On My Suburban Birds Project

So there's a reason why I haven't blogged in ages, and it's not just because I'm working and have small kids and try to sleep as much as I possibly can during the small windows available to me (although those are rather large factors).  At the moment I'm working on a year long project where I take photographs of local birds every day.

 And by every day I mean every single day.  It means literally every day.  Today was day 71, and whilst today wasn't an amazing day photographically I still did it.

So why am I doing this you ask?

Well, the idea came out of me doing one of my thirty days of gratitude shticks on Facebook.  It's where every day, for thirty days, I came up with three things I'm grateful for.  Because I'd been a bit down about life generally, and gratitude is a proven method of curing depression.  Whilst doing this, I discovered I was often looking toward nature around our house and feeling grateful for it.  I also started taking photographs a little more of what I saw so I could illustrate these small but powerful things brightening my life.

At a deeper level, Suburban Birds is a reflection of my own suburban life.  I never expected to be a suburban housewife.  Never in a million years.  Having grown up in the country, I kind of anticipated returning to it as a grown up.  Which is weird, considering I have no skills with which to provide a means to support myself in the country.  Anyhow.  I also never expected to be a wife to anyone, let alone a mother.  So whilst I love where I am and what I do, when I step back and look at it sometimes it seems a bit strange.

But that's only when I look at it from the perspective of an outsider looking in - a stranger.  Someone making assumptions based on pre-designated ideas about what it means to be a suburban housewife.  I imagine those people might see us as swarms of Mountain Buggied yoga pants wearing decaf drinking ladies trying to work off those bonus baby bumps.  Or maybe as an attache to our partners living their successful lives outside the home.  Or maybe they don't even see us at all.

And it was the invisibility aspect of things which I really associate with birds.  People almost never
even think about birds in the suburbs.  Especially not the grey/brown birds like the sparrows and pigeons.  But they are always there.  If you just sit still and listen at almost any point in time during the day you will hear them.  And if you look, you'll see them too.  And whilst at first glance, all may seem alike given time you come to notice their differences.  Not just in species, but in age, colour, body tone, flight pattern, song.  In time they all become individuals just trying to live their lives alongside us.  And they are beautiful and funny and unique and amazing.

All of them.  Not just the native birds NZ is famous for but the imports too.  The sparrows, the thrushes, the blackbirds the mynas.  Even the pigeons.  All of them.  They are all part of the landscape and soundscape that form the backdrop of our lives.

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When I started this project I expected it to be another thirty day Facebook project.  Then after a few weeks I realised I needed maybe 100 days.  But then realised I needed more.  Because every single day doing this one simple thing was helping me feel connected with the world I live in.  And there is just so much to see.

Today was not an amazing day.  On a Thursday I usually take photographs near a few bridges over Opanuku Stream, but it was too rainy for this to be feasible to do in work gear.  So I just took some pictures of Southern black backed gulls on the council buildings whilst I waited for my bus home from work.  But what you can't see here is how on my afternoon break I tried to take photos.  I went into the bush and found a pukeko too fast for my camera.  I tried to spot wildlife over the stream standing on the wobbly metal overbridge and heard birds hiding out from the rain, but spotted nothing.  I went outside into the world and looked around.

And this looking has resulted in all kinds of things.  I've had a conversation with a woman who discovered a magical spot at the same time as me.  She took off her shoes and walked down to some rocks under a bridge to look at the wildlife and to ask me what she was doing.  She was from New Lynn and had lived there for fifteen years.  She had only been to Henderson a handful of times.  It is not easy to describe, but it was a special meeting.  And it occurred less than 20 metres from Alderman Drive Pak N Save.

One day whilst perusing local bush by the mall I spotted what I thought was a homeless persons possession stash.  On closer inspection, at a later point in time I discovered it was actually discarded stolen objects.  Empty bags and purses, a glasses case, a low value jersey.

On Sunday I interrupted someone sleeping in the bush.  It was an awkward moment.  We were very close to throngs of people, yet a world away.  Consequently we each were frightened of how the other would react.  And, much like the birds I try to capture on film, he ran away before I could apologise to him, for my presence in what is normally maybe a safe place to take a kip.

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 At this stage, I'm planning on doing this for a year and taking stock from there.  I don't know what it will result in.  Maybe an exhibition?  Maybe a zine?  Maybe a calendar?  I'm not sure.  I haven't approached anyone yet and I won't be any time soon.  I am tweeting my pictures because I think the idea of tweeting about birds is hilarious and this is the only reason I use Twitter.  And maybe somewhere out there in 'real' bird land might have some ideas or insight. 

What I do know is that this is good for me.  And it's good for my family.  Murray can't not notice birds now.  He knows all the best places to spot them between our house the the train station now.  He's even taken some photographs himself.  He is far better at bird spotting than I am (pros of 20 20 vision). And we've found an amazing spot to take the kids to 'go look at ducks'.  They love it.

This gives me piece of mind.  It gives me something outside of my suburban life and home, whilst bring something so much part of my suburban life and home.

I think birdwatching could be the next big thing in curing depression.  But even that's not the point.  The point is to see what is living around you.  Because one you see it, it's hard to unsee.

On going back to work

So I put my big girl pants on - sent my CV out, filled out a form and sat through one 3 minute interview and lo and behold - I am now a working Mum.

When I decided it was time to go back to work I also made the decision that it wouldn't be a career move for me.  Since Mumhood my brain feels a bit shattered.  As it is, I don't remember the last time I had a five hour solid stretch of sleep.  I think there's been one since Abby was born almost 18 months ago - but I can't remember when.  So taking on something really meaningful and important is not something I felt quite ready to do.

The unedited me-right-now pic.  This is the face of a person not ready for a career.
Or willing to wear pants for more than three days a week.

I also wanted to work close to home.  Having previously had a small commute to Pt Chev for my dream easy job (Video Ezy Pt Chev RIP) I felt that it was in mine, and my families best interests that I work closer.  Cos with double the children there is double the chance of needing to rush back because of spew, coughs, temps, falls or radioactive spider bites.  And given we live a mere 20 minute walk from Westcity Mall and I'm filled to the brim with retail experience, it made sense to look for something there.

I never heard back from the first few places I dropped my updated CV into after seeing ads on Trademe (your loss Hush Puppies and that other place I can't even remember).  And as there was no real hurry for me to return to work I just sat on my hands for a bit. 

Then one day I was having a Mummy-Etta date at the mall and happened to run into my Mother In Law.  She informed me that there were pasta machines on sale for $15 in Stevens and she would gladly watch Etta for a few minutes while I went to get one - if I wanted to (which I did) - because she knows I like making pasta.  After waiting in the longest queue ever for my machine of pastariffic joy, and receiving many comments from fellow shoppers in the line ('How do you just buy one thing at a sale?') I finally paid for my machine and noticed a sign on the counter offering part time work.

Whilst that time was clearly not the best to inquire further, I perused the sale again a few days later and asked about the position.  The lady who is now my manager printed me out an application form which I dropped back a few days later.  Then after going through credit and security checks I got the green light - I was a Stevens employee.

They funniest part of me ending up working for Stevens is this:

Younger Hannah was banned from Stevens.

It was a self enforced ban.  It was placed on me by me for my own good.  Some women buy clothes they don't need.  I buy kitchen things I don't need.  I'm just a sucker for kitchen porn.  And Stevens had the shiniest and glassiest and prettiest and on saliest things of them all.  Younger Hannah recognised that was not good for her or her bank account and promptly put a stop to it.*

Buying that pasta machine is the first thing I'd bought from Stevens in probably 10 years.

 The kitchen porn specialists.  A dangerous place.

So how is working life as a Mum of two kids?

The best part is that it enforces time away from the kids, which I sorely needed.  Being a SAHM can make you go stir crazy.  And for someone with an existing mental health diagnosis, being stir crazy is not really something to aim for.  Just being able to be an adult who can pee alone and have grown up conversations and not have to carry a flailing screaming toddler around for a few hours a week makes a massive difference.

The next best (and most obvious) part is that we have a bit more money.  With me returning to work in a low income position we really had to do some math and balance out exactly how much I'd have to work to make it feasible (too little and we're better off getting our WFF tax credits, too much and it interferes with how much time I want to spend with the kids).  I was very lucky to find a job with pretty much the right balance - so it means we do have a little extra each week which takes the pressure off everyone a little.

The other part, that I hadn't really expected, was finding a new community outside of my home.  I am very used to working alone.  Well, not totally alone cos customers but, you know, a numero uno sole staff person thing.  At Stevens, whilst I do work sole charge sometimes, I usually don't.  And while our team at Stevens is small (5 permanent staff), the team at Farmers isn't (our store is a store within a store**).  So I get to work with and see lots of lovely people every day.  And whilst thinking I might be the odd one out of our little team (manager is older than me but all other staff MUCH younger) that just hasn't been the case.  Despite my lack of knowledge of current culture, I seem to get along ok with everyone.  I even go out to pub quiz with a small Farmers/Stevens team once a week.  It's fantastic.

The only issue is that old chestnut of finding the balance of how much to work.  As we've had some big changes at our store since I started, there have been a lot more hours come up that I could work if I want.  Which means more money which is always helpful.  But also means more time away from the kids.  I think we've found the working balance of the maximum I can work without tipping things over at home***.  But I know how hard it can be to enforce this.

Especially because time away from the kids is a little like crack.  After a few days of it I can see why some people might actually prefer to work than be home with the kids.  Whilst I love my kids to bits they can drive me a little nuts.  Going to work feels a bit like having a holiday from being at home.  Honestly, when I'm sick I'd prefer to be at work because I get more rest there than at home.

Just remember: this is called parenting, not babysitting.
Actually, this is called eating noodles.

 
Do I worry about the kids when I'm at work?  Not really, because we have a crack team of co-parent and Grandparents on the case.  And me working gives them time to build better one on one relationships with each other.  Which I think is important.  I was lucky to grow up living with one set of my Grandparents at varying points in time.  The skills and knowledge I learned from these times was priceless.  This is a gift I'd love for my kids to have too.

The only real con of working is that I neglect writing posts.  Truly, there are so many half finished posts jammed up in editing that I just haven't had the brain to finish.  I want them to be out there.  I have important things to say dagnabbit!  And one day I might actually start getting some sleep and then BAM - posts galore.  And then who knows what else I'll achieve with this brain of mine?****

* Even Younger Hannah banned me from buying cookbooks.  In my early 20's I had a sort out once and realised I had over 40 of them.  Since then I have never bought myself a cookbook.  Seriously, it's been about 15 years.  I was going to make an exception for my previous boss and friend Sarah King's book because - well - that was a bit different.  But I was lucky enough to be gifted one by Sarah so I actually didn't break that ban even then.

** Stevens and Farmers are both owned by JPL Group Ltd.  The decision for Stevens to move inside Farmers (which happened about four years ago) at Westcity was because of money/rent pay-the-bills based decisions - it ended up being an arrangement beneficial to both parties (but mostly Stevens) and hey, all owned by the same peoples anyway.  For me, it means I have the benefit of working within a small team under the infrastructure of a large company which is kind of the best of both worlds (I don't ever have to fix computers!  Yay!)

*** If I'm away too much the kids start acting out, and no amount of money is enough to compensate me for a tantrumming Etta.  So if I can avoid pushing them to this point as much as I can then I will.  It makes us all happier in the long run.

**** What my brain will probably actually realise is that if I want to live in pyjamas I have to continue to appear like someone who doesn't actually sleep.  So maybe it'll just have that realisation and that'll be it.  The rest of my brain will be dedicated to raising the kids, crafting Excel spreadsheets and splicing and creating new roses.  In my pyjamas.  Of course.

On why I haven't blogged in aaaaaaaaaaaaages.

ADVANCE WARNING: This post is written for my own gain - not anyone elses.  So please read if you like, but it's a bit meh.

Catch up blogs are lame.

But sometimes necessary.  In this instance I'm hoping it gives me a little impetus to start writing again.  I have several unfinished posts hiding in folders unpublished, but am having difficulty finishing them because I'm having difficulty thinking real good.  Which is why it's been almost two months since my last post.  Which makes me sad.

I'm just feeling worn out.

Since I last posted I have:
- Gone back to work part time at our local Stevens
- Been a contestant on Family Feud

Me dick dancing in the soundproof booth with fancy make up on.

Both of which have been awesome but challenging experiences and I hope to blog about both soon.

The thing that's been the clincher to not posting is that I actually had/have the flu. 

'So what?' says you.  Well, I never get the flu.  Like, literally.  I often get a little bit of a bug for a couple of days, but I don't actually think I've been properly sick for this long since I was a teenager. 

I think my immune system is screwed.  I've been on two lots of antibiotics for other ailments before I even got proper sick - and one of those ailments seems to be back.  And it's painful and tiring and makes me just want to hide in a hole eating cheese and crying alone.  Because currently it literally hurts to be hugged.  It just seems to be one thing after another - never serious, but enough to be exhausting.  And on top of that I have the flu.  Which is the congested sinuses, awful cough, difficulty breathing, sore throat flu that everyone in West Auckland seems to have.  It's awful.

And what doesn't help is being a Mum.  Pre-Mumming if I did happen to get a bit crook I could do this magical thing called 'sleeping' and that would help get me on the path to wellness pretty quick.  These days I have these things called 'children' and - although I know this isn't true - it seems like they actively conspire to plan their naps and nights so that I can never sleep.*  They seem to take turns at not sleeping.  And while I'm glad that it means at least one of them is sleeping it means that, nonetheless, I am not.

Actual sick me sans make up.  And Etta

And not sleeping does not help me get better.  And it makes it harder to get to the Drs because juggling kids plus tired plus outing = impossible.  And the biggest pro of going to work currently is that - even though I'm not sleeping - I get more rest there than I do at home.  Sick days?  Why would I do that to myself? 

Conversations at home:
'Mum, why is R2 putting C3PO's foot back on?'
'Because it got cut off somehow and R2 is a fixing droid thing'
'Why is R2 a fixing droid?'
'Ask your Dad'
'But R2 was laughing at C3PO - why is he helping now'
'Because he's his friend and it's good to help your friends.'
'But why?  How did his foot come off?'
'I honestly don't know Etta.  Sorry'
'Mama Mama Mama Mama MAMA''..... {sigh}....'

Conversations at work:
'Do you have any bottle openers?'
'Yes.  They're right here, and are currently on a half price special.'


Work is just easier.

Don't get me wrong - I love my kids.  But when I feel like I struggle to manage my own wellbeing it is hard to be a parent.

I read this and it basically says: 'I'm so not used to being sick that being sick is way hard.' and 'Being a parent sucks'.  Both of which are totally true - but I can't see these statements and not think about people having things way worse.  Like, parents who are properly sick.  Or parents of kids that are often sick - or are really really sick.  Or single parents.  Or parents without the support networks I have.  Or homeless parents.  Or full-time working parents. 

And I know many people in these situations.  I think they are all fucking heroes.

I wish I could sit with my inability to manage simple things and be ok with it.  I think that is heroic too.  But I can't.  I know it's just my anxiety being a douche - but that knowledge doesn't make it any easier.  And the energy I expend on this equally doesn't help with the exhaustion and probably not the illness either.

Sigh.

Anyway.  One thing which is making me feel better is writing this.  I feel massive guilt when I'm not writing.  I think it's in part because I went to art school and feel like I need to at least be doing something creative.  But in fact, the bigger part is that I have so many things I want to say.  I have so many thoughts in my brain.  But they are transitory and impermanent - especially these post-kid days where my baby brain seems to be permanent.  They are there, and then lost.  And I'm always sure they're important.  Whether they are or not is moot really, but that feeling of not saying something important when you should is another thing that weighs on me.

And I feel a little lighter now

* Which is really counter intuitive if you ask me.  

Some things I never expected I'd do as a parent before I was a parent

1) That I'd ever co-sleep with a baby

Let alone every night for the first six months!

I have never been against co-sleeping.  But my anxiety made me so paranoid about SIDS and having read co-sleeping could be a factor* I never even considered it as an option.  So when I had Etta I didn't even consider it.  But she was a fairly 'normal' baby.

But then along came Abby...
Even that first (and only) night in hospital she slept on her stomach on my chest because her breathing was so ragged.  But then it was the night after that, and then the night after that.  Because Abby would not sleep unless she was touching another human.  Not even for naps.  Once you get a reflux/colicy/unhappy baby that doesn't sleep (and just cries) you will literally do ANYTHING for sleep.  Not that co-sleeping was conducive to sleep for me**.  The reason it took six months to stop co-sleeping was because I was too sleep deprived to have enough brain to formulate a plan to stop co-sleeping.

Post kids my theory on co-sleeping is: do what you gotta (or wanna) do.

2) That I wouldn't want to return to work
I hated being pregnant.  I hated it SO MUCH.  And before I was even pregnant I knew I'd hate it because I've always associated pregnancy with this image:

So while I really did want to be a Mum, I was super looking forward to get that baby out of there.   And based on my knowledge about myself I assumed I'd want to take that tiny amount of PPL time then promptly return to work.  I'd  leave my offspring in the hands of someone better equipped (someone ECE trained) to look after them than myself (someone with ZERO childcare experience).

What I didn't (and couldn't) know was that once that tiny human was out I wouldn't want to leave them.  Not after four months, and barely even at 12 months.  Not even with people I trusted.  I did return to part time work when Etta was 11 months old, but only because we needed the money and I was offered a job I knew I liked.  And while I did enjoy it, I swiftly realised there was NO WAY I could do it full time.  The few things I missed in those few hours away were too many.  And while my kids drive me totally nuts on a daily basis I also learn so much from them.  I just can't imagine being apart from them regularly for 8+ hours at a stretch.

Consequently, applying for a job post-partum has been terrifying.  I have other priorities now.  I feel like a fraud even sitting through job interviews.  Will I put my heart and soul into this position?  Truthfully, no.  Even if it were my dream job, it's just not possible.  This is why I've chosen to apply for simple, no brain needed part time jobs where I just have to turn up, do my work, and go.  I can't commit any more than that right now.

And while I'm about to return to work part-time and am kind of excited about a little more grown up time, I'm doing it for the family unit: things are tight.  Me working will mean less financial stress in the house, less pressure on Murray, more savings and more options for the kids.  Research also shows that daughters of working Mums are more likely to be 'successful' in their careers***.  These are the reasons I'm returning to work.  But I'd truly rather be at home.

3) That I'd no longer want to make art

And not just because I wanted to spend ALL of my spare time catching up on sleep.

When Etta was wee I occasionally had time and space and brain and would sit down to write poetry (usually with a publication/brief in mind for inspiration) and nothing happened.  Well, sometimes I'd write some words and then delete them.  Then write some more words and delete them.  All the words that flowed from my brain to the keyboard felt trite.  They still do.  Currently, poetry is dead to me.  At the end of last year I was actually invited to contribute some work to a publication.  This doesn't happen these days because I'm pretty out of the loop.  Nevertheless, it did.  I was flattered.  And still, I couldn't do it.  Every time I sat down with the intention of writing it just felt like it would be dishonest.

I can't put things out into the world I don't believe in.  And I know I sound like a jerk saying this but I feel as if nothing I can create now can compare with the little people that literally came out of my body.  I feel like perhaps like the writer feels who has published their 'great' novel - what can follow after? 

I have been able to follow through on some small art projects like the 30 Day Painting Challenge.  But I managed this by making it an activity which required little thought, was quite abstract, and still kidcentric.  I can knit blankets and toys, but I can't design complex articles.  I can 'draw', but not paint. I can write stuff like this, but not poetry.  I can't commit.

How can something like Attack of the Karate Devils (even if it's pretty fucking cool)...

I don't want to feel like this but I do.  I know that in part it'll be due to post pregnancy brain stuff and I am sure that one day it'll pass.  But it's hard.  I feel a huge sense of failure when other artists/writers/creative friends (of which I have many) as what I'm up to (creatively) and there's nothing.  And I can't explain this block in any way that makes me sound like I'm not:
a) a crazy Mum
b) an alien residing inside the shell of their former friend
c) a total arsehole.

Because saying 'I made some kids so now I don't want to make art' does sound like an arsehole thing to say.  I don't want to invalidate what my friends do.  Especially when, in fact, I greatly admire what they do.  In particular my friends who also have children but also maintain some sort of creative practice.  I'm sure I'm not the only person who's ever felt this way.  This concept was alluded to in Are You My Mother by Alison Bechdel which was a huge relief.  I'm not alone in this.  I think.

...ever compare with these two?

4) That I'd come to love The Mall

We live about a 25 minute walk from our local Westfield.  Which is about a 4 minute drive in 'regular' people terms.  Pre-kids I was not the biggest fan of malls.  I am a cheap bastard.  I shop at Pak 'n' Save, asian grocers and op shops and almost never buy anything not on sale.  I also studied design.  I love hand crafted unique items.  I love going to craft fairs and markets.  I agree we should all try and buy locally made.

But once I became a Mum I realised malls were actually some kind of haven:
- they are temperature controlled
- they are sheltered
- they are pram accessible
- they have playgrounds INSIDE them
- they have parents rooms (with MICROWAVES even)
- their toilets are pretty clean
- I don't have to clean anything there

Because I have long been an advocate for, and user of public transport I don't have a car during the day.  So if I wanted to get out of the house to remain sane with my baby my options to do so were fairly limited - particularly on days where the weather was especially hot or wet or changeable (Auckland).  But the bus stop is a three minute walk from our house.  And the mall is a five minute bus journey from that bus stop.  Consequently, I started frequenting the mall about once a week.

And I'm still a cheap bastard.  The thing about the mall is you don't have to buy stuff.  You can just hang out.  A regular mall trip with the kids involves the following 'fun' things:
- the bus trip there ($1.80 with Hop card.  SO MUCH FUN)
- running around Farmers laughing at the mannequins
- playing on the playground in the mall (free) OR
- playing in the parents room (also free)
- getting an icecream in a cup from McDonalds ($1.40 for two)
- picking up any random between-grocery-shops items we need from Countdown
- the bus trip home ($1.80 with Hop card. SLIGHTLY LESS FUN)
Total cost of a few hours out of the house to maintain/regain sanity = $5

And there's a 'Monty Morning' once a month which not only has people there who do some kind of activity with your kid but you also get a free coffee voucher!  And they have fun stuff to do during the school holidays for your kids - including decorating plant pots.  Both my basil and my chives came from a mall kid activity.  And guess what?  They were FREE.

Yes.  Malls are evil and mass marketing and consumer culture is bad and subliminal messaging and hurty lighting and I'm a slave to the machine and No Logo and stuff.

But who can pass up free air-con, shelter, playgrounds occasional childcare and coffee?
Not this cheap bastard that's for sure!

5) That I'd have a kid fixated on a mall mascot

Meet Monty.  He likes children, and holding masks of himself.

This is what happens when you give up your morals for free coffee.  Honestly, Monty The Monkey is my 3 year old's best friend.  He's like her imaginary friend only based on something real.  Well, something as real as a mall mascot.  They have some pretty amazing imaginary adventures - like that time he took her to the banana movie.  And Monty's always switching the words around in nursery rhymes.  He's such a laugh that Monty!  And he's easily accessible by pretend phone call on our (not plugged in) big old fashioned hand set.  Very handy!

Not only that, but 'real' Monty remembers her birthday every year (thanks to good database management), and even gets her a present (thanks to the business relationship between Westfield and Crayola)!  She can go visit him at the mall and ask him a bunch of random questions like: 'Where do you sleep at night time?' and 'Monty, do you have a penis?' (true story).  And he gives her furry cuddles and his minder gives her lollipops.  What's not to like?  Can totally see why ANY kid would love this mascot as much as she does.

Do I feel guilty because this is pretty much my fault?  Yes.  Will I deter her from this?  Nope.  She's happy.  It's understandable.  Free coffee.

*Surface read, not a proper read.  Obviously.

** By this stage I was over my SIDS paranoia - I just really suck at sleeping next to other humans.  Big or small.  I'm a very light sleeper.  And I need a sleep routine to get to sleep.  Every night.

*** Just so you know, these are not the markers I associate with success.  For me happiness equals success rather than money or status.  But if me working gives the girls confidence to strive for what they want generally, surely (I hope) that means a higher chance of happiness.  If not, at least they'll know women can go to work and men can look after children - cos that's what'll be happening while I'm working.  Dads are parents too ya'll!

On 'fancy' baking with kids.

I'm writing this by request from a friend after posting some photos on Facebook after Abby's 1st birthday party.  She wanted to know how I managed to make the party food while juggling two littluns.  So Ellen, this blog post is for you - the seven main reasons I can make a lovely party cake.

Etta helping Abby blow out the candles    
(she also helped make the cupcakes)

1) Experience
Potentially unknown Hannah-fact: I worked in a small town cafe from the age of 14 until I was 18.  And if you've ever worked in a small town retail anything you'll know it means there are just a few staff who do basically everything.  Small town retail survivors = jacks of all trades.  So not only was I paid (under the table) to run the till, wash dishes and provide service with a smile, but I also made the wares we sold in the cafe.

So from a young age I baked for pay.  The skills this gives someone are many, but the four that are most relevant to this particular post are:
- An ability to successfully bake on a schedule
- An ability to multitask
- An ability to transform kitchen mistakes into some other edible thing so your boss doesn't get mad about wasted time/ingredients
- Faith in your baking abilities

After years of managing to not screw up too badly I know that whipping up a simple cake or batch of biscuits is something I can do.  It's not hard for me because I've done it successfully many, many times before.  In fact, when I cut my weekend shifts back as a teenager to apply more time to studying (in 7th form) I missed that additional day of baking SO MUCH that extra study was seldom achieved as I would spend a good chunk of the extra day at home making marshmallow squares to compensate for not being at work.  Because I missed it.

2) The Love
Because I truly loved baking.  And still do.  I love its chemisty.  I love the creativity it inspires.  I love how you can appear to make something out of nothing.  I love the challenges it sets.  I love cake.

And I use that love of baking to show others I care.  I try really  hard to remember peoples likes and dislikes regarding food (although at the moment I muddle this a lot with my crap memory post concussion/babies).  I love being able to cater for friends and family with 'special' food requirements (thank you Gluten Free Grocer for those years of training in this area, and thank you Mum's family for having so many random food allergies).  I love having health through food knowledge to share.  I love that food can be medicine.**

And that love is a family thing.  I have so many good memories of helping my Mum and my Grandma in the kitchen when I was young.  For Mum, it was out of the necessity of living in isolated places on small budgets, but Grandma loves it in much the same way I do.  Both of these reasons have imbued in me a love for kitchen craft.  I remember the yeasty smell of fresh bread from the oven.  Mum letting me and my brother shape things out of 'our' bread dough to bake.  I remember the exciting job of putting the tuppence in the Christmas Pudding.  It's about the traditions, the sharing, the ability to contribute something special to your whanau.  I feel so lucky to have had these women share that with me.

Me 'helping' bake bread in my Grandma's kitchen

So if I make fancy party food, it's because I love the person the party is for.  And if I bring something nice to your party, it's because I care about you.***

3) Multitasking

I'm not too shabby a multitasker.  Granted, these skills have waned post children as my brain has become mush, but it's still there.  I think in the kitchen it works mostly because I feel confident in what I'm doing, and know when I can easily take my eye off the pot (so to speak) to do things with the children.

The other part of this is that because I'm confident in kitchen stuff I let the biggest kid help me out.  Yes, her helping is not especially helpful.  Yes, it impacts on how quickly stuff gets done.  But her not helping would be worse.  She is a pro at making herself heard.  So if I am ignoring her to do something else fun without her, the likelihood of a mega-meltdown is high.

And she loves helping bake!  It teaches her new skills and gives her a sense of achievement and independence.  I am sensible, and for my sanity limit her 'jobs' to things she can't mess up too badly (sifting, stirring, assisted cookie cutting and bowl 'cleaning') but it is enough to make her happy.  And it means (hopefully) that one day like me she will feel confident in the kitchen without having to even try.  It's an awesome gift to be able to pass on to her just as it was passed down to me.

    

So what do I do with the smaller one?  I'd love to say she's in some sort of hip sling device smiling away while her sister and I cook like some ad for successful AP's* but that's a lie.  I have hip problems and she's in the 97th percentile for weight - so I ain't gonna be doing that any time soon.
Which brings me to...

 

4) The Help
I am blessed with a Mum who comes down to help us out twice a week, Murray's parents who takes the big one to their place once a week, and a partner who takes his parenting responsibilities seriously (as all parents should).  This means that if I need/want to do some baking without 'help' from the littlies I organise it around the times I have help available.

And although Murray thinks I choose to do some crazy things in the kitchen, he realises it's a creative outlet for me, and takes over with the kids so I can get stuck in as required.  There are some things that are not safe for Etta to help with, or that are too fiddly for me to manage with her in the kitchen.  It's equally a good opportunity to have some fun one-on-one time with the kids.  He doesn't get a lot of time during the week to spend with the kids with going to work, and the commute to and from work.

I can bake nice things because I have the support to do so.  If it weren't for them there would be a lot less fudge in our lives, and that would be sad.

5) Planning
Hi.  I'm Hannah, and I have anxiety.  Just saying in case you've never read my blog before****.  So this means I plan a lot.  Some might say obsessively.  But it helps.

Here's an example:

A month before Abby's party I decided what I was going to make in terms of her birthday cake - which was a series of different animal cupcakes.  I then cruised Pinterest for 'inspiration' selecting only the simplest ideas.  Initially starting with 10ish ideas, I got realistic and whittled this down to 7, (which ended up as 6 on the day).  Two of these ideas were pre-tested for 'ease' before her birthday.

Two weeks before the party I made a list of the other foods I wanted to make.  I only chose foods that I had made before to ensure I wouldn't get too stressed.  I didn't have to make too much as I made it a bring-a-plate (rather than present) party.  I then made myself a little planner to work out the logistics and timing of when I would make what.  Once I'd decided on what cupcakes I was making I then made a list of the components I needed to decorate them and worked out an 'icing schedule' so I could just ice the parts requiring the same colour at the same time to cut down on washing my piping stuff and having to make new icing (ie: save time).

On the day of the party a few things had taken slightly longer than planned, so halfway through making some vegetable snails I ditched them as it was too late, they weren't necessary and I wasn't happy with the aesthetic.

 Animal biscuits (my Mum's recipe)

 Bumble bee mini cupcakes (so so easy!)

Basically, obsessive planning saves stress (and time) around baking for any big event.  Have you ever watched MKR?  Like me, when they say 'Well, I've never cooked a oak smoked partridge before, but I thought I'd give it a go' do you think what in heavens name is wrong with you?  It's a rookie mistake!  Just stick with what you know.  And if you want to make an oak smoked partridge, practice making one at home before you go on MKR.  Seriously people!  It's not rocket science.

6) Great Tools

Here are my essential time-savers for baking:

- A microwave (makes creaming butter and melting stuff quicker/easier)
- A small Pyrex measuring jug
- A middle sized glass bowl (about the right size for making a regular batch of biscuits)
- Decent measuring spoons and cups
- A decent knife
- Electric egg beaters (for creaming butter and sugar)
- A very simple piping set up with a variety of nozzles
- Oven trays that are FOR BAKING ONLY (ie: not bacon)
- Greaseproof paper (for lining things)
- Assorted sized silicon muffin pans
- A couple of good non-stick cake tins (the ones where the bottoms pop out)
- An array of simple biscuit cutters
- A Tupperware slice container (specifically for making fudge.  If you don't make fudge, it's not needed.  But you should make fudge.  Fudge is delicious)

7) I Seldom Do Fancy
I mostly use tried and true recipes and almost never make anything new if it's for people outside of my household or for a big event.  So it doesn't feel fancy.  I also don't really do fiddly.  I'm actually not that patient a person and often have to get things done quickly with the needs of the kidlets being paramount.  So mostly I just make something I've made a bazillion times before that I know will work, and then just put some pretty icing on it*****.

Very simple Panda cake - not fancy at all!

Occasionally I'll do something that may be deemed 'fancy' - I recently made some bits and bobs for a high tea including lavender scones with a nectarine, honey and thyme butter.  Sounds fancy, right?  Yep, but it's simple to make.  The scones are a pretty basic scone mix with finely chopped lavender in it (and you can buy culinary lavender if you want) and the butter was just a home-made butter which is simple to make (beat the crap out of cream until it separates, remove the whey, add some salt) with some bits from around the house added in in small quantities until it seems balanced.  If you can make scones, you can make lavender scones with nectarine, honey and thyme butter - trust me.

 My version of fancy (from the top) 

salted caramel chocolate mousse, lavender scones and feta and pumpkin mini quiches

And 'fancy' is a matter of perspective.  I see other people's triple layer cream filled super magic birthday cakes and am like damn - there's no way I could be bothered even attempting that!  I see people making profiteroles and donuts and think they're either completely mental, or some kind of kitchen God.  Honestly, I don't even make pastry if I can help it.  I'm not proper fancy.

Ok, to me this is a fancy cake.  And it's made by someone I know.

(Nicola Reynolds makes proper fancy cakes)

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So that's why I can do this baking despite having younguns.  What I mostly want to say to Ellen though is that we all have these skill areas.  One of mine is just baking - and it's more because it's something that is comfortable for me.  I am in awe of all Mummies who work more than a simple part time job.  I just don't have the brain for it.  I think you working Mummies are legends.  I genuinely don't think I could do it and not for smarmy 'love my kids' type reasons - for more basic reasons like 'I have no brain any more' and 'How do you survive day to day life without a nap?'  And what about sewing Mummies?  And run-your-own-business-from-home Mummies?******

Basically, all Mummies are legends.  If you're ever cruising Pinterest and feeling like a failure, just focus on those things you can do awesomely.  There will be some.  And if you're awesome at loving your kid(s) that's really the most important skill of all.

*Attachment Parents.  I'm not one, but equally I'm not not one.  I don't do parenting boxes.  I just do what works best for us and the kids.

** Yes, I consider chocolate and cheesecake medicinal.  What else would you recommend for heartbreak or sorrow?

*** If I don't please don't take it to mean I don't love you.  Usually it means I've been unrealistic about how much our family can do in one day/weekend or I'm just totally wiped out.  Or I forgot about the party.  Again, not because I don't love you, but because my memory is truly awful these days.  It's no joke.

**** I know this is unlikely.  I read my blog stats.  BUT, JUST in case some day someone I don't know reads this for the first time...

***** And remember that cafe work in high school?  That jack-of-all-trades thing?  Part of that included icing birthday cakes with 'Happy Birthday' messages on them.  So simple piping is not that hard for me.

****** And play producing Mummies, and go-to-the-gym-three-times-or-more-a-week Mummies, and getting-an-education Mummies, and Porse Mummies, and still-maintaining-an-art-practice Mummies, and blogs-at-least-once-a-week Mummies, and healthy-food-making Mummies, and sing-in-a-band Mummies, and is-still-an-amazing-friend Mummies, and still-wants-to-be-intimate-with-and-not-kill-your-partner Mummies, and maintaining-a-clean-house Mummies.  We all got skills. Trust me.

On Growing Our Own

We have a garden.

This is some of it - courgettes growing in our old bath tub!

We don't have an all-encompassing-survive-off-the-land style garden, but we have a garden that grows vegetables that we eat, and herbs that make cooking exciting (and delicious).  This may sound like a mundane thing.  But it feels pretty magical.

I grew up for the most part in the country.  Having a garden was pretty bog standard in that country lifestyle, along with many other things that helped our family to be fairly self-sufficient in terms of food*.  My parents taught us how to grow plants, and encouraged us to do so - giving us our own little patch in the big garden to grow what we wanted.  But I soon gave up on my piddly little radishes.  The whole enterprise was just not exciting enough.  Nothing seemed to happen fast enough, and I was never the most patient child.

And big me was much the same.  The few times a poor plant was foisted on me from well meaning friends and relatives it didn't take much before it perished.  I just figured I had a 'brown thumb' - plants were just not for me.  This wasn't helped by the fact that I've always hated the feel of dirt on my hands** and was perpetuated by living in flats - where starting a garden always seemed an exercise in futility when you moved as often as I did through my early 20's.  I only lived in one flat that had a garden, and when it was my turn to 'tend' it (we had a roster, so I had to do it once a month) I'd kinda just phone it in (sorry Mindy, Miriam and Steph, I did feed the turtles though)...

But in our flat in Pt Chev we had a little success with a small vege patch which had been put in by my gung-ho husband.  Because it wasn't mine, I didn't care about it.  But then, stuff started to grow in it.  And then I had a little interest in it.  And then I was home more than Murray was so it made sense that I looked after it.  And then it was pretty much my patch.  In that garden we managed to grow rhubarb and kale (two very hardy crops).  Which is not really a lot.  But to me it felt like a success as:
a) We'd grown something that didn't die
b) We'd grown things we could actually eat in our own back yard.

Once we bought our house here in Sunnyvale, we decided all bets were off.  Whilst the inside of our house remained as is until recently, I started remodeling our gardens as soon as we got here.  I got rid of the flax and lilies (and cockroaches) to make way for herb gardens.  And Murray, with help from his Dad, put in some raised beds along the sunniest fence line for veges.  We were all set to get stuck in and 'grow our own'.

But with unexpected surgery followed immediately by pregnancy, then more surgery, then a baby then another (unexpected) pregnancy and baby we've struggled to put in as much energy as we'd have liked.  Nevertheless, doing little bits here and there over the past 3 1/2 years has started to pay off.

When we arrived there was an orange tree.  Now our property boasts a nectarine, a pear, a mini-feijoa, guavas and a pomegranate tree.  The trees were gifts besides the feijoa which we planted over Etta's whenua***, the guavas which were 'rehomed' from the bach and the macadamias that were 'rehomed' from that-spot-up-the-road.  While these are not all fruiting (yet) we enjoyed our first pear and nectarine bounty this past Summer.  And Etta's tree has its first few feijoas poised in readiness for picking some time in the next month.

In fact, I was recently curious as to how many edibles our small section homed so I counted them.  At last count it was 30 different herbs, plants and trees**** (including lavender, aloe-vera and puha - all of which are edible).  All of which, bar the orange tree, we have planted ourselves.

So how has my thumb slowly changed from brown to green you ask?  The truth is it hasn't.  My basic principle when it comes to gardening is if it doesn't work, try something else.  We have planted a great many things that have not survived: carrots, broccoli, beetroot have all succumbed in our garden (mostly due to diligent, evil cats).  And my first attempt at growing stuff in the greenhouse was thwarted by my inability to remember to actually water the plants.  So everything that grows well at our place either does so because it's hardy or it's interesting enough for me to pay attention to it.  I recently set an alarm for watering in the greenhouse that goes off every morning so I can't forget to water in there (hopefully I will build a habit and remember on my own).  This is the only reason anything is alive in there besides slugs, snails and skinks.

Another basic principle I have is that, like painting, gardens need a decent primer.  So starting out with decent soil means right off the bat you are more likely to succeed.  Putting in raised beds really helped with that.  It meant regardless on the soil quality at our house, we could (almost immediately) plant a successful garden.  Composting our food and plant waste helps feed and maintain the health of our garden.  And throwing our coffee grinds into the mix doesn't hurt it either (and helps justify Murray's weekend coffee benders).

We're not big on chemicals and pesticides (and I'm a tight-arse) so we try to manage disease and bugs through organic fixes like home made sprays, companion planting and plant rotation - none of which are difficult things to do after a little practice at which solutions work for you and your garden.

And now, after our first bumper Summer harvest, I'm totally in love with it.  I even decided to make up an annual planner for our section so that we can eat more from our garden year round:

While I initially started gardening entirely for practical reasons, of late I have started growing more plants that just make me happy.  Artichokes are edible, but they are also flower into the most glorious bee traps.  Pattypan squash are called pattypan squash!  Not only do they have the cutest name in the world, but they have to be one of the prettiest vegetables out!  Cape gooseberries remind me of picking them as a child at the house of a friend of the family and peeling off the papers for a tart treat.  There is such magic and colour and life in a garden.  I'm only just discovering this now.

The most beautiful artichoke flower with bees

Cape gooseberry in its cage

Parsley seed stars

Baby Patty pan squash

Etta with one of our favorite garden pals

 A small haul of cherry tomatoes

And the best part of all of this is I get to share this with my family.  In the meals I make, and the learning and play outside in and among that vibrant colour and life.  And not just our kids, but with our broader family and community.  It's an opportunity for me to share resources with those in need.  An opportunity to share plants when our gardens runneth over in reseeded babies.  An opportunity to feel pride and joy in the simplest thing.  And it's all in our own back yard.

* chickens for eggs, fishing (for fish), fruit trees - contained and wild, going mushrooming, berry picking, hunting for deer and pigs, working for payment in 'half a beast' (half of a butchered cow - which kept a family in meat for a long time).

** And flour and clay.  I just don't like it.  I can't really explain it but it makes me feel pretty icky.  If I make you scones or gingerbread just know I must really care about you cos I have to breadcrumb the butter into the flour which means touching the flour which is horrid.  And I can actually throw clay - it's something I can naturally do.  But I really can't cope with the feeling of the clay on my hands, so I gave up on ceramics (yes yes, I'm a weirdo.  Whatever).

*** Abby had a tree too.  A mandarin tree.  But Murray accidentally mowed over it... Come Spring she will have a new tree - one of the Macadamia's currently thriving in our greenhouse.  Which will be housed in something bright to deter from any future mowing...

**** dill, rosemary, borage, thyme (x2) oregano, basil (2), fennel, nasturtium, parsley (x2), mint, courgette (x2), silverbeet, kale, spinach, tomatoes, potatoes, artichoke, strawberries, gooseberries, rhubarb, orange, pear, mini feijoa, nectarine, pomegranate, guava, macadamia, aloe vera, lavender (x2), puha

On Gender Neutral Parenting (again)

 Because this is how advertising for Lego has changed over 40 years...
 

I've talked about this a bit before in this post from last year and this one.  And I'm going to talk about it again because it's important, and becomes more obviously so the bigger the kidlets get. (And three posts about something important to me over three years isn't really too much, is it?)

The first thing I need to say about our choice in parenting is that it is not about us as parents.  It's about our kids.  I do not do this to feel 'special*' or 'unique' or 'on trend' - I do this because I think it is the best way to grow happy children.

And why will choosing to parent this way make them happy?  Because it allows us to support them in doing whatever pursuits they enjoy most.  We are trying to create a safe environment for them to learn and grow in where they feel comfortable being true to themselves.  If instead we create an environment where we expect that a girl does X thing and a boy does Y thing, if a girl happens to like doing Y thing (or vice-versa) there is a high chance they will end up feeling guilty or uncomfortable about it.  And that's not something we want our kids to feel.

We don't want our kids to grow up thinking it's not ok for boys to cry or for girls to speak their mind.  We don't want them to grow up feeling that they are inferior in any way because of their gender, or that others are.  We don't want gender to impede on their interests and progress.  Instead, we want to encourage all feelings, all interests and all learning we possibly can.

But it's a fact: boys-prefer-cars-and-girls-prefer-dolls you say?  Most studies show this is only true when it is reinforced that boys should play with 'boys toys' and vice versa for girls.  So what I'm saying is that boys prefer to play with 'boys toys' because they are encouraged to do so.  Children pick up on our tone of voice, body language and the type of language we use.  Even if we don't actively say 'play with the boy toy' if we indicate we have a preference for what toys they play with (and how they play with them) they will do their best to please us.  Children display a preference to certain 'gendered' toys when they are rewarded for doing so.  This may be by the smile of a parent or other adult, or because of the responses of their peers.  Which is why often childrens colour preferences change once they start going to kindy, daycare or school as they interact with more people.  It's not because girls are innately attracted to the colour pink.

So if we do our best not to show a preference for what our children play with, or how they play we allow them to learn a wider range of skills than if we only showed a preference for certain toys.  They may prefer playing with dolls to cars, but if they want to play with cars that's ok too.  This is important because children learn through play.  We ensure they have a wide array of things to play with to encourage learning a wide range of skills.

But-it's-pointless-cos-girls-and-boys-are-innately-different you say?  Science (for the most part) says  you're wrong.  There are very few differences between boys and girls.  Most gendered brain theories (which have been latched onto by the media resulting in all kinds of craziness) are based on very small scale studies (the MRI brain activity ones being as small as 16 adults) and are in the minority of neurological gender studies.  And neurological studies on adults are not helpful in proving innate differences between male and female humans anyway because our experiences in life affect our neural pathways.  So there is no telling whether the differences in adult brains are due to biology or experience.  And because we live in such a strongly gendered society, our experiences as men and women differ greatly.  The reason we only hear about the ones which show a difference between boys and girls (or men and women) is because it's more newsworthy than the greater quantity of studies which show little to no difference whatsoever.  So all that boys-are-better-at-spacial stuff and girls-are-better-with-language stuff is bunkum.**

So do I get upset when strangers misgender my kids?  No.  It's irrelevant.  I don't even correct them most of the time.  I purposefully dress my kids gender neutral*** to avoid incurring strongly gendered language from strangers (because strangers love to talk to parents with small children about the gender traits of their child because it's the only information they have to talk about).  Babies look like babies - how could they possibly know that Abby's a girl?   Gender is not the most important aspect of a person - it's just an aspect of a person.

Living in a society that creates a dichotomy around gender is unhealthy.  This is evidenced in our rape culture, our domestic violence rates, our hard man culture and our crazy high male suicide rates.  How do I fight this for the future generation?  By doing my best to change the current culture.  And change begins at home.  Yes, our kids will pick this dichotomy up from the media, their friends, their family etc.  No, I won't hide them under a rock and make them crazy hermit people (that's just as messed up as thigh gap****).  But what I can do is set up a strong foundation for them to understand that (for the most part) gender is a social construct and they are capable of doing many things regardless of their gender.

 Because not only is this dichotomy unhealthy for men and women, but it doesn't take into account everyone in between.  While intersex folk make up only 0.05% of the NZ population, that's still over 200,000 people in New Zealand who are not represented here.  How do you think this makes them feel?  How would you feel if because of this dichotomy you were basically treated as a non person?  If we focus less on putting folk into gender boxes, and more on other things, the world might start to be kinder to our trans communities (who top the charts in depression, addiction and suicide rates) who's only crime is trying to be themselves.  If gender wasn't deemed such a black and white thing, maybe people wouldn't get so het up about people's choices regarding their gender/gender expressions?

I want my kids to be happy in themselves whoever that self may be.  That means if they want to play drums - all good.  If they want to play board-games - all good.  If they want to play netball or rugby or pursue dancing or design or dirt bike racing - all good.  I just want them to feel free to participate in life to the fullest.  It means encouraging diverse learning so they are able to explore a wide range of activities and feel confident doing so.  So if they want a Star Wars birthday party they can have a Star Wars birthday party.  It's at the peak of the zeitgeist right now.  It's not that weird.

 Because why wouldn't anyone love Darth Vader?  Just look at that face.

*         *          *           *         *          *           *         *          *           *         *          *          

So, what can you do to help us parent our kids this way/parent your kids this way?

1) Read Parenting Beyond Pink & Blue: How To Raise Your Kids Free of Gender Stereotypes by Christia Spears Brown.  I have read a LOT of books on this topic, but this is the best.  Least extreme, well researched and most realistic in terms of actual parenting.  Seriously, it's a good, easy read (I read it in under a week with baby brain) and sums up most things I could possibly say regarding gender, feminism and parenting.  You can request it from the library.  It's totally accessible.  And if you would prefer reading something written by a Kiwi read Fathers Raising Daughters by Nigel Latta.  Not actually for Dad's specifically.  Or about daughters specifically.  Great no nonsense ideas for everyone.

2) If books are too hard (and I totally understand this) here are some practical things you can do to help:

- If you still don't understand - ask us questions.  Please.  We are happy to answer them.  We want you to understand, not to feel confused and upset and just generally think we're jerks.  We're not trying to be jerks.  We don't want to be jerks.  Lets start a dialogue.

- Try not to make a deal of gender around the kids.  No 'boys will be boys' or 'that's not very ladylike' talk.  And if you catch yourself doing it (cos it is hard to stop, it's culturally ingrained) just say 'Oops!  What I meant to say was ....'  No-one's perfect (including us).

- Don't make a deal over what the kids are wearing or playing with.  Regardless of if it's a dress or a doll or a truck or a potato.  Don't make it a thing - they're just kids being kids.  Get on board with whatever they're doing/playing and have fun!

- Try to avoid stereotyping - of any kind - about anyone.  Kids are malleable.  They take that stuff on board and it feeds into the gender dichotomy.  If you say 'all boys are penguins' they could take you at your word.  Just saying.  Not helpful.  And not true.

- Re: gifts.  Anything we deem inappropriate (strongly gender biased/pinkpinkpink/promoting negative body image) will 'disappear'.  Please don't take offense, we are just trying to be good parents to our kids.  There are heaps of toys and clothes that are appropriate.  There are 'experience' gifts (Groupons, zoo passes etc).  Or educational stuff.  Or instruments.  Or craft/building stuff.  Or books.  Or ask us what the kids are into.  Or better yet - just come hang out.  We have enough things.

- Please don't make negative comments about peoples gender preference or sexuality.  Kids can hear you, even when you're not talking to them directly.  And what they don't understand, they will interpret for themselves.

There are a heap more, but that's enough writing for today...

Basically, all we're trying to do is not limit our kids potential - and you can help us by not imposing limits on them either.  Think about what limits were (or weren't for those with progressive parents) imposed on you as a child.  How would your life be different if they hadn't (or had) been?  This is all we want for our kids.

* I am pointing this out because certain people close to us/our children seem to have latched onto this notion.  It's just not true.  And pointing this out to us, and to them, and to strangers is totally unhelpful.  I wish we weren't going against the grain.  I wish this were the status quo.  I feel like it's crazy that we live in an environment that is still so pervasively sexist so many years after the 'feminist revolution'.  Pointing this point of difference out in front of our kids undermines the entire reason for us doing this - to make them feel comfortable being who they are.  If it is made a focal point it will become a 'thing', rather than just something normal, which is the goal.

** Read Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine for more info on this.

*** Etta chooses her own clothes these days which arrive via hand-me-downs and things she helps us choose for her.  Her favorite colour is still yellow and she tends to choose clothing items based on what's on them rather than their colour.  Her favorite shoes are black and purple and light up when she jumps.  Her wardrobe is an assorted rainbow of things as we have no bans on colours and shop across boy/girl sections based on what she prefers (cos dinosaurs and monsters and penguins and pink and blue things are for everyone).  Now she is walking confidently there are dresses in there too, which she has just started feel comfortable wearing as more every-day wear, but she is generally most happy wearing just a nappy, or nothing at all (which is totally fine with us.  When else do you get to be nakey whenever you like?  It's one of the perks of being a kid as far as I'm concerned) .

**** Check out #5: Men think it's Super Hot.  What men?  When?  I have heard many men utter an array of sexual things at women, but never have I ever heard them yell 'Damn girl, your thigh gap is bangin!'  And even if they did, why should we change our bodies to cater for men?  They're our bodies!  They're for us.  All round crazy.