On the retirement of the bassinette...

It is time.

It is time to retire the bassinette. The sleeping home of my three little cherubs.

It was the same bassinette that my mother slept in as an infant... the same one my sister Fiona slept in in the early 70's... the same one I slept in in the early 80's...

It has held the children of family and friends for over 65 years.  It has held my children on and off for 5 years.  It will probably hold the children of my sister and brother (when they have them)...

But for now it is time to retire it.

The bassinette has sat in the corner of our bedroom for 9 months now.  It held Silas for basically 6 months...by far the longest of any of our babies.  And has sat empty of an infant ever since.

The bassinette, like the bouncer, has since become the receptacle of miscellaneous junk... clean clothes, books, toys...  it gets moved out of the way when we need to get into the cupboard against which it stands...

It is time to put it away.  For the last time in this house.

But I can't.

The cynical amongst you might say that this is because I value the storage space it gives me... and to an extent they would be right... it would mean actually putting things away where they go instead of just dumping them in the bassinette at the end of the day.

But there is more to it than that.

Even though I know that Silas is my last baby, putting away the bassinette says that his early babyhood is over forever...irrevocably finished.  His is 8 months old and yet he is still my tiny boy, who I cradle to feed many times a day...sustenance from my own body.  He is still "Baby Silas", dwarfed so tiny next to Bede and Tabitha.  He can't crawl yet so the illusion of helplessness is still there... but soon he will be off and moving.  My last tiny boy will be moving towards toddlerhood, away from babyhood... away from total dependence on me for his every need.

It is sad.

But it is freeing... it is only a short time that I will have a small boy who needs sustenance only from me... a short time that I will be able to soothe him in the middle of the night with a cuddle and a feed... then I can have my sleep back...  and the corner of my room... but my heart will be forever fuller... forever his.

Ages and Ages Hence...

I have been a mother now for five years come Monday.

I remember being very apprehensive about motherhood.  I always thought that the endless days spent at home attempting to entertain a small person (or several small people) would turn me into a drooling mess, unable to communicate effectively or coherently with other adults.  I thought that I would lose all ability to think critically about anything of an academic nature again.  I thought that people would stop valuing me for my intelligence and professional experience, and that I would become *just* a mum.

How has motherhood been? How has Mr Bede, 5 on Monday changed my life?

Well suffice to say I am not currently a drooling mess, unable to communicate with other adults... I am just as adept at the art of both spoken and written words as I was before the advent of Mr Bede... if anything more so... since having Bede I have given my first talk at a brunch for Christian Women... I have started a Masters Degree in Education (for which I am receiving marks beyond any in my previous academic endeavours, including my first HD)... I have proof-read and edited a Masters Thesis for a friend that received an HD grading... I have a few things to be proud of...

So in that sense, my life is little different.  My intellect is intact, and potentially more acute than it was.

But my life experiences?

My life experiences are vastly different to what they were...

Now I know the true horror of the toddler who hasn't napped.  I know how to wrestle a rolling baby into an all-in-one suit without scratching or breaking the bones of said baby.  I can breastfeed an infant whilst mediating a dispute between two other children, while making dinner.

Is it hard? Yes.  There are days where Mr Bede has stretched me to my breaking point.  And he hasn't even started.

It is very interesting to watch him grow up.  Five years is at the same time a very short but very long time.  He has gone from the flailing, crying infant dependent upon me for his every meal, to the flailing, running, jumping, shouting, train-imitating, Boy (and the capital is intentional.  He is SUCH a boy) who is still dependent upon me for his every meal but perhaps not in as physically immediate way these days...

We haven't even got to Homework Wars or the dark and shadowy realm of the Teenaged Years to come. He hasn't even gained a fraction of his arguing and negotiating ability... and if his current verbosity us anything to go by, we should be VERY worried.

He can and often does talk from sun up so bedtime without drawing breath, offering a running commentary on anything and everything, asking questions all the time... according to my parents, I was exactly the same.  He will talk to anyone he meets and makes friends easily with the person next in line, the kid on the swing, the old person at church... and even after a full day with lots of people will still ask when he is going to see more friends... again, a mini-me... He loves stories and being read to... he can basically recite whole books and chapters of Winnie the Pooh (a gift I think he gets from Daddy)...

He is and has always been a boy on the move. Able to crawl at 6 months and walk at the back end of ten months he could dribble a soccer ball at the tender age of 15 months.  Now he loves to practice his fast bowling, and his forehand with equal interest and equal skill.  He also loves to ride his bike for hours without stabilisers... This ia a boy who seems to have a natural affinity for sports.

This year Bede starts school up the road.  He has been at preschool several days a week for the past two years or so, and has matured so much in that time.  He leads the gang of boys in their games with balls, sand, trains, and all sorts of other things.  He can and does lead group discussions when he has the preschool 'friend' home to visit for a week and has to report back... leads the discussion, fields questions... you'd think he was born to be in the spotlight... a natural leader.

It will be fascinating to see how school affects him, how he fits in to the group... how he learns and grows and develops... It is an exciting time...

And yet... sometimes I wish he was that tiny baby again.  I would do so much differently.  But then wouldn't we all?  Wouldn't we all cuddle them more and stress about that skipped nap a bit less? Wouldn't we all shout less and rough house more? Tickle more?

Be less annoyed by his endearing quirks? Be less annoyed by his constant (and I do mean CONSTANT) chatter? Be less annoyed by his apparent inheritance of all my bad points?!

In some ways the next few years are going to be a lot about me learning to parent him better... learning to see his similarities to me and love them.  Learning to enjoy my own annoying traits... and learning how to teach him to manage them effectively...

Sleeping like a... baby?

So Mr Silas is six months old as of yesterday.  He is a truly lovely little boy... very affectionate and happy.  He is eating real food and drinking my milk like the others did.  He laughs when you play round-and-round-the-garden on his tummy like the others.

And just like the others, he is awakening my parental obsession: baby sleep (which of course morphs into toddler sleep as they get older).  Once again the quality of my day is becoming about how well he sleeps...or as in the case of this afternoon, doesn't sleep... Once again I am wracked with anxiety around whether he is getting enough sleep and guilt that I cannot just 'clear the decks' (like I could when Bede was little) and stay home to get him back into routine, or to let him recover from a particularly busy couple of days...

Today was the second big day in a row... the morning was fine... he woke up late after a night which included an extra feed... he slept on the way to our new church and was good during the service...he slept in the carrier on me for a while, had some lunch and stayed awake in the car... we thought we would put him down for a nap then given that he had been awake for almost three hours by then... but all our efforts were to no avail... the window of sleep had shut, and he got progressively more and more overtired...and less and less likely to just drop off... and more and more grumpy.  In the end, he was so over tired that dinner was a non-event (meaning that he screamed so much he wouldn't eat anything)... the usual calmer downer of the bath didn't work (he screamed through his bath...an almost unheard of occurrence)...and was asleep for the night by 6.15... an hour earlier than usual...

This reminds me why I am so protective of my kid's sleep... lack of it can derail a perfectly nice Sunday afternoon, and a perfectly happy relaxed mood... but it also reminds me that I need to learn  to lighten up a little more... something I thought might have happened by now...three kids later... 

But as Anne Shirley was known to say, "Tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes in it"... or in my case...no skipped naps in it...yet.

Anyone?... Bueller?

Ok so here's the thing.

We all love "Ferris Bueller's Day Off".  We love that he ditches school, has lots of fun with some friends, sticks it to the man and gets away with it.  We love that he gets away with it.

Well, we loved it when we were teenagers, because we wished it was us.  We loved it in our twenties because we liked to think that when we were at school we too would have jumped at the chance to ditch school (if we knew we'd never be busted).

As a teacher though, the movie can leave a bad taste in my mouth as I get older.  It irks me when students ditch school.  It irks me more when they are obviously intelligent kids with lots of potential (like Ferris).

And as a parent?  I'm not sure what I think.  I know for a fact that if I ever find out my kids have ditched school, they will be in trouble.  I also know that I'd like to think my kids will look back on their time at school and know they put in the best effort they could.

But at the same time, everyone needs an experience like Ferris' to look back on with nostalgia and a bit of pride.  Kind of an "I beat the rules and had a great time" thing.  I would hope that I wouldn't be so uptight that I wouldn't let them have some experiences that would give them those sorts of memories.

Still Alive!!

I am still alive oh my devoted followers...we few, we happy few...

The move is accomplished with the minimum of stress.  We now reside outside of Sydney (GASP) in a small country town.  Our home is situated on a block of land that could easily be divided into two generous blocks.  The house itself is large.  No.  Wait.  It's huge.  We're used to living in maybe 3 rooms.  Now we have 4 bedrooms, and two living areas, and nowhere near enough furniture to fill it. 

We have already begun on the backyard modifications.   We now have 4 vegetable/herb gardens with many vegetables growing in them (many of which, mind you, I don't eat).  We have also pulled out the entirety of the front flower bed, which is now ready for new and pretty flowers rather than spike/fern things...

On another topic, I have officially survived the first year of being a mother.  Bede turned 1 today!!  He is still breastfed, he eats lots and lots of everything, he sleeps 12 hours at night and two hours (ish) during the day in 2 chunks.  He walks everywhere, and is getting better at it everyday.  He askes "Dis?" as he points to things, and has finally mastered the mum mum mum sound.  He throws left handed and can stack blocks. He loves all music, making singing and dancing attempts constantly.  He loves being read to and can turn the pages of a book, knowing to begin at the beginning.  He is a very happy little boy who will smile at everyone, and will walk up to, climb on, and cuddle everyone who is friendly to him.  He is very ticklish and laughs all the time. 

If you can't tell,  may have enjoyed being a mum this year just a little bit.  I am still being asked all the time when will I go back to work.  I simply answer "Not for the forseeable future".  And I'm OK with that!

Changes changes.

It has been a year of great change.  


I spent about an hour and a half last night reading back over the Facebook posts and status updates on my profile since my birthday in 2009.  It was an interesting exercise and one I plan to revisit every so often.  It really showed me a couple of things about my life.  It has most definitely been a year of great change. 


 I went from someone who worked for money (and fulfillment) to someone who stayed home full-time with a small person!  I went from someone who I thought was not that excited about having kids to someone who now has one and can admit publicly that I love motherhood. 


I noticed that I have many very supportive friends.  Some of them I see all the time.  Some of them I haven't seen in person for many years.  Yet all have been giving of themselves and their advice when requested or needed.  I know some people say Facebook has made friendship less meaningful, and I can see why that may be the case, but for me, it has enabled me to reconnect with many friends who no longer live close by.  It has meant that people who (for whatever reason) can't come and visit can still see Bede and his progress (and follow mine). 


I also noticed that (despite my many protestations to the contrary) I was actually very excited to be pregnant and loved most of it.  On the same topic, I saw many many updates (more than I ever thought I could write) extolling the positives of motherhood.  Sure there were also many many negative posts...some days the positives felt very far away.  But over all I think we can say that motherhood has been a positive experience.  


It was interesting to me to realise that Facebook is almost better than a baby book for me in that I update with almost every new skill mastered or cute expression espied.  I have a real baby book.  But I would have to check my Facebook profile to accurately update it!!


So for next year instead of a new baby, we will have a new home, a new Church family, a new geographic and social area to get used to.  Many changes.  Will my Facebook profile adequately reflect the scope and effect of all of them?  Probably not since working in ministry has its own ethical and privacy codes.  But I will certainly try to live as openly in ministry as I try to live in motherhood so that no one can say I am half-hearted in my motherhood or in my ministry or in my marriage.  

Just a mum...Part II

Often I am asked when I will be going back to work.  If I had a dollar for every time the question is asked, I would be very very rich.  It is an interesting assumption isn't it? Of course I'll be going back to work right?  I mean I'm a modern woman with a modern (and very expensive) education.

My school life was filled with the explicit indoctrination into modern ideas about women in the workforce: women can and should have both a career (a successful one of course), and a family at the same time.  I never really thought twice about the question of going back to work.  Not until Bede arrived.

Now when I think about going back to work, I am uncertain.  I alternate between wanting to go back to teaching; to the imparting of knowledge to the young; and wanting to stay with Bede, seeing all his firsts.  I have already missed a couple recently.  I missed the first time he pulled up to stand when he was at home with Poppy while Luke and I went to lunch...and then I missed the first time he pulled himself up in his cot, again while out with Luke.

Going back to work has other problems.  We will be moving at the end of the year to an as yet unknown location (we'll know where as soon as Luke gets a job for next year), into an as yet unknown church family.  It would not have been worth going back to work this year since I would have to quit at the end of the year anyway.  And next year, our first year in parish ministry, I want to spend time making connections, finding my feet in our new spiritual home.  I don't want to confuse the issue (or Bede) by adding a new job to the list of new things (new home, new church) we'll have to get used to.

We also kind of like the idea of 3 year age gaps, so in some ways it may not be worth going back to work between children.  Mind you I may change my mind on that one.

So it is a loaded question for me when people ask when I'm going back to work.  Firstly it assumes that I will.  I may not.  Secondly it assumes that work outside the home is a more important, more valid occupation than looking after the primary needs of Bede and home.  For the time being, caring for Bede's physical, spiritual and emotional welfare is my primary ministry which God has graciously blessed me with.  Any job I go back to will always be secondary to the cares of the family.

In a new church we will be wanting to extend hospitality often and to many people.  If I am working I will be less able to extend that hospitality and to run an efficient household (something I already struggle to achieve).  If I try to add paid work to my home responsibilities, Luke's life is made more complicated and stressful, which is not something he needs in a new job.

So as you can see asking me when I'll be going back to work is a very loaded question.  And for someone like me who was less-than -enthusiastic about leaving the work force, it can be a hurtful question because it reminds me of the sacrifices I make every day, and how selfish it is to even consider them sacrifices.

Stay at home...

"So what do you do?"


"I'm just a mum..."


It is no secret to anyone who knows me that I was somewhat reluctant to give up teaching.  I was always worried that being at home all the time with a baby would mean that my brain would turn to mush through lack of adult conversation.  


It was of course my pride talking when I used to say such things.  I have too much pride.  It often gets in the way of my emotional and spiritual growth.  But one thing I have learned: pride is not a godly response to blessings from God.  I have been blessed with intellect and I am overly touchy about any potential slurs against it. So for me the idea that my brain might turn to mush whilst taking on the (supposedly) thankless tasks of parenting was terrifying.  It meant shelving ideas of further study whilst teaching.  It meant being "chained to the home" or so I thought.


What has been the reality?


The reality has been a double edged sword.  In some ways it is much easier than I expected it to be.  Bede has been a (relatively) easy baby to live with (no matter how much I may whinge on facebook).  He has always been a good eater, on the whole a good sleeper (with some exceptions to be addressed in future posts), and a very smiley happy little boy. My brain hasn't turned to mush as I feared it would.  I have been able to get to at least one Biblestudy group a week, to Moorewomen each week, to Mother's group most weeks, and to visit and support a very good friend and fellow maternal traveller more weeks than not. I have enjoyed not marking exams or writing reports, or dealing with recalcitrant students.


On the other hand, I have often struggled with my own expectations of myself.  I often have to revise what I can actually achieve with a baby in tow, how many things I can actually get to each week around sleeps and feeds.  On occasion I have had to clear the decks for the sake of a few days of good sleeps (for Bede) whilst champing at the bit to get out the door.  I can be very ungracious about putting aside my need for human contact for the sake of Bede's need for stability and routine.  


Don't get me wrong.  I love routine!! I made a big effort to get Bede into a routine rather than feeding on demand.  I'm a teacher so I love control and predictability. In a sense, having a baby has been the hardest thing I've ever done simply because it means surrendering my need to control and regulate.  It has meant slightly freaking out when Bede doesn't do what the books say he should and when (for the record he generally does things ahead of time...both good and bad). 


Anyway.  The upshot is that yes I was reluctant to give up my working life.  And yes I thought parenting would be one long round of hell and isolation.  Was I correct?  No I wasn't.  I was wrong.  


There.  I've said it.  I love being a mum.  I love looking after Bede each day.  


But why is it so hard to admit that?  


Pride.  One of my most glaring defects and sinful attitudes.    I should be able to shout my joy in Bede from the rooftops.  But because of my pride, I whisper it shamefacedly, embarrassed by my own backflips...