Parenting Your Way

"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter July/August 2007

As soon as I embarked on this journey called parenthood, it seemed I was exposed to several choices. That meant making decisions. And with every decision to be made, there came opinions. Or advice. Whichever way you look at it, there is always someone, somewhere more than willing to “share” their well-meaning advice in that minefield called parenthood.

Once pregnant the first decision was to do with mid-wives – hospital or independent?
I chose independent simply because I'd been given the brochure!

Then of course the birth itself – did I want a natural birth or a drug-induced one, in a hospital or a home birth? Well, I had hoped my birthing experience was going to resemble something a la The Pink Kit that I religiously “practised” during the months leading up to my due date. I opted for a hospital birth as I'm a cautious (or is it practical?) Virgo and quite fancied a few cooked meals post-delivery. (even if the scrambled eggs resembled a slab of cheese).

However, when birth plans go anything but planned, and suddenly every drug under the sun is administered, the safety of mother and child is most important. The birthing story isn't nearly as exciting – how does one relay the experience of being sliced open in surgery whilst knocked unconscious? Call me stupid, but I do hold a little bit of green envy for the Mum's who've experienced the whole shebang – contractions, waters breaking, labour, the bloodiness of birth and seeing the face of the newborn for the first time, covered in gunk and goo. My birth story has a beginning and an end – but no middle. One minute I was on the operating table, next minute a mask placed over my face as my world temporarily turned black. Then I woke up to see a brand-spanking, gunk-free babe in my hubby's arms! It was hard to make the association in my brain initially that she was actually mine.

The choices went on. Breastfeeding or formula? When breastfeeding is anything but natural to begin with, it's easy to see why for some it just doesn't work out. I persevered finding it to be far from natural to begin with. But I would never have dreamed that one day it would not only feel natural but that I'd still be breastfeeding, albeit occasionally, my two plus year old.

Cloth nappies or disposables? Well for this fumble-fingered Mum, dealing with the folding of a cloth nappy was too much. For me, it was a little like origami. I started with disposables and apart from a brief stint this Summer of using a few modern cloth nappies as well, they have been my nappy of choice. Sure I have felt bad about all the waste. And over the Summer I did enjoy hanging out the modern cloth nappies on the line, and felt a little more proud of my green efforts. But for us, they did lead to nappy rash so that didn't work out as a long-term measure.

Choices are made along the way as to how we want to achieve balance within parenthood. And that's going to be different for everyone. Some of us need stimulation outside of the home. Some don't so much. There seems to be a lot of judgment out there around the whole childcare issue. If a Mum is happier having some space in her week from her children, then she should go for it. For the Mums like myself who choose not to use childcare, our kids aren't missing out. So long as they are socialised and stimulated, at the end of the day, they are all going to turn out pretty much the same.

Spacing is another choice parents have to make when expanding their wee families. Some choose to have their children closer together to get “all the nappies out of the way” or so siblings will hopefully play together. Others prefer some space between siblings for economic reasons or maybe just want to enjoy their firstborn a little longer and/or the freedom that comes with having an independent toddler.

Some of us don't have a choice with spacing as we face fertility issues. And so my latest decision to make has been how to approach this. Again, there are very black and white solutions out there. Fertility drugs or herbal remedies? For today I've chosen herbal remedies but will keep an open mind in the future.

It seems a lot of the choices to be made by us Mums (and Dads) are quite black and white, initially. Yet when in the midst of parenting, many gray areas unwittingly appear. There are pros and cons for every choice to be made. And obviously parents are going to be supportive and perhaps opinionated about the parenting decisions they've made that have worked for them. Personally I now I have my own strong views and opinions around some areas of parenting and know that not everyone will agree with me.

We are all different and so we will all parent in our own unique way. I've found in the last two years of parenting that I will always disagree with some parents around their choices just as some will disagree with my choices. The important thing is to believe that you are doing the best job that you can, as you are your child's parents, and only you and you alone have the right to decide how to parent. It isn't anyone else's business how you parent. With that in mind, it isn't any of our business how others parent their kids either.

The Garage Sale

Entered in The Whakatane Friends of the Library Short Story Competition 2007.
The magic of de-cluttering.
"Being able to write natural dialogue is a rare talent, but this author has the gift. I enjoyed reading The Garage Sale, and while I found the plot a little predictable, the style of writing and skill elevated this story to a healthy mid-field position (a very happy place to be). "

Eva heard the sound of gravel crunching, as someone walked up her driveway. She checked her watch. Eight-twenty a.m. She hadn't even put the signs out for her advertised eight-thirty start for her garage sale yet. An eldery gentleman stood before her.
“Do you have any gardening books?” he asked.
“Sorry, no” she said “I'm not much of a gardener.” He nodded then proceeded to rummage through her box of books anyway. He picked one up and smiled. It was a relationship self-help book. She grimaced as he caught her eye.
“Didn't help me much.” she said, shaking her head and laughing.
The eldery gentleman took in everything that was in the sale in one long sweep. Most of the gear was that of a man's. Shirts, sports gear, records – it was almost as though you could piece together who the character was whose gear was being sold.
“What happened?” he found himself asking.
“An accident...” she trialed off “He...it was a car accident.”
“I'm so sorry,” he said “But isn't having this all out like this rather difficult love? Couldn't you have taken it all to the Salvation Army?”
“Could have” she said “Only, although he died and it was tragic, we were almost over. Before it happened...his accident...there was another woman. I just think seeing for sure that this stuff is going will help me, you know, get over it.”
“Right” he said “Well good luck lass.” He patted her on the shoulder and headed off down the driveway. Eva walked after him and put out the signs.

Within seconds the hoards started to arrive. There were the regulars who scanned garage sales on a weekly basis, either hunting for particular items or wanting to find a great bargain. There were those who just fancied a good old nosey or wanted to spend a little bit of cash on nothing in particular. It was a strange process watching people pick up her personal items that Eva had rejected herself, only to see them put them down again and the rejector then walking away. Or some would buy things she was sure were meant for the tip.
“You a boarder then?”
Eva looked up to see an outdoorsy guy with wild brown hair topped off with a backwards cap, holding up her snowboot boots.
“Was” she managed “I haven't been boarding for years.”
“They're pretty old” he said “But I like the odd retro pair for the shop. How much?”
“Five dollars” she said.
A lined browned masculine hand handed her a fiver.“Thanks” she said as she pocketed it.
“It's meant to be a great Winter – lots of powder. You ought to get back on the horse again.”
He winked, she smiled and he walked off with the boots.

As the sporty stranger crunched off down her driveway, Eva allowed herself to reflect a little. Seeing the boots go seemed to bring up an assortment of feelings. He'd bought her those boots a lifetime ago. It was one of the few things he'd ever bought her, as a gift. They were in a way the last concrete, and sentimental link to a past that was long gone. The boots represented the fun side of their rocky and treachous union. When she'd worn those, their relationship altered. On this sunny Autumn day she reflected how it had been like magic gliding down the slopes together.

“Ahem” a man cleared his throat. “These records, twenty dollars for the lot?” Eva looked to see what the young man in his early twenties with mild acne was showing her. Retro music. Bet he's a DJ, she thought to herself. He'd picked out The Cure, Michael Jackson, The Beastie Boys, The Clash and Boney M. “Sure” she nodded. He handed her a twenty and then strided off down the driveway. Amazing, just like that. Five albumns that represented their courting days. The good old days, when their future was bright.

More things sold. As each item went, Eva felt a little lighter. Sure she could have just taken it all to the Sallies – or the dump. But she was making a little bit of cash from the garage sale and it was proving to be a form of therapy for her.

Then she turned up. Eva knew instantly it was her. She'd seen her at the funeral, the mystery blonde standing awkwardly alone, seemingly knowing noone at the back of the church. Eva couldn't believe she'd even come. And now, it was beyond belief that she was actually on her property.

She stood right before her.
“Hi Eva” she said casually as if they were friends or at the very least, acquaintances. “Um – Holly” she said, stretching out a pale hand.
Eva looked at the white hand, limp, like a dead fish and didn't react.
“Hi” she said, resisting screaming What the hell are you doing here??!! at her.
“I saw the ad in the paper. I, er, recognised the address” She coughed nervously “Mind if I have a quick look?”
Eva shot her one of her worst evil looks. “I do mind” she heard herself saying “I think it best you leave.” Holly took this in, and nodded. Trembling, she seemed to be immobilised. “It's just, I don't have anything of his, I just thought...” she looked around helplessly.
“Well the problem is Holly, what you see around you are remnants of my life with him. Not yours. Everything here is from our time together. From the beginning – to the end.” She shot her another evil look.
Holly nodded. “I understand” she said, a tear trickling down her face. A white hand came up and hurriedly wiped it away. “I'm sorry...” and she turned on her heels.

In that moment Eva realised that she had a decade or more of memories before her. Sure they'd been tainted because of recent events, but they were all hers, theirs. Perhaps the only memory Holly had was of the dirty sheets her lover had left behind. Perhaps she had nothing tangible.

“Wait...” Eva ran half-way down the driveway and tapped Holly on the back. “You can have this.” Holly looked down as Eva opened her hand to reveal a watch. Holly smiled as clearly she recognised it. “Thank you” she said. The two women looked at each other for a few seconds in silence.
“Are you really going to get rid of it all? Because of me? “ Holly bravely asked.
“Yes I am” said Eva “But not because of you. He and I had a real life together. What you and he had was fleeting. Our relationship finished long before you, long before he died.”
“Right” muttered Holly, holding on to the watch tightly.
“Well I better get back to it.” said Eva.
“Of course, thanks for the watch” said Holly as she disappeared down the driveway.

An hour later as the hoards stopped, Eva brought in the signs. She'd made close to two hundred dollars. That afternoon she found herself in a sports shop. She walked past the snowboards and took in the large range of skis before her.
“You a skiier then?” it was the guy from the garage sale that morning.
“Yes, I think I am.” she smiled.
“It's meant to be a great Winter this year – lots of powder” he said, clearly not remembering her from the garage sale.
“Sounds great.” she found herself saying.

The Curse Of The Written Word

Lately I have noted how easy it is for others to get the wrong end of the stick as such with my writing. Emailing and blogging are not always reliable forms of communication, it would seem. One writes differently in these forums and so if you write freely, like I do, letting the words just spill out, it isn't really much different to not thinking before you speak.

And perhaps I do need to learn to think before I speak.

I have had a backlash recently around expressing myself in the written form. This has caused me to ponder as to whether I could be a better communicator. Of course I can. There is always room for improvement.

I went to see Danny Bhoy (a Scottish/Indian comedian) last Winter here in Nelson with some work colleagues (and we're going again this August). He had me in stitches, but what I actually took away from his gig was the sentiment of direct communication being the most gracious and effective way to well, communicate. It's so easy in this day and age to text, email and now blog. And I'm guilty of being an abuser of all three.

But I've turned a corner with all this. Yes, I have decided that I will continue to blog for myself. Friends, family, and whoever else are welcome to read my posts. But really it is just an outlet and a place for me to write. We have a family blog which is great for family updates. But our family blog can't be soley relied on for contact. Otherwise we are in danger of creating relationships that float around in cyber space. So for actual contact with friends and family, I might try using the phone a little more. Some long distance relationships are exempt from this, as obviously I can't phone everyone on my (email) contact list.

In the past I've resorted to email as a cheats and almost lazy way of making contact. Same with texting. It's so easy to use the excuse of a busy life to flick off an email or to send a quick text. So I'm going to try emailing a little less. In fact I've been doing that already for the last few weeks - checking my emails once a day and switching the computer off afterwards instead of having it on all day and checking my in-box on each passing. Phone calls don't have to be long, if possible I will phone the person (especially if local) and save myself the twenty cents it costs to send a text.

Don't get me wrong, emailing and texting will continue as ways of keeping contact with others, but if it is possible to make a phone-call, then I will. Give me a couple of months and we'll see how I go...