It's funny, but I have always felt that my biological age was a moot point. After going to university, travelling around the world, getting married, working as a high school teacher, and giving birth three times, you'd think I might start acting like an adult, or at least feeling like one. But I'm afraid that most of the time, my brain is pretty convinced that I'm still seventeen (or thereabouts). There are distinct advantages to this - I can remain entertained by the games of small children for days on end, and I relate well to my more immature students at work. However, I'm sure that if only for my children's wellbeing, I should probably think and act like a grown-up on a regular basis. And stop putting my hair in pig tails.
Today I was put into one of those situations that forces you to be the adult. I tried to wriggle out of it, but it was just no good! The girls and I were on our way to collect Jack from kinder, and we were sitting at a busy intersection waiting for a gap in the traffic. I realised a large dog was running towards our car on the road opposite us, and by some miracle he ran through a gap in the traffic and hid under the front of my car. It was at this point I knew that I had to make a decision...and leaving the dog to keep running wasn't an option! I whacked on the hazard lights, and jumped out of the car. The dog ran straight between my legs (he looked absolutely terrified, the poor thing) so I grabbed his collar and looked for a phone number. Luckily the girls were oblivious to all this - Maisie was staring out the window at the trees, and Phoebs was singing to her doll. One less thing to worry about! It was while rummaging in my nappy bag with the boot open that I realised my mobile was on the kitchen bench. Excellent news. Thank goodness the lovely lady in the car behind me got out to help hold the puppy, and another lady rang the owner on her mobile. Meanwhile, the line of cars banked up behind mine was growing longer, and longer. I was managing to make quite a spectacle of myself (I'm pretty sure my undies were also above the top of my jeans, peeking out from my t-shirt...) holding onto the terrified dog in the middle of the (growing) traffic! Thankfully, a man pulled over on the side of the road and said it was his boss's dog, and the dog leapt gratefully into the back of his Hilux. Woohoo!!! Problem solved!!! I was so relieved that we had saved the puppy from a dangerous situation (and also very, very relieved that I didn't have to put him in the back of my car...). I ran back to my abandoned daughters with a thumping heart, ready to be faced with screaming babies and distressed toddlers. They were both absolutely fine, smiling and looking at all the commotion with aplomb (I think Phoebe was glad the doggy got into someone else's car, though!) And as I drove on to kinder, I realised that for once I had been the grown-up, without really thinking about it. What sort of example would I be setting my kids if I left the dog to run under a car? What would they think if I just turned a blind eye to a difficult situation because someone else might take care of it? When they are adults, I would hope that they would be able to handle any situation life throws at them. It is my responsibility, as their mother, to provide them with the emotional strength and courage to deal with any number of decisions in their lives. And I'm going to begin tomorrow with lesson number one: when you step into the public eye (for example, in busy traffic), always make sure your jeans are pulled up properly to avoid revealing your knick-knacks.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Simple pleasures
Every Sunday morning, our kids have their swimming lessons. It might seem like a big a rigmarole, but I actually really enjoy the fact the whole family troops off to the pool together to get thoroughly chlorinated. Jack is big enough to have a lesson on his own now, so he takes great pride in kicking, paddling and bubbling around in front of us. He has always been a bit of a fish, and would happily splash for most of the day if you let him. Phoebe is close to going on her own, but still has a parent in the pool for half of the lesson. She's a bit more timid than her brother, but is steadily improving and just loves being in the water. Maisie, who has only been having lessons for a few weeks, is an absolute water baby! The little legs kick madly, the hands splash wildly, and if you're not careful, she tries to drink half the pool!! Just like bathtime, come to think of it. The thing I love best about swimming lessons though, is that even though we're doing it to start good water safety habits, to the kids it's just sheer unadulterated fun. They're not particularly fussed about which songs we sing, and they certainly don't give a hoot about proper technique. All they care about is the half an hour they get to spend in the water, and the more puffed they get, the better!
After yesterday's swimming lessons, we came home as usual and let the kids flake out for a few hours. Usually Christian and I use this time to have lunch together, read the papers or get some work done (poor Christian doesn't usually get that much quiet time in our house to do his work...funny that.) Anyway, yesterday we had also arranged to go out and see Aunty Miffy's young gelding at the stables. So after a quick nap, I piled the kids back in the car and went down to the farm where the horsies live. After seeing Stan (the horse...personally I would have named him Willard but there you go!) and giving him a quick pat, we went to the local Golden Arches (which Jack calls Old MacDonalds) for a coffee and a run on the playground. Would you be surprised to hear that my kids thought this was a perfect day? A swim, a horsie up close, and a play on the playground. It doesn't get any better than this!!
This morning, Maisie experienced one of the simple joys of an Australian childhood - Vegemite on toast! I knew she was ready for a proper breakfast when she began drooling over Phoebe's cereal, so I made her some little soldiers, sat back and watched. It's amazing how much pleasure a baby can get out of some toasted bread! She squished it between her fingers, gummed every piece, flung it on the floor...so much fun to be had with such a small snack! (It just takea a lot longer to clean up a baby covered in Vegemite than it does after a breastfeed.....)
Instead of hanging around the house today, we took advantage of the gorgeous weather and headed down to Sorrento with my grandmother to meet my aunty for lunch. Now again, this was a pretty simple day - lunch on the foreshore and a run around on the grass at the beach. However, the day was made golden by several factors: my aunty brought new dollies for Phoebe, some cars and a whistling Vortex for Jack, and some singing car keys for Maisie Mouse. Not only that, she played endlessly with the kids and their new toys all through lunch. In addition to the boring old Vegemite sandwiches Mummy had packed, the big kids also had orange juice and hot chips for lunch (in our allergy-ridden household, this is the equivalent to Beluga caviar...or something really good!!). And then, to cap it all off, my aunty showed the kids how to do roly-polys down a grassy knoll, and then raced them back down the pier to meet the ferry. Seriously, when you were four years old (or nearly three, or seven months old...), wouldn't this sound like a perfect day?
We didn't spend any money on entertainment yesterday or today...we didn't go anywhere extraordinary...we didn't even really do anything that would register on an adult's radar...but over the last two days my kids have had an absolute ball. On both days they were surrounded by lots of adoring family members who spent a lot of time playing with them, and there were new and exciting things to discover: the look on Mummy's face when you splash really hard; what a horse's hair feels like; how dizzy you can get rolling down a hill; how very, very big a ferry looks up close; the taste of Vegemite on a warm piece of toast. I suppose these last two days have taught me something very special: that I should make more of an effort to enjoy every experience just like my kids, and I should make the most of all this wonderment before they turn into cynical teenagers that need expensive entertainment!
After yesterday's swimming lessons, we came home as usual and let the kids flake out for a few hours. Usually Christian and I use this time to have lunch together, read the papers or get some work done (poor Christian doesn't usually get that much quiet time in our house to do his work...funny that.) Anyway, yesterday we had also arranged to go out and see Aunty Miffy's young gelding at the stables. So after a quick nap, I piled the kids back in the car and went down to the farm where the horsies live. After seeing Stan (the horse...personally I would have named him Willard but there you go!) and giving him a quick pat, we went to the local Golden Arches (which Jack calls Old MacDonalds) for a coffee and a run on the playground. Would you be surprised to hear that my kids thought this was a perfect day? A swim, a horsie up close, and a play on the playground. It doesn't get any better than this!!
This morning, Maisie experienced one of the simple joys of an Australian childhood - Vegemite on toast! I knew she was ready for a proper breakfast when she began drooling over Phoebe's cereal, so I made her some little soldiers, sat back and watched. It's amazing how much pleasure a baby can get out of some toasted bread! She squished it between her fingers, gummed every piece, flung it on the floor...so much fun to be had with such a small snack! (It just takea a lot longer to clean up a baby covered in Vegemite than it does after a breastfeed.....)
Instead of hanging around the house today, we took advantage of the gorgeous weather and headed down to Sorrento with my grandmother to meet my aunty for lunch. Now again, this was a pretty simple day - lunch on the foreshore and a run around on the grass at the beach. However, the day was made golden by several factors: my aunty brought new dollies for Phoebe, some cars and a whistling Vortex for Jack, and some singing car keys for Maisie Mouse. Not only that, she played endlessly with the kids and their new toys all through lunch. In addition to the boring old Vegemite sandwiches Mummy had packed, the big kids also had orange juice and hot chips for lunch (in our allergy-ridden household, this is the equivalent to Beluga caviar...or something really good!!). And then, to cap it all off, my aunty showed the kids how to do roly-polys down a grassy knoll, and then raced them back down the pier to meet the ferry. Seriously, when you were four years old (or nearly three, or seven months old...), wouldn't this sound like a perfect day?
We didn't spend any money on entertainment yesterday or today...we didn't go anywhere extraordinary...we didn't even really do anything that would register on an adult's radar...but over the last two days my kids have had an absolute ball. On both days they were surrounded by lots of adoring family members who spent a lot of time playing with them, and there were new and exciting things to discover: the look on Mummy's face when you splash really hard; what a horse's hair feels like; how dizzy you can get rolling down a hill; how very, very big a ferry looks up close; the taste of Vegemite on a warm piece of toast. I suppose these last two days have taught me something very special: that I should make more of an effort to enjoy every experience just like my kids, and I should make the most of all this wonderment before they turn into cynical teenagers that need expensive entertainment!
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Endotarama
Got up at 2.30am to give Jack cough medicine, a drink and a cuddle. Didn't bother me.
Got up at 4.30am to find Phoebe's dummy. That was fine too.
Was woken by cold little feet being put into my side of the bed at 6.30am. Not a problem.
Left Christian to sleep in for a few hours while I made the kids breakfast, dressed them and watched "Finding Emo" (yes, that's right, it's a movie about a search for a troubled teen, I think) for the 20th time this week. Perfectly fine.
Endured several hours of a tired, sick, cranky Jack before he put himself back to bed. No worries.
Cleaned a house on a Saturday mornning, knowing that the same jobs had been performed the day before, and would need to be done again tomorrow. All good.
You may be wondering if I had discovered a secret stash of hallucinogens in the linen cupboard, or perhaps begun drinking absinthe before lunchtime? No, my friends, as tempting as both of those explanations may sound, the reason behind my zen attitude today was quite simple. No matter what happened to me this morning, I knew that I was off to Endota Spa this afternoon for 30 minutes of sheer bliss. That's right - HALF AN HOUR!!!! When Maisie was born, my darling friend Kathryn gave me a 30 minute massage at Endota for a baby gift, and I have only taken seven months to find the time to do it. The enchanting thing about going to Endota, is that there are no phones, no bright lights, no children, no endless, endless questions that would have no logical answer...just a darkened room, soothing music, and aromas that do not make your nose wrinkle and beg the question, "ok, who did THAT one??"
I enjoyed every second of my massage today, even though the time went so fast I am positive we had entered a time warp. My beautiful husband took Maisie out for a walk, my parents-in-law entertained Jack and Phoebalina, and my lovely therapist Ashley took great joy in attempting to beat the tension out of my shoulders (on the questionnaire before I went in, they asked how tense I was on a scale of 1 to 10...I said a 7 because I didn't want to frighten them...I think she guessed I fibbed!!) Now, I know that in itself that 30 minute block of time should have been enough spoiling for one girl in one day. However, we then went on to my brother-in-law's house (just Christian, Maisie and myself), where my dear B-I-L had cooked a roast for dinner. That's right people - no cooking for this little black duck tonight! (And may I say, it was absolutely delicious. I could have eaten the whole thing twice!!) And then, just when it all seemed too good to be true, we watched a DVD without any interruptions, spewing, fights, needing to go the toilet, wanting to change the DVD, or fighting over who was sitting where. How good is that? A whole movie. I was exceptionally impressed with Maisie's ability to curl up and sleep peacefully in my lap. She's very considerate.
And now we are back at home, taking it in turns to go in and cuddle two children who missed us today. Maisie is fast asleep after her adventures with Mummy and Daddy, although for how long I am not sure! I am surrounded by washing waiting to be folded, enough ironing to sink a ship, and an empty pantry. But what a glorious afternoon I had (and I must say, my skin feels lovely and soft...must remember that moisturiser was invented for a reason!). I'm sure if I made the effort I could find half an hour every seven months, or so. In fact, I have up my sleeve a second Endota gift voucher that I received for my birthday from my besties Gertrude and Esmerelda (Don't I have the most gorgeous friends in the world??) . Now all I need to do is convince Christian to take Maisie on a three hour walk....
Got up at 4.30am to find Phoebe's dummy. That was fine too.
Was woken by cold little feet being put into my side of the bed at 6.30am. Not a problem.
Left Christian to sleep in for a few hours while I made the kids breakfast, dressed them and watched "Finding Emo" (yes, that's right, it's a movie about a search for a troubled teen, I think) for the 20th time this week. Perfectly fine.
Endured several hours of a tired, sick, cranky Jack before he put himself back to bed. No worries.
Cleaned a house on a Saturday mornning, knowing that the same jobs had been performed the day before, and would need to be done again tomorrow. All good.
You may be wondering if I had discovered a secret stash of hallucinogens in the linen cupboard, or perhaps begun drinking absinthe before lunchtime? No, my friends, as tempting as both of those explanations may sound, the reason behind my zen attitude today was quite simple. No matter what happened to me this morning, I knew that I was off to Endota Spa this afternoon for 30 minutes of sheer bliss. That's right - HALF AN HOUR!!!! When Maisie was born, my darling friend Kathryn gave me a 30 minute massage at Endota for a baby gift, and I have only taken seven months to find the time to do it. The enchanting thing about going to Endota, is that there are no phones, no bright lights, no children, no endless, endless questions that would have no logical answer...just a darkened room, soothing music, and aromas that do not make your nose wrinkle and beg the question, "ok, who did THAT one??"
I enjoyed every second of my massage today, even though the time went so fast I am positive we had entered a time warp. My beautiful husband took Maisie out for a walk, my parents-in-law entertained Jack and Phoebalina, and my lovely therapist Ashley took great joy in attempting to beat the tension out of my shoulders (on the questionnaire before I went in, they asked how tense I was on a scale of 1 to 10...I said a 7 because I didn't want to frighten them...I think she guessed I fibbed!!) Now, I know that in itself that 30 minute block of time should have been enough spoiling for one girl in one day. However, we then went on to my brother-in-law's house (just Christian, Maisie and myself), where my dear B-I-L had cooked a roast for dinner. That's right people - no cooking for this little black duck tonight! (And may I say, it was absolutely delicious. I could have eaten the whole thing twice!!) And then, just when it all seemed too good to be true, we watched a DVD without any interruptions, spewing, fights, needing to go the toilet, wanting to change the DVD, or fighting over who was sitting where. How good is that? A whole movie. I was exceptionally impressed with Maisie's ability to curl up and sleep peacefully in my lap. She's very considerate.
And now we are back at home, taking it in turns to go in and cuddle two children who missed us today. Maisie is fast asleep after her adventures with Mummy and Daddy, although for how long I am not sure! I am surrounded by washing waiting to be folded, enough ironing to sink a ship, and an empty pantry. But what a glorious afternoon I had (and I must say, my skin feels lovely and soft...must remember that moisturiser was invented for a reason!). I'm sure if I made the effort I could find half an hour every seven months, or so. In fact, I have up my sleeve a second Endota gift voucher that I received for my birthday from my besties Gertrude and Esmerelda (Don't I have the most gorgeous friends in the world??) . Now all I need to do is convince Christian to take Maisie on a three hour walk....
Friday, August 27, 2010
Gertrude and Ermintrude
When you are feeling as sick as a dog, the kids are crabby because it's Friday, it's raining, and you've got more washing to do than is humanly decent, there's only one thing in this world that will make you feel better. (And no, it's not a whisky mac at lunchtime...) Nothing at all can make you happier than an afternoon spent with a couple of your closest, oldest friends. I spent today with two of my favourite ladies, whom we shall name Gertrude and Ermintrude. These girls have been friends of mine since high school, and to describe them as my extended family is an understatement. I am so very lucky to have such gorgeous friends who support me no matter what, and who are always willing to hold whichever child needs holding when two hands is no where near enough!!
People always joke about women going on maternity leave and becoming addicted to Days Of Our Lives and Oprah...although I will admit to watching Oprah occasionally, it's usually just so there's a bit of company in the room when all the kids are having a nap (a rarity, I assure you!!!! With three in the house, it's a strange day indeed when they're all down for a sleep at the same time...I get too suspicious to enjoy it!) Although I love being at home with the kids, and I acknowledge that maternity leave is a luxury that not all women get to enjoy, we forget that a lot of the time we leave our social networks in the office when maternity leave begins. I know for a fact that when I am working, I have an instant group of friends who I see in the staff room every day. I never need to schedule time to see them, but rather just enjoy a constant stream of adult company throughout the day (a necessity when dealing with teenagers in an educational setting!). Being a stay-at-home mum, it's very easy to pass several days without seeing anybody other than shopkeepers, and sometimes nobody at all. I know I have caught myself more than once speaking to inanimate objects without any concerns about my sanity. It's not a deliberate act of becoming a recluse, but rather the simple day-to-day management of living with small children - do I need to go out today, or is it easier to stay at home??
Having a group of girlfriends who you can turn to in any situation is one of the most important resources a mother can have. I know that I could have turned up to Ermintrude's house today in my jarmies, and she would have greeted me with the same warm hug as always (and come to think of it, a long, long time ago I'm pretty sure the three of us spent our fair share of time hanging out in our pjs...usually the morning after the night before!!) I always knew my girlfriends were special, but it is evident after today that both Gertrude and Ermintrude possess super powers, for when I left them I felt like a new woman. After just a few hours of chatting, having some lunch, and watching our children play happily together, I felt recharged and ready to face the vigours of peak-hour traffic in the rain. Even though I drove for several hours today for our lunchtime visit, it was worth every minute. Jack spent a great deal of the trip home asking (whining) why we were leaving, and asking (demanding) when we were going back. How fantastic for me, that not only did I get to spend a magic day with my girls, but that our kids get along so well? (Obviously, when we were schoolgirls we knew our kids would be best firiends, or else!!)
From the bottom of my heart, thank you Ermintrude and Gertrude, for a day I truly needed. Thank you for a delicious lunch, a staircase to keep Phoebe enchanted, friends to keep Jack entertained, cuddles to keep Maisie happy, and love to make my heart full again. I only hope that I can return the favour for you when you need it. I will always be here xxx
People always joke about women going on maternity leave and becoming addicted to Days Of Our Lives and Oprah...although I will admit to watching Oprah occasionally, it's usually just so there's a bit of company in the room when all the kids are having a nap (a rarity, I assure you!!!! With three in the house, it's a strange day indeed when they're all down for a sleep at the same time...I get too suspicious to enjoy it!) Although I love being at home with the kids, and I acknowledge that maternity leave is a luxury that not all women get to enjoy, we forget that a lot of the time we leave our social networks in the office when maternity leave begins. I know for a fact that when I am working, I have an instant group of friends who I see in the staff room every day. I never need to schedule time to see them, but rather just enjoy a constant stream of adult company throughout the day (a necessity when dealing with teenagers in an educational setting!). Being a stay-at-home mum, it's very easy to pass several days without seeing anybody other than shopkeepers, and sometimes nobody at all. I know I have caught myself more than once speaking to inanimate objects without any concerns about my sanity. It's not a deliberate act of becoming a recluse, but rather the simple day-to-day management of living with small children - do I need to go out today, or is it easier to stay at home??
Having a group of girlfriends who you can turn to in any situation is one of the most important resources a mother can have. I know that I could have turned up to Ermintrude's house today in my jarmies, and she would have greeted me with the same warm hug as always (and come to think of it, a long, long time ago I'm pretty sure the three of us spent our fair share of time hanging out in our pjs...usually the morning after the night before!!) I always knew my girlfriends were special, but it is evident after today that both Gertrude and Ermintrude possess super powers, for when I left them I felt like a new woman. After just a few hours of chatting, having some lunch, and watching our children play happily together, I felt recharged and ready to face the vigours of peak-hour traffic in the rain. Even though I drove for several hours today for our lunchtime visit, it was worth every minute. Jack spent a great deal of the trip home asking (whining) why we were leaving, and asking (demanding) when we were going back. How fantastic for me, that not only did I get to spend a magic day with my girls, but that our kids get along so well? (Obviously, when we were schoolgirls we knew our kids would be best firiends, or else!!)
From the bottom of my heart, thank you Ermintrude and Gertrude, for a day I truly needed. Thank you for a delicious lunch, a staircase to keep Phoebe enchanted, friends to keep Jack entertained, cuddles to keep Maisie happy, and love to make my heart full again. I only hope that I can return the favour for you when you need it. I will always be here xxx
Thursday, August 26, 2010
zzzzzzzzzzzzzz
When I was 21, I could stay out pretty much all night, get up and go to work (providing abysmal customer service, of course!!) and be ready for another night out after a short kip on the couch. I distinctly remember discovering the restorative effects of Vegemite on toast after only two hours' sleep, and mustering up the courage to venture forth into the land of clubbing for several nights in a row. Back then, my biggest concern was having enough energy to dance, and my most pressing responsibility was looking vaguely interested when speaking to customers at work. And then, of course, when it was all too much I could simply go to bed early and catch up on as much sleep as I liked. Those were the days.
Since Team O'Toole arrived to brighten our lives, sleep deprivation has become pretty standard in our house. Now, I know I'm stating the obvious for any family with young children, especially three babies within four years. I also realise that I have been blessed with relatively good sleepers, as all of my kids have "slept through" from quite young ages. However, most nights we get up a few times to retrieve dummies, give drinks of water, change wet beds, distribute cuddles after bad dreams, or just plain old breastfeed (usually this is my job, not Christian's!!) I think most mummies and daddies operate with a thin veneer of sleep deprivation 99% of the time, and we just get on with it because it's normal. But every now and then, a particularly bad night can throw a spanner in the works in a big way. Last night was one of the those nights.
Poor old Jack has had a cough for quite a few weeks now, a niggling dry cough that bothers him predominantly in the evening and early morning. Last night he coughed non-stop from the time he went to bed, and no cough medicine in the world could help him. His coughing woke Maisie, who started to cry. Her crying woke everyone else, leading to more coughing, crying from Phoebe, and desperate attempts to end the chaos from Mummy and Daddy. After almost two hours of trying to settle Maisie (every time she stopped crying, Jack coughed again. You could practically hear it coming...), I gave up and took Jack and Maisie out to the loungeroom, propped him up on a arm chair, popped Mais onto the boob, and tried not to acknowledge the fact it was 3.30am. Meanwhile, Christian tried to convince Phoebe that the world was not ending if Jack was out of his bed, and spent the rest of the night putting her back into bed. All up, I calculate the family got about 45 minutes sleep in total, which made me a very attractive specimen this morning.
Christian left for work at 6.30, as normal, and the day began as well as it could. I think I coped pretty well, all things considered. I only put the car keys in the freezer once. I remembered that the kids had appointments for haircuts, and actually drove to the right place (although I think I might have driven a fair bit under the speed limit...) I'm pretty sure I fed the kids, although I couldn't tell you what I put on the plates! Maisie spent a great deal of time yawning theatrically in her car seat, like a little diva we had rudely kept awake! I made it to Jack's appointment with the doctor on time, and stayed awake on the ultra-comfy waiting room chairs. I think my red-rimmed eyes and down-trodden expression even helped keep the bank open for five minutes when I arrived at closing time. I went to put Maisie to bed, and walked into the toilet instead (and then had no idea what I was doing in there!?!) I do feel a bit sorry for my lovely friends who will have to consume the cake I have just made, as I have no idea what ingredients went into it. (If I just slather it with pink icing, it should be ok, right??) It is now just after 9pm, and it would appear that Maisie is too tired for her last feed. If I get ready for bed now, it should guarantee that she'll wake up in ten minutes, shouldn't it? If I prop her up with me in an armchair, I might even be able to doze.........zzzzzzzzzzz.
Since Team O'Toole arrived to brighten our lives, sleep deprivation has become pretty standard in our house. Now, I know I'm stating the obvious for any family with young children, especially three babies within four years. I also realise that I have been blessed with relatively good sleepers, as all of my kids have "slept through" from quite young ages. However, most nights we get up a few times to retrieve dummies, give drinks of water, change wet beds, distribute cuddles after bad dreams, or just plain old breastfeed (usually this is my job, not Christian's!!) I think most mummies and daddies operate with a thin veneer of sleep deprivation 99% of the time, and we just get on with it because it's normal. But every now and then, a particularly bad night can throw a spanner in the works in a big way. Last night was one of the those nights.
Poor old Jack has had a cough for quite a few weeks now, a niggling dry cough that bothers him predominantly in the evening and early morning. Last night he coughed non-stop from the time he went to bed, and no cough medicine in the world could help him. His coughing woke Maisie, who started to cry. Her crying woke everyone else, leading to more coughing, crying from Phoebe, and desperate attempts to end the chaos from Mummy and Daddy. After almost two hours of trying to settle Maisie (every time she stopped crying, Jack coughed again. You could practically hear it coming...), I gave up and took Jack and Maisie out to the loungeroom, propped him up on a arm chair, popped Mais onto the boob, and tried not to acknowledge the fact it was 3.30am. Meanwhile, Christian tried to convince Phoebe that the world was not ending if Jack was out of his bed, and spent the rest of the night putting her back into bed. All up, I calculate the family got about 45 minutes sleep in total, which made me a very attractive specimen this morning.
Christian left for work at 6.30, as normal, and the day began as well as it could. I think I coped pretty well, all things considered. I only put the car keys in the freezer once. I remembered that the kids had appointments for haircuts, and actually drove to the right place (although I think I might have driven a fair bit under the speed limit...) I'm pretty sure I fed the kids, although I couldn't tell you what I put on the plates! Maisie spent a great deal of time yawning theatrically in her car seat, like a little diva we had rudely kept awake! I made it to Jack's appointment with the doctor on time, and stayed awake on the ultra-comfy waiting room chairs. I think my red-rimmed eyes and down-trodden expression even helped keep the bank open for five minutes when I arrived at closing time. I went to put Maisie to bed, and walked into the toilet instead (and then had no idea what I was doing in there!?!) I do feel a bit sorry for my lovely friends who will have to consume the cake I have just made, as I have no idea what ingredients went into it. (If I just slather it with pink icing, it should be ok, right??) It is now just after 9pm, and it would appear that Maisie is too tired for her last feed. If I get ready for bed now, it should guarantee that she'll wake up in ten minutes, shouldn't it? If I prop her up with me in an armchair, I might even be able to doze.........zzzzzzzzzzz.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Struggletown
I have spent all day today craving naughty things. It's been a long time since I've been even remotely swayed, but today I struggled badly. You know what I'm talking about. Chocolate. Sourdough bread. Peanut butter. Chocolate. Lasagne. Cheese. Chocolate. Considering the fact that Mais and I hunkered down inside today and cleaned like fiends (well, I cleaned madly in an attempt to escape my food demons, and she watched from her activity centre and laughed her little cotton socks off at my antics), I think my efforts at resisting the forbidden foods were admirable.
Did I mention the elimination diet??
Before you misunderstand me, I am not on a crazy post-baby weight-loss diet. I fall very definitely into the camp of women-who-cannot-lose-weight-while-breastfeeding-even-if-their-lives-depend-on-it. I know this because I could not lose an ounce before Jack was 10 months old and he weaned himself, and then it all seemed to sort itself out (as long as I steered clear of the obvious speed humps!!) I know that I ate my way through PND after Phoebe couldn't breastfeed, which would explain why the weight didn't drop until I dropped the plate. Maisie is currently approaching the 8 month mark with gusto, and although I have no intentions of weaning her, I am crossing my fingers that the body will start resuming something close to a normal shape in the near future. But I digress.
When Jack was very, very tiny, I visited a naturopath about his colic and eczema, and tried an elimination diet to see if any of the foods I was eating were affecting him. I think a few people thought I was crackers, but I was willing to try anything if it stopped his red raw, bleeding skin and screaming. It turned out that he was extremely allergic to eggs and dairy food, and to this day is under the care of a specialist paediatrician. When Maisie started presenting the same symptoms a few months ago, I thought the logical thing to do would be to try eliminating foods again. This time I had the help of my beautiful friend Holly, who is now my naturopath (and one of Phoebe's favourite people!). We decided to eliminate not only eggs, dairy and wheat, but also a group called salicylates. In a healthy nutshell, basically I removed all foods except rice, leeks, celery, carrots, meat, fish, soy products and golden syrup from my diet. Although it sounds dreadful, the results were evident in Maisie's skin almost immediately which made it completely worth the effort. It has also forced me to become inventive in my cooking (although the humble roast has featured rather heavily on our dinner table of late!!) and buy lots of fresh food. Whenever I crave something sweet, I have golden syrup on toast (oat bread, of course!!) or this gorgeous apple butter I found in the health food shop for hippies. It hasn't been that difficult, and when I go out for coffee I just order a decaf soy latte and endure the raised eyebrows.
But today, oh today I struggled. I was the number one citizen in Struggletown. All I could think of was eating all the things that would make my baby sick, and what sort of mother would I be if I sacrificed that creamy eczema-free skin for a slice of pizza?? So I did what all mothers are exceptionally good at doing: I played pretend. Craving raisin toast? Have some puffed rice instead. Desperate for thick crusty bread with peanut butter? Have some wheat-free bread with salmon and soy cream cheese. Is it chocolate you're after? Look out the window and dream!!!!!! My darling husband is currently cranking up the coffee machine to make me my nighttime decaf soy latte (the bonuses of no caffeine!!) which will stem the hunger pangs and hopefully keep my sweet tooth happy for another day. And my sweet little bubba is fast asleep, without scratching, or puking, or screaming....and that in itself is enough for me to know that although I may have been in Struggletown today, it would seem that we have left the city limits. And tomorrow? What am I going to do tomorrow? Tomorrow, I am going to face my demons head on, stare them down, and then bake the wickedest egg/dairy/wheat-free cake that I can possibly dream up, and devour the lot!!!!
Did I mention the elimination diet??
Before you misunderstand me, I am not on a crazy post-baby weight-loss diet. I fall very definitely into the camp of women-who-cannot-lose-weight-while-breastfeeding-even-if-their-lives-depend-on-it. I know this because I could not lose an ounce before Jack was 10 months old and he weaned himself, and then it all seemed to sort itself out (as long as I steered clear of the obvious speed humps!!) I know that I ate my way through PND after Phoebe couldn't breastfeed, which would explain why the weight didn't drop until I dropped the plate. Maisie is currently approaching the 8 month mark with gusto, and although I have no intentions of weaning her, I am crossing my fingers that the body will start resuming something close to a normal shape in the near future. But I digress.
When Jack was very, very tiny, I visited a naturopath about his colic and eczema, and tried an elimination diet to see if any of the foods I was eating were affecting him. I think a few people thought I was crackers, but I was willing to try anything if it stopped his red raw, bleeding skin and screaming. It turned out that he was extremely allergic to eggs and dairy food, and to this day is under the care of a specialist paediatrician. When Maisie started presenting the same symptoms a few months ago, I thought the logical thing to do would be to try eliminating foods again. This time I had the help of my beautiful friend Holly, who is now my naturopath (and one of Phoebe's favourite people!). We decided to eliminate not only eggs, dairy and wheat, but also a group called salicylates. In a healthy nutshell, basically I removed all foods except rice, leeks, celery, carrots, meat, fish, soy products and golden syrup from my diet. Although it sounds dreadful, the results were evident in Maisie's skin almost immediately which made it completely worth the effort. It has also forced me to become inventive in my cooking (although the humble roast has featured rather heavily on our dinner table of late!!) and buy lots of fresh food. Whenever I crave something sweet, I have golden syrup on toast (oat bread, of course!!) or this gorgeous apple butter I found in the health food shop for hippies. It hasn't been that difficult, and when I go out for coffee I just order a decaf soy latte and endure the raised eyebrows.
But today, oh today I struggled. I was the number one citizen in Struggletown. All I could think of was eating all the things that would make my baby sick, and what sort of mother would I be if I sacrificed that creamy eczema-free skin for a slice of pizza?? So I did what all mothers are exceptionally good at doing: I played pretend. Craving raisin toast? Have some puffed rice instead. Desperate for thick crusty bread with peanut butter? Have some wheat-free bread with salmon and soy cream cheese. Is it chocolate you're after? Look out the window and dream!!!!!! My darling husband is currently cranking up the coffee machine to make me my nighttime decaf soy latte (the bonuses of no caffeine!!) which will stem the hunger pangs and hopefully keep my sweet tooth happy for another day. And my sweet little bubba is fast asleep, without scratching, or puking, or screaming....and that in itself is enough for me to know that although I may have been in Struggletown today, it would seem that we have left the city limits. And tomorrow? What am I going to do tomorrow? Tomorrow, I am going to face my demons head on, stare them down, and then bake the wickedest egg/dairy/wheat-free cake that I can possibly dream up, and devour the lot!!!!
Monday, August 23, 2010
The Sentimental Mummy
Today was one of those idyllic days of childhood (or motherhood, if I'm to be totally precise!!). There was nothing remarkable about it, nothing that would create a significant memory or milestone, but I hope that when my children are great big galloping teenagers, I remember vestiges of today. As you can probably already guess, rather than simply enjoying the moment I became so sentimental at the thought of fleeting childhood that I got teary! But we'll get to that later.
It was so gorgeous and breezy outside this morning, and the kids just pottered around the front garden while I hung clothes out to dry. Maisie was having a really long morning nap (she has settled herself into a fantastic routine all by herself, so who am I to argue?) so the three of us played with cars, rolled balls and just hung out in the sunshine. Phoebe made up a little song to go with her ramblings around the garden, and Jack competed with himself to see how many times he could crash his remote control car. We went inside for lunch when Mais woke up, and then it was Phoebalina's turn for a nap. Jack settled down with some books while Maisie and I had a feed (another excuse for a cuddle!!), and when Phoebe woke up we went on an excursion to the supermarket. Not a particularly special day, right? We still had squabbles, flung food on the walls, had exploding nappies and refused to eat our peas. But today something made me look at my kids and see how quickly this phase of my life is going.
In a few short months, Jack will be preparing to start primary school. My sweet, funny, grown-up little man, who still at times displays the characteristics he had as a baby, will soon be going off to be a Preppy. He is so very excited about going to "big school". I, on the other hand, am going to save how I feel for a day when I can explain without blubbing! Today I watched Jack play with his sisters, concentrate on his cars, whoop with joy while riding a shopping trolley, and I realised that the carefree days of doing nothing special with Jack are numbered. In a very short period of time, he will be gone from us for most of the day, doing all sorts of wonderful thing with new teachers and new friends. The days of dagging around the house will be limited to the weekends, and a tiny part of my boy will be lost to growing up.
Phoebe will be a big three-year-old birthday girl in a few weeks. She is so very excited about being a "big girl". I, on the other hand, am going to save how I feel for a day when I can explain without blubbing! She seems to have matured very rapidly in the last month - she speaks much more clearly, she has grown noticeably taller, she is much more confident (and just between you and me, somewhere along the line she has learned how to dance like a teenager...and not from me!!) Phoebe has a very dry sense of humour which I am sure is going to get her in trouble when she is older - she even knows how to raise one eyebrow! And just when I look at her and wonder where my tiny little baby has gone, she will come over and bury her face into my leg. Those small hands that are losing their baby chubbiness will wrap around me, and she will look up with enormous blue eyes and say, "Mummy, I need a cuddle", or "Mummy, I want you". How long will she be so without guile? How long will a cuddle from me be enough to make her day happy? All I can do is treasure these moments in the hope that my baby girl will never grow out of needing cuddles from Mumma.
And what of my littlest one? Maisie, who feels so big in my arms now, who tries to keep up with the older kids? Like her sister, she seems so very excited about becoming a "big girl". I, on the other hand, am going to save how I feel for a day when I can explain without blubbing! She is already trying to move, something which her brother and sister didn't bother with for a very long time. At every opportunity, Maisie tries to talk, and grab things, and interact with her family. She mastered blowing raspberries today, an accomplishment which she was so patently proud of that she did it all day! I celebrate every new thing she learns to do, while desperately wishing I could hold onto her babyhood.
I know it's impossible to be sad when you have children who are happy, healthy, and are striding along their own merry pathway through life. I suppose I should be leaping with joy at the thought that they are confident and secure enough to try and make their own way, while knowing that Mumma and Daddy are right behind them whenever they need us. And for that reason, I am going to make a conscious effort to remember today as an example of all that is good about staying at home with my babies. What a lucky woman I am to have experienced a sunny, calm day with my kids, where all I had to worry about was getting a double-toddler trolley at Coles. And I suppose if I'm really honest, they're still a fair way off being completely grown-up...after all, this morning I watched Phoebe dress up in a fairy costume, plonk herself down on the potty (fully clothed!) and watch Pingu with her baby doll...I watched Jack make a train track, completely absorbed in his trains and making little stories up with his face level with the floor...and yesterday I watched Maisie in Daddy's arms in the swimming pool, delightedly splashing her chubby little legs, and looking so tiny and new. There is so much that is wonderful about these ages and stages, and it is this thought I must hold on to during the next rainy day when the balance of adorable toddlerhood and feral childhood goes awry!
It was so gorgeous and breezy outside this morning, and the kids just pottered around the front garden while I hung clothes out to dry. Maisie was having a really long morning nap (she has settled herself into a fantastic routine all by herself, so who am I to argue?) so the three of us played with cars, rolled balls and just hung out in the sunshine. Phoebe made up a little song to go with her ramblings around the garden, and Jack competed with himself to see how many times he could crash his remote control car. We went inside for lunch when Mais woke up, and then it was Phoebalina's turn for a nap. Jack settled down with some books while Maisie and I had a feed (another excuse for a cuddle!!), and when Phoebe woke up we went on an excursion to the supermarket. Not a particularly special day, right? We still had squabbles, flung food on the walls, had exploding nappies and refused to eat our peas. But today something made me look at my kids and see how quickly this phase of my life is going.
In a few short months, Jack will be preparing to start primary school. My sweet, funny, grown-up little man, who still at times displays the characteristics he had as a baby, will soon be going off to be a Preppy. He is so very excited about going to "big school". I, on the other hand, am going to save how I feel for a day when I can explain without blubbing! Today I watched Jack play with his sisters, concentrate on his cars, whoop with joy while riding a shopping trolley, and I realised that the carefree days of doing nothing special with Jack are numbered. In a very short period of time, he will be gone from us for most of the day, doing all sorts of wonderful thing with new teachers and new friends. The days of dagging around the house will be limited to the weekends, and a tiny part of my boy will be lost to growing up.
Phoebe will be a big three-year-old birthday girl in a few weeks. She is so very excited about being a "big girl". I, on the other hand, am going to save how I feel for a day when I can explain without blubbing! She seems to have matured very rapidly in the last month - she speaks much more clearly, she has grown noticeably taller, she is much more confident (and just between you and me, somewhere along the line she has learned how to dance like a teenager...and not from me!!) Phoebe has a very dry sense of humour which I am sure is going to get her in trouble when she is older - she even knows how to raise one eyebrow! And just when I look at her and wonder where my tiny little baby has gone, she will come over and bury her face into my leg. Those small hands that are losing their baby chubbiness will wrap around me, and she will look up with enormous blue eyes and say, "Mummy, I need a cuddle", or "Mummy, I want you". How long will she be so without guile? How long will a cuddle from me be enough to make her day happy? All I can do is treasure these moments in the hope that my baby girl will never grow out of needing cuddles from Mumma.
And what of my littlest one? Maisie, who feels so big in my arms now, who tries to keep up with the older kids? Like her sister, she seems so very excited about becoming a "big girl". I, on the other hand, am going to save how I feel for a day when I can explain without blubbing! She is already trying to move, something which her brother and sister didn't bother with for a very long time. At every opportunity, Maisie tries to talk, and grab things, and interact with her family. She mastered blowing raspberries today, an accomplishment which she was so patently proud of that she did it all day! I celebrate every new thing she learns to do, while desperately wishing I could hold onto her babyhood.
I know it's impossible to be sad when you have children who are happy, healthy, and are striding along their own merry pathway through life. I suppose I should be leaping with joy at the thought that they are confident and secure enough to try and make their own way, while knowing that Mumma and Daddy are right behind them whenever they need us. And for that reason, I am going to make a conscious effort to remember today as an example of all that is good about staying at home with my babies. What a lucky woman I am to have experienced a sunny, calm day with my kids, where all I had to worry about was getting a double-toddler trolley at Coles. And I suppose if I'm really honest, they're still a fair way off being completely grown-up...after all, this morning I watched Phoebe dress up in a fairy costume, plonk herself down on the potty (fully clothed!) and watch Pingu with her baby doll...I watched Jack make a train track, completely absorbed in his trains and making little stories up with his face level with the floor...and yesterday I watched Maisie in Daddy's arms in the swimming pool, delightedly splashing her chubby little legs, and looking so tiny and new. There is so much that is wonderful about these ages and stages, and it is this thought I must hold on to during the next rainy day when the balance of adorable toddlerhood and feral childhood goes awry!
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