It is Spring in New Zealand. The time of year we all look forward to after a long, cold Winter. Typically the afternoons are windy, the mountains often snow-capped this time of year in Nelson. The best bit is the days are bathed in glorious sunshine here at the Top of the South. It's a confirmation that despite the sunshine wages and the high cost of housing, living in a location with almost guaranteed sunshine does indeed put a smile on your dial. When the sun is out, that is.
This Spring there has been a fair amount of rain to add to the mix. The whole country has been affected and Nelson has gotten off lightly. The rain has been tolerated, but not enjoyed. Nelsonians have trotted out when the sun has come out for a fix whenever possible - just in case there's another downpour. Our faith in endless days of warm weather is wavering. The other day I put three loads of washing out on the line only to bring them in when the sky turned suspiciously grey. I'd been caught once already this Spring and was on to it - I thought. However the grey sky passed and so out went the laundry again only to have raindrops from literally out of the blue (sky) fall. In went the the laundry, only to go out again the following morning when it finally dried. Normally Spring-time is the time laundry dries in hours as it is whipped around in the wind and blasted with sunshine. Not this Spring with it's intermittent rain-drops.
For the fashion conscious, Spring contradicts itself somewhat. On one hand it is time to strip off a layer or two. But on the other hand it's not quite Summer, so it's questionable as to how far one should go. And with the rain-drops not been too far away this season, often umbrellas and other wet-weather gear get carted around. Underneath my daughter's buggy resembles a bag ladies wardrobe what with a mix of several seasons of clothing shoved below for her and I, just in case the weather should turn.
Out and about on a sunny Spring day, it is often quite amusing observing how this change of season is interpreted by others.
Some, with the first burst of warmer weather decide to skip Spring and to jump head first into Summer. Teens are the typical lets-just-skip-Spring advocates. With their bare limbs and minimal clothing; it is easy to think it is in fact Summer. But when you see for yourself the snow on the hills while walking on Tahuna beach, and shiver visibly, you can only conclude two things: that youth are thick-skinned and/or youth would rather freeze than miss out on an opportunity to walk around in minimal clothing.
Then there are the seasonally confused. Not sure whether to wear Summer or Winter clothing; they end up mixing two wardrobes. The result: clothes that just don't match. Or some take a gamble and decide it is more of a Summer day than a Winter day today and stroll around in the latest Spring fashion in the morning, only having to cover it up in the afternoon with a hefty Winter's jacket when the wind picks up. Or vice versa, the safe approach of dressing warm is chosen only to find that one is completely overcooked midday on a twenty-something degree day in thick woollen socks and a winter jumper.
Layering is a popular option for Spring-time in Nelson. And the safest way to go. Cardies, sweatshirts and jackets are all great ways of covering up when that sunny Spring weather isn't quite warm enough to reveal your fantastic new Spring wardrobe. Just don't forget your umbrella as it seems to be a necessary part of the Spring wardrobe this year.
Sunday, 9 September 2007
Sunday, 19 August 2007
A Night Away
Recently I escaped family life to go on an overnight trip to Blenheim with friends. I resisted leaving a long list of instructions for my hubby knowing he is more than capable of looking after our almost two and a half year old. Besides, she's old enough to gesture towards the pantry when she's hungry and it's obviously time to change her nappy when it's dragging on the floor.
I booked a room of my own at a lodge. I was particularly looking forward to eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Since we have been blessed with a non-sleeper, it feels like a life-time ago when I last got the eight hours of sleep recommended for an adult to function.
“You can tell you're a Mum” said one of my friends sitting next to me at dinner as she pointed to my empty plate, finished a good five minutes before everyone else. Little did she know that I have been a food-inhaler most of my life. I cannot blame parenthood for the way I throw food down my throat. But, she had a valid point. Our 5pm tea times are typically so focused on getting food into our toddler, that I often forget to chew.
Dining out, I relished concentrating on my meal alone instead of constantly worrying about what goes into my two year-olds mouth. Sipping a beer with my pub grub was a luxury as there is typically no place for alcohol with our early evening child-friendly meals. Adult conversation just made me feel like, well, an adult. There was no reciting and doing actions from The Wiggles, clapping whenever several mouthfuls got swallowed or counting out pieces of vegetables to get our girl to eat. It was tempting to clap when my friends finished their meals, but I managed to restrain myself.
When I first got back to my room at the lodge after dinner, I wondered what I might do for the rest of the evening. Long shower? Watch TV from bed? Read a trashy woman's mag?
In an effort to pack in as much as I could in my night away, I ended up doing all of the above.
Lights out at 11pm, I looked forward to eight hours of uninterrupted, blissful sleep.
I woke up cold at 3am and thoughts started up about my daughter being awake and my husband struggling to get her back to sleep back in Nelson. Eventually I coaxed the thoughts out of my brain, and I drifted off to sleep again.
When I awoke just a few hours later at 6am, I switched on the electric blanket and desperately tried to will myself back to sleep.
At 7.30am, I awoke somewhat disappointed that I didn't sleep like a log. Clearly I have lost the ability to sleep through the night.
Twenty-six and a half hours later I returned home. By then I was missing my girl and anticipated a joyful reunion. When I walked through the door she gave me a token glance and then carried on playing blocks with her daddy. Seems I wasn't as missed as I thought I would be. Fine by me, as I'm already planning my next night away.
I booked a room of my own at a lodge. I was particularly looking forward to eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Since we have been blessed with a non-sleeper, it feels like a life-time ago when I last got the eight hours of sleep recommended for an adult to function.
“You can tell you're a Mum” said one of my friends sitting next to me at dinner as she pointed to my empty plate, finished a good five minutes before everyone else. Little did she know that I have been a food-inhaler most of my life. I cannot blame parenthood for the way I throw food down my throat. But, she had a valid point. Our 5pm tea times are typically so focused on getting food into our toddler, that I often forget to chew.
Dining out, I relished concentrating on my meal alone instead of constantly worrying about what goes into my two year-olds mouth. Sipping a beer with my pub grub was a luxury as there is typically no place for alcohol with our early evening child-friendly meals. Adult conversation just made me feel like, well, an adult. There was no reciting and doing actions from The Wiggles, clapping whenever several mouthfuls got swallowed or counting out pieces of vegetables to get our girl to eat. It was tempting to clap when my friends finished their meals, but I managed to restrain myself.
When I first got back to my room at the lodge after dinner, I wondered what I might do for the rest of the evening. Long shower? Watch TV from bed? Read a trashy woman's mag?
In an effort to pack in as much as I could in my night away, I ended up doing all of the above.
Lights out at 11pm, I looked forward to eight hours of uninterrupted, blissful sleep.
I woke up cold at 3am and thoughts started up about my daughter being awake and my husband struggling to get her back to sleep back in Nelson. Eventually I coaxed the thoughts out of my brain, and I drifted off to sleep again.
When I awoke just a few hours later at 6am, I switched on the electric blanket and desperately tried to will myself back to sleep.
At 7.30am, I awoke somewhat disappointed that I didn't sleep like a log. Clearly I have lost the ability to sleep through the night.
Twenty-six and a half hours later I returned home. By then I was missing my girl and anticipated a joyful reunion. When I walked through the door she gave me a token glance and then carried on playing blocks with her daddy. Seems I wasn't as missed as I thought I would be. Fine by me, as I'm already planning my next night away.
Yay For Dads!
"New Mum On The Block "
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter September/October 2007
One afternoon, after a lunchtime nap, Amelia and I woke up to the unmistakable smell of baking. Sure enough, hubby had a cake on the go. Amelia has had cake before, but treats of any kind are very occasional in this household. One of her favourite books of late is one from the Spot series about making a cake for Spot's dad's birthday. This afternoon in which the house was filled with the aroma of chocolate cake, Amelia made the connection. Cake was a hit, and it became her new word of the day. When we came back from an afternoon outing , “cake” was uttered very hopefully as she searched the cupboards, hoping to find some more. Even at dinner that night, veges and mince weren't quite as popular as usual. And “cake” was uttered even upon waking the following day.
These kinds of shared family moments are priceless. I am forever grateful that I am part of a family unit, that I do have the support of a loving husband. I cannot imagine what it must be like to parent alone. I do have friends and family members in this position and do not envy them one bit.
Although hubby and I tag-team through-out the week, we all breathe a sigh of relief when we get to Friday as the weekend is ours. Parenting together is much easier than parenting alone. I feel my stress levels drop when there are two of us at home. When we're here together we're able to use one another as sounding boards, to bounce ideas around and are able to relish precious family time. And it is so rewarding to see Amelia's eyes light up when she realises on a Friday night Mum isn't racing off to work, her course or anywhere else. On a Saturday moming, it's all smiles when she discovers Dad is at home when she checks on his side of his bed to see if he is there or not.
When we are all home together, there is a different vibe. Amelia has a spark to her and a cheekiness that doubles, or perhaps triples, when she has a captive audience of two. Some of Amelia's favourite family games include getting into bed together for a family cuddle – any time of the day. Or doing roly poly's in the lounge together. Or getting swung in the air between her parents.
I have undeniably been the favourite parent, for lack of a better description, all the way through. I have been the one who has been requested mostly, especially during the wee hours. However lately something has shifted. Amelia no longer fusses or cries when I leave the house. Sometimes I'm lucky to even get a “bye” from her. Now hubby can put her to bed when I'm home without any kind of a protest. I think she's gotten to the point where she's perhaps Mum-ed out by the end of the day and welcomes the time spent with her Dad in the evening. This is a very welcome shift for both hubby and myself.
Recently one wet Winter's morning, we went to Chipmunks and it was “Dees” (Amelia's word for daddy) that Amelia sought to romp around with. So “Dees” followed Amelia up into the play area, while looking like a bit of a contortionist with his six foot frame. Meanwhile I was left to sit and sip a cup of tea while they played. Shame. There are of course some consolations to being the second choice of parent at any given moment.
Although we are going through a phase in which it is difficult to leave Amelia with others, it is nice to see that it is her Dad that she clings to just as much as her Mum these days. We've come a long way in this household since assuring from the beginning that Amelia has had ample opportunities to bond with her dad. It is very rewarding to see that this has happened naturally.
This Father's Day, I want to thank my husband Kev for his on-going tremendous efforts as a dad. From changing nappies all the way through that have included the poo explosions of the newborn days to the solid rocks of today. For bathing Amelia and putting her to bed at night so I can work/go to Yoga/ go to my course. Or watch Shortland Street! For being a solid, steady rock for Amelia and I. And for being understanding and non-nonjudgmental during my less-than-perfect Mum moments.
I have only been apart overnight once from my daughter in the last two plus years. About four months ago when I went to Motueka for a night with some girlfriends. It was the break I needed. I was only gone for 24 hours but it was just enough time to feel like an adult, to feel like me, for a decent amount of time. And this weekend, as I go away with the girls again for a night in Blenheim, I know everything will be fine back here.
I do love that during the week I do see a number of Dads out there at the various groups Amelia attends. Dads add to the groups we go to. It is good for us Mums and great for kids to see Dads weekly who are very much involved out there. Happy Fathers Day to all the wonderful dads out there. Us Mums who are lucky enough to have your support couldn't do it without you.
Nelson District Parent Centre Newsletter September/October 2007
One afternoon, after a lunchtime nap, Amelia and I woke up to the unmistakable smell of baking. Sure enough, hubby had a cake on the go. Amelia has had cake before, but treats of any kind are very occasional in this household. One of her favourite books of late is one from the Spot series about making a cake for Spot's dad's birthday. This afternoon in which the house was filled with the aroma of chocolate cake, Amelia made the connection. Cake was a hit, and it became her new word of the day. When we came back from an afternoon outing , “cake” was uttered very hopefully as she searched the cupboards, hoping to find some more. Even at dinner that night, veges and mince weren't quite as popular as usual. And “cake” was uttered even upon waking the following day.
These kinds of shared family moments are priceless. I am forever grateful that I am part of a family unit, that I do have the support of a loving husband. I cannot imagine what it must be like to parent alone. I do have friends and family members in this position and do not envy them one bit.
Although hubby and I tag-team through-out the week, we all breathe a sigh of relief when we get to Friday as the weekend is ours. Parenting together is much easier than parenting alone. I feel my stress levels drop when there are two of us at home. When we're here together we're able to use one another as sounding boards, to bounce ideas around and are able to relish precious family time. And it is so rewarding to see Amelia's eyes light up when she realises on a Friday night Mum isn't racing off to work, her course or anywhere else. On a Saturday moming, it's all smiles when she discovers Dad is at home when she checks on his side of his bed to see if he is there or not.
When we are all home together, there is a different vibe. Amelia has a spark to her and a cheekiness that doubles, or perhaps triples, when she has a captive audience of two. Some of Amelia's favourite family games include getting into bed together for a family cuddle – any time of the day. Or doing roly poly's in the lounge together. Or getting swung in the air between her parents.
I have undeniably been the favourite parent, for lack of a better description, all the way through. I have been the one who has been requested mostly, especially during the wee hours. However lately something has shifted. Amelia no longer fusses or cries when I leave the house. Sometimes I'm lucky to even get a “bye” from her. Now hubby can put her to bed when I'm home without any kind of a protest. I think she's gotten to the point where she's perhaps Mum-ed out by the end of the day and welcomes the time spent with her Dad in the evening. This is a very welcome shift for both hubby and myself.
Recently one wet Winter's morning, we went to Chipmunks and it was “Dees” (Amelia's word for daddy) that Amelia sought to romp around with. So “Dees” followed Amelia up into the play area, while looking like a bit of a contortionist with his six foot frame. Meanwhile I was left to sit and sip a cup of tea while they played. Shame. There are of course some consolations to being the second choice of parent at any given moment.
Although we are going through a phase in which it is difficult to leave Amelia with others, it is nice to see that it is her Dad that she clings to just as much as her Mum these days. We've come a long way in this household since assuring from the beginning that Amelia has had ample opportunities to bond with her dad. It is very rewarding to see that this has happened naturally.
This Father's Day, I want to thank my husband Kev for his on-going tremendous efforts as a dad. From changing nappies all the way through that have included the poo explosions of the newborn days to the solid rocks of today. For bathing Amelia and putting her to bed at night so I can work/go to Yoga/ go to my course. Or watch Shortland Street! For being a solid, steady rock for Amelia and I. And for being understanding and non-nonjudgmental during my less-than-perfect Mum moments.
I have only been apart overnight once from my daughter in the last two plus years. About four months ago when I went to Motueka for a night with some girlfriends. It was the break I needed. I was only gone for 24 hours but it was just enough time to feel like an adult, to feel like me, for a decent amount of time. And this weekend, as I go away with the girls again for a night in Blenheim, I know everything will be fine back here.
I do love that during the week I do see a number of Dads out there at the various groups Amelia attends. Dads add to the groups we go to. It is good for us Mums and great for kids to see Dads weekly who are very much involved out there. Happy Fathers Day to all the wonderful dads out there. Us Mums who are lucky enough to have your support couldn't do it without you.
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