Real Mums in a Real World

Doing the “good mum” thing the other day and playing with the kids at a playground.

(OK, I was feeding the baby whilst texting some friends, and the older two climbed up things the wrong way, and down other things. The wrong way.)

I noticed a woman wearing a shirt that had, across the back “What’s your superpower?”

My immediate thought was it was one of those shirts advertising something - a new rum mixer or similar.

Curiosity got the better of me (as it is wont to do - damn that Curiosity!) and I did the walk around, sneaky glance thing. The front read “I make milk.”

Thus, I make milk, what’s your superpower.

An initiative of the Australian Breastfeeding Association (aka the ABA).

Cool shirt I thought.

With my background in health, my recent study in health and my two, now three, gorgeous boys, I am an breastfeeding advocate. Besides that, it’s just too damned easy for people like me whose heads are too full and they leave the bottles behind.

(Yep, been there and done that too)

I’m well versed on the benefits of breastfeeding, for the baby and the mum. In oh, so many ways! We’ve all had it rammed down our throats, so there’s no need for me to repeat all the research and World Health Organisation stuff again.

However, I am not an advocate at the expense of the mental health of the mother. I firmly believe the health and development of a baby is just as much, if not more, affected by the emotional and psychological health of a mother than it is by what, or how, it is fed.

(Obviously within reason. There are some things a baby should just not be fed. A diet consisting soley of cow’s milk, for example, is proven to be disasterous. Your top shelf Belgian chocolate is also not a good idea, and just a complete waste of chocolate on someone so unappreciative of such things.)

While I firstly thought the shirt was cool, and I’m sure went a long way to encouraging Mums who may have been teetering between feeding styles, or lacking in confidence about their abilities to breastfeed and persist with it, I did begin to wonder whether it gave some mums, particuarly those who have a really easy time breastfeeding and/or are fanatical about it some sort of perception that they were better than mums who bottle feed.

I also wonder what it does for those women who would dearly love to breastfeed, but for some reason - emotional, psychological or physical - are unable. Do these women, who have successfully carried and birthed a baby, and raised it to whatever age, feel some what Super Inadequate as a result of not being able to “make milk”.

I also wonder about those who choose, for whatever reason, not to breastfeed. Do phrases like this place them into some other “lesser category”? Does it make them rise up and protest (unnecessarily as far as I’m concerned) that they’re doing a great job? Or just add another “Guilt” to their already overflowing list?

Or both?

Frankly, it’s not a “super” power. It’s a perfectly natural response to a whole heap of hormonal and physiological goings on in the body after the birth of a baby. Some women have it better or more than others. Just like some experience PMT more or less than others.

“Making milk” is something that “millions of women all over the world do every day” to use a common phrase that is thrown at numerous mums when they make comment about being scared of childbirth/children or when they cry out for help.

I’m quite sure it’s not the ABAs intention to alienate a whole heap of women, and it was designed to encourage a whole heap of others, comments like these can go a long way to adding to the isolation and inadequacies a lot of Mums already feel.

It’s bad enough we have the 80 year old Italian Grandfather next door telling us what to do, without the experts adding to the confusion.

I’m not a fan of the term Super Mum, nor of Mums being labelled “super” for various Mumming activities - or non-mumming activities that they partake in whilst they are Mums.

What I am a fan of is mums feeling “super” for doing the amazing jobs that they do each and every day, regardless of whether they Make Milk, or whether they make those sandwiches filled will all kinds of vegetable type goodness, then cut into little stars and packed into the lunchbox.

Personally, I’m a Vegemite cut into little triangle person myself. And if you don’t like it, don’t eat it, but there’s nothing else for ya!

Once upon a time (like, well before kids) I was so very organised with Christmas Gifts.

I’d start sometime in early July and have everything sitting in the wardrobe, neatly labelled and accompanied by my list of what I’d purchased and for whom. With ticks, of course, as gifts were obtained.

The older my first got, the later in the year my gifts purchasing got. I still had the list, however. The more kids I had, the later still the trips to the excessively large and over-populated shopping centres. And the more stuff my kids got.

A few years back, I vowed to attempt online gift purchasing. Not only was it easier (or so I assumed. Hadn’t actually tried it, so who knows?) but I now had at my disposal access to some amazing businesses, run by Mums like myself (only much more sane, and they look like they’d brushed their hair and put makeup on).

Never happened of course. I left it too late and had to do that mad dash thing, or grab pressies whenver I was out, resulting in 7 presents for one niece and half a pressie for another. Don’t ask.

This year, I’ve outdone myself.

Yup, I have created, not just for myself, but all you out there, a Gift Guide complete with special offers! Hooray!

I managed to get together a bunch - three pages worth - of fabulous businesses who have agreed to offer Real Mums some awesome discounts and giveaways. And, of course, members of the Real Mother’s Club get even better discounts, deals and giveaways.

There are also some fabulous pre-Christmas Articles, which are a must read.

But … the Christmas Guide … make sure you have a read and get your Christmas shopping in early. I promise I will this year.

You can view it here …

If yesterday’s Cup Day losses weren’t enough to whine about (my horse came seventh!!rent a car bulgaria argh!) then we also have the end of the year tiredness and subsequent obnoxiousness with the kids.

And, Christmas to think about. Surely we have enough without this as well?!

Figured a good Wontanella Colombard Viognier (2004) might be a good wine to help with our whine.

Quoted as a:

… it’s a good one. Perfect for upcoming hotter weather (although in Melbourne we’re getting some decent hot ones intermittently - you can just never pick ‘em, much like our horses!), and we ’peach and honeyed finish’ will do wonders for soothing the throat after screaming at the horses, screaming at the kids, and screaming at idiot drivers in car parks while attempting to get in and out with the Christmas shopping!

Better still - it’s only $5.99 a bottle (from $16 a bottle) but only from the Real Mums Wine Club

(Which, by the way, is completely free to join, gives you some great deals like the one above, and you go into the draw to win a bottle of Penfold’s Grange! Woo hooo!!) 

Join now!

We have the most delicious 2 month old baby.

He sleeps really well. Eight hour stretches at night, even.

He even sleeps the whole night through. Although he is waking a little earlier than we like - around 5 or 6 am - he is sleeping through.

He’s just amazing.

All of this about our little bundle of joy was brought to my attention when I turned up at school during the week. The mother of one of Monkey Boy’s school friends who has a baby boy only 6 weeks older than Chippie approached me and informed me that she is “not happy with me!”

Not sure what I’d done. We’d always got along so well. Ouch!

“Your husband told me this morning that Chippie slept eight hours last night!”

Did he now. Well, ish. It wasn’t exactly an eight hour sleep but it was eight hours between feeds.

What he neglected to mention was that the feed at 7pm was a battle, given Chippie had a really snotty nose and a disgusting chest cough. (Grumpy had also not been around for most of the day to witness a grumpy and unsettled bub). He was put to bed around 8, cried on and off for another hour or more and eventually fell asleep.

Thus, the “eight hours” commenced at 7pm … meaning a wakeup at 3am!

Does this count? I kinda hate being woken at 3am, regardless of how many hours the baby has slept for.

I sorted that one out, went home to a Daddy-less house and dealt with the chaos that is our evening with 3 boys and no Daddy. Chippie always needs a feed when it is food prep time, and Mummy eating time. Godzilla always wants something that requires me standing at the stove and, therefore, unable to feed baby. And Monkey Boy just “wants food now!”

Did the whole thing, got them to bed, fed again and got myself to bed. Daddy comes home, wakes me, watches TV for a bit, wakes me again when he comes to bed and then wakes up bright and cheery in the morning.

“WOW!” he informs me. “He slept well last night.”

Sure, if you consider 3-4 hourly feeds from 9pm to 6am “sleeping well”

Perhaps he was just unable to hear the crying over the sounds of his apnoeaic reverberations and his far too regular flatulent emissions. Hmm, ‘emissions’ implies subtlety - thunderous flatulence may be a more apt description.

Reverberations and thunderous flatulence, mind you, that also kept me awake most of the night.

Term 4 of school and the fatigue (and obnoxiousness) has well and truly set in.

Thoughts of that whole Christmas thing are starting to set in as well. Like we have time to think about it!

Thank goodness its Friday! And for those if us in Melbourne, an extra long weekend with Cup Day coming up next Tuesday.

(Most teachers are taking Monday off, so we get an extra day with the Cherubs! Argh!)

Not likely to be going to the Cup because babysitters are either going themselves, or taking advantage and charging arms and legs. Tried to give them the kids, but apparently that’s not acceptable currency.

So, what better way to spend the extra long weekend than escaping with a good book?

Novembers Book Club book is Plain Truth by Jodi Piccoult:

‘A suspenseful, richly layered drama …The research is convincing, the plotting taut, the scenes wonderfully vivid …A hummer of a tale.’ - PeopleMoving seamlessly from psychological drama to courtroom suspense, Plain Truth is a triumph of contemporary storytelling. Jodi Picoult presents a fascinating portrait of Amish life rarely witnessed by those outside the faith - and discovers a place where circumstances are not always what they seem, where love meets falsehood, and where relationships grow strong enough to transcend death.When Ellie Hathaway decides to defend an unmarried Amish woman against the charge of the murder of her own child, the urban-savvy defence attorney finds herself caught in a clash of cultures with a people whose channels of justice are markedly different from her own. Plain Truth is the extraordinary story of two unforgettable women - and what happens when their disparate worlds collide.Jodi Picoult’s bestselling and widely acclaimed novels include Perfect Match, Salem Falls, Keeping Faith, The Pact and Mercy. She lives in New Hampshire with her husband and three children. Read more about Jodi Picoult and her new novel Second Glance on her website at www.jodipicoult. com.au

Available for $20.66 from Seek Books - purchase now!

Join in the discussion of the book on the Real Mums Retell Therapy Book Club

There was a great article in yesterdays Sydney Morning Herald’s Opinion pages - Mummy wars are not a choice use of words.

It touched on that whole ‘thing’ between your stay-at-home-mums versus your off-to-work-mums, and the ‘natural’ birthers versus the caesarean-choosers etc etc and how discussions around any of these topics - and more - can dissolve into near fisticuffs between factions.

Or, at least, removal from Christmas card lists, and you can forget your invite to Hayden’s third birthday.

There’s a fabulous comment in this article by Monica Dux:

The truth is, most mothers make the same choice - they choose to do the best that they can, under the circumstances in which they find themselves.

Hear, hear! Sometimes, our circumstances do dicate, to some degree, our choices. I’d also add in that some of us choose what we’re doing because, well, we like it. Some mummies do like going off to work. And some like staying at home. And that’s ok.

The whole ‘choice’ thing is often excluded from these Wars of Words, too. Not everyone has a choice, even in circumstance. Some Mums don’t choose caesareans, and some don’t choose to bottle feed for example. Physiological factors may be an issue, as may psychological or other. But when these factors are brought up they’re usually followed by a but. A big one at that.

“Oh, I know that some women have to have a caesarean, BUT …” and then go the attack about women who do, chose to, etc.

The unfortunate thing about this is that even those with no choice, and those who do choose based on circumstance, are often left feeling as though they’re in the wrong. A Bad Mother.

And no one wants to feel that.

The Wars, I feel, are also fuelled by media reports and research. And perhaps the way the media reports the research.

We all know the media love a good, controversial story, and how much more controversial a story is there than the way you Mummy?

Whack in a bit of “latest research indicates” and you’ve got yourself a Mummy Storm brewing. The evangelists, who take the research to heart, will get on their high horses, using it as ‘proof’ of how bad a mummy you are. Those of us who do just what the research says we don’t, even in miniscule amounts, find more proof of our bad mamma status. We hop right up onto our high horses in defence … thus, the Mummy Wars.

Whatever the issue at stake, each and every Mum is going to have her own opinion of it. The SAHM will agree that being at home with your kids makes for well adjusted and secure adults, whilst the working mum will agree that the kids have learnt independence and are just as well adjusted. Everyone will find something to back up their own story.

And as for the Word Wars?

I wonder … when we hop up on our high horses and defend our breastfeeding/bottlefeeding choice, drug filled/drug free birth and our child-free/child-filled days, who are we trying to convince?

Are we really about getting the other to agree with us for the benefit of their own children?

Or are we really just getting vocal in order to convince ourselves that we’re not really all that bad?

With the gap between child number two and child number three, I’ve completely forgotten about all those really important decisions you have to make.

Naming baby for a start - but I always had that pretty well handled.

Co-sleep or not? Breastfeed or bottle? Immunise or risk it?

Do I enrol them into high schoo now? (Probably a bit late for the older two, but no time like the present, hey?)

Can I have a glass of wine if I’m breastfeeding?

And then, the hardest decision of them all …

Do I stay in bed and sleep, or get up and have a shower?

I’d completely forgotten, and worse, forgotten how hard it was to make a decision at all.

My newest little man is 5 weeks old today.

Still a full week away from the Magical Six Week mark (whatever that is all about!)

But, am I in trouble. Big trouble. BIG, BIG TROUBLE.

Apart from the fact that I have deigned to give birth to another boy (evil woman that I am), I have been going out in public!

Lordy me! This, I am learning, is just not on.

Worse, not only have I been going out for walks, for my own enjoyment as well as to get my other children to school and kinder, I have been taking the baby with me!

BIG BIG BIG TROUBLE!

I have been stopped, over the last four weeks, by numerous neighbours, shop owners and people I have never before seen in my life, to enquire about the baby. What is it? (A boy? Ah, nevermind. You go for a girl this time!)

Is he a good baby?

No, he’s crap. Look at his arms, for a start - what is with that? They’re far to short and out of proportion. He looks ridiculous. And he won’t yet make his bed, set the table or pour me my wine and bring it to me. And, sheesh, I wish he’d learn to use his words!

What kind of question is that? Seriously?

Then, they turn on me. For several reasons …

• He’s three weeks old and already you take him out of the house?! No, no, no, no, no!
• Has he been blessed at church yet? No? And you’re taking him out? No, no, no, no, no.
• You’ve had him Christened already then? No? In my culture, we don’t take them out until they’ve been Christened. Its not acceptable to do that. No, no, no, no, no.
• You out of the house already?! In my culture, we stay in house for 2 months. 2 months! You stay in and relax, have women look after you. You should not be out. No, no, no, no, no.

Half the time I didn’t even know why I was in trouble for being out of the house, or worse, having the baby with me.

Once, I was even berated as I stood on the footpath literally just outside my front gate, holding the baby. A tirade:- he was a boy, he shouldn’t leave the house for 40 days, I should be in resting with my “women” looking after me, I shouldn’t be standing up … etc etc. I think I also got in trouble because he was wearing yellow and she was unable to determine his sex.

Most of the berating has been focussed on me being up and about, and out with the baby. These ‘cultures’ that I am told of are all about the new mother resting, recouperating and, apparently, having a load of support and other females around them to cook meals, clean and assist with the baby.

Nothing wrong with that. Apart from the fact that I, personally, would go completely nuts sitting around all day, and I do like a bit of a walk and sunshine (it keeps my rickets at bay), I have two other children that need caring for and getting to various places.

What I don’t have is womenfolk to do my bidding. Sure, I have support, but not in the practical sense, and not at the drop of a hat.

It’s a sad indictment of our society - all Western societies - that this care for the mother (new or otherwise) is in serious deficit, and non-existent for some. We live in a time where our once support group are now off trying to fend for themselves, working or traipsing off around the country in their very new and very expensive caravans.

They’re just not there for Us any more. Of course, we also live in a society where the above kind of behaviour is supported and encouraged, and a majority of the support services and parenting books that we mums have available to us are all about looking after the kids.

(Unfortunately, in many cases, they also add to Mother Guilt because we’re not doing things “right”. Probably because we haven’t been looked after, or had time to rest, and we’re tired, stressed and wouldn’t mind that glass of wine that gets us into more trouble - but that’s a whole other post).

In this culture, getting out of the house as soon as is humanly possible, hair brushed and tracksuit spotless, is encouraged. In fact, if you don’t, then there’s something wrong.

Of course, it is also a very sad indictment of our society that people feel that they are quite within their rights to stand out the front of your house and tell you what a terrible mother you are for wanting to get some fresh air and excercise. And voice various other opinions …

Urgh! Last month left us with loads to whine about.

Sore nipple, sick kids, and worse, school holidays!

We’ve all had something to deal with, and loads to complain about. Not a lot of time to think, however.

So, I felt a wine with lots of “S’s” in it would be the way to go. Something nice, mellow and relaxing … a South Bay Shiraz 2006 from South Australia

Described as

Big licks of spicy shiraz with loads of blackberry fruit and judicious use of Oak to compliment the wine by providing structure. Tannins here are just right , not overly aggressive. tart or dusty but as Goldilocks said ” Just right!”  The mouthfeel here is the surprise packet at this cost as it provides a lovely long lingering finish and shows excellent value for money. So fill the cellar and poor it any night of the week and enjoy!

Sounds to me like just the ticket for soothing sore nipples (although we don’t recommend you rub it on your nipples before feeding baby. That would just be a waste of good wine!), dealing with sick kids and surviving the school holidays.

Better still, it’s only $7.99 a bottle from the Real Mums Wine Club

(for white wine lovers, you could always try last month’s recommendation, the South Bay Sauvignon Blanc, not from South Australia but South Africa - it’s only $7.99 a bottle too.)

Remember, the Wine Club is free to join, and you run the risk of gaining yourself a bottle of Penfold’s just by signing up!

Make sure you tell us what you think of the wines, too.

And check out this month’s Wine Club Special Offers

(We do recommend that you enjoy your wine whilst drinking responsibly!)

I am now - despite cries of disagreement from seemingly the rest of the world - the mother of three boys.

According to just about everyone else in the world, despite the gorgeousness and “goodness” of my new addition, I must be somewhat disappointed. Surely I was desperate for a girl? And how am I going to cope with yet another boy?!

I literally had a neighbour recently stop me in the street, ask if I had had a girl, then wave her hand, state “Nevermind” and walk away without even asking to take a look at a week old baby, let alone any details!

You see, the thing is, I grew up around boys. My dad cared for us, mostly, during the day and I had two brothers. I married into a family dominated by boys (six of them, including my husband). I’ve always had better relationships with males. They’re less complicated. Although they are more bouncy.

Growing up, I didn’t have a particularly good relationship with my mother. In all honestly, the possibility of having a girl frightened the bejeezus out of me. Then I wouldn’t know how to cope.

Sadly, I see so many Mother’s of Boys (and, for the most part, a girl or two in tow as well) struggling with the concept of “boy”. Friends of mine rushing their testosterone bundles off to paediatricians and child psychologists due to their boisterousness, their obsessions with machinery and their need to run, bounce, climb and yell. Loudly!

Women pulling their hair out about their boys not sitting still, getting up to mischief and not enjoying a day out shoe shopping.

Its something I’ve not dealt with myself. Perhaps its my exposure to the male species over most of my lifespan that I can view this behaviour, shake my head and say “bloody idiot”, whilst accepting and loving my boys unconditionally. Perhaps it’s the relationship I had with my mother.

Perhaps its just that Barbie Pink makes me physically ill after prolonged periods.

Who knows?

Chris Owen, a fellow mother of three boys, although hers are much more growed up than mine (and Mummy Mentor to me, although she doesn’t know it yet :)) wrote about Boys Will Be Boys - And So What? on the blog, Joyful Jubilant Learning.

She offers a number of valuable lessons in this post, but the bit that struck a cord for me was this:

Rearing sons has taught me to always be prepared to be surprised.  In other words - I can’t be in control.  (Not a concept that a control-freak mother likes to consider!)

What I have discovered is that loving them without expectations, and just the way they are, is the only way to set them free and stay sane at the same time.

It’s a philosophy I have lived with with my boys, including my husband pre-kids (but that’s a different story). I think its a great piece of advise and one all Mothers of Boys would do well to take on board.

My life - as chaotic and mayhemish as it is at times - is, at the same time, relaxed and filled with fun. I embrace the fact that boys need chaos, they need to run, jump and climb.

I embrace that they sometimes need their Mummy, that Mummy Cuddles can fix a lot of hurts, and they’re no less a ‘man’ for asking for one. This has given them confidence and security.

Accepting this is who they are and just ‘what they do” has given me peace. In more ways than one. Peace, despite the noise levels boys need to function at.

They are, after all, not referred to as Bouncing Baby Boys for nothing.