So, dear readers, the babe came.
If I had to give an analogy for life with a newborn, it would be the undrunk cup of tea (followed closely by the unanswered texts, the eternal pile of washing, the milk-stained everything). Tea made at an interval of peace, when the video monitor showed baby to be fast asleep, the clock showed baby due to stay asleep for another hour or so (that's the rare optimist in me). Yet to be sure, the kettle boiling must be an alarm clock in babyland, for as soon as the water hits the mug, a scream is bound to be heard, and away from my beloved hot tea I must dash. Cut to hours later after a long bout of feeding and fussing and, on a good day, the baby is re-swaddled and placed down to (hopefully) sleep, before rinsing and repeating ad infinitum.
And as my tea sits cold and forlorn, with a smile I think of how I said aloud just two weeks ago with such blissful ignorance, "How am I possibly going to occupy my time when I'm on leave?"
The catch is (and I never would have believed it if I'd been told before), I've never been happier.
Thursday, 27 September 2012
Friday, 31 August 2012
PACKING UP
Today is my last day at work (and by work I mean both paid employment and postgrad studies), for a year potentially...
Packing up my desk, I feel surprisingly emotional. While physically I am craving the time off - the opportunity to nap during the day, to have my heat pack handy, to not have to change out of my pyjamas - it's a different story emotionally. I enjoy having a daily routine, somewhere to go to (even if I have been getting in shamefully late these days). More than having somewhere to go is having people to see - I like that on any given day at work, I will interact with people, share an office with my colleagues, have people to discuss publications, research, blogs and personal stories with. It sure beats spending the day alone at home, and it helps that I genuinely like my colleagues.
What I will also miss is feeling like I have a purpose, something that has become more important to me since entering (step)motherhood. At home sometimes, it's so easy to become bogged down in domestic routine almost to the point where it starts to feel vaguely oppressive - and not because I have a partner who doesn't contribute his fair share, because this isn't the case. It's simply that some element of your individuality, a sense of command or equal footing - of reaping immediate, tangible rewards of your hard work - is lost among the chores and tending to of children who (despite being appreciative at their core) do not thank you for your efforts. At work, I feel as though my thoughts, my intellectual input, is sought and valued. The work I do is acknowledged and appreciated, and there are tangible rewards to my efforts. I feel like I am truly in my element as myself and not someone merely fulfilling a required role.
By no means do I mean to to imply that parenting is not fulfilling and rewarding in its own way. Neither do I mean to deride or belittle those who don't work or those who are stay-at-home parents, or suggest that one even needs work to have meaning in their lives - far from it. But for me personally, there is a certain sense of self-actualisation that I get from my work that is truly meaningful to me, as corny as that may be. It's this, along with the friendly faces in my office and along the corridors, that makes me a little misty-eyed looking at my bare desk today.
I like to think of it though as not the end of an era, but the end of a chapter - one that heralds the start of another chapter, and does not preclude a reappearance of this current chapter's contents later down the track.
Packing up my desk, I feel surprisingly emotional. While physically I am craving the time off - the opportunity to nap during the day, to have my heat pack handy, to not have to change out of my pyjamas - it's a different story emotionally. I enjoy having a daily routine, somewhere to go to (even if I have been getting in shamefully late these days). More than having somewhere to go is having people to see - I like that on any given day at work, I will interact with people, share an office with my colleagues, have people to discuss publications, research, blogs and personal stories with. It sure beats spending the day alone at home, and it helps that I genuinely like my colleagues.
What I will also miss is feeling like I have a purpose, something that has become more important to me since entering (step)motherhood. At home sometimes, it's so easy to become bogged down in domestic routine almost to the point where it starts to feel vaguely oppressive - and not because I have a partner who doesn't contribute his fair share, because this isn't the case. It's simply that some element of your individuality, a sense of command or equal footing - of reaping immediate, tangible rewards of your hard work - is lost among the chores and tending to of children who (despite being appreciative at their core) do not thank you for your efforts. At work, I feel as though my thoughts, my intellectual input, is sought and valued. The work I do is acknowledged and appreciated, and there are tangible rewards to my efforts. I feel like I am truly in my element as myself and not someone merely fulfilling a required role.
By no means do I mean to to imply that parenting is not fulfilling and rewarding in its own way. Neither do I mean to deride or belittle those who don't work or those who are stay-at-home parents, or suggest that one even needs work to have meaning in their lives - far from it. But for me personally, there is a certain sense of self-actualisation that I get from my work that is truly meaningful to me, as corny as that may be. It's this, along with the friendly faces in my office and along the corridors, that makes me a little misty-eyed looking at my bare desk today.
I like to think of it though as not the end of an era, but the end of a chapter - one that heralds the start of another chapter, and does not preclude a reappearance of this current chapter's contents later down the track.
Monday, 27 August 2012
NINE MONTHS
Things I have previously taken for granted and really miss:
- Being able to put my shoes on by myself
- Being able to cut my own toenails
- Sleeping on my back
- Not waking up twice a night to go to the bathroom
- Rolling over in bed in one smooth motion
- Wearing jeans and other non-maternity leggings attire
- Walking properly
- Drinking (what I wouldn't give for a cold cider in this glorious spring weather...)
Things I am enjoying about being 9 months pregnant:
- Having an excuse for guilt-free afternoon naps
- Having a peculiar motivation to clean the house and do other previously dreaded domestic tasks (I think they call this "nesting")
- That the end is in sight!
Friday, 10 August 2012
THE JUGGLING ACT
Driven perhaps more by morbid curiosity to hear the vast array of responses, rather than a desire to find a definitive answer, I have read article after article addressing the (not-so) age-old question, How can women successfully juggle having a career and raising children? To be honest, I am getting tired of reading the same unhelpful content that goes along the lines of one of these options:
a) Women can have it all, they just need to reassess what "all" is and become comfortable with this new definition of "all". Through this, women should learn to accept the guilt they feel about doing an inadequate job either at home, at work, or both, as opposed to wider society making any changes or concerted efforts to reduce the need for these feelings of guilt (to me, not too dissimilar to the argument that if women don't want to be sexually harassed, they shouldn't dress inappropriately).
b) Women can't have it all, and it would be beneficial to them to stop pretending that they can.
c) In order to have it "all", you need to have enough disposable cash to be able to afford full-time childcare/a full-time nanny to help raise your children, or a supportive partner who is willing (and can afford) to stay at home to raise the children and tend to domestic chores. Not so feasible for anyone who isn't rolling in it, or doesn't have a partner (or one who can/will give up his/her career to become a stay-at-home parent).
d) Instead of trying to offer an answer, simply create a dialogue where women offer advice and insights from their personal experiences, which are usually along the lines of "There is no right time to start a family, so just go for it", and "It will be hard, but you will be so in love with and derive so much joy from your children that they will automatically become your priority at the end of the day".
Let me rephrase my earlier comment by saying I'm not fed up with women making an effort to try and discuss, reason and hypothesise about how we can reach some semblance of equality in achieving the career/home-life balance that men have been privilege to for decades. I think it's admirable and encouraging that women are creating dialogues about how things can be improved, or even if a solution isn't offered, at least the problem itself is being given air-time.
What bothers me is this attitude, like with so many other issues relating to gender equality, is that the burden of responsibility of change seems to always fall on women. We are the ones that must come to terms with these shortcomings, we are the ones that must resign ourselves to these facts, the sooner we do, and the sooner we stop fighting it - the happier we will be with what society offers us!
There is also commonly the token comment (I hate to say it, but usually from a man) who offers a "feminist" opinion that essentially states women need to stop "whinging" about this problem and, if it really is such a problem, they shouldn't try to have both kids and career in the first place. Basically, stop complaining and just pick one and be happy with that. Wow, what a great solution. Rather than trying to address the broader prejudices that make it challenging for women to have both, and making not just women but society (including, yes, men) accountable for these prejudices, let's place the burden on women to reign themselves in and shut the fuck up. How progressive!
Maybe the key is that answering this question will not suffice with words and verbal definitions of why or how there is difficulty in this balancing act. Maybe actual, practical change needs to come first, to facilitate the construction of an answer that doesn't involve a sacrifice of desires or resignation for women.
a) Women can have it all, they just need to reassess what "all" is and become comfortable with this new definition of "all". Through this, women should learn to accept the guilt they feel about doing an inadequate job either at home, at work, or both, as opposed to wider society making any changes or concerted efforts to reduce the need for these feelings of guilt (to me, not too dissimilar to the argument that if women don't want to be sexually harassed, they shouldn't dress inappropriately).
b) Women can't have it all, and it would be beneficial to them to stop pretending that they can.
c) In order to have it "all", you need to have enough disposable cash to be able to afford full-time childcare/a full-time nanny to help raise your children, or a supportive partner who is willing (and can afford) to stay at home to raise the children and tend to domestic chores. Not so feasible for anyone who isn't rolling in it, or doesn't have a partner (or one who can/will give up his/her career to become a stay-at-home parent).
d) Instead of trying to offer an answer, simply create a dialogue where women offer advice and insights from their personal experiences, which are usually along the lines of "There is no right time to start a family, so just go for it", and "It will be hard, but you will be so in love with and derive so much joy from your children that they will automatically become your priority at the end of the day".
Let me rephrase my earlier comment by saying I'm not fed up with women making an effort to try and discuss, reason and hypothesise about how we can reach some semblance of equality in achieving the career/home-life balance that men have been privilege to for decades. I think it's admirable and encouraging that women are creating dialogues about how things can be improved, or even if a solution isn't offered, at least the problem itself is being given air-time.
What bothers me is this attitude, like with so many other issues relating to gender equality, is that the burden of responsibility of change seems to always fall on women. We are the ones that must come to terms with these shortcomings, we are the ones that must resign ourselves to these facts, the sooner we do, and the sooner we stop fighting it - the happier we will be with what society offers us!
There is also commonly the token comment (I hate to say it, but usually from a man) who offers a "feminist" opinion that essentially states women need to stop "whinging" about this problem and, if it really is such a problem, they shouldn't try to have both kids and career in the first place. Basically, stop complaining and just pick one and be happy with that. Wow, what a great solution. Rather than trying to address the broader prejudices that make it challenging for women to have both, and making not just women but society (including, yes, men) accountable for these prejudices, let's place the burden on women to reign themselves in and shut the fuck up. How progressive!
Maybe the key is that answering this question will not suffice with words and verbal definitions of why or how there is difficulty in this balancing act. Maybe actual, practical change needs to come first, to facilitate the construction of an answer that doesn't involve a sacrifice of desires or resignation for women.
Saturday, 4 August 2012
Monday, 30 July 2012
MERCURY IN RETROGRADE
Things have been a bit chaotic around these parts lately. Little things going wrong day to day for no reason. Bigger things going wrong personally and in my close sphere, disastrous freakish things within days or even hours of each other. Mental states so foreign from those held previously have been creeping in, so insidiously and irrationally. Where a sense of calm had descended upon me about my upcoming birth and the baby, fear has now taken its place, and has compounded in ways that I haven't experienced with such intensity over the past eight months. I find the darkest thoughts about stillbirth and illness coming forth from the recesses of my mind against my will, against all rationality. I feel a simultaneous need to release all this emotional turmoil, and an inability to get any words out. While there have been many topics - mostly positive insights - stewing in my mind that I've been eager to share here, when it comes to writing, lately I have found myself unable to get anything out. It's as though I have been unknowingly jerked into some negative space and remain stuck there, despite my best efforts.
Funnily enough, at the height of all this strangeness, I came across a post about Mercury in retrograde (you can read it here). Basically, Mercury is the planet that controls thought and communication, and it is totally fucking that up at the moment. I don't know how much I even believe in astrology, but I thought it was still interesting even if you read about it from a place of skepticism.
I like the point made in the post about questioning what happens when bad shit happens when Mercury isn't in retrograde, when there are no planetary alignments or external factors to blame. Maybe these periods come and go for no discernible reason. Or maybe things will turn around after August 8. Either way, I guess at times like these it's best to bunker down and wait for the storm to pass.
Friday, 20 July 2012
MAKING FRIENDS
This morning I read an interesting article on how difficult it can be for people to make, and maintain, meaningful friendships once they enter their 30s.
Although not yet in my 30s, the sentiment of this article resonated with me, as Alex and I definitely struggled with this phenomenon after the 6 year old came into our care and started making friends at her new school. Neither of us have many friends who have children, and while I am lucky enough to have some of the most amazing and supportive friends you could ask for*, I couldn't help but wonder if I should start making friends with fellow parents, both for the sake of the 6 year old and for my sake - having people who I could relate to in terms of the lice treatments, discipline tactics, fun kids craft activities, and all the other little nuances that come with raising a child.
I don't know how earnestly I tried, to be honest. Luckily for us, the 6 year old's best friend has parents who are quite like-minded when it comes to their lifestyle and general philosophies - we can chat fairly easily about growing a vegetable garden and enjoying a child-free drunken wine night on the weekend. But, at the end of the day, I just wasn't able to relate on any meaningful level. The age gap doesn't help - try as I might to relate, I don't have the same thoughts, worries, life experience as someone approaching their 40s. Likewise, I'm sure they can see that I am of an entirely different generation, and still finding my feet with this whole parenting thing. Maybe the obstacle is more my inability to fully commit to making an effort. Either way, I came to realise that while it certainly helps to be able to relate to these people as friendly acquaintances, why do I need more than that? Perhaps, rather than trying to force friendships out of obligation or some perceived need, we should just let new ties form naturally - to whatever extent they happen to develop - and not try to push beyond that.
*At the end of the day, while my friends may be childless, we still relate to each other on a level that is irreplaceably meaningful, and I hope that these bonds will carry through well into and past our 30s.
Although not yet in my 30s, the sentiment of this article resonated with me, as Alex and I definitely struggled with this phenomenon after the 6 year old came into our care and started making friends at her new school. Neither of us have many friends who have children, and while I am lucky enough to have some of the most amazing and supportive friends you could ask for*, I couldn't help but wonder if I should start making friends with fellow parents, both for the sake of the 6 year old and for my sake - having people who I could relate to in terms of the lice treatments, discipline tactics, fun kids craft activities, and all the other little nuances that come with raising a child.
I don't know how earnestly I tried, to be honest. Luckily for us, the 6 year old's best friend has parents who are quite like-minded when it comes to their lifestyle and general philosophies - we can chat fairly easily about growing a vegetable garden and enjoying a child-free drunken wine night on the weekend. But, at the end of the day, I just wasn't able to relate on any meaningful level. The age gap doesn't help - try as I might to relate, I don't have the same thoughts, worries, life experience as someone approaching their 40s. Likewise, I'm sure they can see that I am of an entirely different generation, and still finding my feet with this whole parenting thing. Maybe the obstacle is more my inability to fully commit to making an effort. Either way, I came to realise that while it certainly helps to be able to relate to these people as friendly acquaintances, why do I need more than that? Perhaps, rather than trying to force friendships out of obligation or some perceived need, we should just let new ties form naturally - to whatever extent they happen to develop - and not try to push beyond that.
*At the end of the day, while my friends may be childless, we still relate to each other on a level that is irreplaceably meaningful, and I hope that these bonds will carry through well into and past our 30s.
Friday, 13 July 2012
CABIN FEVER
It's been a long time between drinks (both figuratively and literally) - I wish I could say I've been busy gallivanting across Europe, or anywhere outside my front door really. In reality I've been sick and housebound for the past five days, which is starting to take its toll. Theoretically, a week off at home sounds great, except for the fact that you are literally unable to do anything except curl up in the foetal position and curse the baby inside you for denying you access to the healing, glorious bounty that is cold and flu medication (which I use in moderation, just as a disclaimer). I can only imagine what it was like for the indisposed before the invention of penicillin - yes, perhaps not exactly a fair comparison, but the cabin fever has caused me to become a bit bonkers.
Perhaps due to my slightly delirious state, I found myself overcome by what they call in birthing class, "nesting". This occurs when a pregnant woman gets the sudden urge to prepare for the arrival of the baby, which I thought was a load of bull until I woke up one morning at 3am in a panic - We have no clothes for the baby! What if we don't get any in time and it has to go around just in nappies? Shit, we don't have any nappies. It can't go around naked because then I'll have to clean up its poo from the floor. We need baby wipes. Shit. And what about those cotton wool ball things? What about a play mat? What if the baby becomes dim-witted from lack of stimulation? Where am I going to put the baby when I'm alone and need to go to the toilet? etc etc etc. On second thought, I'm not sure if this is "nesting" or just regular crazy. And I wonder how much of all this a baby actually needs, as opposed to what the parents need in order to make themselves feel prepared and mildly competent. I wonder if Einstein had a play mat or one of those high-contrast black and white mobiles.
Just to round off this strange mish-mash of thoughts, an insight from a friend who recently gave birth to her first child:
Obviously you expect it to be painful but honestly nothing in this world could ever prepare you for the pain, it's like nothing else... As for forgetting the pain instantly once you hold your baby, it's all bull! I still haven't forgotten!!
Perhaps due to my slightly delirious state, I found myself overcome by what they call in birthing class, "nesting". This occurs when a pregnant woman gets the sudden urge to prepare for the arrival of the baby, which I thought was a load of bull until I woke up one morning at 3am in a panic - We have no clothes for the baby! What if we don't get any in time and it has to go around just in nappies? Shit, we don't have any nappies. It can't go around naked because then I'll have to clean up its poo from the floor. We need baby wipes. Shit. And what about those cotton wool ball things? What about a play mat? What if the baby becomes dim-witted from lack of stimulation? Where am I going to put the baby when I'm alone and need to go to the toilet? etc etc etc. On second thought, I'm not sure if this is "nesting" or just regular crazy. And I wonder how much of all this a baby actually needs, as opposed to what the parents need in order to make themselves feel prepared and mildly competent. I wonder if Einstein had a play mat or one of those high-contrast black and white mobiles.
Just to round off this strange mish-mash of thoughts, an insight from a friend who recently gave birth to her first child:
Obviously you expect it to be painful but honestly nothing in this world could ever prepare you for the pain, it's like nothing else... As for forgetting the pain instantly once you hold your baby, it's all bull! I still haven't forgotten!!
Saturday, 23 June 2012
TWO DOWN, ONE TO GO
Today is the first day of my third trimester. I celebrated by having two lunches.
Friday, 22 June 2012
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