14 things to know about sick kids

Eleven years and two sons in, I know a few things about sick kids. First and foremost – they are inevitable. No matter your lifestyle, diet or culture, your kids will get catch something, probably from another child, and get sick. Your best chance to survive their childhood is to be prepared.

By being prepared I mean I reckon every parent needs the following in their arsenal at all times: age appropriate paracetamol [Panadol] and ibuprofen [Nurofen], an age-appropriate and recommended anti-histamine, hydralite icy poles or sachets, bandaids, the number of an out-of-hours locum doctor, a reliable GP or local medical clinic, a list of any medications your child may be allergic to, a bucket, Glen-20 anti-bacterial spray, a thermometer and a thick skin.

If you’ve got all that, then you just need to remember these tips and you may get through the year without wanting to run off into the bush to escape all germs for the rest of your lives (though I promise that will cross your mind at least once when you’re drowning in the fifth virus your child[ren] have brought home that school term).

1. They get sick at the worst times

Right before a big event or just as you’ve booked an important work meeting or your bi-annual pap smear are the times that children are most likely to get sick. You can count on your plans being completely fucked at least half a dozen times a year and you can double that number with each extra child you have. You can’t plan for it either. Just don’t think you’re anything special when it happens to you. You’re not. You’re just a parent. Suck it up and cancel those plans buddy.

2. It’s always worse at night

This seems like pure sorcery doesn’t it? Kids can go from just being a bit flat and lethargic to a full-blown ebola outbreak the moment the sun goes down… or you fall asleep – which ever comes first. I don’t really understand the science in this. Perhaps there isn’t any but there really isn’t any escaping it either. If your kid is showing signs of illness during the day, then bunker down for the evening. This includes making sure you have enough medicine [yours and theirs] before the shops shut [learnt THAT one the hard way!]

3. Infections come on REALLY fast

This is another disturbing realisation. Bacterial infections multiply at a rate of knots in kids. It’s almost scary. I’ve watched my son complain of ear pain to having TWO burst eardrums in a matter of hours [at night of course]. The best thing you can do if you suspect an infection is to get a doctor to prescribe anti-biotics as soon as possible. Because as fast as those infections come on, the drugs seem to stop them just as quickly. Symptoms of any infection include: localised pain, fever, drowsiness, rash and extreme whingeing. In younger, non-verbal children they will often indicate where the infection is by pulling at or rubbing that area. In older children/husbands there may be declarations along the lines of “I think I’m dying.”

4. Panadol will become your best friend

Oh Panadol, how do I love thee? I have used age-appropriate doses of Panadol since my children were tiny babies. The effectiveness with which it stops a fever in its tracks is astounding and the most help a parent can get when their child is really sick. My eldest hated it when he was little though and would bring it up every time I gave it to him.

TIP: doctors recommend that you DON’T redose your child if they bring up their medication as you can’t be sure of how much they did ingest, risking overdose. 

I would not be thwarted though! They make Panadol in suppository form. *cunning smile* You know what that means right? Any time my son’s fever was too high or he was in pain from infection [throat, ears etc] I just popped him on the change the table and gave him a little paracetamol pressie. Yep, right up the kazoo. My husband couldn’t do it [soft] but I was the master… and ruthless!

5. You can give paracetamol and ibuprofen at the same time

This is a big tip and one that I’m surprised many parents are unaware of. You can give your child paracetamol [Panadol] AND ibuprofen [Nurofen] within the same dosage period. Eg, let’s say you give your child the correct dose of Panadol and after about an hour they are still in pain and/or their fever has not reduced. You can then give them the correct dose [within the usual Panadol dosage period of 4 hours] of Nurofen AS WELL. You DO NOT have to wait. They are two completely different medications and are often used concurrently by medical staff in hospitals. In fact, that’s where I first learnt about it. I have since confirmed it, regularly, with specialists, locum doctors and my own trusted GP. This is incredibly valuable information and could make all the difference during a night of sheer hell.

6. Locum doctors are travelling angels

I have had the best experience with on-call locum doctors. When my kids have been really sick outside of normal consulting hours travelling locum doctors have come TO MY HOUSE and carried out their consultation at my kid’s bedside. It is a sensational service and I highly recommend it. One doctor even let my youngest sleep through the entire consultation as he checked his ears and temp and listened to his breathing when he was really sick one night. It was seriously amazing and I would have hugged him if we weren’t both kneeling on the carpet in a lamp-lit bedroom in the middle of the night… #awkward. They often have at least a couple of doses of anti-biotics in their bag of tricks that will get you through til morning and the peace of mind they bring without having to traipse into an emergency department is worth its weight in gold.

7. The emergency department is hell on earth in the middle of the night

I have seen the emergency department in the middle of the night many times in my parenting life. It is never fun. I am usually there for HOURS, waiting, with any number of other parents with their sick kids. There’s screaming and crying and sleeping in every corner of the waiting area. All parents are processing their own internal triage to try to suss out where their kid sits in priority to others. There are lots of hot babies in nappies and singlets sitting on their parent’s lap. There are prams everywhere and exhausted adults and nurses who have seen it all before. Probably just last night. I get all OCD in emergency departments and won’t let my kid touch anything public that I haven’t wiped down first and when I get home I change them out of anything there were wearing in hospital in case they’ve brought home meningitis combined with gastro and polio. This is why, unless it’s an actual emergency, I call out a locum instead.

8. Back rubbing is certain

Oh the back rubbing that goes on when your child is sick. “Rub my back, Mum” is the chant of the sooky child.

9. Losing sleep is inescapable

Expect to lose lots of sleep and prepare for it. Go to bed early yourself if you can. Make sure all medicine is easily accessible and all syringes/medicine cups are clean for the midnight run. If your child has gastro [oh that hideous, hideous thing] do as I do and set up camp with a bucket in the lounge room. They’ll be chucking their guts up about every half an hour so settle in for a night vomitous hell.

10. Fevers can be scary

My kids have never actually convulsed from their fever but they do get a bit twitchy and glassy eyed.  Anything over 38 degrees and I go in HARD and fast to  try to get it down as soon as possible. This includes stripping them down to underwear and placing a cold flannel on their forehead and pulse points if required.

11. They won’t want to eat

Kids will listen to their bodies and will tell you when they’re hungry. If they don’t want a meal, don’t force it. Keep them going with crackers, jellies, mild fruits like watermelon and soups. Let them guide you, within reason but remember the most important thing is to keep them hydrated. A dehydrated child can get into trouble very quickly.

12. Gastro often presents at both ends

At the same time. It can be a total, revolting, explosive nightmare. The best way to tackle that, if your child is toilet-trained, is to pop them on the toilet when they’re ready to spew and let them vomit in a bucket while it comes out the other end straight into the loo.

13. Mother’s instinct is a diagnostic tool

You know your child. Trust that. I can tell when my kids are getting sick before they even know it. I also know what they’re susceptible to. One runs hot and one runs cold so their fever temperatures are different. I will happily question a doctor’s diagnosis if I’m not happy with it and will seek a second opinion without a blink of an eye. You know your child. If all you’ve got to go on is that they just don’t seem right then go with it and don’t stop until they’re right again. Better to err on the side of neurosis, I always say.

14. Kid’s germs travel

They will cry on you and sneeze on you and dribble on you and even vomit on you. The amount of germ-infested body fluids that you will be covered with will be hard to avoid. All I can say is wash your hands as much as possible. Don’t share pillows or cutlery and wash all the bed linen and towels as soon as possible without being a nutcase. But know that even with all possible precautions made, statistics show that you will get at least half of your kids lurgies every year. 

Just pray their father doesn’t get them too.

The Father Christmas Dilemma

Things I didn’t expect before I became a mum #698 - The Father Christmas issue is a big one when your kids are little.

In my family, we grew up believing that if we were good, all we needed to do was ask the big man for our gifts and they would appear... or sometimes not but we seemed to understand that Father Christmas delivered different types of presents to different kids. I don’t know how we reconciled that in our own young minds but we managed. Visiting him was a bit of a problem though and I’ve got a few teary photos on or near his knee. He’s weird looking and always so hot to sit on. Blegh. Nonetheless, it’s what we knew and I never thought twice about it. Until I had my own kids.

If I’m to be honest, which I promised myself I would be when I began writing, I’m not a big fan of Father Christmas. The whole concept just doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t like the idea that presents appear magically from a man my children have never met just because the day  [and tradition] says so. I don’t like that they go and sit on his knee and ask him for any number of gifts and they will appear, in exchange for some carrots and a glass of milk/beer.  I don’t like that there’s no-one to thank for those presents. And, for me, it’s not enough to just see them excited to open something up from under the tree. 

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not anti-Christmas or anti-presents. I’m not the Grinch. I’m just not a fan of the big man.

So, this is how we do Christmas. 

As much as I don’t like the FC concept, I also don’t want my kids to be the ones to ‘bring down Christmas’ for everyone else’s kids either. This is how I compromise. 

In our household Father Christmas fills up their stockings with lots of little presents. He gives them balls and books and lego and textas and cds and dvds and card games and anything FUN that will fit in their Christmas stocking. Not all at once of course – but those are the sorts of things that FC brings them. I act just as surprised as they are when they open each one up exclaiming ‘isn’t he clever to know what you like??!’ and other things like that. It really is a lot of fun and the boys love it. Under the tree they will find clothes from us [we always got clothes for Christmas and I've carried that on] and maybe something special like a new pool toy. Then, each Christmas, Mark and I buy them ONE BIG present to share from us. Things like a remote control racetrack or a high-end basketball ring. This year we’re planning on giving a soccer table. We like to give things that encourage them to play together, without a screen even though they ask, every year, for a wii, playstation, bla bla. We’ve got another couple of years’ resistance in us – I hope! 

So, when the BIG ONE comes out and they unwrap it, Mum and Dad get the big hugs and thanks and gratitude. They understand that it hasn’t arrived magically, out of thin air, from some man that they don’t know. They see that the work that Mum and Dad does results in special things for the family and we talk about why we gave it to them. We tell them that we thought about it and remembered a time that they played with one somewhere else and loved it and so we saved up and bought them one. Not in a, ‘this is a learning experience’ kind of way, but in a ‘we’re really happy that you like it’ kind of way. The way we do as grown-ups when we give presents to friends that we’re excited about... wait – do you do that? I do. As soon as I see the recipient like my gift, I get all gushy and tell them why I thought they’d like it and how I had find it online or I just saw it in the shop and HAD to buy it for them. But maybe that’s just me!

Is this the right way to do Christmas? I’m not sure, but I think we’ve covered our bases. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. One of the great challenges of parenting is compromising what you once believed to be unwavering values in theory for the reality of life.

How do you do Christmas and how do you handle the FC situation? 

My kids ARE NOT fussy eaters!

This is often what lunch looks like for the boys on the weekend

My kids ARE NOT fussy eaters... they’re particular.

My boys eat well. They like vegies and meat and fish and fruit. They enjoy food not typically liked by kids like anchovies on their pizza and whole gherkins on their antipasto plate and triple cream French Brie and Spanish goats cheese and pickled herrings on brown bread with raw onion and salty Dutch licorice. 

Their palate is broad BUT they do not eat everything.

I get defensive when people refer to my kids as fussy eaters. Aren’t we all fussy when it comes to food? There’s lots of food I simply won’t eat, so is it unreasonable for me to expect my children to eat everything that’s ever offered to them? I think it is. It’s exasperating at times when they don’t like something new that I’ve asked them to try, but I accept that they may not. 

So when I’m meal planning, I always consider the following palate nuances of my family kids [my husband eats everything]:

Texture – my kids can’t stand anything mushy. This includes mashed potato, boiled vegetables, mornays. It also includes any vegetables that have been cooked in a saucey dish like carrots in a casserole or soup. But the upside is they’re BIG on salads, steamed crisp vegies, french fried chips and crunchy tuscan style potatoes [‘cause they’re just square chips]

Sauce – the eldest hates ‘saucey’ dishes. So when I serve casserole, for example, I have to only serve him with just the meat out of it without the sauce.

Pasta – they will both eat just about any pasta combination. Except cream sauces. This makes my life incredibly easy. It also means every month I will make Bolognese, spaghetti and meatballs and lasagne at least once each.

Rice – because they won’t eat mashed potato, I serve most of our dishes with rice which they love.

Soup – they will only eat one. Home-made chicken noodle. Served with rice.

Cake – the eldest doesn’t care for it. He can do a cupcake, sometimes, out of politeness but most times he’ll decline any offer. His favourite cake, that he asks for every birthday, is a vanilla, banana cake I make with Betty Crocker vanilla icing. The youngest has more of a sweet tooth but is still not driven by cake. Neither of them like creamy desserts.

Sandwiches – the youngest always asks for the works. Ham, lettuce, cucumber, cheese, avocado, mayo. Crusts cut off. The eldest’s FAVOURITE is fresh tomato and salt. Crusts on. He can eat 3 in a sitting. They won’t eat peanut paste or cheese spread but I can get away with serving them vegemite or honey. The whole family will put away a platter of BLT’s in minutes.

Meat – the eldest only likes roast lamb done on the weber. My youngest will eat any lamb but particularly loves lamb loin chops with the fat on. They both love steak and home-made hamburgers, chevaps and sausages.

Chicken - roast, take-away, yiros, satay, stir-fry, schnitzel. They love it.

Tacos – BIG winner. EVERTHING is crunchy so they make their own and throw them back.

Fish – I confess, we don’t eat a lot of fish in this household. But when we do, the kids are on board. Tommy ruffs, salmon steaks, whole snapper, tinned tuna. All baked or pan-fried, served with salad and chips. Nothing saucey except mayonnaise.

Eggs – If they’re fried, then they have to have the yolk broken and spread out and cooked right through so that it looks like a pancake. They call it ‘flat egg’. If they’re hard boiled they have to be JUST cooked in the centre and never runny. They will not eat omelette or scrambled egg.

But even knowing all these food preferences, does not always mean dinner time is easy. Sometimes they’re not in the mood for what I’ve cooked and sometimes they’ve filled up on after school snacks. Most times, because I know I’ve considered everything they like, I will make them eat as much as possible anyway. But if they’ve been served something that I know they don’t like, I will support them in their polite refusal to eat it. Just as I would expect any grown-up to support my choice to not eat something I really don’t like.

My advice to newer mums than me when they have ask how to deal with a fussy eater, is always the same. 

Firstly, consider texture. If they don’t like carrots too crunchy – steam them. If they don’t like mashed potatoes, roast them. Sometimes you can still get them eating the food you want them to [and that the rest of the family is] if you just prepare it differently. 

Secondly, if there is a food flavour that they really can’t tolerate – then don’t make them eat it. If your child’s diet is healthy and diverse, does it really matter that they don’t like avocado? If they will happily eat apples, mandarins, grapes and peaches, is it important that they eat bananas too? 

Of course, you must use your own instinct to sniff out a trickster. If you habitually provide dessert after dinner and they know you’re gonna let them have it whether they finish dinner or not – then chances are you’re being played. And don’t even get me started on the trap of offering sweet treats as a reward for eating the good stuff. That’s a whole other blog post.

There are LOTS of helpful blogs and sites with great tips on how to introduce food to kids who are fussy and if your kid is, then I’d suggest you check them out.

But just make sure they are actually fussy first.

Do you have fussy eaters? Or are they just particular?

I'm a mum but...

I don’t like kids.

Well, it’s not so much that I don’t like them but more that they annoy the living shit out of me.

I know, that’s going to really surprise some of you, but I’m all about keeping it real and though I do, truly, love being a mum and love my boys, kids in general suck.

Now, I can put up with all the infuriating things my kids do because the upside is the love and joy they bring to my heart and life. Most times that’s tipped in their favour. Most times.

But when the kid’s not mine … weeeelll….I... struggle. And when a mum pushes her annoying kid onto me I can barely disguise my disdain.

Example. “Go on, Annoying Johnny, give Tania a kiss and a hug. Go on, show her that cute little dance move you do. Oh go on, sing that song you sing to me – she’ll love it.”

NO. No, I won’t. 

Dear parent of annoying kid, I’m glad you think it’s cute that your kid sings, dances, counts with claps and spins like a whirling dervish but I really don’t. I don’t care.

The thing is, sometimes I care. The same way I care about some grown-ups and not so much others. Some kids I can connect with and I’m genuinely amused with every little expression on their face. But there’s PLENTY that do not amuse me. There’s plenty that just piss me off and most of the time I deal with that the way I do anything annoying -- by ignoring them. By not engaging with them.

Oh and don’t even get me started on the ‘birthday’ parent. You know who you are. You’re the one that offers your kid to help blow out someone else’s birthday cake. THAT DRIVES ME MAD. It’s not their birthday. That day is not about YOUR CHILD. Sometimes, the world doesn’t revolve around kids. It’s a lesson in resilience and humility that they need to learn. Also, when kids blow – they spit. I can tell you now that I will not eat any cake that a kid has blown the candles out on. Blegh.

I dread school concerts. I resist school plays. I downright refuse invitations to ballet recitals. Unless the stage is full of child prodigies [which my kids ain’t] then I’ve just spent $10-$30 to sit in a school hall on Facebook.

Yep, kids are annoying. And after two weeks straight with them during the school holidays I've come up with the following list. It's far from complete. Just saying.

My top 5 most annoying things kids [especially including mine] do are:

1. Interrupt incessantly

I’m TALKING. My mouth is moving, sound is coming out and hopefully an adult is listening. If I’m not talking then I’m trying to listen to someone else who is. Whether they are in front of me or on the phone now is not the time that I want to hear from you.

2. Involve themselves in grown up conversation

I’m sorry, how interested in your primary school opinion do you think I am? And kids who correct their parents during a conversation that doesn’t involve them. And kids who eavesdrop. And kids who flap about saying ‘she said the F word’. And kids who think it’s cool to be a smart arse to their parents in front of other grown-ups. And... and... and...

3. Use that annoying, whining voice

Mum, mum, mum, mum... It’s not fair. He hit me. Can I have a [insert something they’re not allowed to have]? Can we go? I’m bored? Why do I have to do that? SHUT.UP. My youngest is a drama queen and does this thing when he’s upset, particularly when he’s over-tired, where he will just cry. Out loud. It’s insane. And I tell him so. “If you’re going to make that noise, you need to take yourself to your bedroom because I do not want to hear it”. Mostly that just turns it into a wimper, but he gets the point.

4. Put their filthy hands all over the food

Kids do not wash their hands properly. It’s a fact. Also, I have seen mine wash their hands and walk out the bathroom picking their nose. What. The. Fuck. So, I hate it when they put their hands all over my food. When I entertain I purposely put out kids’ snacks and grown up snacks. Partly because I buy expensive cheese for the adults and the kids get cheap crap but mainly because I don’t like to share with grots. It makes me wild when mums let their kid’s hands on my grown up snacks. Especially the indecisive ones that have to pick up every fucking thing and put it back before they choose.

5. Complain about life

Actually, I haven’t heard many other kids do this but I’m sure they do. When mine complain about their life I go a bit mental. They’ve got the greatest life in existence. And the best mum. Be grateful.

Be honest... what annoys YOU about kids? And if you say nothing... can you please babysit mine this weekend?

Things to do in SA these school holidays

There are many mums who get excited at the prospect of school holidays. They like the fact that the routine goes out the window and they get to spend all day everyday with their kids. It heralds special times of afternoon tea and pjs all day. There are mums like that. Then there's the other sort of mum. The mum who kind of dreads school holidays because the routine goes out the window and they get to spend all day everyday with their kids. It heralds nagging and sibling punch-ups and expensive outings and cabin fever. For those mums, I've put together a short list of things to do that get the kids out the house and won't cost a stack of dollars. 

The other mums might like the list too. And dads. And grandparents. In fact, as long as you're in SA, it's worth checking out.


South Australian Museum

My kids love going to the museum. We usually try to include a tram trip at the same to add to the adventure. These activities are free and best suited for kids aged 5 and up. With all activites held inside, it's a great wet weather destination.

Sleeping Beauty in Rundle Mall

If you've got a helping hand this is a great idea. Head into the city [take the bus to save on parking and add to the adventure] and set the kids and your 'helping hand' up at the show... and then sneak off to do some shopping. WIN!

Botanic Gardens

This school holiday program is great and the costs are very low. Don't forget to book though.

Hahndorf Farm Barn

The Farm Barn is particularly fun for the younger kids. It's open from 10-4pm every day and has some good family concession pricing.

Art Gallery of South Australia

Only $5 to participate in this activity. Bookings essential.

Granite Island

This is a great one. Take a drive down the coast and head out to granite island to see the penguins. Fun for the whole family and cheap as chips.


Can you suggest anything else local that the kids'll love and won't cost a fortune?

A lesson I didn’t teach my son

My eldest boy, Nathan, cried himself to sleep tonight. And when I say cried, I mean he sobbed. Loudly. With big tears rolling down his cheeks and noises that occur when one is simultaneously heartbroken and desperately trying to stifle the pain.

I held him on my lap for a long time. His long, 8 year old legs wrapped around me and his face buried into my shoulder. It’s not regular behaviour for him. Not much really affects him. He’s unusually pragmatic for a primary school kid, so I really feel for him when he’s upset. I just could not work out WHY.

We’ve had my little two and a half year old nephew with us today. Three boys in the house is actually not too bad. My boys are really patient with their cousin and love to just hang out with him. But sometimes, even though he’s a really good boy, we forget that our house is no longer ‘toddler proof’. And we are most often ‘reminded’ by something going wrong. And something went wrong tonight. Clearly more wrong than I initially thought.

Rest in peace, Sticky Slinky x

One of Nathan’s little toys was broken. Beyond repair kind of broken. It was a piece of crap in my opinion. A little man made of that horrible sticky stuff that you can throw against a wall and it will ‘climb’ down. Like a slinky but sticky. A sticky slinky man. I could NOT see the big deal about his 'death by toddler' but what Nathan sobbed to me, took me by surprise.

“I worked so hard to get him, Mum”

Wait... What?

We don’t do pocket money here yet. We believe kids should help out around the house as part of their contribution to the family and it’s only for things ‘above and beyond’ the call of duty that they should earn money for and there’s not much of that required. Plus, we just don’t think young kids need to have their own money. I’m not saying it’s the right way or the wrong way, it’s just our way. We try to create opportunities for them to earn ‘experiences’, like “if we all weed the garden we can go to the park” or something like that. So I couldn’t understand what the hell he was talking about when he told me he’d worked for something.

I racked my foggy, pinot gris brain for a memory of him working for Sticky Slinky and came up with nothing. And then, through the fog, I remembered. He brought Sticky Slinky home from a party he went to on the weekend. An Intensity party. Where the kids go along and get unlimited access to ‘arcade’ games for a couple of hours. Games which produce tickets depending on your skill levels. Ergo, the better you are at the game, the more tickets you get and the more tickets you get, the better your redemption rate.

Are you still with me?

Nathan ‘worked HARD’ earning those tickets. He teamed up with his best mate and they worked a system out to get the maximum number of tickets possible and then they took their ‘earnings’ to the 15 year old gatekeeper who told them what they could ‘buy’ with their loot. Turns out Sticky Slinky required the most amount of tickets. And now he’s dead. And Nathan is devastated.

And that’s how, without me even trying, my son learned the value of working for something. 

What's a lesson your kid has learned that you didn't teach them?

Happy 1st Birthday Seventies Baby

When I started blogging, I had two objectives. To write, which has always been a kind of therapy for me, and to share. As my 'voice' developed, I discovered something amazing. There is magic in the story. There is magic in me.  

"The stranger who tells our stories when we cannot speak not only awakens our spirits and hearts but also shows our humanity"   Mende Proverb, Sierra Leone

I always get a little bit nostalgic on birthdays, so I have spent the morning re-reading my stories and I thought I'd share a selection of my favourite posts from the last year that you may have missed or may just like to revisit.

1. My first post - the one about mums at school.

2. 50 Shades of Twilight - the one I had the most fun writing... [warning: involves anal plugs and nipple clamps]

3. Make My Day - the one that I go a bit mental in.

4. While you were sleeping - the one that makes me cry a little bit when I read it.

5. 10 Parenting Rules - the one that went viral.

6. Dear Men - the one where I write about dry-humping.

7. Stretch-mark Swagger - the one about my thighs.

Do you have a favourite? Is there a story you'd like me to tell?

Frank, my dear, doesn't give a damn

“You’ll never guess who just walked into the shop”

That’s how the phone call from my very good friend started today. It sounds delicious doesn’t it? Who? I almost squealed, excited. Hopeful for some gossip.

“That bitch, Deidre Smith*”

Oh. Not so delicious. Not gossip. Horrible, confronting and painful news.

Deidre is the wife of the man who molested my friend’s two children when they were very young. She is the mother of my friend’s ex-defacto, her children’s step-father. She is the woman who didn’t participate in the molestation but knew about it. Turned a blind eye to it. Kept quiet about it. Enabled it. 

She is the woman that my friend and I HATE.

It’s a strong emotion, I know. But it sits real and heavy in our guts. My friend, let’s call her Molly [because I don’t actually KNOW anyone called Molly] has grown children now, but at the time of their abuse they were both under 5 years old. Molly didn’t know what was happening then. But Deidre did. SHE KNEW. And we hate her for knowing and for sharing cups of tea with Molly and smiling in photos with Molly’s kids and for getting on with her life,seemingly unaffected.

There are many, many resources for childhood victims of molestation, sexual abuse and rape. There is support. There is a general level of public understanding and empathy. In our culture, at least. As there should be. But often, it is the family of the victims that are forgotten though they suffer too. Make no mistake the ripple effect of child molestation is more like a tsunami... some people drown, some people never return after being swept away and homes are destroyed.

In Molly’s case, her suffering is threefold. 

First she has had to endure almost crippling guilt at the realisation that this happened ‘on her watch’ and SHE HAD NO IDEA that it was happening. It wasn’t until her children were grown up that they finally revealed to her what they had suffered as preschoolers. 

Secondly she has had to deny her own deep, burning desire to exact revenge on her children’s abuser AT THEIR EXPLICIT REQUEST. 

And lastly,it is her ongoing struggle to support an adult son who battles debilitating depression and agoraphobia as a result of the horrific acts against him as a toddler.

There was never any reason to suspect the man who molested Molly’s children. I’m going to call him Frank because that’s actually his name and it feels good for me to ‘out’ him, albeit under a shroud of anonymity. Frank was a lovely man. He was friendly and funny and charming. He had good relationships with his friends and a pleasant, happy wife. Two successful, grown [childless] sons. He looked after his home well and loved Molly’s kids. AND THEY LOVED HIM TOO. Molly could barely believe it when she finally found out what had happened, it seemed so unlikely.

And that’s what I’m here to tell you. It’s not always obvious when children are being molested. In fact, it often isn’t. In this, real-life, example I can tell you the following truths:

• Those kids WANTED to visit Frank. EVERY TIME.
• Molly TRUSTED Frank.
• Neither of Frank’s grown sons gave ANY INDICATION that something was ‘not right’ with their dad.
• Frank’s own wife welcomed Molly’s kids into her home and turned a blind eye when Frank visited them in bed. And the bathroom. And the shed.
• Molly’s kids showed NO SIGNS of being uncomfortable or scared of Frank. 

The other truths I can tell you are these. When a child’s innocence is stolen by sick bastards like Frank, it affects the rest of their life and the rest of their family and the rest of their family’s lives. When pricks like Frank get their revolting paws onto babies, hearts are ruined. When disturbed fuckers like Frank are left unchecked, scars are formed and futures are destroyed and hatred grows and grows and grows.

My final truth is this. Sometimes sick fuckers look like nice guys... and girls. Sometimes the only thing standing between your child and some disgusting pig is you, your gut instinct and your perceived over-protectiveness. It is your responsibility to be ever vigilant with your kids. Don’t assume you’ll KNOW that there’s something going on. Hundreds of thousands of people have proven how easy something like this goes undetected. In the case of Molly’s family even her two kids didn’t know it was happening to the other.

My friend Molly hates Frank and she hates Deidre too. She was happy to hear that he suffered before he died. She was happy to know that his last days were not easy, just as her son’s days are not easy either. She had nothing to say to Deidre that day. She was paralysed with rage and her voice was strangled with betrayal. But Molly’s ready for her when she comes again.

And Deidre better watch her back.

*Deidre Smith is a make-believe name for a real-life monster.

Please, if your gut is telling you something isn't right with your little one... seek external help. Follow the links in this blog or contact your state government department listed here.

"the world is in greater peril from those who tolerate or encourage evil
than from those who actually commit it"
ALBERT EINSTEIN (1879-1955)

Is your kid allergic to calories?

The war on fat is a hot topic these days. Childhood obesity. Positive body image. Fat shaming. Kids on diets. Reality weight loss shows. 

I’m really interested by it all. Really. Not so much about adult obesity. I understand most of that but I’m fascinated by fat kids. I saw a really obese boy play soccer against my son’s team a couple of weeks ago. He was huge. He could barely walk, let alone run. He couldn’t reach for the ball. He couldn’t keep up with the pack. He certainly would have weighed more than me. And he was playing for an UNDER 8 team. I wondered why he’s overweight. I wondered what his parents are doing to allow him to be overweight. I felt sad for him because he’s so young and if he’s struggling now – what does that mean when he’s older. When his poor eating habits are entrenched. Are his parents doing his future a huge injustice? “At least he’s being active” one of the other parents said. Active?? Being active isn't gonna cut it for this guy. The kid is eating himself to the point of bursting!

I recently read The Heavy by Dara-Lynn Weiss. It's a memoir of a mother helping her overweight 6 year old daughter lose enough weight to no longer be considered obese. Thought provoking to say the least. Confronting to be more accurate. In it Weiss talks about how she allowed her daughter to be obese. How she enabled it. She talks about the backlash she received when she put her daughter on a strict calorie counting regime. What she believes was the only way her daughter could shed the kilos. She talks about how she was judged and how society made it so hard for her to teach her daughter how to make sensible food choices. How to manage her portions. Mothers who would override her parenting decisions at parties, feeling the need to defend her ‘poor little girl’. It pissed me off reading it. She talks about other kids who have allergies. To nuts, eggs, dairy, shellfish. Others who are intolerant to gluten and cows milk. The support those children get is enormous. Other mothers will willingly omit nuts from a party table or prepare special gluten-free treats so that their child doesn’t miss out. 

But what if your kid is allergic to calories? Is it not your responsibility, as their parent, to help them manage their food choices?

Have you noticed that everywhere you look there’s someone talking about loving yourself, and others, no matter what size we all are? Empowering men and women alike to embrace their bodies and to be unapologetic about their excess weight. It’s an important shift, I think, to help people who struggle with their weight to be less ashamed, embarrassed or defensive. It speaks to the emotions of all of us and supports us in our life choices. I think it is right that grown-ups get to choose how they want to live. Though I am confused that there’s a movement to say it’s ok for grown-ups to choose to be overweight but not for them to choose to be incredibly thin. How is starving yourself any less healthy or deserving of judgement than over-eating? Why do we celebrate eating cake and scorn dieting? And why – why – do we say it’s ok for kids to be overweight when they’re still kids? When there’s no medical reason that they should be.

Side note – I’d just like to point out, at this poignant stage, that when I talk about overweight kids, I’m not talking about those beautiful Michelin rolls on a baby or the rubber band wrists of a healthy toddler or the big swollen cheeks of a preschooler... ‘cause that shit’s just gorgeous.

Parenting is a tough gig. There’s a thousand choices you have to make for your kids every day and sometimes the choice you made yesterday, you can’t be bothered making today. Like yesterday it was really important to me that the kids made their beds but today, in the morning melee, I didn’t care so much so they went to sleep in unmade beds tonight. Meh... But when you've got a kid who's constantly nagging you for food, most often unhealthy food, it's easy to be worn down. 

Consistency is hard and on top of that we all enter the parenting arena carrying our baggage and sometimes our own extra weight. I saw a commercial of the current The Biggest Loser season [no, I don’t watch it] which just happens to be about fat parents and their fat kids, where one of the daughters says something along the lines of ‘Why should I listen to what you’ve got to say about me losing weight when you’re so fat yourself?’ aaaah... I recognise that one. Do as I say, not as I do. I’ve played that one myself a couple of times I reckon. But I can’t help but think that if Mum had STARTED the healthy choices regime while her daughter was a lot younger, then they wouldn’t be in this predicament. 

And make no mistake, it’s a predicament. Apparently it’s a fucking epidemic.

 

Who really is to blame for childhood obesity? Fast food? Too much screen time? Too many sweets? Poor portion control? Not enough physical activity? Mum and Dad?

I’m saying all of the above. PLUS I’m going to add – the price and availability of good food. When you’re paying in the vicinity of $8 per kilo for fresh fruit/vegies, $5 for a loaf of bread and upwards of $28 per kilo for a lean cut of meat at the local supermarket then those monster packets of chips for $1.50 and family feasts at the drive-through for $25 look pretty appealing. In fact, they look almost impossible to say no to. Especially if you, the parent, really want them too.

Let’s help our next generation become grown-ups who understand healthy food choices. Who understand that being neither skinny or overweight matters but being fit and well does. Let’s stop giving in to their cravings. Let’s stop using food as an emotional pleaser. As a bribe and as a peacemaker. 

It won’t be easy. I know because I’ve already started. My boys are fit and well and currently have zero risk of being obese but I want them to understand what being healthy is all about. I’ve stopped using food as an incentive. I say ‘stopped’ because I used to. “if you eat this broccoli/bean/tomato, you can have a sweet treat after”. The more I thought about the culture that was breeding, the more I felt uncomfortable with it. Now I use play time as an incentive or a favourite activity. I realised I was teaching them that one group of food was a distasteful chore and another group was a delicious reward. Now I try to use language that presents all food as equally distasteful delicious.

Which is not to say that I don’t allow treats anymore. Oh, I do. But if I’m to be completely honest, they’re more for me than them.

And I reckon that’s the point of this whole post.