27 November, 2011

No place like home

(EBQM5U4NG4V7) I recently stayed at my sister in-law's house in the outback so my husband and I could attend her 50th Birthday. When we first booked the flights for the trip I was so excited.

I had been pent up in the house for seven months and was looking forward to having a real conversation where someone actually talks to you. Not to mention having an excuse to wear something other than my pyjamas, don a bra and do my hair also seemed rather appealing.

When I spoke to my sister in-law she reciprocated with eagerness in having the three of us being her house guests. From when I told her that we were coming she burst in tears while sincerely thanking us for coming. From that moment, she busied herself by getting items my daughter needed to ensure she was safe and comfortable.

I couldn't believe all the trouble she was going to for a smooth transition for us all while we stayed with them. Before we left she reported in to me that she had acquired a high chair, bouncer, car seat, jolly jumper and pool floaty to boot!!

From the month we booked till we arrived at their house I counted the days and so did my sister in-law. I was bursting with enthusiasm about our first family holiday and was really looking forward to having a change of scenery.

In conversation with my sister in-law, regarding our arrival, she told me many times that they had a big house with a pool and air-conditioning. I created a picture of luxury in central Queensland and how I would spend my days sitting by the pool enjoying the warmth and having a chance to put my feet up as well. Just what the doctor ordered.

When we arrived at the airport we were all exhausted already - but my daughter had actually slept through the night for the first time in ages. I was pleasantly surprised sd I was rested for once too. Upon boarding the plane I could feel a sense of uneasiness creeping in my throat because I kept having visions of  an inconsolable baby with an audience of strangers watching. My worst nightmare. Amazingly enough though she slept the whole time we were flying. I was thrilled and very optimistic about deciding to take this trip.

When we arrived at our destination my sister in-law was dutifully waiting at the arrival gate for us with a smile that beamed. She instantly dashed towards to my daughter who was strapped in a Baby Bjorn on my chest.

It was great to see her but all I wanted to do was get to her house and get on this holiday train. It was going to take  forty five minutes to drive to her house from the airport.

Initially, when we got to her car I went to strap my daughter into the car seat my sister had just installed, and raved to me about on the phone, I noticed immediately something was very wrong. It appeared that the second had car seat had, had all of it's protective padding and inserts removed. All that remained was the shell of the unit.I looked at it and felt sick. It would have been safer to strap my daughter to the roof racks. However, I didn't want to offend my sister but, more importantly, I didn't want to put my daughter in it or get into the car without her being safely secured!!!

I gave my husband a look of fear and he returned the sentiment but with defeat in his eyes. I knew there was no other way we could proceed. We continued with our journey without protest and I put it down to being an unfortunate misunderstanding. As we proceeded down the road with my daughter strapped in the seat of death!!!!!! her head was flailing about because of nothing restraining her little neck. Quickly I rolled up my jumper and some unidentified material I found and tried to use it to wedge her bobbing head between it and the side of the seat. I was panic stricken the entire car ride.

As my sister announced that we were arriving at her house we had to drive down a pot hole filled dirt road. As we did, I cupped my daughter's head between my palms in a feeble attempt to keep her head still and safe. This was not my idea of a good start to our holiday.

When we arrived I was looking for the house. All I could see was a very old tin shack!!!
I fearfully asked if that was my sister's house and she cheerfully replied ÿes". Again, this was not the picture I had in my head. When we grabbed our bags we were shown to a bungalow attached to the front of the shack. It had a double bed bunk, one small upright fan in it, no fly wires and at least forty degrees inside.The reality of my relaxing holiday had just come to a crashing end.

I then asked where the air-conditioning was and I was innocently told that it was in my brother and sister in-law's bedroom. Of course!! Then I thought what the hell, I'll go for the trifecta and ask where was the pool. I was shown to it and found that it was an above ground one only a little bit bigger than my en suite at home.

This set the scene for for the days to come.

Due to the humidity, and the inability to cool my daughter down her eczema ravaged her little body. This was intolerable for my poor little girl so she was cranky, itchy and hot. I couldn't get her to eat any solids and she definitely wasn't interested in sleep. During the day I battled with her to take her naps without avail. So, including all of the other issues she was also struggling while being deliriously overtired.

This is what I call EXTREME holidaying. The only way she would sleep was at night with us in our bunk bed.

After our second night in our mosquito infested hot box panic started to set in. To make matters worse I couldn't go for a walk or even take my daughter for one because there is no such things as footpaths or even walking tracks in the bush.

As the days passed I dreamed of going home. I would have given a limb just to be in the comfort of my own home.

When I really needed him my husband conveniently seemed to disappear with his sister or brother and I was left literally holding the screaming baby everyday in a 40 degree plus room.When I had words with him about needing more help and support he would just calmly look at me and tell me to relax and calm down "the baby can sense your stress and is reacting to you" he said. I wanted to say "I'll show you stress when I rip your head off " but I would just give him a look that could cause a thousand deaths and say calmly "fine"and walk away with my daughter. I didn't feel like I was having a holiday at all.

On our last day I leaped out of bed and almost ran with my daughter in my arms to the airport. Just air-conditioning would have improved our predicament marginally.When we arrived at the airport to depart I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I almost bought a bottle of something to celebrate.

Our journey home was heaven. I felt like I was in luxury. My daughter slept in my arms the entire four hours, including when we were in transit.

While we we were flying I met a business woman sitting next to me who talked of her two children. Clearly she missed them. We exchanged funny stories of madness and mothering. One thing we agreed was that men don't seem to understand our urgency meter that assist us in accomplishing things. Important things such as, sleep, going to the toilet, personal hygiene and organising the family. Its like when my husband told me to relax. How in god's name are you supposed to be a zen goddess when your baby has been screaming non stop for several days, won't eat or sleep????

Once we arrived home I initiated my daughter's usual bed time routine and of course, she slept like a little angel. No matter how old you are there is no place like home. Next holiday I think I will take a brake in my backyard among the veggies.

21 November, 2011


Hi,

I'm a new mum with an eight month old baby girl who has a passion for gardening. I'm writing this blog for many reasons;

1) Share my experiences in Motherhood with like-minded individuals who can have a laugh at silly things.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
2) Exchange tips, ideas and experiences with gardening;
3) do a screen dump of all the thoughts spinning around in my head;
4) to stay sane.

I've been intending on writing this for some time but you know - not enough time or inspiration.

Before my daughter was born I thought I was getting to know my stuff in life. Afterwards, I have come to the realization that I had a narrow view of the world. Now, every day is bumbling experience of getting to know myself, my daughter and this new found world.

One thing I have learnt is just when I'm starting to get the hang of this Mother thing I know that it will change again!!!

I have traded in coffee and cigarettes for leaking boobs and pooy nappies. ALL which should come with a health warning. Not just the latter. This transition has also preceded a wobbly belly and a crinkle cut but which again, should come with a mental health warning.

However, since my daughter was born even though it has felt like an eon of pyjama wearing, house arrest and constant crying. Also, desperation for sleep, food and the opportunity for shower became my daily objectives. Now, little stolen moments of happiness and smiles have replaced it all.

My question is "why aren't you told about these things from the beginning." women make little comments or say "It's the hardest job in the world" but!! It’s as if there is a women's club and if you haven't had a baby their secrets aren't divulged. No one talks of their negative experiences, just the positive ones. I'm going to be completely unabashed and tell it how it is.

This is where gardening is something universal we can all share, empathize with and teach. Being a Mother is a learned behaviour although some are good at it, others struggle. Gardening is something that can be taught and if you follow the instructions, you will achieve success. It is although like mothering. There is a lot of trial and error involved but if you persistent you will reap the benefits of what you have nurtured.

Before my daughter was born I thought I had found my ‘happy place’ and it was in my garden. Now, all I need is the glint of a smile in my baby girl’s eye or a joyful squeal.

Instead of getting down and dirty in the garden to feel satisfied I now find myself teaching someone to walk, talk and how to be good to themselves and kind to others. Albeit, gardening is something I also can teach her too. We inspect the vegetables on a daily basis and have picked snow peas, played with paper flowers and dug a new patch.

These are things that don’t have any age boundaries. More importantly, every day she and I learn more about the preciousness of our environment and how to treat it with respect.