So Close

Are you are newborn person?

I have a BFF, her name is Louise. I have never met her in person, and probably never will, but I really, really like her, a lot.  I've read her book, which is fantastic and part of the reason why I like her so much (she sounds like me. Not sure if that is a compliment or an insult). If you are single and negotiating the world of making a baby, "Knock yourself up" is a must read.

But I am afraid if I had read her latest article "True Confession: I Loved Having a Newborn" before I had Max, I might have had to break up with Louise.  Louise just admitted out loud and in public that she loved having a newborn.  Shock horror! 

To say that I didn't enjoy the newborn stage with Adam and Kate would be like saying I don't enjoy being stabbed several times in the eye with a pointy stick.  I was hopelessly overwhelmed and under resourced in terms of sleep, energy, mental health and happy pills - it was bloody awful.  And until I read another wonderful book by another BFF in the computer Andi Buchanan "Mother Shock: Loving every (other) minute of it".  I then realized that it wasn't just me who felt this way.  Oh my word, how I appreciated reading what Andi wrote in that book, I wish I had read it before the babies arrived. I thought you were supposed to love every minute of it (long awaited and hard fought for new babies), and I didn't. 

I remember writing a post on my blog a few weeks after they were born, talking about how tough I found it, how much of a shock it was.  There were about a hundred comments on that blog post, 99 of which said they understood what I was saying and had lots of empathy for how I was feeling. Except for one person who said they couldn't relate to what I was saying, they loved having newborns.

Being the sensible person I am, I ignored those 99 supportive comments and instead obsessed about the one commenter who felt differently. It drove me insane.  I was clearly a bad mother, an unworthy mother.  Why did I not LOVE the newborn stage when there were many people (1%) who did?  It was obviously because I was inadequate.  After all, I had fought so long and hard to have these children, I should be loving it, not walking around in a shocked haze.  And it was not just the twin thing - yes, it is harder to have twins (as in MUCH harder), but it was more than that - everything about the newborn stage terrified me.

But as time as gone by and I have upped my anti-depressants and increased my therapy, I've come to terms with the fact that it was ok that I found it so tough.  I coped, and I managed to get through it without damaging myself or my children too badly, hopefully.  Thank goodness it was all behind me.

And then I fell pregnant with Max, and it all came flooding back.  The night terrors (mine), the crying (mine), the abject fear.  THE FEAR!  But this time I was prepared. This time I made sure I was mentally, psychologically, logistically and emotionally prepared.  I hunkered down and got ready for the onslaught.  And guess what - there was none!  OMG!  It wasn't that bad! In fact, dare I even admit this out loud, it was actually OK! 

Look, this time around things were very different - I had lots counting in my favour.  The biggest plus was that I was an experienced mother.  This time I knew that it was ok if the baby cried, he wouldn't die from crying. It was ok if he didn't finish his bottle, he wouldn't starve by missing one feed. And I knew that no matter how tough any stage was, it was exactly that - just a stage. It is so much better / easier / less terrifying the second time around.

Of course it helped that (a) there was only one of him and (b) he is a happy baby (praisethelord).  New mother + two babies + one of which is a Adam = Not Such A Fun Time.  One baby + experienced mother + happy baby = A breeze.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I am reformed - I still don't LOVE the newborn stage, but it is not anywhere nearly as scary as it was the first time around. (I personally believe all babies should be born at 3 months.  3 months plus is so fun.

I am interested in hearing your opinions and experiences (you are welcome to take the conversation over to Louise's article ) - do you enjoy the newborn stage? Was it better / easier for you the second time around? Do you think it is also depends on whether you have an easy baby or not? 

PS Note to all new mom: It gets better and easier, I promise.

PPS How funny is this comment!  I usually just ignore these troll like comments, but it was too funny to let go unmentioned.  The reason my children are having regression issues is because I am selfishly sitting around, ignoring them while I obsess about cars and love handles.  Sorry darling, mommy can't pay attention to you now, I am busy thinking about a Toyota. One that is able to carry a heavy load - ie my lardy ass. 

Why can't people see your privates?

In another installment of 'mother always knows best' (subtitled 'I told you so'), Adam slipped and fell while he was messing around in a rain water canal thingy.  I told the kids it was too slippery to walk in, but they insisted.  Two seconds later Adam slipped and fell on his butt (it is always Adam), resulting in sopping wet pants and underpants.  We had just finished his speech therapy session and were on our way to Woollies to get supper. 

But instead of going straight to Woollies, I had to take off his pants and underpants and drive home first to put on another pair of pants. I was very happy, as you can well imagine.

Adam offered to stay in the car while I went inside the store (chance of that happening = zero. Not that it stops him offering each time we go to the shop) but I explained that even if I would allow it, he couldn't as he had no pants on and everyone would see his privates.

What followed was a series of 'whys' that eventually left me stumped.  I am normally quite good and only haul out the 'because I said so' in cases of emergency or extreme fatigue. 

But why can't people see my privates?

Because they are your privates and people aren't supposed to see them.

But why?

Because it is private and some things are not meant to be shared.

But why?

Because..... because.... those are the rules and that is that.

Gah. What is the appropriate answer for a 4 year old? Why can't people see your privates? You know, besides the 'because there are some sick fuckers out there'.

(and yes I know you are supposed to call 'privates' by their official latin name penista genitalia etc, but 'privates' is a collective noun in our house for the bits you aren't allowed to show other people. Why, I am not sure.)

Five things I love about being a mother

I’ve been asked to participate in a ‘round the world in 80 clicks’ tour, where moms all over the world blog about the five things they love about being a mom.  Some other mothers from around the world have also contributed, namely:

Sherry from Canada

Catherine from America

Beth from France

So here goes my contribution from Cape Town, South Africa

1.  First and foremost, the thing I love most about being a mother is the opportunity to love completely and unconditionally.  Before I had kids, people used to speak about this ‘unconditional love’ thing when referring to children. I always thought they meant how much your children love you – you know, unconditionally. They don’t see your flaws etc. But I was wrong. What I didn’t realize is that being a mother (or a father), allows you the honour and the privilege to love someone so utterly and completely, so unconditionally.  The love I feel for my children is more powerful and heady than any drug I have ever taken. It is like ecstasy on steroids.  To be able to experience that kind of love is a gift like no other.

2.  Many people say this, but only because it rings so true:  what I love about being a mother is experiencing the world through the eyes of my children.  I love that everything is adventure, that the most (to us) mundane things can be fun and exciting.  That things we take for granted, that we don’t even see anymore are suddenly enthralling again. What a trip!

3.  My children make me laugh.  They are really funny and we have the most amusing conversations.  Instant entertainment on tap, what a pleasure!

4.  My children make me proud.  I am in awe at how much my children learn and accomplish each day. What a pity we lose that as adults, because wow! They are super clever (<-- they get that from me)

5.  Being a mother makes me feel connected in a way that is so much more than I had before.  I feel incredibly connected to my children, to their future and to the world that will house them. I feel connected to my husband, with whom I share this special parenting privilege.  I feel connected to my mother – I now understand so much more about who she is and what she did for me.  I feel connected to other women, both mothers and non mothers.  Children bind you to your world in way that is both very scary/tiring and deeply comforting at the same time. 

And now it is my turn to tag five other (South African) mothers:

Belinda

Janine

Sister Mel

Tania

Debbie

You are welcome to participate as well, just link back to Sherry or Catherine above

The teaser and the cry baby

Coming a close second to finger nails on a chalkboard, there are few things more grating than your offspring fighting with each other. Of course, fighting and siblings go together like coffee and carrot cake (my current craving), so I understand that some fighting is inevitable among siblings, but OH MY GOD, the teasing and the resultant whining drive me INSANE.

Of course, with sibling close in age (ie one minute apart), they know exactly which buttons to press to get a reaction out of the other one.  And then you have the Tease/Whine reaction. 

Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine Tease/Whine  WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Until I want to murder both of them. 

I never know what to do.  Chastise the teaser for teasing, or chastise the whiner for being so fucking whiny.  Because OMG, that child can WHINE!  Ideally, I suppose, one should leave them alone to sort it out. They are evenly matched in terms of height, weight and annoyance-factor, so I could just wait it out until one murders the other, but to be quite honest, I am not sure I can last that long. 

What do you think?  Who should get moaned at?  The teaser for deliberating annoying / provoking the other, or the whiner for being such a wuss? 

No prizes for guessing who the teaser and who the whiner is. 

Momvise*

*Momvise is like assvise, but for moms. .

 

My kids are going through a stage (please let it be a stage!) where they seem to be dreaming a lot, and calling out in their sleep.  Not night terrors as such, at least I don’t think so. They don’t scream in fear, or are inconsolable, but they call out at night, sometimes sitting up when they do it.  Things like “No Adam, that is my XYZ”, or “Katie, STOP IT!”  At least once a night, sometimes twice.

 

When they call out, I immediately jump up and go to them.  I put my arm around them and say ‘sshhh, go back to sleep’ and I even ask them if they are having a bad dream. They will answer me, and then go back to sleep. 

 

This might not seem like a big deal (and isn’t to my husband who sleeps through the entire thing), but it is seriously disturbing my sleep! The kids know nothing about it in the morning when they wake up.  I suppose I should try not to jump up straight away, but I am scared the one will wake the other. Although the other one usually sleeps through the noise and even if they do wake up, they go back to sleep.  Actually, not sure what I am scared of. I guess I am scared of them being scared and I want to console them when I hear them call out.  BUT I NEED MY SLEEP!!! Sleep is in very short supply and in high demand here. And in four months time (FOUR MONTHS – EEEKK!!), I will be getting even less of it!

 

I don’t know. This has been going on for about 2-3 months now. Is this a stage?  What should I do?  Any assvise for me?

The parenting police take things a step too far?

I noticed a tweet this morning from someone I follow and popped over to read the link, and I was amazed at what I read. Have a read here for the full story, but in a nutshell, a blogger who has two daughters, wrote a twitter update about her daughter who would not go to bed, something along the lines of “do you think if I SMOTHER my child for not going to bed, it would be considered a crime?” A few hours later, the cops arrived at her door as someone (who follows her on twitter and should therefore recognize the blogger’s sense of humour and sarcasm) reported her for potential child abuse. At 11pm at night, she had to take the cops into her sleeping daughter’s bedroom to prove that hadn’t in fact smothered her daughter.

 

I am amazed that anyone could interpret what this blogger said literally and believe that she was honestly going to hurt her child. If you read the post just before the one linked above, which was posted either the same day, or the day before, she talks about how much she loves her daughter.

 

I don’t know, I really think that this is taking things a step too far. Honestly. I know child abuse exists in so many situations, but this is really over the top. To me, this is one example of many of how over-involved, over-judgemental, over policing we have become of each other’s ability to parent our own children. This is not about caring for children, about looking out for the children. This is not the ‘it takes a village to raise a child’. I live in a country where the real meaning of that sentiment still holds true. Where in traditional African culture, caring for all the village’s children is done by sharing, supporting and caring, not by judgement, paranoia and policing.

 

I’ve had quite a few incidents on this blog where the paranoid parenting police have chastised me for something they believe I have done wrong. Whether it is the way I discipline my kids, bath my kids, allow my kids to ride on their bikes, walk barefoot, eat, drink, suck dummies, eat/sleep/live.  Casual mentions in a post about something kid related will soon have the parenting police out with their fingers wagging and their heads shaking. I’ve learnt to brush it off, mostly, because I reckon I am a pretty good mother. I know that I have my faults, but I think I have the basics right. But each time it happens, I always wonder to myself – those parenting police, do they believe in their hearts that they are perfect all the time? That they are flawless and faultless? That their way is honestly the best way, the only way? Or are they just really, really perfect in THAT particular area that they have chosen to show me the error of my ways? How amazing it must be to be THAT confident in your own way of doing things, that you really do believe any other way is so absolutely wrong.  Right or wrong, no in between. But that self confidence is not enough, apparently. It would appear that there is a duty, an obligation on us as parents to point out to others (less informed? less able? slightly ineffectual? dangerously incompetent?) that if we are right, and you are doing something different to us, then you must clearly be wrong. And you need to be told so.

 

I think we are in danger of taking things too far, and I think that this is one example where it has gone a step too far.

 

But that is my opinion; I am interested in hearing yours. And please, if you would, let me know which country you are from when you respond. I am always fascinated to see the cultural influences in popular opinion.

 

 

 

Play Date Etiquette

My children are (almost) four years old, and I am completely clueless as to how play dates are supposed to happen.

 

The only ‘play dates’ we have ever had have either been with family (cousins) or with the neighbours.  And if I am not with them, my mom is.

 

So, when a brother and sister recently joined Adam and Kate’s school, and both my kids seemed to like one of the siblings, they seemed like the perfect kids to come over for a play date. We spotted them out recently and I asked the mother whether they would like to come over for a play during the holidays. She is newly single and has recently relocated to Cape Town after a long absence. I like her, and the kids liked her kids – perfect. I had visions of us sipping tea, eating cake and chatting up a storm while our kids played beautifully together.

 

We have been VERY excited for the play date. Every morning this week, the kids wake up asking if (boy) and (girl) are coming to play. Today was the day! We went to the shop and bought chocolate cupcakes for the kids and mini lemon meringue tarts for the moms. I tidied up, made the kids put on underwear and even made a reasonable effort with my appearance (i.e. my shorts and T shirt kind of matched).

 

Well, blow me down with a feather if the mother didn’t breeze in, drop her kids off and breeze out saying she would be back in an hour and a half to collect them*. I was gob smacked. What about our date? What about our tea?

 

I called Sister Mel to tell her about it and Sister Mel said it is normal, that is what is supposed to happen at play dates. I told her perhaps because my kids are twins and have each other that we have never been on a play date, we just aren’t used to how they are supposed to work. She said, ‘no, it is because you and Marko are antisocial fartbags and your poor kids have to suffer as a result’. Very rude if you ask me. But what about the mini lemon meringue tarts, I asked. Just bloody eat them yourself you nerd, she replied. I never really liked Sister Mel much, no respect.

 

I can’t imagine dropping my kids off at a play date and just leaving them there. Maybe after I had thoroughly inspected the premises, three times over, and run a background check on the parents and their direct relations. Sister Mel says I am an asshole. She might have a point.

 

The play date is going well’ish. Kate and (girl) are playing quite nicely. For the first time ever, Kate is playing with dolls because the other little girl is clearly more in the normal girl mode and wanted to play moms and babies. Kate is only too pleased to have someone to play with, that she is forgoing her usual dinosaurs, monsters and skeletons and playing with the dolls that have been gathering dust since two Christmases ago.

 

Adam is being a slightly less hospitable host. He has cried twice already, once because (boy) wouldn’t ride bikes with him and then because (boy) won the race and he didn’t. I am thinking (boy) is not going to be terribly keen on coming back.

 

Well, I’ve learnt something today. Apparently at four and six years old it is ok to drop your kids off for a play date unaccompanied.  Apparently most parents are considerably less uptight and more social than I am. This should not surprise me, I suppose.

 

Well, I am off to have a mini lemon meringue tart. On my own.

* To be fair, she did ask if it was ok. She had some things to do.

Edited to add: She has just been to pick up the kids and has invited us (including me!) over to their place next week. We have a social life, YAY!!

Another edit: I don't think she was wrong, at all. Any more than I would be wrong to want to stay at a play date, I was just surprised that's all. Thinking about it some more, it actually makes sense.  There aren't many opportunities for any mom to have some time off, especially a single mom! What I have learnt from your comments is that this seems to be the norm in Europe, and this mom and kids are from Europe. So I guess its a cultural thing and I am more like the uptight Americans than I thought *grin*   

Permission to take leave of official duties

It is summer holidays here, YAY!!! I doubt there are more glorious places in the world than Summer in Cape Town.

 

This it the time for sleeping late, chilling, lying on the beach, reading books, sipping cocktails, eating alfresco. Of course I won’t be doing any of that as I have two small kids and a business to run. However, I will be giving myself permission to take some time off from some of my official duties.

 

1. I won’t log on to the IBM network for THREE whole weeks, YAY!! (the Nurture work continues, but that isn’t work, that is my love and my passion)

2. I won’t stress about the kids watching more than x amount of TV. I won’t share how much X actually is as I am sure my X is more than your X.

3. But my biggest thing is, I am not going to stress about what the kids eat, when they eat etc.

 

Number 1 will be easy to achieve, number 2 won’t be an issue because they are outside most of the time, but number 3! I don’t know about number 3. I think it might be impossible for me not to care. IT FREAKS ME OUT that they don’t eat well. Marko keeps telling me to just relax about, they will eat when they are hungry, but somehow the message just doesn’t get through. But I really am going to try. Surely they won’t suffer any major damage in three weeks of bad eating??

 

What do you give yourself permission to do or not do during your holidays? (if you are doing any of the relaxing, sipping cocktails thing, please be discreet about it, I am pea green with envy!!)

PS You don't get 3 weeks leave a year?  That is only half of my annual leave, I will take a further two weeks off over Easter ;-)

For further information about Nurture Egg Donor Program in South Africa, check out www.nurture.co.za

 

High functioning ODD

So, you know I am odd, right? I am odd, very odd. I have a bit of ADD, a bit of ADHD, a lot of SPD/SID, and probably some other acronym that has yet to be discovered. All combined as ODD. I am a high functioning ODD. On the spectrum of ODD, I am rather ODD.

 

Among my many quirks, I have this thing where I get extremely anxious if I am in a situation that I can’t control (haha infertility, haha motherhood). When I was younger, we always used to go out in my car because I used to get anxious if I couldn’t leave exactly when I wanted to leave.  I also hate being dressed to warmly, because what happens if I am somewhere and I get too hot? I am never late, and getting lost makes me extremely anxious.

 

Yes, I know. None of this is logical. Logic has little meaning in my oddness.

 

Anyway, you can imagine what a total shock motherhood was to me. Now there is something you can’t control. I used to drive Marko crazy, ‘what if I’ve dressed them too warmly? They will get hot. What if I’ve dressed them too cool, they will get cold”. Back and forth. The thought of my babies getting too hot or too cold at night would FREAK ME OUT. Most mothers are concerned about this, but not to the point I was. Crazy.

 

Something inside of me changed when my children started communicating. I became far less uptight and anxious about everything.  It was a HUGE relief to me that they would tell me when they were too hot or too cold or hungry or thirsty or whatever. Huge relief.

 

But I still worry a little. The teacher must think I am a huge pain in the arse. I dress my kids quite cool, but I put a jacket on in the morning because it is a still a bit nippy in the morning. And then I say to them “if you get hot, tell Aunty B to take your jacket off, ok?” Um, Bridget, if it gets hot will you please take their jackets off. As if she won’t take them off by herself. I hear myself doing it, and I tell myself not to, but I can’t help it.

 

This morning, I had such a good laugh. We were driving to school and I saw that the weather was changing, some clouds were coming over. They had shorts and T shirts on (no shoes, obviously) and a jacket. But Kate’s jacket wasn’t a very warm one.

 

Me: Hmm, it looks like its getting cold. Your jacket is not that warm Kate, will you be ok?

Kate: Mom, you are such a pain

Me: Why?

Kate: Because you say all the time, Kate are you cold? Kate are you cold? Kate are you cold? 

Me: (laughs) Do I?

Kate: Yes

Me: I’m sorry my darling, mommy just worries if you get too cold.

Me: And what will you do if you get cold?

Kate: Whatever mom, whatever.

Me: (laughing) I do love you so, my darling child

Kate: Yes, but I don’t like to kiss

Me: I know, and that’s fine, you don’t have to

Adam: I like to kiss

Me: I know. Everyone is different, some people like to kiss, others don’t, and that’s fine.

 

Isn’t it strange how although Adam is so much like me in so many ways, Kate has inherited my reluctance to hug and kiss.  I don’t like to hug and kiss other people, but I hug and kiss my kids all the time. I am forever smooching with them, but Kate is not a big smoocher. She will kiss me and give me a Tertia hug (awkward hug, pat on the back), but poor Marko gets nothing. My mother always says to me how terrible it is to have a child who doesn’t like to hug or kiss (me) and now I know what it feels like. As for Adam, he would smooch Marko and I all day if he could, he is a champion, if somewhat gobby, kisser.

 

Anyway, just thought I would share that with you. I hope I don’t fuck my children up too much.  I suppose at least I am honest and upfront about my quirkiness, I hope that will help in their therapy.

 

( and I hope Kate isn’t too cold in her thin jacket)

 

 

And you don't even have to be a granny!

A blog reader sent me this very cool link to a website aimed specifically for Grandparents, but its actually for any parent.  Very cool article on 100 FREE! things to do with your kids. Check it out.

100 Free Things To Do With Your Grandkids

Play, learn, and create things together!

These days free is a wonderful word. That's why we've created a new guide to 100 Free Things to Do With Your Grandkids.

At Grandparents.com, we're always looking for ways to help you get more smiles, more fun, and more memories from the time you spend with your grandchildren.

Click Download Now for our printable guide.

PS - You don't think she sent me the link because even though I am knocked up, I am practically old enough to be a granny? Oh, woe is me!