How to drink a cup of tea
a. get up, caffiene headache already biting at the bit ready to strike at any moment.
b. at first opportunity head to kitchen
c. turn on kettle
d. get distracted
e. 20 minutes later check water temperature. obviously too cold.
f. turn kettle back on
g. get distracted again, then check water temperature. obviously too cold but must have tea!!
h. get one mug, one teabag, add water
i. get distracted
j. remove drowning tea bag from overstewed tea
k. get distracted
l. add milk
m. hmmmm first tea of the day, take one sip
n. get distracted
o. come back to ice cold tea
p. warm in microwave
q. remove disgusting skin off top of tea
r. burn tongue on too hot tea
s. leave to cool
t. of course....get distracted
u. come back to cold tea
v. knock it back
u. vow to do it better next time
w. repeat, ad infinitum
How to get fit:
1. decide to go for a walk in decidedly dodgy weather
2. don walking clothes and 11kg child in backpack
3. walk to beach
4. at furthest point away from house take note of large black cloud looming
5. turn and walk at increased pace toward home
6. for added heart rate increase think about how terrible you are for leaving home without suitable rain coverage for baby
7. continue charging toward home whilst rain starts
8. note people watching you expose your baby to the elements for added heart rate increase.
9. start a light jog (heavy baby still on back) towards average tree coverings
10. Rest- wait 10 minutes for now torrential rain to pass
11. Walk home at a light pace to recover.
Wednesday 6 July 2011
Monday 27 June 2011
yes- I'm still here, hanging by a thread, but here
I know you have all been sitting listlessly by your computers waiting for my next blog to pop up- life's probably just not been the same for you without my wisdom and wit I would imagine. Or.... perhaps not. Anyhoo it certainly has been a while, so long in fact it took my a bit of searching to figure out where the heck I did actually blog and how to log into it. Not exactly a computer whiz I must say.
So it's been a pretty crazy month or so. Actually, my husband would probably correct me and say it has been me who is crazy, not the month. I would probably find it hard to have a decent comeback argument for that one. I have, I'll admit, been feeling slightly out of sorts of late (like a crazy witch is probably a more truthful term). Hormones definately need to take some of the blame,I think they all got a bit pissed off at me for having a baby and are now determined to make my life miserable, they seem to take over my body, brain and emotions for the better part of two weeks a month. I also seem to have entered a pretty whirlwind existance now that I'm working. It strikes me as odd that only 15 hours of work a week seems to have left me feeling so totally exhausted and busy. Especially when other working mum's all seem to be able to manage it with ease. (please tell me I'm not the only one!?)
So some serious self reflection has been needed to help get me back on my feet. OK- I'm not even really back on my knees yet but I'm working on it.
A dear friend gently reminded me yesterday that my standards for myself are way too high and that this is making my life very hard. I know in my head she's right but the thought of easing up on myself is a difficult pill to swallow. While she reminded me that I have done a lot of stressful things in the last year (moved country, said goodbye to good friends, had a baby via emergancy c section, struggled through the first 5 months of being a mum to a baby with severe acid reflux, bought a house, moved 3 times bla bla bla, and become a working mum bla bla) all I can think of is how pathetic I am and that surely I shouldn't be finding it all a bit much some days. Well, ok, most days at the moment.
SO, the question I ask is, how do I lower my standards? How do I give myself a break and stop trying so hard. How do I rid myself of that constant feeling that I'm not doing well enough. And I think it's something that has to come from within I think, as influences around you will either support or dis what it is your trying to achieve. (Dis is a dumb word I know but I can't think of a decent one). I know dissapointment is the constant companion of the perfectionist, so how do I stop trying (and failing) to be perfect? Even as I write this my ridiculously erroneous thinking is making me feel guilty for even considering dropping my standards.
I think perhaps I'll have to keep you posted on what I come up with. I have made a small amount of progress in the last week- I discovered a few things, I'll share them if you like
1. my child will not drop dead if I feed him a few meals out of jars
2. the world will not stop spinning if I use disposable nappies for a while
3. even when clothes are dirty, you can still wear them
4. yup- my hair looks really gross if i go 3 days without washing it but noone points and laughs at you for it.
But I know it goes deeper than these superficial things, more thought it needed on the topic I think so watch this space.
I so don't want to be the kind of person that appears like they have it all together because they manage to acheive so much- I'd much rather have you over for coffee and have the house a bit of a mess, yesterdays food on my jeans and be able to laugh at myself. I think what stops me from being totally upfront with how I'm doing though, and I wonder if I'm not alone in this (please God let me not be alone), is that I feel like I'll be the only one who isn't completely holding it together. Which makes me realise as I write it...what's so bad about that? Better to be the only one not coping but with support around you than doing it alone eh!?
Oh crap- that was all quite honest, next time you see me just give me a hug and tell me I'll get there ok!?
So it's been a pretty crazy month or so. Actually, my husband would probably correct me and say it has been me who is crazy, not the month. I would probably find it hard to have a decent comeback argument for that one. I have, I'll admit, been feeling slightly out of sorts of late (like a crazy witch is probably a more truthful term). Hormones definately need to take some of the blame,I think they all got a bit pissed off at me for having a baby and are now determined to make my life miserable, they seem to take over my body, brain and emotions for the better part of two weeks a month. I also seem to have entered a pretty whirlwind existance now that I'm working. It strikes me as odd that only 15 hours of work a week seems to have left me feeling so totally exhausted and busy. Especially when other working mum's all seem to be able to manage it with ease. (please tell me I'm not the only one!?)
So some serious self reflection has been needed to help get me back on my feet. OK- I'm not even really back on my knees yet but I'm working on it.
A dear friend gently reminded me yesterday that my standards for myself are way too high and that this is making my life very hard. I know in my head she's right but the thought of easing up on myself is a difficult pill to swallow. While she reminded me that I have done a lot of stressful things in the last year (moved country, said goodbye to good friends, had a baby via emergancy c section, struggled through the first 5 months of being a mum to a baby with severe acid reflux, bought a house, moved 3 times bla bla bla, and become a working mum bla bla) all I can think of is how pathetic I am and that surely I shouldn't be finding it all a bit much some days. Well, ok, most days at the moment.
SO, the question I ask is, how do I lower my standards? How do I give myself a break and stop trying so hard. How do I rid myself of that constant feeling that I'm not doing well enough. And I think it's something that has to come from within I think, as influences around you will either support or dis what it is your trying to achieve. (Dis is a dumb word I know but I can't think of a decent one). I know dissapointment is the constant companion of the perfectionist, so how do I stop trying (and failing) to be perfect? Even as I write this my ridiculously erroneous thinking is making me feel guilty for even considering dropping my standards.
I think perhaps I'll have to keep you posted on what I come up with. I have made a small amount of progress in the last week- I discovered a few things, I'll share them if you like
1. my child will not drop dead if I feed him a few meals out of jars
2. the world will not stop spinning if I use disposable nappies for a while
3. even when clothes are dirty, you can still wear them
4. yup- my hair looks really gross if i go 3 days without washing it but noone points and laughs at you for it.
But I know it goes deeper than these superficial things, more thought it needed on the topic I think so watch this space.
I so don't want to be the kind of person that appears like they have it all together because they manage to acheive so much- I'd much rather have you over for coffee and have the house a bit of a mess, yesterdays food on my jeans and be able to laugh at myself. I think what stops me from being totally upfront with how I'm doing though, and I wonder if I'm not alone in this (please God let me not be alone), is that I feel like I'll be the only one who isn't completely holding it together. Which makes me realise as I write it...what's so bad about that? Better to be the only one not coping but with support around you than doing it alone eh!?
Oh crap- that was all quite honest, next time you see me just give me a hug and tell me I'll get there ok!?
Sunday 8 May 2011
Things I now know
A lot has changed for me in the last 9 months and my first mothers day has found me reflective and content. Becoming a mum is about the steepest learning curve I can imagine so I thought I would share with you a few things I've learnt since August the 14th 2010...
1. Epidurals are a gift straight from heaven that can be welcomed with open arms. I think I may have proposed to my anaethetist had she not been a woman after receiving one.
2. The first few days of having a newborn is the most ridiculously amazing rollercoaster of emotions from total elation to the very depths of despair, the heights of stress to the deepest feelings of love- there can be nothing else in the human experience quite like it.
3. You can get so tired that your brain can't figure out what goes in a ham and cheese sandwich.
4. Dressing and changing a baby is indeed, as the funny email that circulated pointed out, like trying to tie an octupus up in a string bag. They forgot to mention the octupus is somehow turbo charged and shouts a lot whilst being 'stuffed' into aforementioned string bag.
5. You can grow to love a caesarian scar. The more I love my little boy, the more I love my scar. Without it I never may have had the joy of getting to know him and I am so greatful to live in a place where modern medicine is so easily accessed.
6. Having a baby does not completely ruin your life. I vividly remember sobbing into the kitchen counter thinking that I had totally and utterly ruined my life several weeks in to my mothering experience. Everyone told me it would get better but I was convinced my baby was the only one that would stay this difficult forever. I was wrong, it does get better, waaaaay better. Thank goodness!
7. It's hard giving up some of the things you love. Especially when, in return, you get to pack and unpack the dishwasher about 300 times a week, do 20 loads of washing and constantly be cleaning only to be still surrounded in mess.
8. I've also learnt, thanks to a great article I read, not to focus on the menial tasks that you repeat ad infinitum as a mum, like dealing with the dishes and the laundry, but to keep your eyes on the big picture. We are building cathedrals, not just chipping away making a block of stone.
9. Even when you think nice thoughts about building cathedrals you can still feel like throwing the dishes in the bin and screaming at the thought of packing and unpacking the dishwasher one more time.
10. I could not be the mum I am if it weren't for an amazing husband, incredibly supportive family and a fantastic circle of mummies around me. They have cheered me on, cooked me meals, given me advice when I've needed it and made me laugh when I've been down. I don't take them for granted for a second and I owe them a huge amount of thanks.
11. Trust your instincts. Even if people around you tell you otherwise, you know best! (despite feeling like you don't have a flippin clue half the time)
12. You can love someone an embarressingly enourmous amount. If I had to throw myself in front of a bus to save my son I would do it in a heartbeat, no hesitation. If I had to unpack a dishwasher 500 times...well that might be a different story ;)
Happy mother's day all you other mummies out there x
1. Epidurals are a gift straight from heaven that can be welcomed with open arms. I think I may have proposed to my anaethetist had she not been a woman after receiving one.
2. The first few days of having a newborn is the most ridiculously amazing rollercoaster of emotions from total elation to the very depths of despair, the heights of stress to the deepest feelings of love- there can be nothing else in the human experience quite like it.
3. You can get so tired that your brain can't figure out what goes in a ham and cheese sandwich.
4. Dressing and changing a baby is indeed, as the funny email that circulated pointed out, like trying to tie an octupus up in a string bag. They forgot to mention the octupus is somehow turbo charged and shouts a lot whilst being 'stuffed' into aforementioned string bag.
5. You can grow to love a caesarian scar. The more I love my little boy, the more I love my scar. Without it I never may have had the joy of getting to know him and I am so greatful to live in a place where modern medicine is so easily accessed.
6. Having a baby does not completely ruin your life. I vividly remember sobbing into the kitchen counter thinking that I had totally and utterly ruined my life several weeks in to my mothering experience. Everyone told me it would get better but I was convinced my baby was the only one that would stay this difficult forever. I was wrong, it does get better, waaaaay better. Thank goodness!
7. It's hard giving up some of the things you love. Especially when, in return, you get to pack and unpack the dishwasher about 300 times a week, do 20 loads of washing and constantly be cleaning only to be still surrounded in mess.
8. I've also learnt, thanks to a great article I read, not to focus on the menial tasks that you repeat ad infinitum as a mum, like dealing with the dishes and the laundry, but to keep your eyes on the big picture. We are building cathedrals, not just chipping away making a block of stone.
9. Even when you think nice thoughts about building cathedrals you can still feel like throwing the dishes in the bin and screaming at the thought of packing and unpacking the dishwasher one more time.
10. I could not be the mum I am if it weren't for an amazing husband, incredibly supportive family and a fantastic circle of mummies around me. They have cheered me on, cooked me meals, given me advice when I've needed it and made me laugh when I've been down. I don't take them for granted for a second and I owe them a huge amount of thanks.
11. Trust your instincts. Even if people around you tell you otherwise, you know best! (despite feeling like you don't have a flippin clue half the time)
12. You can love someone an embarressingly enourmous amount. If I had to throw myself in front of a bus to save my son I would do it in a heartbeat, no hesitation. If I had to unpack a dishwasher 500 times...well that might be a different story ;)
Happy mother's day all you other mummies out there x
Thursday 5 May 2011
I'm sorry what did you say?
I have sometimes wondered if there is some sort of academy certain people go to where they learn how to say exactly the wrong thing at the wrong time. Initially it seemed to me that husbands attend this as some sort of pre-marriage training. I can now only assume that some mothers also graduate before bringing new life into the world.
I do love taking my little one to various gatherings with his peers but the interactions I have with the other mum's sometimes makes me wonder if it's all worth it. I have often left feeling like perhaps I am the only one with problems, or when I've really been struggling the only who feels that way. I blame the mum's who seem to have a gift for saying exactly the wrong thing. A shining example was one such conversation at playgroup on Monday. It went something like this..
Annoying mother: sounding astounded 'My baby (let's call it Fred, I'd like to give it quite an ugly name for the purposes of this as I'm not to fond of said mum), woke up last night'
Me: 'Oh, does he sleep through the night?' (stupid question, should know never to ask this by now but I'm a sucker for punishment.
Annoying mother: now looking and sounding astounded 'Uh yeah, does your's not??'
Me: 'Uh no'(already feeling crap about the fact I have had broken sleep ever since my morning sickness started, pretty much 15 months and counting now)
Now this is where perhaps some sympathy or thoughfullness should come into play. But noooo...here is her response 'Oh! Fred's been sleeping through the night since he was 8 weeks old!'
Bloody hell woman, could you not keep that information to yourself?? What makes you think I want to know that!!!???? But wait...she goes on...
'Oh! I thought all babies slept through the night by now'.
'NO!' I wanted to scream at her as I looked at her calm and happy face, not a hint of dark circles under her eyes 'YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A PARENT YOU STUPID COW!'. . All I managed to squeak out was some weak indication that she should be greatful.
And she didn't stop there....
'Oh yes, well you know (sounding a wee bit know-it-all) we always kept the lights down and didn't talk to him during the night.' .......Thank You Captain Obvious!! I reeeeeaaaaaalise that's what your meant to do, do you somehow think that I have not scoured every book and internet page that tells you how to get your baby to sleep through the night??? At what point did you think that I might turn ON the lights and CHAT with my baby to get it to keep sleeping, are you insane!!!??? Of course I didn't say this, I am far to polite (AKA chicken) this was just the 'rude' me that sits in my head and is too scared to pipe up until later when I am regaling someone else with the story.
By this time I was almost considering if anyone would notice if I strangled her half way through the singing part of the session. And seriously, wouldn't it be nice sometimes if the intensely rude part of us just said what we thought? I could have been all cool calm and collected and said something like 'Oh well, no wonder your baby has such a flat head, it's from all that sleeping'. Oh my goodness, I could never say such a thing but surely it would be just a teeny bit satisfying?
So there I was feeling miserable..again...following a conversation with another mum. And, yes, believe it or not it got worse. Knowing I had recently moved another mum asked me how it went. She too moved house on the same weekend so I was half hoping this may be the start of some sort of bonding conversation that would make me feel better. I told her the move was OK but we had ended up spending most of the day at the hospital as my son had a raging fever and was completely miserable, that we had lost countless hours of sleep and hadn't manage to unpack hardly anything.
'Oh' she replied, 'We had loads of help, got it all done in a day..pictures are even hung on the walls'.
I'm sorry what!? Why do you think I want to know this? I mean honestly where do these people come from? I much prefer friends who are having a way worse time than me as you know you're always going to feel better when you talk to them. I have a couple of them on speed dial, it's good for the soul and I highly recommend it. Much better than talking to those other silly cows. At least I've realised now that I have, by far, the cutest and most wonderful baby on the planet so all those well rested and organised mum's can just jog on. And even better, I've just found out my little one may be incubating chicken pox so perhaps I can place him strategically in my regular groups to pass the suffering on. Mwaaahhaaaahaaa
I do love taking my little one to various gatherings with his peers but the interactions I have with the other mum's sometimes makes me wonder if it's all worth it. I have often left feeling like perhaps I am the only one with problems, or when I've really been struggling the only who feels that way. I blame the mum's who seem to have a gift for saying exactly the wrong thing. A shining example was one such conversation at playgroup on Monday. It went something like this..
Annoying mother: sounding astounded 'My baby (let's call it Fred, I'd like to give it quite an ugly name for the purposes of this as I'm not to fond of said mum), woke up last night'
Me: 'Oh, does he sleep through the night?' (stupid question, should know never to ask this by now but I'm a sucker for punishment.
Annoying mother: now looking and sounding astounded 'Uh yeah, does your's not??'
Me: 'Uh no'(already feeling crap about the fact I have had broken sleep ever since my morning sickness started, pretty much 15 months and counting now)
Now this is where perhaps some sympathy or thoughfullness should come into play. But noooo...here is her response 'Oh! Fred's been sleeping through the night since he was 8 weeks old!'
Bloody hell woman, could you not keep that information to yourself?? What makes you think I want to know that!!!???? But wait...she goes on...
'Oh! I thought all babies slept through the night by now'.
'NO!' I wanted to scream at her as I looked at her calm and happy face, not a hint of dark circles under her eyes 'YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A PARENT YOU STUPID COW!'. . All I managed to squeak out was some weak indication that she should be greatful.
And she didn't stop there....
'Oh yes, well you know (sounding a wee bit know-it-all) we always kept the lights down and didn't talk to him during the night.' .......Thank You Captain Obvious!! I reeeeeaaaaaalise that's what your meant to do, do you somehow think that I have not scoured every book and internet page that tells you how to get your baby to sleep through the night??? At what point did you think that I might turn ON the lights and CHAT with my baby to get it to keep sleeping, are you insane!!!??? Of course I didn't say this, I am far to polite (AKA chicken) this was just the 'rude' me that sits in my head and is too scared to pipe up until later when I am regaling someone else with the story.
By this time I was almost considering if anyone would notice if I strangled her half way through the singing part of the session. And seriously, wouldn't it be nice sometimes if the intensely rude part of us just said what we thought? I could have been all cool calm and collected and said something like 'Oh well, no wonder your baby has such a flat head, it's from all that sleeping'. Oh my goodness, I could never say such a thing but surely it would be just a teeny bit satisfying?
So there I was feeling miserable..again...following a conversation with another mum. And, yes, believe it or not it got worse. Knowing I had recently moved another mum asked me how it went. She too moved house on the same weekend so I was half hoping this may be the start of some sort of bonding conversation that would make me feel better. I told her the move was OK but we had ended up spending most of the day at the hospital as my son had a raging fever and was completely miserable, that we had lost countless hours of sleep and hadn't manage to unpack hardly anything.
'Oh' she replied, 'We had loads of help, got it all done in a day..pictures are even hung on the walls'.
I'm sorry what!? Why do you think I want to know this? I mean honestly where do these people come from? I much prefer friends who are having a way worse time than me as you know you're always going to feel better when you talk to them. I have a couple of them on speed dial, it's good for the soul and I highly recommend it. Much better than talking to those other silly cows. At least I've realised now that I have, by far, the cutest and most wonderful baby on the planet so all those well rested and organised mum's can just jog on. And even better, I've just found out my little one may be incubating chicken pox so perhaps I can place him strategically in my regular groups to pass the suffering on. Mwaaahhaaaahaaa
Thursday 28 April 2011
hi ho hi ho
I never imagined myself to be a working mum and yet here I sit, counting down to my new job starting in just 3 short weeks. My goodness, it's all a bit scary. As soon as I said yes reality starting crashing in on me, how the heck am I going to manage this!?
For starters I need to somehow find clothes that don't have baby food smashed into them not just once but twice a week( I mean finding the clothes, not the frequency of the smashing). This poses a problem, I'm not sure if I have just completely lost the ability to realise when my clothes really need a wash or if the food has literally become one with the fabric. I just can't ever seem to locate a pair of trousers that don't look like they have been attacked by marmite toast and pureed spinach.
Secondly there is the issue of my greatly reduced brain capacity. I think my gray matter basically decided to skip town the moment I conceived and it hasn't had the decency to return. 'I'm really not needed' it must say to itself, 'I'll just stay on vacation, how hard can it be to feed and change a baby and do housework ad infinitum'. As if to prove the point of how stupid I really am at the moment, whilst speaking to my future boss, instead of joking and saying 'I'll have to dust off my brain' which would have made perfect sense, I decided to come up with my own ridiculous version of the saying. I'm still laughing at myself for announcing to her 'I'll have to get my brain out of the dusty cupboard'. I mean what the!?
Thirdly of course, is the tiredness. Not only do I have only a remnant of a brain left, it operates only when regularly injected with caffiene and is still then prone to massive errors of judgement. I wonder if make up will ever manage to cover the dark shadows under my eyes so I don't scare my new workmates?
Oh dear, the list goes on..I better put a stop to this. The last one, is that I have somehow decided that I have time to fit in 15 hours of work a week. Now, now, I know you are all gasping at the mention of a measly 15 hours a week. At this juncture however I must point out to you that I am no super woman. I have several friends who are- one even who manages to work 4 days a week, run a charity in a 5th (which included a recent trip to Uganda), care for her 9 month old baby...all while being pregnant. Another old friend from school (who I just occasionally facebook stalk to see what she's up to) has 4 children, which in my opinion is enough said, but is also a lawyer who has recently published a book that went straight to the top of bestseller list. I am not this sort of woman. If I manage to wash my hair twice a week and shave my legs every 3 weeks I am doing AN AMAZING JOB of being me. So fitting in 15 hours a week is going to be interesting. Perhaps I'll have to cut back on the leg shaving. Ha ha.
I know I said I would stop but I do also just have to mention quickly about the whole house that needs not only unpacking but renovating from top to bottom inside and out. Since moving in I have managed to unpack exactly zero articles that belong to me. Thank goodness I found time to clean the bath yesterday, I think I got athletes foot just from looking at it.
All that said I am feeling incredibly blessed to have been offered a job that I didn't even have to look for, doing something I'm passionate about, that is totally flexible and has a boss who is as bleary eyed as me as she too knows what it's like to be up night after night tending to a sick baby. Don't think that all made sense but hey, like I said my brain is elsewhere. If you see it please send it back to me, I start on the 23rd of May!
For starters I need to somehow find clothes that don't have baby food smashed into them not just once but twice a week( I mean finding the clothes, not the frequency of the smashing). This poses a problem, I'm not sure if I have just completely lost the ability to realise when my clothes really need a wash or if the food has literally become one with the fabric. I just can't ever seem to locate a pair of trousers that don't look like they have been attacked by marmite toast and pureed spinach.
Secondly there is the issue of my greatly reduced brain capacity. I think my gray matter basically decided to skip town the moment I conceived and it hasn't had the decency to return. 'I'm really not needed' it must say to itself, 'I'll just stay on vacation, how hard can it be to feed and change a baby and do housework ad infinitum'. As if to prove the point of how stupid I really am at the moment, whilst speaking to my future boss, instead of joking and saying 'I'll have to dust off my brain' which would have made perfect sense, I decided to come up with my own ridiculous version of the saying. I'm still laughing at myself for announcing to her 'I'll have to get my brain out of the dusty cupboard'. I mean what the!?
Thirdly of course, is the tiredness. Not only do I have only a remnant of a brain left, it operates only when regularly injected with caffiene and is still then prone to massive errors of judgement. I wonder if make up will ever manage to cover the dark shadows under my eyes so I don't scare my new workmates?
Oh dear, the list goes on..I better put a stop to this. The last one, is that I have somehow decided that I have time to fit in 15 hours of work a week. Now, now, I know you are all gasping at the mention of a measly 15 hours a week. At this juncture however I must point out to you that I am no super woman. I have several friends who are- one even who manages to work 4 days a week, run a charity in a 5th (which included a recent trip to Uganda), care for her 9 month old baby...all while being pregnant. Another old friend from school (who I just occasionally facebook stalk to see what she's up to) has 4 children, which in my opinion is enough said, but is also a lawyer who has recently published a book that went straight to the top of bestseller list. I am not this sort of woman. If I manage to wash my hair twice a week and shave my legs every 3 weeks I am doing AN AMAZING JOB of being me. So fitting in 15 hours a week is going to be interesting. Perhaps I'll have to cut back on the leg shaving. Ha ha.
I know I said I would stop but I do also just have to mention quickly about the whole house that needs not only unpacking but renovating from top to bottom inside and out. Since moving in I have managed to unpack exactly zero articles that belong to me. Thank goodness I found time to clean the bath yesterday, I think I got athletes foot just from looking at it.
All that said I am feeling incredibly blessed to have been offered a job that I didn't even have to look for, doing something I'm passionate about, that is totally flexible and has a boss who is as bleary eyed as me as she too knows what it's like to be up night after night tending to a sick baby. Don't think that all made sense but hey, like I said my brain is elsewhere. If you see it please send it back to me, I start on the 23rd of May!
Wednesday 20 April 2011
Snakes and ladders
I have been cut off from civilization for the last few days with my internet and phone going off line while being tranferred to the new house. Makes you realise how isolated you feel without either portal to the outside world working!
All is going well at the 'new' house and hopefully by the end of Easter weekend the 'old' house will be spik and span ready for the dragon rental lady to sign us out. It's interesting how when real estate agents see you as potential 'buyers' they treat you so well and when they see you as 'tenants' they treat you like something they need to scrape off thier shoe.
Anyway enough about that, I've been thinking quite a bit about how parenting can feel a bit like being in a self scoring game of snakes and ladders, do something good and you feel great- as if you've just been sent up sort of happy ladder. Do something bad on the other hand and you instantly feel as if you are sliding down a snake into the useless parent category. On a daily basis I seem to swing between thinking I'm doing a pretty good job to feeling like I should be nominated for the Bad Mommy awards.
By way of example let me talk you through a typical day (this will give you a chance to judge me and feel smug about the way you do things so much better than me, ha ha!) Let me sort of put it in table format so it's easier to follow:
ACTIVITY INTERNAL SCORE AWARDED
-Crawl out of bed when baby wakes up 0 points - it just has to be done
-Get annoyed as baby incapable of staying on his back - 10 points - I should be more patient
while nappy changed
-Cook baby omega rich egg yolk for breakfast + 150 points
- Remain calm when baby refuses to eat healthy omega + 100 points
rich breakfast
- Take time to read baby stories before nap time +50 points
- Forget to go to library so have to read books baby is -50 points
bored of
- While baby is napping try and get packing done to move
house, drop dish on floor, wake baby and make him cry -200 points
- Feed baby homemade organic vegetables and iron rich
meat for lunch +500 points
(if they were homeGROWN as well this would be more like 5 million points)
- Feel smug and self righteous about making own organic -200 points
baby food
(what kind of horrible judgemental cow am I!?)
- Put baby in cot for second nap. Leave bonjela in reach - 2000 points
so father goes in one minute later to find baby chewing
bonjela tube
- Feed baby formula out of BPA lined formula tin 0 points (can't do anything about this one, his other option was to starve as my boobs didnt seem interested in feeding a baby after the first 3 months and went on strike)
- Put baby to bed for the night reciting his favorite story for +300 points
millionth time as it makes him laugh every time
(this will go up exponentially the longer I have to read the same flippin story!)
So anyway you get the idea- if the format didnt drive you insane after the first one. Really I know in my heart it's all a bunch of rubbish and that overall I'm doing a great job but there is always that small part of you that is keen to pipe up and tell you how crap you are. I'm learning not to listen to it! All I need to do is look at how happy and loved my little guy is and I know that all my scoring system is redundant. One smile from him and I feel like I have earnt a million points, just for being his mum.
On a side note to intensify this whole process I was randomly offered a job yesterday so am now going through the rather worrying process of deciding if I want to work part time or not. This is a much harder decision to make than I ever thought possible and it's all a bit of brain bender. I'll keep you posted on that front, in the mean time I would love anyone's comments or advice on it.
Well I better sign off, any moment now I am going to hear a whimper from the next room as nap time finishes and if I don't go in straight away I'll have to deduct 50 points from today's total :)
All is going well at the 'new' house and hopefully by the end of Easter weekend the 'old' house will be spik and span ready for the dragon rental lady to sign us out. It's interesting how when real estate agents see you as potential 'buyers' they treat you so well and when they see you as 'tenants' they treat you like something they need to scrape off thier shoe.
Anyway enough about that, I've been thinking quite a bit about how parenting can feel a bit like being in a self scoring game of snakes and ladders, do something good and you feel great- as if you've just been sent up sort of happy ladder. Do something bad on the other hand and you instantly feel as if you are sliding down a snake into the useless parent category. On a daily basis I seem to swing between thinking I'm doing a pretty good job to feeling like I should be nominated for the Bad Mommy awards.
By way of example let me talk you through a typical day (this will give you a chance to judge me and feel smug about the way you do things so much better than me, ha ha!) Let me sort of put it in table format so it's easier to follow:
ACTIVITY INTERNAL SCORE AWARDED
-Crawl out of bed when baby wakes up 0 points - it just has to be done
-Get annoyed as baby incapable of staying on his back - 10 points - I should be more patient
while nappy changed
-Cook baby omega rich egg yolk for breakfast + 150 points
- Remain calm when baby refuses to eat healthy omega + 100 points
rich breakfast
- Take time to read baby stories before nap time +50 points
- Forget to go to library so have to read books baby is -50 points
bored of
- While baby is napping try and get packing done to move
house, drop dish on floor, wake baby and make him cry -200 points
- Feed baby homemade organic vegetables and iron rich
meat for lunch +500 points
(if they were homeGROWN as well this would be more like 5 million points)
- Feel smug and self righteous about making own organic -200 points
baby food
(what kind of horrible judgemental cow am I!?)
- Put baby in cot for second nap. Leave bonjela in reach - 2000 points
so father goes in one minute later to find baby chewing
bonjela tube
- Feed baby formula out of BPA lined formula tin 0 points (can't do anything about this one, his other option was to starve as my boobs didnt seem interested in feeding a baby after the first 3 months and went on strike)
- Put baby to bed for the night reciting his favorite story for +300 points
millionth time as it makes him laugh every time
(this will go up exponentially the longer I have to read the same flippin story!)
So anyway you get the idea- if the format didnt drive you insane after the first one. Really I know in my heart it's all a bunch of rubbish and that overall I'm doing a great job but there is always that small part of you that is keen to pipe up and tell you how crap you are. I'm learning not to listen to it! All I need to do is look at how happy and loved my little guy is and I know that all my scoring system is redundant. One smile from him and I feel like I have earnt a million points, just for being his mum.
On a side note to intensify this whole process I was randomly offered a job yesterday so am now going through the rather worrying process of deciding if I want to work part time or not. This is a much harder decision to make than I ever thought possible and it's all a bit of brain bender. I'll keep you posted on that front, in the mean time I would love anyone's comments or advice on it.
Well I better sign off, any moment now I am going to hear a whimper from the next room as nap time finishes and if I don't go in straight away I'll have to deduct 50 points from today's total :)
Thursday 14 April 2011
Renovations have begun!!!
Well it is with great excitement that I can report we are proud owners of our new house and we have survived our first day of renovations. (I am so tired it just took me 4 attempts to figure out how to spell excitement :) ).
We made pretty good progress thanks to hours of hard labour completed by the in laws and my dad. Walls have been sanded, cleaned and holes filled. Ceilings have been scrubbed and as I write my other half is working away on his own sanding the floors late into the night.
On arrival at the house it was clear what my first mission should be, I started to feel like I might need to go to the loo but one look at the throne in our new house convinced me that some serious work needed to be done before using it could be even remotely considered. The previous occupants were not what we would call aware of the words 'clean' or 'cleaning' and how one might either want or obtain a 'clean house'. They had been there 7 years and had certainly not laid a finger on a bottle of spray and wipe in that time.
So, wishing I had a hazmat suit in my cleaning arsenal I entered the dreaded throne room. And I kid you not- I cleaned that bloody toilet for 3 hours. The toilet and I are now old friends, I was practically hugging it for half an hour for goodness sake. I feel as if I should be awarded some sort of bravery award for my efforts, perhaps there is a Purple Duck I should receive, or Martyr of the Year ceremony I should be attending.
Ironically, I found peas behind the toilet, not pee (although there was plenty of that in all sorts of places you wouldn't believe) but round green ones. Very odd. I won't let on any more details of my heroic efforts as I feel that you may not be able to cope with the gory details of my war tale. What I will tell you is that the saddest part was that at the end of my 3 hours (again I really am not kidding about this I started at 10.30 and finished just before 1.30) the stupid place still smelt like old man wee. YUK!
So who wants to come and visit!? Ha ha! No doubt if you do you will pee just before leaving your house and politely decline any beverages whilst at my lovely new home, but I'll know why! I can assure you though it's very usable now, maybe just hold your nose a bit.
That's all I've got on the renovations front for now- I will happily keep you posted on how it's all going.
By the way, is anyone else as impressed as I am that I have managed to write 3 blogs that don't focus entirely on the fact that I have a baby?? kudos to me I say! I'm brewing another one though so I'll be back here soon if I get a break from cleaning fly poop of walls and ceilings in the next few days. See you soon..
We made pretty good progress thanks to hours of hard labour completed by the in laws and my dad. Walls have been sanded, cleaned and holes filled. Ceilings have been scrubbed and as I write my other half is working away on his own sanding the floors late into the night.
On arrival at the house it was clear what my first mission should be, I started to feel like I might need to go to the loo but one look at the throne in our new house convinced me that some serious work needed to be done before using it could be even remotely considered. The previous occupants were not what we would call aware of the words 'clean' or 'cleaning' and how one might either want or obtain a 'clean house'. They had been there 7 years and had certainly not laid a finger on a bottle of spray and wipe in that time.
So, wishing I had a hazmat suit in my cleaning arsenal I entered the dreaded throne room. And I kid you not- I cleaned that bloody toilet for 3 hours. The toilet and I are now old friends, I was practically hugging it for half an hour for goodness sake. I feel as if I should be awarded some sort of bravery award for my efforts, perhaps there is a Purple Duck I should receive, or Martyr of the Year ceremony I should be attending.
Ironically, I found peas behind the toilet, not pee (although there was plenty of that in all sorts of places you wouldn't believe) but round green ones. Very odd. I won't let on any more details of my heroic efforts as I feel that you may not be able to cope with the gory details of my war tale. What I will tell you is that the saddest part was that at the end of my 3 hours (again I really am not kidding about this I started at 10.30 and finished just before 1.30) the stupid place still smelt like old man wee. YUK!
So who wants to come and visit!? Ha ha! No doubt if you do you will pee just before leaving your house and politely decline any beverages whilst at my lovely new home, but I'll know why! I can assure you though it's very usable now, maybe just hold your nose a bit.
That's all I've got on the renovations front for now- I will happily keep you posted on how it's all going.
By the way, is anyone else as impressed as I am that I have managed to write 3 blogs that don't focus entirely on the fact that I have a baby?? kudos to me I say! I'm brewing another one though so I'll be back here soon if I get a break from cleaning fly poop of walls and ceilings in the next few days. See you soon..
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