Heavenly Beverley : About A Boy (Again!)...

Those who know me well would be aware of my uninhibited love of my elder son, Mister Callum Timothy. This depth of feeling has, at times, caused embarrassment for him - my enthusiasm for selling raffle tickets at a Humphreys' Dance Studio competition almost caused Cal to disown me. Somehow, he continues to accept his loopy Mum and he, Bronwyn and Miss Imogen Ivy have given me so much joy that I could just about burst with delight and affection. Ragnar, the psycho Ragdoll cat does not receive much attention from me, due to his predisposition for biting!

Today, I am filled with pride, once more. If I could shout of my unbridled happiness from the rooftops, I surely would. But first, for those yet to make the acquaintance of my wonderful son, here is a bit of his back story...

He was born after I'd experienced the neonatal death of his brother (Christopher) and the stillbirths of his sisters (Zoe and Melanie). Desperate for a "live baby", my pregnancy with him was incredibly difficult. Into my third trimester, he thoroughly enjoyed snoozing inside my womb, rather than displaying the energy and eagerness that he illustrated after birth. Which meant when the outside world tried to monitor his "wellbeing in utero", Callum refused to cooperate. I should have realised that stubbornness to perform perfectly was the cause, but I was just in a world of emotional pain, terrified that he wouldn't survive.

At thirty-six weeks of pregnancy, we pulled the pin and he was born roaring and most disgruntled. Post birth, Callum immediately had a fit of the vapors and refused to play nice. He spent five days in a "headbox" in Special Nursery and then was content to have me squirt milk into his mouth rather than learn how to suck. Eventually, he agreed to toe the line and became an enthusiastic breast-feeder. Not to be denied his view on the universe, he would take my nipple with him as he peered around the corner of my body to catch any juicy action. Later, when he could talk, when describing my breasts in his own inimitable style, he told me that I had "long boobies". He was blissfully unaware that he was to blame for that state of affairs.

Callum was a social animal and loved daycare, unlike his sister and brother. He started school with his natural exuberance, which continued until after junior primary. Then, due to his wit and intelligence, he became the target of bullies. I ached for him, saw successive principals and tried to make home a haven. He refused to submit to the torment, remaining at the primary school when he could have left. I promised high school would be better, and was devastated when it wasn't for him.

However, Cal created his own safety net. First with karate and then with ballroom dancing, he found his tribe. In Year11, along with a new school, he made the decision to drop karate and keep dancing. This cocoon of friendship at his dance studio sustained him. And I realised very quickly that my move to Queensland late in that school year was a disaster. In a holiday job at the end of Year 11, he saved enough money to fly to Queensland to see me and his Dad's family. That is when I knew I had to return West.

Having always known he would make a great teacher, I was thrilled when he chose that course. But, upon graduation, finding long term teaching positions seemed to elude him. He went backwards and forwards between teaching and hospitality. Finally, having married the love of his life, Miss Bronwyn Louise, he chose to return to teaching so they could begin a family. I remember him telling me that hospitality and teaching were both forms of crowd control and teaching paid better with more family friendly hours.

In spite of his obvious talents, he continued to only gain teaching contracts for set periods. Beginning as the third teacher in two terms at a northern suburbs primary school, he held his nerve for second semester. Along with a tandem teacher, they survived a particularly challenging class. Appointed to lead the dance programme, he began that position for the next two years. He continued as a support teacher, a health teacher, as well as running the choir and organising performances. Then, the school announced the Dance Programme would finish at the end of this school year.

He had the promise of fours days a week work, probably teaching science in 2023 but his heart and needs were no longer fulfilled there. As a singer, dance specialist, ability to play multiple musical instruments and experience in visual arts teaching, he cast his net, hoping to find a welcoming environment at another school.

Last Friday morning, he went for an interview at Ballajura Primary School for a position as an Arts (Performing and Visual) specialist to start Term 1, 2023. He was delighted by the welcoming atmosphere and really believed he would be able to show his skill set in this environment. Later that day, he was confirmed that he would start the position as the Arts Specialist at Ballajura Primary School for 2023.

To say I am thrilled for him is the understatement of the century. And for his growing family - Peanut is due to make her appearance in March - this security of employment has allowed them to breathe again. I just hope that his new school learns to appreciate his drive, his enthusiasm and his determination to be the best Arts Specialist he can be.