My day started with Patrick getting up at 7am and by 9am he had prepared 2 roasts and put them in the oven, made me a 3 course breakfast and a smoothie, done the dishes, organised Evie’s breakfast and then taken her back to bed for a nap. And he says all I do is bag him on my blog!

Here is one course of my 3 course breakfast!

My cranky child – poor girl did this most of the morning!

More breakfast…

Lunch at my grandparents where all of the men do the cooking. An awesome feast!

And then dessert… Made by my talented uncles!

And Evie’s dessert – blackberries from Grandma and Grandad’s garden:

And tonight I have the house to myself to catch up on some much needed housework!

How was your day?

There are many fears that different people have. Spiders. Snakes. Heights.

In the common use of the word, if you were asked what fears you had, you might say one of the above.

But the fears that we don’t talk about so much are the ones that unfortunately make the world go round. Many peoples entire lives are based on fear. From the government. From health professionals. From friends and family. From our own perspectives and internal dialogue.

Yesterday I experienced a fear that I wasn’t going to write about. A fear of taking medication. Why wasn’t I going to write about it? For fear of judgement. So now I face double fear!

I have had a rash on my body for just over a year now. It started as no more than an eczema-type thing which is something I have been used to getting on and off since childhood – generally when I have lots going on in my life. I put this rash down to that. After all I did have a new baby to take care of and I was working, doing housework, breastfeeding and not getting enough sleep.
I have been doing a number of natural therapies to keep it at bay. Obviously with changes in my lifestyle and mind along the way. After all, it’s pointless just trying to treat something and to not change the cause.

In the couple of weeks it has become so bad that I could not sleep. I could not function. I couldn’t stop scratching. In the past week I couldn’t move or wear clothes without being in a great deal of pain. That’s not healthy. That’s not a way to live. And that’s not helpful when caring for your children.

I have cut sugar and yeast out of my diet entirely. I have bathed and breathed in Oil of Cloves. I have taken high quality supplements like zinc, vitamin B, fish oil, probiotics and iron. I have done a spiritual clearing in our house. I have had lots of NET sessions and have seen a naturopath, Chinese herbalist and an acupuncturist.

Yesterday I went to my GP as a last resort. They were quite concerned and got a second opinion, and did a number of tests, before prescribing something.

The thing is, I almost didn’t fill the script. I haven’t taken medication in YEARS. I mean at least 5 years ago when I removed my contraceptive rod. Not even paracetamol. I think the last time I took any other medication was when I was in year 12.

I was terrified to take the medication my GP prescribed yesterday. Yet some of my closest friends and some of the most health conscious people I know reminded me that there is a time and place for western medicine and that I couldn’t live like this. So I took it. And I slept last night. And I’m in a little less pain.

Enter fear number 2: What will people think of me for taking drugs? I mean other health practitioners that I see; Chiropractors, the herbalist, the naturopath, the acupuncturist. Or family and friends who often talk about my ‘alternative’ or ‘hippy’ ways? Will they judge me?

Isn’t it strange how we have these irrational fears? I see it often at the practice when people say ‘Oh I don’t think I’ll tell my doctor I’m seeing a Chiropractor’ OR ‘my physio told me to stop seeing a Chiropractor’ OR ‘my husband told me I shouldn’t bring our baby to the Chiropractor’. Where does all of this come from? Fear? A lack of knowledge on the ‘advisors’ behalf? Who knows. But what I do know is that we need to all make our own educated decisions and take a moment to ignore the fear. Only you can make the choice that works for you.

So I’ve made sure I’m looking after my body so that it can best cope with the medications. I’m getting adjusted. I’m having a relaxing weekend. I’m reassessing with the GP again on Monday so I can use the least amount of medication possible for the least amount of time. I’m drinking lots of water and eating lots of fresh, organic fruits and vegetables. I’m looking at doing a detox in a couple of weeks. We are booking a 2 week holiday for next month. I’m doing less day to day. I’m resting more. I’m meditating. I’m still seeing my other health practitioners. And most importantly I’m the one making my choices and I’m the one responsible for my body. No one else. Regardless of their degree.

So I’m no longer scared. I trust that my body will utilise what it needs and will get rid of the rest. I trust that I know and respect my body better than anyone else. And I trust that by getting through this emergency/first aid phase I can help my body systems to build and regenerate and to then be a healthier me.

I had never considered anything other than breasfeeding. Coming from a background of working in a Chiropractic office and studying a health degree, the health of my child has always been very high up on my list of values. I’m sure this is also the case for many other parents.

I remember just after Evie was born and we had moved from the birth pool to our couch, I sat there holding her in my arms looking down at her tiny body against mine. We were wrapped up in a blanket, skin on skin, and there she was. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I couldn’t do anything but smile. The labour memories had already disappeared. I have never been so present in my life as I was then. Nothing else mattered.

So when she turned her little head towards my breast, it seemed natural to just hold her and allow her to suckle at my nipple. I had no idea what a good latch was. I had no idea what position I should hold her in. I just let her do her thing. And it was beautiful.

My midwife, Lisa, checked that she was feeding ok. Everything about it felt so natural and perfect.

For the next 3 days, when she fed it would often be for anywhere between an hour and an hour and a half at a time. This felt fine for the first 2 days but then my nipples became a little sore from the continual sucking. By the time my milk came in, the pain eased a little bit as there was much more for her to actually suck out.

She was now feeding for around 20 minutes at a time. This was great for about a week. Then it started to hurt. A lot.

I remember my nipples being so sore that I didn’t want to feed her. I prayed that she would sleep for a long time because if she woke up I knew it meant feeding time. I was in so much pain that I would cry when I heard her cry because I knew what I had to do. My nipples were sore, and often bleeding, and I really, really didn’t want to feed my baby.

One of my nipples was so sore and damaged that I just skipped a couple of feeds on that side because I couldn’t bring myself to use it. I just needed time to heal! But that made for one hugely full boob. And with it came a very tender breast. Lisa helped me to hand express that side, to avoid mastitis, but we both knew that I needed to feed my baby with that breast because of the importance of ‘supply/demand’ especially in those early days. So we soldiered on with the painful feeds.

I felt like I was failing my baby. But I just couldn’t bare to willingly be in so much pain. It was so hard to place something on your breast that inflicted so much pain. But I also couldn’t leave a baby who was hungry or in need of comforting to just cry. So when she stopped crying because my boob was in her mouth, I started.

Lisa spent a lot of time helping me with my latch, offering me support and tips. Breast feeding was much easier when she was around. I already knew all of what she had to tell me – just breath, the pain will go away after the initial latch, you can always take her off and start again, lower your elbow, relax your shoulders, smile – but it made a difference just having her there. However, she couldn’t stay at my house for 24 hours a day for 6 weeks unfortunately!

I can remember being so upset when it was feeding time that Patrick would sit next to me and once Evie was on my breast he would talk to me about his day, about the wallpaper, about our plans, about the carpet, about the room, about a conversation he had had recently, what he had eaten during the day, what he dreamt about recently, he asked me questions… anything that would keep my mind off of the pain and would therefore help me to relax. That in turn helped with the pain.

By 6 weeks, breast feeding seemed ok. My breasts were a little tender but my nipples felt like they were healing. Both Evie and I were getting into our groove of feeding and everyone was much happier. This was also the time that Lisa stopped coming for my post natal visits (although she was only a phone call away and would pop around at any time). Things were looking up in the feeding department. Yay!

Come 9 weeks and Evie starts to do a little clicking thing with her tongue. Enter: Pain! This meant more help and advice from Lisa, help from a lactation consultant and even Patrick’s mum (who used to be a midwife and nurse) was helping with attaching Evie to my breast. The clicking continued and the pain got worse. I used Lanolin which helped. I ruined a lot of my clothes during these next few months from getting Lanolin on them! I ended up lying on my back during the let-down which helped a little bit as it was suggested to me that the clicking may be because my let-down was too quick. But no matter what we tried, the pain continued. It went up and down in terms of how painful it was but I just got used to it. Sometimes I would use one breast twice in a row for feeds just to leave the other breast time to heal. Then I would swap. By the time Evie was 6 months old, the pain started to decrease and eventually subsided.

I actually loved breastfeeding at this point! It was the most beautiful thing in the world. It was entirely pain free and simply wonderful. I can not even express the love and joy I felt when sitting down to feed my girl. I’m sure every breast feeding mum can relate to that!

Evie was using sign language to tell me when she wanted to feed and she would occasionally say “booba”. My heart melted when she wanted to feed. There was nothing I loved more. Our bond grew. She was happy and I was happy.

By the time Evie was about 10 months old, the pain was back. We continued with the breastfeeding. I dealt with it and she continued to thrive. I didn’t mention the pain to many people because I was a) a little ashamed that I still wasn’t able to do this whole breastfeeding thing after so long, and b) because I was sick of getting suggestions of what I could do better when I had already tried so many things.

It wasn’t until when Evie was about 14 months old and we were going through a particular painful stage that I had a bit of a wake up call with this continuous pain. I was at a ‘coffee morning’ with a group of other mothers and I was feeding Evie. It was painful but I was so used to it by this point that I ignored it and continued to feed and have a conversation with another mum. When she had finished feeding, Evie sat up and when I looked down to pull up my top my boob was covered in blood, as was Evies mouth.

It looked like something very violent had occurred! The other mums looked at me and asked if I was ok. We were all as shocked as each other. I was in a very loving and supportive environment, yet I couldn’t say anything. I was just too shocked. People suggested that maybe it was teeth/teething – but Evie didn’t have any teeth, and she didn’t get any until a month later. On the way home that day I couldn’t help but think “I have to do something about this. This is ridiculous!” But I didn’t know what to do. Evie wasn’t ready to stop feeding.

I let that boob heal and fed on the other one. We continued feeding and it continued hurting. Not long after this though, she started eating a lot more food and not being as interested in “booba”.

Now at 17 months old, she has stopped feeding. This makes me sad. Yet it is a relief.

I didn’t know when she would stop feeding. You never can tell. If you could, how would you prepare yourself? Do you cuddle longer? Feed longer? Love it more? I don’t know the answer to that. But I do know that regardless of the pain that breast feeding brought me, I would not hesitate to offer my baby some more “booba” should she ask for it. Every now and then she does, but after a quick 3 second suckle she looks up at me with the most beautiful and cheeky grin and laughs. She knows there’s nothing in there. But she knows they are a place of love and happiness for her, and have been for the past 17 months.

I’ll miss this chapter. I thought I might be glad to let it go, but the positives far outweigh the negatives in my opinion when it comes to breastfeeding.

From now, just a cuddle will be enough for us.

Much to my amazement, I became a finalist in the Parenting category.

Image source

And today all of the winners were announced and I was crowned with the title:

“Australia’s Best Young Blogger 2012″

Wow much? I think so.

Still very much in shock.

There were over 1000 entrants in the competition. And there were some incredible blogs to compete against. Take for example, Edenland, who was the overall “Australia’s best blog” winner… She recently went to Africa with World Vision to help expose the poverty crisis. An incredible woman.

What do I do?? Not that.

Further, there was a people’s choice round. And people actually voted for me! Now if that’s not crazy, I don’t know what is!

Does that mean people actually read my blog?!

Now is the time to stop lurking, I think! Say hello. My stats tell me that you are reading, people! Would love you to pop your little heads up. I won’t bite much! Introduce yourself in the comment section…

Oh and one more thing: What should I get mum for mothers day? Do you think the pride of having a winner blogger is enough?

Since she was born, I have always wanted to spend my time with Evie. I did not wanted to use childcare or regular babysitting before she was at least 12 months old. I still don’t want to use childcare. Not that I have a problem with it, it just isn’t something that I see being part of our family. I do however have regular babysitters now, since my work has become much more demanding. When I say babysitters, I mean anyone who isn’t me – that means Patrick, my mum or Patricks mum. A few times it has meant my sisters or Patricks sister.

So all of the time when I’m not at work, I spend time doing things because of or with Evie. I imagine this is the same for most parents.

For those of you who know me, or those of you who read often, I am all for natural parenting and attachment parenting. Therefore I don’t choose to use methods like controlled crying, naughty corners, time-outs, strong discipline or yelling at/smacking children. Again, I just don’t see these things being part of our family life.

That takes me to what happened on Sunday morning.

On Saturday, we had a sleep in until 10am – bliss!!
Patrick then went to play football at 11am.
Evie and I stayed home until 2:30pm when I took her to my parents house so I could go and play netball. Patrick gets home from football at 3pm so we just miss each other.
I play netball, go and pick up Evie and then get home by about 5:30pm.
Patrick cooked us dinner (thanks!) and then left to go to his footy presentations at 5:45.
Evie and I go to bed at 8pm – around the time Patrick gets home again.

On Sunday morning, Patrick has a running workshop which he leaves home for before Evie and I are out of bed.
He goes straight from the running workshop to pick up Gracie from her mums, goes through a car wash, then gets home at around 11:30am.
Evie and I have a 1st birthday party to go to – which includes brining a plat of food to share so we spend our morning baking and getting ready.
We leave home at about 11:30am. Get to the party at about 12:15pm. Stay for a while. Leave at 2:15ish.
We get home at 3pm which is the same time I am supposed to be meeting a friend for a cuppa and a catch-up. She arrives at my house to pick me up at the same time I drive in the driveway from the party.
I drop Evie off with Patrick and Gracie and go out with my friend. Ahhhh. That was nice! Adult time!
I get home at 5ish and by 5:30 I have left again to take Gracie to Patricks sisters house (Patrick stayed with a sleeping Evie) which is where we are having dinner. I go back to our house to pick up Evie and Patrick and then we are all at dinner by 6pm.
Back home by 8pm, get lunchboxes and clothes ready for the next day, Evie and Gracie have a bath and I take Evie to bed while Patrick takes Gracie to bed.

And that is a pretty standard weekend.
Add to that the fact that Patrick was in Melbourne on Monday night and all day Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were full days, we had people over for dinner on Thursday night and Friday was pretty busy too, plus the fact that Evie had every ‘teething’ symptom possible for all of those days… And you get ‘My Sunday Morning’!

What I looked like on Sunday morning

Image source

My Sunday Morning… I was not the person I want to be. I was not the person I like to be. I was not the mother I strive to be. I was not a nice person at all. I found myself snapping, feeling VERY stressed out and feeling angry and uptight.

I am ashamed to say that I told Evie to ‘shut up’. I whinged back at her. I told her off. I yelled. I gave her horrible looks.  I was not loving or gentle or nurturing. I did not listen to her. I was not patient with her. I was an all round horrible person. Good God it is hard to write that! Makes me feel sick.

She fell asleep on the way to the birthday party on Sunday and I thought. A lot.

I diagnosed my self INSANE. Who am I? What am I doing to my child?

Image source

Reflection time…. No wonder!!!!!! No wonder I’m stressed out. No wonder I’m not the mum I want to be. No wonder my body is covered with eczema. No wonder I can’t sleep at night.

Here is our standard weekly schedule:

Monday: School drop off 8:30 then straight to our weekly ‘play group’. Home by lunch time. School pick up in the afternoon and home with both girls for the arvo (this is only for the next 4 weeks while Patricks parents are away – usually I go to work after lunch on a Monday and Patricks mum does school pick up and looks after the girls).

Tuesday: Work all day (Patricks day with Evie)

Wednesday: Swimming lessons 9:30. Coffee/craft morning until lunch time. Work in the afternoon (Mum has Evie). Netball practice 7-8:30 (Patrick picks Evie up from Mums after he finishes work and he often cooks dinner and takes Evie to bed).

Thursday: Kindergym in the morning. Playgroup in the afternoon. Dinner with my family. Generally Thursdays are the days when we work on our renovations and on getting things done around the home and garden…. if we get time!

Friday: Staff meeting in the morning. Book appointments, run errands, etc. in the afternoon.

Saturday: Spend morning at home catching up on housework, etc. Netball in the afternoon.

Sunday: Generally a family day. Depending on what is on – often lunches, birthday parties, catch ups – if not, we do a family outing (museum, art gallery, markets, walks, zoo, etc.). Dinner with Patricks family.

PLUS: All of the work involved with Managing our business when I’m not actually there. And running my own part time business. And renovating. And cleaning and cooking and buying groceries. And anything else that you can think of, I’m sure we do it. And not sleeping because I lay awake itching my eczema until it bleeds. If that’s not a sign of stress, I don’t know what it is.

I need to change things. But how? What do you do?

So I said NO to one thing already. Thursday play groups is now removed from my schedule. Ahhh. Breath.

Evie was going to be starting Montessori school group on Friday mornings and music play group on Friday afternoons. Maybe those things are on hold for a little while! How much is too much? I love doing these types of things because it gets us out of our tiny house and Evie enjoys it. But I think I can add those types of things when I am no longer working. There’s not time to do it all. And Evie enjoys time with mummy just as much! If not more.

I’m also trying to cut back my work and take Wednesday afternoons for myself if I can get most things done on Tuesday and only work a couple of hours on Wednesday arvo (today I only went to work for an hour and then took from 4:30-6:30 for myself – aka housework and blogging).

Today I also took a day nap with Evie. I slept for just over an hour!

The last couple of weekends have been very full on and Patrick has been interstate quite a few times over the past month. I don’t think he has many other trips or meetings planned over the next little while (after this weekend) so that will be a nice break for both of us! Evie is sleeping all night now and if only I could actually sleep, our nights will be much more peaceful!

We did some muscle testing the other day and my body says I need a holiday. No shit.

SO a break. A detox. A mind-shift. Some self-improvement. A healthier lifestyle. And learning to say NO to attending things. There’s more to it than just stopping doing things. But let’s start somewhere.

No one likes a nasty mummy and no one wants to raise the child of a nasty mummy. And no one wants to be the person I was on Sunday morning.

Suggestions on ways to de-stress? How to cope with parenthood? How to help eczema? How to sleep better? How to be a better person?!

I learnt what it was like to do ‘the school run’. I take my hat off to all of you who do that everyday… Therefore 10 trips a week! There was nothing bad about it, in fact it was great. But I kept worrying that I would forget to pick Gracie up! You have to plan your whole day around those 2 trips! That takes organisation.

I’m sure Evie learnt something today. She plays and learns everyday!

Gracie learnt that tuna was in fact a fish. Our dinner conversation went something along the lines of…
G: I love tuna mornay!
Dadda: What do you love so much about it?
G: Because I like chicken.
What do you say to that? Without snorting tuna mornay out of your nose in an attempt to conceal your laughter. Beautiful girl.

And Patrick learnt that in order to dry delicate garments you should actually hang them up individually instead of leaving them scrunched up in a ball inside a laundry bag…

What did you learn today? What innocent statement has your child made? Does your partner try and help out but actually ends up making more work?