Have you ever loved anyone who is depressed?

I’ve been thinking about suicide a lot lately. Deep, ponderings about suffering. Questioning my own deep seated belief that to take your own life is selfish and weak.

First things first... I’m not suicidal. Not in the slightest. I have always told myself it’s because I’m not selfish. Or weak. I’ve spent time in some very dark places in my years but I always pull through. Because – strong. But I’ve challenged those thoughts recently and I’ve surprised myself.

My father-in-law died a horrible cancerous death four years ago. A tumour was discovered in his sinus. Mucosal melanoma. The oncologist told him his best chance was to remove it and all that surrounded it... which was half his face. This may give him some more time. More time than the 80 years he had already lived. He was scared to do it and spent many hours deliberating. Discussing with his loved ones. With his family who all urged him to do it. “You HAVE to fight” was the message he got loud and clear. “Don’t let this beat you”. And so, bravely, he decided to go through with the procedure. He did fight. He fought hard. But he confided in me, not long before he passed that he wished he had never done it. Because it did beat him and it did not buy him time and we buried him with half his face missing.

When he died, like the countless others that I know who died at the hands of a debilitating disease, the people he left behind [us] were relieved. “Thank goodness his suffering is finally over” “He fought so hard but the pain was just too much for him” “He was so brave”.

Far too many of us have watched someone we love suffer intensely before dying. We watch disease ravage them. We watch them change before our eyes. We remember brighter days when they weren’t sick. When we could laugh together and have fun. When their body was fit and healthy. When all hopes and thoughts of the future included them. We watch them waste away before us as their illness takes hold. As their appetite wanes and their ability to put on a brave face become less frequent. We watch as the light dulls in their eyes from medication to help them ease the aching. We watch and we wait and we empathise because we can’t even imagine the hell they must be living in. Many of us sit by their bedside and hold their hands and give comfort as we assure them that we will be ok without them. That they can go. That they can give up the fight. It’s ok, we say. You have been so strong and so brave to hang on so long. It’s ok, we say.

But what if their disease is not physical? What if their illness is mental? What if the excruciating pain they are feeling is all in their head? Are they not brave too? Is their pain less worthy? Is their yearning for it to end really so selfish? Do they not deserve dignity too? Why do we urge our loved ones who suffer from physical pain to let go yet demand the ones that suffer from emotional pain to hang on?

Have you ever loved anyone who is depressed? And I’m not talking some bullshit down in the dumps or in a slump or a bit flat or sad. I mean bona fide, clinically depressed. Someone who is actually unable to function for weeks, months and even years on end. Someone whose emotional pain is so intense they are unable to maintain a relationship of any kind so that they are deeply alone and overwhelmingly lonely. Have you ever loved someone who is so devastated that they choose to physically harm themselves as a distraction to their internal suffering? Have you ever watched someone waste away before your very eyes and pull away from you so profoundly and have absolutely no way to help them? Have you ever watched someone you love self-medicate and seemingly prefer to choose poison over their relationship with you? Have you ever looked at someone you love, survive a suicide attempt and think “you’re so selfish” or “you’re so weak” or “you’re just doing this for attention”? Have you ever said to someone you love, who can’t seem to get their shit together who tells you they’re suffering and tries to explain the depth of that suffering to “snap out of it”?

As though they have a choice.

I know I’m only one generation shy of “there’s no such thing as mental illness”. I was brought up on “snap out of it” and “toughen up” and “there’s nothing wrong with you, you just need to work harder”. Will our next generation ‘get it’? Will my kids grow up understanding all the different pains in the world? Will their empathy extend to those whose suffering they don’t even understand?

Should it?

I think [hope] most of us are well intentioned. That our insistence that those we love who suffer from depression try harder is because we believe that’s all it takes. Because those of us who are healthy of mind can, actually, talk ourselves out of [and into] all sorts of moods and mindsets. I hope it is our naivety that fills us with the belief that all our suffering loved ones need is more company/stimulation/money/love to drag them out of their slump. I hope we are simply well-intentioned and naive because if we are not, then it is US who are selfish. It is US who are weak. It is US who need to snap out of it.

My truth is, I believe the fight is worth it for everyone. I believe life is worth it. I believe that if you have any fight in you then you should use it to war against any disease you have – physical or mental. I also believe that wars aren’t won without an army. In my family, when that bastard cancer is diagnosed [far too many times] we all suit up and stand strong as we face the enemy. We know that enemy well. We understand it and we hate it. So we fight. Together. Until the end. Because cancer is ok to have at the dinner table. It’s ok to have cancer at Christmas lunch. It’s sad, and sometimes confronting, but it’s there and we accept it – like an uninvited, estranged relative.

Depression, however, is not welcome at lunch. Or dinner. Or at picnics. Or even for coffee. Deep-seated, I’d-rather-be-dead-than-face-another-day depression is not welcome. It’s uncomfortable. It is not understood. It is not discussed. It is verboten. It is not real.

And so I ask you.

How can anyone possibly amass an army against an enemy that does not exist? 

And how can we possibly look our suffering loved one/s in the eye and ask them to stay without first trying to understand the pain that makes them want to leave?

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?

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?

ding, ding, ding....

"MUM!!!!!!! He hit me!!"

"MUM!!!!!!! He's annoying me!!"

"MUM!!!!!!! I'm bored!!"

"MUM!!!!!!! [insert some other infuriating comment here]

So... what DO you do when after 4 days of school holidays your kids want to kill each other and you're sick of breaking up the fights??

You HELP them :)

Forty minutes of slogging it out together and they're best mates again.

Now they are sitting together on the couch sharing a bowl of popcorn and watching ABC3.

That's a weird 'bloke thing', right?

Mummy Tantrum

Do you know what sucks? 

How, once you have kids, someone's priorities come second. Sometimes it's Mum's. Sometimes it's Dad's. It doesn't really matter - it's always someone's. And in our house, it sucks, 'cause it's MY priorities that take the back seat. Like my life isn't as important as anyone else's. My goals aren't as pressing and my needs aren't as necessary. And though I don't want to seem petulant, I just feel like stamping my feet and yelling "I'm important too!" 

Yes, I chose to take time away from my career to raise our kids. Yes, I'm happy I did and I'd do it again. Yes, I know someone has to be the bread winner and at the moment I'm not winning any more than a few slices but for fuck's sake, I want to start bringing loaves home again. Except I can't because I'm the family 'go to'. I'm the one that needs to drop everything when the shit hits the fan. 

Even when it's not my fan. Or my shit.

It's 11.45pm and my eyes are hanging out of my head but it's the only quiet I've had all day to just sit and write. Which is one of MY needs that isn't as necessary as everyone else's. I couldn't when the kids were at school because I had to work and deal with some family 'shit'. I couldn't after I picked the kids up because I had to get them ready for soccer because Dad got held up at his far-more-important-job so couldn't make it home in time. I couldn't when we got home because I had to cook dinner. I couldn't after dinner because I had to finalise a year 3 homework project with a nearly 8 year old. 

I know I should be in bed. Catching on the sleep deficit I've been living with for, I don't know, eight years now. I know I should be resting but my rest isn't as important as everyone else's. Everyone else is asleep. In the beds that I keep clean with a full tummy of the dinner I cooked. 

I didn't do the bath and bedtime routine though. I was lucky tonight. I ASKED for some TIME OFF so I could get some of my stuff done. And it was granted. 

Lucky I tell ya.

Dear Chrissie, I have a confession too...

I'm addicted to judging.

Your raw, live confession of your inability to give up smoking while you're pregnant did not shame YOU. 

It shamed ME.

Let's get some things out of the way. 

I'm not a smoker. I completely and utterly detest smoking. I do not and did not allow smoking in my house or my car even when smoking was the cool thing to do. I am anti cigarette advertising. I don't believe people should smoke in the vicinity of non-smokers. I don't believe people should smoke in the vicinity of children. I don't believe women should smoke when they're pregnant. Not even 'just a couple' to get them through.

My view remains unchanged.

But here's the thing. I have always KNOWN smoking is an addiction. An illness. I have always KNOWN this unrefutable and logical fact. Many people in my family were smokers. My own father died very young of throat cancer from the smokes. So I have had a lot of exposure to the mental illness that drives addiction. I understand it and will happily tout my opinions intellectually around a dinner table. You would think that understanding addiction so well and campaigning for the fair treatment of addicts would manifest itself as compassion.

You would think.

Yet, it seems, that I am only compassionate in theory. I have seen many pregnant women smoking. It would anger me. It would disgust me. I would feel compelled to make eye contact with that woman and scowl as I shook my head at her grossly irresponsible and SELFISH behaviour. I would think horrible things about that woman. I would judge her as uneducated, poor, rough, undeserving, disgusting and negligent. Never would I consider how impossible it is for some people, even pregnant women, especially pregnant women, to stop an addiction dead in its tracks. I would feel only contempt for her. Never compassion. Ever.

I'm proud of you and inspired by your courage. It is true, you only came clean once you knew you would be 'outed'. Your confession was born of shame and fear of your deceit being discovered. It's still courageous to be honest though, regardless of all that. It is also true, that as a public figure there is always the risk of being snapped doing something you wish people would not ever know about you. You still have a right to choose what you share and don't share though. 

I've been reading lots of online discussions from people on either side of the fence. Many defending you but so many condemning you. I'm not on either side of the fence. I feel like I'm impaled ON it. I'm sorry you are imprisoned so surely by your addiction that you would justify risking harm to your unborn baby. I'm sorry that I am one of millions of women who have made it seem impossible for you to ask for help. 

I'm happy that you have been forced to 'come clean'. As you have learned, that is always the hardest step to make. So many have said things along the lines of 'would you care if it was someone not so famous or well loved?' The answer is 'NO' and that is the point. What better way to be an influential public figure than to share your own pain to teach us all a lesson in compassion? We do love you. We do relate to you. To hear a woman we know, love, relate to and respect share such heartache and shame is very confronting. You're not a slapper bogan living on the dole with 3 kids from 3 different men with a burnt out car in your front yard and hydroponics in your roof. [see what I did there???] Your confession is shocking to us.Your confession gives us perspective. Your confession is catalystic.

I'm embarrassed that I have been such an arsehole but I'm grateful to you for pointing that out to me.

I'm going to try to kick that habit too.

Love and strength to you Chrissie,

Tan xx

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.

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??

Happy New Year - 12 lessons from 2012

I love a new year. I love saying goodbye to the old and looking forward to the new. I love that everyone gets all sentimental and grateful and earnest. I love that people are resolute in their good intentions, that are almost always broken, and that young and old alike celebrate side by side.

It's a great time to reflect. It's a proverbial line in the sand for us to stop at. To get on our marks. To go. Travel down a new road. Take a new path. Start a new race.

In fact, the whole of last year was a line in the sand for me. My 40th year. It was a great year of discovery and celebration and an expanding girth. It was also a significant year of learning. 

Here are 12 unexpected things I learned in 2012.

1. Blondes don't have any more fun than brunettes... but the greys are much less noticeable!

2. Throwing a surprise birthday party for someone you love is EXTREMELY stressful but may well be even more special for the host than the guest of honour. I hosted two and the joy they both brought me was unimaginable.

3. Making a conscious and public effort at being grateful was easier than I thought and actually filled my heart with light.

4. My 7 year old is a 'stand up and notice' kind of awesome soccer player AND has courage enough to face his fears to perform on stage for the school production.

5. There are still far too many moronic Americans who believe in a 'right to bear arms' and I have been ASTOUNDED at some of the ridiculous arguments I have read in the case to support that lunacy.

6. Returning to paid work after a long time at home is a tough adjustment and I will certainly be doing my best to support any friends taking that journey.

7. The definition of a wolf in sheep's clothing... as discovered by too many women in my life.

8. My 5 year old has such strong and unexpected willpower. Last year he made the decision to swim without floaties and to give up night nappies and to ditch the training wheels on his bike. He did it himself and they each took only days to accomplish. Certainly makes my job easier.

9. It's really easy to make jam!

10. Celebrating your own milestone birthday in grand and lavish style is an absolute must at least once in your lifetime.

11. Bridesmaids. Best chick flick. Ever.

12. I am a story teller and some of my stories, are your stories too.

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

Attitude of Gratitude

So, on the first day of December this year I committed to having an attitude of gratitude for a month which I would share with my Facebook friends each day. I didn't come up with the idea myself. I was inspired by The Mums Lounge "Attitude of Gratitude Photo Challenge" because I have been feeling more grateful lately and because, to be quite frank, I like that it rhymed.

I started off slow. A quick photo and something small in my day that I was thankful for. But, as all good things do, it gathered a momentum of its own and my thankfulness became more significant. 

My attitude actually changed. 

The commitment I made to having to stop each day and think of something to be grateful for, during a very busy time of the year, became my calm. I discovered that I have so much to be grateful for and that I have fallen into the well-known trap of taking my good fortune for granted. This month has reminded me to be extremely grateful for my journey in life. For the lessons I've learned. For the losses. For the gifts. For the growth. For the pain and for the joy. It's EASY to get caught up in the rat-race of life, particularly at Christmas time. It's soooo busy and everyone seems to want a piece of you and I have MANY times spent almost the entire month complaining. But this year, not so much. This year when I have caught myself whingeing about.... whatever, I have stopped and said 'Lucky you Tan, that there is space in your mind for such a silly complaint'. 'Lucky you that you do not live in fear. Lucky you that you do not live in pain. Lucky you that you do not live with loneliness. Lucky you that you do not live in darkness. Lucky you that you do not live in silence. Lucky you, Tan.'

I had planned to post something to be grateful for every day of December, but I stopped a couple of days ago. Not on purpose. I was running out of hours in my days and telling everyone how grateful I am was the first casualty of tasks I didn't have time for. I have still stopped every day though. Stopped and thought and felt lighter. And now, in the quiet aftermath of a marathon family Christmas lunch, I have stopped to think about what I am thankful for. And of course, on days like today, there is so much. Family. Love. Tradition. Giving. Eating. Playing. Fun. Togetherness. Sharing. It's almost a no-brainer but I have something more [yes more!] to be thankful for.

Attitude of Gratitude - Days 21-25 (!)

I am grateful for my friends who came along for the ride with me. All of my friends but especially the friends who are otherwise quiet on Facebook but have showed their support by 'liking' my post. It kept me honest. When I realised how many people were listening, it encouraged me to actually say something.

I am grateful for the friends [who I do not 'see' socially but with whom I share my Facebook life] that took the time to comment on my posts. Friends like Di, Riannon, Crawford, Monique, Josie, Mia and Mandy. When I realised how many people were touched, it encouraged me to dig deeper.

I am grateful for the friends who made a special effort to tell me how my Attitude of Gratitude posts had inspired them. Friends like Alischa, Isabelle, Kalyna and Isabella. When I realised how many people were inspired, it encouraged me to share more of myself.

I am grateful for my friend Polly who took my proverbial hand and travelled down the road of gratitude with me. When I realised I was not alone, it encouraged me to stay on the road.

I am grateful.

10 CHEAP, screen-free things to do at home these holidays

Many of you would now know that I'm not a fan of kids sitting in front of a screen, of any sort, for any great lengths of time. I'm not entirely anti-screen and my kids actually start most of their days watching some tv or playing on the computer. And, for their own survival, I have many times dumped them in front of a movie or two in the middle of the day so that I can quietly rock in the corner with a glass of wine. I am committed to limiting their screen time though and so have a number of activities at hand in the holidays to help keep them occupied when the screens are off. I find it easier to have an arsenal ready to fire at them when I am under attack from the "I'm bored!" cannon.


Get Ballsy
Pick a ball, any ball, and send them outside to play with it. Play soccer, football, netball, basketball, handball, lawn bowls, totem tennis, ten pin bowling in your driveway or marbles. There's something for every kid to do with a ball. If it's just you and your little one, get out there with them. 

DIY Christmas Tree
We do this one every year and it takes up lots of time. Tick!
1. Search for appropriate 'trees'. We live in a suburb with mature street trees so we often find these on our footpath but if you have a nearby park, why not go for a walk and see what you can find. The boys have become quite picky and know the best options are ones with lots of branches.
2. Paint your tree. I have a whole selection of bright coloured tubes of paint that I've accumulated from Cheap as Chips over the years. They're about $2 per tube and I recommend having a few in your 'craft box' all the time. This year the boys have chosen orange and gold as their colours.

3. Make the decorations. I save the fronts of each year's Christmas cards that the kids cut out the pictures of to put on their trees. We also make garlands out of left over wrapping paper which I measure and rule up and the boys cut 
them out and put them together.

4. Make a tree stand. I have a collection of old bottles which the boys fill up with sand [to weigh it down] and voila - perfect tree stand. Sometimes they decorate these too with ribbon etc. Depends on their mood.


Mini-chefs
Kill two birds with one stone here... lunch/snacks AND an activity. One time you could make your own pizzas. Have your kids help you set out the ingredients. We've done this many times now so the boys know that we use a packet of mini-pitta breads, a couple of pizza sauce sachets, a bowl of grated mozzarella, ham, salami and capsicum. Pop them in a pre-heated oven and you're done. We also like to do cupcakes together, gingerbread people/aliens and plain old cheese and fruit platter that the boys wash and cut up themselves. 


DIY Christmas decorations
I love this activity. It's quiet. It takes ages. It's extremely cheap. It's excellent for fine motor skills.
1. Get yourself to IKEA and pick up a tub of their coloured plastic beads and a set of their bead plates [the whole lot will cost you less than $15].
2. Think up some nice 'Christmasy' designs and help your little ones by starting the pattern for them.
3. Sit back and have a coffee while they finish off their decorations.

Colouring Pages
This may seem like an obvious one but you'd be surprised how many people forget to bring this one out [especially for boys] I like to get new stock [including books and textas/crayons] at the beginning of every holiday which my boys really appreciate too. We choose the pages they want to do together and I find that if I'm part of the selection process etc, they're far more interested in doing it than if I just set them on their way.

Art School
My kids LOVE this one and we have been doing it from a very young age. Get yourself some large format paper. If you're really stuck, grab a roll of paper from Ikea and cut into suitable lengths. Squirt some of those bright paints I mentioned earlier onto plastic plates and lay out a couple of brushes and some jars of water to rinse with. Our favourite way to do this is to peg up a whole lot of sheets along the fence, but it would be just as much fun on an easel or laid out on the ground or table. I like to give them topics to paint to help stimulate their creative juices. If they're really little you could paint their hands and feet and get them to stamp the paper to make some gorgeous keepsakes.

Waterbomb wars
A packet of these rippers cost about $3. Fill them up, but not too much otherwise they burst too easily and the game's over in no time. I then send the boys outside with a big basket of them of each and the rules are that they are allowed to throw them at each others' FEET as they're running around trying to evade the bombs. This is a big WINNER and lots of summer fun.


Caine's Arcade
I was inspired to introduce this idea to my boys after seeing this video. It's a fantastic activity to get them thinking and it will cost nothing but some old boxes and a couple of rolls of sticky tape. The best part is that after making the game, they want to play it too! More time for coffee and a magazine.

Quiet inside time
I bet you have books, board games, card games, puzzles, lego which you and your kids have probably forgotten about. Sometimes we're all activitied out and just need some quiet time inside. I like to pull out one of these either to  share or for them to do on their own ['cause they get sick of each other and   need space too] It's great when the weather is no good or if they haven't been feeling very well.


Let's play house
This one is my all-time FAVOURITE. My boys are still young enough to not absolutely despise household chores [not long now though]. I get them to help me out and make it like a game. Who can sort the washing into piles the quickest? Who can make their bed the neatest? Who wants to use the vacuum cleaner? Who can make the biggest pile of weeds from the garden? Who can make the best cafe latte? 

Well... baby steps ;)

Team Meeting - United States of Tania

Ok, we all know why we're here. Well except for you Short-term Memory Loss, but I promise it will come back to you in fragments when you least expect it. 

I've called this meeting because it's well overdue and quite frankly, there are some things that just need to be put on the table.

Let's start with you Judgement. Why do you insist on leaving town every time Sav Blanc comes to visit? Have I not tried to keep you two together. You two need to be friends. Please stay awhile next time. It makes it so much easier for the rest of us but especially for Fancy Footwork. Yes, we know you think you can dance but whenever Judgement leaves you throw in those little dance moves that really should have been left back in the '90s when you wore hi-top sneakers out and not stilettos.

Piss Weak Guts would also like it if you stuck around to keep Sav Blanc under control. I know we had high expectations of her French heritage and are all disappointed that after years of training she still hasn't come up to speed but I think we all just need accept that this is the best we're going to get from her. The same goes for Sore Feet, Pounding Head and Severe Nausea. They're not going anywhere, so the sooner the rest of the team accepts that the better.

While we're here, can I just make a point to you Back Fat and Behind the Knees Cellulite. Don't think that because I can't see you, that I've forgotten you're there. I know and I'm not happy. I also know that I can't sack you without an aggressive managing-out process but I just don't have the resources for that at the moment so I'm going to ask you, again, to please leave. You are not required and serve no purpose. Perhaps you could take Tuck Shop Arms with you and set up your own team somewhere else.

Oh and as for you Laugh Lines... what the fuck was so funny? Seriously, take it down a notch.

How are you going Short-term Memory Loss? Have you caught up yet? Ah yes, you make a good point. Not a Morning Person is VERY upset that Judgement let the team down again. Having two kids who are up with the sparrows is hard enough but when you wake up on the morning after the night before with that bastard Hangover in your bed you know you're in for a tough day 'cause that prick just won't leave!

So, that concludes our meeting. At the end of the day, the bottom line is... to achieve a win/win situation, 24/7, Judgement is not to take unapproved leave. 

Ever again.

Step away from Mr Wrong

It still gets to me when I see women sell themselves short for men. Almost every woman I know has done it at least once. Shit, I've done it myself COUNTLESS times.

EVERY SINGLE thing that I am about to post is from recent real-life conversations with a number of women I know who range, in age, from 20 through to 60 years old. EVERY SINGLE conversation involved those same women justifying the very things they were complaining of... and that they SHOULD be complaining of.

This is my Top Ten list of signs that your Mr Right is wrong for you.

1. You don't exist in public

If you have not yet met his friends or family and you have been with him for longer than a few months [and you're not dating a refugee], there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

2. You give him a 'softy'

If he can't get it up, keep it up or seal the deal, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

3. You're walking and dancing on your own

If he never wants to do what you want to do, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

4. You are not John and Yoko

If he only ever wants to see you in bed, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

5. You are not on an island

If he doesn't want you to see your friends or family, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

6. You are not his therapist

If all he wants to do is talk about his problems and has no time to hear yours, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

7. You are not a babysitter

If he expects you to look after his kid from another partnership all the time while he pursues the things he wants to do, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

8. You are gorgeous

If he finds the need to tell you otherwise, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

9. You are worth it

If you have to beg him for your needs to be met, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

10. You are a grown-up

If you have to lie to him about where you're going, what you're doing and what you're spending, there's a problem. Stop making excuses for him.

Like I said to one of my gorgeous, smart, grown-up friends... he's not as good as you think.

Step away xx

Time Travelling Tan

I recently watched the Time Traveller's Wife. Y'know... the one where the husband has some brain issue that causes him to travel back and forth in time so that he sees himself and his family at all different ages including after death. 

It's a head-case of a movie but it got me thinking. What would I tell myself if I knew what I do now...


Dear three year old me, 
Your fluffy little yellow baby chick is not standing up because it's dead. You killed it when you took it to bed with you to sleep. No amount of leaning it against the wall is going to make it stand up.

Dear sixteen year old me, 
I know you think he's the love of your life and that you will be with him forever and ever and NO-ONE could possibly understand how much you love him but he's not. Don't run away from home to be with him. You're going to break your mum's heart and your friends are going to think you're an idiot. Which you are.


Dear twenty two year old me, 
DO NOT resign from Apple. They're going to rule the world and you're gonna wish for the rest of your days that your were on that ship. Also, you know that start-up company that gave you an offer that you thought was too good to be true but you went for anyway? Trust your gut girl - they're crooks.

Dear pre-motherhood me,
Don't waste your time on girl's baby names.

Dear fourteen year old me, 
Don't be so hard on your Dad. He's not well and fighting many demons, which you will understand when you're older. Don't tell him that you're not his daughter because you've never had a father. Kiss him and tell him you love him. Don't tell him that you never want to see him again. Because you won't. 

Dear four year old me, 
Don't drag three kindy chairs together and ask your hugely overweight neighbour to take a seat when she comes to see you in your kindergarten concert. It will cause her and your mother enormous embarrassment.

Dear thirty-five year old me, 
The midwife got it wrong. You're NOT 7 centimetres dilated, you're only 3. Take the fucking epidural!


Dear eleven year old me,
He's just not that into you. Get used to it. It's gonna happen a lot.

Dear Year Twelve me,
Don't bother turning up to Biology AT ALL. You're going to write a poem for your mid year exam and you're gonna get passed for the subject anyway. PLUS you'll win the poetry prize, get published and have it read out on radio.


Dear twenty three year old me, 
She really IS a stupid, disloyal friend who should NEVER have chosen to sleep with your ex-boyfriend. So...when she comes out of the pub, take her around the back to beat her up instead of in the lit-up car park so you're not dragged off her in a full nelson by the bouncers.


Dear seventeen year old me,
You don't know everything. You never will.

Love forty year old me xx

What would you tell your younger self??

Sleep School aka 'Go the F*ck to Sleep'

My first born son was the centre of our combined family’s universe. The first grandchild on both sides. The first nephew. The golden child. He was a happy, smiley, easy-going baby who was a ‘good sleeper’.

My second born son came when my first born had just turned two. He entered a household that already travelled to the beat of the first born’s drum. He came to a mum who naively believed that he would simply fall into step and give me no trouble – like his brother. Instead, he had some health issues including failure to thrive which resulted in him being a terrible sleeper. No, not terrible. That’s far too polite. I created a fucking monster. And it is, unquestionably, my fault. I did ALL the wrong things. I let him fall asleep on the boob. EVERY TIME. I rocked him to sleep. I made him fall into step with a toddler’s routine instead of listening to the needs of a baby. And I should feel terrible about it except I don’t and I don’t because I paid the price. Well and truly. Oh yes, he made me pay. By 11 months he was on the boob every two hours around the clock. On a good day. On a fussy day that could be every hour. How much sleep do you think I was getting?

I was a basket case. Really. No, really. I ended up at a Child and Youth Health appointment during which it was assessed that I required immediate intervention and so my stay at Torrens House was booked.

My four days at Torrens House saved my [and my kids] life.

I was scared to go there. I don’t believe in ‘controlled crying’. My opinion is that it contradicts a mother’s fundamental need to attend to her child’s needs. It does not make sense to me, on any level, to give your child the perception that they are being abandoned. I have not researched this with any authority and I know of many mothers who have successfully used this technique and their children seem unaffected by it. But I am resolute in my opinion nonetheless.  So, I was scared that they were going to make me use this technique with my baby. It turns out though, that my opinion is supported by the staff at Torrens House. Their technique teaches babies to self settle in a totally supported way, with mum by their side at all times. It’s exactly what I wanted and it worked on the VERY FIRST TIME. I have shared this technique with other mums who found themselves in the same nightmare as I did and it worked for them too.

DISCLAIMER. I am not a trained health professional or child/baby specialist. I am a mum who has found this technique to be very successful. You should not try this without first being sure that your child is not suffering from any other medical conditions which may be causing their unsettled behavior.

Step 1

Routine, routine, routine...

There are suggested routines for babies of all ages which you could research and apply or you may have a good idea of your own. I don’t think it really matters but it needs to be consistent. Most babies respond extremely well to regular and expected behaviours. Basically you need to head into this knowing approximately when each day your baby should be sleeping [and how many times] and when bed-time is at night. This applies to meals [including breast feeding or bottle feeding] too.

Step 2

Location, location, location...

When first teaching your baby to self-settle, it is best for it to be in the same place every time. That may be a cot/bassinet in your room or they may already be in their own nursery. If they are sharing a room with another sibling, I would recommend moving them out for a little while. It could get a bit disruptive in there.

Step 3

That’s a wrap!

A key success factor of this technique is WRAPPING YOUR BABY. I was explained that most babies have a strong startle reflex [you know, when they jerk with their hands out to the side]. This can happen even when they seem to be sleeping soundly and it wakes them up. If they are not able to self settle, this is when they’ll call out for their dummy or YOU. If you have tried wrapping and your baby is getting out of that wrap then you either haven’t wrapped them properly OR the wrap is too small. I have found that larger babies need something like a cotton cot sheet for this to work. I helped a mum with a one year old boy [that was a challenge!] and we used a single bed sheet for him.

So, in line with your routine and AFTER you have fed them you will need to wrap them. I like to strip them down to nappy and singlet, depending on the weather/temperature in the room, and gently sing “time for sleep” while I’m doing this. I learned that this is a good ‘sleep trigger’ but it’s not essential.  Do not let one arm out because ‘they like it’ or keep it loose because ‘they don’t like being constricted’ or this will not work. The wrap needs to be firm. They will be able to move their arms within the wrap but they must be kept close to their body or the startle reflex will wake them up.

Step 4

Hush little baby, don’t you cry

Put your lovely, wrapped baby into their cot/bassinet awake. They may already be crying because this is all new to them and you’re upsetting their apple cart. It’s ok. With bigger babies, you can secure them in place [sounds worse than it is] by tucking another sheet across them and firmly under the mattress. This just helps the whole process. Quietly talk to them while you’re getting them settled. You could sing or just quietly and calmly explain what you’re doing. Eg “Shhh… it’s ok. It’s time for sleep now and Mummy[or Daddy!]is  going to help. I’ll be right here baby.” My very firm suggestion at this stage is DO NOT apologise to them in words, tone or actions. Eg “Mummy’s sorry I have to do this” You are doing your job as their parent to help them sleep. Don’t apologise for that. Once you are comfortable that they are in place, we can move on to the next step.

Step 5

Pat a cake, pat a cake...

The next key success factor in this technique is to PAT THE BED. I was taught that once the baby has been laid down, not to touch them to help them sleep. This then becomes another thing they ‘need’. So, maybe pull up a chair and rhythmically pat the bed near their head. You can do this quite firmly as the intention is for them to feel it, almost like a heart-beat. I usually continue with my ‘time for sleep’ mantra punctuated with a few, calming ‘shhh’s’ and ‘Mummy’s here’.  Your baby will probably be crying throughout this whole process. Try to interpret that cry. Is it distress or is it just a protest? “What are you doing mum???? Why aren’t you holding me? Why aren’t you feeding me?” PRESS ON. You may quietly sing to them or talk to them reassuringly [you’re ok baby, mummy’s here] but try not to make eye contact with them. The intention is that they know you’re there but it’s time for sleep and you mean business.

Step 6

REPEAT

If this is overnight and your baby wakes up and YOU KNOW THERE’S NOTHING WRONG ie, they haven’t wet through the bed, or have a fever, or are too cold, or too hot bla bla, then simply pick them up for quick cuddle, rewrap them and start patting that bed! Your intention should be to help your baby make it through to the morning without a feed. For me, that meant bed time at 7.30pm and NO FEEDING before 5am. If he woke any time after 5am, he got a feed… and we were UP FOR THE DAY. [insert coffee here]

These are some things that I have experienced:

• On the first night of sleep training my son went to sleep using this method within 10 minutes. He SCREAMED but I could tell he was outraged not distressed.
• After never sleeping longer than 2 hours in a row, he slept 5 hours on that first night.
• My boobs were going to EXPLODE by the time I fed him in the morning because it was the first time in 11 months that I hadn’t fed him overnight.
• Once your baby has learned to go to sleep this way, anyone can do it. So this means your partner, your parent, your baby-sitter. It’s extremely liberating!
• Everything changes when this starts to work. You feel better. Your baby behaves better. It’s a happier life to live when everyone can get some real sleep.
• My son responded so well that he would bring me his wrap if he was tired to tell me it was time to go to sleep.

FINALLY

This is not for everyone, I understand that. I just wanted to share it because I know it works and I believe in it. Essentially, we all have different thresholds of what we can and can’t handle. In parenting, in sleeping, in disciplining, in eating, in loving, in working, in life. Some parents do not mind one bit being woken multiple times in the night by their baby. Some parents believe in co-sleeping and giving their baby full access to mum’s breasts all night. Some parents want their baby sleeping through the night from as early as weeks old and will let them cry it out. Whatever works for you, is whatever works for you. BUT, if it’s not working for you then here’s something that worked for us.

If you do try it, I’d love to know how it went for you.

Now… get some sleep :)

It gets better... I promise xx