Tag Archives: awesomely unprepared

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Catching up with Kez (that’s me).

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If you’re fairly new to this blog, there’s probably a good chance you’ve not had a chance to read ALL of my amazing archive of ridiculous posts. If you have, I don’t know whether to congratulate you (and thank you for your loyalty) or to call the authorities! STALKER!!! Don’t worry, I choose the former. I thought I’d put together a post (made up of my older posts) where you can catch up on all that is Awesomely Unprepared!

So I go by the nickname Kez. I am an Aussie 20 something year old (I can’t say that for much longer but let me hold onto it), who lives in the suburbs with my husband (been together for 10 years), my Little Mister (18 months) and our two dogs. I used to have a (now defunct) blog called So I Was Thinking… but when I found out I was pregnant, I felt like I needed a fresh start. I knew I was in for plenty of adventures in parenthood and while I didn’t want to blog just about that (huge) part of my life, I wanted to make a space where I could. I knew life would never be the same again (especially after I had to cancel the Contiki tour – doh). The blog title just came to me and I am a little in love with it, because it really is the story of my life now. I am always feeling awesomely unprepared! I welcomed everybody to my new blog in May 2011, as a relatively non anonymous blogger (scary!) and took my damn time to reveal my pregnancy (although my friends did seem to suspect something was up)!

I really loved the first trimester of pregnancy (although I was too scared to eat anything because I’d read too many books), but boy did sh*t get cray cray by the halfway point! Just when I was starting to discover a domestic goddess that had been hidden deep deep deep within, I got the rare pregnancy condition known as PUPPP (which stands for horrible f*cking rash), gestational diabetes and I waddled a lot because I was quite a big pregnant person. That put an end to my pregnancy induced baking antics quick smart. Pity. I was quite the Masterchef. OK, more like My Kitchen Rules contestant. Ooh, I just made a snobby joke about rival cooking shows (you might not understand if you’re not in Australia – apologies).

I went into labour, because of a freak infection I’d had for the two weeks prior. The Little Mister was born three weeks early – I was in the hospital less than 3 hours before he was delivered via emergency C-section!! How’s that for efficiency?! Well, it was more of a necessity. Luckily I was just lucid enough to choose a name (with Mr Unprepared’s sober help) before the Little Mister was whisked away to another hospital (he was sick too) and we were separated for the first three days of his life. It was an overwhelming time, that’s for sure.

I soon learnt a lot about parenthood. The sleep deprivation, the crazy crazy love you can feel for your child and the strength you need to withstand constant judgement and unsolicited advice from strangers (or people you wish were strangers). I know the true meaning of mess now. I’m still not so awesome at being a domestic goddess, with most efforts ending in vain anyway. I’ve learnt how to be a bit more OK with that.

I am enjoying being a stay at home mum and 18 months in, I still get amazed at how unpredictable life is, but I’m ready to just roll with the punches after the initial shock of parenthood managed to sink in!

It’s fun having a toddler (although the Terrible 2s are approaching fast – crocodile tears central). I love watching the Little Mister grow and learn. He’s a crack up and he makes me very happy. I have particularly enjoyed his attempts to emulate the adults in his life – so amusing watching him pretending to vacuum or talk on the phone. Ever want to know how you child sees you? Just wait until they’re imitating you with embarrassing precision…

I’m getting used to the fact that you have to watch your belongings like a hawk. We lost our remote control for the TV for a month, only to find it in a box filled with mismatched sock during a desperate moment! Lately we’ve had to give the Little Mister his own ‘decoy’ wallet so we don’t lose our own. It’s nuts. Parenthood isn’t a full time job. It’s an over time job. Without pay or sick leave!!!

I’ve certainly learnt to never take me-time for granted. Or travel without children. Or the ability to do things with two hands. Or a disposable income. Guys, I am SO excited because I have a hair appointment for this weekend. The first one in an obscene amount of time. Woot.

If you were to have known me for a while, you would know all about my weird thought patterns and awkward moments. You would also know about my rather unfortunate love of bad TV. Seriously. It takes all my self control to walk past all of the Kardashian related DVDs in my local supermarket every week, without buying all of them. Oh yes. I can cry during soppy reality TV moments with the best of them. Especially if they remind me of the fact that I’m adopted. Cue the ugly cry!

My blog isn’t all about parenthood. Well, not directly (although it seems to creep its way into everything I write about). It chronicles the ups and downs of my attempts to get fit and healthy. I share my love of mushy/inspirational quotes that I find on Pinterest. Yes, I’m a stay at home mum now. I like Pinterest. Goes with the territory. Who am I?! OK, so now I just totally turned you off…you’re leaving…don’t leave…

Wait, here’s a post with a picture of a hot guy at the bottom of it!

Or a picture of me. Because, you know. I’m so hot for a five foot tall, dorky gal who needs to lose 5kg ;)

All caught up now? If that was all too much and you just skimmed over the post (ain’t nobody got time for that!), then here’s my life story in 250 words :)

If you aren’t completely sick of me after all that, you can totally ‘like’ me on Facebook, follow me on Twitter or hide outside my bathroom window. Um, don’t do that last thing. Please.

Thank you to my readers for getting to know me at some point over the past two years or so. I feel so grateful and I love all of my blogging friends. Even the dad ones. Or the real life friends and family who are totally lurking right now and are scared to tell me! ;)

You’re awesome xx

This post is a part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.



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Stuff parents are good at.

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Parenting is hard work and often it is a thankless job. All this talk about controlled crying versus attachment parenting, breast feeding versus bottle feeding, organic home made food versus something from a squeezy foil container. Helicopter parenting versus whatever the opposite of that is. This kind of discipline. That kind of discipline. Parenting techniques and styles up to our eye balls! So many books, “experts” on talk shows, websites, busy bodies at the shops or the park. We’re all busy talking about the BIG things.

Well, I’m here to talk about the ‘little’ things. Those talents and skills parents use (or aspire to – usually in my case) all the time. The things that no-one notices. No-one writes books about or talks about on television. That’s right. I’m going to give props to all you parents who can do the following AWESOME things day in and day out, with very little recognition. You’re welcome.

  • Sneaking into your child’s room to adjust something/check something without waking them.
  • Eating an entire snack without your child noticing.
  • Making it to the toilet and back without anyone interrupting.

OK, so basically, if you’re a ninja of a parent, I salute you.

  • Removing your child from a shopping trolley seat without losing one or both of his/her shoes.
  • That sixth sense you get when you know your child is concealing some kind of not-very-good-for-the-system item in his/her mouth – without actually seeing them put it there.
  • The ability to tune out needless whining and whingeing during arsenic/witching hour and go to a happy place.
  • Finding 50000 ways to say ‘no’ to something, without actually using the word ‘no’ because apparently saying ‘no’ too much can damage a child…or lead to them learning the word ‘no’ (which is much worse)…and having them actually know what you mean…and obey you. This is obviously an aspirational talent for me haha.
  • Finishing a phone call without the person on the other end mentioning your child, because they’re making loud, annoying noises in the background.
  • Distracting your child back to happiness, that last split second before they reach their tantrum tipping point and there’s no going back. THAT is skill. I applaud you. You are amazing.
  • Based on your child’s health/wellbeing/mood/the weather/how much sleep your child had the previous night/the amount of physical activity that day/the environment you are in/the amount of background noise, you can predict exactly how long nap time will go for and when it will occur. Like a boss. Of course, there are always exceptions, but you’re getting pretty good at it.
  • The ability to pack your handbag so full with kid stuff that it’s actually scientifically impossible and defies the laws of spatial capacity (I’m no scientist – I made that up). You know what I mean. You could be hiding a port-a-cot and a bath seat in that bag for all we know! Good job!
  • Not crying when your baby has their immunisation needles. Yes, I mean you.
  • Going to work/on a date/anywhere at all without your child without crumbling from the guilt of it all (or letting anyone else make you feel bad).
  • Mastering the withering stare reserved only for those who give horrible, unsolicited parenting advice. Especially the ones who don’t even have children. For those, you must also master the eye roll.
  • Keeping your child alive. At all. Hey, a few years ago, you couldn’t even raise a goldfish or keep a plant alive (maybe if you’re like me – you still can’t)!
  • Leaving the house without something food based smudged onto any item of your clothing.

Whether you’ve got all of this stuff under control, or you’re still working on it, I applaud you. You’re awesome. Parenting is one of those games where the goal posts are constantly shifting and you’ll often feel unprepared, underqualified and understaffed to deal with it. But you’re awesome. Awesomely Unprepared.

What obscure parenting skills are you good at?

This post is part of the Blog Every Day in May challenge.



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Never say never. All the things we did “wrong” last week.

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Sometimes life just calls on you to break ALL of the rules. You just can’t be awesomely prepared all the time. Um…have you read this blog? The title is kind of a dead giveaway, really. As a first time parent, you get all of these ideas. So funny. What were you thinking? I had ideas. Stuff about routines. Stuff about travel. Saving money. Nutrition. Blah blah blah. Occasionally, you just need to accept that things won’t go to plan in life. Just go with the flow. Know that it’s not forever and laugh about it.

At least that’s what I had to do when my grandfather passed away and all of a sudden we had to jump into action. Not planning on taking a toddler on an aeroplane until he was old enough to (attempt to) reason with? Forget about it! Having a long(ish) term plan for a visit to family in which you could plot it all out and save the moolah for it? Forget about it!

We just had to bite the bullet and do what we needed to do.

And you know what? It didn’t kill us.

I’m as surprised as you are.

For a week, we relaxed the ‘rules’ and we adapted to our situation as best we could.

We took a toddler on a plane. Before I was mentally prepared. Holy crap. Under the umbrella of taking a toddler on a plane, there are many rules to be broken. For us, it was screen time. We just sat him on our laps (OK so it was my husband’s lap mostly due to my bruised coccyx) and hoped he’d stare at the inflight entertainment screen FOREVER. I was prepared to bribe the Little Mister with any amount of snacks necessary, but luckily that was never an issue! I just didn’t want to be the most hated family on the plane! I was so awesomely unprepared for this plane journey, I’m not even joking. After our first interstate travel with the Little Mister at 3 months of age, I kind of thought that I’d be able to take months to plan the next one. Research a lot, prepare several strategies for looking after him, gather all necessary items that might help make the trip easier…yeah, right! Dream on, Kez!

Luckily the gods were smiling on us. Although, they don’t deserve all the credit. The Little Mister should get a billion and one gold stars. He was a champ. Both ways. Not kidding. Miracles do happen. He got restless on the way home, which was terribly frustrating and made the trip drag a lot, but he never bitched about it or annoyed anyone else. Hey, he can annoy his parents all he likes, as long as we’re not chased off the plane by a pitchfork wielding mob. Although, the pitchforks would probably be made out of blunt plastic…security and all.

We put our kid on a leash. I’m not kidding. If you are not a parent, you are horrified by this. I know that I was. I had my principles. Oh, God. Look at those terrible parents who have their toddler on a leash. Ugh, and they have the gall to disguise it as some kind of cute monkey/teddy bear/butterfly back pack. Let’s just call it what it is. A leash. Surely they can just discipline their child better than that, so they don’t need a freakin’ leash? I will never do that to my children! NEVER! Children aren’t ANIMALS! NEVERRRRRRRR!!!!

So…it turns out that it’s actually called a child restraint (I know – doesn’t sound much better). Also, I’ve discovered that it’s not so much about being cruel to your child as it is kind. They believe they’re being grown up and independent, because they can walk (or just try to slide all over the floor while people are looking – whatevs), rather than be cooped up in someone’s arms or a stroller. Also, it keeps them safe. I figure a child on a leash is far better than a lost child, because a lost child is any parent’s absolute worst nightmare. I could hold hands with the Little Mister everywhere we went as he toddled about (while he was attached to my wrist), but the thought of someone being able to snatch him and run so easily kind of makes me feel queasy. Yeah, and I’m not even the most paranoid mum you’ll ever meet.

Having the restraint (his is a very cute monkey thank you very much!) was a quick way to keep the Little Mister out of trouble as we navigated through airports (especially when our stroller was checked into luggage). Also, as wrong as it will look written down, when we waited in a terminal for a flight, holding the “tail” of the “monkey” from a much needed seated position while the Little Mister “explored” a (very) small space was very useful.

Much like Mia Freedman’s quote in this iVillage post about restraints, I was shocked to learn that I was once a child in a restraint. I don’t remember it at all and I haven’t needed therapy over it, so that’s comforting. I really don’t see the problem, if it’s used wisely as a safe, parenting tool. The Little Mister is a very well behaved little man (most of the time), but he’s also very very curious and wants to explore. This can be difficult in busy, public places for a 17 month old!

The Little Mister had several carers a day. Every day. Usually this would be a little bit challenging. Just because he can get a bit over-stimulated with all the activity and varied caring styles. We were with so many family members constantly and because the home we were staying in (thanks to the generosity of relatives who were so kind to have us) was not childproofed (nor would we have expected it to be), this became necessary. I just didn’t have enough sets of eyes in my own head to keep up all day, every day. I also struggled with my bruised coccyx, which made it difficult to physically intervene in some precarious toddler discipline situations and lifting the Little Mister from the ground felt near on impossible for a while. While every single person who helped take care of the Little Mister was so generous, loving and definitely trustworthy, everyone had a different way of dealing with him. Some were stricter than others. Some used a little bribery. Everyone gave cuddles. Played games. Spoilt him to bits.

I wouldn’t change this for the world. He connected with my relatives (who we only see occasionally due to the great distance between us) and they bonded. So what if he was a little bit crazy by the end of the day? He’d have to adjust back to a smaller (and less generous) entourage sooner or later. A small price to pay for an invaluable experience.

Healthy diet? What the hell is that?? For the first year of the Little Mister’s life, I was a very strict mama when it came to the Little Mister’s diet. I had to know absolutely every ingredient in his food and I restricted his sugar and salt intake religiously. I’m still quite strict, because if he’s anything like his mum and dad, chocolate, ice cream and chips will be his cryptonite and if he can hold off for a while, then we’ll have less battles to fight. He does love his food, so I want what he puts in his body to be as healthy as possible, especially while I have control over it.

In saying that, this week away meant eating out. It meant going to places where not all adult food on a menu was share-able and not all kids menu items were healthy. In fact none of them were. Could I have kicked up a fuss about it and tried a little harder? Of course, but did it really matter a couple of times during the week? Nope. Now that we’re home, I’m quite relieved to give the Little Mister a chip free diet again, but has he complained and screamed that he only wants chips? Nope! He’s young enough for me to get away with it (I know I might not always be this lucky) and I think he knew that eating out was different to eating in. His favourite snack while we were away, regardless of all the not so awesome ‘sometimes’ foods he was exposed to, was seedless grapes – so I hope that means I’ve done something right :)

One bad week won’t wreck him for life and I’m cool with that. It happens so sparingly, it’s not going to make him some kind of obese, chip monster for the rest of his days. It’s not a life sentence and nothing bad happened. He got so much exercise running about on my aunty and uncle’s rural property, that we figured he was doing OK.

Regular nap times? Um…no. We were on the go a lot and we were in a different environment. Admittedly, the Little Mister was a bit overstimulated with people, noises and activity. He wanted to be a part of the action when we were ‘home’ and he was often forced to take a quick half hour nap in the car (he can never sleep long in the car unless it’s night time). This was all the sleep he’d get in a day. It was all he thought he wanted. I used to stress out about this, but I realised that he’s one of those kids who can take it. He just slept better at night – despite us sharing a room with him. While I expected there to be an adjustment period when we got home, it turns out he was so tired he returned to longer nap times with great excitement. Literally. The happy look on his face when placed in his cot says it all!

If we had stuck to nap times at ‘home’ (my aunty and uncle’s place where we stayed), trying to make him sleep longer, we would have been fighting a losing battle. We just went with the flow and we knew that if he really couldn’t take it any more he would tell us and probably just fall asleep again. He never did and we just let it be.

We all relaxed more and got to do great things and see people who were very important to us. It was worth it. We all would have missed out on so much if we’d been sticklers.

The evening bath time routine wasn’t a goer. It was far more effective to have the Little Mister shower with his daddy first thing in the morning. It saved water (a precious commodity when the house we were staying in relied on rainwater tanks) and time and fitted in better with our holiday routine. The Little Mister proved to be flexible and resilient about the whole thing – we just enjoyed his happy smile when he had his first bath at home again :)

We stayed in the room to comfort him until he fell asleep. This is something we haven’t done at home in a long time. Mostly because a toddler can figure out how to exploit you reeeally quickly. Also, because he hasn’t really needed us at bed time like he did when he was younger. However, we were in a different environment and we had to share a bedroom anyway. This quelled the Little Mister’s anxiety and because he was so tired after a huge day, once he was asleep, he was out to it. It felt right, so we went with it. We had peaceful evenings with the rest of our family and the Little Mister felt comforted and safe.

When we got home, he LOVED being in his own room almost as much as we did. Balance was restored and we haven’t had a problem. He knows his own bed and he knows he’s safe at home where it’s quieter and he has a routine.

Sleep time blankie? Sure, you can have it when you’re not in bed. Well, it was just the once. In the airport. He loves his little giraffe blankie so much – lights up when he sees it. We wanted him to stay calm and happy, as well as encourage sleepy feelings for when we boarded the plane home. Normally I would be concerned that this might start an addiction to having a security blanket all hours of the day, but really, he was cool. Now that we’re home, he doesn’t cry out for Mr Giraffey during the day and accepts that if he steals him from his cot, he is going back there with Mummy’s help! Same went for the dummy. If he needed it, he needed it. We were asking a lot of a 17 month old, so fair was fair.

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I think that around the time the Little Mister turned one, I felt like it was OK to relax a little when required. He was ready. Sometimes he won’t eat everything that’s good for him, sometimes he’ll need extra comfort when he’s away from home. I won’t always be his primary carer and that’s going to have to be OK. I feel like we’re trying to teach him the value of routine and good habits, but also to be flexible and resilient. To enjoy a break from the “every day” sometimes. I just trust that he knows the difference between being at home with Mummy and Daddy’s rules/ways of doing things and being at someone else’s home or a different environment. As long as we provide him with a safe haven where he knows what to expect (and what is expected of him), why not let him go and explore other places, people and ways of doing things? It seemed to work well enough when we made the crazy (but right) decision to go camping a couple of months ago!

We are exceptionally lucky to have such a happy go lucky kid. I do not take it for granted for a single second. I think what I’m saying is that we know our own kids and what their limits are better than anyone else does. There’s no harm in exploring that and learning as we go. We all have good days and bad days. I think the message I’m trying to get across is that we don’t have to stress so much when things get a little topsy turvy and routines get broken. It’s not forever and sometimes we can all enjoy ourselves so much more if we let go. Just for a little while. We’ll know when it’s time to rein it in. It’s all about trusting ourselves and our little ones more.

I’ve learnt to give the Little Mister more credit. He’s just always surprising me and I wouldn’t know just how well he can handle travel or the craziness if I hadn’t been forced into giving him a chance.

Now that we’re home, the Little Mister is understandably very tired and wondering where all of his posse are – the house is much quieter. But we’re cool. He’s not scarred for life. We haven’t slid into a downward spiral of bad parenting and an obese juvenile delinquent in the making (plenty of time for that). Everyone’s fine and I love that kid to bits for it.

We didn’t know we would be travelling interstate again so soon. But you know what? Sh*t happens. Sometimes it really is a blessing in disguise and it forced me out of my comfort zone. We survived and we had a great time. I wouldn’t change it for the world.

What “rules” have you broken lately? How do you feel about routines?

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The Case of the Missing TV Remote Control.

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On Monday, March 4, 2013 some time around the witching hour (also sometimes known as ‘arsenic hour’), a black LG TV remote control disappeared from its usual place of inhabitance. One Husband Unprepared (30), an unwitting witness in this case, claimed that he had last seen it when he turned on the television to watch Some Boring Show About Cars (may have paraphrased). The whereabouts of the remote are still unknown.

One suspect is within the sights of law enforcement and has been questioned extensively.

A transcript below:

Investigator: Hey, Little Mister. Where have you put the remote control, mate? Where is it? Where is it?

Little Mister remains tight lipped and flees the scene on a musical dolphin scooter, before he is apprehended once again. Things are looking suspicious.

Investigator: Come on. We know that you took it somewhere. Can you show me where it is? Where’s the remote? Come on, where is it?

Little Mister: Heyooooo *waves*

Investigator: Is it under the couch? In the couch? Behind the TV cabinet? In your toy room? Come on, give it up!

Little Mister: *indistinguishable*

A search was promptly carried out upon the Awesomely Unprepared premises, with leads from the public very valuable. Unfortunately, these leads led to dead ends and the search was abandoned at bath/bottle/bed time.

It has been confirmed that the remote control is not in the following places:

  • On/under/in the couch.
  • Under the fridge.
  • Down the sides of all cabinets/inside all cabinets.
  • In the toy boxes and shelves.
  • In the kitchen cupboard or drawers.
  • The dishwasher.
  • The washing baskets/piles of laundry.
  • Kez’s hand bag.
  • The nappy bag.
  • Inside the occupants’ shoes.
  • The toilets.
  • The bath.
  • The home office.
  • The spare room.
  • The Little Mister’s bedroom (all nooks, gaps, cupboards and baskets accounted for).
  • The lounge room.
  • The play pen.
  • The back of the Little Mister’s Cozy Coupe car.
  • Inside the pram.
  • All window sills.
  • Bins (confirmed by elbow deep search by Husband Unprepared after losing mini discussion over who should do it).
  • All adult height surfaces.
  • All of the home’s bed coverings.
  • The oven.
  • The microwave.
  • The washing machine.
  • Abandoned empty nappy boxes.
  • The high chair.

And several other areas, too numerous to mention.

While the search team remain hopeful of finding the remote control alive and in good working order, it is not known just how long it will take to make a successful rescue.

The suspect has been placed under close surveillance in the hopes that he will lead investigators to the hidden remote. This technique has been known to work with dogs, but success with human toddlers is yet to be determined.

There has been interest shown by local media in covering the case, but the suspect is reluctant to speak in case of incriminating himself. He appears to have developed his own language in order to avoid being caught via phone taps or bugging devices. Experts are trying to piece together his unique speech patterns, which sound much like the wild ramblings of a toddler as this report goes live.

644484_10151352241873218_919064556_nThis shot was taken of the suspect by a current affairs television show, when he was found hiding out on a luxury cruise liner.

For now, the Awesomely Unprepared family has found a compatible remote from another household television which will have to suffice until the correct remote is located. This cautionary tale has brought into question universal household protocol when dealing with remote controls in the future, to avoid repeat incidences. Investigators are reluctant to blame any adults at this time, but may suggest that a review into the Husband Unprepared’s habitual placement of the remote on the arm of the couch, may be needed. Kez Unprepared will smugly maintain that she has always kept the remotes above toddler reaching height.

If you should have any information pertaining to this case, or ideas pertaining to previous cases, please do not hesitate to comment on Facebook or tweet. If you are a toddler, there is a special hotline you can call on your toy phone. The number is 1, 2, 3, 4 or alternatively you can mash a bunch of buttons until a teddy bear picks up.

The Awesomely Unprepared family thanks you for your time and efforts.

 

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Little Mister’s First Camping Trip: Before.

ad869d84bd1e568da22cdf5625f63fd1_largePic: This looks nothing like my experience!

I have been camping in tents and camper vans since I was literally fresh off the plane at five months old (I was adopted in case you’re reading that and wondering what the hell that means)! My parents started these amazing family traditions that have carried all the way into my adulthood and I always knew that when I had a child/children of my own, I would like to continue it with a new generation! In fact, the idea has always made me feel quite sentimental! I’ve had my own tent/s and ‘camping kits’ (full of the basics everyone should have for a quick trip) since I was a tween and I’m usually pretty well prepared!

The idea of taking the Little Mister on his first ever camping trip at the age of 14/15 months, however, scared the crap out of me and I lived up to the title of this blog: Awesomely Unprepared! :)

This wasn’t going to be as easy as throwing a tent, crappy mattress, my camping ‘kit’ (which stays completely assembled in a sealed plastic crate in the shed all year round) and some clothes (thrown hastily into a bag at the last minute) in the back of our spacious car! This was going to be serious! We were moving HOUSE for a week (as you do – even for a day – when you have a toddler or baby)!! We’d need a port-a-cot, sippy cups, baby cutlery, baby bowls, bottles, steriliser (we went for a powered tent site), dummies (pacifiers), extra towels, wipes galore, nappies (a week’s worth), etc etc etc!!!

We had to plan ahead like never before! None of this procrastination sh*t!! We even had ‘family meetings’ with my parents to prepare. We had to decide on when to go – the best time being when school goes back after the summer holidays (quieter) and who would take what. We also had discussions about which caravan/camping parks would be best for having a toddler around and we concluded that the same park we’d stayed in annually for most of my own childhood was best suited to us. It had open spaces for a little one to run around, we had been there for MANY years since I was about one year old myself, so we were familiar with what challenges and facilities there would be. We knew the activities we would be able to undertake at only walking distance from the park, as well as the good places to take a drive, have a nice walk or hang out.

Now that I’ve mentioned that we went with my parents, it’s a good time to give some advice! If possible, take your first camping trip with someone who’s been there before or is a very helpful person/couple. It made our trip possible! I was too daunted to do this with only my husband and I! I needed someone around who had done this before (for moral support and good advice) and who would be able to offer the extra few hands when needed!

Because time would be limited when I would be free to pack properly, with my husband working Monday to Friday (like a “normal” person) these days, I decided to be as prepared as I could and the packing/organising process started very early. Gone are the days of ridiculous procrastination!!! A week out, I planned our afternoons (the period between my husband getting home from work and the start of the Little Mister’s night time routine) so that if we worked flat out, we could relax in the evenings once the Little Mister was in bed. I simply do not have the energy to bother with all that crap late into the night like I used to! I found that this would work best because trying to do everything on my own with the Little Mister (who was teething like CRAY CRAY) just wasn’t going to happen.

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My husband looked at me funny, when he accidentally caught a glimpse of my day planner, but bless his Explorer socks from Woolies, he just let me do my thing!

PS? It worked! It resulted in less stress all round and when we fell into bed (at like 8:30pm because we were knackered) we felt relaxed, instead of annoyed, anxious or (I speak just for myself here) making mental lists of things to do/pack all through the wee hours of the night!

There was practical stuff to think of on our day of departure too. Like making sure that the supplies the Little Mister would need for the drive (approx 3 hours including stops), such as food, wipes, nappies, etc were packed right next to his car seat and easy to grab. We had some roof space (some new racks and a great cargo basket), so we put the things we’d need to set up straight away – tent, tables, etc on top. That way, we’d save time when we arrived – something that’s important when you’re trying to juggle tent poles and toddlers at the same time!

Something that was just as important as the practical stuff, was the mental preparation. We went into this experience with realistic hopes and expectations. Would this be relaxing? Probably not! Would it be hard work? Most certainly. Would it feel like the camping holidays we had before children? HELL NO! Once we let go of the old expectations of a summer camping holiday (memories of sitting for hours in a camp chair reading magazines and novels, long spontaneous walks on the beach with only your romantic partner, packing and unpacking with both hands, eating nibblies in peace etc), we were ready to take on the trip. You think I’m not selling this experience very well? Well, it was amazing. It was just that. An experience! Seeing the Little Mister running about in the dirt, acclimatising to all these new sights and sounds, spending quality time with us (no TVs, limited phone use, no housework, boring daily errands – nothing to take us away from him) was priceless.

With the right headspace and the right mental preparation, we were able to enjoy the holiday so much more.

So, in summary, here is my unsolicited advice on first-time camping with a toddler:

- Plan where and when ahead of time. It takes away the risk of finding a place is too busy, booked out or not the safest/nicest environment for your little dude or lady.

- Go with someone who has had kids (grandparents are ideal) and camping experience or who can provide an extra bunch of hands. They’re great for moral support and for making the experience more pleasurable. Many hands can make light(er) work.

- Start packing early. Don’t procrastinate. The experience leading up will contain less arguments, more mental space and everyone will be on the same page. Work out a packing/checking of gear/shopping for supplies schedule that works around your work hours/life schedule/toddler routines and you’ll be breathing easy by the time the big day of departure arrives (rather than being exhausted and grumpy as hell – not the best way to start a holiday)! I worked from the heavy, big stuff (tent, camp stove etc) and the stuff that didn’t need to be used until the last minute, working towards the things like phone chargers, baby stuff and toiletries which are harder to pack early.

- Plan the packing of your vehicle for convenience. Stuff you’ll need first when you arrive should be easy to find/pull out of your car. Things like a day bag for your toddler’s journey there need to be really handy for quick nappy changes or snack times.

- Get mentally prepared. Be realistic. It won’t be ALL sunshine, laughter and easygoing fun. There will be challenges along the way. You’ll have to be extra vigilant. You will have a dirtier, more tired, extra curious toddler to run around after! If you have a positive mindset, you will realise this is more for them than for you and the joy you will find (despite being exhausted) will be priceless. An amazing memory of a great ‘first’ for your family.

Read the next post about the during and after of our holiday here x

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It’s that time of year again!

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So last Christmas was the Little Mister’s first Christmas ever. So that was really cool. I dressed him in a cute outfit (it was wrecked by lunchtime probably) and everybody clucked over the new addition to the family. He was probably around one and a half months old then (I’m no mathematician). He slept and had his milk. Cried occasionally. The usual newborn baby thing. You know how it is (or not – how would I know) haha.

I like to think of this Christmas (2012) as his second first Christmas. This year the Little Mister is a toddler! He is moving around by himself (when he’s not crash tackle hugging people), he’s eating new foods and he’s ‘talking’ a lot. He understands when something exciting is happening (cue clapping and smiling and whole body wiggling) and he can take in so much more of his surroundings! He wants to know what the world is about and he’s so curious. This has really brought out my Christmas spirit. Last year I felt the excitement of our first Christmas as a little family. This year is all about sharing it with the Little Mister :)

I’m really excited about the fact that he can stay awake (sometimes painfully so – but we’ll look at the positives) more, feed himself (my husband and I may not have to take turns not eating on Christmas day this year – a true gift), and run about exploring and playing. SO COOL.

OK, so I haven’t really bought many presents yet (despite the usual good intentions to start earlier – we all know how that works out), but I have really enjoyed decorating the Christmas tree. I might have bought over 150 new baubles this year. Despite already owning a full set. I’ve become a little bit more nuts than I already was last year. I’m starting to get delusional ideas that I might be able to change colour themes EVERY YEAR. However, the storage space in my house (and probably my husband) say “not so much”. However, I am pretty sure this problem will take care of itself, because so far we have lost a few baubles to the bin fairy on account of *ahem* vigourous handling…who could be responsible for that? I don’t know…

The Christmas tree is encased in a big, colourful play pen. Next year we need a bigger play pen. The branches stick out a bit at the bottom and I’m not entirely sure there’s enough room in there for all the presents. The tree looks AMAZING (if I do say so myself) …well, until you glance about half way down, where the decorations suddenly become very sparse. It is the epitome of a childproofed Christmas tree. Maybe someone should invent festive tree decorations that also double as child safe teething toys (BPA and chemical free blah blah blah). Problem solved. SERIOUSLY. SOMEONE SHOULD REALLY DO THIS. DO I HAVE TO THINK OF EVERYTHING?!?!?!

tumblr_me09wqoOGH1rlf48uo1_500_largePic: That kid is about to eat or break something. I just know it.

On another note, it turns out that Santa is just some scary individual who hangs out at the shops tormenting toddlers and babies. His big fake beard and glasses ensure that your child cannot tell if he is friendly or not, so worrying about whether you want the cute photo package that includes wallet photos and a keyring vs just the standard six photo prints becomes the least of your concerns when the bawling begins!

Also turns out that the jolly sounds of “Ho Ho Ho – Merry Christmas” are actually a deep, intimidating boom to a toddler and doesn’t actually make them feel any more joyful. In fact, picture the opposite result.

While other sensible parents might just say, “OK, let’s just avoid Santas from now on”, my husband and I (after awkwardly abandoning the photo shoot with shopping centre Santa) decided that it’s time to desensitise the Little Mister. You know, because we’re totally child psychology experts (don’t ask me about my actual real life degree in behavioural science and my half a degree – totally counts – in childhood education because I’ve just blown all credibility by writing this blog). He clearly hasn’t had enough Christmas-ifying yet! We started saying “Santa” repeatedly while looking positively, dementedly could-possibly-be-smoking-crazy-drugs-but-we-wouldn’t-because-we’re-responsible-parents happy (hoping it will create a positive association). We bought a Santa hat at the supermarket and started saying, “Ho Ho Ho” in various voices and tones to him, while wearing the hat. This brought mixed results. As well as the sight of us being ridiculous.

We started saying “Merry Christmas” a lot and clapping, because clapping means you’re happy. I started showing the Little Mister Santa movies (still waiting for Elf – my FAVOURITE), even though I’m a perfect parent who NEVER lets my child watch a television (hahaha I’m hilarious).

May I add that my father in law wants to dress as Santa for Christmas this year to hand out the gifts?

I’ll let you know how it all works out.

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1 year of parenting. What I didn’t expect.

In another week, I will have been a parent for a whole entire year. It’s nuts. I have no idea what’s happened. Seriously, what just happened??

In some ways it feels like it’s been a decade, and in other ways it feels like it’s been, oh…about 30 seconds. Blink and you miss it. That kind of feeling. I just don’t understand how it’s actually possible to fit that much craziness into only a year! 12 months of everything from taking a brand new baby home from hospital, to watching him grow and develop into an almost toddler and worrying about every little thing in between!

So in the spirit of my blog’s name (Awesomely Unprepared), I will celebrate my year of parenting by sharing with you the things that I was Awesomely Unprepared for over the past year :)

OK, so I’ll get the mushy one out of the way. I was not prepared for the ridiculous love that I would feel for my own offspring. I mean, you hear about it, read about it and have an understanding or imagining of what it might be like, but until it happens, you can never really know it. At least it was like that for me. I would do anything to protect my Little Mister. I have become like a fierce mama *insert powerful beast/dinosaur/thing you saw in a movie of your choosing here* and I am constantly surprised by the things that make me feel brave and courageous when it comes to doing right by my Little Mister. Of course, with this ridiculous baby love comes the hot mess that is me every time I see a news story about babies. Also any movie about babies. Any documentary about babies. Any picture of a baby. Basically anything that seems like it could be to do with babies. It can be happy stuff or it can be sad stuff. It can be ANYTHING and suddenly I have tears in my eyes and I’m doing that snotty blubbery thing. I now know what people mean when they say that their love for their child gets them through something. When something happens to a child that is a parent’s worst nightmare, I actually truly understand how horrific that really is. Don’t even get me started on the starving children of the world or I might not be able to finish this blog post.

I’ll be honest. Before I was pregnant and even during, I scoffed at the idea that mums can get all clucky when their first child grows out of infanthood. I thought, really?! Why would you want to go back to that whole crazy stage of life? Why are you looking back wistfully?? Do you really remember how crazy that time of life was?! Don’t you want your child to grow up and be a great, healthy, independent being?? But now that the Little Mister is almost one year old, I kind of understand it. I guess that’s how second, third, and nineteenth kids are conceived. Don’t worry, everyone. I’m not that clucky yet – I have a lot of stuff to forget before I can go there again! I just now realise that as my little baby gets bigger, smarter and is even almost walking, he’s going to soon just look like any other grotty kid on the playground instead of my beautiful, sweet smelling fluffy haired cuddle bug – although, he’ll be my beautiful grotty kid. So, I admit it. I get it now. Geez! In saying that, I am so excited for what the future brings (even if it sometimes scares the living daylights out of me)!

I’m not as cool as I thought I would be. There. I said it. I always pictured myself as being a really responsible, good parent (able to do both discipline and fun) who just also happened to be super awesomely cool too. Like, I thought I would wear really awesome clothes and not really change a thing once the Little Mister popped out. While I do play him great music and I haven’t turned into a Stepford wife/mum (well there was little chance of that haha), I do dress differently. I do drive a station wagon style vehicle (you’ll find that calling it a sports wagon and putting cool stickers on it doesn’t really disguise it at all but keep telling yourself that – I’m just a whisker away from having those awful stick figure families stuck to the back window). I don’t wear short skirts, bikinis, or show off my cleavage (what’s left of it). The sad truth is that not only has my body changed, but so has my attitude. I’ve become all, “Is that practical?”

Booooring.

Also? Babies cost a lot of money. Not like off the black market, silly. Just to keep one alive and stuff. I mean, I knew that having a baby would be a bit expensive. I was the one lecturing my husband on the realities of what we were in for. Turns out I was slightly ignorant. I mean, just like that whole “love for your child” thing I described earlier, there’s a difference between knowing what to expect and actually living it! Therefore, my cool factor is suffering because I can’t buy many new clothes (had to have a ridiculous purging of my ‘stuff that no longer fits’) and I can’t buy ALL OF THE iTUNES. Yeah, my definition of ‘cool’ isn’t even that cool anymore – what, fool? You think being cool is just music and clothes? How pedestrian. Hipsters be hatin’.

If you are just you, or just you and a plus one at this point…imagine how outraged you are when you buy two puny bags of groceries at the supermarket and it’s like $50 and you’re like WTF? That’s ridonkulous!! Add a box of disposable nappies ($30) and a tin of formula ($20) almost every time. Then when you’re pregnant and you’re all, “I’m gonna save money and the environment by using cloth nappies and breastfeeding only”…but it doesn’t quite go to plan and your trendy, expensive (at least for initial outlay) cloth nappies sit unused because you were too scared to use them, plus the breastfeeding thing didn’t quite work out…I mean, not that I’m talking about me here…OK I am. Yeah, you get where I’m going with that.

My husband and I now have a strict budget for each pay fortnight, which we routinely break, but we do it with an educated mind at least? The damage we inflict on our cards is much less (I feel) than it would have been before we started planning better. Yep. I never thought I would actually have to account for every single last cent. Literally. I mean, I was always frugal and very sensible before, but now I have a new meaning for ‘sensible’ and it doesn’t always include a copy of TV Week or a sneaky item of clothing here and there!

I still swear a lot. Seriously. I thought about implementing a swear jar in our house, but then realised I would just swear more because the Little Mister would be receiving the money. You know, for a good cause and all that. So, I’m still working on it. I had no idea how much I don’t give a ship about some things, and how other things can get firetrucked. I really need to be better. Parent fail.

A few years ago, if you were to tell me that you had this great job opportunity for me: It involves very little sleep for a few months, you’re on call 24 hours a day, you will have to pay your own way (ie it’s volunteer work), and it’s messy. Basically, you’ll be wiping someone’s poo and vomit up – for no pay. Daily. Relentlessly. No sick leave. No entitlements. No annual leave. Your employer can’t speak your language, will yell a lot to get what they want and won’t even smile at you for the first six weeks. Also, it will be the most happy time of your life.

I would have thought you were batsh*t crazy.

But it happened. I love it. Sure, occasionally I love it a little less than usual…but I wouldn’t trade this job for the world. I really really hoped I would feel this way when I eventually had a child, but to see that it has become my reality thrills me.

It’s been one year and I am (just to toot my own horn) really amazed at what I’m capable of as a parent and as a person. Having the Little Mister has shown me what I’m made of and I have realised I don’t mind what I’m made of at all. I mean, none of us are perfect, but I feel so happy to know I really am strong and able to love so much. I can’t wait for the many years ahead as we learn and grow together.

Here’s to a year of parenting :)

To see what else I’ve written to celebrate a year of the Little Mister, click here :)

Like Awesomely Unprepared on Facebook xx

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It’s messy and it’s moving!

Pic: My house after a meal with the Little Mister

So the Little Mister is almost eight and a half months old. Where the hell has that time gone? How can each day be so long, but the weeks (and months) so short? Each time he reaches a new milestone I feel torn between grieving the gorgeous little baby ways he’s moved on from and shouting to the rooftops about how amazed and impressed I am with how he is growing and developing before my very eyes!

This seems to be a crazy time of his little life! He’s developing so fast it’s all a blur! He’s less like an infant and more like a toddler (who can’t toddle yet)! He’s a boy and not just a baby! Aaaargh!

He’s commando crawling, making “Mum” and “Dad” and “Nan” sounds, waving and clapping! He also has two teeth now, with a horrible third one on the way. What a champ!

Also? It’s getting really messy around here. I started introducing the Little Mister to finger foods and he really loves the concept of feeding himself. He already loves his food so much that he’s become all empowered and wants to try spoon feeding himself too. In other words, grabbing the spoon from me while it’s full of food, shaking half the food off so it splatters onto the floor/himself/the highchair/me and then shoving it in his mouth forever until he decides it needs reloading at which point he will drop it on the tray or pass it to me. Which is really cute and makes me think about how smart he is and how my baby is the smartest baby there is (biased much?), all the while trying my hardest not to stop the whole world and clean everything up every two seconds.

As food flies through the air (literally), I have to take a deep breath and repeat to myself, “Mess is OK. We can clean this up later. Stay on track and don’t interrupt his learning. Breathe. Breathe again. Mess is good. This is constructive mess. CONSTRUCTIVE MESS. MUST NOT INTERFERE YET. OMFG. THE MESS. I HAVE TO DO THIS THREE MORE TIMES TODAY?!!!”

I’m not even a neat freak and it gives me the shakes! My favourite part is when he grabs a chunk of food in his hands and rubs it through his hair as if it’s hair gel. He only ever rubs his hands through his hair like that when he’s eating. So weird. And inconvenient. He also likes to grab a chunk of food in each hand and laugh while he waves it dangerously close to me, all squished up and soggy! Sometimes his spoon is the best drumstick, used to beat his tray. It’s also fun when he fills his mouth and then sneezes…on me.

When he’s getting about the house he drools on everything. The floor, his bib (until it’s soaking wet), the couch, his toys (fair enough – he is shoving them in his mouth after all), my legs, my face, my shoulders, my clothes, his clothes. EVERYTHING! Even more fun when he shakes his little body up after a meal (all that time scooting about on his belly ought to do it) and has a bit of a vom! Everyone loves that bitter smell, right?

By the end of the day, I am so relieved he’s getting a really good bath. I look at him all soggy, crusty and smelly (not in that amazing soft, milky newborn way anymore I’m afraid) as he grins at me…trying to climb out of the bath or stand up in it (he loves to live on the edge) and feel nothing but love. They say that babies are the most beautiful when they’re sleeping (which is SOOOO very true) but I would like to add that they are also the most beautiful right after a bath. Or first thing in the morning before they’ve drooled on anything or eaten anything. So fresh and so clean clean!

Honestly, I am finding my workload is increasing by a million bajillion times, but I’m adapting and I choose every day to laugh about it all. He might be noisy, messy and on the move but he’s also hilarious, sweet and surprising me every day with what he’s learning. I wouldn’t have it any other way!

Also, something tells me that I ain’t seen nothin’ yet. What’s that saying about boys? Something something, snails and puppy dog tails? I seem to remember photos of my brother and I eating dirt at some point. Don’t even get me started on what adolescent boys smell like. I went to a co-ed highschool. I know my stuff. The Little Mister’s feet already smell a little bit sweaty after a day in socks. I’m screwed!

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Baby shopping. Baby product shopping. Not shopping for actual babies…

Pic: These signs lead to stores full of baby things

Following some recent conversations with friends (both pregnant and yet-to-be), I had memories flood back to me about those first months of (first time) pregnancy where everything was so overwhelming! I remember thinking, wow there’s going to be a real life human baby in my house at some point – what crazy nonsense is this?! I’m going to have to buy it stuff and I don’t even know what all that “stuff” is!!! Oh, God help me!

OMG! ZOMG! OMFG! (yeah that’s right – I can abbreviate with the best of the cool kids)

I remember going “shopping” for the baby (now known as the Little Mister of course) where all I’d do is stare at everything and realise that having so many “options” meant every decision was 15 times harder. I would go home empty handed with loads of information swimming around in my head after I’d drilled the shop staff for all sorts of facts about prams, cots and car seats! I’d then put it all off for another few weeks while I tried to pretend it wasn’t happening (luckily I started my “shopping” expeditions fairly early in the piece – start of second trimester I believe).

If I could say one thing to those who are in that same boat right now, it would be: Don’t panic. It will actually all come together. You’re a smart woman/man and you want what’s best for your baby. It does all start to click eventually :)

It’s so funny how we can conquer so many new skills in life – just see a challenge and go for it. We complete university degrees, buy houses, plan massive holidays in strange places, drive out to old Aunty Whatsit’s place in the middle of nowhere without a decent road map, plan wedding extravaganzas and start small businesses…yet we freak out at the idea of buying a few things for a new baby!

I spent a lot of time asking friends with babies (and my mum) what they found useful in the early days. I asked them what they found irritating and whether I could avoid those irritations/inconveniences myself. I got over my fear of looking stupid in front of baby product shop staff and just asked them whatever I wanted to know. I visited places several times until I could go there without having a mental breakdown and everything started to seem more familiar and not so scary!

While I had a bit of a budget to stick to, I didn’t obsess over getting the very very very best price on everything. If I could save $10 by going to some shop a bajillion miles from home, it wasn’t worth it while I was heavily pregnant and very confused (not to mention you’d spend the $10 “savings” on fuel to get there anyhow). If I found what I liked and it was good value for money, I just went home with it or made a plan to come back for it as soon my funds would let me. Gotta weigh up the stress factor vs everything else. I’d feel great every time I could tick something off the list.

My strategy was also to make sure I had all the “will need it in the hospital or the day we leave hospital” stuff. The stuff you can’t make it without in that first week or so. After that, things can come together at a moment’s notice if need be and the people in your life can be really helpful running about for you (some will even bug you until you let them do something so you may as well let them feel useful) if you have a lovely support network to call on. It helped me focus and not think of forgetting a few little things as the end of the world.

How did I pick the big stuff (you know – the really intimidating stuff)? Mind if I share? (that was rhetorical haha)

Cot
All I wanted was for the cot to be attractive enough to match the Little Mister’s nursery colour scheme (which was simply clean with white and blue). It had to be something that would be good enough quality to last for the use of more than one child. I wanted it to have a bassinet level option (for when the baby is little and not as mobile), for the mattress to be able to drop down later when you need to trap a crawling, toddling maniac child who may be learning to climb, and for it to later convert to a toddler bed. It goes without saying that it had to meet national safety standards. As long as a cot was a reasonable price and had all these features, I was stoked. I’m still very happy with my decision. Seriously, just keep it simple.

Pram/stroller
This one baffled me from day one. I won’t lie. There are so many choices, so many features and so many opinions on the matter you feel like your head will spin off! Not to mention there are so many very very expensive products to stare at in utter disbelief. There are some babies out there just pimpin’ in their tricked out rides. Or whatever the kids are saying these days. Pretty sure I just said something really inappropriate there…moving right along…

My requirements? It had to have a comfy bassinet option for when my Little Mister was very small and spent most of his time sleeping. It had to be good at manouvering in tight spaces. It had to be light enough to lift in and out of the car several times a day. It had to be easy to assemble or fold down because no-one wants to be that person in the carpark taking half an hour just to get their baby out of the car and into the stroller, or out of the stroller and into the car! It had to be good quality so it would last for the use of more than one child, hopefully with the option of being able to even transport two children (a toddler and baby) at once if need be in the future.

Look, I’ll be honest. I also didn’t want it to be butt ugly. You have to wheel that thing about in public all the time, y’all.

Car seat
I wasn’t really too fussed. I didn’t need the top of the range, “only celebrities use it” kind of thing. I didn’t want the cheapest thing either. I wanted a nice, middle of the range product that looked comfortable and of course, safe. As we weren’t going to start with a capsule in our car (they are great for transporting sleeping babies to and from the car but they aren’t great for longevity’s sake – we figured we could hire one if the baby turned up and we wished we had one), we wanted a car seat that could range from birth to a few years old. We got one that went from newborn to 18kg (or roughly an average sized four year old). I figured that if there was a second child entering the equation at some point then we could purchase a car seat that takes a child to 7 years old (the legal age a child has to be in a seat until) and the younger bub could have the smaller one. I have been really happy with the seat we’ve chosen. It’s grown with the Little Mister (or he’s grown with it I should say) very nicely.

Basically, everyone I talked to in the baby product shops was really helpful. There was one lady with a really pretentious name that I cannot remember right now, who bugged the hell out of me at one of my favourite stores, but on the whole these staff members are really used to talking to parents-to-be who have NO IDEA WHAT THEY’RE DOING or WHAT THEY’RE IN FOR! That’s what their business is about, so if they treat you like an idiot…quite plainly, they deserve to lose your business and anyone else’s. You’ve never done this before and should be treated as such (without someone being a condescending a-hole of course). Also, you’re pregnant (or your partner is) and they should know better than to mess with you (or them) haha.

Also, don’t freak out if something doesn’t go too smoothly. I had to wait until I was 8 months pregnant (and very very hugely so) to get my pram delivered to a shop far far away because they’d run out of stock or some crap (my savings did actually make it worth it luckily), and my cot arrived with some damage that I felt could compromise its safety meaning I had to return it and get it replaced. If you let these things wash over you and deal with them calmly (while being sure to assert yourself and get what you deserve), I promise it can actually be fun! :)

Have any other advice to share? If you’re a parent, how did your first shopping ventures go?

I thought about including what my product choices were, but I decided it’s not so important to get a certain brand or model. It’s about making sure the product meets your specific budget and has the features you think are important. Also, I didn’t want to seem like I was paid to do this post (I wish haha). If you really do wish to know, please don’t be afraid to email me. Also, while I’m explaining myself, I’d also like to say that I am only describing my personal experience whenever I do one of these “advice” type posts. I am not saying that what was helpful for me will be helpful for everyone – I’m big on the whole “each to their own” adage and will never claim to be an expert on any topic! Just another first time mum figuring stuff out :)

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My truth about the first few weeks of parenthood.

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So the other night I was watching one of my all-time favourite television shows (Offspring – OMG I love it), when a character came into the hospital not long after giving birth and had a small breakdown because she thought she was failing as a mother. One reason was because her birth did not go to plan (she didn’t want any drugs but succumbed as it got very difficult and painful) and the second was because some people had told her that those first few weeks of motherhood are the “babymoon” and are supposed to be so perfect and blissful, but she didn’t feel her experience was matching up. Even though that was just a small part of the episode, it stuck with me. How many times do “all the people” tell you something is supposed to feel/be a certain way, only it isn’t and you start to think you’re the only one, questioning yourself? Asking if you’ve done something different or wrong?

As my Little Mister starts to close in on 7 months of age, I find myself thinking back to his early days (say the first 6 weeks). I remember him sleeping for 18 hours a day, just feeding and needing cuddles. Even now I look back at that time with rose-coloured glasses. I think, “Wow – all that time he was asleep! I could have gotten so much housework done! I had so much free time to watch TV, shower myself, have a nap, blog, go to the toilet. Why didn’t I appreciate that fully? Blah blah blah.”

Then I wake myself up with a firm (metaphorical) slap to the face (with a big, metaphorical cold fish). Wait a second, I tell myself, it wasn’t that easy at the time! I think back and remember not ever believing that those beautiful moments of sleep would last, rushing through my showers, my meals and anything else I had to do. I remember trying to heal from my C-section, having to move gingerly and be careful what I lifted or how I positioned myself when I sat down. My husband had to help with everything and I found that disempowering. It wasn’t his fault by any means – he was doing a great job. I just felt at odds with the role I was supposed to be relishing as a new full time mummy. I had to learn how to do heaps of things from my husband, when I’d always pictured myself figuring it out first. I remember finding everything so new and daunting. Everything from figuring out how much formula to feed the Little Mister (we had to measure top ups on top of breast milk as my supply was bad – we’d been separated in the first few days and I was stressed and on anti-biotics). Wondering if we were letting him sleep too long at a time or not (he is naturally a great sleeper but all of the damn books and some people acted like he was going to die or waste away if we didn’t wake him up every three hours in the night to feed). Trying to negotiate trips out of the house with him. How did I know if I’d packed too much or not enough? I learnt the hard way a couple of times. Could I make sure that everything revolved around feed times/nap times? Worrying about his sensitive, immature stomach when he was mildly colicky at bedtime. Creeping into bed at night, worried about waking him. Listening out ALL night to hear him breathing. Not knowing whether it was right to do this, or right to do that. Feeling lost when he would cry because it takes a little while to figure out a new language – baby language. It was a while before I figured out what a hungry cry, anxious cry, pained cry were like (sometimes they can be remarkably similar). When his sleep started to decrease a bit, I took a while to figure out how long babies are usually happy to be awake for before they’ll show tired signs and need a nap. Once I mastered that (and a host of other baby quirks), I started to settle into my role as mummy.

Yes, the first few weeks are AMAZING. You want to watch your beautiful baby sleep all the time. You realise in the middle of the night that you still love them (even though you once wondered if it was possible to love ANYONE at 4am – sober). You feel all the love of your family and friends as they gather round, sending gifts, sharing cuddles and giving compliments. If your partner has parental leave or has taken leave for those first few weeks, it can be a godsend as you rest and you’re not expected to get anything done but heal your own body and nurture your baby.

Sleep deprivation can be a nightmare. I’m not gonna lie. And for some babies (who perhaps start off as awesome sleepers), it actually gets worse when they’re older as teething, separation anxiety and the power of movement arrive. Told you I’m not going to lie. However, if you call on your support networks: people who can babysit a couple of hours in the day between feeds so you can sleep, your partner, someone who might even help you cook or clean so there’s less to worry about, you’ll start to adjust. Just don’t feel like you should be a super human. It’s taken me the good part of 6 months to realise that I don’t have to be an all entertaining, all new, all fresh human experience for the Little Mister ALL the time. We can have quiet days in and we can get out and about a bit too – he’s going to be fine if some days I’m not feeling well or need to rest. Babies are working hard all day and all night as they develop, so the occasional “boring” day in probably isn’t as boring for them as we think! Gotta stay human/sane and look after mum so she can look after bub. Overworked zombies are not the best caregivers, apparently :)

It’s scary and it’s hard in those early weeks. In the more challenging times I would just pray for the Little Mister to learn how to smile. I would find myself just thinking wistfully, when he can smile perhaps I will feel better about it all. Perhaps the smiles will make each day a little easier. It was difficult when the only way he knew how to communicate was by crying or behaving grumpily. I was just hanging out for that smile. For those new ways to communicate.

They do come. And it is as lovely as they tell you it will be. Although new challenges pop up all the time, you start to know your baby well. You become really in tune with their quirks and their ways of communicating. You learn what time of day doesn’t go well with them. You learn the places/sounds/activities they like and don’t like. You learn the best times to take them out and when it’s time for them to stay in and spend time snuggling or catching up on rest in a comfy, familiar place.You find your own rhythm. Hopefully you get to know other mothers with similarly aged children – my hospital set up a mother’s group and we still meet and we share SO MANY IDEAS/CONCERNS/LEARNINGS/ADVICE on our Facebook page it’s not funny! I thought that stuff wouldn’t suit me (worried I’d be bunched with people I have nothing in common with other than motherhood, or that it could get bitchy or pressured), but it’s been fantastic. I know that if we get out of the house to meet, we all understand the logistics of just leaving the house and negotiating feeds and naps. I also know that we are all learning together and it’s great to know you’re not alone and share resources.

So if an expectant mum asked me what it’s like, I would tell her all of the above. It’s the most special time for sure, but it isn’t all rainbows and unicorns. It’s hard work, sleeplessness and constant confusion/overthinking/worrying (and kind of will be for a long time). However, if you surrender yourself to it all and embrace it, you will know that your HUGE love will conquer all in the end. I always tell myself, I grew up and don’t have to sleep with my arms swaddled. I can go to sleep all by myself at night without a dummy or someone cuddling me. I can walk around properly and talk and feed myself (and boy do I feed myself – oops). My Little Mister will grow up fine if I just relax a bit and do my best. The challenging times aren’t FOREVER :)

Don’t listen to those weirdos who have forgotten the hard parts when they look back on those early days of parenthood. They’ll either tell you it’s all hell on Earth or that it’s all perfect and easy. There is a fantastic happy medium if you let yourself find it.

Hindsight is always 20/20 and I refuse to let myself glorify those times when the present day gets tough. They were real, they were amazing and they were terrifyingly, terrifically overwhelming. I wouldn’t change a thing.

x

Was your reality different? Please share x