In my former life, I used to walk in to a room full of people and begin to check out other women. It was never a conscious thing (or a sexual thing, much to my husbands disappointment) but my eyes would immediately find the women with the great hair, cute handbags, hot shoes, the perfect dress or that statement belt. I would elbow my husband and say, 'She has the exact boots that I want' or 'Would I look like a wrestler wearing that belt?' or 'Do you think that dress would emphasize the fact that I have the body of a twelve year old boy?'. My husband would respond with, 'Ask her where she got the boots' (not likely), or 'Yes you would look like a wrestler' (fair enough), and 'You may have the body of a young boy but you live life like a Nana, so that levels things out' (...thanks...). I didn't realise it at the time, but this behaviour was driven by an inbuilt competitive streak that every woman has. This streak varies according to a persons nature, their interests, their priorities, stage of life and the people they surround themselves with, but its always there.
When I fell pregnant, things began to change and I started only taking notice of other pregnant women. I became really good at gaging how far along they were, whether they were suffering from morning sickness, whether they were tired and whether they were uncomfortable with their size. I would compare my kankles with their kankles. I would compare my practical shoes with their practical shoes. I would look at their over sized clothes and then at my over sized clothes. Suddenly I didn't care about handbags.
Now, when strolling the streets of Babyboomsville (where I live), my eyes immediately go to other mothers passing with their prams. With a flick of the eyes I manage a quick analysis which can be broken down as follows. My first thought is always to the child in the pram. How old is the infant? What is its gender? Does the child have a freakishly large head or a suspicious amount of hair? (I'm awful). My next thought is a sum up the pram. What brand is it? Is it lighter than mine? How much shopping can you strap on the back before it tips? Did they sell a kidney to afford it? And finally my eyes meet the mothers, where I have a brief moment to establish whether she is getting more or less sleep than. After all, sleep is the biggest win a mother can have over another mother. This process is reciprocated, and whilst the passer by might not have the same fear of large headed babies, she's making her own notes.
Lately, I'm discovering that any gathering of Mothers can be a breeding ground for competitiveness. Forget about prams, nappy bags and all materialistic items, it's all about whose baby is 'sleeping through', using a dummy (and cue the debate disguised as a discussion), gaining weight (the baby's thank god), breastfed, starting solids (cue second debate) and the all important (apparently) reaching of developmental milestones. I personally don't care whether my son rolls at 4 months or 10 months. I assume it doesn't affect what school he gets into or his ability to make friends later in life. I do care that he doesn't become a drug addict or get his highschool girlfriend pregnant. Perhaps later in life I can start the disappointed lecture with, 'first you take ten months to roll, and now this'.
One of the most competitive activities amongst Mothers is 'tummy time'. I've literally seen babies lined up, on their tummies, with their Mums secretly cheering them on. No one wants their baby to be the first to cry, complain or rest their head on the rug. This activity also provides an opportunity for rolling which would be a double win.
I don't imagine this ever stops. In 30 years we'll be sitting around comparing Grandchildren and retirement plans. In 50 years I'll walk into a room full of people and start checking out their walking frames. I'll elbow my husband and say, 'that's the exact seat walker I want. The Voyager 2817'. He'll respond with, 'why don't you go ask her where she got it?'. Not likely.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Thursday, July 15, 2010
A Safe Place
Safety is a big topic these days and the fear of harm coming to your child begins at pregnancy and continues on...well to the end I imagine. When I was pregnant, I remember the constant disappointment of discovering new things that I couldn't eat. I was enjoying a chocolate mousse one day and was told (with huge alarm) that there was raw egg in it which I shouldn't eat. I'll never forget looking down and seeing the decorative cream still intact. Luckily, someone was willing to swap for a fruity, strudely thing which I quickly ate before any lectures on the dangers of pastry could arise. My poor food choices mixed with my occasional (completely guilt ridden) half a glass of wine, meant great relief was felt when our baby finally arrived a picture of health.
After the birth, our next safety concern (besides me accidentally dropping/drowning the baby) was SIDS. The amount of handouts and information I received on this topic had me utterly convinced that each time I went to check on my baby, I would find him dead. Even after four months, I still go into his room during naps and sleeps to check that he is breathing. Unexpected long sleep periods at night should be a chance to catch up on some rest, instead, I wake in a panic (and with engorged breasts) and rush down to the hall, ready to begin resuscitation. I have no doubt that safe sleep education has been key to the 85% decrease in deaths over the last 20 years and whilst I'm grateful for the knowledge and the small amount of control I feel over this one threat to my child, the constant reminders make for many worries.
Of course, there is always something new to worry about. A few weeks ago my Mother's Group had a session on safety which I walked away from in a state of shock. That evening when my husband came home from work I announced that we would need to move house. When he didn't react, I went on to explain that there were far too many dangers to our son in our current home and a simple home of 4 padded white walls was the only way I was ever going to be able to sleep again. My ever patient (and annoyingly rational) husband waited for me to explain, so I gave him the safety talk. I told him horror stories of kids falling into dishwashers and impaling themselves on knives. I told him about the drownings in nappy buckets. I told him that babies were hanging themselves from change table safety straps. Yes, safety straps, designed for their safety! I also told him that the power balls in dishwashing tablets fall out all the time and are eaten by innocent children who think they are lollies. These balls burn through their esophagus and the few that survive are fed via tubes. When I didn't get the desired response, I told him we currently use those exact Power Ball tablets (he'd know this if he ever put the dishwasher on - but I must not digress). This actually got me wondering why we are washing our dishes with this product at all? I've been blinded by the dazzling sparkle of my wine glasses for too long.
At the end of the Safety session the Health Nurse showed us an entire plastic tub of safety bits and pieces. She told us to go home and crawl around on the floor (sober, oh how I've grown) to see what changes were needed. This is when I realised it might be easier to sell and start fresh. The only items missing from our dangerous, war zone of a house, were loaded firearms scattered on the floor and a few grenades in the cupboards. We seriously have some safety work ahead of us. In the meantime, I have instructed our son not to reach any new developmental milestones that might endanger him. Rolling, crawling and walking are strictly prohibited until our house is disarmed or Daddy agrees to move us to the padded white room.
The reality is that we have years of safety worries ahead us. Safety when riding bikes and scooters, safe crossing of roads, safe driving of cars and lets not forget safe sex (from the age of 30, to an approved partner). It's too stressful to think that far ahead, so for now I'll mourn the loss of my chocolate mousse and try to remember to close the dishwasher door properly.
After the birth, our next safety concern (besides me accidentally dropping/drowning the baby) was SIDS. The amount of handouts and information I received on this topic had me utterly convinced that each time I went to check on my baby, I would find him dead. Even after four months, I still go into his room during naps and sleeps to check that he is breathing. Unexpected long sleep periods at night should be a chance to catch up on some rest, instead, I wake in a panic (and with engorged breasts) and rush down to the hall, ready to begin resuscitation. I have no doubt that safe sleep education has been key to the 85% decrease in deaths over the last 20 years and whilst I'm grateful for the knowledge and the small amount of control I feel over this one threat to my child, the constant reminders make for many worries.
Of course, there is always something new to worry about. A few weeks ago my Mother's Group had a session on safety which I walked away from in a state of shock. That evening when my husband came home from work I announced that we would need to move house. When he didn't react, I went on to explain that there were far too many dangers to our son in our current home and a simple home of 4 padded white walls was the only way I was ever going to be able to sleep again. My ever patient (and annoyingly rational) husband waited for me to explain, so I gave him the safety talk. I told him horror stories of kids falling into dishwashers and impaling themselves on knives. I told him about the drownings in nappy buckets. I told him that babies were hanging themselves from change table safety straps. Yes, safety straps, designed for their safety! I also told him that the power balls in dishwashing tablets fall out all the time and are eaten by innocent children who think they are lollies. These balls burn through their esophagus and the few that survive are fed via tubes. When I didn't get the desired response, I told him we currently use those exact Power Ball tablets (he'd know this if he ever put the dishwasher on - but I must not digress). This actually got me wondering why we are washing our dishes with this product at all? I've been blinded by the dazzling sparkle of my wine glasses for too long.
At the end of the Safety session the Health Nurse showed us an entire plastic tub of safety bits and pieces. She told us to go home and crawl around on the floor (sober, oh how I've grown) to see what changes were needed. This is when I realised it might be easier to sell and start fresh. The only items missing from our dangerous, war zone of a house, were loaded firearms scattered on the floor and a few grenades in the cupboards. We seriously have some safety work ahead of us. In the meantime, I have instructed our son not to reach any new developmental milestones that might endanger him. Rolling, crawling and walking are strictly prohibited until our house is disarmed or Daddy agrees to move us to the padded white room.
The reality is that we have years of safety worries ahead us. Safety when riding bikes and scooters, safe crossing of roads, safe driving of cars and lets not forget safe sex (from the age of 30, to an approved partner). It's too stressful to think that far ahead, so for now I'll mourn the loss of my chocolate mousse and try to remember to close the dishwasher door properly.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
The List
If you wanted to, you could quite easily spend all of your earnings on your baby. Between clothing, furniture, equipment, accessories, toys, parenting books, masses of nappies and the random 'that's cute' purchases, separating the needs from the wants can be a very difficult task for new Mums. There is a lot of money to be made in baby world if you have a good idea and someone to market it. If you haven't walked into a Baby Bunting lately or ventured online to shop, then hide your credit card and take a look around.
Shopping for a new baby can be pretty exciting. There are many parenting sites that now provide you with a list of must haves and nice to haves. When I was pregnant I was given one these lists and began chipping away at it over the weeks so that it wouldn't be one big financial shock. I was fortunate to get a lot of furniture second hand from family but still had to go out and get some big ticket items, such as a pram. The problem is that when you go to buy a pram, you can potentially walk out with a pram, compatible car capsule, pram liner, sun shade, rain cover, foot muff, transport bag, cup holder, stroller tidy, snack pod, double kit (for number two), cushy straps, piddlepad (yep), head support, a fan (!), pram wrap/blanket and some attachable toys. Its terrifying to think of what you could spend if all of the above is just one item off your 7 page list. I often wonder how I survived as a child without a stroller fan? There doesn't seem to be any long term damage from my mother using a standard blanket as opposed to a pram blanket, though some issues may surface later in life. Watch this space.
Sleep products are surely the biggest cash cows. Gone are the days of bunny rugs and blankets. Now its all about wraps, swaddles and sleeping bags. Each product claiming to keep your child at the optimum temperature or in the safest sleeping position or to closely resemble the womb. Anything that gives parents hope of more sleep is going to sell. These are the sort of products that you buy when you are sleep deprived without looking at the price tags. I have the Wrap Me Up swaddle bags where their arms are positioned up. My little guy won't settle if he can't suck his hands. I very sensibly bought two however the other day one was pooed one and one spewed on, so I tried putting my son down for a nap without it. It was a teary disaster. His little arms were frantically flapping in the air and he had no idea how to fall asleep with those things waving in front of his face.
You may have guessed that I didn't end up buying everything on the list. I probably only bought around half of the items. I was never going to buy a bath thermometer when I have a perfectly good, free elbow. That money went towards a cabbage, which was strangely never mentioned on any of the lists, yet was my number one must have. Oh the relief. I did however end up buying a play gym, which I first scoffed at and deemed unnecessary. My son loves it and I do wonder how I filled my days as a baby without one. The many attachable toys with all their unique sounds, the mirror that my son smiles at (he thinks he has a friend that Mummy keeps in the cupboard), the colourful play mat with different fabrics for him to feel and throw up on, the musical foot pad that I have never put batteries in but look forward to discovering one day. Yes, arm me with a cabbage and play gym and I'm sorted for child number two.
These days, every aspect of parenting is supported by a mass of 'things'. There are so many toys, activity tables, gyms, walkers, jumpers, swings and various sleep aids, that all you need is a wet nurse to take care of the feeding and someone to invent a nappy changer, and you can sit back with a good book and let the gadgets raise your children. Of course I'm a massive hypocrite. I'm sitting here looking at my sons rocker which has both vibrate and music options because heaven forbid I just buy the rocker that rocks.
Shopping for a new baby can be pretty exciting. There are many parenting sites that now provide you with a list of must haves and nice to haves. When I was pregnant I was given one these lists and began chipping away at it over the weeks so that it wouldn't be one big financial shock. I was fortunate to get a lot of furniture second hand from family but still had to go out and get some big ticket items, such as a pram. The problem is that when you go to buy a pram, you can potentially walk out with a pram, compatible car capsule, pram liner, sun shade, rain cover, foot muff, transport bag, cup holder, stroller tidy, snack pod, double kit (for number two), cushy straps, piddlepad (yep), head support, a fan (!), pram wrap/blanket and some attachable toys. Its terrifying to think of what you could spend if all of the above is just one item off your 7 page list. I often wonder how I survived as a child without a stroller fan? There doesn't seem to be any long term damage from my mother using a standard blanket as opposed to a pram blanket, though some issues may surface later in life. Watch this space.
Sleep products are surely the biggest cash cows. Gone are the days of bunny rugs and blankets. Now its all about wraps, swaddles and sleeping bags. Each product claiming to keep your child at the optimum temperature or in the safest sleeping position or to closely resemble the womb. Anything that gives parents hope of more sleep is going to sell. These are the sort of products that you buy when you are sleep deprived without looking at the price tags. I have the Wrap Me Up swaddle bags where their arms are positioned up. My little guy won't settle if he can't suck his hands. I very sensibly bought two however the other day one was pooed one and one spewed on, so I tried putting my son down for a nap without it. It was a teary disaster. His little arms were frantically flapping in the air and he had no idea how to fall asleep with those things waving in front of his face.
You may have guessed that I didn't end up buying everything on the list. I probably only bought around half of the items. I was never going to buy a bath thermometer when I have a perfectly good, free elbow. That money went towards a cabbage, which was strangely never mentioned on any of the lists, yet was my number one must have. Oh the relief. I did however end up buying a play gym, which I first scoffed at and deemed unnecessary. My son loves it and I do wonder how I filled my days as a baby without one. The many attachable toys with all their unique sounds, the mirror that my son smiles at (he thinks he has a friend that Mummy keeps in the cupboard), the colourful play mat with different fabrics for him to feel and throw up on, the musical foot pad that I have never put batteries in but look forward to discovering one day. Yes, arm me with a cabbage and play gym and I'm sorted for child number two.
These days, every aspect of parenting is supported by a mass of 'things'. There are so many toys, activity tables, gyms, walkers, jumpers, swings and various sleep aids, that all you need is a wet nurse to take care of the feeding and someone to invent a nappy changer, and you can sit back with a good book and let the gadgets raise your children. Of course I'm a massive hypocrite. I'm sitting here looking at my sons rocker which has both vibrate and music options because heaven forbid I just buy the rocker that rocks.
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