I've put some up some posts on Emervents triggered by a conversation I had about vaccines on facebook. Yey for social networking!
Thinking about Vaccines? Thinking of Googling? Found AVN or VISA? Think again.
and
Critique of AVN's 10 Reason's Parents Question Vaccination
As with all blog posts about issues I feel strongly about, they are WAY long.
Showing posts with label Sage Advice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sage Advice. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Just what is Bad Mummy Syndrome anyway?
Every now and then I google Bad Mummy Syndrome just to see what turns up, and the other day I found this. I recommend you go there before continuing, it's refreshingly short (and the other stuff on the site looks like it might be worth a tickle with the eyes). They're quite unsympathetic to us Mummies who suffer from Bad Mummy Syndrome so I wrote this for them:
Hi, I'm such a fan of Bad Mummy Syndrome that I named my blog (paltry, don't bother going) after it.
You guys seem so hard on us that I felt I had to respond.
I argue that Bad Mummy Syndrome is not about perfect mummies pretending to compete to be the worst mummy of all, the Bad Mummy Syndrome is a dialect. It's CODE. It's a code we use to tell other Mummies (or Daddies) that most of the plethora of rules and systems we are bombarded with these days from books, media, and well-meaning interfererers are at best, designed to make us feel inadequate, and at worst, shite to the point of dangerous.
Examples:
"My daughter is still in nappies and she's four! I'm hopeless at this toilet training thing!" is code for, "My mother, my mother-in-law, my grandmother and every other fucking busybody who would tell me how to rear my children is giving me a hard time about this. I know my daughter and I know she's unlikely to be psychologically scarred, but hey, mark me Bad Mummy for not fitting in."
Bad Mummies of my generation would probably roll their eyes in sympathy at this, generation Y might give a sympathetic "Meh." But after the eye rolling and sympathy noises comes the really, really important bit. The listening Bad Mummy (Bad Mummy Two) must now appropriately denigrate herself. Why? Because if she doesn't, Bad Mummy One really IS a bad mother. If she doesn't, Bad Mummy One is all alone.
So, Bad Mummy Two might say, "Mine slept with us until he was five, we just couldn't convince him that a separate bed was the way to go!" This is code for, "I tried, I tried everything, but in the end the nightly screams and tantrums wore me down, I figured that he must, for some reason only known to him, need me at night and I opted for a quite life with sleep in it. Half the world is telling me that co-sleeping for that long will cause deep Freudian traumas that only emerge in his teens. But I know he's a happy kid who got what he needed. Sue me for Bad Mumminess why don't you."
Other translations might include:
"I caught my two year old drinking liquid soap today." Is code for, "I'm so fucking tired, and she's so fucking precocious that NOTHING is safe in the house any more. They say you have to watch them every second but how is that really truly possible if you have to look after everyone else as well?"
"I locked my three year old in her cot for half an hour yesterday. When I got back she'd thrown all the toys I'd given her onto the floor and had nearly broken the gate she was shaking it so hard!" Is code for, "I had to separate us or I was going to physically hurt her. She has screaming rages over such tiny things and it goes on all day, drilling into my skull, I think I'm going insane. If I don't get a decent break from her soon I will simply go catatonic."
I could go on and on. But I'm thinking I'd be pressing my luck.
Bad Mummy Dialogues are not about "competing to be the worst Mummy", they are not about being unable to admit to our own perfection, they are about reassuring each other that these things are normal. That it's normal to have problems, that it's normal to feel like strangling your kids (they can be unbelievably frustrating, even the little angels!), and it's normal to feel completely inadequate and at sea.
The reason this reassuring dialogue is couched in terms of imperfection, the reason that it takes the form of a public flogging is that we are bombarded from every angle with the possibility of perfect parenthood. Advertisements flaunt unattainable visions of perfect families in much the same way they flaunt unattainable physiques. Books and seminars offer miracle solutions and cures to all that ails your potentially perfect offspring (and if they're imperfect it's your fault by god, get your act together woman!) It seems there isn't a parenting problem under the sun that doesn't have a book on it or a product out that promises miracles.
With all this advice and help out there, where are the excuses for shoddy parenting in any form? We speak in terms of the Bad Mummy because we know this, we know that in the public eye there are no excuses. We are ashamed, guilty of not attaining an ideal that is as impossible for most parents as a Kate Moss figure.
So next time you overhear us "competing", please, try cracking the code before you come over all judgmental. It's fear of harsh judgment that gave us Bad Mummy Syndrome in the first place.
Hi, I'm such a fan of Bad Mummy Syndrome that I named my blog (paltry, don't bother going) after it.
You guys seem so hard on us that I felt I had to respond.
I argue that Bad Mummy Syndrome is not about perfect mummies pretending to compete to be the worst mummy of all, the Bad Mummy Syndrome is a dialect. It's CODE. It's a code we use to tell other Mummies (or Daddies) that most of the plethora of rules and systems we are bombarded with these days from books, media, and well-meaning interfererers are at best, designed to make us feel inadequate, and at worst, shite to the point of dangerous.
Examples:
"My daughter is still in nappies and she's four! I'm hopeless at this toilet training thing!" is code for, "My mother, my mother-in-law, my grandmother and every other fucking busybody who would tell me how to rear my children is giving me a hard time about this. I know my daughter and I know she's unlikely to be psychologically scarred, but hey, mark me Bad Mummy for not fitting in."
Bad Mummies of my generation would probably roll their eyes in sympathy at this, generation Y might give a sympathetic "Meh." But after the eye rolling and sympathy noises comes the really, really important bit. The listening Bad Mummy (Bad Mummy Two) must now appropriately denigrate herself. Why? Because if she doesn't, Bad Mummy One really IS a bad mother. If she doesn't, Bad Mummy One is all alone.
So, Bad Mummy Two might say, "Mine slept with us until he was five, we just couldn't convince him that a separate bed was the way to go!" This is code for, "I tried, I tried everything, but in the end the nightly screams and tantrums wore me down, I figured that he must, for some reason only known to him, need me at night and I opted for a quite life with sleep in it. Half the world is telling me that co-sleeping for that long will cause deep Freudian traumas that only emerge in his teens. But I know he's a happy kid who got what he needed. Sue me for Bad Mumminess why don't you."
Other translations might include:
"I caught my two year old drinking liquid soap today." Is code for, "I'm so fucking tired, and she's so fucking precocious that NOTHING is safe in the house any more. They say you have to watch them every second but how is that really truly possible if you have to look after everyone else as well?"
"I locked my three year old in her cot for half an hour yesterday. When I got back she'd thrown all the toys I'd given her onto the floor and had nearly broken the gate she was shaking it so hard!" Is code for, "I had to separate us or I was going to physically hurt her. She has screaming rages over such tiny things and it goes on all day, drilling into my skull, I think I'm going insane. If I don't get a decent break from her soon I will simply go catatonic."
I could go on and on. But I'm thinking I'd be pressing my luck.
Bad Mummy Dialogues are not about "competing to be the worst Mummy", they are not about being unable to admit to our own perfection, they are about reassuring each other that these things are normal. That it's normal to have problems, that it's normal to feel like strangling your kids (they can be unbelievably frustrating, even the little angels!), and it's normal to feel completely inadequate and at sea.
The reason this reassuring dialogue is couched in terms of imperfection, the reason that it takes the form of a public flogging is that we are bombarded from every angle with the possibility of perfect parenthood. Advertisements flaunt unattainable visions of perfect families in much the same way they flaunt unattainable physiques. Books and seminars offer miracle solutions and cures to all that ails your potentially perfect offspring (and if they're imperfect it's your fault by god, get your act together woman!) It seems there isn't a parenting problem under the sun that doesn't have a book on it or a product out that promises miracles.
With all this advice and help out there, where are the excuses for shoddy parenting in any form? We speak in terms of the Bad Mummy because we know this, we know that in the public eye there are no excuses. We are ashamed, guilty of not attaining an ideal that is as impossible for most parents as a Kate Moss figure.
So next time you overhear us "competing", please, try cracking the code before you come over all judgmental. It's fear of harsh judgment that gave us Bad Mummy Syndrome in the first place.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Relax, Ms Whole Foods Puritan, relax.
I’ve just come back from an encounter with one of those god awful parents. Ms Wholefoods Puritan, you probably know the type:
“Oh no, dahling cheree can’t have those for lunch, my children have never TASTED white bread.”
"My children don’t get choices, they eat what they’re given!”
“This woman was giving her kids FAIRY BREAD!! at a QUARTER to FIVE!!!!”
I was trying to be polite I really was. My eyes were quivering in their sockets with the effort required to keep them from rolling skywards in bored exasperation. “Relax, get over yourself!” I wanted to say, “No healthy person has ever died from occasional consumption of fairy bread. Your obsession with food is going to rub off on them and not in the way you think. As soon as they get a tiny bit of freedom they’re going to be gorging themselves on all the food you wouldn’t let them have and they won’t know how to leave it alone because you didn’t let them take it for granted you silly woman!”
But of course I didn’t, I did try to say something like maybe the errant mother thought the kids would like a treat since they were all having a play togther but she wouldn’t let me finish the sentence. I also thought of telling her about my cousins who weren’t allowed anything nice so they bought or borrowed treats and hid their contraband under the bed. However, she was too busy telling me that her children’s love of lentils was due to the fact that they’d never had icecream to listen.
I know people who grew up with parents who thought that certain foods had inherently evil qualities. I was one of them. My mother would go through phase after phase. First it was dairy products that were causing all her ills, then it was wheat, then sugar (she was an alcoholic so I used to think that the sugar allergy was hilarious given that it’s one of the breakdown products of alcohol). But the alltime evil foods were processed foods - the ones with the dreaded additives. Preservatives, colouring, artificial flavouring, they were all inherently evil and the nasties would hang around for years doing hideous things to your insides. She was always very vague about the exact nature of these things, but cancer came up a lot.
I don’t buy the idea that if you restrict your child’s diet to nothing but wholefoods they’ll grow into serene, well behaved little angels with a model health record. I do believe in not allowing too many sweet things, letting them go hungry before dinner (depending on the age group, it’s a bit too hard on babies and toddlers to my mind) and making their first taste of food something savoury, like pureed brocolli. But outlawing fairy bread, cup cakes, and the occasional jelly bean is sheer lunacy because you’ll end up creating a desperate desire for the things that they see all their friends enjoying but can’t have themselves.
Choosing healthy foods is one of the first ways kids practise the fine art of making good choices. I want to let my children make lots of mistakes, I want them to practice choosing so they are not making their first real life choices when 18, head strong and behind the wheel of a car. I want them to be able to know the difference between yummy foods that are loaded with sugar and salt and yummy foods that are good for them so they are not making their first choices when they move out of home for the first time. I heard of a girl who ended up with scurvy because she lived on white bread and jam for most of her first year at Uni. Guess who wasn’t allowed white bread at home?
I encourage my children to eat well. I tell them why we are eating what we are eating but the rest is up to them. I let them get sick on easter eggs and marshmallows because I know they’ll remember the experience for next time. Even at two years old my youngest knows that too many easter eggs will make her feel unwell. I feed them fruit and chicken soup when they’re sick so they’ll associate those foods with comfort and feeling better. And my favourite rule: Nothing makes food taste better than eating it at a friendly dinner table when you’re ravenous.
My mother was an “eat it all or else” Nazi, my step-mother was a “you must try it, but you don’t have to eat it. If you don’t want it there’s fruit and cheese in the fridge and you can get it yourself. Remember, what you don’t eat today you get tomorrow in another form!” (My step-mother is a soup and fritters from leftovers cullinary genius.) Guess who’s cooking was my favourite? and guess who’s table I try to emulate today? My step-mother’s.
So my message to Ms Whole Foods Puritan? Relax woman. Let them have the occasional hamburger with their salad, let them see that junk food is a tasty thing that they can access but is not desirable all the time. Withhold it and you’ll create desire for it sure as free range eggs are happy eggs.
“Oh no, dahling cheree can’t have those for lunch, my children have never TASTED white bread.”
"My children don’t get choices, they eat what they’re given!”
“This woman was giving her kids FAIRY BREAD!! at a QUARTER to FIVE!!!!”
I was trying to be polite I really was. My eyes were quivering in their sockets with the effort required to keep them from rolling skywards in bored exasperation. “Relax, get over yourself!” I wanted to say, “No healthy person has ever died from occasional consumption of fairy bread. Your obsession with food is going to rub off on them and not in the way you think. As soon as they get a tiny bit of freedom they’re going to be gorging themselves on all the food you wouldn’t let them have and they won’t know how to leave it alone because you didn’t let them take it for granted you silly woman!”
But of course I didn’t, I did try to say something like maybe the errant mother thought the kids would like a treat since they were all having a play togther but she wouldn’t let me finish the sentence. I also thought of telling her about my cousins who weren’t allowed anything nice so they bought or borrowed treats and hid their contraband under the bed. However, she was too busy telling me that her children’s love of lentils was due to the fact that they’d never had icecream to listen.
I know people who grew up with parents who thought that certain foods had inherently evil qualities. I was one of them. My mother would go through phase after phase. First it was dairy products that were causing all her ills, then it was wheat, then sugar (she was an alcoholic so I used to think that the sugar allergy was hilarious given that it’s one of the breakdown products of alcohol). But the alltime evil foods were processed foods - the ones with the dreaded additives. Preservatives, colouring, artificial flavouring, they were all inherently evil and the nasties would hang around for years doing hideous things to your insides. She was always very vague about the exact nature of these things, but cancer came up a lot.
I don’t buy the idea that if you restrict your child’s diet to nothing but wholefoods they’ll grow into serene, well behaved little angels with a model health record. I do believe in not allowing too many sweet things, letting them go hungry before dinner (depending on the age group, it’s a bit too hard on babies and toddlers to my mind) and making their first taste of food something savoury, like pureed brocolli. But outlawing fairy bread, cup cakes, and the occasional jelly bean is sheer lunacy because you’ll end up creating a desperate desire for the things that they see all their friends enjoying but can’t have themselves.
Choosing healthy foods is one of the first ways kids practise the fine art of making good choices. I want to let my children make lots of mistakes, I want them to practice choosing so they are not making their first real life choices when 18, head strong and behind the wheel of a car. I want them to be able to know the difference between yummy foods that are loaded with sugar and salt and yummy foods that are good for them so they are not making their first choices when they move out of home for the first time. I heard of a girl who ended up with scurvy because she lived on white bread and jam for most of her first year at Uni. Guess who wasn’t allowed white bread at home?
I encourage my children to eat well. I tell them why we are eating what we are eating but the rest is up to them. I let them get sick on easter eggs and marshmallows because I know they’ll remember the experience for next time. Even at two years old my youngest knows that too many easter eggs will make her feel unwell. I feed them fruit and chicken soup when they’re sick so they’ll associate those foods with comfort and feeling better. And my favourite rule: Nothing makes food taste better than eating it at a friendly dinner table when you’re ravenous.
My mother was an “eat it all or else” Nazi, my step-mother was a “you must try it, but you don’t have to eat it. If you don’t want it there’s fruit and cheese in the fridge and you can get it yourself. Remember, what you don’t eat today you get tomorrow in another form!” (My step-mother is a soup and fritters from leftovers cullinary genius.) Guess who’s cooking was my favourite? and guess who’s table I try to emulate today? My step-mother’s.
So my message to Ms Whole Foods Puritan? Relax woman. Let them have the occasional hamburger with their salad, let them see that junk food is a tasty thing that they can access but is not desirable all the time. Withhold it and you’ll create desire for it sure as free range eggs are happy eggs.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Money shmoney and kiddy shmiddies.
Trivial response to an Age blah. I mean blog!
You will never regret teaching your kids how to save, pay bills and have money left over for nice things. Why? Ask any parent of a teenager who doesn't have those skills....
I negotiate pocket money with my 11yo. A portion goes straight to his personal account and he gets the rest as cash. 10% of any other money he gets also goes into his bank account. The only real rule is that I won't buy him junk food, toy weapons or video games, he uses his own money for that (right now he is hoarding cash to save for an X-Box 360). Meanwhile he gets to see his bank savings grow via the "Pay Yourself First" method of saving. You should have seen his face the first time he was paid interest - "The bank GAVE me money, just for keeping my money with them? WOW." I tell him this money is for later, for a gap year, or a car or whatever.
My parents told me nothing about money when I was growing up, so I make up for it now with spreadsheets, 13 bank accounts (each with a different purpose) and a system of automatic debits so complex that if I die without writing an instruction book it will take years to figure out what I was doing... Perhaps I over reacted...
You won't regret teaching your kids to save. Teaching them while they're in nappies is probably a bit early to my mind. Though when they were in nappies, and I was a broke single mum, I saved for them anyway using a rather quaint rule:
Every payday put away the same amount of cents as they are days old.
This was a TINY amount but I stuck it in a reward saver and didn't touch it. I used internet banking for the transaction so I didn't have to embarrass myself at the teller with the trivial amounts I was transferring... and of course, because the amounts were trivial, they were easy to let go of each week. My son is now eleven, the weekly payments are no longer as trivial (but thankfully I'm no longer as broke), and what started as a rather embarrassing award saver with less than one hundred dollars in it has grown to a cool seven grand in a high interest term deposit - all by putting away a few dollars a week and letting compound interest work its magic. That money is dipped into occasionally to get him special stuff, like the musical instrument of his choice and school camps. Now it's being used as part of a house deposit so I guess I'll have to give him part ownership of the house? Hmmm. Might be going a bit too far...
Saving is ace, the rewards are numerous and you don't need a massive paycheck to get started. The key is to put it away and don't touch it, even if it's as little as $2 on a regular basis. Teach your kids how, they will thank you later when they buy their x-box, or designer shoes, get a better car, go overseas.... I wish someone had taught me.
You will never regret teaching your kids how to save, pay bills and have money left over for nice things. Why? Ask any parent of a teenager who doesn't have those skills....
I negotiate pocket money with my 11yo. A portion goes straight to his personal account and he gets the rest as cash. 10% of any other money he gets also goes into his bank account. The only real rule is that I won't buy him junk food, toy weapons or video games, he uses his own money for that (right now he is hoarding cash to save for an X-Box 360). Meanwhile he gets to see his bank savings grow via the "Pay Yourself First" method of saving. You should have seen his face the first time he was paid interest - "The bank GAVE me money, just for keeping my money with them? WOW." I tell him this money is for later, for a gap year, or a car or whatever.
My parents told me nothing about money when I was growing up, so I make up for it now with spreadsheets, 13 bank accounts (each with a different purpose) and a system of automatic debits so complex that if I die without writing an instruction book it will take years to figure out what I was doing... Perhaps I over reacted...
You won't regret teaching your kids to save. Teaching them while they're in nappies is probably a bit early to my mind. Though when they were in nappies, and I was a broke single mum, I saved for them anyway using a rather quaint rule:
Every payday put away the same amount of cents as they are days old.
This was a TINY amount but I stuck it in a reward saver and didn't touch it. I used internet banking for the transaction so I didn't have to embarrass myself at the teller with the trivial amounts I was transferring... and of course, because the amounts were trivial, they were easy to let go of each week. My son is now eleven, the weekly payments are no longer as trivial (but thankfully I'm no longer as broke), and what started as a rather embarrassing award saver with less than one hundred dollars in it has grown to a cool seven grand in a high interest term deposit - all by putting away a few dollars a week and letting compound interest work its magic. That money is dipped into occasionally to get him special stuff, like the musical instrument of his choice and school camps. Now it's being used as part of a house deposit so I guess I'll have to give him part ownership of the house? Hmmm. Might be going a bit too far...
Saving is ace, the rewards are numerous and you don't need a massive paycheck to get started. The key is to put it away and don't touch it, even if it's as little as $2 on a regular basis. Teach your kids how, they will thank you later when they buy their x-box, or designer shoes, get a better car, go overseas.... I wish someone had taught me.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Cute way to recycle Milo tins
I must be getting housewife's brain if I'm constantly blogging about this stuff. I don't mind, I figure I need it. This is my brain holiday.
Milo is the only nestle product I buy and my son eats mountains of the stuff. We had a drought induced mouse plague last year and they got into everything that wasn't behind glass or metal. That's when I started using the tins for staples out of desperation. Now I quite like the look, it's green (well, greener than Tupperware), kind of rustic and post apocalyptic. Perfect for our Bad Mummy kitchen.
Things I do are:
1. When washing them for use I make sure ALL the water is removed. They rust at the drop of a hat (or water...).
2. I cut out the label from the bag of whatever staple it is and stick it to the tin, covering the whole label with clear sticky tape so that it doesn't get grotty. If I don't like the label, I use a strip of masking tape. This adds a bit of variety to the look.
Now I just wish my shelf was an inch wider...
Milo is the only nestle product I buy and my son eats mountains of the stuff. We had a drought induced mouse plague last year and they got into everything that wasn't behind glass or metal. That's when I started using the tins for staples out of desperation. Now I quite like the look, it's green (well, greener than Tupperware), kind of rustic and post apocalyptic. Perfect for our Bad Mummy kitchen.
Things I do are:
1. When washing them for use I make sure ALL the water is removed. They rust at the drop of a hat (or water...).
2. I cut out the label from the bag of whatever staple it is and stick it to the tin, covering the whole label with clear sticky tape so that it doesn't get grotty. If I don't like the label, I use a strip of masking tape. This adds a bit of variety to the look.
Now I just wish my shelf was an inch wider...
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
What to do if you over-do the herbs in the pasta sauce.
I just had to blog this, it's typical of a Bad Mummy Deed.
I was making a family favourite (and one of the ways I get my husband to consume fish) - creamy smoked salmon pasta sauce - when I drifted off during the cooking and tipped half a jar of dried thyme into it. Not good, unless you like your pasta sauces to taste like cattle fodder and have the texture of a mouthful of pins. Here's how I solved the problem:
1. Swirl the sauce so that the thyme coats the side of the pan.
2. Wipe off the thyme that stuck to the sides with tissue. Make sure there is a thick wad of tissue between your fingers and the pan if you like your hands to be burn-free.
3. Repeat as necessary.
These photos were taken after about five wipes so it's not nearly as green as it was when I started.
The tissues will look like you've been nursing an echidna with the flu, your bin will be gross, but the pasta sauce will be back to fabulous.
It is handy on these occasions to have a professional mess-maker (toddler) around. This is so when your husband comes home, looks in the bin and cries, "For the love of god what IS this FOULNESS???" you can say, "Ask your daughter!" You are then off the hook unless he says, "No really..."
I was making a family favourite (and one of the ways I get my husband to consume fish) - creamy smoked salmon pasta sauce - when I drifted off during the cooking and tipped half a jar of dried thyme into it. Not good, unless you like your pasta sauces to taste like cattle fodder and have the texture of a mouthful of pins. Here's how I solved the problem:
1. Swirl the sauce so that the thyme coats the side of the pan.
2. Wipe off the thyme that stuck to the sides with tissue. Make sure there is a thick wad of tissue between your fingers and the pan if you like your hands to be burn-free.
3. Repeat as necessary.
These photos were taken after about five wipes so it's not nearly as green as it was when I started.
The tissues will look like you've been nursing an echidna with the flu, your bin will be gross, but the pasta sauce will be back to fabulous.
It is handy on these occasions to have a professional mess-maker (toddler) around. This is so when your husband comes home, looks in the bin and cries, "For the love of god what IS this FOULNESS???" you can say, "Ask your daughter!" You are then off the hook unless he says, "No really..."
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Quilting, especially oversewing. Tips for rank beginners from an uninitiate.
Yes I know. The noun "Uninitiate" is taking extreme liberties with the English language. It's my turn ok?
Things I've learnt from my first quilt:
1. If the ladies at quilting class tell you that your first project is a single bed sized quilt tell them politely to get stuffed and make a cot quilt. A single bed sized quilt is far too big for a beginner and becomes overwhelming. Get yourself a quick taste of success and do something small. If you don't know any babies make a cot quilt and give it to the cluckiest woman of reproductive age that you know - or you could make a table runner.
2. If you capitulate and decide to make a huge quilt make sure you have a huge table to work on. If you don't have one, buy one. If you're not going to buy a larger table you are going to be doing a lot of your work on the floor, so, join a gym. This is so that you can get onto your knees and back to standing up again at least a hundred times in an afternoon without needing a Radox bath and a massage afterwards.
3. If you decide to make a huge quilt do not oversew it yourself no matter how expensive professional oversewing seems to be. If you like the finished look of your patchwork try to remember that you stand a good chance of wrecking it if you do your own quilting. Like I did! :-( If you do oversew yourself, keep it simple: long straight lines only starting from the middle and working out. I tried to complicate things and have ruined my first quilt. This is heartbreaking after all the effort that went into putting it together!!!
4. If you've ignored all my sage advice so far and still want to do some complicated oversewing I have more things to say that might put you off. Don't. Don't do it. No really. Don't.
Didn't work? *sigh* read on then.
A large quilt is extremely heavy and has to be rolled or scrunched up in order to fit under your sewing machine arm:
With a quilt this size and a sewing machine this size turning the quilt is going to be a bitch if not impossible so you are mostly limited to straight lines especially in the centre of the quilt where your rolled up portion will be thickest.
If you do not have a huge table, the heavy rolled up portions drag all over the place driving you nuts. You will need an assortment of chairs scattered around your tiny table to take the weight and the patience to sew in very short bursts, readjusting the quilt after each burst.
If you do not have a walking foot, you need to keep a huge amount of pressure on the quilt to ensure the top moves at the same rate as the bottom. This gets harder and harder as you go along. Your arms and back will be sore. You will be grumpy. Quilting will not be fun.
Some more sage advice for stubborn, bloody-minded beginner home oversewers based on my experience:
Don't oversew your quilt. You're still ignoring me aren't you?
If this is your first patchworking effort it is likely that there will be some not so straight spots. In this case, DON'T attempt to quilt by stitching in the ditch. This will magnify every single crooked patch in your work. (My own quilt has every single crooked bit magnified because I thought it would be easier to follow the seam lines. Pha!!)
If you've made a quilt with contrasting light and dark patches (as I have) no matter what colour you choose for the oversewing your mistakes will stand out. Either the light thread on dark fabric mistakes or the dark thread on light fabric mistakes.
If you're still thinking of doing some complicated oversewing on a home machine with a large quilt for your first quilt, good luck to you. I'll see you in rehab. :-( Personally it's the most difficult and cumbersome piece of sewing I've ever taken on and I'm going beyond back of burke crazy with it. Hopefully I've put you off completely and you are frantically googling for professional oversewers....
Things I've learnt from my first quilt:
1. If the ladies at quilting class tell you that your first project is a single bed sized quilt tell them politely to get stuffed and make a cot quilt. A single bed sized quilt is far too big for a beginner and becomes overwhelming. Get yourself a quick taste of success and do something small. If you don't know any babies make a cot quilt and give it to the cluckiest woman of reproductive age that you know - or you could make a table runner.
2. If you capitulate and decide to make a huge quilt make sure you have a huge table to work on. If you don't have one, buy one. If you're not going to buy a larger table you are going to be doing a lot of your work on the floor, so, join a gym. This is so that you can get onto your knees and back to standing up again at least a hundred times in an afternoon without needing a Radox bath and a massage afterwards.
3. If you decide to make a huge quilt do not oversew it yourself no matter how expensive professional oversewing seems to be. If you like the finished look of your patchwork try to remember that you stand a good chance of wrecking it if you do your own quilting. Like I did! :-( If you do oversew yourself, keep it simple: long straight lines only starting from the middle and working out. I tried to complicate things and have ruined my first quilt. This is heartbreaking after all the effort that went into putting it together!!!
4. If you've ignored all my sage advice so far and still want to do some complicated oversewing I have more things to say that might put you off. Don't. Don't do it. No really. Don't.
Didn't work? *sigh* read on then.
A large quilt is extremely heavy and has to be rolled or scrunched up in order to fit under your sewing machine arm:
With a quilt this size and a sewing machine this size turning the quilt is going to be a bitch if not impossible so you are mostly limited to straight lines especially in the centre of the quilt where your rolled up portion will be thickest.
If you do not have a huge table, the heavy rolled up portions drag all over the place driving you nuts. You will need an assortment of chairs scattered around your tiny table to take the weight and the patience to sew in very short bursts, readjusting the quilt after each burst.
If you do not have a walking foot, you need to keep a huge amount of pressure on the quilt to ensure the top moves at the same rate as the bottom. This gets harder and harder as you go along. Your arms and back will be sore. You will be grumpy. Quilting will not be fun.
Some more sage advice for stubborn, bloody-minded beginner home oversewers based on my experience:
Don't oversew your quilt. You're still ignoring me aren't you?
If this is your first patchworking effort it is likely that there will be some not so straight spots. In this case, DON'T attempt to quilt by stitching in the ditch. This will magnify every single crooked patch in your work. (My own quilt has every single crooked bit magnified because I thought it would be easier to follow the seam lines. Pha!!)
If you've made a quilt with contrasting light and dark patches (as I have) no matter what colour you choose for the oversewing your mistakes will stand out. Either the light thread on dark fabric mistakes or the dark thread on light fabric mistakes.
If you're still thinking of doing some complicated oversewing on a home machine with a large quilt for your first quilt, good luck to you. I'll see you in rehab. :-( Personally it's the most difficult and cumbersome piece of sewing I've ever taken on and I'm going beyond back of burke crazy with it. Hopefully I've put you off completely and you are frantically googling for professional oversewers....
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Bad Mummy is at the airport.
Today marks the blackest day of the holidays for me. It's the one where my son travels interstate as an unaccompanied minor to see his father. Not that I don't want my son to see his dad, far from it. He likes it, his dad likes it, they bond and stuff. The bit I don't like is the part where my son's welfare is suddenly out of my hands for a week.
Control freak?
Yes.
Sue me.
Being a control freak I am now a veteran when it comes to delivering unaccompanied minors unto airlines while coping with the company of fractious toddlers. These are the rules:
Only after his little pink face has left with the gaggle of other minors (there's always a group of them) can I let myself succumb to the guilt-monger in my head. The one that scolds me for abandoning him. The one that berates me, "If you'd only been organised about your life he wouldn't have to do this!" The voice that lists a thousand things that could go wrong while I'm not there. The voice that tells me that he's your good one, your little joker, helper, entertainer, argumentative, imaginative bright spark and you've let him get on a plane alone. What were you thinking???
He must be only a few feet away really, sitting on the plane I can see through the window, but already there is a gaping hole in my side. This wound will remain raw and weeping all week. I try not to cry.
Control freak?
Yes.
Sue me.
Being a control freak I am now a veteran when it comes to delivering unaccompanied minors unto airlines while coping with the company of fractious toddlers. These are the rules:
1. The airline will tell you to arrive two hours early. Ignore them. Arrive the usual one hour early or you'll face an hour with a bored and somewhat stressed child for company. In my case, I'd also have a bored and restless toddler who fails to see the point of sitting still in airport lounges. She has the vocal prowess of Joan Sutherland singing a high A, only with more stamina than Joan.
2. Write down all your ex partner's details before you leave or you will have to make embarrassing phone calls at check in while the airline staff eye you suspiciously. It also helps if the airline have got the name of your offspring correct, but that tends to be out of your hands.
3. On cold days you may be tempted to wear bulky jackets. Don't. You will invariably be bomb sniffed and toddlers don't like to wait around while you're checked for explosives.
4. Take a pram that can fold up umbrella style and go through the x-rays or no pram at all, otherwise you will be redirected to the wheelchair entry where you will wait for an eternity with the protesting toddler for your pram to be inadequately fondled by strangers. The only time this happened I felt slightly ill.
5. You will be tempted to take the nappy bag for the toddler. Don't. The less you have to take through airport security the better. Take ONE nappy and ONE bag of wipes wrapped in a change mat. This can fold up into the pram when it whizzes through the x-ray, and your hands will be left free to deal with the toddler who thought she was being let out of the pram to run around - when a two year old express her disappointment that her bids for freedom are being thwarted she expresses it to all and sundry, minimise the damage by traveling light and moving away fast.
6. Once you're in, buy the kids iced chocolates. This will get you at least half an hour of quiet while they eat ice cream with a straw. If other parents glare or glance disparagingly at you for giving a two year old such a rich treat I recommend a stony glare back along with wishing them a demon child for their next one. They don't know you're doing them a huge favour by keeping your little blitzkrieg distracted.
7. When it's time to say goodbye to the minor who is going, don't, whatever you do, let the guilty gibbering worrier inside you have a voice. Your child doesn't need to know that you're secretly afraid you're never going to see him again. Be cheery, tell him to spend his money on food instead of hoarding it like a miser, to have fun, and that you'll see him in a week.
Finally, the last rule:
8. After the minors have boarded and you're hanging around waiting for take off, thou shalt not look the other parents in the eye. In this case, pain shared is pain magnified, and pain magnified leads to public sobbing. Keep your haunted look to yourself. Trust me when I say the other parents have it too, you don't have to check.
Only after his little pink face has left with the gaggle of other minors (there's always a group of them) can I let myself succumb to the guilt-monger in my head. The one that scolds me for abandoning him. The one that berates me, "If you'd only been organised about your life he wouldn't have to do this!" The voice that lists a thousand things that could go wrong while I'm not there. The voice that tells me that he's your good one, your little joker, helper, entertainer, argumentative, imaginative bright spark and you've let him get on a plane alone. What were you thinking???
He must be only a few feet away really, sitting on the plane I can see through the window, but already there is a gaping hole in my side. This wound will remain raw and weeping all week. I try not to cry.
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Where to park the pram in the disabled toilets
Occasionally, when I'm at a shopping centre by myself and desperate for the loo, I take my daughter - pram and all - into the disabled toilet.
There is a certain amount of guilt associated with this practise. I'm not disabled, and neither is my daughter. However, I alleviate said guilt with this reasoning:
1: I would not want to go to the toilet in a parent's room where people also go to breast feed their babies. Yuk. (Yuk for the breast feeding mothers, that is.) Shopping centers that put toilets in rooms for breast feeding have missed the point entirely I reckon. One room for poo, one room for food is how it should be. The best set up I've seen (I forget where) had a living room type arrangement with coffee tables and magazines (with some screened off alcoves for the seriously shy), and the toilet and nappy changing facilities were in their own room off to the side. Also, the toilets were big enough to take a pram/gaggle of kids in with you if you needed to. Lovely, perfect, and unfortunately rare.
2: I do not want to leave the stroller with my baby, and my shopping in a public toilet where I cannot keep an eye on them while I relieve myself in a tiny cubicle, and I'm too shy to make leaving the cubicle door open an option. Unloading child and shopping and taking it all into the tiny cubicle with me is also not an option.
So, I wheel the lot into the disabled toilet and do my business in peace, giving my daughter a bonus lesson in toilet decorum.
The thing to remember though, when you're using one of those automated disabled toilets is, Never, Never, NEVER, park the pram near the button that automatically opens the toilet door. I did this today. Nuff said.
There is a certain amount of guilt associated with this practise. I'm not disabled, and neither is my daughter. However, I alleviate said guilt with this reasoning:
1: I would not want to go to the toilet in a parent's room where people also go to breast feed their babies. Yuk. (Yuk for the breast feeding mothers, that is.) Shopping centers that put toilets in rooms for breast feeding have missed the point entirely I reckon. One room for poo, one room for food is how it should be. The best set up I've seen (I forget where) had a living room type arrangement with coffee tables and magazines (with some screened off alcoves for the seriously shy), and the toilet and nappy changing facilities were in their own room off to the side. Also, the toilets were big enough to take a pram/gaggle of kids in with you if you needed to. Lovely, perfect, and unfortunately rare.
2: I do not want to leave the stroller with my baby, and my shopping in a public toilet where I cannot keep an eye on them while I relieve myself in a tiny cubicle, and I'm too shy to make leaving the cubicle door open an option. Unloading child and shopping and taking it all into the tiny cubicle with me is also not an option.
So, I wheel the lot into the disabled toilet and do my business in peace, giving my daughter a bonus lesson in toilet decorum.
The thing to remember though, when you're using one of those automated disabled toilets is, Never, Never, NEVER, park the pram near the button that automatically opens the toilet door. I did this today. Nuff said.
Friday, January 11, 2008
For Professional First Time Parents, with love
After a quick search on the web for articles to help out a stressed out new dad I know, I couldn’t find exactly what I wanted. So I wrote this for him. Sorry if it’s a bit rough!
Good parents tend to be 100% relaxed, patient, and have a healthy sense of humour centered on bodily excreta. They never complain, always look chipper and their kitchens resemble an Ikea showroom.
Bollocks.
No parent, no matter what kind of show they’re putting on for their friends, is 100% serene Julie Andrews from Sound of Music. Parents in the know are all secretly aiming for one thing - “Good Enough Parenting” (Shhh! You didn’t hear that from me!). In order to get there, sometimes it helps to remember that good parents aren’t like on TV, that nobody ever knows how hard it is until they’ve done it, that a lot of your friends with kids probably made it look easier than it really is, and that perhaps your expectations were a little high.
Unrealistic expectations are, I’m afraid, a bog ordinary occurrence for first time parents. With my first little charmer, I thought I’d do my exams while eight and a half months pregnant, have by baby in the holidays and be back at Uni for second semester one week later! As you can probably imagine, that plan didn’t work out to well. I ended up so stressed, tired and out of my mind that I threw my precious bundle in a fit of frustration. To be fair, I didn’t throw him very far, and I made sure he landed on something nice and soft. But I still threw him, and I still cringe inside when I think about it. To this day I fervently wish that I’d known then what I know now, so, perk up your ears…
One of the biggest problems new parents seem to have, the one that pops up on blogs and chat rooms all over the world, the one that most good parenting books now devote at least one, if not their first chapter to (believe it or not I’ve actually checked this - don’t ask) is the Bad Bad Parent syndrome, or as I like to call it The Bad Parent Guilt Cycle. The Bad Parent Guilt Cycle is born of expecting far too much from oneself and is most common in professionals who, pre-baby, were very much in control of their lives. These parents beat themselves up for not living up to their own (frankly naive) expectations. They berate themselves with the same zeal and passion for success that they put into their working lives, so they're usually quite successful at reducing themselves to a stressed out blathering mess of weepy guilt and low self esteem. Of course, this doesn't fit their picture of the perfect parents they know they should and can be so they beat themselves up some more... and so begins the Bad Parent Guilt Cycle.
This situation would be bad enough in itself if it weren't compounded by a life shattering new addition to your family who is renown for being sensitive to the mood of the carer. The worse off you are emotionally, the more the little bleater is going to be unsettled, and thus the new addition adds it's contribution to the cycle. You can't settle the little screamer and you beat yourself up some more...
Fear not. There is a cure. It's called coming down from your perfect parent fantasy cloud and being nicer to yourself about stuff. This is harder than it sounds. This is because the desire to be a good parent is for the most part a biological imperative and that's a strong current to swim against. You'll just have to trust me that if you try, you'll end up a better parent.
Here is my list of things you probably beat yourself up about, and probably shouldn’t.
YOU’RE NOT A BAD PARENT IF:
The dishes/clothes/floors etc aren’t done - if you’re sane and the baby is thriving you’re doing a fantastic job. Remember in the good old days you’d be surrounded by grannies and aunts who would swoop in and take over the household chores for a bit
You start giving the pets less attention and develop a neanderthal urge to protect your offspring from them - this feeling will pass and as long as your pets are fed and watered they will survive it
You feel tired 100% of the time - well der
The sleep deprivation makes you bad tempered - sleep deprivation is a form of torture, of course you’re bad tempered
You can’t stop your baby crying - sometimes babies don’t want to stop crying, try thinking of the beautifully healthy lungs your little charmer is developing
You accidentally let your baby sit in a pooey nappy for more than ten minutes - stop beating yourself up! With disposables the way they are these days, you have to actively TRY to get a case of nappy rash, you’d have to let them sit in their poo all day for a few days running, life is hard enough, don’t internally harangue yourself over harmless slip ups. If you need perspective as to what harmless is, call someone sensible
You don’t bath your baby for a few days - as long as a baby’s creases are wiped, they can go for ages without immersion in water
You call a friend and ask them to take your baby for a walk to the park for an hour so that you can sleep - this is not abandonment, this is looking after yourself so that you can be a better parent
…Aaand here is my list of don’ts. I’m guilty of all of them myself….
YOU COULD IMPROVE AS A PARENT IF:
You refuse all help and insist on going it alone, this is not only unnatural for humans; it’s bad for your mental health and therefore bad for your baby.
You blame yourself for the baby’s incessant tears
You blame yourself for not coping with the tiredness
You blame yourself for the baby’s latest spots, rashes, runny nose or hiccups
You blame yourself for being powerless to help the baby feel better
You blame yourself for anything really - beating yourself up about things you can’t control makes you feel worse and wastes energy perpetuating the harmful guilt cycle. The guilt cycles make for bad tempered depressed parents and such parents make for fretful babies. Use the energy you’re putting into beating yourself up to break the guilt cycle (see below)
TIPS TO BREAK THE BAD PARENT GUILT CYCLE:
1. You need to put energy into looking after yourself in order to have energy to look after a baby. Spending a little energy sowing the seeds for your rest time results in a bumper harvest of energy for parenting. Just think, if all the energy that was going into beating yourself up for being a stressed parent was redirected into using your resources to organise rest time, you might end up less stressed and break the cycle. Some useful resources are:
a) get relatives or friends to take the baby for a walk (at least an hour), they’ll be thrilled at the privilege and you’ll be able to sleep. If you’re worried your precious gem will be starved and abused, express milk and make sure the person is trained in nappy changing
b) request food from friends, or get to like baked beans on toast, remember that relinquishing the gourmet lifestyle is temporary sacrifice that will give you more time for sleep and make you a better parent, use delivery services, most local grocers have one now, if your local doesn’t, offer them a delivery fee (average seemed to be $15 last time I checked) you might be their first delivery customer! Coles Online is also adequate for things like shampoo and baby powder (though I don’t know anyone who uses that anymore)
c) if someone offers to do something say YES or rather, YES PLEASE. Delegate, delegate, delegate. Teach friends who drop in how you do your dishes so that next time they can hop in without asking. If they’re going to the shops put in an order. Your priority is sleeping so that you can be a relaxed parent, your priorities are not martyrdom or superparenting - leave that to the loonies. It might help to remember that a lot of people like doing stuff for people with new babies, it gives them a sense of participation and importance (think of it as boosting your friends’ self esteem). Personally I think this sense is as hardwired as maternal hormones, a village survival instinct.
d) perspective is everything, if you think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, pick up the phone and ask someone you trust (my cousin called several people and took a kind of poll once - whatever works)
AND FINALLY THE SANITY SAVER:
3. Babies have a basic set of needs, food, comfort (dry and warm), and human contact (cuddles). If you’ve met all these and they’re still crying, AND you think you’re about to lose it, the following steps have helped millions of parents:
a. do what you need to do to ensure they’re not sick (take their temperature, call another parent, nurse online, your doctor, maternal health, whatever it takes to reassure YOU)
b. stick them safely in their cot, where they can wail to their hearts content (remove teddy’s and blankets so you know they can’t thrash, roll and smother - you need to know that your little critter will be safe)
c. make yourself a cup of tea, warm milk, or whatever your poison, alcohol is not recommended for people who are already stressed out - sorry!
d. go out into the garden or somewhere where the crying is but a faint reminder of the little charmer’s existence (it sounds odd, but make sure you can still HEAR them, this reassures you that the little blighter is quite alive and healthy and you can relax knowing that if they’re capable of that much noise, they’re not at death’s door)
e. sit, lie down, do yoga, sniff the new lime flowers, pull a few weeds, admire the clouds, stand in the rain, whatever works for you
f. drink tea, sip slowly, try to think about something else, this is YOUR tea time. If you can’t think about something else, pretend to, you’ll be amazed how often that actually works. The cup of tea is important because it gives a time frame for the rest, if you’re fretting about leaving your little critter to cry (let’s face it, who doesn’t fret about it? Those who say they don't are lying IMHO), finishing the cup of tea gives you a “time to go back” and enforces the break. Scalding hot tea that is gulped down like a yardglass of beer on graduation night doesn’t count as a rest!
g. don’t go back until you feel recharged and able to cope, or they’ve stopped crying. The reason for the latter criteria is that if they’re quiet you’re going to want to check that they’re ok. You might be pleasantly surprised to find that your little charmer has gone off to sleep without you! If they don’t stop crying, definitely don’t go back until you feel up to being the patient, loving and comforting parent you want to be.
These steps save lives. If you feel you’re about to explode (and what new parent hasn’t felt it?) being a good parent means recognising the signs and removing yourself from the situation - PRONTO.
That’s it. My times up, my own little cutie is awake. Hope it’s helped! Good luck, and remember, call me if you need something, you’ll do wonders for my self esteem ☺
Good parents tend to be 100% relaxed, patient, and have a healthy sense of humour centered on bodily excreta. They never complain, always look chipper and their kitchens resemble an Ikea showroom.
Bollocks.
No parent, no matter what kind of show they’re putting on for their friends, is 100% serene Julie Andrews from Sound of Music. Parents in the know are all secretly aiming for one thing - “Good Enough Parenting” (Shhh! You didn’t hear that from me!). In order to get there, sometimes it helps to remember that good parents aren’t like on TV, that nobody ever knows how hard it is until they’ve done it, that a lot of your friends with kids probably made it look easier than it really is, and that perhaps your expectations were a little high.
Unrealistic expectations are, I’m afraid, a bog ordinary occurrence for first time parents. With my first little charmer, I thought I’d do my exams while eight and a half months pregnant, have by baby in the holidays and be back at Uni for second semester one week later! As you can probably imagine, that plan didn’t work out to well. I ended up so stressed, tired and out of my mind that I threw my precious bundle in a fit of frustration. To be fair, I didn’t throw him very far, and I made sure he landed on something nice and soft. But I still threw him, and I still cringe inside when I think about it. To this day I fervently wish that I’d known then what I know now, so, perk up your ears…
One of the biggest problems new parents seem to have, the one that pops up on blogs and chat rooms all over the world, the one that most good parenting books now devote at least one, if not their first chapter to (believe it or not I’ve actually checked this - don’t ask) is the Bad Bad Parent syndrome, or as I like to call it The Bad Parent Guilt Cycle. The Bad Parent Guilt Cycle is born of expecting far too much from oneself and is most common in professionals who, pre-baby, were very much in control of their lives. These parents beat themselves up for not living up to their own (frankly naive) expectations. They berate themselves with the same zeal and passion for success that they put into their working lives, so they're usually quite successful at reducing themselves to a stressed out blathering mess of weepy guilt and low self esteem. Of course, this doesn't fit their picture of the perfect parents they know they should and can be so they beat themselves up some more... and so begins the Bad Parent Guilt Cycle.
This situation would be bad enough in itself if it weren't compounded by a life shattering new addition to your family who is renown for being sensitive to the mood of the carer. The worse off you are emotionally, the more the little bleater is going to be unsettled, and thus the new addition adds it's contribution to the cycle. You can't settle the little screamer and you beat yourself up some more...
Fear not. There is a cure. It's called coming down from your perfect parent fantasy cloud and being nicer to yourself about stuff. This is harder than it sounds. This is because the desire to be a good parent is for the most part a biological imperative and that's a strong current to swim against. You'll just have to trust me that if you try, you'll end up a better parent.
Here is my list of things you probably beat yourself up about, and probably shouldn’t.
YOU’RE NOT A BAD PARENT IF:
The dishes/clothes/floors etc aren’t done - if you’re sane and the baby is thriving you’re doing a fantastic job. Remember in the good old days you’d be surrounded by grannies and aunts who would swoop in and take over the household chores for a bit
You start giving the pets less attention and develop a neanderthal urge to protect your offspring from them - this feeling will pass and as long as your pets are fed and watered they will survive it
You feel tired 100% of the time - well der
The sleep deprivation makes you bad tempered - sleep deprivation is a form of torture, of course you’re bad tempered
You can’t stop your baby crying - sometimes babies don’t want to stop crying, try thinking of the beautifully healthy lungs your little charmer is developing
You accidentally let your baby sit in a pooey nappy for more than ten minutes - stop beating yourself up! With disposables the way they are these days, you have to actively TRY to get a case of nappy rash, you’d have to let them sit in their poo all day for a few days running, life is hard enough, don’t internally harangue yourself over harmless slip ups. If you need perspective as to what harmless is, call someone sensible
You don’t bath your baby for a few days - as long as a baby’s creases are wiped, they can go for ages without immersion in water
You call a friend and ask them to take your baby for a walk to the park for an hour so that you can sleep - this is not abandonment, this is looking after yourself so that you can be a better parent
…Aaand here is my list of don’ts. I’m guilty of all of them myself….
YOU COULD IMPROVE AS A PARENT IF:
You refuse all help and insist on going it alone, this is not only unnatural for humans; it’s bad for your mental health and therefore bad for your baby.
You blame yourself for the baby’s incessant tears
You blame yourself for not coping with the tiredness
You blame yourself for the baby’s latest spots, rashes, runny nose or hiccups
You blame yourself for being powerless to help the baby feel better
You blame yourself for anything really - beating yourself up about things you can’t control makes you feel worse and wastes energy perpetuating the harmful guilt cycle. The guilt cycles make for bad tempered depressed parents and such parents make for fretful babies. Use the energy you’re putting into beating yourself up to break the guilt cycle (see below)
TIPS TO BREAK THE BAD PARENT GUILT CYCLE:
1. You need to put energy into looking after yourself in order to have energy to look after a baby. Spending a little energy sowing the seeds for your rest time results in a bumper harvest of energy for parenting. Just think, if all the energy that was going into beating yourself up for being a stressed parent was redirected into using your resources to organise rest time, you might end up less stressed and break the cycle. Some useful resources are:
a) get relatives or friends to take the baby for a walk (at least an hour), they’ll be thrilled at the privilege and you’ll be able to sleep. If you’re worried your precious gem will be starved and abused, express milk and make sure the person is trained in nappy changing
b) request food from friends, or get to like baked beans on toast, remember that relinquishing the gourmet lifestyle is temporary sacrifice that will give you more time for sleep and make you a better parent, use delivery services, most local grocers have one now, if your local doesn’t, offer them a delivery fee (average seemed to be $15 last time I checked) you might be their first delivery customer! Coles Online is also adequate for things like shampoo and baby powder (though I don’t know anyone who uses that anymore)
c) if someone offers to do something say YES or rather, YES PLEASE. Delegate, delegate, delegate. Teach friends who drop in how you do your dishes so that next time they can hop in without asking. If they’re going to the shops put in an order. Your priority is sleeping so that you can be a relaxed parent, your priorities are not martyrdom or superparenting - leave that to the loonies. It might help to remember that a lot of people like doing stuff for people with new babies, it gives them a sense of participation and importance (think of it as boosting your friends’ self esteem). Personally I think this sense is as hardwired as maternal hormones, a village survival instinct.
d) perspective is everything, if you think you’re making a mountain out of a molehill, pick up the phone and ask someone you trust (my cousin called several people and took a kind of poll once - whatever works)
AND FINALLY THE SANITY SAVER:
3. Babies have a basic set of needs, food, comfort (dry and warm), and human contact (cuddles). If you’ve met all these and they’re still crying, AND you think you’re about to lose it, the following steps have helped millions of parents:
a. do what you need to do to ensure they’re not sick (take their temperature, call another parent, nurse online, your doctor, maternal health, whatever it takes to reassure YOU)
b. stick them safely in their cot, where they can wail to their hearts content (remove teddy’s and blankets so you know they can’t thrash, roll and smother - you need to know that your little critter will be safe)
c. make yourself a cup of tea, warm milk, or whatever your poison, alcohol is not recommended for people who are already stressed out - sorry!
d. go out into the garden or somewhere where the crying is but a faint reminder of the little charmer’s existence (it sounds odd, but make sure you can still HEAR them, this reassures you that the little blighter is quite alive and healthy and you can relax knowing that if they’re capable of that much noise, they’re not at death’s door)
e. sit, lie down, do yoga, sniff the new lime flowers, pull a few weeds, admire the clouds, stand in the rain, whatever works for you
f. drink tea, sip slowly, try to think about something else, this is YOUR tea time. If you can’t think about something else, pretend to, you’ll be amazed how often that actually works. The cup of tea is important because it gives a time frame for the rest, if you’re fretting about leaving your little critter to cry (let’s face it, who doesn’t fret about it? Those who say they don't are lying IMHO), finishing the cup of tea gives you a “time to go back” and enforces the break. Scalding hot tea that is gulped down like a yardglass of beer on graduation night doesn’t count as a rest!
g. don’t go back until you feel recharged and able to cope, or they’ve stopped crying. The reason for the latter criteria is that if they’re quiet you’re going to want to check that they’re ok. You might be pleasantly surprised to find that your little charmer has gone off to sleep without you! If they don’t stop crying, definitely don’t go back until you feel up to being the patient, loving and comforting parent you want to be.
These steps save lives. If you feel you’re about to explode (and what new parent hasn’t felt it?) being a good parent means recognising the signs and removing yourself from the situation - PRONTO.
That’s it. My times up, my own little cutie is awake. Hope it’s helped! Good luck, and remember, call me if you need something, you’ll do wonders for my self esteem ☺
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