The Last First Day

Dearest Joe,

There is nothing like reaching a milestone to unblock a good case of Bloggers Block, and todays is surely a doozie! You, my baby, the boy who was seemingly born 2 minutes ago, have started school. My wild, crazy, loving, headstrong Joe has joined the world of the education system and truth be told I'm feeling a little bit sad. Sad because I will no longer have you at home with me, sad because I lose a little piece of you once you start school and sad because you are just growing up too darn fast.

I hope like all parents,  that you will love school and find lovely friends to play with. I hope that you wont get lost or lonely or scared. I hope that I have loved you enough, taught you enough, prepared you enough for this change in your life. I hope that your teacher will peel back the many layers of Joe to find you, because it will be so worth it, she will have a fan for life. I have a sneaking suspicion that she will be exactly what you need.

Of course there is two sides to every story and the flipside is now I have time to myself for the first time in 20 years! Its a little bit exciting I must say. No longer will I have to schedule the hairdresser on Saturdays and  appointments after hours. I can take on relief work if I like and my house will stay clean longer than 10 minutes at a time.  It will take time to get used to not having my little sidekick with me though because I have loved every minute of being home with you (though there were surely a few moments along the way I didn't exactly like- can anyone say epic tantrums??)

You are my last child Joe, my baby, so its my last first day, and like every other last first milestone I  will grieve this major change in my life for a while and then I will move on and adjust. I will always be here for you, always be your biggest champion and love of your life as you are mine. You got this!
Love you always
Mummy

A Trip Down Memory Lane

Every so often you can be going about your life when boom! You are hit with memories so powerful they take your breath away. That happened to me this past week. My mother in law needed surgery which was scheduled last week at the Mater in Brisbane. The Mater in Brisbane where Elijah entered the world in an extremely scary fashion just over 6.5 years ago. I hadn’t really given it much thought, I guess the surgery had occupied my mind.

Our first stop was to check my father in law into the hotel where he would stay for two nights. It just happened to be the same motel we went to when I was discharged from hospital 3 days after giving birth. While it wasn’t the same room, it was identical to the one we stayed in. The bed where I lay down and sobbed my heart out because I was no longer in the same building as my child, because It felt one thousand types of wrong to be separated from him. The shower where I cried again each night having to leave him again and where I discovered that crying in the shower does amazing things for milk supply! Even  though I could be by his side in minutes if something went wrong if I ran my fastest (trust me, turtles have nothing to fear even with me at my fastest) And  I knew I would find superhuman speed if my child were in trouble. But it still wasn’t the same as being only a one minute lift ride away.

We then walked over to the hospital, up and down the hills we walked each day all those years ago, me with an esky bag of expressed  milk slung over my shoulder .No wonder I lost so much weight on my stay!! Past the Coffee Club where we would meet with friends who came to visit. My mind always half on the conversation and half on wondering how my baby would be when I got to see him, Praying there would be no deterioration. I was always so grateful for the human interaction and time out from the constant alarming of monitors, but a big part of me was anxious and couldn’t wait to get back to the NICU. My greatest fear was that something would happen while I was off having a coffee of all things. 

Later in the day we walked to the little IGA that we visited each afternoon to buy something yummy. In my memory it always seemed much further away. We drove past the Coles that we went to, to find an Easter present for our child who was still meant to be safely in utero over Easter. He caught us by surprise. I remembered thinking we had driven for ages and were so very far away from the hospital. I almost had a panic attack and had to leave, grabbing the nearest stuffed bunny on the way. To make it worse the Doctor rang on our way back. I feared the worst, but he was just ringing to check in with us as he had missed us on his rounds. Seeing it this time- Coles was only about 2 blocks away. It’s funny what stress can do to your perspective.

I saw the street I walked to our new accommodation. By myself, unsure of exactly where I was going, loaded down with everything I would need until Allan arrived that night. I walked that street and I quite possibly felt like the saddest girl in the world. I am a person who has never embraced change and here I was everything so up in the air and I was moving again, when all I wanted was for something to stay the same.

This time though, I saw all these places and walked these streets with that little  scrap of a baby holding my hand as a healthy, beautiful, vital 6.5 year old. I showed him where he was born and where his life was saved. I joked with him in the car on the way down about why he felt the need to be born so darn early. His reply : “I was bored. There was no I Pad in your tummy”. Such a funny little man grew from that tiny, tiny human .

 I wished I could go back in time to that woman, to those parents who had such a rough and unfair start to parenthood and show them what the future would be. Tell them that it would be so very hard, and they would see things they could never unsee, that would bring tears to their eyes for many years to come. Tell them that, yes, they would be left with nightmares and fears, but these would pass eventually. There would also be some  scars- some of which would never fade. I would hug that woman who sat day by day beside a humidicrib not feeling like a real mother, waiting every day hoping today would be the day she got to have a cuddle, wondering what she had done wrong to cause this, feeling so numb and the guilt that numbness caused . I would show her a little way down the track, not very far at all, the moment when she would look at her baby, the first time without all the monitors attached,  and her heart would explode with such complete and overwhelming love for this child she had created and she finally felt  she was a mother.

But I would also tell them that it would all be ok. Their baby would be one of the lucky little miracles. He would avoid all the horrible things that so often go hand in hand with such prematurity- brain bleeds, blindness, infection, learning difficulties, death. He would be slow to start but he would catch up and surpass every milestone. He would be amazing and very much alive and very much loved.

The Best of Both Worlds

Anyone who knows me, knows that excited, overjoyed and thrilled were not adjectives used to describe how I was feeling about my return to work this year. I had been out of the game for 2 years and in that time, the game had changed and I was not in it. I was not even in the dressing room! Whilst I was away in my little bubble of baby bliss, a whole new curriculum came in. I had seen the curriculum, I had helped make folders for the curriculum, but due to an impatient little bubba and an incompetent little cervix, I never actually got to teach the new curriculum before going on leave. So my confidence in returning to the classroom was not high.
And I was sad. Another chapter had closed in my life- that of being a full time stay at home mum. Its quite possibly the last time I will ever be that. I hadn't reached the stage of getting bored with it, or needing the stimulation that working provides. I was happy in my little nest with my beautiful chick. But such is the fickle world of education, that I either had to return, or face the very real possibility of another transfer. I had only been at my school for a year before falling pregnant, so the thought of transferring again left me in a cold sweat. I mean I had only just fully remembered my photocopier password!! So return it was.
I know that I have been very blessed to be able to have the time off with my children that I have had. Three years with Elijah and two with Joe (now don't be getting all up in my face with claims of favouritism towards my firstborn- I simply had more leave accrued, and leave rules changed in the meantime ; ). My heart aches for those mummas whose work does not allow them to stay home for as long as they want to and it makes me grateful that I could.
So 2014 saw me return to teaching part time. 2 days a week. Allan was able to take leave 2 days a week for the whole year to stay home with Joe which has meant he wasn't going into daycare before any of us were ready (his boss is Uh-mazing!) . I know lots of kids go into care a lot younger than Joe, but I want him to be able to communicate before he goes, so he can tell me if he is happy or scared or tired or he just needs a day off. Elijah was three when he went and he handled it beautifully. Its a good age.
Everything has fallen into place. I never thought I would be saying it, but I LOVE my job. I have amazing teaching partners and it makes work fun. I teach two grade one classes in a double teaching space, One class one day, the other the next. So its crazy and busy and oh so noisy. I am responsible for geography which is hilarious. If you know me well, you know I could not give a direction to save my life and my concept of North and South are limited to being able to accurately place them on a compass. I am slowly getting used to the new curriculum and working out that its not as scary as I had imagined. In fact, the biggest challenge is fitting it all in and making it more interesting so the kids don't sleep through the whole thing!
I love that I get to stretch my brain and spend time with some pretty cool 6 year olds, and I love that I get to spend time with pretty amazing adults. Changing roles for 2 days a week with Allan has also been great for perspective. We walk in each others shoes and realise that both jobs have their challenges and their triumphs. I love that Joe gets one on one time with daddy, and he does too.
Best of all though, I still get time to be a mum. I get to do the lunches and the school drop offs, and I get lots of time to hang out with my main little man. I am making a concerted effort to not get too weighed down with the cleaning and the chores. I have seen just how fast time goes with Elijah. I don't want to waste the precious time I have left before Joe goes to school. So we walk and we go to the park, we explore, we cook, we play and we have fun. It really is the best of both worlds. And I am grateful

Dear Shop Lady

Dear Shop Girl,

Firstly, let me thank you for unblocking my Bloggers block. I haven't had much inclination or inspiration to write lately, so thanks.

Now lets get down to business. The reason for this letter is that I really feel I need to let you know that today, while shopping in your shop, you annoyed the absolute crap out of me. Please don't do it again.

I saw a cute dress hanging outside your store, I went in to try it on. First mistake. I had my almost 2 year old in the pram and he was nearing the end of his shopping tether, which was mistake number 2. Now I know you are barely old enough to be out of the pram yourself, so I cant really expect you to understand. Let me break it down for you. When an almost 2 year old is nearing the end of his tether one does not have much time. I calculated I had just enough time to throw the dress on, check it fitted my criteria of a) does it fit b) does it make me look like a street walker c) does it look like pigs fighting under a blanket?  before making a quick transaction and hauling ass out to the car.  But no, you felt the desire to show me 300 other dresses that mostly did not fit criterion a, b or c. I took a deep breath and reminded myself you were doing your job. Then as I thought I was almost near the finish line you insisted I check out the box of God-awful belts, hats and scarves that were a tiny $1. Now casting my weary eye over the box I could see even Barbie herself would struggle to get some of these teeny tiny belts around her hips. Unless you thought I could use them as anklets perhaps? Almost 2 year old had reached "I am going to squeal because the acoustics in here are awesome and I am bored"

My patience was definitely wearing very thin so I just said "I will just take the dress please" I refrained from saying "For the love of all things holy just scan the freaking dress before I stick a stiletto heel through your head" cos my mumma done raised me to have manners.

And then the unthinkable happened. I thought for a moment I had misheard. But no, there it was again. "just insert your card thanks Love" WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTFFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!! You are barely out of training pants and you just referred to me as love, numerous times.. Had I been a promiscuous teen I could at a stretch be old enough to be your mother and yet here you are calling me love!! Now I admit I am a sucker for being called 'darling' or 'sweetheart' or other such niceties, makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. IF, and only IF the one doing the name calling is older than me. When it is done by someone who still probably drinks from a sippy cup and has a night light then it is not cool, not cool at all.  And it is one sure way to guarantee I will not be visiting your store again any time soon. That is all

From the woman with the almost 2 year old who is definitely not your 'Love'

p.s I am sure you thought you looked impossibly cool in that flower headband, but it kinda looked impossibly like you had knicked it from Granny's grave. And I know this makes me really old, but in my day, pants used to cover ones butt cheeks. Just sayin love.....

To Elijah @ almost 6!

To my Darling Elijah,

Hey sweet man, I had to count up the months on my fingers to realise you are very much on the way to 6. What a big year it has been for you. Your very first year at school almost over and you have nailed it. Like a boss! I had so many worries about how you would go at school, how you would sit still, how you would follow the rules, how you would hold the chat. But to my surprise you have excelled. Your teacher speaks  highly of you, you are doing so well.  And I am so very, very proud.

I am also proud of the relationship you have with Joseph. You adore him and he adores you. Watching you together makes my heart swell. You are so patient and loving with him, its truly beautiful. My wish is that you two will always stay as close as you are now.

I love watching you growing up. The independence that is creeping in, seeing you do big boy things. I have to remind myself not to hold you back sometimes. You have the loveliest sense of humour, you never fail to crack me up. We get each other, we have a similar sense of humour. I love that. Unfortunately, you also seem to share my sporting prowess, for which I truly apologise!. You are flamboyant and dramatic, and your imagination is insane! I swear one day your name will be up in lights.


Elijah you are such an incredible little person. You are so very loving and so very kind. You declare what is in your heart with enthusiasm and without embarrassment. I love that you still love having me help in the class, and still give me kisses in front of your friends. I will be sad when these days pass. I love that you tell me I look beautiful, even when I look like a bag lady, how you lavish praise out of the blue, totally unprompted. So heartfelt. So precious. You are a beautiful soul,  inside and out.

 I love you to the moon and back and I always will.

To Joseph at 18 months

To My dearest Joe,

It feels weird even writing 18 months. I can hardly get my head around the fact that you, my baby boy are 18 months. It seems like just yesterday that you came into  our world, but on the other hand  I cannot remember a life without you in it.

You have changed so much in the past few months. You tackle life head on, fearless and always in a rush. You don't really walk, instead you look  to be constantly on the verge of running on those beautiful, chubby little legs. And climb! I swear you give me palpitations on a daily basis, often more than once. I thought you were going to be my cruisy, laidback one, but now- you are my wild man for sure! 

Cuddles, well you certainly love those. I love how you play and then every so often just come for a cuddle, almost like a reassurance that I am still there, and a reassurance that you still love me.  Being able to have this one on one time with you has been magical and I feel so blessed. When I carried you in my belly I used to worry how I could have enough love to give to another child, I needn't have worried. We have such a strong bond you and I.

Watching the love you have for your big brother, and he for you,  is exquisite. No one can make you laugh like Elijah can. He is so very patient with you, gentle with you. When you are hurt, he hurts too. This loving relationship  makes me so very proud, lets me know as parents we may get stuff wrong, but this we have got so very right.

Joseph,  you have this way, just like Elijah does of making people love you. You are not shy and will go to anyone, but you reserve your biggest cuddles for your favourite people. You have such a beautiful, ready smile. I love watching it spread across your face, until every inch of you is smiling. That smile can fix even my worst day.

Joseph, you delight me. You are naturally funny, you are clever, you are crazy gorgeous and just plain crazy. You push me to my absolute limits at times, but give me so much love. You help me to see the wonder in the world, remind me to slow down and just be. I love you to the moon and back little man, and I always will

Things I thank my kids for....... or NOT!

This mummy doesn’t drink. You know how some mummy’s let off steam with a nice cold glass of wine (or 6)at the end of a long day/week/month? Yeah well I don’t drink. I don’t drink, therefore I blog.  If I didn’t blog occasionally, I might just spontaneously combust. Most of the time though I am a real little ray of sunshine, ask anyone. Today is not one of those days.  So remember that before you get all Judgy McJudgerson on me and read on if you dare (and please note: sense of humour is required before reading further)

Things I Spank  thank my Kids for….

 Not eating food- thank you for not eating the meals I so lovingly prepare for you, making sure they are nutritionally balanced, tasty, appealing and provide variety (even though your father and I are having bangers and mash for the 5th time this week!). I just love it when you spit it out,   throw it on the floor or mash it through your hair. It’s even better though watching  you hoover up a commercial baby food with gusto –regardless of the fact it has a funky chemical taste and makes your breath smell like dog food! I guess I can take solace in the fact that if its left on the floor long enough, you will be swooping on that morsel  like a junkie on a baggie of cocaine

 Making mess- I love it when I have spent the whole time you were sleeping/at school , cleaning and then when you wake up/ get home from school you go from room to room creating a trail of destruction. I mean, I know you are just ensuring that my days don’t become too boring with no cleaning to do- however would I fill those long, long days! So thanks, really, you’re doing me a solid.  Afterall, no one likes a bored mummy!

Not pooing – Its always super fun when you need to do a poo and you refuse to. You jump around like a tasered monkey on speed, clutching your bottom cheeks whilst screaming “I don’t need a poo, I don’t need a poo”. I mean, doing a poo when you need one is like, so yesterday!  It gets even better though  when your screaming, crying and thrashing results in waking your sleeping brother, or better still- a wet bed at midnight.

Not sleeping- by all means, wake me up 3854 times a night. I love being woken to hear you had a bad dream, need a wee, need a drink- not tap water, cold water!, scratched your ear, feel lonely, feel cold, feel hot, feel like a chat. It’s really so super fun being so tired you yawn whilst deodorising and inhale a lung full of anti-perspirant!!  Sleeping is over rated anyway.

Screaming- I am a lover of languages, and I particularly love it when you speak to me for days on end in the language of scream. It is so soothing and calming, really it is, and so good for my nerves. But obviously   you just  realise I am advancing in age and if it’s not screamed at me, then my aged ears clearly won’t hear it. . I also love the added thrill I get when you are screaming, so I pick you up, and you arch your back as if to execute a double backwards pike with a 9 degree of difficulty off the lounge.  My physio loves this too, as my wrecked shoulders  keep him in business The language of whine is another personal favourite. Please, whine at me again, its so much more likely to influence me to give you that thing you are whining like a sooky brat  asking for.

Dragging feet before school – oh how I love the battle that ensues every morning as you sit and take 4 hours to eat 2 weet bix, and put on one uniform.  And clearly I cannot take you to school in your pyjamas as I threaten , because a) your Daddy is on staff and b) there is nothing like the smirk of satisfaction on people’s faces when they realise two teachers cannot control their child.

Bad behaviour in public- nothing excites me more than when you seem to save up every single  bad behaviour you have ever learnt and let them out when in public or visiting family.  I get that you are totally just letting me practice my death stares, and menacing whispers of “you wait til we get in that car”, gosh you are good like that! And the added bonus is that the general public gets to think I am the  crappest mother ever given breath and skin to. Yay for me! At least I am a winner at something!

Dirtying my clothes- Don’t let it bother you that it took me an hour this morning to choose the exact right outfit that didn’t make me look 3 metres wide. That we have to be out the door in the next 3 minutes – don’t let it deter you. The fact that I lay in bed last night planning which outfit I would wear, cross referenced it with which clothing was a) clean b)ironed and c) not too old/young/downright hideous. The fact I was wearing my only pants that don’t currently give me a muffin top? Well don’t let that worry your pretty little head as you wipe your weet-bixy, snotty face all over me. Hang on, I think you missed a square inch just below the back of my left knee- oh no, that’s ok, you got it! You are only trying to teach me about vanity I am sure.

No privacy-  Privacy? Who needs it! Totally overrated. I guess the whole giving birth thing should have been a clue that my privacy would never exist again. When you throw open the public toilet door midstream-  that really helps me to work on my pelvic floor muscles as I try to stop the flow, pull up my pants, scream and cover any offending bits of my lady garden that you have now just displayed to the entire general public. And those poor bewildered ladies who were made privy to the sight of me half naked, more muffin tops than Muffin Break , squeezing into a pair of skinny jeans in the dressing room as you threw open the curtains. Lets just say they learnt a lesson in grateful that day – ie grateful they don’t look like me naked!

Biting – I have had nipples from way back when I was developing in the womb. Some would say I have become quite attached to them.  But by all means, I realise your teeth are just emerging and need practice and chomping down on my delicate lady petals is probably soothing for your gums.  My personal favourite is at the end of a feed, you look at me hungrily and lunge at my breast again, leaving me thinking you were not in fact finished, only for your sole purpose being to take one final chomp. Never mind the blood dripping from my severed nipple, I am sure a new one will grow back in its place!

 

Disclaimer: The author loves her children very, very much and totally understands the value of offspring. This is a very tongue in cheek look at some of the less fun aspects of the totally rewarding job of parenthood.