Archive for May, 2009

 

I’ve joined a cult

Tuesday, May 26th, 2009

… but don’t tell anyone. I have been attending classes through the Art of Living Foundation, learning life philosophies and how to breathe and meditate.

It’s not really a cult but I was accused of joining one when I told a friend about how fabulous I was feeling … and why. It happened to be a friend who, in the same conversation, told me that he and his wife were having a baby … their second.

I can’t help but wonder if the two-child family is in fact the biggest cult in the world. My cult involves waking up at 5 a.m. and doing a few yoga stretches followed by a combination of breathing exercises … a low-impact fix. His errs quite considerably on the higher end of the impact spectrum. There is such a need to join this ‘club’ that consenting adults dive into it without giving a thought to the logistics and the impact on everything and everyone around.

Is the need to procreate so great in some people that they just can’t help themselves, or are they just trying to keep up with the proverbial Jones’s who are the epitome of convention? Don’t forget the Jones’s also have a home that’s too big for them and far too many cars and credit cards. Their wardrobe’s pretty hot though.

Safe baby dumping

Monday, May 25th, 2009

Yes, I realise how absurd that sounds but there is a company that has set up a system whereby a mother can deposit her unwanted baby in a box: as she places the baby inside, a message goes out to relevant people and, within five minutes, someone arrives to take care of the baby.

I am involved in a project called the Hero Book Project (look at digitalherobook.org) to get a general idea of what it’s all about) and today I was told by a scared and confused 8-year-old that she had seen police arrive in her community to take photos of a dismembered baby someone had found stuffed into a metal drum. She described it to me in great detail and explained how, when she told her father about it, he had rushed off to check if it was her baby sister.

To put the frequency of this problem into perspective, the same story was told by an adult at the school but told in such a way that it sounded more like a common inconvenience than something that only happens rarely enough to make a big deal out of it. If I am honest, I can compare it to my annoyance at hearing that another person had thrown themselves under the train on the Underground … upsetting only because it meant I would be late for work.

But I digress. For most of you reading this post, the idea is too horrific to confront and think about, but please spread the website … and the word … because no one really knows how desperate a woman can be when faced with the prospect of an unwanted child.

Baby dumping is not an issue that can be ignored. And finally there is an organisation that has taken on the task of really dealing with it by providing mothers with an alternative. The only way any organisation like this can truly work is through input and support so please log onto thebabysafe and see how you can help.

Egalitarian running

Saturday, May 23rd, 2009

I’ve just come out of the running season – for me it never extends into the raining winter months because running in gloves, a beanie and three layers of clothing just totally destroys any roadie cred … Capetonians are hardcore judgemental about these things.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was training for the Two Oceans half marathon … yes, a big yawn for everyone who has heard me harping on about that one before … so I was already four or five months pregnant when I stopped running and my biggest stress was how I was ever going to be able to take it up again after the birth. Giving birth in September helped a lot … not that we can plan these things, if any … because I expressed milk first thing in the morning and headed out for my run before hubby had to head off for work. But as the months went by, the best buy ever was the Jeep 3-wheeler which is light, comfy and even has a CD player attachment to calm down any hysterical baby on hair-raising off-road trails.

So I eventually got to take baby out in the pram and there is no denying how damn tough that was – the arms are seriously under-rated running appendages and not having the use of them when struggling to get fit again post-pregnancy was excruciating. It, therefore, wasn’t long before I had recruited the husband and the dog to join the child and me on these post-pregnancy training runs. The decision was who got to pull the dog and who got to push the pram … no surprises there then that the pram was swiftly handed off to the husband. I thought I got the last laugh but it didn’t take long to realise that pulling a very sniffy 50kg dog along a pet-infested Promenade was possibly the least clever of my manipulations.

Having said that though, it turned out sniffy provided good enough strength training to improve on my half marathon time. Out of desperation to race last season and not having anyone to look after my child, I eventually screamed into a pillow, loaded the Jeep into my car and managed a couple of very speedy short races … the Jeep provided me with a very efficient battering ram – I ran down several fellow racers and earned my child his very first silver and bronze medals.

Separate Lives

Friday, May 22nd, 2009

Kahlil Gibran, in The Prophet, wrote that in marriage you should have spaces in your togetherness and that you should not stand too near together.

But what happens when your separateness is more frequent than your togetherness? What happens when your branches and your roots grow so far apart that they forget they belong to the same tree? It is no wonder the divorce rate seems to soar at the age when people have toddlers. It’s sometimes just easier to chop the tree down that navigate your way back to the trunk.

A lot of people are fine with separate lives – it works for them. I don’t see the point. For better or for worse, a relationship should be the thing that binds the family. Without that in place, what is the point … what really is the point in being together?

Cinderella Sucks

Thursday, May 21st, 2009

I’m brash, I’m loud, I say anything and everything that comes to mind without first thinking about it … and people often wonder why. Is nothing private any more? I honestly can’t say. What I can say, however, is that when you come out of hospital after a birth – whether that is vaginal or sunroof – and you have had your bits exposed and your guts on the table, nothing can ever be sacred again. I made a pact and I’m sticking to it: if it’s not out there, it’s not real. I’m not a fairy tale kinda gal so if you want happy endings, you need to navigate back to Google and search again.

Travelling around

Wednesday, May 20th, 2009

If I had to compare my family to a country, it would have to be England: so mild that anything extreme tears it apart. My marriage on the other hand is like India: it simultaneously tugs and pushes away until I am not sure whether I love it or hate it.

The art of separateness

Tuesday, May 19th, 2009

I have two children … one is a cuddly 3-year-old boy and the other is a 50kg Ridgeback. I feel like a teenager when I want a bit of privacy with my husband because we have to sneak around if we want so much as a private hug. If Nic sees us, he reaches up and demands a group hug and if Jama, sees us he just pushes between our legs and stands there wagging his tail.

A friend of mine asked my advice about training a new puppy and I told her to use her skills she has learned being a mother. I take that back as I obviously did something seriously wrong at puppy school.

Commando

Monday, May 18th, 2009

You have got to be kidding! It’s Monday … that in itself is reason enough to be moody … and my limits have been tested already … and it’s not only 9 a.m. Just when I though I was over the morning’s hurdles, I arrived at my child’s school to find a party invitation to a Boot Camp. I have spent the better part of three years ensuring that my child does not fall into any stereotyping traps and … so far so good. And now this. You can’t be serious! In normal circumstances I would just turf the invite and he would have been none the wiser, but this is his favourite school friend and we’d have a real war on our hands if he couldn’t go.

I believe in the nature argument, I really do, but surely parents can see that they are sticking their children in boxes. Girls ARE good at sports. Boys DO cry. In this metrosexual age, what are we doing to ensure our children grow up to be well balanced? Children are not shut down to anything – they are capable of everything. I just wish we could get past gender.

Talking is talking …

Thursday, May 14th, 2009

When all my friends were encouraging their children to speak, I was telling mine to just keep quiet a while so I could think. It’s my own fault that he never shuts up because I was so bored with mothering that I used to talk to him constantly about anything from the colour of the sky to the latest Ponzi scam. It’s no surprise then that he speaks ALL the time … the only consolation of course it that he has a beautiful vocabulary and says things like: “I guarantee I will be asleep in ten minutes” and “Although I don’t like her, I will play with her anyway” and “Stop scaring the hell out of me” and “The government should just bring in the army” and “This Indian bread has so many layers, it is like a book” and “Actually, I would rather have the salmon sashimi with a side of rice and a soda water, please”.

But I just have to start complaining about something for him to let rip with f$£%ing, followed by said item’s name. Would I be just as proud of him if he said, “Look mama, doggie did a poopoo”? Doubt it. So I put up with all the jabbering and reach for the volume control when I can take no more.

My dad’s bigger than your dad …

Wednesday, May 13th, 2009

I didn’t think it was for real … kids say some odd stuff but they don’t really say this kind of thing. Or do they?

We took our child to play with the son of my husband’s old school friend (someone he played with from around this age), and their lunchtime conversation was entirely about who’s dad was not only bigger … but cooler! It seems the competition had to do with who had the best tools … something I think the mums might have been more qualified to argue. :D

Moments in time

Tuesday, May 12th, 2009

We are defined by our moments … moments in our life, however small, affect the way we see the rest of our life … meld our perspective. I dwell on certain moments in my childhood that have formed my perspective of my family and I can’t help but wonder if those moments were only small once-off moments that defined the entire way I see myself as part of my family … or the huge catastrophic events that they have become in my mind. I also can’t help but worry every time I have a bad moment with my child whether that will be the moment he dwells on and develops into his overriding perspective of how I was as a mother.

Obviously I can’t let this consume me as no one knows the future and, besides, I am working on how to live in the present … in the now. But I have finally realised that when I am with him, I have to truly be with him … not always thinking of everything else that needs to be done, not always prioritising around him, but just being with him. Perhaps he will dwell on the bad moments anyway, but at least if he does I can have a clear conscience.

Postscript to Mother’s Day

Monday, May 11th, 2009

I hope all you mums had a great day and got to feel appreciated … whether you felt it should come from the child or the child’s father. I have to mention that my child was appropriately prepped and I was presented with the smiling Jolly Jammer with my morning tea. I also got a card with a portrait of me … with an upside down face and about twenty fingers on each hand. With my husband out of commission for the day, I got to spend the whole day playing rugby and football on the beach, followed by cricket at home and my child even left me to read in the sun for an hour while he listened to story CDs and generally entertained himself. As much as I scream about motherhood and mothering, days like these make it all worthwhile.

More choice?

Sunday, May 10th, 2009

As I stumble down the stairs with yet another bundle of laundry, I can’t help but ponder my choices … specifically the one that prevents me from chasing down my parallel dweller and demanding my life back so I can go to work and leave all this behind. The child wet his bed, the dog is particularly needy and the husband is being passed over for all the small stuff that seems to never get done without the correct prioritising. It’s a mess. It’s my mess. It scatters me.

What defines you as a failure? Who decides? Do we? Or do we put that decision in the hands of people who care little about us, and possibly don’t even know us at all?

Considering my choices, I realise that value does not come with a paycheque. Too many people are working too hard to prove that they are valuable and getting nothing but grey hair and a redundancy package.

It’s entirely up to you whether you want to feel like a complete failure … or whether you can accept that you are just changing your focus and accept that you have been a success and you can still be a success – just without the paycheque. Having said that, it took me almost three years to realise that I didn’t have to run screaming from motherhood and that equality doesn’t come with that paycheque but rather with a meeting of minds. I do sometimes hanker for my life without a child, for the comaraderie of a job, for the satisfaction of knowing I am going to get paid even if I am not really valued.

I saw a stone statue of a woman at Kirstenbosch. It is a woman carved in stone, sleek and bold, elegant and poised. The plaque read something along the lines of: a woman wants to be beautiful and respected but also wants to retain some of the traditional values. The woman I was there with has a 2-year old daughter and she has decided now to quit work as she’s done the whole corporate thing for so long and she realises she is missing out on the other stuff at a time when the ‘other stuff’ is slowly disappearing (i.e. each day that passes is a day you can’t get back with your children). I also read something in a Steve Biddulph book that goes something like: the work of the old days took physical labour but at least it only took your body; these days you have to give your soul.

We have too many choices as women these days but what we have to realise is that they are still choices. We don’t have to do it all. We actually get to choose. It’s pretty fabulous if only we could deal with our choices and not always want what we have given up.

I work for free now, giving my time in little ways to children who need me. My paycheque is the incredible satisfaction I get from reaching out. And because I now have a job to go to, it doesn’t matter that there is no actual paycheque because I have finally found where I need to be. This makes the work I do at home so much more valuable to me as it no longer scatters me but keeps me grounded. I realise now how easy it is to slip into the dark places.

There’s been a shift. I am finally comfortable in this space as I have accepted it ‘for now’. I am giving my heart but I am not giving my soul.

Mother’s Day

Saturday, May 9th, 2009

I’d love to be able to tell my mother how grateful I am about the way she brought me up: she taught me what I need to know about bringing up my own child … everything I need to know about how NOT to bring up my own child. This is positive as it brings with it a fresh awareness of my time with my child and a tool to prevent myself from falling in the same parenting traps. Hallmark, however, does not make a card that says these things.

With mothers day tomorrow, there are so many mums stuck in the middle as both mothers and daughters, wondering how to do the appreciating when all they are longing for is a little bit of appreciation themselves. I have discovered the solution … feed a hungry child. You don’t even need to go looking for one; all you need to do is log onto http://wall.wfp.org/ and make a donation … then follow three incredibly easy steps to write a message, upload a photo and post it on the Wall of Hunger. Your mum receives an email with a link to the wall and feels valued. You could give her a box of chocolates or a bunch of flowers but both will be gone in a few days; $25 lasts a hungry child 6 months of meals!

The only gift I am expecting is a box of Jolly Jammers. I will of course only get the ones with angry faces because that’s the fate of the disciplinarian: “Here, Mum, this one’s for you because you are always angry.” It kinda sucks but I see his point …

Anyway, happy Mothers’ Day to all of you and here’s hoping for just a small amount of appreciation from the kids … if that fails, don’t forget to truly appreciate yourselves as that most definitely counts for a lot.

Nappies … yes, again

Friday, May 8th, 2009

This is for the benefit of a friend of mine who thinks I harp on about the subject just a little too much. I see her point … but that doesn’t prevent me from wanting to keep making mine.

I am puzzled by the claim by Pampers that there is little difference in the environmental impact caused by disposables versus cloth nappies. Perhaps, at a stretch, the old fashioned way of doing the cloth nappies (and I mean decades ago) may have had an equally damaging effect on the environment–the nappies were put in buckets and collected by companies in trucks who would take all the nappies to a central laundry where they would be boiled in all sorts of chemicals and dried in huge industrial machines before being pressed and driven back to the collection point.

Even so, this cannot have contributed as harmfully as the massive landfills created by disposable nappies. In England and America alone, 25 BILLION nappies are thrown away each year so it isn’t surprising that 33% of landfills are made up of disposable nappies. Add to that the fact that they take almost 3 HUNDRED years to decompose, meaning that not one disposable nappy has decomposed yet! This is just the half of it; if you start Googling the harmful effects, you will find out about the trees that are cut down to make the nappies, the forests that are destroyed to make the pulp that is used for the gels, etc. etc. The negatives are endless and there is only one positive: convenience.

There is no argument about environmental damage and which variety of nappy is worse … yet people still allow themselves to be tempted by the perceived convenience of disposables. It’s a no-brainer.

I have used both and can state categorically that, not only are the cloth variety no less convenient, but there are actually so many benefits to using them, which I can enthuse about only because I was an instant convert when I started using them when my child was 5 months old. I could have chosen any number of a variety of pre-shaped cloth nappies that require no folding … but folding a square of terrycloth into a nappy is easier than making a paper plane so it didn’t warrant the extra expense (the point is there is no excuse about the folding as there are options). My child had not a single bout of nappy rash due to the cloth being a natural substance and because there are wonderful things called nappy liners, which keep baby dry and which are flushable. My child knew when he was wet or when he had made a poo, which made it so much easier to get him out of nappies really early (yes, I can boast that he was in proper undies at one year)–so, again, a way more convenient option because I only had to wash nappies for just over 6 months. The only equipment required was a nappy bucket with a safety lid which was kept in the bathroom filled with water and a natural organic nappy sterilizer … this meant that the nappies only had to go into the machine every weekend and they could be washed at an environmentally-friendly forty degrees in thirty-five minutes before being hung up to dry.

They may have tiny feet but bringing a child into this world leaves a massive carbon footprint. The least a parent can do is make choices that this little person will not have to pay for in several decades time. It’s time to take an ethical stand and think about the big picture of having a child and not just the selfish desire to procreate.