 Drew's first bath (not my hairy arms - in case you were wondering) Some people are born to be mothers. They dream of a day when they will have a little person to care for and love and they feel that their lives will be complete when this happens. I am not one of those people.
I never had any interest in these small, noisy, loud creatures and to be honest, could not understand what anyone else saw in them either. So the way in which my life had completely changed course by actually having just had a baby was set to become one of the most difficult, stressful and confusing times of my life.
So there I was in the hospital after the birth of my first child wondering what the hell comes next. I had never changed a nappy, I had never bathed a baby, I had never felt so exhausted. People say (and I don't know what people, but you do hear this about the place) that when you have a baby you will instantly fall in love with it. You will feel so full of bliss and endorphins that you will immediately bond with this strange little person and wonder how you ever lived without it. Well, that didn't happen. I didn't feel like that. I felt overwhelmed, confused and seriously out of my depth.
People are very well meaning. They tell you things about your baby with the best of intentions. But all that does is make it more confusing and to be honest made me feel more like a failure. I didn't love this small noisy person more than life itself, I looked at it and wondered why on earth I had wanted to join the mummy club in the first place. After all, I didn't know what I was doing, I didn't even know where my life was headed. How could I now be responsible for someone else's?? Who thought this was a good idea and what the hell was I doing here in someone else's life?
Nobody tells you, you might feel like that. They say you will love it, they say it is magical, they say it is a miracle of life. So what was wrong with me that I was not revelling in that magic and rejoicing in the miracle of life? Nothing. Everyone feels different and that's ok. (I will skip ahead just for a moment and say things did get better...... eventually).
We named him Drew because I had always liked that name (in fact he was going to be Drew whether he was a boy or a girl) and it was an uncommon yet it wasn't odd (being a school teacher I am so over the oddly spelt, same sounding names and the just out there names - not cute and clever. Just annoying. Yep Millica - Oh, it's Mellissa .. I'm talking to you) and I held my little guy, like you are supposed to and people came to visit with flowers, toys, clothes and fruit (cause after that experience you really need the extra fibre to kick things off - if you get my drift) and I just felt weird and lost and a little bit like a fraud.
The nurses came in and out of the room, demonstrating how to bath him, how to wrap him and telling me how to take care of my stitches (somewhere you should never have stitches) and how to look after myself and then we were ready to go home. As the doctor came into our room to check and to sign everything off and the nurses picked Drew up and handed him to us and wished us well, I thought to myself, I can't believe they are letting us take a small person home with us, we don't even know what we're doing!! When you buy a dog at the pet store they suggest further reading and equipment you may need to purchase before you leave the store, where's the manual? How does this thing work?
I felt so unprepared for the journey we were about to embark on.... and I was.
I hope you are enjoying the Friday Flashback series Starting from Scratch and I would love to hear from you with any comments you would like to contribute.
Cheers,
Lee
 Do you ever have that feeling of impending doom? Like you've forgotten something and it's about to blow up in your face. It always seems to surface at the oddest moments and I can't for the life of me remember forgetting anything, so I don't know what it is.
Life's a bit like that, isn't it? Always too much or not enough? I think perhaps all the moments that aren't like that are the ones we don't notice because they feel so regular or normal, almost like nothing is happening it all. It seems to me the only time we really take notice of life is when it's not normal. When we have too much or not enough.
Sometime last year (when it wasn't lemon season) I was really craving lemons and they were so overly priced at the supermarket it wasn't worth it. I like to have a glass of hot water with lemon in it each morning to start my day (good for the digestion - so they say) and I had to give it a miss. Due to my almost subconscious daily habit I had not even given a thought to the lemons when they were readily available.... until they weren't.
We are lucky enough to have a beautiful lemon tree in our backyard. It's not a huge tree but it's lovely and it produces more lemons than we know what to do with (when the time is right). At this time of year we have an abundance of lemons. We have homemade lemonade, we have lemon ice cubes (because I am preparing for a time when lemons will be not so readily available again), we have fresh lemons. I am now looking into how to pickle lemons..... the point is, we have a lot of lemons.
Life is a little like my lemons. Too much or not enough. I think it is time perhaps that I start to pay more attention to the plain, ordinary, everyday stuff in between because that is actually what life is. It's not the too much or the not enough - we only notice that stuff because it's few and far between. The good stuff is in the middle. Like watching you children softly breathing in their sleep, like appreciating the fact that your husband takes the children to swimming lessons to give you a break, like talking to your mum or your friend on the phone about nothing in particular or when your child throws their grubby little arms around your neck to give you a hug. You know...... life.
Now, if I could just get rid of that impending sense of dread, I'd be right. Maybe I just forgot to take my pills this morning.... yeah, I'm sure that's what it is.
Enjoy the ordinary ... now you don't hear that every day. But maybe we should.
Cheers,
Lee
 Whilst sitting in a cramped, stuffy, dark corner the other day watching my son participate in "The Musical in a Day" event at his school it got me thinking about all the times my parents came to watch me in school events. (Sorry, scratch that. I mean parent - my Father never attended anything. It wasn't really his fault. That was the done thing then. Nobody's Dad came to school events.)
I thought about all the times my Mum came to watch me "do" something at school and in all those years of schooling I can really only remember one occasion. Not that I have blocked other occasions out - I don't think there were any.
In today's schooling calendar there are so many days booked out for events so that you can go and watch your kid do something (too bad if you have more than one, you might as well get a room at the school). The thing is, it's not like I don't want to watch my child participate in events, I don't want him to be the only one there without a parent watching on.... it's just that I'm not that interested. I mean you have to feign interest if they're interested (it's like being on a really bad first date, "uh, so you're into Dungeon's and Dragons? That is so fascinating!) I do admit there have been many times when the phrase "Good God when is this thing over? And "Please not one more song, I couldn't stand it!" float through my head. I cannot possibly be the only one??
If I really thought my child was getting a kick out of being involved in the whole hoopla, it would make me feel more things than just bored but he seems to be doing it out of duty as well. I mean, when I asked him why he wasn't singing at the "Musical in a Day", having not seen his lips move once he said it was too hard to concentrate on remembering when to move and singing at the same time. He honestly didn't look like he was loving it.
I remember as a child when you moved from kindergarten to "big school" and that was that. Now there's a graduation and some song and dance parade (that you don't want your child not to have a parent in attendance for) that you drag yourself up to school to watch. When I was a kid, we didn't celebrate everything like they do now, you just did it. Sure it's nice that they all get a participation ribbon for having a go but doesn't it kind of take the shine off celebrating really special achievements and events if you're celebrating everything?
My husband is a big sports fan. He doesn't play much of it, more the sit on the lounge and cheer the team on type of fan. Anyhoo, he will set the alarm to get up at two o'clock in the morning to watch a game and when I question this, he says "You just don't get it! This is a big game!". From where I stand that seems to be the response to every sporting event - I am beginning to wonder if they play little games at all, as all these big games seem to be hogging the limelight. And this is how it has become with all these events at the school. Everything seems to be important, so nothing actually is.
The extra level of difficulty for me at these events is trying to wrangle a two and a half year old whose had enough and would like to go home now, thank you very much. I know how he feels.
I'd like to say the shot above is just a bad photograph but we were sitting so far away from the action that that was pretty much all I could see of him. Well, there were all those crowds, it was a big event you know.
Cheers,
Lee
 As promised, I will be blogging a new series on Fridays, starting today!! Yay!! So if you are thinking about motherhood, about to become a mum or have just become a mum, then this is for you. Do not count yourself out if you having been doing this mum thing for a while either - come walk with me down mummy memory lane to where it all started. I promise to be straight-up about my experience of becoming a mum but know that it will not always be pretty (in truth, most of it won't be) but it will be honest.
So here we go ....
I have never been a very maternal person. This may come as a small shock now that the career page on my resume currently reads "stay at home mum" (God who saw that coming - I can honestly say I didn't) but that's how it is. I know people who LOVE babies, can't get enough of them, always want to cuddle other peoples and can't wait to have one of their own - yeah well, that wasn't me.
I never had any interest in babies or children. I did not want to hold them and I could not understand why people wanted to show me pictures of their sprogs when I was so clearly not interested. So the day I announced that my husband and I were expecting came as a BIG surprise to many (and yes, it was planned so I was not one of them). Prior to hitting 30 I thought having children was something other people did and I did not have the slightest interest in joining that club. Then one fine day (sometime after my 30th) it just hit me in the face that I might actually want to get involved in this whole parenting caper. Really, no-one was more surprised than me about this turn of events.
So, hubby and I talked it through. What were we doing? Could we afford it? Was this the right time for us? Was this the right thing at all? And we came to the conclusion that we were just going to give it a whirl anyway, regardless. The thing is, you spend most of your 20's partying (OK, maybe that was just me.. whatever) and trying not to get pregnant, so it goes without saying that once you start trying - it will just happen. At that time we had friends who desperately wanted children and had been trying without success for a fairly lengthy period. So I figured, if they wanted a baby so badly and it wasn't happening for them, maybe it wouldn't happen for us either. I had spent a good 16 years on the pill (yeah yeah, partying and trying not to get pregnant) so I thought this is probably going to take a while.
Being not so child friendly, my husband and I just decided to keep this change of heart about trying for a baby to ourselves until we knew what we were up against and the thing is ... it was very quick, much quicker than I had anticipated. So, when I went to the Doc's cause I kept throwing up, I thought it's probably a bug - which it kinda was.. really more of a parasite. Anyhoo, I rocked on up to the Doctors to be told that I was pregnant. Although we were scared, freaking out... and still vomiting we were kind of excited.
The thing is I knew my friend would be devastated and I wanted her to hear it from me, at home, so she could process it all, without an audience. It was one of the worst days of my life, telling her that we were expecting. Me, the woman who wasn't big on kids anyway, who wasn't really interested in babies, was telling her (someone who so desperately wanted to be a mum) that we were expecting. I know that it was heartbreaking for her. I knew it would be like a kick in the guts and understanding that and made me feel so sad that I was pregnant and she wasn't.
After that significant lowlight the pregnancy was filled with many highs..... (What! I think I was typing on autopilot for a moment there). It was crap. It was a crap experience and I did not enjoy being pregnant one bit. I know what you're thinking "what a selfish bloody cow - seeing as your friend wanted that so bad." Well before you jump on that - let me give you a glimpse into the future and tell you that it did happen for her and she now has two lovely girls.
So... back to me. Head in the toilet, feeling very sorry for myself. The thing is, people say "Oh, you should be happy about morning sickness. It means the baby is healthy and growing really well. It's a constant reminder that you're going to be a mum!!" Mind you these are people that aren't pulling over on their way to work to vomit by the side of the road.....
See you for more of flashback Friday next week - want to share some of your experiences?? Please do!!
Cheers,
Lee
 Sometimes my little guy sits so close to me he would have to hop in my shirt to be any closer and whilst it is lovely to feel his little body there and know that he loves being next to me, it's not always conducive to cooking dinner or a multitude of other everyday tasks.
Now I am not saying that he sits by me all day, truthfully he is like a jumping bean and lives his life by the motto "why walk when you can run" - in fact he's often covered in bruises and scrapes because of this (nobody said moving everywhere double time didn't lead to more personal injuries). The thing is, he has a problem with personal space and I am beginning to wonder how he can possibly get past this when I am so often in his face, smothering him in kisses and cuddles.
I was trying to get off a plane once when there was some kind of hold up and we were all left standing in the aisle. Now I am not a smaller breasted woman myself but I don't want to be feeling anyone else's either. So as we stood there waiting in this airless space the woman behind was so very close to me that I could feel her breasts pressed against my back. So I moved forward as much as I could to allow for some space (as you do) and she came up again behind me bazoombas pressed squarely into my back. Inside I was screaming "back off lady" but as it was an incredibly close space I didn't want to make the whole thing any more uncomfortable than it already was. So I bit my tongue and she continued to use my back as some kind of resting space for her boozies. Maybe it was cultural, maybe she just had no concept of personal space - I don't know what the deal with that was.
Whilst reflecting on this story it got me thinking about kids and personal space. How can you expect them to learn it when you're in their faces all the time?? Sometimes when me little guy (whose two) and I have a bit of a tumble and play together on the floor, I will pin him down and say "Now what will it be?? Would you like to be smothered in kisses or tickles??" - he always used to pick kisses but as he gets more of a grasp on the language of the natives he often picks "cuddles", which wasn't actually a choice but seems to give him a bit of a breather.
I have noticed that as he grows, learns new words and develops an understanding of the world - personal space is not something he's actively working on. Any time I am at his level he is in my face, there are no two ways about it. I think, he thinks that's just how it is and as he sometimes likes to play at being a dog this has resulted in my face being licked on more than one occassion.
When he is not strapped into his high chair at meals times he wants to sit on my lap and eat from my plate. I have tried to remove this issue by creating the same dining experience for him on his own plate but apparently it doesn't taste as good when it's not coming off someone else's plate. He often grabs my face and smoothers it in wet sloppy kisses and is always trying to steal my sunglasses ... while they are still on my face.
My nine year old on the other hand has now got to the stage where he won't hold my hand while we walk to the bus stop. Actually, I should say he will hold my hand - just not when anyone else from the bus stop is looking. Although he still accepts cuddles and will magnanimously let me give him a kiss before he gets on the bus.
I guess I should probably make the most of it, licks and all. One day they will be teenagers and probably won't even want me to stand next to them - I guess we'll all be getting enough personal space then.
Cheers,
Lee
I had all these great ideas for today's post and I knew exactly what I wanted to share with you and then cyclone two year old hit!
The thing is that Spring arrived in downtown Melbourne and then in a matter of moments, it looked like it had slunk away to allow a little more winter to hog the lime light and as a result both myself and my two year old have ended up with some hideous flu that shows no signs of abating.
Anyhoo, I dragged my sorry butt around the house this morning trying to make it look as if at least one person here wasn't on a mission to trash it, as my small friend followed me around duly dragging more stuff out behind me as he went. I don't believe that he is malicious..... at least I don't think so. But when he waited until I laid down on the floor for a moment with him and then dived up and wacked me in the head with a rather heavy plastic toy, I began to re-evalute that.
It all started this morning when I noticed his older brother (who is 9) had thoughtfully left some textas on the carpet in the front room, which the two year old of course found. He decided to go with a lovely green colouring job on the floor tiles and grout and then moved onto the cream coloured mat of the pool table. I was folding laundry in the other room and foolishly thought as long as I could hear him (which I could) then he was not up to no good (which is usually the case when things go quiet).
After that I sent him outside, where I could see all his goings on with a hat he insisted on wearing. Once he started beating the dog with said hat, I knew this day was not going to pick up. So I brought him back inside, onto my newly cleaned floors not realising that he had also been enjoying some quality time in the dogs bowl and now his shoes were not only wet ... but muddy.
Now don't think for one moment I totally left him to his own devices all morning and hoped for the best ... because I didn't. I tried reading him books, to which came the reply "no thanks". I tried signing songs, playing with toys and when all else failed to capture his attention, I tried the "let's have a little lay on the floor together... we'll snuggle. How about that?." Which resulted in him trying to take me out with a ninja turtle get around vehicle ( I actually think it's bruised behind my hair line ... he's leaving marks that don't show. Should I be worried?).
In the end, I did the only thing I could think of and sent him to bed, for his midday nap (at 11ish). He wailed and cried all the way there and then .... nothing. Ahhh piece at last.
I think that's why they make them so cute.... so you don't go out into the back yard and eye of a nice soft area of soil to dig up....
I better go, I think I just heard him stir and the tapping of the keyboard will alert him to my presence......
How is life going with your two year old? Or what age is giving you grief at the moment?
Cheers,
Lee
 In an effort to make sure that my kids have a direct line of communication with me and know that I will always do my best to be completely honest with them, I have often said that they can ask me anything. I will tell them as much as I know and I think they can handle (of course it goes without saying that I have had this conversation with the now 9 year old, not so much the two year old).
Now as you would assume with kids, lots of unexpected and uncomfortable questions are often asked. Of course you eventually expect the "where do babies come from?" to which I promptly headed off to the book store to purchase Where do I come from?, which we read and re-read together with added questions (and answers along the way). We also got the "Why is it called a penis and how come girls don't have one?", to which I answered and my husband was horrified that we should be talking about penis' and vaginas at the breakfast table. My theory is that you should tackle the topics when they come to hand (time and situation permitting) so that I can hold true to the "you can ask me anything" motto.
The thing with answering such questions honestly is that a small person can only take on so much information at a time. So even if you are brutally honest it might just go over their heads or perhaps even give them unnecessary issues about the topic. So I feel that it is always important to give age specific answers to questions and go back and revisit topics as my children get older and need more of in depth knowledge about stuff.
When we tackled the notion of where he came from (this question came up at around five), this included the proviso that the mum and dad needed to be married. Now that is not to say that babies are not born out of wedlock or that I even have a problem with that happening (which I don't - to each his own), I just didn't want to have to go to far into detail with a call from the principal later in the week because it was a bit hard to put an age limit on it all (who knows how literally kids are going to take your answers "well, I'm a boy and you're a girl so ...." ).
Anyway, he must have taken it all away and mulled it around because about six months later we were walking to school one day and he had more questions about it all - but this time relating to friends of ours, who are also a gay couple. It went something like this "So Charles and Doug are a couple right?" to which I replied the affirmative. "So they have sex then, right?". Again I answered to the affirmative. "So, which one of them will have the baby?". Ahh, a question I had not seen coming and was not prepared for. (Do they have a book at the library about that??) So then we talked about how having a baby required a man and a woman (now remember this is an age appropriate talk - so we didn't discuss how in this modern day and age it is possible to have two mothers or two fathers or just one parent or any other variant, we were just doing the basics). We continued to walk on for a bit in silence and he was obviously still working on this one because later that day we were on a car ride somewhere and he pipes up from the back. "Well, if they can't have a baby then why do they have sex?"
So, at this point I am thinking it's all good to be open to questions but you just never know what your going to get!! Having said that, at least he's getting his information from me instead of some other random primary school kid.
Have you had any "hairy" questions and how did you go with them?
Cheers,
Lee
 Have you ever gotten into the middle of a really riveting discussion about Pokemon you could just not tear yourself away from? No, me neither. But, unfortunately that hasn't stopped me reluctantly being a part of such conversations.
The thing with kids is that you often have to show interest in things because they like them. As a parent I have developed ways in which to deal with such conversations which make it seem like I am interested without me actually having to listen to it. And the lesson is this, just say yes. I developed this technique over multiple story telling sessions involving the latest Pokemon and or Skylander characters (whatever, it doesn't really matter what it was) and I wanted to share it with you.
Now some of you might be horrified by my total lack of interest in my kid's latest interest. But, to you I say, perhaps you have more time or patience on your hands than I do, so good luck to you and you should tune out now.
It all started when I realised that discussions about Pokemon (or whatever) always involved an introductory story. Such as "Mum, you know the Pokemon character named ... " (I have no idea, I tuned out) to which I would reply (more often than not) "Ah, no". Then I would have to spend 20 minutes listening to a story which detailed that particular character and all its attributes before he then launched into another 20 minute story about what the character was up to (which was basically what he had wanted to tell me in the first place, before we got stuck on the back story). So from this I gleaned my new technique. Which goes more like this "Mum, you know the Pokemon character named ..." I would then reply "Yes" and then he would just tell me the one story and it made no difference to my in depth understanding of the character or it's motivation to do what it did. The result of this was that everyone was happy and nobody got hurt.
The only glitch with this technique was that my husband wasn't aware of it. So when we were all in an enclosed space such as the car and we got the inevitable "Dad you know the Pokemon character who...... " and his response was "No". I still had to endure the back story, the actual story and any other related stories once he got on his Pokemon bandwagon and had a captive audience. Obviously I have had to share the technique with his father and we have all gone back to the obligatory one story which is not too bad. The only downer in this story is that whilst I have to ask the 9 year old five (or more times) to set out his school clothes for the next day or feed the dog he must have heard me passing on this tip to his father.
So the next time we were alone and my son said "Mum, you know the Pokemon ..." (you know the rest) and I said "Yes." My 9 year old came back with a wry smile and a "You don't really know do you Mum?" to which I thought for a moment and responded "Well, no. I just want this to be over". He looked at me for a moment and then started to laugh and told me the abridged version of the final story. Although a little white lie is sometimes good for a relationship (no I don't hate your new hair do - it's very fashionable, I just saw it in a magazine), honesty seems to be working alright sometimes too. I guess you have to choose your audience.
So give it a whirl, just say yes.
Cheers,
Lee
Hello there,
Having a baby is hard work and anyone that tells you any different is lying to your face and is not your friend. Being pregnant is also hard - not for all people (and those people I would like to punch) but it certainly was for me. I spent nine months vomiting, with severe headaches, massive mood swings, oily hair and a massive set of bazoombas I had to rest on the table when we went out to give my back a break.
Having said that there are wonderful moments in between and this is my favourite photograph of one of those moments, so I wanted to share it with you. I have this picture on my bedside table and I look at it every night before I go to bed and it makes me smile. Not because I look so tired and warn out (and I do - why wouldn't I, it was bloody hard work!) but because of that little head the size of a grape fruit resting on my shoulder. What an amazing thing! And when my little guy, who is now two came up to me the other day and rested his head against me like that because he was upset, I thought to myself how wonderful it is to be held by someone who loves you unconditionally and who can make you feel better just by wrapping you up in their arms. I would have to say, that's one of the best bits.
Have an amazing weekend.
Cheers,
Lee
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