takes me, blogging is less likely to compromise my spare time, giving me freedom to hang out with friends and family, do ministry or pursue other interests. I also never post things I regret later, as I generally have a week between writing a post and it’s scheduled publish date. Sounds a bit dreary, doesn’t it? But it works for me.

Have you found freedom in certain areas of your life lately? Have you ever made a small change that significantly improved your life?