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.
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.
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
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!
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!
