1.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Heaven scent.
It’s the simple pleasures in life that float my boat. Midnight snuggles my sleepy little boy who magically transforms back in to a floppy newborn, albeit an 11kg one, when I pick him up in the middle of the night for a selfish mummy moment. Feeling the sweet, warm, heart melting sigh of my little cherub’s breath as he’s nuzzles in to my neck. And deciding whether he’ll have Spiderman or Superman bed sheets when the time comes for him to move up to a big boy bed. Taking him to school for the first time with a little backpack and a lunch box. Explaining to him what rain is, who Santa is, taking him skiing for the first time, watching Sesame Street videos with him. So much to look forward to!
Chapter Two
Now that I’m well and truly adjusted to life as a mother, I find myself trying to deal with all the unsolicited advice that comes my way from well-meaning people. This is something that I’m sure all parents can relate to. And yet, to a certain extent, we’re all guilty of it. Now when I offer advice to my friends, I start of with a disclaimer- “You may or may not wish to try X, Y, Z”. Or “Some people find X helpful when your baby’s teething”. Advice should never be forced upon someone with the words “You should” or You must”. A lot of my friends are pregnant at the moment and I remind myself that the best thing I can say to them is to try and trust their own instincts. Mother knows best. Period.
Now, how to deal with all the ignoramuses out there who just won’t stop telling you how to raise you child? Do you smile politely and agree that you’ll give their idea a go, while secretly repeating profanities over and over in your head? Do you confront them and explain that they had their kids over thirty years ago and that things are now different in 2009? Or do you simply reach for the nearest rock and take aim? I have to say that on this one I’m really torn. I don’t have the faintest idea how to handle these people. I guess what gets me is the thought that they might be judging me and obviously not like what they’re seeing. Why else would they scoot over to me and, while gently placing an unwanted hand on my knee, tell me everything I’m doing wrong and everything I need to do to do it right. Oh, I want to scream! People can be so ignorant. In this day and age we’ve got people from different cultures, different generations, and different backgrounds raising kids in the same neighborhoods. Why is it if you’re Jewish or Muslim nobody thinks twice when you explain that your kid can’t have a ham and cheese sandwich? But if you dare to raise your child as a vegetarian or as a vegan, everyone suddenly has the right to voice their opinion.
One of my trusty techniques is to defend myself with the words “This is exactly what my mother suggested.” So far that seems to stop people dead in their tracks. It ends the conversation immediately. And I’m free to resume my own way of doing things. I don’t want to have to justify why my husband and I took the decision to start brushing Matty’s teeth when he was a year old, or why I’m only just starting to wean Matt off his pacifier at seventeen months, or why I read stories to my sleeping newborn when I could have been catching up on sleep for myself? Why should I have to explain these things to anyone? I also tend to say to all the annoying busy bodies out there “Our pediatrician advised us to do this”. And I say this whether it’s true or not. “Our doctor told us to give him five cookies in a row. He says it’s a great way to keep him quiet when I go shopping.” Often people get the hint. Butt out, piss off, and keep your trap shut!
Now, how to deal with all the ignoramuses out there who just won’t stop telling you how to raise you child? Do you smile politely and agree that you’ll give their idea a go, while secretly repeating profanities over and over in your head? Do you confront them and explain that they had their kids over thirty years ago and that things are now different in 2009? Or do you simply reach for the nearest rock and take aim? I have to say that on this one I’m really torn. I don’t have the faintest idea how to handle these people. I guess what gets me is the thought that they might be judging me and obviously not like what they’re seeing. Why else would they scoot over to me and, while gently placing an unwanted hand on my knee, tell me everything I’m doing wrong and everything I need to do to do it right. Oh, I want to scream! People can be so ignorant. In this day and age we’ve got people from different cultures, different generations, and different backgrounds raising kids in the same neighborhoods. Why is it if you’re Jewish or Muslim nobody thinks twice when you explain that your kid can’t have a ham and cheese sandwich? But if you dare to raise your child as a vegetarian or as a vegan, everyone suddenly has the right to voice their opinion.
One of my trusty techniques is to defend myself with the words “This is exactly what my mother suggested.” So far that seems to stop people dead in their tracks. It ends the conversation immediately. And I’m free to resume my own way of doing things. I don’t want to have to justify why my husband and I took the decision to start brushing Matty’s teeth when he was a year old, or why I’m only just starting to wean Matt off his pacifier at seventeen months, or why I read stories to my sleeping newborn when I could have been catching up on sleep for myself? Why should I have to explain these things to anyone? I also tend to say to all the annoying busy bodies out there “Our pediatrician advised us to do this”. And I say this whether it’s true or not. “Our doctor told us to give him five cookies in a row. He says it’s a great way to keep him quiet when I go shopping.” Often people get the hint. Butt out, piss off, and keep your trap shut!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Introductions...
Whereas some people get writers block, I often find myself with a case of writer’s runs. I am very verbal. And when it comes to writing I get even more speedy, knowing that it’s just me and my laptop and my fingers slaving away for me. Like a runner on an open track, I’m free, fast and happy when left alone with my computer, typing away…
Like any new parent, my child is the center of my world and, of course, my favorite topic of conversation. I can talk for hours about my son. I adore him. He is the sweetest, cutest, most fascinating little person I’ve ever met. He is heaven!
When my little beautiful boy was born almost 18 months ago, my world changed for the better. I started to see new meaning in life. My priorities shifted. I matured. My marriage changed. Because now that we’ve been blessed with our little bundle of love, my husband and I understand that we were put on this earth to devote ourselves to caring for our son. And it’s a job that I embrace with every fiber of my being. I love being a mother.
Matt, (not his real name) is learning to walk, learning to feed himself, learning to talk, and very slowly, learning what Time-Out is all about. This is the age of discovery. And as for me, I’m learning the best way to teach him all these things. My view is that Matty needs support and gentle encouragement and he’ll reach his milestones in his own time. I have many dear, dear friends who let me know that nobody is keeping track of when baby X accomplishes sleeping through the night, and when baby Y rolls over for the first time, and when baby Z masters potty training. Too many mothers out there are so competitive and line their kids up like wind up toy cars and try and race them against each other to the finish line. Not me. For my husband and me, it’s our kid who’s got the gold medal. We lie in bed at night saying the same thing we’ve said since his birth- we got the best one. Love is such a powerful force. It’s a beautiful thing. It can heal you. Blind you. And quite simply, make everything alright. And I don’t take this for granted. Not for one second. When Matt was born he had to spend quite a bit of time in the hospital. So without going in to too much detail, I can tell you that this feeling of elation, of immense gratitude for my son, of celebration for his precious life and this incredible blessing that is little Matty, oh I don’t for a millisecond take the love and the kisses and the cuddles I have for him for granted.
Like any new parent, my child is the center of my world and, of course, my favorite topic of conversation. I can talk for hours about my son. I adore him. He is the sweetest, cutest, most fascinating little person I’ve ever met. He is heaven!
When my little beautiful boy was born almost 18 months ago, my world changed for the better. I started to see new meaning in life. My priorities shifted. I matured. My marriage changed. Because now that we’ve been blessed with our little bundle of love, my husband and I understand that we were put on this earth to devote ourselves to caring for our son. And it’s a job that I embrace with every fiber of my being. I love being a mother.
Matt, (not his real name) is learning to walk, learning to feed himself, learning to talk, and very slowly, learning what Time-Out is all about. This is the age of discovery. And as for me, I’m learning the best way to teach him all these things. My view is that Matty needs support and gentle encouragement and he’ll reach his milestones in his own time. I have many dear, dear friends who let me know that nobody is keeping track of when baby X accomplishes sleeping through the night, and when baby Y rolls over for the first time, and when baby Z masters potty training. Too many mothers out there are so competitive and line their kids up like wind up toy cars and try and race them against each other to the finish line. Not me. For my husband and me, it’s our kid who’s got the gold medal. We lie in bed at night saying the same thing we’ve said since his birth- we got the best one. Love is such a powerful force. It’s a beautiful thing. It can heal you. Blind you. And quite simply, make everything alright. And I don’t take this for granted. Not for one second. When Matt was born he had to spend quite a bit of time in the hospital. So without going in to too much detail, I can tell you that this feeling of elation, of immense gratitude for my son, of celebration for his precious life and this incredible blessing that is little Matty, oh I don’t for a millisecond take the love and the kisses and the cuddles I have for him for granted.
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