Musings

I'm not really here

2008-08-03T20:08:00.002+12:00

I've moved!

Originally I was running two life-related blogs but it just hasn't been kept up. My new / other one is here: http://thewonder.livejournal.com

Christmas Wish Lists

2007-11-14T14:07:00.001+13:00

My wish list for Christmas 2007....

... Bella Mama pregnancy / postnatal massage package
... Sony Handycam digital video camera

New Baby Wishlist...

... Safe N Sound Meridian AHR carseat
... Nature Baby Wool Cot Mattress
... Single Mattress for Z's big bed

Wishlist for Zamara...

... Picture books
... Toddler table / chairs
... Duplo
... Rocking Horse, preferably wooden
... Outdoors playset, swing etc
... Little People sets
... Pumpkin Patch gift voucher

Tagged

2007-04-18T22:39:00.000+12:00

"We all have things about our friends that make us slightly envious.

Not in a bad way, but in a 'Wow! I wish I had that person's hair/eyes/money/relationship/toenails/whatever' way.

So tell me what about me makes you envy me. . . then if you feel like it, post this in your blog and see what makes me envious of you."

Occupation = Homemaker

2007-04-12T23:10:00.001+12:00

Today has been highly changeable and largely cruddy weather here, and the first day that's felt somewhat wintery. It started out gusty and rainy, and finished gusty, rainy, with occasional downpours and even a hail storm. But in the middle there were fine bits - times where the wind dropped down to a breeze, the sun came out and the roads and driveway even dried off.

It hit me, as I was driving to the post shop today to post off some things I've sold on TradeMe, that when I worked - always in an office - I'd miss all that. I'd drive to work in the blustery rain, and drive back in the same, and therefore the 'whole day' was rainy and miserable. This despite the fact that in both office jobs I've worked at over here I've been reasonably near a large window, and when it cleared up, I could see that it had cleared up - but because it wasn't really even an option for me to be 'in' it, somehow it didn't count. Now that I'm a stay-at-home-mother, homemaker, housewife, lady who lunches, whatever you want to call it - now I know that we've had at least four seasons in one day, and on a swiftly rotating cycle at that. Today in fact I managed to get out and take a walk with Z in the stroller, and timed it just right in that while it was still quite crisp, it was sunny and dry and really was a lovely day, for that time when I was outside. I also took a bit of pleasure in the fact that not more than five minutes after we'd gotten home, it was raining again.

I'm starting to think that my current 'job' - my life of trying to create a healthy, safe, welcoming, and loving home, is a lot like today's weather. There's a lot of bits about this job description that are quite crappy - literally. The 24/7 schedule, with no time off allowed for sickness or vacations, is demanding and enough to depress even the heartiest of people. However, when you look closely, there's lots of little breaks - time when she's sleeping, or that 20 minutes when out with coffee with another mom, that allows downtime here and there so it doesn't feel like such a constant battle. And then there's the bouts of true sunshine - when my daughter laughs at me holding clothepegs in my mouth or dancing around like an idiot - or when I walk into her room after she's had a sleep and her face just lights up at the sight of me - or that determined and excited crawl she breaks into when she's off on an "adventure" - these are the moments I work for. These are the times that melt your heart, the sunny bits within the day that a different person, in a different situation, wouldn't even see. These are the moments I live for.

Grace

2007-03-31T23:16:00.001+12:00

Grace is not something that I am good at.

When I woke up this morning I tried to concentrate on the positive, to start the day ready to take on the world, or at least the housework and baby.

But, truth be told, I was warm, cozy, and had been in the middle of a very realistic, good dream. I told myself I was thankful to wake up, and thankful that Zamara was awake, because of course I'd worry if she wasn't making noise like usual. And we started the day.

At noon hubby was lolling about unshowered and heading off to his computer. I was stripping the bed and doing the laundry. I told myself I was thankful that we have a comfortable bed and enough bed linen that I don't need to worry about getting everything dry on the same day.

At two o' clock, when hubby asked why I couldn't wait until Z had woken up from her nap to go out (and thus making him look after her) I told myself I was thankful that I was in a steady relationship with my daughter's husband. I told myself I was thankful I had the choice.

At five 'o clock, when Z was shrieking (happy but loud) and I had a splitting headache I told myself that I was thankful that we live so close to our inlaws. I told myself I was thankful we have a good relationship and thankful they enjoy looking after her as needed.

At six thirty as I was making Z's dinner while hubby played computer games I told myself I was thankful to have enough food to feed my daughter and thankful to have the skills and ability in which to do it.

At seven thirty when hubby offered to pop to the grocery store for a few essentials like milk and eggs I told myself I was thankful that we had the money for the couple items and transport to get there and back. I told myself I was thankful we lived in a metro area where going to the supermarket after seven o' clock on a weekend is second nature.

At eight thirty when hubby returned home and asked why hadn't I started dinner I told myself I was thankful he'd arrived home safely.

At nine, as dinner baked in the oven, hubby played computer games, and I cleaned up the kitchen I admit that I grumbled to myself. Just a little bit.

At ten, as I sat down at my computer to eat my dinner and hubby moved from his computer to in front of the television and said "you're on the computer again?" I admit I grumbled. Perhaps aloud.

So now it is eleven o' clock. Hubby is asleep in front of the television. I have cleaned up the dinner plates, loaded and started the dishes, collected the recycling and wiped down the kitchen work surfaces.

And I'm thinking that I'm really not very good at grace at all.

I need to work less on telling myself that I am thankful and more on being thankful.

Change of Perspective

2007-03-30T21:54:00.000+12:00

Today I went to a Kid's Cafe, which is a community project being run in order to give parents a spot of relief a couple times a week - the parents relax with a coffee whilst the kids can participate in an organised activity. Zamara's not old enough to get any benefit from the activity, so it was largely just like playgroup for us. I sat and knit while Zamara played. Afterwards, I decided that since we were out, I was hungry, and Zee was still in a decent mood, that we'd go to Ark, a local cafe run as a 'parents cafe' with decent food for both adults and kids, and a very child friendly atmosphere with lots of things to keep them occupied whilst the parents relax. All in all, much the same idea as the first, but with a different motivation (making money!)

When I arrived, there were a couple coffee groups just finishing up. All of them had younger babies than Zee, and nearly all of them were kitted out. There were Mountain Buggies left right and centre, with designer nappy bags and plush toys dotting everything, including for newborns that looked too young to get any benefit from toys yet. And as I sat there, alone with Zee, with a nappy bag still dotted with spilled food I haven't gotten around to cleaning and a daughter in second hand clothes, the only thing I could see was everything I didn't have. Mountain Buggies are the SUVs of prams, in every way. They're a status symbol that aren't symbolic of true status, just 'the look'. They're not a sports car, nor the best performing on the market, nor anywhere near the most expensive. But they're the ones that are touted in a public display of affluenza. And I don't have one.

But as the day progressed, I realised that I'd had it all wrong. I am not envious. I don't want what they have, for I am grateful for me.

I am grateful that I have learned the art of babywearing, so that I always have Zee close to me and near eye level. We can experience things together and easily bounce our joy off of each other.

I am grateful that I was able to eat a wholesome meal and pay for it with money in the bank.

I am grateful that I have a solid, reliable car to transport me wherever I need to go.

I am grateful that I have a smiley, cheery, easy going baby that loves going out with her mommy and experiencing new people, new situations, and new things.

I am grateful that I have a hobby that fulfills my creative need as well as allowing me to outfit myself and my family in quality clothes.

I am grateful that I have a wide support network of friends throughout the country so that wherever I happen to live in New Zealand, I will always have some friends nearby.

I am grateful that I have computers with internet so that I can communicate with these friends around the clock, and that someone is always there when I need them.

I am grateful that I have food in the cupboards and the knowledge to turn odd ingredients into tasty and wholesome food.

I am grateful for my life of abundance.

I am grateful for my body, which can transport me in small amounts, through bursts of energy, but that can also allow me to freely exercise and travel by my own methods.

I am grateful for my intelligence, that allows me to create an income whilst still staying home with my daughter and doing what I think is right.

I am grateful for my husband, who stands by me throughout, during my ups and my downs, and is a steadfast support.

I am grateful for my daughter, who everyday makes me a better person, and gives me the motivation to continually improve still more.

I am grateful for my health, which allows me to do all the things above and untold amounts more.

Age Appropriate Behaviour

2007-02-20T21:15:00.000+13:00

On the forum I frequent most, The Nappy Network, like many parenting boards, there is a lot of talk about age appropriate behaviour. "At what age will my child do .... ?"

So now it's my turn.

My child doesn't seem to be developing on schedule.... certainly not on average with peers.

At what age will my child sit in a seat properly? I know plenty of others that can by this age, but I've certainly never seen it here.

At what age will my child tidy up toys when finished with them? I've been told such things are possible, but I rarely see it here, and when I do I'm really not sure it's deliberate.

Are children always so easily amused? We have a Tiny Love play-gym - my child will sit and kick or bang the foot / hand pad in order to play the same cycle of three tunes and lights over and over again. I've grown bored with it - am I just easily annoyed?

At what age will my child speak intelligibly? I hear grunts, moans, whinges and coos and squeals but it's hard to make out words.

My "child" is twenty-nine. Please tell me he'll reach these milestones soon?

A piece of work

2007-02-13T20:57:00.000+13:00

Today I lost a crown on my tooth.

Well, I guess I didn't really lose it - it's sitting here, right next to my laptop. But not in my mouth.

This is along with the molar tooth, previously filled, which is now slowly crumbling in my mouth - at least a quarter of it is missing, but from the feel of it the whole center is missing and it's just an outer shell.

Plus the wisdom tooth that has crumbled to the gum line and will likely need a complicated surgical extraction.

All, of course, on different sides of the mouth - both sides of my upper jaw, and one on my lower.

I know there are other cavities as well. One is visible on one of my front teeth (I believe it was previously filled but the filling has come out) and several are not but I know they're there.

The three main teeth will probably cost between $2000 - $5000 NZD to fix. Not counting all the 'small' fillings.

This for a household that is just barely making ends meet.

The only small upside is that I'll likely lose weight. The downside is that it's because I can't eat without pain and anxiety at the moment.

I really, really hate my life right now.

2007-01-02T15:47:00.000+13:00

Updated New Years Resolutions

Mind, Body, Spirit

Be shampoo-free
15 minutes of intentional physical activity daily
Brush teeth daily
15 minutes of engaging mental activity daily
Wean myself off of caffeine and sodas
Spend more quality time with my hubby
No watching TV whilst Zamara is awake
Read to Zamara every day
Be in bed by 11pm every night
Clean up vocabulary

Home

Bed made every morning
Kitchen sink shining every night
Begin a veggie garden
Start a compost bin / heap
Establish and practice FlyLady routines
Declutter – via FreeCycle, TM, etc

Money

Compost within reason (exceptions – health, food, nappies, raw materials)
Make rather than buy where realistic (e.g., food, knitted items, toys, possibly clothes / nappies?)
Organize, and stick to, a budget
Establish a savings account and plan for Zamara

Complete Convert - A List of Resolutions

2006-10-29T18:26:00.000+13:00

The year is nearly over for me.

I leave the country (for a long visit in California) on November 17th, and so I'm considering that to be the end of the year, in terms of "normal life" here. Therefore I'm getting my affairs in order, and preparing my list of resolutions. Which, for once, I'm fairly serious about. I realise, of course, that I don't have to wait until the new year to start - but it makes a nice break between the "old" and the "new" and furthermore makes a great baseline.

The Resolutions:
1) Live as a Compactor with perhaps one or two minor tweaks. Basically I want to not buy anything new, except for food, underwear and healthy/safety/medical/hygiene items. I'm not sure whether buying wool (or other "raw" materials) would count but I don't think it should, and nappies may become an issue as well. Probably a good thing that I'm not planning to start until the new year, because I think this one could probably do with some refining (mentally at least) before then.
2) Be completely caffeine-free by the end of June.
3) Clear out all of "my" excess clutter from the house. If I don't use it and/or don't love it, it goes.
4) Keep Zamara's baby albums up to date.
5) Use the car no more than two days a week if at all possible. (Exceptions to this would be for work, particularly Creative Memories classes)
6) Work out a way to live within our means. (May well be an ongoing trial-and-error...)

I'm sure I'll come up with more before then.... but for right now, it's a good start :-D

Informed Consent

2006-10-26T01:04:00.000+13:00

When I was growing up, it was implicitly understood that science was a Good Thing. There were two main reasons for this as I understood it, though I'm not sure there was ever a solid discussion about it. One was simply that Science = Technology = Progress and Progress was always a good thing. The other was that Science was Education's best friend, and Education in my household was The Most Important Thing.

And yet, now that I'm an adult, I'm finding that more and more I turn my back on "progress" and strive to live 'naturally'. This manifests itself in a variety of ways.

* I use modern cloth nappies instead of disposables
* I use modern "mama pads" instead of disposables
* As a household, we're in the process of going organic on all our fresh produce
* Natural and homeopathic remedies are relied on at least as much as Western "medicinal" remedies

And most recently, I've (mostly) made the decision against giving my daughter the MeNZB vaccine.

The ironic thing is, in regards to every decision above, the decision was not simply a negative reaction towards science. Rather, each decision was made after much reading and research on said topics. And, granted, some decisions were far easier to make than others. Still, every time I make a decision that seems so anti-science, I surprise myself. There's a little part of me that wonders "how did I get here?"

Then, of course, I remember. I got here because this is the point I was raised to get to - the point where I can do the research and get the education and information. It's that information that allows me to make a truly informed decision about how I will lead my life. It's not turning my back on my upbringing... but rather, a continuation of it.

All I Want for Christmas...

2006-10-17T19:34:00.000+13:00

Dear Santa,

I've been a really good girl this year. Technically I've only had half a year to show off what a wonderful girl I am, but I'm only little so that shouldn't count against me. I've learned how to be wonderful and charming when people come to adore me, and can even laugh when people make monkey faces at me. I've showed my parents that I can roll over, and am even clever enough to know not to do it when prompted.

For Christmas this year, these are my top wishes:
Babylegs - I really like these because they allow my bottie to get some air when I'm awake, but my legs can still stay warm! Plus they'll grow with me, and even help to protect my knees when I figure out the crawling thing.
Fuzzibunz Cloth Nappies (or the NZ specific website with online store)- I'm almost a size medium in these, and some of my older friends report that they last for a really long time; I'll probably still be wearing them well after I'm walking!
Books! Both nice ones for mummy to read to me, and hard wearing (board or cloth) books for me to explore. (Mommy says to mention that I already have The Very Hungry Caterpillar)
Clothes from size 6 months and up (often labelled as size 0). Mommy says lavender looks really nice on me.
College fund (or start thereof)

I reckon that my Mommy's also been a really good mommy this year, and I've certainly been sure to test her! Therefore her top wishes are:
Yarn and wool - the KnitPicks stuff is really nice and I know I've seen her drooling over the Knit Picks Options needles
Anything from her Amazon Wish List
And of course she always appreciates money!

Thank you Santa, I know this is the beginning of a great relationship!

Love,

Zamara

Paranoia

2006-09-19T23:22:00.000+12:00

I'm starting to figure out that at any time a strong issue is concerned around parenting, there will be at least two, very hotly debated, sides.

And if that issue has associated research that's even vaguely inconclusive, things get out of hand.

My interest of late is regarding SIDS.

It started with a creeping paranoia, just a back-of-the-mind niggle that it 'could' happen. As far as I knew I did things right - Zamara always sleeps on her back, isn't around any form of smoke, and is breastfed. After that, I figured there wasn't much else I could do as those were the only things "proven" to reduce incidents of SIDS.

But being the honor student I am, I started doing research anyway. That's where things get foggy.

SIDS has no known, proven, reliable, cause. That is, after all, the point. If a clear cause is found, it's not attributed to SIDS. Apparently what this also means is that everybody and their brother, whether medically qualified or not, has an opinion on what does cause SIDS. And those opinions are rampant with conspiracy theories.

I did find articles - mostly geared towards Joe Schmo the parent - stating exactly what I thought I knew. Put baby on her back and don't smoke.

But I also found articles saying everything else. There were those saying that breastfed babies do have a better chance, and those that say there's no evidence to suggest that. There's some thought that babies sleeping too deeply (and anything that would cause that) causes SIDS. There's others that reckon it's toxic gases being admitted from "nasty chemicals" in anything remotely around the crib - baby's clothes, bedclothes, mattresses, bumpers, toys, even the surface of couches. There's a whole other group of people who swear SIDS is directly related to vaccinations and keeping babe un-immunized is a guaranteed way to prevent SIDS. (Sure, babes will just die of meningicocal disease instead... ) There's evidence suggesting that sucking during sleep (on a breast, a pacifier, or a hand/finger) prevents SIDS and still more evidence saying it's 'inconclusive'. There are those that suggest sleeping baby in a hammock (in supine position) is safe, and of course the standard 'inconclusive' research. Similarly, "they" can't even agree on whether breastfeeding reduces the risk or not. I've read evidence that says that co-sleeping provides the lowest incidence of SIDS and still more that says to never, ever, co-sleep because it's so "dangerous". I've even talked to parents (on bulletin boards) who suggest that back sleeping isn't the safest because then baby will just choke on his/her spit-up. (Which research does agree is wrong, but there's no arguing with some people...)

And you would not believe the amount of products for sale each claiming they prevent SIDS. These run the gamut from the "Safe-T-Sleep" wraps to organic bedding to chiropractic care to plastic mattress wrapping to baby hammocks to baby monitors.

I began my informal investigation hoping to find answers to allay my mounting paranoia about SIDS. The more I find the more I realise that for the moment, there really aren't any answers that can 100% guarantee a safe baby. However, applying a healthy dose of common sense seems to do the trick for most people.

And strangely enough, in the end I'm comforted by sheer numbers. SIDS is still the leading cause of death in the developed world of infants aged 1 - 12 months. However, incidence of SIDS is in reality incredibly low. Even in NZ, which has an overall high rate of SIDS, the official rate is around 0.8 for every 1000 live births. Similarly, she doesn't have any unpreventable risk factors - she's not low birthweight, wasn't premature, is of the right ethnicity (though whether that truly has to do with ethnicity rather than socio-economic status is undetermined) and even the right gender, as SIDS happens less often in girls.

The bottom line, really, is this. I didn't find out what causes SIDS because the jury is still out on that. But I did find out that I'm doing everything I can do to prevent it, and I have both luck and sheer numbers on my side. And if I now have a very expensive, movement-detecting, baby monitor as well.... we can chalk that up to peace of mind. And perhaps very clever marketing.

Learn Something Every Day

2006-09-17T21:29:00.000+12:00

Things most people don't know about me:

1. I feel like a big kid in an adult world. I am afraid that one of these days, someone's going to find me out.
2. I have to make a concerted effort to be social. When I am, I enjoy it, but left to my own devices I would be a loner.
3. I like dogs more than I like cats, but cats are easier to live with.
4. I am obsessive but not to the point of dysfunction.
5. I hate small talk with those I don't know well but don't mind it with those I'm close with.
6. When I really care about getting something right, I usually self-sabatoge.

A case of the Mondays

2006-09-11T17:31:00.000+12:00

I should be getting dinner sorted but I really don't wanna.

I have somewhere I'm supposed to go tonight, but I really don't wanna. I'm able to take Z with me, but I still don't wanna. (Though considering it's a group of people whom I don't know, taking her might help... Z's a great icebreaker)

I'd much rather stay on The Nappy Network and/or knit (or both!) tonight.

Guess I'm suffering from an overall lack of motivation.... at least, motivation to do the things I'm supposed to do vs. those I want to do!

It's a tough life...

2006-09-07T12:45:00.000+12:00

... when you're a cat.

At least, when you're a cat in a house with a baby.

Spike has been sulking for the past 24 hours or so. And possibly rightly so.

He's a sweet cat. He's also very much a one-person cat, and I'm his person. Unfortunately for him, I'm also Zamara's person, and she cries louder.

He's come up to me and curled up in my lap, contented just to sit there and purr while I play on my laptop, and right as he settles in Zamara needs tending to.

He's sat on the only clear spot on the couch to be shoved off when I need to feed Z.

He's tried to follow me from room to room only to be kicked when he gets underfoot.

He can't even get decent sleep at night. The other night he was curled up on my legs, and then I needed to get up to feed Z. Even though I feed her lying down, by the time I got back in bed he'd shifted into my spot and had to be 'nudged' out.

So now he wanders around looking vaguely affronted.

It's a tough life being a cat.

Branching Out

2006-09-05T11:33:00.000+12:00

For those of you with lots of time on your hands... I've started a new blog.

Coulda Shoulda Woulda

2006-09-05T00:34:00.000+12:00

Last night I went to bed with a mental to-do list for today. Don would be at work (and thus out of my way) and Z, I figured, sleeps most of the time anyway. Plenty of time to do what needed to get done.

My main goal was to completely clear out the bedroom of all clutter. Cleaning it as well (i.e., dusting, vaccuming) would be an added bonus but honestly was low on the list, at least for today. The main thing was, I wanted a presentable bedroom. One that felt open and welcoming and not shrinking and suffocating, for either myself or hubby.

So, today. Today I:

Emptied the dishwasher
Loaded and ran another load of dishes
Washed a load of nappies
Hung stained nappies in the sun (as UV rays are the best stain remover) and tumble dried the rest
Washed a load of baby clothes / wraps / gear
Hung load of baby stuff on line (and later brought in)
Stripped the bed down to the bare mattress
Aired the mattress and rotated before returning it
Washed the mattress protector (in a load by itself)
Washed the bed linen
Tumble dried the bed linen - twice, as the first time was very splotchy
Put the sheets and blankets on the cot "properly"
Moved the racking / shelf unit that Z's things are stored on into her room
Repositioned Z's change table and moved all the nappies to the storage compartment on the bottom of the change table
Reorganised a box of my books-to-be-read (though there's at least as many left to do)
Cleared underneath the bed
Posted flickr photos
Rounded up 3 pairs of footwear to donate to Women's Refuge
Made bed up with clean linen

All in between feeding, changing, and playing with Zamara. Also managed to find and heat myself some leftover pizza, and later made a box of macaroni and cheese for my dinner.

And yet I feel completely unproductive. I look around the bedroom and see a bigger mess than when I started. And I have no idea how I'm going to organise it all.

Developments, Progress and Observations

2006-09-04T00:32:00.000+12:00

I've been wondering a lot lately about the direction of this blog. Interestingly, I haven't been doubting keeping it - I've found that as rare as I use it, I really like having the space to dash down my thoughts and see if I can make any sense of them. But at the same time I've been in school long enough that to write without having an overall driving theme just seems weird to me. So I've thought about specifically making this a baby blog, with Z's latest happenings and developments, or about making it closer to a day-in-the-life blog, or about making it into a knitting blog. At the moment though I'm thinking I'll just keep it as it is, and tell the theme police that live in my head where to shove it :-D

In light of that, here are some random observations I've had in the past 24 hours or so:

My pelvic floor muscles are not what they used to be
Knitting has zen-like properties - but not when using double-pointed needles
How soon Z spits up on her clothes has an inverse relationship to how much I want to keep said outfit looking cute
Having a functional tumble dryer guarantees good weather
It is probably time to get rid of some books
It is past time for hubby to get rid of some computers
Drive-thru's were invented for mothers of young children. And a drive-thru bank or pharmacy is NOT a weird idea!
Giving is catching :-)
Colds are catching, too :-(
Sometimes being sick is a blessing in disguise.
A new mother who hasn't showered for days becomes oblivious to her own smell.
Her husband does not

Time for some lighthearted fun..

2006-08-24T21:20:00.000+12:00

Thanks to Princess LadyBug, who tagged me, and Focus, who should have.

10 years ago:
Funny timing of this - I was thinking about this the other day, as this very month marks the ten year anniversary from when hubby and I "met" online. I'd just started emailing my (now) DH, after being given his email address from a mutual friend who thought we had a lot in common. She didn't mean it romantically, and I remember that I was quick to set things straight, and told him he was much too old for me, so he shouldn't get any ideas.

I think the cliche "famous last words" would be applicable here.

5 years ago:
I was preparing for my wedding, working two (part-time) jobs. I was in heavy denial about what moving country actually required in terms of packing things up.

1 year ago:
I was fighting a rapidly losing battle at balancing life. I was working two (occasionally three) part-time jobs, at University full-time (though not accomplishing much) and trying to manage a household, even if that household only consisited of me and hubby. In the end, all the balls I was attempting to juggle ended up crashing down, but it taught me some valuable lessons.

Now:
I'm married with a 5-week old. I don't get enough sleep, I don't get enough to eat, largely because I really don't have enough time in the day. I don't have enough money. But I'm loving it. Of course, I'd love to win the lotto and have someone here to take care of me but I wouldn't trade Zamara, and anything / everything she comes with, for the world.

5 songs I know all the words to:
Studying Stones, by Ani Difranco
Edelweiss
One Week, by the Barenaked Ladies (okay, I know them, I just can't keep up with them)
Bohemian Raphsody by Queen
Dilate, by Ani Difranco

Not bad for variety ;-D

5 snacks I love and wish I could eat:
Taco Bell (I'm a cheap date)
An apple martini (okay, maybe not so cheap)
A peanut butter and jelly sandwich (hubby and I are having an ongoing debate whether I can eat this or not, as he insists it'll give Zamara a peanut allergy... )
Biscuits and gravy
A banana split, particularly if it was made by my buddy Verdatha

5 Places I'd run away to:
California
Scotland
Waiheke Island or Whanaki (it's a toss up)
New York City

Can't think of number 5.

5 things I'd never wear:
Not sure there is anything, in the right context.
But probably not a bikini, at least until I figure out a way to hide / get rid of these stretch marks

5 favorite TV shows:
Survivor
America's Next Top model
E.R.
Desperate Housewives
Dr. Phil

5 greatest joys:
Zamara
Hubby
Spike and Sarah
Knitting
The computer, as it allows me a connection with family and friends in the USA, and brings me fun in the form of games, and knowledge in the form of the internet (at least some pages... )
Scrapbooking

That's six, but I don't care. One can't have too many joys.

5 favorite toys:
Hubby
The computer
Camera

and I can't really think of any more...

I'm not tagging anyone else because the two main people I'd tag have already done it :-)

Pity Party

2006-08-20T09:48:00.000+12:00

I'm feeling sorry for myself today. I recognize that I have many many things in my life to be thankful for. But sometimes I can't help lamenting over everything else.

We are having financial difficulties at the moment. This is a combination of several factors:

Reduced income. I'm getting maternity leave pay but it's only about 70% of what I was getting working full time. And it runs out at the end of this month.
Having a baby, and the costs therein incurred. Even the little things like toiletries add up. Especially when treating the most stubborn nappy rash known to man.
Hubby's incestant need to upgrade the house. Granted, most of that is coming from his side of the finances - but now that we're reducing down to one primary income, his side of the finances needs to stretch a lot further. And with the amount of loans he's got out at the moment, there's virtually no flexibility.
Piss-poor budgeting skills and an ostritch in the sand mentality. Both of us are guilty of this but neither of us know much about what to do to change. I've been pushing for a hard and in-depth look at our finances for several months now but all I'm getting from hubby is "yeah, we should do that", but no actual commitment.
A champagne lifestyle but a kool-aid income.
Mounting debt and the costs this incurs.

So I'm having a pity party, and virtually everything I'm lamenting at the moment is tied to money.

I'm feeling sorry for myself and my family because there's no feasible way that I can get professional photographs of my daughter at this age, and for that matter can't really even afford the printed-off digital snapshots.

I regret the fact that all of Zamara's things - many of which are valued gifts - need to, by necessity, be shoved in bags and piled in cardboard boxes because we have no storage system available for her, and no money to buy even a cheap Warehouse one.

I'm sorry for myself because I can't afford the post-natal massage I promised myself I would get within the first six weeks post-partum.

I regret the fact that while we're generously being gifted a flight out to the States for Baby's First Christmas, we have no money for anything, including even daily food, while we're there, and will in fact significantly struggle to pay the standard monthly bills back here while we're there.

I'm sorry for myself because it's apparent that I will have to give up my gym membership despite the fact I've looked forward to having that "me" time that would allow me to get out of the house for a controlled and short amount of time, and to do something good for myself at the same time.

I regret the fact that it's becoming obvious that I will have to sell things valuable to me - my books, music collection, beanie babies, and probably even a computer - likely at far less than they're worth, to even keep afloat.

I'm miserable because despite being out of most of our staples, we can't afford to go grocery shopping. There's frozen meat in the freezer, but we have no bread, no cheese, no milk, and only one or two eggs. We're out of pepper and very low on salt. We haven't had any form of fresh produce for over a week now, and there's only about one serving of frozen veggies left. Our canned supplies are rapidly depleting as well - at the moment it's a choice of canned apricots, refried beans, or beetroot. And worst of all, we're out of ice cream.

But mostly I'm feeling absolutely tragic because it's apparent that I'm going to have to bring in an income. And since despite my best efforts, I can't for the life of me find something realistic that I can do at home, I'm going to have to leave my daughter, sooner rather than later. It's this need which has brought to light a greater realisation - how much I truly and deeply abhor the idea of leaving my daughter at all, let-alone with someone outside the family.

Zamara Jade - 17

2006-07-23T15:05:00.000+12:00

Zamara Jade - 17
Originally uploaded by KiwiWonder.

On Monday evening, July 17th, as I was 39 weeks and 1 day pregnant, my waters broke around 5:15 or so. After *finally* getting some of the gushing / leaking under control (enough to come out of the bathroom at least) we rang the midwife, who said that I should try to get some sleep, a bit to eat, and that labour would 'probably' start spontaneously sometime tonight, and to give her another ring if it hadn't started in earnest by morning. (and of course I'm to ring once contractions get regular - possibly several times - to help her judge when to go in to the hospital)

I also rang Jen, the doula to put her on notice, though I didn't need her yet, and she said much the same - have a good dinner, take a walk, then have as much a sleep as possible, and ring when I need her support.

Don took the turkey roast I'd had defrosting in the fridge next door for Joy (his mother) to cook for us (as both of us figured I didn't need to worry about cooking dinner with all things considered) The two of them also properly installed our car seat (we'd had the anchor point installed professionally but hadn't actually set the seat up yet).

I rang my mother who, after an initial burst of extreme cluckiness, was able to talk a bit - just general chit chat and also baby talk. she kept the "my baby's having a baby!" stuff to a minimum which is good cause it embarrasses me (she can do that with grandma, anyways)

We threw some more stuff in the postnatal bag (some of which was only washed today, some of which had been here a ccouple days but just sitting outside the bag) and have the bag mostly ready, sitting by the door.

I watched a couple programs on TV, ate dinner when it arrived (don cooked the veggies), and drank some water. I read a bit, but wasn't actually tired. When the good programs finished on TV, I turned it off, turned off the light and tried to sleep. Don took his mom on a test drive of our car (as she's driving it in to meet us at the hospital after delivery, to help with the transfer) and picked up some more of the super-duper-thick pads that are somewhere between maternity pads and incontinence pads as I've been soaking through about one every two hours and really hadn't planned on needing so many as I was planning them for the postnatal period!

I paced around the house (deliberately) for about 15 minutes.

I went to bed around midnight and tried to sleep - did manage to get reasonably solid sleep from 12 - 1am, woke at 1 to minor contractions; though nothing too much stronger than average period pains. I took some Panadol (equivalent to Tylenol) as was reccommended by my midwife, largely in the hopes of being able to get more sleep. I ‘rested’ from 1 til about 3:30am but didn’t really sleep, mostly due to excitement / anxiety rather than any real pain. Roughly around 3am contractions were noticeably stronger. They were still quite manageable, but the kind that required some focusing, rather than being able to cruise along undistracted. At this point it was fairly clear that the window for sleep had passed - and this is also around the time where Don (who’d been trying to sleep all night) finally conked out.

I shuffled around, trying to keep myself distracted, for roughly two hours, mostly reading (last minute cramming in my pregnancy / labour / baby books because I AM that anal) and kept reasonably horizontal (i.e., hands and knees) for most of the time as I’d heard that was often a good position to encourage baby to turn (as at last report she was still postrerior - i.e., her back to my back rather than the more favourable face to back) Around 5am I woke Don, for his support and distraction as well, and at this point gave up reading and other activities. Contractions were roughly 8 - 9 minutes apart, though still fairly irregular.

At 6:30am, contractions were only slightly closer together (5 - 7 minutes apart) but felt noticeably stronger, and we started making calls - one to the midwife, just to update her on the situation (as I wasn’t wanting to go to hospital yet) and one to the doula, as I figured now was the time to call on her services (allowing for the fact she’d need an hour or so to get everything sorted and get here, especially from across town in morning rush hour) She advised to stay as upright as possible (to help baby descend) and to make sure I was drinking. I’d gone through 1.5 litres of water already, but definitely took her advice on board.

Jen (the doula) arrived at 7:30 - gave me a small back massage (which was nice, though not crucial, as I wasn’t having too bad of back labour) and started me walking up and down the hallway (as parading along the very busy road we live on - again in rush hour, and in the cold - wasn’t appealing!) She gave Don tasks - everything from making sure he ate a solid breakfast to finalising the labour and post-partum baggage.

At 10:30 I’d had enough - the contractions were still roughly 5 minutes apart, sometimes longer, but were significantly more intense, often with accompanying back labour. I called the midwife and she wasn’t terribly impressed (i.e., I wasn’t in ANY danger of a home delivery) but we agreed to meet at the hospital and discuss options for additional pain management. We piled into Jen’s van (the in-laws were driving our car to the hospital later) and made the trip to the hospital. Once there, Lee (the midwife) took my vitals and strapped me to a monitor that charts contractions and fetal heartbeat, and did an exam. After all that, I was only 3 cm dilated, and the baby was still fairly high up and in the posterior position, which was just about the last thing I wanted to hear. Lee also noted that I was significantly dehydrated, and my blood pressure was quite low, so she hooked me up to an IV line and started a drip. After some discussion (and suitable reminders from Jen on all the reasons why I didn’t want one) I asked (begged?) for an epidural - particularly as Lee assured me that the current guy on duty was both readily available and her favorite. (“I’d trust him with my life” she said). He was called, and after finishing someone down the hall, came straight there to administer it. He explained the process, I had a contraction, then he administered the epidural, and finished just before the next one - by which time I was already feeling some relief. The guy really was a wizard - the epidural was fully in effect in less than 10 minutes, and I didn’t lose all feeling (I felt a “pressure” during contractions, but not actual pain) and I still had some limited movement of my hips and legs.

It was only then (and wisely so) that Lee said that it was now time to focus on the labour - specifically, on enhancing it, as it’d been 18 hours since my membranes had ruptured and I was still quite far from delivery. She asked for consent to administer syntocin (artificial oxytocin) to get contractions moving - both more regular and stronger - in the hopes of getting baby descended, the cervix dilated, and finally, delivery. It was a good job she waited, as I think I would have completely lost the plot if she’d suggested this while I was still just barely coping with what contractions I had - I definitely would have gotten the epidural then, but this way I didn’t feel at all ‘pressured’ into getting one, and I think I might have otherwise. So I agreed to the drug, and then focused on getting some sleep as I was beyond exhaustion.

I slept / dozed for around two and a half hours, at times vaguely aware of my surroundings, and at times, not. At one point in that time I woke up and asked for a top up of the epidural, as the pressure I felt was getting to the point of ‘work’ again. It was given (Lee was able to top it up herself) and I went back to sleep. Don also got some sleep, and sanity was restored to all.

I woke up to Lee hovering straight over me - whether waking me was the intended effect or not, I’m not sure. “It’s time to have a baby!” she said, to which I think I was rather stunned. She explained that while I was sleeping, the syntocin did it’s job - baby had dropped and rotated, and the cervix was at full dilation (though now that I was awake, she did an exam just to double check, but of course she was right). And - now it was time to push! She also reckoned that my epidural, based on when I’d asked for a top up, would likely be waning now, which was a good time to catch it. I’d be able to fully feel the prescence of contractions, without feeling the real pain of them. So - things were set up, and pushing was begun. Jen held one of my legs while Lee held the other, to recreate a squatting position, only lying semi-reclined. I was just told to act as if I needed to do a massive poo - which was easy really, as with the pressure of the contractions, that’s exactly what I felt like - and to push. They cheered me on (and guided me when to breathe) and I’m told I’m quite a good pusher. A mirror was set up, so I had full view of the proceedings (while pushing at least) which I hadn’t anticipated liking but in reality was quite glad for. Don was around too - another thing that I wasn’t expecting, as everyone who knows him knows he’s squeamish around the sight of blood, to the point of being known to pass out. At one point it became clear that I’d need an episiotomy (the cut in the perenium) as a tear was in the beginning, and Lee said that it looked like it’d quickly (in one push) go from the early phases to a third degree tear and likely wanted to prevent that, and control the direction (as episiotomies now days are usually done diagonally, rather than vertically) I didn’t watch while it was performed - though the sound effect wasn’t terribly wonderful either. Jen, however, did watch, and the process made her quite faint! After that, the baby’s head was out in fairly short order, followed on the next contraction by the rest of the body. Lee offered Don the chance to ‘catch’ the baby, but he declined. He still insists that the only reason he said no was that his hands were dirty and there wasn’t time to wash them. Knowing Don, I believe him (he’s slightly germ-phobic) so Lee eased the baby out and placed her on my belly, and shortly thereafter Don was offered the opportunity to cut the cord, which he accepted (and says now that doing so was cool and not gross at all.)

I looked for the sex, and saw we’d had a girl, which I told Donovan. She was completely covered in the white vernix, which Lee says is quite unusual for a 39 week baby - and thus she now thinks I was more like 38 weeks. Lee says that the amount of vernix was actually higher than average for 38 weeks even, but that the baby can’t have been younger than that, from all the other signs. Her APGAR scores were 9 and 10 respectively, so she was in great shape from the very get go. Her weight (which we took quite a bit later on) was 3.02 kg, or 6.65 lbs.

Don went rushing out to announce the birth to Joy (his mother) waiting in the hallway - then came rushing back in. “It is a girl, right?” We invited him to look for himself just to be sure, which he did, then announced it outside. They asked me if I minded if Joy came in, and I said she was free to - I wasn’t exactly “decent” but figured it was nothing she hadn’t seen before, and if she wasn’t bothered, I certainly wasn’t going to worry about it. n all the hubub, we realised later than the ‘official’ time of birth was never noted. When we brought Joy in she said she was fairly certain that she’d heard a cry right around 3:35, so we’ve used that as time of birth - in any case Lee knows that it was roughly 3:30.

We’ve named her Zamara Jade. It was the name both of us liked best for a girl - I originally was sure I’d created the name Zamara, but Don says he found it on a baby names website, with a meaning as well - but now that we’ve looked for it, we can’t find it. (We’ve found a couple sites that list it as a name, but none that have a meaning listed.) We’re both working on settling in to being home. She’s generally an extremely good natured baby, she sleeps well (and puts herself to sleep) as long as she’s not overtired, and was breastfeeding relatively well (considering both of us are still learning how) at Birthcare, but on our last night at Birthcare (and continuing on) she’s started having feeding dramas - mostly asking for feeds then refusing to latch on (or she latches, and takes a couple sucks, then cries and/or spits it out). I did consult the midwife on duty before we left Birthcare, who watched the whole process, and said that I was doing everything she’d reccomend, anyway. She said Zamara’s antics are a classic sign of having wind, but burping her doesn’t usually help. I’ve also discovered that Zamara is a much better feeder on my left side than my right, though I can usually get her to take the right side if I’m lying down (on my side). I hope to improve that in the next couple weeks, but right now I’m working on taking it slowly, as I know that learning to breastfeed really is a process rather than an overnight thing. I’m also working on establishing a rudimentry routine with her - one I’ve read in several different baby books now, the most known of which is the ‘Secrets of the Baby Whisperer’. Other than that, I’m concentrating on eating, drinking, and sleeping, relegating everything else (like this post!) to the “if I feel like it and have time” catergory.

Life Plans

2006-07-07T15:31:00.000+12:00

Due to a discussion on a forum I visit at The Nappy Network I've been motivated to reflect not just on where I am at the moment, but how I got here, and where I'm going from here.

There's a quote I love, that says that "we are all, right now, living the life we choose" which I've come to believe in quite strongly over the past year or two. With that in mind, I present a very vague life plan :-)

Original plan:
Go to university (in the states), get started on a career, find a life partner, have kids whilst maintaining a rewarding career.

Reality:

Next 6 weeks:
Have this baby already
Figure out breastfeeding
Figure out cloth nappies (in a much more hands-on way at least )
Establish a vague routine
Figure out a workable budget between me and DH so that I can spend at least the first year at home with Bubs

Next 6 months:
Knit my baby blanket (which I've got the yarn for but haven't started yet)
Get Bub a passport
Fly overseas for an extended visit with family

Next 1 - 2 years:
Figure out a way to be a WAHM (work-at-home-mum)
Finish my B.A.
Get out of credit card debt

Next 2 - 5 years:
Pay off car
Have more Bubbas
Establish a long-term savings plan
Sell current house
Buy bigger house, ideally for the long-term future and/or on a lifestyle section
Pay off debt to family
Help DH get set up in a more long-term, ideal career, be it self employed or at a role with more mental challenge and room for progression

Next 10 years:
Pay off student loan

Next 20-25 years:
Be mortgage-free

Murphy's Law

2006-06-28T01:56:00.000+12:00

For those that aren't aware, over the past week and a half, I've been learning to knit. My main tutors are "The Complete Idiot's Guide to Knitting and Crocheting" and the website www.knittinghelp.com (a website that provides clear videos with audio explanations) - the two resources aren't made to go together as such, but complement each other remarkably well. Now, before anyone gets any false impressions, I do have a support network of such in 'real life' as well - and to be honest, I don't think I ever would have entirely understood the whole process of knitting had I not been shown, in person, the basic knit stitch.

Now, I'd love to tell you about the whole process - from figuring out the basic tools required and what makes a good / crappy yarn, to the frustrating process of learning to cast-on, to my trial and error with several different styles of actually knitting. While it does make for an interesting story, I've told it several times now - and I'm finding that unless one is speaking to a fellow knitter, one might as well not bother. Thus, as I like to think that people actually read this blog (and I want to keep them doing so!) I'll keep to the general story, rather than going technical, to save losing people from boredom.

Suffice to say, that after a week and a half of learning - including several intentional practice swatches, and one unintentional complete restart of my first actual project, I had managed to progress approximately 27 inches into my first 'real' project, what will eventually be a 60 inch long scarf, a pattern found on a website, that's both relatively simple and still fairly attractive. At this point, my skein of yarn was running out. I'd purchased several skeins of the yarn when I bought it, so having more yarn wasn't an issue thanks to my forward thinking. However, joining up two skeins of yarn was something I hadn't done yet. So tonight as I'm knitting and happily watching House, I decide that I'll pop online for a demonstration of how to join two yarns together (how hard can it be?) knit one row further (so as not to complicate matters) then finish for the night, and head to bed.

The first thing I learned - even when it looks like there's only a very little bit of the skein left, that yarn can still go quite a long way when it's unwound and used. By the time I was actually on my last useable row of the first skein, it was an hour after House had finished. But no biggie - I'm off work at the moment, I can afford to sleep in. So, at 10:30 pm or so, I hop online to download and watch the video of joining two skeins of yarn. I'm right - the process is quite simple, and after a single viewing of the viedo, I'm fairly confident that I understand how to do it. My mistake then was getting distracted while connected to the internet - and as any internet-savvy person has likely experienced, I lost an hour to the web.

So at 11:45, I gather my knitting gear together and pack into the bedroom, where I figure I'll just join the two skeins, knit the following row, and it'll be lights out. A nice, relaxing way to unwind and prepare for a restful night's sleep.

On my way into the bedroom I spy the dirty countertop. So I drop my knitting off in the bedroom and come back to the kitchen - just to spruce things up before going to bed. It won't take long, after all, and means that there's a nice clean kitchen waiting for me in the morning. I pop the dishes from the counter and sink into the dishwasher, give the counter a quick wipe down, take out the couple cans for recycling and empty the trash.

So then, just after midnight, I settle down in bed. I manage to get another couple of rows out of my old skein before deciding that yes, I really do need to join the new one. I'd read somewhere that the best place to join the yarn is at the beginning of a row, so I finished off one row before attempting the join. The process I chose / learned really IS quite simple - basically, it's just knitting the two threads together as if they were one for a few stitches, then dropping the old thread out. Easy peasy.

And it is, really. Everything goes pretty much exactly to plan. It's not until I'm four stitches away from the end of that row that I realise I've been doing the wrong stitch ever since I dropped out the old yarn.

But no big deal, right? I realised before the end of the row, after all. I'll just reverse the process so to speak, unpick the stitches one by one, then do the row with the proper stitch.

Simple in theory, but apparently not in practice. The problem is now that it's 12:30 am, and I really should have packed it in about two hours ago. I'm not impatient - really, I'm keeping remarkably calm considering. But my higher brain function has apparently already signed off for the day, and I'm now working in territory I'm not overly familiar with. When I go to unpick the first stitch, I drop it. For experienced knitters, this is a minor inconvience. However, I've never dropped a stitch before and while I know that it's perfectly salvagable, I have no idea how. So I fire up the laptop and log into Knitting Help where, thankfully, there's a video showing exactly how to fix a dropped stitch. Mind you, it takes me about three tries - but that's not bad for a learning curve. It's only when I go to unpick the next stitch - and drop it - then fix it - then go to unpick the next stitch - and, yes, drop it and fix it - that I realise that something may be wrong here.

At the rate I'm going, I figure, I'm making no progress fast at all, and while I'm becoming quite practiced in fixing runs and picking up dropped stitches, I'm creating more problems than I started with by doing the wrong stitch. I'll do things the easy way, I think, and unravel the remainder of the row, right up until the join of the yarns.

Except I'm not very familiar with unravelling, either, and it's now just after 1 am. The row unravels fine, and I even manage to slide my needle back in... but then I stare at the yarn and have no idea how to recontinue. Simply put, I can't find my place. I'm in the middle of the row and the yarn's not where it's supposed to be but I can't work out how to get it where I need it.

Which is when I decide to unravel the next row, too, just to even things up a bit, start from the beginning of the row. I'll have to reattach the join of the two yarns, but I managed it the first time, didn't I?

Except that puts me on the 'wrong side' of the fabric which I'm not really familiar with. And it's a quarter past 1 am.

Which is when I decide to unravel the next row. Start off on the right foot.

The plan works, in theory. In practice, I'm apparently not very good at reinserting my needle, and I end up twisting approximately half the stitches upon re-insertion. It's not that big a deal, and really, I have to give myself credit for noticing the twist as apparently it's a novice error not to notice. But, notice I do, so with each twisted stitch, I have to manually pick it off the needle and re-insert it, the untwisted way. Simple, but alas, not the quickest of procedures.

Finally, though, at the end of that row, everything looks set to resume as per normal. I'm halfway through knitting the next row when I realise that the end of my yarn (of what is left of the first skein) is a big, tangled mess. I'm not sure how it got that way - I certainly haven't been working with anything that should have affected it, but I now I have stop, put down the knitting, and untangle the mess. Which I do - it's just that when I pick up the knitting again, I do so in such a way that I grasp the yarn and not both needles, and the right needle slides straight out of all it's stitches and drops onto the floor. I - very calmly, with only a few choice words - reinsert said needle, then find that I have to repeat the untwisting process handled above.

Yes, it gets done. The last row and a half of the old skein gets knitted. I join the new skein. It joins smoothly, and I drop the old thread out. I then - very carefully, knit the correct stitch pattern for the row with the new skein, and just for good measure, one more row on top of that, so as to allow myself to easily pick up where I left off when I next pick up the knitting.

I am, finally, done for the night. And somewhere in the back of my head, the advice my mother-in-law gave me when I first decided to start knitting is echoing around....

"Don't knit when you're tired, you'll make stupid mistakes."

Fascinations...

2006-06-26T23:06:00.000+12:00

36 Weeks
Originally uploaded by KiwiWonder.

I have developed a, for lack of a better word, fascination, with photography. At random times it's crossed my mind that it may even be a potentional career for me - but when I think of the money involved in "proper" cameras, studio set up, classes and books, it all puts me off. Not that I doubt that I could do it - to be honest, I haven't played enough with it yet to know whether I have the talent or not - but rather, I worry that while it's a fun hobby of mine, making it anything more than a hobby would kill the fun.

However, with the combination of a half decent amateur digital camera, and Flickr - which allows me both to share my photos easily as well as gain inspiration from other people's photos - I've started to look at photography as more than just snapshots to preserve memories. It's to the point now where I have to consciously remember to order prints of the photos I want to keep for memory's sake, to have "as photos" rather than just images attached to my computer. The flip side of that is of course, that with the lack of film, I no longer worry about whether something is "worth" a photo - there's no longer any such thing as wasting film (despite what my father in law seems to think).

Now my biggest challenge is to remember to bring the camera to use for those things that strike me as particularly artistic / beautiful.

A quiet acceptance....

2006-06-10T00:16:00.000+12:00

I figure it must be the combination of pregnancy hormones kicking in and being off work for two weeks now, but this is the first couple of days that I've felt calmly accepting of the whole pregnancy process. I wouldn't say we're "ready" for the baby, at least not in the traditional sense with nursery prepared and everything bought. But emotionally I think I'm either there or getting there - as close to prepared as a relatively clueless first time mother can be.

Even thinking of the list of stuff still to do doesn't really phase me. There's the cot to be assembled, the mattress and cot linen to be bought, the pram and sling to be purchased, the labour and postnatal bag to be put together, several nights worth of dinners to be cooked and frozen in preparation, and with any luck, the house to be at least mostly de-cluttered, if not cleaned. Not to mention my hubby's part in this - such as actually clearing the nursery so we have somewhere to put all of the above. But I'm not worried. I honeslty think I could have the baby today and wouldn't stress about it - though logically of course, I'd prefer to wait until I'm full term, both for babe's sake and mine.

Being pregnant really does change perspectives on things. I've been going through my things, originally in an effort to both de-clutter and find stuff to sell to make money, and in doing so I'm finding that it's a lot easier to let go of things I previously couldn't. Everything from CDs that used to really speak to me but I haven't listened to in a number of years, to books held on to with the promise of re-reading that never happens, to excess clothes and shoes that really I don't need, to the miscellaneous odds and ends that we seem to be so good at collecting but that have no real meaning to us. When I began this process I was quite worried that I'd end up selling all of "me" to finance the baby, but instead I find that clearing out the stuff is a form of freedom rather than entrapment. I don't need all of this stuff - most of it I haven't honestly used in ages anyway, but always thought I 'couldn't' sell. The process started because I needed the money, but continues because my priorities have changed.

The more I learn....

2006-05-31T23:34:00.000+12:00

... the more I learn how much more there is to learn.

My latest semi-obsession is modern cloth nappies. (Diapers, for those in the USA) . Granted, Baby isn't here yet, and I have no experience with parenting whatsoever. However, I'm fairly committed to using cloth nappies. For those that aren't familiar, cloth nappies no longer refer to just the flat squares of cloth requiring folding and pinning, but rather are styled much like disposables, complete with velcro closers, waterproof backing and elastic leg holes. However, that's a drastically simplified version.

My original, somewhat prejudgiced opinion when beginning my research into modern cloth nappies (MCN) was that there were no NZ made MCN available. There was one brand I found that was sold through an organic baby product store, but they're imported from the States. (Which to my American mind, just figures.) Mind you, I was wrong about this - I've since found five independant, online-store websites selling unique made-in-NZ MCN, another website with products required for making one's own nappies (not an option for me as I have neither tools nor talent) and a couple NZ websites retailing various imported brands of MCN.

More than that, I've become immersed in nappy culture. Still without ever having changed a nappy (cloth or disposable) I can tell you the different kinds of modern cloth nappy, the ages said kinds are best suited to, various protection methods to take with the various types to prevent leakages, the advantages and disadvantages to using cloth nappies, both financially and environmentally. I've even joined a website forum that's filled with people talking about cloth nappies and not a lot else.

But the real kicker, that I don't like to admit too often, is what got me so hooked on MCN to begin with. Yes, MCN are cheaper than disposables in the long run (even when using a system that needs multiple sizes for the child as the child grows). Yes, they're more environmentally friendly. Yes, they're more labour and have more potential complications. However - hands down, MCN are just so darn cute! So while I still find myself suffering major information overload when trawling through pages dedicated to MCN, pros, cons, why's and why-not's, I know at least one thing for sure. My baby will be pooing in style!

What I wish for my marriage...

2006-05-19T14:57:00.000+12:00

Intangible - the ‘what’

To be respected
To always have a safe forum in which to share any and all emotions, experiences, and thoughts
The knowledge that I have the support of my husband in all aspects
To be and to have an equal and contributing partner in the marriage
The knowledge that myself and our children are the most important thing, people, priority, in my husband’s life
To feel cherished
To have a home that represents and expresses myself as much as my husband

Tangible - the ‘how’

A kiss and a cuddle first thing, every day, when the last person home arrives
A kiss goodbye when leaving the house for the day
A kiss goodnight when going to bed
Regular acknowledgement and appreciation for things that have been done - i.e., dishes, cleaning, ‘normal’ daily tasks that contribute to the good of the household
Some time every day to catch up as a couple with no other distractions. This can be dinner together over the table (without TV, books, magazines, etc) or otherwise arranged.
A weekly date - just the two of us, together, focusing on enjoying time together, even after Baby arrives. Preferably the same time most weeks.
A husband who spends the majority of his sleeping hours at night in bed with me.
To be included in my husband’s life - his joys, his sorrows, his worries and his frustrations. To be the first one consulted on major decisions as a matter of course.
Occasional accompaniment on outings - be it to the movies, the mall, the grocery store, etc, simply for the job of being together
To be free from critiscm over those things that didn't get done that day
To be given help willingly when I need / ask for it

There's no place like Home...

2006-04-24T22:11:00.002+12:00

In my situation - pregnant and miles away from the nearest blood relative or close friend other than my husband - I find myself, somewhat predictably, longing for the comforts of home. (Of course, craving my childhood comfort foods - ice cream, macaroni and cheese, mexican, and blueberry muffins - doesn't help ease that).

And yet, each time I slip into this longing, I find myself faced with the logic of the situation. Which is, simply put, that I and my unborn child are far better off going through the pregnancy and birth process here, in New Zealand, than we are in the USA.

New Zealand provides free maternity care for all residents, from day one of the pregnancy. The USA doesn't have an equivalent.

New Zealand (well, Auckland at least) provides up to three nights post-natal stay in a maternity ward, in order to fully recouperate and get the hang of breastfeeding and other essentials of infant care, before sending you packing. From what I know of delivery in the USA, it's not uncommon for a mother and baby (provided there were no complications) to be sent home within 24 hours of giving birth.

New Zealand provides free medical care for all children under 6. This includes all routine vaccinations, yearly check-ups, dental care, and even those 'not-sure-if-this -is-important' doctor visits. From ages 6 to 16, the same medical care is heavily subsidised, although no longer 100% free.

More vaguely, New Zealand is a very child friendly nation. The public schooling here is of high quality, though if you're more inclined, there's still plenty of private schools and homeschool programs around. Children are welcome in the majority of public places, and New Zealand as a countryside abounds with plenty of child-friendly activities that are cheap or free.

There are, of course, some trade-offs. In general, cost of living is higher in New Zealand, and salaries are lower across the board. And, even more significantly, all my near and dear are still in the USA.

Which must be the reason why, even on weighing all the above up, I know there's really no place like home. Even an imperfect home.

Second Star to the Left...

2006-04-17T22:25:00.000+12:00

I don't want to grow up.

Let me rephrase that. Some would say I already am grown up -- at 23, with a house I at least partially own, a full time job, a husband, and a child on the way -- these are all, of course, markers of materity.

Externally, then, I bear all the signs of adulthood. Yet I feel like I'm playing an elaborate, very well executed, game of pretend, that's all about to come crashing down.

I'm nearly two thousand dollars in debt in credit alone -- not taking into account my car or student loans. I have a baby due to get here in three months and very little of the nursery bought, let alone set up. And only 3.5 more paydays left to do it with while still making my regular payments.

The amount of items I need seems to increase each time I look at the list. There's the baby bath, a change table or at least a change mat of some sort, diapers, a car seat, a baby sling for short trips, a pram/pushchair for longer trips, clothing, a mattress for our cot, a baby hammock for a baby bed the master bedroom (for the first 6 months or so), blankets, toiletries, nursing bras, nursing pads, bottles and steriliser, and of course toys. Which of course isn't taking into account the "incidental" increases in regular grocery items -- particularly in washing powder and groceries!

And while a couple of those items aren't "absolutely" needed, the majority are. I've been doing what I can looking second hand and trying to beg borrow and steal items, but I haven't had a lot of luck. Certainly I'm not the only one in this boat because the Baby Gear catergory on TradeMe is one of the ones with the highest sell-through rates - anything half decent is sold straight away, and usually for a price within 70% or so of RRP. Combine that with my entire lack of network here in New Zealand even after four years living here. I don't know anyone who has baby gear to spare, nor for that matter do I have much of a list for people to attend a baby shower, as our 'closest' friends are moving out of Auckland this coming Sunday. After that it's down to mere aquaintenances -- the type who would know that the only reason they're being invited is for the gifts they bring. I really don't want to seem that pathetic.

In short, I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm still approximately three months away from giving birth and I already feel like a terrible mother.

Today It Seems Real...

2006-04-15T22:32:00.000+12:00

As nearly anyone who's been pregnant will tell you, pregnancy inspires weird dreams. Often baby orientated, but not always -- tho the baby dreams usually have something weird going on. I know people who've dreamed that they've given birth to cats, and another that dreamed she went for her ultrasound and had a wonderfully healthy baby dragon in there. Personally I've dreamt that I've given birth to two at a time, also that I had a walking, talking, toddler-sized MiniMe straight after birth. Understandable, probably -- but very weird nonetheless.

Last night I dreamed that I had my baby. The weird thing last night was... merely that it wasn't weird. Granted, I dreamt that I went in to labour, then the next thing I knew I woke up and had my baby presented to me. Whether that means I had a c-section or simply that my mind blanked the parts it doesn't know, I don't know. I don't even really care.

What sticks with me is that I was presented with a beautiful, normal, newborn sized and newborn healthy, baby girl, swaddled up in a fuzzy pink blanket. With a full head of (newborn) dark hair.

Suddenly this all seems to very real to me. I'm going to have a baby.

"When I say you sucked my brain out....

2006-04-12T22:41:00.000+12:00

... the English translation is that I am in love with you, and it is no fun" - ani difranco

i am married to the person i believe to be the love of my life.
i do love him madly.
i believe he feels much the same for me.
i believe he is doing his best for me and by me.

then why the hell aren't i happy?

i'm no fool of course. i know relationships take work. and certainly i try -- do what i can when i can to better the relationship. to an extent that works too, because i know he feels better about the relationship.

it's only me that's left feeling used and unloved and desperately lonely.

Forks in the road

2006-04-05T21:36:00.000+12:00

forgive my lack of casing, i'm not feeling in a capatalistic mood tonight.

working at a recruitment agency has it's advantages and disadvantages. on the one hand, i'm confident that i could prepare a rockin' c.v. (for the US-bound, that's short for Cirriculum Vitae -- a sort of much expanded resume designed more to sell oneself than conform to any standards) for myself now, as well as at least a half decent cover letter, and probably get myself an amazingly high percentage of interviews per jobs applied for (at least for the jobs i'm qualified for). on the other hand, my job involves typing c.v.'s for other people nearly all working day, every day. it may occasionally make for interesting reading, but, at least in my case, it leads to much thinking (even brooding) about one's current place on the career ladder.

being pregnant doesn't help this. pregnancy, at least for first time mums like myself, naturally involves much future-thinking and trying to figure out where the heck i go from here.

so where do i go? the way i see it, i have four main paths open to me.

there's the obvious route of being a full time, home-based mother. undoubtedly the most noble of the options, probably also the most rewarding. there's the obvious financial disadvantage (even improbability in our case) to counter-act that, and the danger of one's voice permanently rising an octave and baby-brain taking over permanently...

continuing straight ahead on my current career route, however (and thus assuming i would enter full time employment fairly quickly after childbirth) there's the mundane, oft-trod if proven path of rising through the clerical ranks. i hover at the moment somewhere between typist and secretary depending on who's asking for what and when, but at any rate, i have proven computer / keyboarding skills and decent organisational skills. only thing i lack is vast experience, and i'm getting that now. within 3-5 years i could probably be a mid-level P.A. earning a respectable, if not glamourous, amount of pay. i think i'd enjoy the work as long as i had the right boss / team, and i'm confident i'd be good at it. of course, the very nature of the work means there's no glamour what-so-ever, little reward or recognition, a definite lack of mental stimulation, and often long hours in mediocre conditions as well. it is, quite possibly, the 'easy' road ahead. straight, relatively flat, highly travelled, but beware of driver fatigue.

veering slightly off to one side, there's the possibility of becoming a consultant for the agency -- this, or for that matter, any other agency. don't get any ideas now -- a consultant, at least for a private firm such as this, is really just a salesperson. but sales people on the whole make fairly decent money and often get some wicked perks depending on the job. that said, selling 'people' into jobs is a lot different than selling product and/or business -- and it may prove difficult to ever move on from being anything other than a recruitment consultant, and thus it's possible the road's a dead end. or at least a cul-de-sac. however, the ride there would be exciting -- high pressure and cutthroat at times but leading to a definite sense of accomplishment. the job is never the same two days in a row, there's always something to strive for (such as that high-dollar client) and things going on. it's a thinking job working with people primarily one-on-one, which is my strength. and my current admin skills, while not necessary, are quite useful nonetheless.

and finally off to the left, there's the originally-intended route of getting a B.A. and doing something with it. the problem here being, well.... what exactly that 'something' is. a b.a. has been my goal for the past four years and still i find that i have no clue what i intend to do with it. my fear is, i'd settle into a nice comfy administration job, with a nice hefty student loan and a fancy piece of paper to show for it, and yet, not be using a damn thing from it. this being n.z. and not the u.s.a., experience is still touted highly whether you have a paper to back it up or not -- a degree is not, therefore, needed for any job that doesn't involved "fries with that". with a b.a. i would qualify for at least a few more jobs than presently, but the vast majority of the one's i've seen in the past year or so don't excite me.

one of the consultants today asked one of the candidates, via phone interview, "what do you want to be doing -- what gets you out of bed in the morning?" i've been thinking about it since then and i still haven't got a clue.

Since they're popular....

2006-01-22T16:21:00.000+13:00

... and this one's different than most I've seen, anyway.

[A is for age:]
23

[B is for booze of choice]
Fancy, fruity, cocktails. Apple martinis, strawberry daquiries, that sort of thing. And the Champagne Cocktail we make at Tupperware partys.

Not at the moment, though.

[C is for career]
Soon to be mother. Oh, and some form of 9-5 career I haven't figured out yet.

[D is for your dog's name:]
Lucy. Which was not my original choice (I liked Nyla) but I conceeded to hubby. Which means I get to name the baby, of course. :D

[E is for essential items you use everyday:]
Car, watch, book of the moment.

[F is for favorite song(s) at the moment:]
Not sure at the moment, really.... Kinda rare for me.

[G is for favorite games:]
"Board" games:
Life
Scrabble
Uno
Risk
Probably in that order.

Computer games:
The Sims 2
World of Warcraft
Rise of Nations.

Again, in that order.

[H is for hometown:]
Lodi.

[I is for instruments you play:]
Piano, more or less. More less now as I haven't played for years.

[J is for jam or jelly you like:]
Berry Blend

[K is for kids?]
Two, peanut and hubby.

Or if hubby doesn't count, then just peanut.

(In utereo DOES still count.)

[L is for last movie seen:]
In the theater: "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire"
On video: "The Butterfly Effect."

[M is for most admired trait:]
I don't know. You'd have to ask other people what they admire about me.

[N is for name of your crush:]
David Boreanaz and Antonio Banderas.

[O is for overnight hospital stays:]
None that I remember.

[P is for phobias:]
Spiders. Hospitals. (tho probably not to the extent of 'phobia' for either. But fear and very strong dislike)

[Q is for quotes you like:]
um....

[R is for biggest regret:]
Not any that haunt me, so nothing that seems big enough to call a true 'regret'.

[S is for sweets of your choice:]
Gobstoppers
SweetTarts
Conversation Hearts
Smarties (NOT the nestle ones!)

[T is for time you wake up:]
Between 7:00 or 7:30 depending on both my optimistim of traffic and whether I'd bathed the night before, or not.

[U is for underwear:]
Whatever fits and is comfortable.

[V is for vegetables you love:]
Broccoli, asparagus, corn on the cob, fresh green beans.

[W is for worst habit:]
My caffeine habit.

[X is for x-rays you've had:]
tons. Or perhaps not really, but too many to pinpoint. Specially if you count dentist x-rays.

[Y is for yummy food you make:]
I've been told my Pot Roast is nice. My mexican food is good by New Zealand standards but lousy by either american OR Mexican standards.

[Z is for zodiac sign:]
Capircorn

Random Survey-ness

2005-12-18T13:23:00.000+13:00

5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Dorito's Cooler Ranch
2. Fresh strawberries. Anyway, anyhow.
3. Cheez-Its
4. SweetTarts
5. Bubblegum Milkshakes

5 artists that I know the lyrics of most of their songs:
1. Ani Difranco
2. Sarah McLachlan
3. The Black Eyed Peas
4. Avril Lavinge
5. The Barenaked Ladies

5 things I’d do with $100 million:
1. Pay off the debts of myself and my family
2. Build a new house out in the country
3. Invest, invest, invest
4. Buy hubby a warehouse to set up a vintage computer mueseum
5. Travel the world

5 locations I’d like to run away to:
1. Northern California
2. Scotland
3. England
4. Japan
5. New York City

5 things I like doing:
1. Reading
2. Playing The Sims 2
3. Swimming
4. Talking to/spending time with friends and family
5. Riding Horses (when I get the chance...)

5 things I would never wear:
1. A mini-skirt
2. A mumu
3. PVC

(I guess I'm pretty open...)

5 TV shows I like:
1. Survivor
2. America's Next Top Model
3. Desperate Housewives
4. E.R.
5. House

5 movies I like:
1. The Truth About Cats and Dogs
2. Shrek
3. Shrek 2
4. 10 Things I Hate About You
there's more but I can't think of any right now...

5 famous people I’d like to meet:
1. Sylvia Browne
2. Janeane Garafolo
3. Oprah
Really I'm not into meeting famous people. In most cases, I'd rather worship from afar.

5 favorite toys:
1. My gaming computer
2. 60-gig Creative Nomad Zen Xtra
3. My 2nd Generation Toyota Prius
4. Books
5. Board games

In Preparation....

2005-12-05T15:53:00.000+13:00

I've discovered that owning a dog -- nay, a puppy -- is a lot like having an infant. Practice, shall we say.

A week ago, I adopted a 6 week old Golden Labrador Retriever. And I do say 'I' because although hubby knew I was doing it, I didn't have his 100% support -- it was most definitely my idea. Since then, I've been learning to live with said puppy, whom we named Lucy, and she's been learning to live with us.

Now, after upwards of five "accidents" in the house, and untold chewtoy-mistakes, we're starting to reach a peace. The goal is to reach a balance where Lucy is as happy being inside as she is outside, and able to behave and content herself equally well in both places. And we're not there yet.

But we have made progress. Lucy can now be inside under supervision, or restraint. That is, I can secure her leash to the table, and trust that she'll behave herself, or at least try to. I don't have to worry about cleaning up little yellow puddles anymore when she's inside. And as long as she has an appropriate chewtoy in reach, she doesn't tend to take out her teething frustration on the furniture. (Thank God for Kong products!)

But all of this, although progress over one week, has not come easy. The first day home she whined incesstantly every moment I wasn't actively playing with her. She cried to be let in when she was outside, she cried to be let out of her crate when she was there. She cried when she was let out if I wasn't playing with her. In fact, the only time she wasn't crying was when she was asleep or chewing on some random piece of clothing, hardware, or furniture. Consequently when hubby came home he found the puppy sleeping peacefully and his wife bawling. Which elicited, of course, a prompt "She's your dog."

So I did what any good student would do. I went to the library and armed myself with every training book currently available, and quickly found my favorite. (Which, for those geeks amoung us, is "Before and After Getting your Puppy" by Dr. Ian Dunbar) Although his methods are far easier read than done, they do (eventually) work. And best of all, they're all gentle methods that teach the dog to work for praise (and sometimes bribes) rather than punishing the poor pup for not knowing the rules in the first place.

I've also picked up several tips from friends. A good friend of the family suggested using rolled-up newspaper. I, of course, was horrified -- I don't hit my dog! But after a fruitless training session today I discovered a trick. I don't hit the dog with the newpaper. I hit anything else and the noise is sufficient distraction that it gets her attention back to me. Whether that's what said friend meant, I'm not sure, but it works for me.

So while I don't have an infant yet, Lucy (affectionately, Lulu) is a suitable microcausm. And, perhaps, exactly what I need at this point.