Eight

I can't help but look on my first born's birthday as the day I became a parent. B's birthday is not only a celebration for him, but a huge milestone in my life too.

I never thought I would have a son who is eight. When I first held my new born son in my arms eight years ago I was so relieved. Relieved that the labour was over, relieved he had all the right bits in the right places and relieved to put all that IVF process behind us. Finally I was a Mum at last with my real live baby in my arms.

Little did I know. That shoulder dropping relief didn't last long at all. Within 2 hours of his birth baby B started to struggle to breathe, instead he made a grunty noise that worried the midwife. So B was taken away from me and examined. Next thing we knew he was in intensive care and a machine was breathing for him.

I was left empty and without my baby B in my arms.

The next 48 hours are a bit of a blur. My pure new baby was now in the hands of strangers. He lay connected to machines that bleeped. Tubes came out of him and wires and tape were stuck all over him. I couldn't see his face properly for the ventilation tube. All the time I was thinking,
"After all that IVF we went through, how can this be happening to us?"
I wondered if I was ever really meant to be a Mum.

Doctors talked about brain scans and infections. Baby B developed a very high temperature. X-rays revealed mucus in his lungs and the brain scan showed swelling. They thought he got distressed during the birth. He was given various types of antibiotics intravenously, plus a paralysing drug to stop him fighting the ventilator. All the time he was inside me I hadn't had one drop of alcohol or even one paracetamol tablet.

Then he improved and breathed for himself. He came away from Intensive care and went into the special care unit. I got to hold him for little bits. I changed his nappy and saw his body for the first time. Thankfully he kept improving. We fed baby B via a tube. I expressed my milk for him then syringed it up his nose via the tube. I never imagined doing that to a baby. He kept improving and I got to attempt breastfeeding with baby B in my arms at last. But he didn't want to suck. With midwives looking on and coaching, B and I slowly learned to breastfeed. Days seemed like weeks, but eventually baby B left the special care unit and roomed in with me. Over the course of seven days we went to hell and back but finally he got the hang of being a baby and I really did get to be his Mum.

That shaky start to parenting has been the worst thing we have ever been through. Thankfully B has been quite drama free since his first week of life. A paediatrician did say to us,
"This is probably the most stress this child will cause you throughout your life."
And he has been right so far. B has been comparatively easy since then.


So happy Birthday my dear B. As we travel our journey together as mother and son I can't help but be so proud of you. Not only have you beaten all the odds of IVF and a dodgy birth, but you have grown up over the last eight years into a spunky kid who knows his own mind. An eight year old mind that is developing fast and shows so much promise. You delight all who meet you. I feel so lucky to be your Mum, eight years ago you gave me the best purpose in the world. I love you so so very much.

Self discipline

Self discipline is controlling yourself.

I use self discipline when I stop at one chocolate biscuit. When two would be much nicer.


I also try to use self discipline when the kids are going crazy. I might feel like screaming or hiding in a cupboard, but instead I try to be a reassuring calm Mum who reminds everyone about the rules.

The rules are not always explicit though, like our dinner time rules. I tend to think of the rules as a general code of behaviour that we learn through experience and consequence. Like if you make a big mess then you have to help clean it up or if you hurt someone you say sorry.

But the kids like things to be black and white, spelt out and written in stone. Perhaps it may have been unfair to have this vague notion of "the rules" and "appropriate behaviour"without really working the rules though with the kids and recording them for future reference.

So the other day when I was trudging up the stairs carrying a fully loaded laundry basket and B and Little Miss bombarded me with missiles over the stair banister I drew on my own self discipline to not go mental at them. Instead I had a talk to B, the instigator of the missile attack. I could see his eyes glaze over as I ranted on about the dangers of throwing things at people on stairs, throwing stuff in the house blah blah blah. There was a cheeky smirk in his face,  every fibre of my being was furious. I was totally livid with him.

So what should I do? I think I even asked him that. I could see that talking wasn't working B was in one of those silly moods, he wasn't listening or following any thoughts through. Out of no where I told him to sit on the naughty stool and write out the rules. Little Miss was set to work cleaning up the missile mess.

After some time B presented these rules to me.

And I was really impressed as not only had he included a rule for not throwing and dropping things, but he had also included a rule for not running inside, not jumping on the furniture and no talk back. Much more than I expected.

After another incident where he gave me a lot of lip, his father sent him to the naughty stool to read his own rules. His dad asked him, "So what rule did you mess up on?"
"No talk back" was his response.

B can't argue with his own rules in his own handwriting. He is actually disciplining himself. I hope this is a breakthrough and a means to help B learn some real self discipline. Something we are all learning to draw on throughout our lives whether it be the temptation of another biscuit or a full blown melt down in a cupboard.

Get out of here

My sister gave me some really valuable advice around the time B was born. She told me that when its getting tough at home, its really good to get out.

I remember with B as a baby taking him for walks in the pram. I would do small bits of grocery shopping everyday. He would often fall asleep with the rhythm of the pavement. People would start to nod in recognition. The pram and I a familiar sight.  I started getting friendly with the supermarket checkout operators. I'd be a regular at cafe, they'd know my coffee preference. It felt good to be part of the community. A known local. But everything changes and nothing stays the same. B grew out of the pram and didn't like talking long walks as a toddler and then we moved house.

But the point is that a change of environment is good for the mood. The fresh air, a different view, newness opens your mind and eyes.

So the other day out we went. I didn't have a plan of where or what we would do, but I needed to get out. We found ourselves in the city's east end with more than a couple of hours to use up.

We walked and discovered some crazy crocheted bicycles. Ready to surprise the Tour Down Under fans.

These bikes are amazing. The time effort and work with detailed crocheting was inspiring for a novice.

B and Little Miss picked at the streets lined with money

Then we found ourselves at the Adelaide botanic gardens. And wondered what and who is a radio?

 We explored

Marvelled at nature's colours,


textures,


and beauty.




Played leaf racing,


and stopped for refreshments.


We learnt about the moon lilly that shyly only flowers at night when the gardens are closed.

So we could only imagine what she looks like open.


Then we visited Daddy's work and played with the office toy box. A very cool play space for both young and old. Plus there seemed to be a never ending supply of biscuits and mints.

It really is good to get out and explore, even in your own backyard.

Space Travel

The last words I heard from B last night were, "I'm hungry."

The first words I was woken with this morning from Little Miss were, "Mum can you make me my raisin toast now?"



With a couple of weeks to go before the new year of school starts I have to say I am really craving some child free space.

I would like to have two hours without being asked to do something, like preparing food or finding some small important piece of something or other.

I would like a couple of hours without hearing the word, Mum.

I would like to have a shower without Little Miss coming in the bathroom with her latest drama.

I would like to sit down and read a magazine from cover to cover.

I would love to drink a cup of tea complete, without it going cold.

Heck I would even settle for some time in the toilet alone.

It was really wonderful to have my husband home with us for two weeks over Christmas. It was lovely to see so much of him, but it was also good for him to see so much of the kids. Thankfully he noticed how full on they are, how its non stop noise, action and peace keeping until they are tucked up in bed.

We reminisced about how simple and easy life was when we were alone, when all we had to worry about were ourselves. But then Little Miss overheard us, and got very upset, she asked, "Were was I?" and we replied that, "You didn't exist then" then quick added, "You existed in our thoughts."

It's hard relentless work being a parent, everyday, every second for the rest of your life. Right now I would love to travel back in time for just an hour or two to live the life I had as a non-parent. Yes I'm having a hard parenting time right now. I confess I have been to Ikea twice in the last 10 days so the kids could have fun in the ball room, and I could have an hour alone.

I know that what I really need is some balance. When I have a bit more time for myself  I am a much better parent. So bring on the new school/kindy year and the lunch box routine. I am ready and waiting.

Life's a beach

when I am here

I let my worries wash away

the never ending pulse of the sea soothes me

breathing in the fresh salted air cleanses me

the thrill of the water, the chill that envelopes me, surrounding and supporting me

I become part of the bigger picture

buoyant, I am adrift from any cares


looking at the horizon I am humbled, I am tiny in the ocean

catching one pulse of the world on a wave into shore

its thrilling to live

I ride the rush of life

turn around and enter again, to wait for another chance

a chance that comes and sometimes is missed

but there will always be another wave

another wave is certain, but when? who knows?

I wait, knowing this is my time

my time to just touch the surface

feel the energy

and live

Happy Christmas

If Christmas is about giving then we did pretty well.
B and Little Miss received way too many presents.
At home...





and at my sister's house.




















If Christmas is about being together as a family we did ok at that too.

Even when some of the family are animals....of the alpaca variety. A baby alpaca was even born while we were there.

And if Christmas is about sharing food then we ticked that box, starting with our mango prawn lime and chilli salad contribution. Yum.

We then ate a huge amount of food, delicious roast turkey, roasted vegetables, cheesy cauliflower bake and greens, with an amazing gravy. Followed by Christmas pudding with hot custard and then a helping of chocolate and peanut butter cheesecake. I was too busy eating to take any photos, sorry.


Despite all the sad memories of Mum that this time of year has brought to the surface for me we all seemed to have a really happy day indeed.


I was very pleased to capture this photo of B, as he is about to break into laughter. Something we all managed to do.

Hope you had a good one too.

Mum

Dear Mum,

It has been a year since you passed away. 365 days without being able to ring you up and find out about how you are feeling. 365 days of not being able to tell you about how B and Little Miss are going. A year without your common sense approach and advice. Your dinner ideas. Sharing in your delight at shopping finds, getting your daylight saving reminder, you noticing changes in the garden, buying you a birthday present, advice on movies to see, TV programs to watch and even the next seasons colours.

I miss you. Dad misses you, the kids miss you, we all miss you. Our family has a big hole in it without you. We miss how you organised us. When we were all together you would be planning the next event for us to come together. I didn't realise you did that till now. Like you were the glue holding and keeping us near. Without you that doesn't happen anymore.

I've wanted to tell you about the new house. Show you the plans for the pool, get your advice on the garden. Share with you my delights and disappointments.

I've needed to talk to you about B and Little Miss so many times. You used to help me put everything in perspective. I miss your advice. I really miss your interest and love for them. Little Miss said to me the other day. "I miss Grandma, she used to always comb my hair." And you did, but now you can't.

I couldn't invite you to Grandparent's day at B's school or buy a ticket for you to see Little Miss's ballet concert. She looked so beautiful Mum. At small or significant events I am reminded of the hole you have left behind. The void that takes the place of you.

But I like to think you are here anyway. Somehow seeing everything. I have to think that. It brings me some comfort to think that we are not just human beings who have spiritual experiences but we are spiritual beings who have a human experience. So I talk to your spirit and think of your spirit. But gee I still miss the human you so much.

It's been a year of trying to get used to you not being here. I haven't got used to it, I don't like it, but I am trying my best. That's what you always told me to do. "Just try your best, no one can ask any more than that." So that's what I am doing.

I love you so much.

Your daughter.
x

While the cat's back is turned....

The mouse will play with the cat's camera.


The cat then gets an insight into the games a certain mouse likes to play...


Constructive games

Shockingly violent lego games

Spying on mother and sister in garden game

















Following sister around game

Tormenting sister game


Locking sister on balcony game

and typing on the computer game.

What the???

Better keep a closer eye on that cheeky mouse!