I've got this

"Mum, I don't feel well'

Those words are always so heavily laden with dread but never more so than hearing them at two o'clock in the morning.

It's dark, it's cold and I'm in my deepest sleep. The voice comes from the left of me which is strange 'cause I can feel a small, warm body cuddled up to the right of me. Oh right. The youngest has made his way into my bed sometime earlier, slipping in unnoticed. It's the eldest who's standing next to the bed. Sniffling.

"You'll be ok hon. Just go back to bed and try to sleep it off"

I'm not good at being woken up in the middle of the night. When the boys were newborns I was ok because there was no middle of the night. I was working on a 24 hour clock broken into increments of 'feeds'. Now though, the middle of the night is not a good place for me and I will do anything to stay in bed. Including sending my sick son back to bed without any intervention from me. Which he does.

Exactly 8 minutes later he's back. 

"I still feel sick Mum. I feel really, really bad. I need you to come."

Ugh.

So now I'm up. Dressing gown is on and I'm at the medicine cupboard. Thermometer. Check. Kids Panadol. Check. Measuring cup. Check. Cup of water to wash down the Panadol. Check. Deep breath and smiling bedside manner. Check.

He's waiting for me all bundled up in bed. He's miserable which is very unusual for him. My eldest doesn't like a fuss. He hates to be sick so will usually do his best ignore all symptoms and just get on with it. Not tonight though. The thermometer beeps and confirms my lips-on-the-forehead assessment. 36.7C. No temp. 

"What do you feel hon?"

"My throat is really sore." 

I'm not a doctor but I have had 8 years of diagnostic training. I check his neck. His glands are up and he's a bit tender. Tonsilitis? No fever so probably not. I sit there in the dim light and consider what it could be. And then he coughs.

And he sounds like a seal barking.

"Oh hon, I think you've got croup."

"Is that bad Mum? I feel really bad."

"No hon, it's not bad. I'll make it better."

It's now 2.30am and I'm giving him Panadol. I promise to stay with him until he falls asleep again, which I know will be about the time that the Panadol kicks in. I slowly and gently rub his back and watch his 8 year old face relax.

I'm back in bed just after 3am and immediately I feel warm little feet against my legs. The 5 year old is still there, hogging my pillow. I'm awake now so I mentally prepare for the day ahead which will start in a few hours and which I'm facing with half a tank of fuel. A trip to the doctor; notify the school; cancel my morning's meetings; think about dinner 'cause we're clearly not going out now; be ready for the little one who'll be jealous that the big one is staying home and he's not.

I sigh, no longer pissed off that I've been woken up in the middle of the night. I feel strong. Tired but strong. 

I'm a mum. I've got this.

What does a mum look like?

My mum looks amazing. She looks strong and proud and determined. She looks fit. She looks like a tiger, always ready to pounce, always protecting her cubs. She looks like a lady with painted nails and coloured lips. 

She looks like a kick boxer, always in her family’s corner. 

She looks like a dancer. She looks like a dad. She looks like a daughter who is sad without her mother. She looks like a child laughing with my boys. My mum looks like a racing car driver with her seat laid back and her gloved hands on the wheel. She looks like a bread winner. She looks like a model walking in heels with a strut I’ve never been able to imitate. She looks like a boss. She looks like a clairvoyant, calling on her intuition to predict the future. She looks like a clown holding court with her hilarious stories. She looks like a counsellor always ready with advice – sought or otherwise. 

She looks like an inspiration. She looks like an aspiration.

My boys’ mum looks like me. I hope they see a mum that looks like their protector. I hope they see a mum that looks strong and fit. I hope they see a mum with arms big enough for the whole family. I hope they see a mum with a heart that shines through her eyes whenever she looks at them. I hope they see a mum that is larger than life itself when they stand behind her for protection. I hope they see a mum that laughs with them. I hope they see a mum who’s not ashamed to cry. 

I hope they see a mum with magic in her kisses. 

I hope they see a mum who stands on the sidelines chanting their name and heading their fan club. I hope they see a mum who knows when to be quiet and let them shine. I hope they see a mum who is a mind reader that somehow knows what they’re thinking even when they don’t. I hope they see a mum who they will always want to hug. I hope they see a mum who is a master chef. I hope they see a mum that’s important to the whole world, and not just theirs. I hope they see a mum who is fair. I hope they see a mum who leads. I hope they see a mum who will follow their dream too. I hope they see a mum who is smart and has the answers. 

I hope they see a mum who’s not afraid to tell them that she doesn’t know. 

I hope they see a mum who thinks she’s beautiful. I hope they see a mum who looks for the beauty in others. I hope they see a mum who delivers on her promises – good and bad. I hope they see a mum they can respect. 

I hope they see a mum that they can point out to their friends and proudly say ‘That’s my mum’

What does a mum look like to you?

My mum hates my blog

It's true. Mum hates my blog. Well, she doesn’t hate it as much as fears it. She loves my writing and she loves that other people love my writing but she hates that people read what I have to say. She hates that I have a place, on-line, that I share stuff about me and my opinion and my loves and my hates. And she hates my blog mainly because of this post I’m writing right now. The one she doesn’t know I’m writing. The one about her.

When Mum finds out about this, which she will ‘cause her friends love my blog and they read it all the time, she’s gonna lose her shit. And when my mum loses her shit – the world knows. She’s that kind of mum. The outspoken kind. The opinionated kind. The awesome kind.

Being born in the 70s meant that my mum was young. It wasn’t the norm, back then, to wait until you had ‘done stuff’ before you had kids. You got married as soon as you could and had kids straight away. Which in Mum’s case was at the ripe old age of 20. Being born to a 20 year old in the 70s was a very different parenting dynamic than today. There weren’t books or websites or online forums or help-lines or social media communities or parenting shows. 

There was only this... On the job training. 

And, unbeknownst to me, it was during my mum’s on the job training that I cut my own teeth on being a mum. Today, 40 years after she started the ball rolling, I see myself parent in her style. It’s equally as terrifying as comforting. Terrifying because I hated some of what she did and comforting because what she did created some pretty impressive grown-ups [yes, I’m pissing in my own pocket].

  

I hated “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

I’ve got something to cry about Mum – that’s why I’m crying!

I hated “If you make that face and the wind changes, your face will stay like that forever.”

What was that parenting technique even for? To discourage kids from making ugly faces? And would that mean that if, after the wind changed and made my face ugly forever, I would have the chance to make it normal again by making a happy face and waiting for the wind to change again?

I hated “Because I said so.”

That's not a reason. Just like it wasn't an answer when I replied 'because I don't want to'. I hate even more that I say it to my own kids now.

I hated “You’ll understand, when you have your own kids.”

Because, of course, I do understand.

I hated "Do you want a smack?"
Yes please Mum. A hard one please and if possible, in public.

Yep, Mum said some stupid shit when I was growing up but it turns out it didn't ruin me. And as for the good stuff? Well that turned out to be the gift that keeps on giving... and I'm now regifting to you.

Lone's Life Lessons

#1 Always wear singlets in winter. It keeps your core warm which means the blood that pumps around your body is warm. Whether that's true or not, I still wear them to this day and my boys are in them whenever it’s cool.

#2 Always dry your hair before you go to bed. Or you will get a chill or catch pneumonia. Or end up in hospital. Anyway, I forget the reason but my kids are under the hairdryer every time they get out of the shower/bath.

#3 Always have a ‘hands towel’ and a ‘dishes towel’ in the kitchen and NEVER mix them up. It's a germ transfer thing. In my house, if the tea towel is visible then it’s a ‘hands towel’. The ‘dishes towel’ is on the rack under the sink.

#4 Always wear a dressing gown on top of your pjs if you’re not in bed. There can be no sitting on the couch [that people put their feet on and their bum on and their unwashed hands on] in the same pjs that you’re going to wear to bed later. It’s dirty and gross.

#5 Always have a rice steamer. It is the only way to cook rice.

#6 Always walk into a room as if you own it, even if you’re shitting yourself.

#7 Always protect your family.

#8 Never talk when Mum's favourite song is on the radio in the car. Either sing along or shut up.

#9 Always squat over a public toilet seat so that your bum doesn’t touch it and if you can’t squat, then LINE the toilet seat with toilet paper. This will reduce the risk of catching a disease like herpes or hepatitis or AIDS or the worst possible option – worms.

#10 Always overcook the chicken. There cannot be even a tinge of pink or you will get salmonella. Or worms.

#11 Always wash your feet before going to bed. Dirty and gross.

#12 Always have good girl friends in your life. Whether you’re married or not. They are the constant.

#13 Dance. Often. Well. Alone or out on the town. Just make sure you dance.

#14 Always be clean. Even if you’re tired. Even if you’re sad. Even if you’re broke. It costs nothing to be clean.

#15 Never apologise for who you are or where you've come from.

#16 Always sort your dirty washing into light colours, dark colours and whites. Towels on their own. Bedding on its own. Tea towels on their own. And if you leave them in the washing machine for 2 days, wash them again or they will smell like old vomit.

#17 Always shake the creases out of every piece of wet washing before you hang it on the line. You need to make it ‘snap’. If you hang it, like a boy, straight from the basket it will dry crunchy.

#18 Always steam your vegetables. Well, if you want flavour that is.

#19 Always make sure the kids are fed. Well.

#20 Never let your kids know you’re scared.

#21 Always trust your instinct. It’s all you have in the world when you’re all alone so listen to it and make it your friend.

#22 Always listen to your mum [if you haven't made friends with your instinct yet] She may do and say things you hate. She may be annoying. She may be too strict. She may be unfair. She may be too tough. But she knows your heart. She knows your smell and your touch and your face. She knows what’s best even when you don’t. Especially when you don’t.

My brother and I did it tough. With only Mum to raise us we missed out on a lot. The newest gadgets. The coolest clothes. The nice house. The new car. Travel. A father. A mother. Because what happens when there’s only one parent is that parent has to spread themselves so thin that you’re really being raised by half a parent.

Yet it never felt like that. My mum did the best and most committed job she could possibly do. Which may not make her the greatest mum in the world. 

But she’s the greatest mum in my world. 

And that, is all we can ever hope our mums to be.

10 Parenting Rules – and I broke them all

Confession. 

I was one self-righteous, know-it-all bitch Before Children [BC]. It’s true. I knew it ALL. Anything wrong with a kid? It’s their mum’s fault. Sometimes their dad’s. But mainly mum... because she CHOSE the dad after all. In my, far from humble, opinion parents were entirely responsible for everything their kids did, thought, said and broke. 

And I knew WHY. Those parents didn’t FOLLOW THE RULES. There are rules in parenting that will guarantee a perfect child. Simple rules that I would often remind parents, even when they hadn’t asked, to help them. To guide them. To fix their brat.

Rules I swore to myself I would uphold. As the perfect parent embarking on raising the perfect child. *Insert wild, unhinged laughter here.

#1 - I will not use a dummy

It took me less than a week to let go of that one. Oh sweet, sweet dummy. How I loved the feel of you in my hand as I groped in the bassinet next to the bed under the blanket of darkness in the dead of the night to plug the screaming hole of my first born son. I brought a packet of them to hospital when my second son was born. I BEGGED him to take it. I tried every shape and size, even coating them in breast milk to TRICK HIM INTO SUCKING IT. Be careful what you wish you for. Turns out with number two I WAS the dummy. Take that you pious bitch.

#2 - My child will never sleep in the same bed as me

It's the second night of my life as a new mum and the midwife offers to take my screaming newborn to the nursery with all the other babies so I can get some sleep. 'Ok' I said as I watched her wheel him out of my room, ripping my heart out as she did. He was gone 15 minutes before I went to get him. This is how Mark found me when he got to the hospital in the morning. I promised myself it was just to get us through that one night.

Ahem. You know that feeling when you haven’t slept for 3 months and you’ve got up so many times in the night that you can’t remember putting the baby back to bed... where is the baby?? Did I feed him last time or just change his nappy? Did I feed on both boobs, or the same one twice? Why is he crying? Shhhhhh... rock, rock.... shhhhhhh... rock, rock.... shhhhhh rock, rock. Oh forget it, just lay next to me. THAT was how I broke rule #2 at home. And how, 8 years later, I simply just move over when I hear the sound of my 5 year old’s bare feet padding down the hall to my room in the middle of the night. He’s warm and cuddly. It gets a bit crowded when the 8 year old joins us every now and then, but I don’t turn him away either. Still feeling smug Tan?

#3 - I will not ‘pick my battles’. Every battle is worth it… and they need to learn that I’m the boss

Aahahahahahahaha. Ow, my sides are splitting. Dear BC TAN. You were an idiot. There are sooo many battles that have never been fought, won or lost here. Yes, you can wear your swim rashy on top of your jumper because it matches your rubber boots to the shop. Why not? Yes, you can take every teddy bear you own to bed because they will be sad without you tonight. Of course. No, you don’t have to eat the toast that I accidentally cut into triangles instead of squares. I understand it doesn’t taste the same. Just don’t cross me at bed time. That’s not negotiable. Most of the time.

#4 - I will not use food as currency to bribe my child

Well... what kind of values does that teach? I never understood the power of a promised [insert biscuit/yoghurt squeezy/ice-block/cupcake/smiley-face biscuit here] to ‘encourage’ a wilful kid to do just about anything really. Parenting Tip: carrying around any number of those bribes in your oversized handbag can make or break a public outing.

#5 - I will only feed my child organic, additive-free food

What?? Best intentions and all that.... My kids actually eat well. I’ve been pretty good at keeping their diet healthy. Additive-free is a stretch though and only organic? I’d have to take out a second mortgage to pull that one off. I have fed them McDonalds too. Oh the shame....

#6 - I will limit my child’s television viewing to no more than 30 mins per day

Oh don’t look at me like that. How was I to know that I would do anything to have an uninterrupted telephone conversation or cook dinner without tiny 'helping’ hands or do a poo on my own or just sit and be quiet?? And with the new ABC stations there’s ALL DAY kids shows WITHOUT COMMERCIALS. The cheapest babysitting you’ll ever find. And you get to have a perve-fest on Sportacus. Eye candy eating sports candy... hmmmmm.

#7 - I will not ‘give in’ to my child’s constant nagging for something at the supermarket cash register

Unless I’m on my own with the kids and everyone looking has a grimace/scowl/frown/look of pain or pity on their faces. Oh wait. That’s every time.

#8 - My house will always be spotless… because that’s all I have to do. Look after my child and clean my house. Easy.

Yes, I’m shaking my head in disbelief too. One time while the tv was babysitting so I could enjoy  one of my uninterrupted phone conversations, my, single, super-neat friend said to me “I spent all morning cleaning and my floors are so spotless you could eat off them” I looked around in despair and replied “You could eat off mine too... ‘cause that’s where all the fucking food is”

#9 - I will never yell at my child. Yelling is just a loss of control reserved for incapable mums

Yes. I was deluded. I yell at the tv when someone’s annoying. I yell at bad drivers on the road and cyclists who forget that they’re sharing the road with bad drivers. I yell at my mum, my sister, my brother, my husband. I yell at the PLAYROOM when it’s in a mess. I yell at weeds when I pull them out and the root breaks off and stays in the fucking ground. I yell at my cupboard if I’m out of coffee. How the hell I thought I would EVER not yell at my kids, who drive me insane, still astounds me. I yell. They look alive. I buy myself 2 minutes peace. They go back to whatever it is. It’s a loud, predictable dance.

#10 - My child will not dictate my schedule. They will fit into my life, not the other way around

Oh.. shut up.

Baby Bath

This remarkable video is doing the rounds on Facebook. It's a serene, touching and awe-inspiring movie of a newborn baby being bathed.




Isn't it amazing?

Now here is a photo of my son's first bath.

My husband is proudly doing it. That's me, sitting next to the wash area. With hair pasted to my head and furry teeth in a hospital gown and a pad the size of a cot mattress. I'm in a wheelchair because I can't stand up which, surprisingly, has nothing to do with the mattress between my legs. My legs are just unable to hold me up. My body is still in shock from the ridiculously fast labour. So I'm feigning a smile. There's no soothing music or beautiful baby massages or water running gently over my baby's head. There is a very wriggly and soon to be screaming newborn with an outstanding startle reflex that will scare the shit out of his Dad about 2 minutes after this shot was taken.

I wish I'd taken a video of that.

In a minute

I went back to work today after two weeks home with the family for the holidays. On the quiet, blissful drive into the city, I thought about all the things I was sick of saying and sick of hearing. I can write about it calmly and with perspective because I'm alone at the moment. 

I have no need to repeat myself. Again. And again. 

There is no need to raise my voice or stamp my foot or slam my open palm on the kitchen bench yelling 'that's enough!' 

I have no urge to mutter 'for fuck's sake' through my clenched teeth while breathing in long, slow and deep breaths. 

I am not hiding behind the locked bathroom door to escape the madness for a couple of minutes and I am not glaring at my husband's back as he is doing something so important on his iPhone/iPad/iMac/iSuck that he seems not to hear the madness.

Lalalalalala... I may open a bottle of wine and raise my glass to the silence.


Top 10 most repeated things I've said this summer so far:

"In a minute"

"You have 5 more minutes"

"Sit properly at the table"

"Don't hit your brother"

"No"

"Brush your teeth"

"One... two.... " [I don't often get to three but when I do...]

"Now with your manners"

"Shut the back door"

"Wash your hands"


Top 10 most repeated things I've heard this summer so far:

"I'm bored"

"What can we do now?"

"No"

"Why not?"

"You promised!"

"It's not fair"

"Can we go to...?"

"When?"

"Mum"

"He hit me!"


I plan to say more of:

"Ask your father"

"Yes"

"Have fun"

"See you when I get back"

What about you? What are you sick to death of saying??

While you were sleeping

Dear Nathan and Stefan,

So much of my life as your mum goes unseen by you, as it should be but, did you know...

Before I put your clothes in the washing machine I check the pockets. I love the treasures I find in there and line them up in the laundry. Sometimes I find money and I steal it back from you.

When I check on you before I go to bed, I tidy up your covers and push the hair away from your brow and kiss your warm face. 

Sometimes I stand outside your bedroom door and listen to you two talk at night before you go to sleep. The sound of you laughing always makes me smile.

When you're upset and I open my arms for you to come for a cuddle, it's because I need it, not you.

I look at you sometimes and see me.

I remember the feel of your milky baby breath on my face and it makes me cry just a little bit.

When you come bursting in through the back door from playing outside screaming and bleeding and I pick you up and say to calm down, everything's going to be ok - I'm talking to my own panicked heart.

My heart nearly bursts out of my chest when I watch you in assembly and play sport and interact with your mates.

I have spent your whole life watching the expressions on your face and that's how I know when something has happened at school, or someone has upset you or something is on your mind without you saying a word.

I keep your notes to Father Christmas.

I have great expectations of you because I can see your enormous capacity to achieve. To succeed. To love and be loved. I will be your most staunch supporter and harshest critic forever.

Sometimes I look at you and I see my dad and that makes me happy. And sad.

You know how I get very mad at you when you argue back and are disprespectful to me? Well, one day I will tell you that I am proud that you know your own mind already and you have the balls and ability to stand up to me. One day.

Seeing you two hang out together as brothers and friends makes me feel good about the choices I've made.

At night, when you're asleep, your dad and I talk about you. We discuss your behaviour that day and what you've got on that week and what we can do together for fun and what lessons we can teach you and how we can be the best parents possible. Sometimes we fight but it's always for the same outcome. You and us as a family.

I brag about you on Facebook.

Your bodies amaze me. I watch them grow strong and see the muscles develop under your brown skin and I can already see the men you're going to be. I know my days of wrapping a towel around you and drying you off after a shower are numbered and that makes me anxious that I'm running out of time.

People will tell you that your mum is your first love but what you may never know is that you two are the greatest loves I have ever known and I will never love anyone or anything as purely as I do you. Until I take my last breath.

Love Mum xx

This is a true story

I have not cooked my family dinner tonight. I have also not made any other arrangements. I am on family strike.

I'm tired and I'm premenstrual and I worked today. Nothing too stressful and during school hours but it was work nonetheless. I then dropped into a couple of shops on the way home to make arrangements for my HUSBAND'S business Christmas dinner that I am organising. In my spare time. I came home and returned a few emails, made a couple of calls, emptied the dishwasher and then I picked up the kids from school.

And that's when it all went to hell.

"I don't want to go to school tomorrow Mum. I'm too tired"
"Why can't I go on the iPad?"
"It's not fair"
"I don't want to watch THAT I want to watch THIS"
"I don't have ANY homework"
"I have to go on YouTube for my homework"
"I don't want an apple, I want chocolate"
"If he's having chocolate, I want chocolate too."
"I'm not eating dinner"
"You never listen to me"
"I don't want to change out of my uniform"
"I'm not turning the tv down. I can't hear it"
"I don't have to empty out my school bag. You can do it"

All these things were said to me this afternoon. Said with attitude. Lots of school boy attitude. In response to my requests. Cajoles. Demands. Threats.

And then something clicked. 

Remember Sheriff Rambo Harry Down? Well, she just poured herself a big glass of wine and rode into town. Yes, drinking and riding. She's that bad-ass.

"Is that right? Well how about this. You can do whatever you want. I have nothing more to say to you tonight. You can eat what you want. You can do what you want. You both seem to think that you know best. Well let's give that a go."

And I have not said a word to them since. I did not respond when they repeatedly chanted they were going to watch the verboten Harry Potter II. I did not flinch when they ran to the iPad to download whatever it is they covet. I didn't bat an eyelid when they opened a packet of chips for dinner.

Because Mum is on strike and the Sheriff is sitting in the corner, drinking her wine and whistling.

Spring Clean Your Life...

So I have this friend who's a coach. Not a sports coach. A LIFE COACH. Really. She coaches you through your life. Do I sound skeptical? I don't mean to be, but it does sound bizarre doesn't it? 

For those of you who are not yet aware of what life coaching is all about, it's about partnering with someone whose job is to improve the quality of your life, by guiding you through professional and personal matters, such as career, health, personal relationships, etc. It's like your best friend, mum and guidance counselor all in one room... but far less intrusive.

Tania runs Blue Sky Coaching. I like the inference. I like blue skies. They're my favourite sky, in fact. She has a diverse range of clients and starts her coaching with each of them by giving them a personal checklist when they begin. At a recent networking function, she showed us all this check list and suggested we use it at as a spring board to spring clean our lives... y'know being spring and all. This list was broken up into ten true or false statements each in the following subjects:

• work
• finances
• home environment
• health & body
• relationships
• personal

It was one of the quieter functions I have been to as we all read through our lists. There were lots of obvious statements like "I manage my time well", "I have a budget that I use" and "My personal files are in order". Answer 'false' and guess what? Yep, that indicates you need help in that area. Then there was a quiet buzz in the room as we questioned some of the more obscure statements and their relevance to the checklist and our own lives. I found the answers interesting and thought you may find them helpful.

I have had a birthday party in the last two years.

This is an indicator of you acknowledging and celebrating your life. It speaks to your inner happiness and affirmation that you are valuable.

I don't lie or exaggerate.

This is about not feeling good enough and your need to ‘embellish’ to make your life sound like it’s exciting/interesting/worth talking about. But let's face it, that's what Facebook is for.

My bed is always properly made.

This one was interesting to me. Tania says it's about having one more thing 'not done' which could be a very easy fix. It refers to visual clutter. I have to admit that on the days that I have time to make my bed before I leave for work, I feel more in control. Crazy but true.

My bed supports me having a good sleep.

Another bed statement that puzzled me. What difference should this make? Tania explained that this was about taking care of yourself. We spend a lot of time in bed and if it's crappy then our sleep is crappy then we feel crappy so our day is crappy and so it goes on. If your answer is false, get yourself down to Dreamland pronto.

I am happy with my current weight.

Tania says almost every client she has ever worked with ticks false. No real surprises there but it's a sad indictment of our society's self image today. 

Other statements she almost always gets a 'false' for are

I have enough confidence to do what I want in life.
[people tend to underestimate how great they are]

I am comfortable saying no when I need to. 
[that's why so many people are so busy]

I don't acquire clutter. 
[when people are surrounded by clutter it makes it hard to have clarity. They are distracted by stuff]

Tania filled a similar checklist out herself when she first heard about life coaching. She says it was a wake-up call that she deserved to feel better about her life.

For me this whole year has been a wake-up call that I deserve to feel better about my life. Something about the babies leaving home and turning 40 turned a new page for me so that I had already begun my spring clean before I even knew of this list. 

I had a HUGE birthday party. I bought myself a new, gorgeous bed. I'm VERY happy to say no. I've got no idea what my current weight is because I don't believe in weighing myself and we therefore do not own scales. I've just got to get rid of the clutter...

You deserve to feel better about your life too. 

Don't underestimate how great you are xx

NB - this post is in no way sponsored. Tania and Blue Sky Coaching did not ask me to write it. I was just inspired :)

Confessions of a grown-up...

I love being 40. LOVE IT. I think it's wonderful and I've never had an issue with turning another year older. Just lately though, I've noticed a real shift in my thinking. In my attitude. In my perspective and I realised... I'm not a kid anymore.

Here are twenty things that firmly plant me in the middle aged garden. Can you relate to any of these??

1. I can't be bothered. I really can't be bothered with anything that is inane. This includes people, children, conversations, television programmes and food.

2. Comfort trumps fashion. Ditto warmth.

3. Random sunny, winter days = washing. If another, non-middle-aged friend invites me out on one of these days, I will only meet them AFTER I have done at least two loads... or else it would be a waste of a perfect washing opportunity.

4. Dinner time is 6pm. If I am invited out for a dinner booking anytime from 7pm on - I eat first.

5. I get annoyed if the phone rings after 9pm at night for any other reason than an emergency.

6. I hate the music that teenagers are listening to today... and like to remind them that I am from the era that INVENTED dance music.

7. I ask my 7 year old how to record something on the hard drive.

8. I like spending time with my Mum.

9. I don't understand why young girls want to dress like tarts... and I think they look like tarts... and I use the word 'tarts'

10. I call anyone under the age of 30, 'twelve'.

11. I like going to bed early. I relish it. I particularly like it when there are fresh sheets on that bed and I'm alone with a book. If the book is good enough, that could be a perfect Saturday night for me.

12. I'm happy to say no. To anything. Particularly if it falls into the category of point number 1.

13. I am no longer recruiting for friends, so I have no need to impress anyone that's unimportant to me.

14. My make-up routine involves more than lipgloss and mascara... and I have bought a foundation that makes my skin look younger.

15. My social calendar is full of 40ths, 50ths and funerals.

16. If I still haven't achieved anything by 10am I feel as though I've wasted half the day.

17. I usually achieve a lot by 10am!

18. I buy scented candles and burn them whenever I want... not just when I'm expecting visitors.

19. I listen to Mix 102.3 and I know all the songs.

20. I like me. I no longer want to change me or wish I was someone else. I like the way I look and I like the way I feel. I'm particularly happy with the knowledge that I would be a deadset hornbag if I went to the gym and the only reason I'm not a deadset hornbag is because the gym is inane and well.. refer to point number 1 again.

An open letter to the new reception teacher in my life...

Dear Reception Teacher,

Today I hand over to you, my second son. My 4 year old baby. The one that will leave my proverbial nest ‘empty’. The more affectionate of my two… and the more difficult.

Here’s 10 things you should know about my boy… and that I apologise for.

1. He eats ALL THE TIME. Lots of snacks while he’s playing, or colouring, or watching a movie or playing in the garden. I don’t know how he’s going to cope with dedicated times in which he is allowed to eat. I forgot to teach him that, sorry.
2. He’s tactile. He loves to touch and stroke and cuddle. He chooses his own clothes by how nice the fabric feels on his skin first, and how cool they look second. If he feels sad, he will reach out for a hug. I forgot to help him not need that, sorry.
3. He’s the baby of our family and he’s not happy with that position in life. His goal everyday is to prove to everyone that he is as big and capable as his older brother and sometimes he struggles with the reality of that. I forgot to tell him to toughen up, sorry.
4. He’s emotional. He wears his heart on his sleeve and his temper is quick and furious. He can go from saint to terrorist in 2 seconds flat and I forgot to train him out of that, sorry.
5. Sometimes he has trouble wiping his own bum. Sorry.
6. He’s a talker. Day and night. While he sleeps. While he eats. When you are trying to concentrate on something else. During a movie. Underwater. And especially while you’re on the phone. I forgot to teach him to shut up, sorry.
7. He has his own mind and he follows the beat of his own drum, which is often a very different beat to anyone else’s. I forgot to teach him to conform, sorry.
8. He’s not into sports. He likes karate. He likes drawing. He likes to play dress-ups and build imaginary forts. He loves to sing really loud. He doesn’t like to sit still. He doesn’t like to be quiet. He wants to do everything himself. I forgot to teach him to fit in, sorry.
9. He wants to be a dad when he grows up. I forgot to teach him to aspire to great things, sorry.
10. He will take a special place in your heart forever. Sorry.

Family Holiday and other oxymorons

So I’m facing the last night of our winter family holiday and I’m knackered. We’re staying at a great place in Port Victoria with friends and our 9 year old God daughter. That’s 3 kids under 9. Are we having fun yet? The house is newish, big and kid-friendly – a bit like us.

Getting ready for a family holiday begins with food shopping. Hundreds of dollars worth of goodies that will feed us all for a week and will travel well and that need to be bought at the last minute for freshness. Next is packing for me and the kids. Holiday gear, pjs, dressing gowns, slippers, jocks, socks, activities, books to read, playdough, textas, colouring books and stuff for the kids too. Then there’s the bath towels, tea towels, hand towels, sheets, pillowcases, quilt covers. Now we pack the car and by ‘we’ I mean ‘me’. Think tetris. But before I pack the car, I need to make sure the house is in a reasonable state to return to. This involves making three beds, washing the dishes, doing two loads of washing to dry while we’re away, turning off all the power points, emptying out the fridge, putting the rubbish out, closing all the curtains and checking that I’ve turned off all the power points. Twice. All while the boys are asking, repeatedly, ‘is is time to go yet?’.  A three hour drive later and we arrive at the gorgeous [really it is] holiday house. And what do I do next? I make three beds, unpack the groceries, open all the curtains, turn on all the power points, unpack the clothes and make afternoon tea. Then we ‘relax’ for an hour or so before I make dinner, clean up after dinner, bath the boys, get them to bed and have a spot of ‘wine’ down time myself before getting into my own bed at the special holiday time of 9.30pm. That’s day 1. Since then I have done 3 loads of washing, local grocery shopping, made breakfast, lunch and dinner, swept the floors, made the beds, picked up the wet towels off the floor, yelled at the kids to stop yelling, washed 450 glasses and broken up at least dozen squabbles over who's turn it is to pick the kids' movie of the day. 

It feels so good to get away from it all.

We’ve had fun. The boys have fished and crabbed and caught squid and eaten what they’ve caught. There’s been beach-side walks in the freezing cold and kite flying and the boys even ditched the training wheels on their bikes for the first time this week. Trips to the playground, table-soccer tournaments, a visit to the old lolly shoppe and home-made Barnacle Bills seafood feasts. Lots of wine for the grownups and real coffee twice a day thanks to the in-house coffee machine. It’s been a good trip away.

But… when you’re a full-time, stay-at-home mum there is no such thing as a family holiday. When your daily job is to look after your house and family, then simply changing houses is not my idea of a vacation. For me, a holiday involves crisp white sheets on beds made by someone else. A sun bed by a pool, somewhere warm where I can spend time with my kids while someone else makes us lunch. In house movies on a flat screen tv that I can watch from my bed, that I didn’t have to make. Room service. A cheeky lunch-time glass of wine. Lazy mornings on the beach playing in the sand with my boys. No chores. No washing. No packing up the house. Bathers, sarongs, thongs and a couple of novels. That’s a holiday. Throw in a girlfriend or two and subtract the husband and kids and it may even be the perfect holiday.

Family Holiday is one of my top oxymorons. Right up there with Fun Run.

My last day of kindy

Stefan had his last day at kindy yesterday. It was both an exhilarating and sad day for me. I have always said that I love watching my babies grow. I love every new stage in their development and lives. I love the people they are becoming, so I am not really sad when they reach their milestones [as many other mums are with their babies]. I’m excited and proud. In fact I have been so excited about Stefan finishing kindy and embarking on his school career that I was taken aback when I found myself feeling quite sentimental about his last day. I wrote in a card to his teacher to thank her and it made me cry… just a little bit. Because it’s not just Stefan’s last day at kindy, but mine too. As I walked him out after his farewell presentation, it struck me that I would not return to this amazing place. This world of wonder and discovery and friendships and nurture. This world that helped shape my two boys.

There is a quote by Carl Jung on teachers that sums up how I feel, which I wrote in my card:

"An understanding heart is everything in a teacher, and cannot be esteemed highly enough. One looks back with appreciation to the brilliant teachers, but with gratitude to those who touched our human feeling. The curriculum is so much necessary raw material, but warmth is the vital element for the growing plant and for the soul of the child."

I’m fussy about where my kids spend their time and who they spend it with. I am fortunate that my personal circumstances have allowed me to spend their formative years with them as a full-time, stay at home mum and I am grateful that I have not been forced to put them into childcare due to financial and/or marital struggles. I know there are lots of mums who have also chosen childcare for their kids and that’s ok with me too. It’s just not the way I roll. So, other than a brief stint at Montessori, the teachers at kindy were the first non-family people that I have entrusted my sons to… which was a bit difficult. When young children are left with other people they learn, not only what they are taught, but what they observe. What they hear. What they absorb from those people and from that environment. So I’m fussy about the environments that I leave my kids in and I will forever be thankful for our kindy experience.

Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, my sons adjusted immediately to their new environment. Their friendships with other children there were observed and encouraged so that Nathan’s closest friends 3 years later are the ones he met at kindy. These relationships were considered so important that they make up part of their kindy ‘report card’. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I learned that Stefan leads with his left leg when he hops and that he enjoys all ball sports. The fact that he is ‘fit and agile’ is as important on his report as his ‘ability to write his own name’ and ‘precise cutting with scissors’.  They let him know that everything he learns is important – not just the academic stuff. 

Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, Stefan knows that it’s ok to choose an activity less popular than the majority vote and is congratulated for his independent thinking. So he feels confident to stand apart from the crowd. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I felt supported in my decision to allow Nathan to start school earlier than he should have, based on their insight into his academic and emotional maturity that I would not have learned about him so quickly. Because of the amazing teachers at kindy, I have learned that, even away from mum’s watchful eye, my sons are kind, respectful, funny, confident, smart, creative, fit, capable and ready for what the world has in store in them.

I take my job as a mum seriously and I have the greatest respect for the teachers at kindy who do too. I take my hat off to everyone who touched my children’s hearts during the beginning of their educational journey. 

I couldn’t have prepared them better myself.

Let's get this straight...

5 things I won’t do as a Mum




ONE

I will not eat off my kids’ fork/spoon/finger. It makes me sick. They lie about washing their hands and when they do it means waving their disease covered fingers under a cold running tap. I’m surprised they’re not riddled with worms… but just in case they are – I don’t want to eat off their fork.

TWO

I will not let them win games. I don’t like bad sports so I don’t want to raise any.

THREE

I will not buy them alcohol when they are underage and I will not let them have sex under my roof under the guise of ‘at least I know where they’re doing it’. I know where they’ll do it, without having to condone it. They’ll lie their way into bars and have sex in the back seat of cars. Like their parents did.

FOUR

I will not let them believe they are owed anything in this world, without earning it first.

FIVE

I will never give them any reason to think that I don’t love them. Ever.