On anxiety round 476... FIGHT

Ah, anxiety.  I know you well.

I am one of those anxious people who usually has my anxiety managed well enough that most people don't notice, or don't believe me when I say I have anxiety.  Also, most of the time I'm fairly asymptomatic, and usually when it gets bad I do something about it pronto.  BUT, anxiety can creep up on you.

And my anxiety is of the social kind.  Yes, I'm a people person.  Yes, I have a bunch of friends and overshare way too much via social media, but that's irrelevant.  Cos when my anxiety is bad I tend not to leave the house, and sit comfortably behind my keyboard maintaining my façade of being a happy but busy person, from afar.

People close to me (ie: the few that see me) can often tell my anxiety is getting bad because I'm just a straight up bitch.  I'm bossy.  I'm not good at controlling my impulse to control my environment.  I can be straight up mean.  And it's no excuse, but it's because every aspect of being around other people, including those close to me, makes me uncomfortable.  Because adrenaline is usually coursing through my veins, so I either want to punch things or cry.  And it will just be because dinner might be running slightly late, or the drinks aren't cold, or my baby isn't asleep yet.  Things that aren't usually a big deal can't help but be when the chemicals coursing through your bloodstream are telling you they are.

When my anxiety is really bad, I can't leave the house because I have no chance of controlling anything.  I am afraid of many things including the following:

1.       I might see my neighbours and they will know I am crazy

2.       I may run into someone else I know and they will know I am crazy

3.       I may have to converse with a stranger and they will know I am crazy

4.       I may have to converse with a shop keeper and they will know I am crazy

5.       I may run late for (and miss) the bus, making my anxiety worse

6.       I may be early for the bus, and in waiting, make my anxiety worse

7.       I may cry in public

Because even though I come across as a confident person, I'm actually a total wuss.  And I don't like people seeing me at my most vulnerable.  Not any people.  Not those close to me, not total strangers.  No-one.  I want to cry alone and eat chips in front of a crappy movie.

So when it became apparent recently that my anxiety had gradually crept up to too-anxious-to-leave-the-house status I thought I better go to the Dr.

But that was hard.  And not just because it involved leaving the house.  It was harder than usual because these days I have another beyond my control factor to take into account when trying to do anything - a baby.  Calling and making the appointment was the easy part.  I booked an appointment for a time that would usually be pretty ideal for how Etta does stuff during the day.  But being that she's never really been that routine a baby, I had to wake her up from her nap to get to the bus on time.  And because I knew I had to leave the house, my anxiety had been building since I put Etta down for her nap.

And it didn't subside until well after I got home from the Dr after having to wait for 20 minutes to see him, talking about my anxiety, getting bits shoved up my hoo haa (smear),filling a prescription, eating something (hadn't eaten since 8am as forgot because I was anxious), and getting a bus during peak traffic with a cranky bored baby.  But I managed to leave the house.

And hopefully soon I won't feel so bad.  Although I haven't been on anxiety medicine in about four years, I decided in this instance that it was not a bad idea.  With being responsible for another person 24/7 it's difficult to do the things I usually do to help get my anxiety back on track.  Where normally I would just try to sleep more, it's something not that easy to control with a baby who wakes 2 - 4 times a night*.  My standard exercise (walking) has currently been thwarted by crazy hot sun, and anything else requires another person to look after Etta (um, bonus person + social anxiety = scary).  We are working on getting me more alone time with having Daddy/Etta Sundays, which is great, but not a magic fix-all.

So, yet again, I will be ok and life will go on etc etc overcoming stuff yada yada.

Just one FYI to 'normies' dealing with people with anxiety - telling someone with anxiety they just need to 'chill out' is not great advice.  It's like telling someone with insomnia they just need to get some sleep...**

*I'm also a super light sleeper.  I wake up when the neighbours baby wakes up.  It's not all Etta's fault.

** Or telling a depressed person to just smile... Let me just remind you that these are mental health conditions.  If it were as simple as an anxious person just going 'Wow!  I never thought of that before, I will just chill out' then we'd all be doing it.  Chilling out is something we may actually do cognitive therapy to achieve.  Rational solutions aren't always that rational when applied to us 'crazies'.  If you can't find something constructive to say when someone tells you this stuff - I advise just giving chocolates, or whatever you keep in your handbag:
'Oh, it sucks your anxiety is so bad.  Here, have some chocolate' or
'Oh, it sucks your anxiety is so bad.  Here, have some ketchup from McDonalds, 10 cents and this perfume tester'

On Making Baby food

 

 


On the left, a breakfast stack: plum, apple, rhubarb and yoghurt.  On the right a dinner stack: silverbeet, squash, lambs fry and potato

I love all things food.  So it's no surprise that I also love pretty much everything about making food for our new little person.  And lucky for me, she seems to also love food, and besides bananas, she's been quite keen on trying pretty much anything we throw her way.

 
At this stage we're still keeping it pretty simple.  I often forget that being born a little early, Etta's not quite her age.  We're not worried about it - it's just how she is.  At 8 months, she just started sitting by herself.  She still has no teeth, and no sign of almost teeth.  And her system seems a little slower too.  We tried feeding her finger foods and although she enjoyed it, not only has she really, really choked*a few times, but the more solid foods have passed through her system untouched (these are foods she has no trouble processing when mushy).  So while I know other babies her age have a far more complex cuisine, I'm happy just cruising along at Etta-speed.

So we're still on purées**, but man, I love purées. 

The three things I love most about them are:

a) simplicity

b) process

c) colour

There's an honesty in basic, unaltered foods.  Making food for Etta has helped me to appreciate the essence of simple foods.  I've learned that a mashed potato, with no salt, no pepper or milk, still tastes great.  Just potato is earthy, soft and hearty.  Just potato is fantastic.  Remembering exactly what just potato tastes like helps me know what I can do in grown up cooking to bring out that Just potato flavour in meals.

And although baby food from the supermarket is supposed to be pretty natural, who really knows?  Not only do we save money making Etta's food, but we know exactly what's going into her system (besides random floor-scum).  Some of her foods come straight from our garden (silverbeet, spinach, rhubarb), or from friends (apples, plums).  And they're so easy to prepare: peel, cook, puree (or mash).  Done.  If we bought food for Etta's every meal, not only would we have a large collection of jars, but we'd also spend an additional $20 a week feeding her.  I can think of many better ways of spending $20.

Cooking for Etta has helped me pay more attention to the textures in foods - pulsed peas go kinda crumbly, apple explodes into mush, silverbeet is a green tangle of fibrous shreds, and chicken is actually quite similar in texture to silverbeet.  All these textures remind me of why it's fun to play with foods.  And there's something especially visceral about mush.  I've missed mush.

To make food prep efficient I make Etta's food in batches and freeze in silicon mini-muffin pans.  I've found these are MUCH easier to get frozen purées out of than the old ice cube trays Mum used to use.  Once frozen, I pop them out, and into small, dated and labelled resealable bags (I reuse and re-date these to create less waste).  Little bags save on space in the freezer - of great import to us given the size of our freezer, and mean I can keep a wide array of 'Etta food' on hand. 

To prep each meal, I just grab an assortment of cubes to defrost in the morning, and mix accordingly for each meal.  Breakfasts include fruits mixed with baby rice and yoghurt.  Lunches and dinners are usually pretty much the same - a protein, green vege, orange vege and a starch (usually potato).  Just like a balanced grown-up meal only mulchy. 

And her food is beautiful.  Maybe it's just the past-life painter in me***, but it's hard not to notice the palette of Etta's food.  I thought avocado was the height of baby-food hues - until I puréed light fleshed plums which turned this amazing salmon pink.  Pretty much all fruit when puréed and frozen looks like stained glass.  Chicken goes a peaches-n-cream-just-off-white, silverbeet a dark licoricy green.  And lambs fry looks just like chocolate mousse.  Each new food I make for her is not just new and exciting for her, but me too.

And with so much natural, unaltered colour you know your baby is getting decent nutrition.  I totally get why the whole 'baby food diet' fad seems logical.  Etta's diet is certainly way better than mine (damn you sugar addiction!)  Spending time prepping Etta's healthy meals also reminds me that I should take as much care with my own.  I now make a conscious effort to at least eat as many colours as she does each day.

And I can't wait for our tūtaekurī harvest to add purple to Etta's dinner rainbow.  

* As in, not a little choke, as in had their been no parental assistance she may well have choked to death sort of choke.  As in, where is the colour chart to tell you what colour your child's face should be before not calling an ambulance is considered negligence?

** Progressively chunkier purées... 

*** Studying painting at Unitec was a long time ago now but at times feels like it's still current.  I STILL have anxiety dreams where I'm trying to get my studio together for marking only I haven't done any work.  Subconscious guilt about lack of practice much?

On An Annoying Assumption About Stay-At-Home-Mums

Just something to think on... not like I have time to bake cakes.  And sorry about bad formatting, not sure how to change the video embedding thing and too tired to learn...

Hi Blog, sorry we haven't spoken for so long.  Sorry our first conversation in ages has to be like this, but some things need to be vented.  Now.

I am extremely time poor.

Many people are these days, and this is not really a complaint, more an annoyance that in this instance everyone assumes that because I am a stay at home Mum I have all the time in the world.  People seem to think that I'm just itching for company parked in front of the TV eating chips.  That I crave adult conversation and have nothing interesting to do while I'm at home looking after my 8 month old.  That I have nothing better to do.

It's just not true.  It's not even close to true.  I am busier now than I was when I was working fifty hour weeks.  This is why it's been so long since I last blogged.  I find it hard to find time or brain or both coinciding at a point in time when I am home alone (ie: at home with Etta but not under pressure to spend time with other adult humans).  Some days I forget to go to the toilet.  At the top of my daily 'jobs list' I write:

 'eat breakfast, brush my teeth and wash my face'. 
Because otherwise I'd forget.

So I find it extremely irritating that people assume that my schedule is wide open, and they can just pop by for a cup of tea any time.  Don't get me wrong, I am grateful to have friends and family that care enough to visit, I'm just saying I'd love a heads up.

Because I don't actually have that much time available.

So to summarise (because I don't have much time) these are the things I might have otherwise been doing with my time when people stop by to visit:

-          Calming an overtired cranky baby.  We have a pretty easy baby compared to some.  But if you pop by in the middle of me attempting to get her to nap when she's unhappy, you will likely encounter a frustrated, overtired cranky Mum.  Not only that, but your mere presence is likely to lay all my carefully put in groundwork aside, and make it harder for me to get her to sleep.  Which is not only not fun for the immediate, visit time, but also not fun for me for the rest of the day, and potentially, night.  If I were expecting you I could postpone the visit (even by maybe half an hour) and make things nicer for all parties involved.

-          House work.  This needs to be done regularly to maintain my sanity and ensure Etta does not choke on dust-bunnies (she has).  This includes: (but is in no way limited to) washing dishes, drying dishes, doing laundry, running-about-like-a-mad-thing-when-it's-about-to-rain-bringing-washing-in, scrubbing/vacuuming/mopping, mending clothes, cleaning the bathroom and toilet, cleaning the windows, tidying the pantry/fridge/freezer, wiping down benches/the oven/light switches/skirting boards/doors, cleaning up after faeces/vomit /saliva/unknown.

-          Organising our way-too-much-stuff.  I'm trying to organise our clutter so that once Etta starts crawling (I've probably got a month) everything is not destroyed in a baby-tsunami and I will not have to dedicate even more time to cleaning.

-          Reading about babies.  I know nought of these things, and every day is different so there is MUCH to learn.

-          Making baby food.  Etta is eating more and more these days, and I am her personal chef as buying baby food is uneconomical.  Plus making baby food is kinda fun.

-          Making adult food.  We're on a budget here.  And I have a Murray.  And he needs to be fed.  And making adult food is also kinda fun.  Attempting to master gluten free sourdough right now.  Being a tight arse is fun!

-          Breastfeeding.  Not only do I need time for my excited-about-everything baby to just focus on eating and not other people (or cats), but I need time to eat/drink/sleep/be healthy to ensure I can do this for as long as Etta needs me to.

-          Having a shower.

-          Going for a walk.  To get things or get rid of things.  Or to get some vitamin D. Or to have some time out from a fussy baby.  Usually all of the above.

-          Gardening.  Although our gardens are pretty low maintenance there is still always weeding and harvesting to be done.

-          Getting help and support via parenting forums.  Seriously, invaluable.  Like a coffee group, only you can access whenever you want/need and don't have to leave the house.  Or get dressed.

-          Budgeting and planning.  This sounds boring, but it's one of the important ways I feel I contribute to our family.  It keeps us on track to end goal(s) and helps us appreciate the small things (we saved x here so we can now spend y here.  Yay!)

-          Doing online surveys for $$ - another small (but important way) I contribute to our family.  Surveys funded a significant portion of our Christmas last year.

-          Working.  I have a job.  It is small, but I am struggling at the moment to put in the minimum amount of time I'd like in, and would love to be able to put more time in.

-          Spending time with our neglected pets.   Pretty important.

-          Spending time with my neglected partner.  Also pretty important (not as likely if you drop by on a weekday, but never assume).

-          Relaxing.  I don't get much time to do this.  So you might catch me JUST about to sit down with a cup of tea and no work/cleaning/jobs, maybe for the first time in three days.

-          Spending precious little one-on-one time with my daughter.  Time is flying by and soon she won't be excited by the weird noises I can make, or my singing, or stories, or the jolly jumper.   I'm  a stay-at-home Mum for a reason, and this is really it.  We actually go out or have friends over more days of the week than not, so time alone with Etta is precious and super exciting.

And there are things I'd like to be doing with time, but seldom manage:

-          Blogging.  I'd love to do more of this.  I have plenty to say that isn't just crazy rants.

-          Drawing.  Now our house is tidier my brain is a little clearer and I think I might actually be able to start practicing this again.  I really hope so.  Maybe even painting.

-          Knitting.  I don't really even have brain for this much at the moment.  It sucks.

-          Sewing.  I worked out how to make some things over Christmas.  I'd love to make some of those things for me.  And maybe some other things.

-      Learning.  Pretty keen to do some online courses in prep for going back fore more study in the coming years.

-          Sleeping.  Yeah right.  Once Etta masters regular 2 hour naps maybe...

I am sure that being time-poor is not unique to myself as a stay at home Mum.  And I'm also sure that some Mum's aren't as worried about people dropping by, but most of us probably aren't just lazing around at home eating chocolates and watching telly waiting for people to 'drop 'round'.  Most of us are actually really busy just being stay at home Mum's.  It's no small task. 

So if you do want to visit a SAHM that's very lovely and thoughtful of you, maybe just do us the courtesy of calling to check first.

If we have time, we might even bake you a cake.

On Etta's First Christmas

                                     Our humble Christmas tree (and bless our mess)

Hello Blog

Sorry it's been so long.  With a barrage of baby illness and parental brain fuzz there's been no chance of visiting you.  Don't get me wrong - there's been time - just not brain or stamina to even consider writing.  My brain has been awash with blog topics over the last month: baby feeding, Unitec Design department job losses, the marketing/gendering baby clothing debacle.  And today I've decided not to be precious about my writing, and not to be intellectual, but to write about the obvious at hand: Christmas.

So it's Etta's first Christmas and time to start establishing our own family traditions.  And as a lover of  Christmas, this is super important to me.  BUT, there are a lot of things about contemporary Christmas I don't love.  One of those things is Santa and here are my main reasons why:

- Santa divorces gifts received from the notion of 'giving'

- Santa makes more visible the gap between rich and poor

- Santa encourages us to lie to our kids

'What do you want for Christmas?' is the standard Santa-lap-child dialogue.  Not who are you spending Christmas with, not what are you getting Mummy and Daddy - just what do you want.  And combined with the amount of marketing we encounter in our daily lives, the message that 'YOU NEED THIS THING' is constant, and really doesn't need reinforcing by a bearded man in a red suit. 

To me Christmas is about giving to those you love.  It may be gifts, it may be food, it may be time, or it may just be kind thoughts.  If you are Christian, the importance of giving is highlighted through the nativity story - Jesus wasn't expecting anything, but people wanted to give to their new messiah.  Jesus wasn't making lists and awaiting Furby's - and if he weren't a newborn babe I think he would just have been stoked so many people showed up to say hi.* 

I love giving to others, and Christmas is prime time for doing that.  I want to share this love of giving with Etta.  So of course she is going to get presents, but from us, not 'Santa'.  And because Murray is 'pro Santa' we've come up with a compromise - which is St Nicholas who made gifts for the orphans (in simplified version).  So in the vein, Etta will have one handmade St Nicholas present to remember this kind act each Christmas.  And coming up to Christmas we will also sort through her toys, and give half of them away to charity.  When she is older, she can choose what she keeps, and what she gives away, and to whom, herself. 

Because Santa is all about gifts, and what kids want from Santa is informed by marketing, Christmas is a time that clearly establishes the kids whose parents have money, and the kids that don't.  This, combined with the 'Santa only gives presents to good kids' thing further concretes the rich = good, poor = bad dichotomy which has been exacerbated by the 'bene-bashing' of our current government. 

This is not only important to me because of my political leanings, but because I was the poor/bad kid growing up.  I was the kid that asked my Mum if I'd been bad, as my Santa gifts were not comparable with that of my middle class cousins.  This must have been heartbreaking for my parents.  They did their best, and in spite of this I have very fond memories of Christmas because we celebrated other things.  But for many, Santa puts undue stress and pressure on those who just can't afford him.  Because of my values I can't pass this dichotomy on to my daughter.  Plenty of other people will do this for her.  I want to ensure that at least, at home, she knows that a person is not valued by what they, or their parents, earn.

The lying thing... now this will be the hardest point for folks to swallow.  For most, Santa is not lying, but 'magic' and I totally get that.  I get the wonder of childhood, the tooth fairy, the mystery of falling asleep somewhere and waking up somewhere else.  I get the excitement around reindeer excrement.  Trust me, I do.  But for me, when I found out that it was a ruse (and I didn't find out until I was quite old, maybe even 9) because I had believed so strongly in the magic I lost faith in my parents.  I know that most kids don't feel/react this way.  I know this will have been more pertinent to me because I had other reasons to distrust my parents, but in spite of this, I can't conscionably lie to my daughter.  I just can't.

We will do our utmost to ensure that she doesn't ruin the magic for others, but as my Mum pointed out - she will not be the only kid at her school who doesn't 'do' Santa.  We live in a multicultural world these days, especially in Auckland.  Many people who live here do not have faith systems that revolve around Christmas.  Etta will not be alone in her Santalessness.

And instead of Santa we'll teach her about the origins of Christmas.  About the nativity story and why Jesus is important (culturally, not just in a theological sense).  About St Nicholas and the orphans (ignoring the whole 'dowry' drama), and about Winter Solstice.  We'll go at her pace, but we will not boil Christmas down into the simple Santa/gift dealio.

And Etta will still have magic.  The magic in Christmassy smells - ginger and cinnamon, fresh pine and mint, BBQ and roast.  The magic in the rustle of wrapping paper, in Christmas carols and fairy light lit nights.  And the magic in that warm feeling you get when you give to others and receive a genuine smile.

Meri Kirihimete ki a kotou, arohanui mai x x

           Cookies me and Mum made for the dementia residents at Craigwell house

* Just need to clarify I am not religious (although I was raised vaguely Christian), but love the nativity story and am totes down with Jesus.  So many good life lessons in his teachings, many of which are especially pertinent today.