Accepting the inevitable

It's 'mediocre' virus time at the Hamiltons. You know the types. The ones that appear as a sore throat in the morning and a headache and progress to the stage where you notice it all the time, but it's not bad enough to get antibiotics for? Yeah, I know that you knew what I was talking about.

Craig fell sick, then me, then Ava, then Willow followed by the dog (ok, so i'm embellishing a little there).

I know what this means for me- lots of water (if i remember), lots of sleep (if i can get it) and some fruit high in vitamin c (breastfeeding makes taking medicine virtually impossible). I know what this means for Craig (I forget he's even sick because he doesn't like to mope, so he ends up being sick for weeks on end.)

But what does it mean for the kids? Well, Ava's now one and a half, so it just means she's even more sensitive and clingy than normal (can it be possible???) and I've just discovered what that means for a newborn. Back to feeding every 2 hours! Just when you get a little more sleep and a little more "me" time, they snatch it away from you again...

It's a good thing that God makes them too cute to ignore in times like this. =)

And can I say, that I'm missing my Mum, too. If she wasn't visiting my poor sister in Qld who never gets regular help with her toddler like I do, then I know that she'd look after the kids for me so I could get some kick-'a' day sleep.

=) At least Mum taught me that it's nice to 'take turns'. And Alexandra, this weekend is all you're getting! (just kidding, gorgeous Alex, you're amazing!)

I knew it

It's entirely my fault. Avalon had a sleep today for 2 hours, and after waking this morning with a sore throat, i took the opportunity to have a long sleep.

I've learnt before that if I want her to go down at 7pm with minimal fuss, I can't give her more than an hour and 15 during the day in nap time. But I broke the rules. Caus I was tired. And, I mean, how often is is that both girls sleep at the same time so that I can indulge in this lovely afternoon nap? Answer- not often.

So at 7.45 when I was learning some great Masterchef recipes (mmm... scones), Avalon was still awake in her cot and asking for "Mummay more tuggles" in between sobs.

I went in and she's there with her dummy in her mouth, and clutching the spare dummy in her other hand. She immediately stands up.

A little frustrated, I say to her "Avalon, I just want to sit down and watch my tv show. Is that too much to ask?"

"Yep" came her reply.

I wonder when kids start to learn when a question is rhetorical.

Nix losing it

I had a bad day today. And I know that I'm not the only mother in the world who did.

Today, I had very little patience.

I woke up to grey skies, knowing that after finally being allowed out of the house, of course, the weather had to thwart my plans, just to be nasty.

So instead of being able to attend ladies group this morning at church, I was instead confronted by tantrums and discontent.

Avalon was not having a good day herself. I get the feeling that she was just as disappointed as me about our day's plans.

With no car for the morning, we were on our own to make the best of it. My girls and I.

But even though I tried much harder than I normally would to satisfy Avalon's little mind, she rejected every effort. Playdoh was hurled to the floor after 2 minutes, followed by some chalk 3 minutes later which promptly shattered. The final straw was when the whole easel was pushed over, creating the loudest bang and waking Willow from her nap early enough for her to scream in protest.

Boy, was I mad. And all within 10 minutes of our morning starting.

I attempted to regain control. A dummy was placed in a screaming mouth and a toddler was released from the high chair, only for her to throw herself onto the floor and hit her head accidently on the tiles.

I attempted to rock Willow back to sleep but with no response. And Avalon became more angered and distressed because of Willow's cries.

So after my best placating efforts were spent on them both, and as the crying continued, I decided to take some time out. I sat at the table like a woman going mad and drank the rest of my cup of tea before it went cold. With all hell breaking lose around me.

As soon as Craig returned the car that afternoon, I drove Avalon to her Nanas and went grocery shopping with Willow for some sanity.

I'm pleased to report that it worked, and as such, I can retell todays events (which could be the same story at least twice a week) with some humour.

I hope most of you Mums out there had a good one today for me.

Showering alone

Another thing that nobody cared to warn me about when entering motherhood.

The showering experience is redefined.

No longer is it a chance to spend time with your thoughts and the water. No longer does the beating of the wet drown out the cares of the world. Because now, those cares in my world are there with me. In the bathroom. With little hands that pull out shaving cream from drawers and toothpaste tubes off benches.

Those cares are also staring at you with interest while you tell yourself that you shouldn't let your own kid make you feel self-conscious. I mean, one look at them naked and you can tell they haven't given the shape of their curves a second thought.

Those carefree shower days are mostly gone for now, and replaced with singing hi-5 songs and encouraging them to play alone with the various toys you have chosen to occupy them with for the duration of shower time.

It's definitely not a time for me to relax with my own thought. For days where I have ventured to do so end in disaster.

One time, I came to and noticed that the cupboard was not locked, and Ava had fished out a shaver to play with. I thankfully launched out of the shower, saturating her and the floor as I narrowly prevented it from entering her mouth.

But I tell you what, struggling to keep them occupied is still better than waking up 15 minutes earlier than them to chance a shower alone.

Oh precious, precious, ever elusive sleep....

More on "Row your boat"

I've been asked by my friend to explain myself better from the previous "row, row, row your boat" post.

So here's a crude attempt to explain the Buddhist teaching and how it relates to Row your boat:

My Mum says it was written in the 1920's with their romantic view of the world. So they sung that life was a dream. Which i think is vastly different to "but a dream" which i think is translated better as "only a dream".

So my issue with it is that i could be teaching my kiddies that life isn't real, we're part of a dream. Which is confusing at best. I have no other issues with songs that teach realities of life Humpty dumpty- (things break), jack and jill (people break) rock a bye baby (crap happens) ring a rosy (plague- people die)...etc.

But this song sounds Buddhist- that life is just a distraction from us being able to attain nirvana. The eighth point on the path to enlightenment is to remain aloof from the world, aloof from evil states of mind, aloof from all sensations of the senses. Fundamental Buddhism seeks a permanent escape from anguish and suffering (in the world) through realising the ultimate reality (Nirvana).

Hence, why Buddhists try to not "engage" with the world too much, because the world is suffering.

Buddhists, as described by their third noble truth, attempt to overcome suffering by giving up all your wants.

The Buddhist's goal is to not be reborn into this world. And as such, their morals for living in this world are an attempt to not receive karma- because karma comes from wanting and desiring and causes reincarnation.

I know this is a crude description of their beliefs, i've only touched on one of the four noble truths & haven't explained the 8 fold path to enlightenment, but this is all i need to explain my thoughts on row your boat. (sorry, Buddhists on my bad explanation). Please post if you disagree with my understanding, but this is what I was taught about non-westernised (true) Buddhism.

So, when I read row your boat, I read a Buddhist's view of the world, not a post-war idealistic mentality.

Because to them, the ultimate reality is "the one" and they try to refrain from engaging (or as I would see it- sensing) the world. They refrain from grappling with emotions and rather try to distance themselves from feelings, because this can lead to evil thoughts or wants from within. So classic Buddhism would see the world as just a dream. Not worth engaging with in any real emotion of anger, disgust or even joy, because these feelings stem from a desire or need within which must be expelled to attain ultimate reality.

Hence, the world is not real. It is "but a dream..." and not to be taken seriously.

As a Mum and a believer in Christianity, it's not my job to shelter my kids from other teachings, but if I spend a lot of time singing this to them when they're not old enough to understand what I believe is the truth to this world, then I'm not doing a good job of explaining the world to them simply and clearly. I don't want to confuse my kids any more than necessary. I need to teach them first and foremost that there is a God who loves them very much. And that God humbled himself to save us from all the crap that's here. This life is not a dream. Bad stuff really happens here. And it really makes us sad when it happens. And it's ok to feel sad. But just as real as this world is our God. And our God is good. And our God can take us out of this sadness. So we need to know he's there and love him back.

To read more on Buddhism, in more succinct language, visit:

www.fundamentalbuddhism.com

Who knew?

I discovered last night after my house was filled with toxic smoke that plastic microwavable containers can indeed melt.

Craig again looked at me incredulously and asked how it happened.

I looked blankly back at him as he whisked Avy's burnt carrots and the melted container outside into the rain to isolate the smoke.

Craig (accusingly): "Did you put in any water...?"

Me (indignantly): "Yes!" ... oh wait....

Every one else's exams are stressing me out

Maybe it's because I hated exams so much when I was studying at school, then bible college and then again at TAFE that makes me super sensitive to other people during their exam periods.

I think I should just refrain from reading Facebook status updates around July and October.

Row, row, row your boat...

Has anyone really realised what we're teaching our kids, here?

"Row, row row your boat gently down the stream...

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily

Life is but a dream"

I beg to differ...

How many other Buddhist songs are part of our cultural zeitgeist?

I'll have to wait a while before I can explain the stupidity of this song to Avalon. And in the meantime, I might just steer clear from singing it to her.

(pic courtesy of monkey&timmy - flickr)

Why the guilt?

I miss you, Ava.

So the Infectious disease unit told us that we are not to expose Willow to Avalon any more than necessary. They actually suggested that we keep them apart as much as possible because Willow's disease is infectious and can cause boils (hence, the ID men wore gowns and gloves when inspecting her.)

And, fortunately, we have a loving family who are more than willing to take Avy overnight and look after her.

So why is it that I sit here after being single-child Mum for a day feeling guilty? What is it with Motherhood that makes you think that you need to do it all? I could look after Avy as well, but it would be hard to keep her and Willow apart. I'm so grateful for Craig's Mum and Dad and their help. If only I could shake this feeling that I should either be

a) doing something better than writing a blog and/or

b) looking after the people that I brought into this world by myself.

It certainly feels like I'm taking advantage. Especially since Willow isn't acting like a sick child - all sooky and needy.

But I've made a resolve that I'll get up out of this chair and enjoy the added freedom of my night. 

I think I'll do some more laundry.

Little Willow

Little Willow.

I love how snuggly you are on these cold Winter nights as you dig your head deep into my arm. I love how you smile and gurgle at me even when it's time for sleep. I love how you reserve special delighted smiles for your big sister, and wide eyed appreciation of all the toys she shows you. Willow, thankyou for being an easy-going baby and allowing me to still give your big sis the attention she needs in the day.

I'm sorry that sometimes you have to come second. Like when I change your sister's nappy and get her ready for bed. I'm sorry that you cry because I can't cuddle you to sleep then. You're too little to know that I'm not ignoring you, and that I'm rushing the best I can so that both of you are cared for. Please know when you get older that I care just as deeply for you as I do your big sister.

And know that for you, I broke all the rules. You got to sleep in our bed in between Mummy and Daddy for the first 8 weeks of your life. You got the added cushyness of a pillow because of your vomiting and spluttering throughout the night. You were cuddled to sleep for almost every sleep up till now and you were also talked to in the darkness of the night because you are just too cute to ignore. You also have the most lax routine in the world, and can sleep for as long as you want or stay awake for as long as you want. Thankfully, no one has explained this to you thoroughly, so you're an angel at night. You feed and go back to sleep even after cooing for 5 minutes after the feed. As soon as we snuggle, your back off to sleep.

Everyone at the hospital was very impressed with how brave you were with the needles, and Daddy loves that you hardly ever cry. (Tip for the future, Wills- Daddy likes a quiet house.)

I'm looking forward to seeing your independence grow and see your likes and dislikes. As my second child, you are dearly loved and have made our family that much fuller. 

I hope that when you read this in another 6 years time, you'll see how much love we had for you, even when you were only 8 weeks old.

Sickness

(photo courtesy of flickr - mortensen dogmar 'the sickness unto death)

Many of you have probably heard of Willow's visit to the hospital following her sickness from MRSA. 

The little girl is just such a champ. I'm so fortunate that God has given me a child with such a high pain threshold. She deals with everything with such grace already, I'm starting to think that her name Willow is ever so appropriate. She endured several blood tests and heel pricks with the same toughness as you'd expect from a Willow. 

The initial GP gave me the news about her ruptured eardrum and said "well, I guess being a newborn, you wouldn't have known that she was crying out of pain..." I responded with amazement "No, she hardly ever cries! She did cry the other night, which would have been for about 5 minutes." As her mother, I'd like to think that if my child was uncontrollably crying, that I would have sought help knowing that something was wrong. It seems as though with this child, I have to be a bit more on the ball if she's only going to let me know she's contracted a deadly disease from a 5 minute screaming match (and this followed her being up for 5 hours, so I put it down to tiredness...)

Anyway, after being in hospital overnight in the childrens' ward, I was again counting my blessings. There were some very injured kids there. One image which will haunt me was of a young child maybe only a month old or less, with tubes in her nose, and her parents, silently looking in on her sleeping form over the bars of the steel cot. They looked very worried.

It made me think about my response to God if He should decide it best to take Willow from us early, or for any of my children for that matter.

It would be the most overwhelming grief I think I could ever live through. But I would like to think that my relationship with the Lord would become stronger through the pain.

I read of families of missionaries out on the field, and they had plenty of kids, and maybe only 3 would survive. Plagues, sickness would overcome their tiny bodies and without medical assistance (or antibiotics in those days) the children would see death early in life.

I thank God for medicine, for the antibiotics that will hopefully cure Wills of this virulent strain of Staph. I thank him for free health care. I genuinely saw the same care and concern on the doctor's faces as I would have seen in my own reflection this week. And I'm thankful that we are made in the image of God.

I think as time passes and I experience more of the world's pain and sickness, that I will baulk even more strongly at the thought that what we are experiencing now is Heaven.

And I can honestly say that I thank God now for each passing day that brings me closer to the day when I die. When God will wipe every tear from my eyes. Because I see the pain on those children's faces in the ward. Faces that aren't smiling and happy like Willow's. Little kids who have been sick for a long time. Parents who choose to stay in hospital to be with their sick children for months on end. And I think to myself- "this is definitely not heaven". This world should be judged and found to be lacking. This life is only a minute taste of what is to come fully in heaven. All of the joys heightened and all of the sadness dissolved.

As i see more clearly this world for what it really is, the more I long for the life to come. A life where no worldly barriers are in the way of me knowing God fully and walking with him properly.

A life of no more mistakes. I believe that God has prepared a seat for me there, with my name on a beautiful placecard, and with a feast before me. Because one day, I will celebrate with Jesus at his banquet table in all his glory. Because he is a God of abundance and all good things.

Just some pics for Hayles...

My little Ava enjoying the sunshine and waiting for her beloved Daddy to come home for some lunch.
Willow greets me with smiles whenever I'm not too busy to look at her. I captured some on camera so I can keep looking at that beautiful smile even when she's fast asleep snuggled into my arm.
A familiar startled but happy look.

What's in a day...

I cannot believe how quickly the last couple of months has gone.

Willow is quickly becoming a little person and not so much of a newborn as she once was. And I'm starting to see why people with a lot of kids say that the first is the hardest. With the firstborn, you have to learn to live differently and to learn to function on small pockets of sleep scattered throughout what some would define as a "day".

After birthing Avalon, I realised that as a new Mum, a "day" no longer contained all the things that a pre-baby day usually would. And as such, the term "day" was used loosely. I remember when a day was compartmentalised into the sleep period, and then the period of activity. The sleep would usually occur during times when it was dark and quiet outside. The activity when the sun was up. And there would inevitably be large quantities of relaxation and enjoyment and respite interspersed periodically in this "day".

While I do enjoy periods of relaxation (as this blog would suggest), it always holds an air of hope to it now. Hope that I do enjoy this time alone, undisturbed. Hope that the time spent relaxing was the best choice, or whether sleep would have been a better call. And hope that this won't be the last pocket of "me" time I gain in the next few days, Because sometimes with sickness in the household, it can be.

The periods of sleep an activity are as a new Mum, all over the shop. Newborns often awake for the night time and then sleep throughout the day (when most people and toddlers expect for you to be out of bed and at least coherent.)

And the fact that sleep no longer defines the end of the day and the start of another is a little unnerving. It throws you off for a while. 

Besides, what day is it anyway? I'm often even asking at doctors offices what month we're in. Apart from Christmas month and my birthday month, I'm pretty much oblivious now.

So as I go down for one of my short "naps" for today (or is it tomorrow) I thought I'd share something that once took me for a spin, but which I have now accepted as my life. And I look towards the day, not without some sadness, of when days will return again to be what they formally were. (if that even makes sense)