The Valentine's Grinch

Entered in The Romance Writers New Zealand (Nelson Branch) Valentines Day Romantic Short Story Competition 2005.
Even the cynical need love. And you never know where you might find it.
"A strongly plot-driven tale, well suited to a competition such as this - it just missed the cut."

It seems unlikely that Brad Pitt is going to come knocking on her door anytime soon. So Tania thinks of calling in sick. Better than going into work to be faced with the gleeful faces of her female co-workers who had been swamped with a dozen red roses, ridiculous-looking soft toys emblazoned with hearts and acres of chocolate littering their desks.

Tania creeps into work. She hides beneath the Valentine Day paraphernalia that oozes unsubtly from Debbie's desk. Tania is pretty. Bright. Funny. So why did a rose or a goofy toy on Valentines Day have to validate this? She bought chocolate for herself every day. She didn't need some fantasy man to buy it for her.

"SO, who has an admirer THIS year?!" Debbie holds a single red rose. "Let me see" Tania snatches the red rose, feeling all eyes on her.

A card falls out. Debbie's eyebrow goes up. Tania swivels around in her chair and slowly opens the card. "Happy Valentines Day from a secret admirer." Great - so who the hell IS her secret admirer? No-one here I hope she thinks. But she scans the room just in case. Most were off the market. She cannot imagine Bernard The IT Guy wooing anything beside his computer. Jason The Office Flirt? Not likely since she hadn't fallen for any of his one-liners. Unless? Accountant Guy. Oh I hope not she cringes. Too friendly. Too keen. But in reality who else would it be from?

This had to be worse than NOTHING coming her way. At least she didn't have to be plagued with scenarios of ways in which she could avoid Accountant Guy all day - and eventually fob him off.

At five o'clock a scurry of women exit with their Valentines goodies. The annual cry from Debbie. "Not sure I can carry ALL this to the car…" And the annual response - every man in the office clambering to get to her desk like she was the last beer in the fridge on a hot summers day.

"You need a hand with your rose?" She was about to swipe back at the hurtful comment. It's Accountant Guy.
"Do you know why I admire you?" he says. She shakes her head, blushing. "For being who you are - you don't try to be anything you're not".
"Th-anks" she says "…for the rose - it's beautiful." "Not as beautiful as you." How corny - yet how sweet.
"I'm Derek" he stretches out a strong, brown hand. And beneath those glasses is a sweet, wholesome yet kind face.
"Tania" she says, her hand shaking his. He nods I know.
"See you later then." And he's gone.

And then she realises that this could be something worth pursuing. She gathers up her handbag and the rose and rushes after Derek. "Do you want to do coffee?" she says, suddenly nervous. He smiles yes. Perhaps Valentines Day wasn't such a bad tradition after all, she smiles to herself. Who knew where this could go.

This is Amelia

Published in Sleepy-Hollow Stirs - an anthology of Nelson Writers for 2005. Edited by Mike Lipscombe.
An insight into a birthing experience with no gory bits!

20 March 2005, Sunday 10pmish
The blonde midwife stood silently shaking her head. Her bob neat, her eyes telling all. Her lined brown hands trembled as she took in what the machine was telling her. Clearly, things weren't good. My baby's heartbeat was high and she wasn't moving much. Seconds passed.

Was she going to say something?

I cleared my throat. "So this isn't good then?"

Well…?

Blondie couldn't look at me. "I'll get someone else."
She dashed out. I waited in anticipation. All was quiet on the maternity ward at Nelson Hospital. Eerily so. My obstetrician arrived on the scene and confirmed what I knew deep down had to be coming.
"We're going to have to get this baby out." And she flurried off after a few brief pokes and prods. I lay there frozen.

"Um - can I ring my husband?"
But the one portable phone in the ward wasn't working. Blondie was frazzled - but not apologetic. There wasn't time for this nonsense.
For the love of…
"Don't worry, I'll use my mobile."
I phoned my husband up, a tear sliding down my cheek.
"She's coming tonight." I managed to splutter out.The next bit happened fast.

A couple of the medical staff helped dress me in a checked hospital gown. It was shaped like a sack. My underwear was removed. My dignity was going the window fast. I wondered how much of this my roomie was taking in. Only a thin curtain separated us. This was unfolding just inches away from her.
I was wheeled to the delivery room to be prepped for theatre. I had a little cry - out of fear but also relief. Finally they were going to work out what was wrong and my baby was coming!

In the delivery room a team of medical staff buzzed around me. There was no time for introductions. I felt like I was on the Shortland Street set - although a slightly less glamorous version. Dr Warner was nowhere to be seen. Someone was shaving "down there" where they were going to make the bikini-line incision, a drip was put into my arm and other things were going on that I just couldn't take in. I met the asethesist - tall and tanned. Oh yeah - and fairly cute. Oh god - now what exactly was he going to see?

My husband appeared amongst the organized chaos. I was just one of a series of c-sections performed in Nelson hospital yet for me it was all frighteningly new.

As I was wheeled to theatre my husband walked beside me. He was strong and reassuring. He'd been asleep when I'd called and had hastily dressed to come to the hospital. He'd grabbed a T-shirt off the floor from his side of the bed. It was inside out. The asethesist was with us and had forgotten the code on the door. Another medical staff member didn't know it and so one of them ran off to find out. Crikey, this was an emergency situation and they didn't know the code on the door?! Hubby and I shared a bit of a laugh about that - at least it lightened the situation a little.

Once in theatre I had to get off the bed and on to the operating table.
They can't expect me to move when I'm in this much pain. Oh - they do…
Geeeeeez! Holy mother of…
I sat upright cowering forward in pain.
The asethesist was getting the epidural ready. He explained the procedure to me. Thank goodness it was inserted in my lower back so I didn't see it, as I hate needles. I was embarrassed slightly sitting there in the shapeless checked gown with my back exposed. I wasn't sure what the asethesist could see or what exactly was going to be exposed once I was on the operating table. I was warned that if the epidural didn't kick in fast enough that I would have to have a general. I lay down on the operating table and was covered with a material that resembled a horse blanket with my lower stomach region exposed. Then I was basted like a chicken with iodine.

The prick test was done and I was asked if I could feel anything. I could on my right side. A general was the go.
Oh God. Now I'm really scared. What if I don't wake up? Is this the end? And our baby...?

I asked my husband to pray for me. He held my hand. It was the closest to death I've ever been yet there wasn't much time to even take that in. Now I felt like I was on an episode of ER. The mask was put over my face and just like in the movies - everything went black.

21 March 2005, after midnight
When I woke up my husband was holding our daughter tightly in his arms. She was polished and perfect and unlike the images of newborns I'd seen where they were covered in gunk and blood. It was explained to me that an ovary was removed, as it was "torted and blackened." The only explanation given for why it happened was "bad luck".
My husband handed this angelic-looking baby to me whose birth I hadn't witnessed and said…
"This is Amelia."

In Case Of Emergency

Weekend, The Nelson Mail 15 October 2005
Recent tragic disasters in the news are a reminder of how sudden and unexpected such events can occur - and the necessity to be prepared.

Most of us have the mandatory matches, candles and torch hidden in the bottom drawer in the kitchen somewhere. But what if a natural disaster on the scale of Hurricane Katrina or the Pakistan earthquake should hit?How prepared are we? What exactly should be in an Emergency Survival Kit? Does your family have a meeting place and a contingency plan should an emergency situation occur? These are the kinds of questions that need to be addressed in order to prepare for a natural disaster.

For the last couple of years New Zealand Disaster Reduction Week has been coinciding with UN International Disaster Reduction Day. The key message for Disaster Reduction Week 2005 (October 9-15) that the Ministry of Civil Defence and Emergency Management (MCDEM) would like to come across of preparedness. It's about creating and encouraging resilient communities.

The disaster most likely to occur in Nelson is a flood. Flooding is at the top of the list as far as declared civil defence emergencies in New Zealand go.

Scientists believe that within the next 20 years a major earthquake will occur on the South Island Alpine Fault. Meanwhile other significant natural disasters include snow, wind, landslide, coastal erosion, storm surge and tsunami.

Sarah Holland, the emergency management officer for Civil Defence in the Nelson region, says households need to look closely at their own immediate area. Rural areas should be prepared for a wildfire, for instance.When disaster hits, people and communities are vulnerable not only to its destructive force but also lifeline utilities such as power, water, sewerage, communications and transport systems.

Threats of international terrorism, and the potential release of hazardous substances or organisms means we have a range of natural and manmade hazards that could impact us significantly. Holland stresses that while Civil Defence is here to help, in a disaster the immediate aftermath would undoubtedly mean that resources would be concentrated on restoring essential services. For this reason people should have an emergency survival kit, as they could well face being on their own for a few days.

Holland is concerned that the average Nelson household and business is not prepared for a disaster. It's a case of all talk and often no action.People have to realise, she says, that the days are gone of Civil Defence immediately coming to the rescue."There aren't going to be any knights in shining armour. People need to be prepared." says Holland.

So where should you start?

You can download your household emergency checklist, and household emergency plan, from the Ministry of Civil Defence emergency management web site http://www.civildefence.govt.nz. The front of the yellow pages is also a useful resource.

If you prefer to keep your Emergency Survival Kit items in the house for everyday use, make sure you know where to find them when an emergency occurs.

Your Kit should contain:
* Canned or dried food
* A can opener
* A primus or BBQ to cook on
* Bottled water (3 litres per person per day)
* Check and renew the food and water every 12 months.

Emergency Items
* First Aid Kit and essential medicines
* Spare toilet paper and plastic rubbish bags for your emergency toilet
* Pet supplies
* Waterproof torches and spare batteries
* Radio and spare batteries (check the batteries every three months)

Emergency Clothing
* Wind proof and rainproof
* Sun hats
* Blankets or sleeping bags
* Strong shoes for outdoors
* Supplies for Babies and Small Children
* Food and drink
* Change of clothing
* Favourite toy or activity
* Special Supplies for Those with Disabilities
* Hearing aids
* Mobility aids
* Glasses

Three days of supplies takes a bit of organising and involves some expense.

Holland suggests starting with water. Wash out and then fill up old juice or fizzy drink bottles. If you fill bottles to the brim and store them in a dark place they will keep for 12 months. Holland advises against using old milk bottles.

A sample list of food you would need includes cereal for breakfasts, soup, noodles, tinned tuna or corned beef for lunches, tinned stew or baked beans and tinned fruit for dinner, and muesli bars, peanuts, crackers and chocolate for snacks.

A torch with a spare battery is crucial. Holland recommends that people use chemical lightsticks rather than candles, as they are much safer. Another highly recommended item is a battery-powered radio, with spare batteries in order to keep informed. Holland says you could use a car radio.

KIT HINTS
Some hints about your Disaster Survival Kit
*Put all items, especially the blankets and clothing into plastic bags (leak proof) to keep them dry.
*Keep the Disaster Survival Kit in a place which will be easily accessible in an emergency.
*Make sure everyone in the house can find it in the dark.
*Make someone responsible for checking (and renewing) the food and water every 12 months.

Service With A Grimace, the Nelson Way

Voices, The Nelson Mail, 7 January 2006
Whatever happened to service with a smile?

Nelson gets a hard rap for its customer service. Residents are expected to put up with inferior service because in line with the sunshine hours pay rates way of thinking, you get the feeling that you shouldn't complain when service isn't up to par.

When I asked where my cutlery might be on one occasion, I was given the brush-off, so typical in this town. “It's over there” replies the oh-so casual waiter, clearly far too busy to make an exception to the fetch-yer-own-cutlery policy. Dining alongside breathtaking scenery the fact that you weren't given a fork and a knife with your lunch SHOULD be overlooked, sweetheart. Just get out of your chair and get it yourself.Of course Nelson isn't the only place with bad service.

Recently in Tauranga a friend and I ordered a couple of milkshakes at a café. Hers deviated from the one on the menu - mine was exactly the same. “It would be easier if you had the same milkshakes.” said the I'd-rather-be-somewhere-else waitress. Right. I contemplated that for a second. So I pay $4.50 to have a drink I didn't really want? No way! I delivered my decision back to the waitress. Within minutes she was back with our two differing milkshakes. So what was so hard about that again? Perhaps she should have just said “Actually I can't be arsed making TWO milkshakes. I want to go home and get drunk instead.” Because that is often what lies beneath bad service is it not? The distinct impression that this person serving you would rather be somewhere else.

The woman in the department store in the middle of a gossip session with her colleagues. The dairy owner on the phone who continues to serve you without making eye contact. The taxi driver who drives in total grumpy silence as you sit in the back of the taxi watching your fare escalate. The bar tender who treats you as if you're not good enough for HIS bar. The service desk employee who sighs down the phone as you ask what is obviously a stupid question - for the umpteenth time that day.

I've been on the other side. As a waitress I was hardly known for my silver service techniques. A natural klutz, I was typically hung over, tired, PMSing, in love, out of love, on a sugar high, or on a sugar low. Behind the bar I sometimes mixed up people's drink orders. Telemarketing I worked so hard at “smiling down the phone” my face just about ached by the end of my shift. I too often daydreamed about better days.

I've served grumpy, impatient, unreasonable and just plain rude customers. Some deserved a good slap across the face. Yet I was taught that the customer always comes first. No matter how annoying they are.

It's no picnic working in the service industry. But what happened to service with a smile? These days it's often more like service with a grimace. Of course there is good service out there. But it is a rarity to find the kind of service where you feel valued, that comes with an in built feel-good factor - and has you coming back for more. Smile like you mean it. You never know - one day you might.

Demystifying Childbirth For The Uninitiated

Voices, The Nelson Mail , 17 September 2005
The scary, unknown territory of childbirth that awaits the mum-to-be.

As a first time mum impending childbirth came with a huge question mark. A few months off from my due date I was asked "Has anyone ever told you that it hurts like hell?" Um, yes, I had grasped that much - thanks…

Women birthing on screen tend to pant for a few minutes on a hospital bed, push once and go a bit red. Next the baby slides effortlessly into the doctor's arms. After a few WAAAHS! a somewhat disheveled mum rocks her newborn in her arms, with the obligatory tear in her eye.

In contrast my antenatal class showed videos of women writhing in pain, omitting scary animal-like sounds, and clinging to their support person with clenched fists. Parts of the female anatomy were without a doubt stretched to full capacity. Ouch. It did look like it hurt. A LOT.

With such varying portrayals of childbirth I remained somewhat confused and nervous as to what was ahead for me.

I discovered that mums fell into three categories as far as disclosing their birth experiences went:
1. The Spare No Detail Type - they were bursting at the seams with their labouring tales, sharing frightfully gory details.
2. The I Daren't Speak Up Type - their mouths remained tightly zipped like they daren't utter a word JUST in case the awful truth spilled out.
3. The I'll Just Tell You The Good Bits Type - they shared the warm fuzzy aspects only. The thoughtfully edited version, it was a safe refuge for this mum-to-be.

And just when I'd thought I'd heard it all someone would come out with one of those friend-of-a-friends birth stories that had been exaggerated several times - I hoped.
I read up about the pain relief options. I went to antenatal yoga classes, swam lengths and walked everyday. I even witnessed a friend's drug-free home birth.

Turns out my baby's life was at risk when it was decided I should have an emergency c-section. My baby girl did arrive safely into the world and I remain eternally grateful to all the medical staff who saved the day as such. No amount of preempting can prepare you for the unknown.

Despite how natural and frequent childbirth actually is, it still remains somewhat of a mystery. The birth you expected you'd have (even if you thought you had no expectations - you have them - no matter how small they are), is not the birth you will have. Childbirth rocked my world in more ways than I could have ever imagined. It is the aftermath of childbirth that is often not discussed. Women aren't prepared for the emotional collapse that commonly follows childbirth.
I now understand why women tend to vary so much as far as sharing their accounts of childbirth goes. For some perhaps they never got the chance to debrief after their birthing experience and so talking about it at any given opportunity years down the track is a form of healing. Those who hold their experience close to their hearts may still be dealing with it quietly, in their own way. And the ones who attempt to be PC about it all perhaps don't want to scare mums-to-be from what is one of the most amazing experiences of a woman's life - even if it doesn't go as planned.

Size Doesn't Matter (When You're Up The Duff)

Voices, The Nelson Mail, 8 January 2005
The unsolicited comments that can be fired at the vulnerable pregnant woman exposed.

It is a strange yet wondrous time being pregnant. For the first few months I got to treasure the miracle of a life growing inside me privately because I wasn't showing yet.

Fast forward to six months, and three weeks. My doctor warned me. "When you start showing you will become public property". Too right she was. The world has their eyes on you as you waddle past, with that titled walk that only those "showing" share. Apparently `'just looking" isn't a concept for those on the outer, witnessing the pregnant woman's changing shape.

Sure there are compliments. Some women DO glow and look radiant. But a lot of pregnant women are tired and cranky and uncomfortable - somehow the glow gets lost amongst all that. It seems the next best place to focus on is her shape. Now people - tread carefully here. Remember emotionally a pregnant women is experiencing a state that is not dissimilar to permanent PMS. And you are dealing with WOMEN. Those creatures who whether they care to be honest about it or not have at some point in their lives worried about their figure. So when a woman is pregnant and suffering in this permanent state of PMS - would you, REALLY, think it was wise to comment on this woman's shape? There are a number of no-no comments and actions that the average pregnant woman may find unamusing or even unoriginal. 1."You're huge/big"
2."You've grown since I last saw you"
3."Are you expecting twins?"
4."Are you sure you got your due date right?"
5." You could never tell that such and such was pregnant when SHE was six months."
6."Mimicking a pregnant women waddling
7."Exaggerating how much space is needed for her to get by
8."Patting the bump like it's your pet dog

Number 5 is my favourite. Note - EVERYONE knows some size 8 whippet who barely showed in her pregnancy. So you will get compared to her. Whether you are a curvey size 12 like myself or just simply shaped in your own unique way.

No two pregnant women are the same. Just as we are shaped differently before we are pregnant it doesn't change WHEN pregnant. Why would I suddenly get the figure of Claudia Schiffer when pregnant?! I was curvey to begin with so of course when with child, I will remain curvey!

For the most part I am embracing my ever-changing shape. I LOVE that no two pregnant women look alike. I go to antenatal yoga classes and looking around, I can see the pregnant glow - the beauty in every woman in the class. It is only in these classes that I can forget my own shape as we focus on our yoga moves. Suddenly the pregnant shape becomes irrelevant.

As pregnant women though it has to be remembered that most people are trying to come from a good place with their well-meaning comments and actions. Perhaps they think we like to focus on the fact that we are pregnant as pointing out our changing shape may be the only way they know how to connect with us. So I try to take it with a grain of salt. And I will continue to bite my own tongue around any pregnant women that I know…

Everything But The Kitchen Sink

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter December/January 2007

It never ceases to amaze me how much gear is needed when traveling with a little one. In the last nineteen months since Amelia's entry into the world, we've been on a few excursions. I have flown to and from Auckland twice with Amelia, without hubby. Earlier this year we had a family trip to Sydney. And we've stayed out at Ruby Bay, a mere 20 minutes drive from Tahuna, at my mums a few times.

Some days I'm good at it. I make my checklist and dash around the house filling a suitcase. Yet for the latest trip away, a simple two nights out at Ruby Bay over Labour w'end, I relaxed the rules a little. There was no list. And so in a very un-Virgo way, I haphazardly packed this and that, aware that this method was probably going to backfire on me.

Which it did. I ended up forgetting a bottle for Amelia (ah, a kind of key ingredient in her night time schedule at this point), my moisturiser, only packed one pair of socks for Amelia and then somehow lost my Pilates DVD between our place and my mums. Still yet to be found. My abs that were slowly toning up are settling back into the relaxed flopping belly they were before I started Pilates. Never fear, I bought another Pilates DVD today, there is hope yet...

My mum said when we were kids she always attached a list of what we'd taken with us to our suitcases so that when we left places we could check we had everything. Good idea. We're heading North over Christmas for two weeks, staying an average of two nights in each place.

The potential to lose precious toys is very high. It is amazing how many toys have been lost so far – out of the buggy. Some sentimental toys – but probably more so for us than Amelia as a few were given to her around her birth. I almost lost a toy she is strangely attached to at the moment the other day. I say strangely 'cos it's a doorstop – that is disguised as a cow. (Or is it a cow disguised as a doorstop??) It's fondly referred to as “sausage -cow”. Amelia insists on going to bed with sausage -cow and it ended up in her buggy the other day only to fall out in the last five minutes of our walk

Thankfully I noticed when we got home that sausage-cow wasn't in the buggy and so hurriedly backtracked. And when I saw sausage-cow in the distance, lying in the intersection between Green and Roto St here in Tahuna I :
1. Prayed that no cars were going to come anytime soon and squash poor sausage-cow.
2. Hoped that no one would see me pathetically pleased to see a cow-doorstop on the road...

Past experience of traveling with Amelia has taught us to bring toys, books and a few Wiggles DVDs. The Wiggles are the only magic trick we have up our sleeves at this point to get Amelia to sit still. They are typically on at the beginning of the day when I shower and at the end of the day, while I prepare tea.

Amelia's music cds seem to be a great source of comfort and entertainment – at the moment she can happily sit by her bookcase going through her books while her music plays for around an hour. So those will be coming up North too – the CDs – not the bookcase!!It certainly is a different kettle of fish traveling with a little one. Gone are the days of chilling out to music or watching an inflight movie on planes. Most flights I spend either encouraging Amelia to sleep or keeping her entertained.

Hubby and I have sat down and attempted to nut out an itinerary for up North. We've decided it's probably best on the days we are driving, to drive during Amelia's nap time which is around two hours at noon which is the average time we'll be on the road between destinations. But if there's any great one thing I've learnt about children it's that plans cannot be set in stone, agendas can change at any moment, and to always allow a lot more time than originally planned for the unexpected.

In our family we've discovered that separate bags for each individual is the easiest way to go. So when we went out to Ruby Bay at Labour weekend Kev and I had medium sized bags each and then Amelia had her very own enormous suitcase containing all her clothes, bedding (for the cot out there that we didn't even use in the end), toys, books, and DVDs. Everything but the kitchen sink, it would seem. :)

Celebrating Dads On The Block

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter July/August 2006

Dads. They are underestimated, I believe. A lot of literature and media hype is directed towards women and motherhood and the battles, judgements and dilemmas they face in the modern age. However, in our antenatal class dads were acknowledged as having an important role to play in the grand scheme of things. They were put into groups and asked to share their feelings – in a kiwi bloke kind-of-a-way. I know my hubby was relieved to find that other dads-to-be were just as terrified as he was about the impending birth awaiting them. A lot of pressure goes on the poor dads to be the support person – and that of course, means offering support - in a kiwi bloke kind-of-a-way. What about the dads who are somewhat faint-hearted? I’ve heard of more than one dad who went quite queasy within labour and had to leave the room and breathe quietly into a paper bag somewhere. Or in one case a dad who actually fainted.

A few months back at the Lions playground in Tahuna, I was the only mum present. The rest of the adults were dads. It’s not often I get outnumbered by dads when I go to the playground or to any of Amelia’s weekly activities such as Playgroup and music. Typically the places I frequent with my toddler are littered with mums. And when dads make an appearance, it’s somewhat of a rarity. But dads are hands-on these days.

Fathers are in many cases the strong, unseen force in the family, even though they may be physically absent weekdays. Sure, they go out and bring home the bacon but they do much more than that. Dads in this day and age are very often present at the birth. When I arrived into the world thirty-something years ago, it was common for the men to be pacing the hospital floor, outside the delivery room. How times have changed. If anything it’s considered somewhat abnormal if a dad isn’t present at the birth. Mums may feel somewhat displaced redefining themselves within motherhood after several years in the workforce. But dads have different issues. They are out at work, supporting the family and then at home in hands-on parenting roles quite different to their fathers a generation ago.

My birthing experience was kind of like an outer body experience – a c-section with a general on the side. And so, I don’t have a colourful tale of hours of labour – in fact, I don’t have a tale to tell! I remain to this day completely clueless as to what a contraction even feels like. But, my hubby was there for the whole duration of Amelia’s birth. It was he who held my hand as the general was administered. He who prayed “on demand” for me. He who watched me being prepped for a c-section and then subsequently, he who witnessed the c-section. And it was he who held Amelia for the first time – at least a good half hour before I was “awake.”
And hubby has been hands on with Amelia all the way. He has been chief bather from the very beginning. And for the last few months has put Amelia to bed as well which has freed up my evenings to, er, watch tv…

But it’s not just the physical, hands on stuff that dads help us mums out with. It’s the emotional too. Hubby was there through all my irrational and hormonal-filled tears in the early months. He was there as I learnt to breastfeed, and he endured (and still does!) living with a sleep deprived wife, as well as skimping on sleep himself.

We try to work as a team and to support each other as much as possible. After all, we are raising our daughter and working (some weeks) almost 60 hours between us without any outside support. And I work just eight hours out of that so you do the math. Hubby is the one out there doing the long hours in the workforce.

I can see what a special and close bond Amelia and her dad share. I am lucky to have such a hands-on hubby with our daughter. When he gets up in the weekend to Amelia’s 6am start and I get to lie in a bit longer, it is wonderful to hear them laughing together in the lounge. And to get the extra zzzs of course. Lately I’ve been broadening my horizons a bit outside of motherhood. Going out with girlfriends the odd Saturday night and even venturing to the gym. I know I never need worry as not only is Amelia in the safest hands possible, she is also in the most loving. They say a mothers work is never done but in all fairness, is a fathers work ever done either?

Making It through THAT First Year

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter May/June 2006

These days we are able to choose when we want to start parenthood. Often we may have ventured quite a way from our hometown and so when we start our own family, we may find we aren't surrounded by our extended family. Not only that, our friends may be at different life stages as well as also living in different cities.

This is the exact boat hubby and I found ourselves in. We'd been in Nelson for three years. Although we'd met a few people in our time here, we didn't have any close friends or family around. It was one of the reasons we signed up with the Parent Center - so we could start a support network. And I had heard that a coffee group typically started up from the antenatal class.

Sure enough just a week or two after our last antenatal class finished, a couple from our class hosted our first get-together. A year on us mums still meet up every second Tuesday, the dads have the occasional beer and we have get-togethers for all of us every now and then.
It was at these coffee groups that I found the missing piece to my life somewhat - women going through the same life change I was. Perhaps we aren't bosom buddies just yet, as they are still very new friendships, but I feel I have a very special bond with them all. And that was certainly apparent at our combined 1st birthday party held in early April. Things were kept simple with a cake. It was a real celebration of our 1st year of parenthood, acknowledging how far we and our babies have come in that first year.

On a deep level I do feel as though I have graduated in a sense. Mummyhood still comes with its challenges. But the chaos and uncertainty that filled the first year has greatly diminished. Hubby and I have our evenings back! We have made the psychological move from two to three. It is no longer a big deal shuffling life around our addition.The thing is parenthood isn't something that you can be greatly prepared for. Not on an emotional level anyway. Physically you can decorate the nursery to your heart's content, and apply for maternity leave or whatever it is you need to do to make some financial preparations. But no one can prepare you for the mental shifts, the highs and lows and the general overhaul most of us go through during this rite of passage known as the first year of parenthood.

All I heard in the wings were dire warnings right from the start. About sleep. Losing your life as you knew it forever. And how with each change within baby's first year, MORE ominous warnings were issued:

1. Before baby arrives “Your time won't be your own.”
2.Once baby arrives “It only gets better.”
3.Once baby gets mobile “It only gets worse.”
4. When baby is almost mobile “Bet you can't wait til she walks.”
5. When baby starts walking “You'll wish she never started.”

Not a lot of us want advice when we go into parenthood. Yet at the same time, we don't often want to go in completely flying blind. So we go to antenatal classes, read some books and observe others from the sidelines making our own conclusions as to what we might be in for.
I was pretty lucky in the advice department. I didn't get a lot thrown my way. The advice I got that proved to be invaluable was sleeping/resting when your baby does. It helped my sanity in those early days of motherhood. And I still apply it to this day!
And some personal gems I've discovered myself for the new parent:

1. You don't have to be perfect.
2. You ARE a great mum (or dad).
3. Love is the best thing you can give your baby.
4. Don't be swayed by marketers that insist you need this and that to make your baby sleep/roll/sit/stand/crawl/walk/poo/fart.
5. Crying It Out is NOT the only way to get a baby to sleep. Don't feel pressured to use this method if it makes you uncomfortable!
6.How you parent your baby is your business and your business alone.
7.Don't feel less than because your baby doesn't sleep through the night. Whatever age your baby is!!

Just as no one can prepare the new parent for how hard and tiring parenting can be; the flip side is no one can explain how amazing it is either. I wouldn't change my first year of mummyhood for the world.

Getting The Balance Right

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter March/April 2006

As a singleton in the work force, I used to recommend that coworkers not talk to me before 10am because I simply wasn't a morning person. After a sausage roll and a cup of tea loaded with sugar, I was normally able to string a few words together at morning tea time. However I learnt quite early in the piece that with motherhood there just isn't that guaranteed quiet cup of tea in the morning. So a walk first thing in the morning with Amelia in her buggy is the time where I get my personal space to revive and start the day fresh. I also spend a few quiet minutes journaling every night as a way of letting go of the day positively.
I divide my time in three ways - me time, us (husband and wife) time and our (the whole family) time. If one of these areas isn't given the attention it needs; the other areas will undoubtedly be affected.

Nurturing me time is essential to my sanity and my family's. Just ask my husband. If I don't get enough exercise, alone time or space to nurture my creativity - I'm a grump. I work two nights a week. Mingling with other staff reminds me that I am more than a mum. Even though most nights the other mums and I end up talking about kids. And child birth. Much to the horror of the only male occasionally rostered on night shift.

Us time is still a work-in-progress with hubby and I. We have family meals together, go for walks in the weekend and catch the occasional movie when Nana is in town. At eleven months Amelia isn't a threat to conversation but as she's on the brink of toddlerhood; that will change. Soon us time will need to be rethought.
Our time is simply spending time together as a family whether it be hanging out at home, at the park or at the beach.

We've just got back from a family trip to Sydney. Even within a holiday it was a matter of finding the right balance so that the whole family could have a good time. We managed to attend a wedding, hang out with extended family, catch up with friends as well as have some family time and us time. Every morning I went for a walk with Amelia so I got in my me time. Nana looked after Amelia while we were at the wedding and reception so hubby and I had our first evening out together in at least a year! It was like a date that we needed - nothing like a few eighties classics to dust off the dancing cobwebs.

Getting the balance right for us was a matter of prioritising our family values. The house and material possessions will always be out there. But the first few precious years of Amelia's life won't be. Sure I could have probably managed more hours in the workforce to get us to our financial goals a little faster but at what price? To miss out on this amazing first year that has unfolded before my eyes. It was a family decision that I work just casually in the first few years of Amelia's life. Even me working eight hours a week puts a bit of a strain on family life as it means hubby is looking after Amelia two nights a week on top of working fulltime and sometimes overtime. But it works for us. We just have enough time to smell the roses. And that's what's important to us.

Out and About With Baby

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter January/February 2006

As Amelia was an Easter baby the two of us spent the first few months of her life quite happily indoors. Most Kiwi winters I've tolerated close to freezing temperatures inside. With a newborn on board, it was the perfect excuse to have the heater on permanently making home a cosy place to be. Even though our power bill soared this winter gone, I will fondly remember the Winter of 2005 as been a luxuriously warm one. It seemed there wasn't much point to venture much further than the letterbox some days. Breastfeeding frequently through the day, I entertained myself watching Dr Phil and Oprah and reading mags and books and napping on the couch. So really, why would I want to go anywhere else? There was something quite delicious about snuggling indoors with my new baby girl.

But then the day came when I of course had to venture beyond the comfort of our family nest. Coffee group was a great incentive to get out of the house. In fact I remember going to coffee group with Amelia when she was just 10 days old. Our first real outing, I was just a little overwhelmed at the prep required for what seemed to be a relatively small outing in the grand scheme of things. Buggy, change of clothes, nappies, car seat. Man oh man. And then we stayed in town for several hours so to the “parent room” I went for the first time to feed my ravenous daughter. New to breastfeeding and to handling a newborn outside the privacy of my own home, I left the house very much with my training wheels on.

Nine months down the track, taking Amelia out hasn't changed a lot except for me being slightly more relaxed. But don't let me fool you. I still have my days. Not so long ago while coordinating taking Amelia out of the car and putting her into her buggy, I didn't use the brakes on her buggy. A gust of wind had it hurtling through a car park, thankfully without her in it. But an elderly couple panicked and raced after the empty buggy, their brows creased with worry. Even though Amelia wasn't in the buggy I still felt somewhat silly that I'd unwittingly inspired a couple of old timers to run in the hope of saving the day, only to come back with an empty buggy with me holding Amelia sheepishly in my arms.

Add sleep deprivation to the picture and I am destined to be juggling somewhat with the general coordination of baby gear, among other things. One time I met a friend for a coffee and couldn't find my car keys anywhere to lock the car. So I had my cup of tea nearby while watching my unlocked car like a hawk. When I returned to my car I found the keys dangling in the boot. Oh dear. A common term for behaviour such is this is “nappy brain”. I'm so glad now that I'm a mum I have an excuse for my blonde moments, as such!

In recent months Amelia and I have been a little more adventurous in our mother-baby outings. During the average week we might go to Playgroup in Tahuna, to our antenatal class coffee group, to a music group, to the park to go on the swing and/or to the beach for a play in the sand or go on a play date.

Some days we just play outside in our garden in the shade under a sun umbrella. I grab a few toys from inside and put them on a picnic blanket for her to play with. For Amelia The Great Outdoors is simply the world outside our house. Our tiny garden is a constant source of wonderment from bumble bees buzzing to a plastic pink flower that whirls happily in the wind to Warren The Cat who stalks the garden like the lion he thinks he is. But typically Warren is the most exciting toy of all as Amelia spends a large part of her day crawling after him. He in turn spends a large part of his day inching away from her grasping fingers.

Examining a blade of grass captivates Amelia, as do the leaves on the trees. Daily rituals like walks to the letterbox in the mornings to get the mail and in the afternoons to get the paper are a simple pleasure. Amelia willingly helps carry any mail back. I call out “Warren” and he trots down the driveway after us, typically collapsing about halfway down for a roll in the gravel and ever so hopeful that he might get a bit of a pat.

These days Amelia enjoys watching the world go by from the comfort of her buggy. The other day we went for a walk on Tahuna Beach. A windy day, Amelia enjoyed watching the kite surfers, the rough surf and the general going-ons on the beach. Patting a couple of dogs was her highlight and she let out a delighted squeal when one dog licked her on the leg.
Recently Amelia's experience of the world broadened further when I took her up to Auckland to visit family and friends. I got to experience flying with a “dream baby” on the way up - non-crying, non-fussy etc. And on the way back the reverse. Passengers were swiveling their heads to get a glimpse of my little fusspot. It was the longest hour and a half, sitting in a space no bigger than a toilet pew with a baby that had ants in her pants.

This Christmas our whole family including Warren headed to Ruby Bay for just over a week to stay with extended family. We loaded the car up with the usual baby paraphernalia including a paddling pool. There was no need to go far as for Amelia a few days on a one acre property located next to the sea is a bit like going to a national park.

A couple of visits to Natureland have provided Amelia with cheap thrills as such and in turn, have delighted us, her parents. So although I don't envision us tramping the Grand Canyon with Amelia in the near future, I can see that her unbridled enthusiasm with the great outdoors as she gets to knows it, will continue to inspire our family unit to step outside and explore our natural world. After all, watching your baby daughter squinting upwards to get a glimpse of a passing plane as the wind gently combs through her hair while happily kicking her feet in the sand is as intoxicating and gratifying as it gets.

And Baby Makes Three

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter November/December 2005

As a singleton-gypsy, I prided myself in being able to fit my worldly belongings into a backpack and a suitcase.
And then I bought my first ever couch five years ago. For this materially-challenged individual it was a big deal. And things spiraled downwards from there. Within five years I bought more furniture, adopted a cat, married and had a baby.

Before kids I thought even as a trained nanny that I understood what it was like to be first-time parents. In hindsight I was completely clueless about the dramatic transformation of becoming a family. Most made it look so easy that I was quite flabbergasted at what a huge life change having a baby really is.

Hubby and I were never great partiers yet we’ve cut down on our brunches, DVD and movie-watching, junk food consumption, general hanging out time and reckless spending. As time passes, our former life is slowly seeping back in a revised form. And now that I am back on a casual basis in the work force again, I have realigned my former child-free self with motherhood. And I have changed. Life has slowed down enough to finally stop and smell the roses. Nowadays my weekly highlight is coffeeing once a week somewhere and treating myself to a muffin or a piece of carrot cake. Life is so much more simple yet so much richer.

Every now and then I have these moments when it dawns on me that I am a mum at home living in the burbs and how much I love that! Once a world traveller, now in the last seven months I haven’t travelled further than the distance between Tahuna and Ruby Bay. Once hip and trendy, now I try to avoid the temptation of clothes shopping. Amelia’s wardrobe is better than mine! Once I was the nurturer within my friendships often instigating emails and phone calls. Now my nurturi