Sleep torture

Lots of topics have come to the fore of my brain this week – it’s been another stress filled week, where my son has come down with gastro a second time, really badly, after having it last week and being temporarily sick with it, then having it move through the family, one by one, gradually recovering. This time, as if a cruel cosmic prank has been played on us, he has a night time cough, so that by day, we are changing nappies all the time, and at night, our sleep is interrupted by coughing at the least, and at other times a very upset little boy, working himself up into an inconsolable frenzy of coughing, crying, frustration at not being able to say what he wants to, and on 2 occasions, being sick all over me, so that we both have to have a midnight shower while Dad frantically cleans up around the place. Situations around you can seem worse than they actually are, in these conditions...

- To work or not to work?
That is not really the question. I kind of need to for now. But I'm beginning to see the attraction of being a full time mother. Especially when illnesses strike repeatedly. Cold after flu after gastro and back again at the beginning. It's wearing down our defenses. No matter how understanding your boss, or how family friendly your work-place's policies are, it's one of the downsides of being a working parent. Your private life is always thrust out there for all to see... "my son is sick, I have to work a half day today"... or "my son is sick, and my partner can't take today off". No matter whether you have enough leave, or if you make the time up later, you always feel as if you are on the back foot, in a poorer negotiating position.
I chat to my Mum about how they made do with less and she stayed home until I was three, then worked night shift at a nursing home so that she could be home for us. She was in the same boat as us, with all her family interstate as we grew up, but then airfares were more expensive and child care rare. But I also know for much of my childhood, my mother was unfulfilled on many levels. C-chan and I also think it would be preferable for us both to maybe work 3 or 4 days, or something like that. We'll aim for that in the long run. However on some levels I do think that E-chan benefits from his days in care - he's learning to share, care and befriend.

-Sick with worry...
E-chan has been sick so much this year, I'm beginning to worry about him. All anecdotal evidence suggests that in a few years, his immune system will strengthen, and he'll start fighting off more bugs than he comes down with. The Doctor has a sample in for analysis, says only time will mend things, and for him to rest, eat what he can and try to avoid lactose in case gastro-induced intolerance has set in. He's not dehydrated, and much of the day he seems happy and quite active. His height and weight are average, not below. He's delightful to be around most of the time (except when having the requisite 2 year old tantrum). But I hate to see him suffering - coughing and spluttering in the middle of the night, with a "tummy sore! tummy sore!", and NOT A THING I CAN DO ABOUT IT but give him cuddles, kisses, water, and maybe get him interested in a book to distract him from his aches, pains and coughing spasms.

- Career crisis #46
What area should I work in? Will I ever get to work in a field again that I really believe in? When and what might I study in the future? Is my career going backwards? Yawn.

- Why have my last 2 bosses been the same type of personality??
Having realised in the the last month that my current and last boss have both been of a similar personality, I this week almost wanted to give up. Too hard. (see below). Is dealing with these kinds of people a lesson the cosmos has decided I must learn? Do my bosses pick me because they think I'm a pushover and can boss me around? Why does it bug me that a Boss can boss me around - isn't that what bosses do? I know how to deal with them, so why don't I just do that? Why am I so bloody willful at times? Is it that hard to change as a just-over-30-year-old?

- I really need more than 3 hours sleep to function properly...
The actual source of most of my problems, insecurities, neuroses, tears and feelings of unempowerment this week, is sleep deprivation I realise, when I get out into the sunshine and talk to some friends.

- I am supermum!!
While Ethan was not fully recovered, he demanded to go to playgroup on his usual day. Climbed in the pram and waited for me to get ready, but insisting all the while we go to playgroup. So we got there late and left early, so he could have his fix of sandpits, toy kitchens, and trikes (I was careful to avoid contaminating others, and he mostly played on his own). I was on dishwashing duty and my phone rang, and it was a work related matter. I managed to hold an intelligent, 5 minute long conversation with someone whilst doing the dishes and keeping an eye on my 2-year-old. There wasn't even a moment later where I realised I omitted to say something, or said something wrong. I pulled off some multi-tasking there, and it felt fabulous! All is not quite that bad perhaps.

- Don Bradman's bloody cricket bat up for auction (again), a.k.a. "I can't believe the news today"
Is it just me, or does some Don Bradman memorabilia seem to be up for auction just about every week? I've yet to find a person who cares. So why does it keep turning up on the news and in papers? And in other news, greedy, large banking corporations are failing and going bankrupt and getting bailed out with hundreds of billions of dollars, while millions of middle to low income earners are being evicted, seeing their property's value plummet, or at the best, just managing to scrape together their mortgage payments, with no such help from their government. Even if every American citizen was given a million dollars, it would cost less than a billion dollars. Where is the equity in that?

- my friends are lovely
I'm inspired by my friends this week, they do all sorts of amazing things. They publish their own zines; they live overseas and work freelance; they suffer miscarriages and burst into tears telling us about it, but still see it from a philosophical perspective; they stick to their dreams, they say things like "they almost had us by the tits" instead of the masculine "they had us by the balls" in meetings and don't care that more conventional people sitting around the table are mouths agape (how I miss working with her!); they read books comparing Orwell and Evelyn Waugh and in her mummy-brain moment, mentions it to her mum-friends, apparently unaware that most of our company haven't read books by either of these authors (and even I, the next most well read in the group, could not get past the first page of Brideshead Revisited, despite having read a few Orwells). But what a mummy-brain moment to have?
And best of all, some of these new friends I've made since having E-chan are beginning to feel like old friends, like family.

Quote of the week...

Australia's Governor-General, Ms Quentin Bryce says:

I've been saying to young women, you can have it all but not all at the same time, and how important it is to take very good care of yourself, of your mental and physical and spiritual wellbeing.

Cheers to that!

Blog stalker!

I've checked out some new Blogger features, and tried to add a Blog roll, but it makes me look like a blog stalker! All I want is to be notified when certain blogs update, so I don't have have to check all the time.

this'n'that

I'm watching vintage (80's) play school videos - well someone else is and I can't help but see the odd snippet. Leggings and big baggy t-shirts were a really bad look, I reckon. I have been guilty of wearing this combination, but only to the gym or to bed, so I think I can be forgiven - anyone would look at me and say "oh, she's going to the gym...". I hope.

(That's E-chan in the blue t-shirt, by the way...)

We had a housewarming party on the weekend! House is warm now! The place was full of toddlers - literally kids climbing the stairs, driving trucks and trains along, transporting ice from the grog trough to the pot plant and back again, pinching cheese from the table and going off into the corner to eat it! Somewhere in the past year or two, our balance of friends has shifted to mostly include families with young kids, while our single/child-free friends avoid our parties like a plague... or so it seems. And an absolute champion and her Auntie stayed late and helped tidy up! Thank you!

The grand plan was to have video footage of the house, and put it up on a Schmacebook virtual party website, so folks from out of town could have a tour of the new house. But alas, the cord linking the video to the computer is still at large (put it down to things not yet finding their proper spot since we moved house...). So they had to make do with fancy real estate agent shots and random party snapshots.

Lessons in giving titles to modern ladies

(AKA Part 2 of the below post)
(AKA stop me if you've heard this one before...)

Contrary to popular belief, changing your surname upon getting married is not easy, and along with having to provide your marriage certificate to the Births Deaths and Marriages Dept along with filling out forms, there are UMPTEEN places you then have to change your name (all those bank accounts, assets, utilities etc etc). This added up to TOO MUCH WORK for me, along with the fact that I'm quite fond of my family name and who it connects me to, no matter how often it is misspelt or misheard.

BUT. Being married does not automatically make me a Mrs!

Lets say for example, Miss Green marries Mr Brown, but doesn't change her surname. Why would you then start to call Miss Green "Mrs Green"? She is not married to someone with the same surname as her (hopefully not a cousin...?), and she is not a married woman living in sin with a Mr Brown! Nor would it be really appropriate to continue to be known as Miss Green (if she ever did). This seems to be a huge problem for people out there. "oh no! She's married, but has a different name to her spouse!! What do we do?!!".

The answer is simple, people.

Ms.

I know it's not everyone's favourite, but like using the title "Mr", your marital status doesn't matter, nor does your age.

Please move with the times people.

----

That being said, I don't take offence if people address letters to "Mr and Mrs Brown" (using the above example) or "The Brown Family". I know who they mean.

Does that make me conflicted?

How long has it been since the feminist movement now?

We just had people over - mums I know from our antenatal class plus their toddlers. We catch up every few months or so.

C-chan was up at the crack of dawn* making mini-cupcakes, then decorating them with simple letters of the alphabet. Pretty darn tasty, if you ask me! He also cut up fruit on a platter, while I put ham and cheese in small croissants, did the dishes and swanned about in my ugg boots. Team effort, really, as is usual in our household when we're both there.

Result: "Oh, Meririsa! wonderful cupcakes! Wow, you've put on all this food."

I didn't hear this therefore couldn't correct them, and C-chan smiled gracefully and was too modest to say he'd made a majority of the food. I think in future I'm going to make the assumption (when visiting a household with a heterosexual couple) that the male did the cooking - "oh Bob!? did you cook this? No? Oh I thought I heard someone say you did!". I may make myself (even more) unpopular, though...


* OK slight exaggeration - it's a weekend and we didn't get up until 7:30...

Playgroup

Going to playgroup is becoming a highlight of our day off. I know half the families there from my mother's group, but am getting to know some others too, which is nice. What's probably coolest is that E-chan is allowing other mums to help him if he needs it, and some of the little boys (mostly boys at our playgroup for some reason) ask me to help them get their gumboots back on, or read a book to them while their mum is busy in the kitchen. It's nice to be needed or even recognised by other people's kids. Your own kids need you and love you, and that's just part of the package (but no less lovely), but when another young child singles you out for help or company, or calls you by your name, it's a nice thing! I suppose I am making new friends, just a lot younger than most of the friends I've made up until now.

Our numbers at playgroup were dwindling earlier in the winter, and we had to do some promotion recently - there are 2 other playgroups in the area on the same day, but we want to keep ours going because we like it best. It's volunteer run (ie by parents and carers), with mostly unstructured play with fruit and sandwiches, and the occasional party or event or excursion. One little boy comes dressed in a spiderman suit most weeks! Anyhow, I set up a website linked to a generic email address, and we put ads in the local papers. Now we are getting more new people come by and try it out.

Trying out a playgroup is hard to do - I remember. You are coming to meet people and hopefully become friends, and so that your little one might also learn a thing or two about making friends, co-operating, sharing, taking turns, and imaginative play. It can take 6 or 7 visits until you find you click with other people, given most of the time you are trying to make sure your child isn't pouring sand in someone's hair or falling off their trike. And while we go every week, I'm not entirely sure E-chan always loves it, but he is beginning to learn some social skills and engage in co-operative play that is appropriate for his age. At the moment he doesn't really get the idea of group activities though, and he hangs back and does what he wants to instead. That reminds me of someone else I know...

I like to be all-inclusive most of the time, and get, well... embarrassed I suppose, when people I know have exclusive conversations that no one else can follow, leaving most of the rest of us not knowing whether to try and enter into the conversation, or just go find something else to do. I would hate it if someone came along and never came back because we didn't talk to them enough. There are a few ladies who are like that (they've become really good friends and talk mostly to each other and I don't think they think about how they come across to new people...). I know, we are all guilty of this from time to time, especially around old friends, but a non-private playgroup is not the time or place. I try to compensate by doing some introducing, showing around and asking casual questions when a new family pops by. Today we had 4 new families, including 2 Dads, come along with their kids! Nice to meet men who have just as much trouble finishing their sentences as I do, due to the antics of their little sub-2-year-old in their care!

Ahh that's better

Towards contentedness
The unsettledness I felt a few weeks ago has dissipated somewhat. A few days off, frolicking in the sunshine has been good for me. I suppose going from one job to another without a break caught up with me. And me plus no holidays for over half a year can mean one grumpy chicken. Anyway, working is busy but going well, life is going well, and I'm making more time for some things I like to do when I can.

Babies
I cuddled a newborn on the weekend, who is just beginning to lose that almost generic newborn look, and start to look like his mother, father, and big sister, and of course his own person. It felt like such a privilege, especially as it’s my 3rd cuddle now. “Remember me?”. His 5-weeks-from-the-womb eyes are beginning to fix on things, including my face, when I pull faces, smile and talk to him. What tiny, tiny little feet, with a fragile, delicate little body! My friend (the mother) is gradually working out how to manage both of them, with their different eating, sleeping, playing and toilet habits, but she, the perfectionist, is disheartened at her lack of progress... I've always wanted 2 children, and I think I could still manage that, but I do understand now why some families stop at one.

Singing
Our little boy loves to sing. Sometimes what he sings is recognisable, but much of the time, it’s a bubbly, babbly little voice, that accompanies our pram journeys or his solitary play with toys. I think it’s just lovely! I wish I had a recorder handy to record the sound. I’m aware that parents can be biased about such things… fast forward a few years to the school play or choir, parents beaming with pride in the audience, discussing amongst themselves “ooh! I think he’s talented – more so than the other kids, don’t you reckon?”, and signing him up for music classes or whatever. So I’ll stop short of saying I think he’s talented, but say instead that he seems to love singing, and being sung to, so I’m going to encourage it whenever I can.

duh!

After having a pot plant for over 2 years now in a plastic pot, I just re-potted into a nice ceramic pot. White glaze with nice blue botanic design on the side. And I am wondering "why the hell didn't I do this sooner?". The difference between looking at a plant in a black plastic pot and one in a ceramic pot is like the difference between looking at a milk crate and a nice arm chair!

Anyhow, needless to say, I am pleased with the result!

finding his own style...

Ethan is demanding that he wear t-shirts with planes, trains, cars and things that go. Day, and night. Even if that means putting them under his PJ's. Gets tricky when they're all in the wash. I have been able to convince him to wear his t-shirt with bugs and spiders on it instead, but it's not easy.

I was telling my Dad about this last weekend while he stayed with us, and he told me that my own (older) brother went for a year or so when he wouldn't leave the house without his cowboy gear! Yeee har! didn't know that! A rare tid bit I can store and save for a moment when he deserves to be teased!!

new dwellings

Over a month has gone by in our new house and it feels properly like home now. I’m remembering where I put things, where Ethan is likely to put things, working out what we can live with and what perhaps could be fixed, and learning the lie of the neighbourhood. I’m getting much more exercise by walking to work most days (to the point where I might ditch the gym membership when it expires). But I’m also driving more – this is because there is no bus that will take me within a 15 minute walk to Ethan’s child care centre, which means it doesn’t really help to catch a bus in rainy weather. But again the drive is only a few Km.

The effect on Ethan was quite profound, as forewarned by our mother-of-two friend and veteran of 3 interstate moves. He still wants to go towards our old house sometimes on the way home. It took a few weeks for him to be OK with his new room, and he pulled all our strings to get us to come to him at night time, and even developed a new habit of wanting to come into our bed. We can’t get him to sleep in his bedroom during the day, and have to resort to pushing him to sleep in the pram (which we can’t really do in Summer, so we’ll have to work towards something else…). The whole move was a stressful nightmare. So many decisions to be made in rapid time, all the while life carries on, bills come in, we go to work, we plan and cook dinners, and try to find moments where we can enjoy ourselves. And for a while, everything seemed difficult and there was no relief in sight! AM NOT IN A HURRY TO MOVE AGAIN ANY TIME SOON!

Lately I’ve been, well, on the slightly more depressed end of my normal range (I know – I can feel your eyes wandering off into the distance, or focussing on the more interesting brightly coloured thing to the right of your screen…). To put things in perspective, I’m not often prone to getting very depressed and have never sought medical help for it (perhaps my life has been fortunate enough that nothing has ever sent me that low?). But there are patches – like most of us have, I assume – where there doesn’t seem to be much to look forward to, where certain aspects of your life seems irretrievably stuck and off track (e.g. “career”), where you feel unconnected, where you’re not sure what your strengths are anymore, where you are a stress ball and keep reacting to things you don’t usually react to, and you dwell on things, and assume the worst. And let’s not even cover what an impatient, un-fun mother I’ve been during this time (Ethan still loves me, bless him, but lately I haven’t felt like I’ve deserved it).

And I’ve decided I don’t like myself much when I’m stressed (does anyone actually like themselves when they are stressed?), and I haven’t yet learned how to manage that, or even think about how I might be able to change. I sometimes wonder if it is possible to change certain fundamental parts of your personality - I don’t think it’s easy to when you have little time and energy to devote to it.

So now we’re trying to take a breather – well as much as regular life allows. And life is looking up now - back on the up-cycle again. We even had friends over for dinner on Saturday night! Made ripper chocolate puds and caramelised onion (not eaten together, mind). And Ms J babysat for a few hours last night while I had to go somewhere! And my Dad is visiting this weekend. And another friend came back from overseas. And 2 friends have newborns! And another is recently pregnant!! And another is about to have twins! Ooh! AND I may have another niece or nephew early next year too - babies babies!

Good morning, Grumplestiltskin! And other conversations with our toddler...

Grumpy 2 y.o. was whining when we got him up from his cot this morning...

Daddy: do you want a nappy change?
G2yo: NO! No nappy change!!
Daddy: do you want a hug?
G2yo: NO! NO HUG!
Daddy: do you want to be grumpy then?
G2yo: NO! No be grumpy!! (said most grumpily)
we're around the corner trying not to laugh out loud.

------

We're making dinner last night, and having cheese on crackers to stave off the hunger until the soup is ready. We offer E-chan cheddar on a cracker, but he sees us having camembert...

E-chan: more, more cheese?!
Mummy: oh, you want posh cheese do you?
E-chan: posh cheese! posh cheese!!

(by the way, he can also say "parmesan cheese")

------

The vocab is increasing at an explosive rate now! It's amazing. Almost everything we say gets parroted, as if he's just testing the words out, trying them on for size, finding out how they sound coming from his own lips. Sometimes we are bowled over, sometimes it's hilarious, sometimes, we realise we need to be careful what we say... (e.g. shouldn't say "big stinky poo", "oh crap", or "bugger")

themes...

Isolation... Of not having a working phone or internet for a while (not just us it seems…) and not being able to talk to our dearest and not-so-nearest. Of being too busy doing stuff for our new house and missing some regular activities. Of not knowing if it will be affordable to visit my sibling in Japan in coming years due to rising airfares. Of not knowing who we can ask for help at very short notice when our child is sick, without interrupting people at work, or infecting other kids. Of getting used a new neighbourhood and not knowing where is the closest place to buy milk, when there used to be a shop downstairs from your old place. Of not having the equivalent of the friendly lady from the Lebanese takeaway shop – who is now a 20 minute walk away, during which your felafel would get cold on the way home. Of noticing the neighbours from over the hallway came out to chat to the removal guys the day we moved, but haven’t come over to introduce themselves to us even though we moved in over 3 weeks ago. Of wondering why people seem to fear the simple politeness of introducing themselves to their neighbours, as if it will lead to countless requests to borrow some sugar (as if that would be so terrible).

Worry... that civilisation is downhill from here, that we seem to be grasping for an idea of how life is headed. That parts of our society that have been commonplace for 50 years may be on their way out, and wishing I’d talked to my grandparents more about how life was during the depression, so that I might be better prepared. Worrying that I might not have enough practical skills, that I’m not resourceful enough. Worrying that certain parts of our current life would be irrelevant in a society less affluent than today's. Worrying that my last apostrophe is in the wrong place. Worrying that I don't make enough effort to buy second-hand furniture. Wondering how we can change our stupid halogen downlights in our new place into something more energy efficient. Because we all keep getting sick, and that I am using up all my sick leave too quickly. That I need a holiday but don't know when I can do it.

Hope... because we are showing signs of adapting to our new surroundings, and our son is adapting too, despite having been moved from the only home he’s known. That the (slightly older) kids in our neighbourhood play cricket in the closed off bit of laneway near our house while one of the mums looks on. That friends and family make contact – eventually! That other owner-occupiers in our unit complex do strike up conversations, even tell you their first names and where they live, and are as concerned about the management of the place as you are. Of babies just born and babies just about to be...

economic cycles

http://www.abc.net.au/rn/counterpoint/stories/2008/2296549.htm

I caught the end of this interview on Radio National - recommended listening. No transcript as yet, but you can listen to the recording at the above link.