I got sidetracked

So this blog has being ignored for some time and I think it's time to bring it out of its dormant state. I've got a lot of time on my hands right now and what better use of time is there than to waste it on the Internet!! I've often got so much to say in response to other blog posts but feel a little on the silly side to leave a comment in my name (that links to a dying blog). 

So, what brings me to have this time? I'm in bed for the most part of each day with hyperemesis. I'm eleven weeks pregnant and couldn't be happier about it. Obviously being sick isn't ideal but I'll take it. Previous blog entries have discussed the woes of (secondary) infertility, and therefore I can hardly complain. Nor would I want to.

So, back in the blog world I am! For anyone else with too much time on their hands, perhaps you'll join me for the ride. 

Eton mess discovery

I'm told (or did I read?) that Eton mess is a traditional English dessert, served at Eton College's annual cricket match against Winchester College. How very regal does that sound? 

I'm pretty sure I first heard of it when reading a trashy mag that just happened to talk of William's favourite foods. Should you need to ask which William I talk of, we are clearly not living on the same planet this week.

In honour of THE wedding, which just happened to be a very big deal in our family, I decided to make this lovely dessert (and lovely it was). I'd not made it before but I tell you... I will be again. Why? Because it was possibly the easiest thing I've ever made and up there with the most popular when I consider that more of it was consumed than even cupcakes. If you want something quick and yet effective, this is it.

All you need - what you see above. What you do:

Finally, my thoughts of the wedding (brief): 

Loved it! The dress was perfect - very Grace Kelly and just beautiful. Pippa of course was a real standout. I wouldn't have had her in white though - too wedding dress like. She looked like a glamorous and gorgeous bride herself, though far less royal of course. 

The only negative was that Lucie was too sick to watch it. We'd being planning a party to watch it with my sister and cousin for weeks and she missed the whole thing :( (she's better now, but it was a rough few days..gastro.. yucky).

Rules of the playground

If you're friends with me on Facebook, you'd know that today I posted that a scary looking mum in head to toe adidas and dripping in diamonds tried to pick a fight with me at the park. And what was it over? Nothing really, if you ask me. 

Ten minutes prior there had been maybe eight or nine kids all trying to get on the three seat merry-go-round swing thingy. Given the chaos, one kid ended up falling and yet the swing kept going. Each time one of those swings passed over her tiny little body, the legs of the child swinging would kick her. 

As one of only two parents actually watching these kids, I naturally stopped it and let her free. The other parent (a dad), grabbed the other side. Tears followed but I'm pretty sure the little girl was ok, just really shaken up. Bossy it might be, I then told the kids that they'd have to be careful and stand back while it was swinging. One of these little girls didn't want to. She proceeded to run in, out and around it (yep, asking for trouble). Not my place to do much and all I could do was ask her to be careful, which I did. Nicely, I promise. 

She must have run off to tell on me (would love to know what on earth she said), because up comes her mother looking furious. I think she'd have turned it into a physically fight if I'd let her... honestly, she wasn't someone I'd want to cross paths with and I hope I never do again. I briefly told this woman the story but really, what's the point. If she had any interest in her daughter's behaviour, she would be watching her. No, I kept that last thought to myself because I like being alive.

Personally, I'm a bit over the sit-on-the-park-bench-and-text mums. The park might be free but it doesn't come with childcare. Call it whatever you want, but if there are kids in dangerous situations and any adult it present, I think you've got a duty of care. I hate being in the position to discipline children who are not my own but it almost feels an unwritten rule that if there are no parents to be seen in a public place, it's free for all. Some mums need to go back to the maternity hospital and ask for a new handbook. 

I'm no supermum (to further explain this let me tell you that my four-year-old daughter is still awake at 9:10pm. I can hear her now, in bed but wide awake. Great. I wish I was enjoying a quiet night with a glass of wine, but no).. anyway, my point.. it does not take supermum to keep them safe. Just common sense! Wish that mum today had a little more.    

Easter

A day late in saying so, but Happy Easter.
 
Ours was a quiet affair this year because I had to work Good Friday and Easter Sunday and Jeremy is working today (Easter Monday) and tomorrow too. Public holiday rates, you might be thinking.. yes and no. Yes for Good Friday but would you believe that Easter Sunday is not considered a public holiday. I don't really get it?!?! 

About Easter ... I do firmly believe that Jesus did rise again and I very much appreciate the meaning of Easter. But if I'm truly honest, I do not 100% believe that he literally died on the cross. I know I should, and I want to (not because of the actual story, but because I want to have faith in what seems to be very much the story for any Christian). But I don't know what to think. 

It might be because I don't want to accept that level of suffering. I remember being taught as a child and deciding it was simply too horrible a notion that anyone be nailed to anything (I'm pretty sure I cried). I do believe in God, in Jesus and would call myself a Catholic though yet remain unsure. I am a huge contradiction, right? 

On a lighter note, it's been COD around here (chocolate overdose that would be). We've been up to our ears in it and it shows. A pretty crabby four a half year old isn't fun and I'm ready to load some serious vegetables into her come tomorrow. I'm kind of embarrassed about how much she ate on my watch... so I won't say!

I guess it wasn't all my fault though. I did find her under the kitchen table this morning after being very firm about not eating anymore eggs. As these photos show, I'm clearly a great mum with strong direction and authority. Needless to say, the chocolate basket is now up high and out of her reach (but unfortunately in mine).

Today I am feeling totally discouraged by the value placed in nursing care. 

It all started when I set out to find someone to get our garden looking ok again. It's not landscape work I need, just some weeding and general tidying up. I'm talking a few hours manual labour. It's not that we can't do it ourselves, we're just so busy with work/kinder/study/life in general and to be honest, it's not really our thing. We're not good with gardens and don't have the greenest of thumbs.. right Jeremy?.. if you're reading this! 

But, it looking nice (enough) is important to me. So much so that I'm very much willing to pay to get it done. I've had a couple of quotes and to my surprise, none are less than $35 an hour with the average being quite a bit higher (cash in hand). Call me crazy, but I was hoping to pay about $20 an hour. Why, because this is around what I earn and my logic was that I'd go off to work to do what I know how to do well and I'd pay the same amount for someone to do for me what they do well.

If I were seeking a highly experienced, trained, super-dooper garden specialist then maybe, just maybe, I'd get it. But I'm not, and therefore I don't. If I'm honest, it upsets me to think that it's cheaper for me to NOT work a day and attempt the garden myself than to pay somebody else. I don't even want it to be cheaper. Just on par would be nice.

Here's why I don't get it - how can it be so that a nurse earns less than a gardener? And it's not just gardens. I started asking around and it's the norm to pay this amount for anything house related.
Why is being a nurse be so undervalued? Our government and private sector see it appropriate to pay a nurse so poorly that an oak tree is more expensive to care for than their children, or their parents, or any loved one. I don't even have an oak tree, but I'm sure you get my point. 

I AM NOT saying that a gardener, or a painter, or a builder, or anyone who undertakes manual work of any kind of less qualified or deserving than a nurse. I promise you that. These jobs are also important and the people who do them work incredibly hard. But is being a nurse not worth at least an equal amount? My point is not that a gardener be paid less, simply that a nurse be paid as much.

I am someone who feels such passion for nursing. I can't even explain in words how much I love being a nurse. As dorky as it sounds, I feel as if I had a calling. It's as if God (or maybe Florence, standing over me with an oil lamp) spoke to me as a small girl and called me to the sisterhood (and yes, I can say sisterhood even though there are indeed male nurses.. the term Sister applies to both!). 

I take this job so seriously and I can't ever imagine loving another profession quite as much. BUT... people in power, those who control our Government, when are you going to stop taking such risks? You lose those of us that love what we do on a daily basis. It's been happening for years and the result is a whole lot of people working in a hospital doing a job they don't love - and it shows. The best nurses leave (a lot).

I go to work, with pride I might add, to wipe the bottoms of people like your mother who might have had a terrible reaction to chemo that will save their lives, I hold their hands and answer their questions about what will happen if and when they die (unspoken but clear to us both that it's a when and not an if), I tuck your children into bed and rub their backs when they are crying in pain, I hold the hands of your husbands as I reassure them that it's totally normal, and totally ok, to wet the bed (and then I clean it all up). These are not complaints, simply observations. I wouldn't change what I do for the world. Nursing the people other people love, is a great honour.

BUT, I suppose I'd like to be as valued as someone who weeds my garden. Money talks. I wish nurses would get paid a little more. That's all. 

Talent

I'm a sucker for new unexpected talent on TV talent shows. You know the ones, where the audience expect a crappy voice to match the crappy outfit and unkempt look and out comes an AMAZING, jaw dropping kind of voice? Along the lines of Susan Boyle or Paul Potts (who I would have married if I didn't love Jeremy so much... he was just sooo nice).

Here is the newest addition, Michael Collings. No, I don't want to marry this one. But I would buy his CD. I love this and hope you do too. Jeremy says that it's all staged, that they would have found Michael and made him look super scruffy first so that he'd make for good TV. I don't agree! I'm staying in my bubble of believing what I see on reality TV, which in this instance was a very special moment :)

 

  

And if you want some more...

Friends of Mine

So I've become one of those people that fell off the blogosphere. But I'm back. And I'm staying here. 

It's been a crazy couple of weeks and things were just too hard to keep up with. I didn't even get to any of my 87 loads of laundry, let alone a blog entry. I'm working three days a week (how oh how do you full-time working mums do it?) and between that, kinder runs and then school holidays and making the family calendar work with not one but two nurses (AKA shift workers) in the family, life is chaotic. We're finding our way though and I feel myself finding a new normal. One where the house stays a little messier than usual and dinner is whatever there is time to make.

You know what though, I miss blogging. It's only been two weeks (almost) and I have missed having a creative outlet in which to unwind. Writing, to me, is a nice thing to do. I don't have time to edit and think about what or how I write so you get it as it flows from my mind but that works for me. It seemed to work for others too as to my surprise people were reading. If you are doing that again now, thank you for sticking by me. Now that I know I miss it, I'm going to keep this regular from now on.

Do I have much to write about today? Well, there are a few things but it's 11:51pm and time is of the essence. Jeremy is on day four of six in a row and I'm pretty sure he'd be a up for a catch up chat when I get of the mac. We're like passing ships these days and of course I miss him :( I almost cried for him last night knowing he had to get up at 6am for an early start (after not getting home from the hospital until 11pm last night). Poor thing :( 

So, with little time, I'll leave you with a few pics taken when I went out for a girls' brunch yesterday morning. We tried a new cafe called Friends of Mine in Richmond. It was a non-baby-shower for a lovely friend who didn't want a true shower. So, no gifts, no games, no (ok, not much) baby talk and just some close girlfriends chatting over a yummy breakfast.

This place was so good that I have to spread the word. Truly worth the wait to get in! Thankfully I'd heard this would be the case and arrived half an hour before our party of nine so that I could reserve a table (and that's not nearly as selfless as it sounds - Mums, does half an hour ALONE with the newspaper sound like anything difficult?!?!). So, while I wish they did take bookings (kind of annoying but I get it), the time was well used and appreciated.

No time for a full review so I'll just say this. They get it.. their formula (whatever that might be) works. Amazing food, pleasant & nice but yet not over the top service (just as I like it), unbelievable presentation, little touches that just add to the whole experience, reasonable prices. To me, it had a real feeling of being that little bit special but still so real. A lot of cafes I go to try for that but it doesn't work (truthfully, they try too hard). Go for yourself and you'll know what I mean! 

Doesn't my bircher muesli look delicious? It sure was. 

We judge, yes, but keep opinions to yourself

If you're a 'mummy blogger' reader, or probably even any mainstream media reader at all, you'd have read about the backlash surrounding the (pretty insane) comments of Pru Goward. If not, you read all about it here. I know I'm a little late jumping on the bandwagon and it'll be old news soon enough, but while it's still being talked about I just wanted to add my two cents. 

Like 100% of the responses I've heard, I support Jackie (Golly, if she's going down then so are the rest of us). Actually, make that 99.9% as I did read one ridiculous comment on a parenting board from a mum who agreed with Pru's comments. At the end of the day I feel like this whole thing is more a reflection on the kind of person Pru Goward is than the mother in Jackie O.

If you ask me, this is a lesson in when not to speak up and not about what to think or not to think. We can't tell Pru not have thoughts but we can ask her to keep them private. Because, let's be honest, we all judge (no matter how perfect a mother you claim to be!). Sadly, when it comes to mothering, I truly think the worst culprits of judging a mum, are other mums. Just putting it out there. It's the thing I most loathe about motherhood. I hate being (openly) judged as much as the next mummy but it seems to come with the territory. Wouldn't it be nice if those that pass on their opinions could learn to keep their mouths shut?

So long as the judgment is not passed on and kept private, it's not about being a mean or 'bad' person and it's ok. It's about opinions and we all have them. That's the beauty of having your own mind. You can think as you please. Even if you try, as I do, to think kindly about others (esp mums) there are PLENTY of times that you're going to think, "gee that's not how I'd do it" etc, etc. In other words, it's normal. It's what you do with these thoughts that defines you as a person. It's also about realising, accepting and embracing the notion that different does not mean better or worse. Each to their own, it's a good motto to remember!

What matters is NOT saying anything. NOT responding and NOT passing verbal, written (or otherwise) judgment. Just keep it to yourself and all will be well. Just as Pru should have done. We can't blame her for having an opinion, it's human nature and agree or disagree (disagree, for the record), she is entitled. Her mistake was speaking up and really, little kindness wouldn't have hurt.
 

Thoughts about playdates

While it's on my mind I thought I'd share some wisdom. I don't have much in the way of child rearing advice but feel I've figured out the playdate thing, at least where my child is concerned. I had a good chat to a close friend about this not so long ago and it's all just seeming so much clearer now. She is my go-to for anything parenting related... everyone needs someone like that in their life.

To cut a long story short, I've decided that a four year old just doesn't have the social graces to 'host' a playdate as many adults would expect. Certainly not as I expected and I've come to learn this the hard way. If I'm stating the obvious then read no further. 

We've had many, many playdates over the last couple of years and so often I've found myself being angry with Lucie. Either she's not listened, not co-operated, not made her guest feel welcome enough, not shared, not compromised, not, not, not, not. You get it. Surely you're reading this, as I am now, asking if I've got rocks in my head. To be honest, I think it comes down to how much I want these playdates to work. Thankfully though, I've had a total epiphany in relation to play dates recently and it comes down to one simple sentence: she's only four.

Don't get me wrong, I am not a mum that expects my small child to be all adult like and I know as well as the next (or even better than the average next) that kids will be kids. But, I'm human and I need reminding. When you think about it, really think about it, a play date is quite an adult notion. I'm talking specifically about the kind of playdate that involves inviting another over to play sans any significant adult, not the one that is about the mum relationship that is based on a friendship without your kids - when you really know each other and bring your offspring along to play while you chat/lunch/coffee, etc (because that kind of play is totally, totally ok in my book). 

I refer to a playdate as quite adult because when you think about it, hosting another person in your space isn't something that comes easily or naturally to children of Lucie's age, and nor should it. We as parents need to expect that they might not share or be graceful or kind the whole time and that's ok. Can you tell that they person I am most sharing this with, is myself?! I guess I just wanted to put my thoughts into words. Call it a reminder :)

So what is the solution and am I making any sense here? In terms of a solution I've decided, through trial and error, that the average four year old can last about an hour and a half (give or take that last half hour) before the whining, the fighting, the tiredness and the overall boredom sets in. For me, this is when it gets tough to decipher bad from age-appropriate behaviour. As well as sticking to this kind of time, I think it's also about keeping a good eye on what's going on. Being far enough away to let them feel they are having a good independent play but close enough to step in if and when a third party adult could come in handy (and let's face it, that's going to be a matter of when, not if!).

Am I the only one? Sometimes it used to feels as if I had the only child on the planet who couldn't handle a playdate. She wanted them so desperately and then failed miserably when they did eventuate. Or did she? NOOOOOOO!!! I DID. What I had to absorb, accept and remember is that it's not a failure if there are tears from either party, if the child who visits does not have the best time they've ever, ever had or if toys/games/dolls/food or otherwise are not shared miraculously the whole time. That's what being four is all about.

The woes of fertility

...or lack of. Is there is a word for can-get-pregnant-but-need-to-stay-pregnant? I can't claim myself infertile and not sure I can even classify myself secondary infertile either. I'm in no word land. 

I'm kind of in that middle ground given that I don't really know where I am. I suppose I'd be pretty annoying not to give the facts here because let's face it, blogland is about being honest and open. If not, what's the point? Why not keep a paper bound journal just for you? My cousin Clare tells me that the more detail the better, even when boring. So, loyal readers, we're now talking nearly 17 months. Though do I count the whole time given that I had losses in that time? Not sure. I'm going with yes because from the start of this journey to now, with no baby in sight, that's how long it's been.

If you want even more detail, and Clare this is for you, I'm sitting on a 5-6% chance of natural conception. Want to know your stats? You can pay around $200 for go here for a basic analysis and get it for nothing (though despite the ease and accuracy of the predictor, I just love my specialist and the money was well worth it). When I tell people the 6% bit they seem horrified. Really though, on any given month a healthy, average female only has about a 20% chance anyway (unless you are 25). Let's just say it could go either way. We may well end up having to beg, borrow or steal for IVF, or may not. It's anyone's guess. Some would say it's in God's hands and I'd be inclined to agree actually.
 
I know, I know, 17 months is not out of control crazy. But it's pretty long all the same. It feels long when those who stared trying after you are now nursing babies. It feels long when there are growing pregnant bellies everywhere you look. It feels long when you're filling in primary school applications for your first child. It feels the most long when you are waiting to get the go ahead to keep actively trying after having a chemo drug to end the life of the baby you were meant to have after they got stuck in the wrong place! You get it- it feels long, and it's all relevant anyway, right? I guess what matters here, is that to me that's how it can feel sometimes (when dwelling that is and as I'll go on to explain that is not common).

Those trying for a baby for years would think I'm being ridiculous whereas those who easily had kids when they wanted them would think otherwise and probably feel quite sorry for me (I do - sometimes but mostly not). That little bracket bit, for which I am a big user without meaning to be, might seem a contradiction. Yes, you are reading about the woes of NOT being pregnant and it does indeed sound negative but to be fair, I'm typing and as I do so focusing on the topic at hand. For the most part, for nearly my whole day, I don't in fact dwell on it much at all. It's no different to if I were typing about a cookie recipe. In that moment, at that time, I'd sound obsessed with baking (that may well be a little true I guess so a bad example).
 
That's all for today. Thanks for reading :) 

Important questions at the sausage shop

We were at Vic market on Sunday and about thirty seconds after I took this photo Lucie suddenly asked Caroline (my sister) "if two girls get married and have a baby, who gets to be the Mummy and who gets to be the Daddy?". Caroline looks at me and tells me this is my one to answer. 

This of course has nothing to do with Caroline not knowing what to say. I know with certainty what she'd say, but unfortunately this kind of question comes down to what the actual parent present chooses to tell their kid. I say unfortunately because I find it a bit sad that some parents choose to tell their kids that that kind of scenario isn't ok. Personally, I wish it didn't come down to a matter of opinion.

My response: "They both get to be the Mummy. The baby would have two mummies, and that's ok". Lucie then nods before moving onto something totally unrelated - I think it was the type of treat she was hoping for at the end of the shopping trip.

For the record, I DO appreciate, and respect, that some parents would indeed find my response the unfortunate one. Each to their own. It's not up to me to educate or teach any children other than my own and I would never try to do this. Needless to say, it's something I often have to bite my tongue over. I also realise that my opinions contradict my Christianity, but that's a whole other post.

Imagine how hard it would be to challenge something you've believed your whole life. Kids do (pretty much always) believe what their parents tell them and if I'd chosen to tell Lucie that a child having two mummies wasn't acceptable, that's no doubt what she'd grow up thinking (dare I say it again... unfortunate, to me anyway). I am thankful that my parents are very open-minded and I'd this to be the same for Lucie.

My point is that it is just such a HUGE responsibility having this influence over your children. Until she gets older herself, Jeremy & I have the power and that's a little (actually, a lot) scary. Needless to say, she'll make up her own mind one day about pretty much everything and I'll be watching, listening, and HOPING, with much interest. 

Oh crap, I don't have an RSS feed

Ten minutes ago I didn't even know what on earth this was (this is what it is for anyone else not up with it). Truth be told, still don't really. But I'm learning. I've been on google and I'm getting it all worked out. 

Seems I need one! A favourite blogger of mine Jenny (and not just because she has a fabulous name or because her daughter Lucy does too!!!)wrote about how they are pretty much essential. As she's not the first to say so, I thought I'd better find out more. 

See, here's the thing. This is a little blog about not very much as yet. But I love writing it and I want to keep doing it so I figure I better get with the program. This is because, amazingly/strangely/incredibly/not-sure-exactly-how, people are actually reading my blog. People I don't even know. I knew my Mum did and maybe Jeremy sometimes but then I figured out this stats thing and got a shock. So, turns out it's not just for Lucie to read in the year 2031. 

In any case, stay tuned for this blog to have the essential elements, like RSS. Coming soon. 

My new t-shirt

This would sure come in handy. 

I wouldn't always wear it, but mostly would (when I didn't mind having a chat) so I guess I'd have to have a few in my wardrobe. 

I thought about this last week after a patient asked me about my face. The first one for a long, long time. I didn't mind, AT ALL. He was lovely. He started his question with "I'm going to ask you what everyone else is probably too scared to", so I knew what was coming and I appreciated his honesty. We had a good chat about it and it was no biggy.

It's was better than the time the checkout chick pretty much yelled "oh my God, what happened to you?" when I reached the front of what was still a long line behind me. For the record, I responded with "oh my God, what happened to your manners".

It's not that I don't want to tell patients. I simply don't bring it up because I'm there as their nurse and it's about them. It's not about me.

As for friends/neighbours/kinder mums/sales assistants/the postman/train drivers/passers by, etc) I don't have a problem with it. I'm sure they are incredibly curious. I understand this. I am too :) It's human nature. Understanding it makes it easier. 

Having an illness that you can see comes with it's disadvantages. You can't hide it and there is no pretending it's not there. A diabetic does not need to inject their insulin out in the open for example, but for those with any kind of deformity, it's like free for all public viewing. This is a fact, that's all there is to it. I had two choices - deal with it or not, and I think I made the right decision.

Anyone who has ever been pregnant or perhaps broken a leg will understand. "How did you break it" would have gotten old, kind of like the constant "when are you due?/boy or girl?/first child?" etc, etc, etc and then some.

The point of me talking about this? To share my view that getting over feeling hurt or worried, embarrassed or ashamed, is pretty much essential if you want to get through life as a happy person. My advice to anyone facing these challenges is to remember, always, that people are simply curious. 99% of the time, the average human is simply nosy. I can relate to this! 

There are two kinds of people who will ask about a face like mine. 1). Curious and concerned or 2). Curious and rude. If you're dealing with the former, just tell yourself that it's nice they care. If the latter, don't lose any sleep over it. Do you really care about what a person who isn't that nice thinks about you? Chances are they are living a pretty sad life anyway because let's face it, rude people don't generally have a lot of love in their life. 

parents who can't spell

For as long as I can remember I've LOVED the name Lucy. Of course, I still do. I knew for a long time that I wanted this name for my daughter (if ever blessed with one). Jeremy liked it too, until he found it as 'Lucie' when we honeymooned in Paris (that sounds quite glamorous when I put it like that!) and then he too LOVED it. By the way, we were not pregnant in Paris, I was just talking A LOT about the possibility :)

Lucy/Lucie, it's still the same name. Kind of like Jennifer and Jennipher. Yep, I met another Jen last week who spells it just that way. 

You set your poor child up for a lifetime of name misery when you do what we did, that I now realise. One thing's for sure though - we'll take it any way it comes. You can't use an 'ie' and then get upset when cards or the like read 'Dear Lucy'. Such is life. 

Poor Lucie though. Some kid teased her about not having a y and she's taken it to heart. We didn't even know about it until her kinder artwork started coming home with a new name. She's announced it's to stay this way... 

I'm guessing she'd be teased as a Luciy even more.

Working mum

I have started full time work. It's been FIVE long years since this was last the case. Talk about tired, and it's only day two. I'm about to get into bed and watch an episode of Grey's (current equal favourite. Draw with Parenthood). 

So, what do I think about being a working mum? H-A-R-D. I take my hat off to the women who do it week after week while I wonder how on earth they make it work. My life already feels like a balancing act and my calendar is so full of logistical details that I get a headache just looking at it. 

In a couple of short weeks I'll be down to three days a week and life will become less chaotic!

As far as my job goes though - I love it. Being a nurse is truly the best job in the world. 

The people you meet

I have always loved hearing about interesting jobs that people do. There are some amazing careers out there, many unheard of. For this reason I always read the employment section of The Age on the weekend. What's even better is when I meet someone with a job that sounds interesting, just as I did a few days ago.

On the shuttle bus en route to Sydney airport we sat next to two delightful men from the U.S.A. They were returning from 40 days on board the Queen Mary 2. This one:

  
There would obviously be many a job to fill in keeping this grand ship sailing the seas. So many in fact that there is one in particular I'd never even heard of, until Bob & Jack told me about their role aboard this amazing ship - to be dance partners for the single ladies on board (most ladies are "mature"). That's the length that the company behind the Queen Mary 2 go to. Should you be a single lady, rest assured you'll never have to dance alone. That's just the kind of service I think you deserve when you're spending the odd $25k to have a good time. 

We had a great chat about what it's like to cruise around the world, how it all works and why they do it. For any other nosey parkers out there (like me, that is), here's the deal... 

1). They love it! Though they miss their families at home, they get to see the world and be a part of something very special. 

2). Bob, Jack and the other dance partners are a part of the social life of the cruise. They dine with guests, attend functions and become involved and a part of the ship scene. That way when it comes to dinner dances and balls, the ladies who need a dance partner won't feel they are dancing with a stranger. 

3). In a nutshell, the do it because they love to dance. Both men are passionate ballroom dancers and dancing for 40 odd days isn't a chore. 

Finally, the biggest and most important question of all: Are single dance partners allowed to hook up with single ladies? A BIG NO. If so, they get left at the next port. That said, it's totally ok to contact each other post cruise. 

What an amazing job to have, don't you think?! 

flower girl

We've just returned from a five day holiday to Sydney. What a week we've had attending the most amazing wedding on the harbour. It was spectacular. For Lucie is was probably the highlight of her life. Being a flower girl for this said wedding was an incredibly special experience for our girl.

As a seven year old I experienced the same joy. My aunt & uncle were to be married and asked me to be in their wedding. The fact that I still remember this with such excitement is testament to how lucky Lucie really is. It's the dream of every little girl right? At least it was so for me. 

The only problem is that my Aunty Marg didn't have a train when she got married and I'd had visions of carrying it for her, just as Princess Diana's attendants did in '81. Thankfully for Lucie, this bride did have a train (quite an amazing one actually) and there was plenty of train fluffing, fixing, lifting and straightening to be done.

Photos to follow...

 

This week Patty taught Lucie and I to make Chinese dumplings. Yum!!! 

After moving in with my Mum recently, Patty is the newest member of our family. She is from Taiwan but she's lived in Australia for a while now and as she completes her first year as a nurse she's going to be making the most of Mum's spare room. No complaints from me, it's great having her around (especially when dumplings are involved!). 

This is just one of the many things I love about my Mum - she's always someone to take care of others in need, even when that need is a home. She even cooked a delicious roast for all of us (and three of Patty's friends!) tonight. No, Jeremy, Lucie and I don't live there too but we're not far away. 

Anyway, back to the cooking. Seriously, I had no idea dumplings were so easy. I am thrilled! We'll be making these again for sure. I'm a huge fan of any kind of Asian food but have little exposure when it comes to its authentic cooking techniques. 

First step - prepare the mix. Patty did this for us and made it look oh so easy. Follow the recipe below (just add and mix).  One tip - chop finely! If you have time it's worth doing it ahead of time. Preparing this the night before not only makes things super easy but will also allow the flavours to do their thing!

You can add pretty much anything you have in your fridge. We didn't this time, but I'm told carrot, celery or anything goes. 

Using some pre-made dumpling skins, you now simply have to construct the dumplings. It really is as easy as that. You can buy dumpling skins at any Asian grocery store.

Rather than explain the steps myself, I thought I'd let Lucie do it...

 

To cook the dumplings simply place in salted boiling water for about five minutes. You can also pan fry them or deep fry them of course. 

I realise that I've used the word 'simply' too many times. But really it's because they are truly that simple. More so, they are: 1) cheap to make, 2) quick and 3) healthy (we didn't fry after all). 

Yum. It was a fun lesson and something I am so happy to be able to do. Welcome to the family, Patty. Thanks for teaching us something new.

p.s - I loved hearing of experiences growing up in Taiwan. When Patty's family would go out to eat they would order 120 dumplings - 10 for her mum, 10 for her and 100 for her Dad!! I guess he was pretty hungry. 

(serve with coriander and dumpling dipping sauce)

B-O-R-I-N-G

I have just deleted 1200 photos from i-photo on the mac and I've hardly even made a start. 

I have a remaining 9620 photos to sort through and it needs to be done yesterday. You see, I can't watch anymore Parenthood until I clear some space on our hard drive. It's a HUGE job, let me tell you. That's why I'm still awake at 12:43am (ruining my first night of 'must get to bed before midnight week').

Jeremy has challenged me to the task after claiming that most of the photos were taken by yours truly. He can't tell which (if any) are of any interest and that is not a good sign! I don't blame him one bit and I know fully well (is it fully well, or full well?) that for every one photo he snaps, I've taken another hundred, or two. 

But, that WILL be changing from here on in. I'll tell you why... because for the 1200 pics now sitting in my trash, I have saved 29. I hate to admit it but they were B-O-R-I-N-G, with a very capital B. I have always loved the saying (that I myself claim to have made up), "you shouldn't spoil the moment to capture it". 1) Obviously I forgot this motto in the last year. 2) Clearly I plan to embrace it once again.

I am pretty sure I'm not alone. Why do we parents take photos of sooooo much? Of course I know why, we want to capture the lives of our super interesting, stimulating, amazing kids. Unfortunately in doing so I have even managed to bore even myself and let's face it, if I'm not enjoying the photos of Lucie's every move nobody else is going to. Though I am surely sounding like a horrible parent I assure you I am not talking about dancing concerts or first days of kindergarten, I'm referring to every day, sitting around, doing nothing kind of photos. Those kind of photos are great too, I know that. Perhaps just in moderation.

Jeremy, this will be music to your ears: I pledge to snap less of the mundane and more of the important. More so, I will delete the crappy pics right away. Love, Jen.


Forgive me for this most blah blog entry. Any interesting brain cells I still had have been drained right out of me tonight. I'd better get to bed. I've got an 8:30am four-year-old ballet call with some serious ballet hair that needs to be done before then (and I'm not even going to take my camera).

 

The Great Australian Dream

...is home ownership, of course.

                (photo from Fitzpatricks Real estate)

If you Google this term that's what comes up. But we all knew it already. Do we feel it though? I used to. There was a time when all I wanted was to own our home but things have changed. For the time being I've adjusted my way of thinking and am telling myself that the Great Australian Dream for this family is a fabulous rental.

So I guess I still do feel it's a dream of mine, just one that's on hold.

While we dabbled in home ownership, we only got as far as an apartment when back in '05 we quickly realised that the money we had was going to buy little more than a one bedroom (and tiny everything else) home. As anyone else who has house hunted will agree, you very quickly learn to compromise. 

In reality we owned the bathroom or perhaps just the laundry of our place and in those few years of mortgage payments we didn't get much further. The bank did pretty well though :) Things changed for us when two became three. We tried sharing an already tight bedroom with a tiny Lucie (and a huge cot!)and naturally it was soon time to move.

We rented it out for a while before making the decision to sell. The rest is a long and boring story that can be summarised in five words: priced out of the market. In Melbourne this is a common story and so I know we're not alone in accepting that the housing dream is sadly becoming totally unobtainable, for some, or is it most?

Oh well, it's not all bad. As a renter I've learned that home really is where the heart is. It sounds corny but it's true as I've loved living where we are now and I'll love our next house just as much. For me, home is wherever Jeremy and Lucie are that's 100% fine for now. Sure, I'd love to own again some day and perhaps we'll even be able to make this happen by the time Lucie is ready to move out of home :)  

So why am I thinking so much about this? Because a journalist interviewed me today about this very topic. She's coming with a camera man *gasp* to do a follow up interview tomorrow and if it goes any further I'll let you know where and when you can check it out! It would have to be a pretty slow news day though if they do anything with the footage of me and my opinions :)

When and how to bribe your brood

Today Lucie had a dose of antibiotics via injection. The orals weren't cutting it and it was time to up the ante, literally. She's had another UTI, or as she calls it "a sick front bottom". 

The dose was split between her right and left arm. The left arm cost me a lolly snake and the right arm a small fries from Mc Donald's.
When you consider the bonus of a lemonade icypole from the nurse, she really got a good deal. Or did she? I don't know, despite the look of horror some parents give you when you reward with food, I'm guessing she'd have chosen not to be jabbed twice. And let's face it, an intramuscular isn't the most pleasant.

Let me set the scene: crying, rather HYSTERICAL and strong four year old, grad nurse trying to give her first IM (she looked nervous), no extra man power to hold down sick and upset child. It broke my heart a little. I also fully realised that holding a child down is soooo much harder when you're the parent. Of course it didn't take too many brain cells to assume as much but the reality was even more confronting. God help me if we're ever dealing with more than this.   

My point? When is it ok to use food to reward and/or bribe? I'm not parenting expert but in my book of rules I say it's ok within reason. Especially ok when there is nothing else to get you through. There are times when you do what you have to do and that's ok. Do I believe in rewarding for behaviour? No, of course NOT. But do I do it sometimes, yes of course I do. I am human and I slip. There are times that I'd give her anything (like the time I bought her a barbie in exchange for a urine sample - to be fair she was really sick and I'd have paid good cash for that sample).

So long as your child isn't sick every day, I'm pretty sure the odd aid to get them through a medical situation won't hurt. What matters to me is that Lucie knows that things like lollies and Mc Donald's are huge treats. They are to celebrate or commiserate. It could be worse (... I once heard a story of someone who pureed KFC for baby food).

Oh well, it's done now anyway and I suppose I can use one of the many get out of jail cards that they give you when you give birth to a child. They have sure come in handy.

 

 

Every day is Valentine's Day!

Sorry, but I'm with Pope Paul VI who deleted Valentine's Day from the official calendar of saints in 1969. To me, as it probably was to him, it's a bit of a Hallmark day. A day when the U.S.A alone spends an estimated $14.7 billion to say 'I love you' (no I didn't make that up, I read it today here and given it's an old fact, we can assume it's now more!). 

I'd like to add that I'm not totally unfeeling and CAN see how sweet it is for some. BUT I do have to say that if today is the only day you're feeling loved in your relationship, I'd be a little (or a lot) worried. I love Jeremy's words, that every day should be Valentine's Day (or is that a good way of just getting out of buying flowers???).In all seriousness, I do want flowers.. just not today!
  
Today got me thinking though, where did this all come from? I kind of can't believe that I don't know and wondered if I'd just missed that day in school (every year?), but then again Jeremy didn't know either when I conferred. Maybe it's an Aussie thing, but I don't think we're really taught about it. Thus I've spent some time on Google tonight. I won't bore you with my findings because they'd make a thesis. Needless to say though, it didn't compel me to want to celebrate it next year.

So while I am glad that the world is taking the opportunity to say or show how they feel today, I'd kind of rather see an African country eat for the day. Don't get me wrong, I love LOVE. I love being in love, I love it when people love. Love is great and I love that I have it. BUT, love should be every day. Not just on this one day (and not tacky as it soooo can be today).

p.s I didn't always feel this way. In 1991 my cousin Biddy and I were so jealous of the girls who had boyfriends that we decided to order each other a delivery of flowers to school! I carried them so proudly home that day. We repeated this in 1992. Thankfully by 1993 we'd acquired some common sense, and self esteem!!!!!

Blue lily are coming

Guess what?! 

I am sooooo excited. 

We are booked in for a family photo session with this AMAZING couple!
It is eight weeks away and I am sooooo looking forward to it. Bluelily photography are on a world tour all the way from America and we got a spot.

Usually I am not one to even be in a photo, let alone look forward to it but this time it's different. 

You may wonder why I hate having my photo taken so much but then again, given the name of this blog it may actually be quite obvious :) There is something about asymmetry. It comes up even worse in photos. Trust me, I'm not just saying that. In fact, I take it as a HUGE compliment when people tell me that I look better in real life. There is nothing worse than someone telling you that you look nice in a photo when you actually don't, right? 

It's the same with a mirror. I look worse in those too, or so I'm told. When you think about it, it's really a funny thing. If I look worse in a photo and worse in the mirror then really I don't know exactly what I look like!

So what is going to be different this time? Well technically speaking I don't know yet. But I do know that I LOVED these pics and I'm inspired by the mum in the photos. While she's a little different, she looks great. Most importantly, she (Stephanie, who you can read about here) looks happy.

I can't wait to have a family photo on the wall! 
  

About not being pregnant

It's going to be a long one. If you're not in the mood for a (potentially boring) read, visit soon for a quick post!

__________

This is me, pregnant with my Lucie. I look like a dork taking my photo in the mirror! I remember that I was taking it to send to my parents who lived overseas. 

Lucie's pregnancy was a pretty amazing one and at the time this self snap was taken, I really couldn't believe I was actually pregnant, this pregnant. She was, on all accounts, a "miscarriage" at seven weeks when the doctors were able to tick every box - no heartbeat, no visible sack, bleeding, non-rising hCG levels and loss of pregnancy symptoms. Needless to say, after a week of mourning our loss she appeared as strong as ever on an ultrasound that was intended to determine the need for a D & C. She was, and still is (all these years later!), a VERY determined and strong little girl. It was a tough pregnancy but worth EVERY.SINGLE.SECOND.

I became quite ill when Lucie was a baby and after a lot of thought, consideration, consultation, deliberation and reflection (prayer on my part), we decided that Lucie would be our only baby. It was a huge loss to both of us and something that, though accepted, was deeply sad. There were so many times that I felt guilty for feeling so upset. Here I was with a gorgeous, healthy living child and I was mourning the loss of one I never knew. In any case, knowing it wasn't an option made it easier. I went about my life thinking it would never be and over time I was at peace with that.

We were upfront about it from the beginning and everyone knew. The last thing I needed was friends looking hopeful when I said no to wine. In doing that we avoided the inevitable questions about #2, at least from those we knew. There was no shortage of curiosity from total strangers however, be it women in the line at the supermarket, postmen, waitresses, you name it. Seriously :) Everyone has an opinion, and don't I know it.

Fast forward a few years and things changed. Namely the realisation after seeing a neurologist, that "you can't break what's already broken" (those are my words, not those of the doctor... it's ok!). Basically, the short version of this is that I was already managing my illness well and coping. Another baby would not make it worse as such. Our fear all along had been that a pregnancy could send me into a relapse but you can't relapse something that's active, if that makes sense. I was on board from the beginning but not Jeremy. It took him months, and months, and months. And that's ok. I love that he is so careful. On November 2, 2009, Jeremy announced he was in. I, naturally, cried. 

More than 15 months have now passed and things haven't gone as planned. Though luck (not sure what else to call it) was on our side the first time round, we haven't had the same journey this time. Despite my crazed (some might say possessed) ways, I have nothing to show, unless you count an extra ten kilos that I really didn't need. I have lost a lot though - namely my right fallopian tube and at times, my sanity. It's not all bad though, lessons have been learned, my marriage has been strengthened even more and I've developed a deeper understanding of what it means to want to be pregnant. And all this after only what in the infertility circles is a teeny, tiny amount of time. That I know. But still, it's been hard. I guess it's all relevant, right? Sure, 15 months sounds a pretty short time in the scheme of things but to me it's felt an eternity.

Lately I've been feeling pretty sad. Not about wanting to fall pregnant, but about the fact that I was and still should be. My sadness is due to missing what was to be. I should have been either five or six months along, depending on which most recent loss you go by. The last one has left me feeling pretty devastated, truth be told. I had an ectopic pregnancy in November that turned into a bit of a drama. I was going to say that it's a long story, but really it's not. Girl got pregnant, very excited, happy it's finally working out, hoping it sticks this time, finds out baby in wrong place, given drugs, drugs don't work, fallopian tube ruptures, has surgery, loses tube. The end. But yes, of course, there is so much more in between.

But, that's all I've got the energy for right now. Not just that but it's late. Night for now. Thanks for reading this far along. x

Kindergarten

This week Lucie started kindergarten. I can hardly believe it. 

How do you go from this?

To this?

I know everyone says it, but it happened in the blink of an eye. She looked so cute!

There are probably more interesting things to talk about, but I am too tired to type them. I'm also suffering too much. I reused Jeremy's spoon earlier thinking he'd had some green jelly (that should have been warning enough... green jelly?!?!?). Turns out it was washing detergent. The taste is hideous. 

Sanity

Mine was on the edge tonight. 

Lucie wouldn't go to sleep. At nearly 10pm I gave up. I am tired and I need space. Yelling was imminent. So I walked away from trying any harder than I already was to get her to pppplllleeeeeeaaaassssseeee GO TO SLEEP, plugged my earphones into the mac and started watching Grey's. I was over it. That was all I could think to do.

In ten short minutes, the start of the latest episode has restored my fading sanity and I am smiling. And wouldn't you know it, she is asleep. Or maybe I just can't hear her :)

p.s - sleep school anyone?