Compliments

Tara wanted to know how rain came from clouds. So I explained to her in great detail how that happened. I fished for a compliment and declared, "Isn't Mummy smart?" Tara said, "No Mummy, you are as smart as a herd of mules."

"Thank you," I said, wondering if a four and a half year old could already be sarcastic, or if she was indeed impressed with mules.

I'm not fishing for compliments again, but it did get me thinking. Was I appreciative of my Mum? I don't think I ever thanked her for anything. Rolled my eyes a lot, walked out of the room a lot, and gave deep, loud sighs a lot. But never said or wrote the words 'Thank you.' With my child it seems to be the other way round. Tara does say the words 'thank you' quite frequently. Whether it is said in front of her father to impress him with her manners, or whether it comes from her heart isn't very clear. A bit of both I imagine.

I don't remember my mother sitting me down and teaching me to say thank you. She was way too busy  running her mad house with no help from anyone including her lazy children. I don't remember appreciating my Mum as a young adult when it was all about 'living my life.' I always loved her, and still do, now more than ever, especially since we are geographically further away.

Everyone needs to be appreciated. Children, grown-ups, workplace colleagues, stay at home parents, family, friends or helpful strangers. Are words important? Or do actions speak louder than words? Does it have to be one or the other? It may be a good idea to have a mix of both. Then there is no scope for confusion or misunderstanding. I will try to add some words to my actions the next time I see my Mum. I think she's earned it many times over. The 'herd of mules' compliment is already taken so I must find something to top that.

Everyone's talking about...

Everyone is talking about the Oscar awards these last few days, and the Bafta awards before that. It made me wonder, when I'd last seen a movie....properly. It's been a good few years.

Back in the 'good ol' days' I was the first to jump at the opportunity of meeting up with friends and doing fun things. After having Tara, excuses started cropping up, and eventually I stopped going out to do what I considered to be fun at one time. Blame it on tiredness, more work than two hands can handle, or prioritising The Husband and Tara's needs amongst others.

Don't get me wrong...I'd not a sad lonely person. I'd rather do what I'm doing now than anything else. It's just that I have many acquaintances now and a couple of friends. The many old friends I had are not around these days. People move on. Time and tide wait was none is a very true expression.

Still, when the Mums at the gate discuss the winning expressions of Meryl Streep and the clothes the actors wore at the Oscars, I do feel a bit of an ignoramus.  Did I become lazy? Or did I grow out of old habits and people? Will I be a lonely person once Tara grows up and goes away? Who knows. I'm at peace today give or take a few crazy days and nights. The future will bring it's own surprises and shocks. I'd rather be what I want to be today.

Of Champions and Sneezes

After an emergency Caesarean that brought Tara out into this world, the one thing I remember more vividly than the face of my first (and only) born is my first sneeze. Oh....my....God ! 

There I was, almost half crazed after the trauma of an emergency C-section, with a baby put in my arms, and a very stern lady known as the 'breast feeding champion' telling me to start feeding, as the baby was getting cold. The only problem was I was still numb all the way down my legs, and didn't know how to feed a child. Battling tears of panic, I fumbled around embarrassed, when a sudden sneeze escaped my nose.

I won't even attempt to describe what that felt like. If I had a scale of pain, I might have put it somewhere near the top. The disapproving "breast feeding champion", rolled her eyes at me and steadied Tara as she almost rolled away from me while I tried to stop crying. I felt incompetent, terrified, and my confidence level dropped to the floor as the 'champion' ticked me off her to-do list, told me to keep trying and left me alone to 'help' another Mum.

One would imagine that all Mums who have had the sneeze experience would freely share this most important advice with any new Mums to be. But no. Everyone told me to breathe, to do this and the other but no one warned me about the sneeze...and cough...and how to deal with the 'cut'.

It was quite by luck I found a way to deal with the dreaded sneezes and coughs. I was lying alone on my hospital bed, crying and clutching a pillow when a sneeze arrived again. Before I had time to panic, I realized it wasn't so bad this time. So here it is, Advice for all new Mums with a C-section cut. When a sneeze or cough comes on, press a pillow with controlled and reasonable pressure on the operation scar evenly covering the surface, and a bit beyond if you know what I mean. It really helps. I was in constant possession of a pillow under my arm ready to spring into action at the first stirring of cold or cough. It really helps. The said pillow travelled with me EVERYWHERE ,from room to bathroom.

Yeah yeah yeah! All those who think it is unhygienic to carry a pillow to the loo, have probably never experienced the sheer agony of sneezing with an operation scar. It is exquisite! You’ll carry a kangaroo to the loo if it helped reduce that pain.

I was sad and nervous to eventually let go of the pillow. It had served me well but disposing of it was the most hygienic thing to do. Now if you have a few bucks you should buy a great many pillows and use and throw at will.

Now back to our friend the 'breast feeding champion'. So how many children do you have to have breast fed to be made a 'champion'? None perhaps. Maybe you just complete a course somewhere that bestows on you the coveted title. I would love to know. They should have given me a friendly non-champion nurse who understood my pain and fears and gently helped me learn. Or at the very least, they should have allowed one member of my family to be with me in the hospital at all times. That would do. Failing all they should have just let me go home.

I didn't know my rights back then. I still don't know many things now. But I do know I'm not having another child. It's a shame really. I'm Tara's Mum now, and feel better equipped to lock horns with a  'champion' who rubbed me the wrong way.

Don't forget to pack a nice pillow in your hospital bag ladies! 

Don't want a daughter?

I've read some disturbing statistics recently where it seems the sex ratio on our planet is slowly becoming increasingly unbalanced.

Preference for the male child has always been the norm in many cultures. The deep rooted psychology of wanting a male child to continue the blood line and family has been around forever. I don't agree with it, but that does not shock me. What shocks me is the lengths some people go to, to get rid of a girl child.

I can debate endlessly and raise a million valid points and theories to demonstrate that a girl and boy are equal. But even the best logic will not register with a warped mind.

All I can say to a person not wanting a girl child is, "I am so sorry that you are going through this lifetime, being born a human being, but not being able to appreciate the absolute treasure that a well brought up daughter is. I would hope you have no children, because you don't deserve the privilege."

I am always uncomfortable when I judge, but there are some issues in life which are black or white, and we must take a stand. Killing a baby only because of it's sex is one of them.

Return to peace

Whatever was the matter with Tara over the last few days is now a thing of the past.  Peace has returned to this household...for now at least. Her antibiotics course finished yesterday but her coughing fit started yesterday as well.

I'll be grateful for any time I get, and try to rest tonight, 'for I smell battle in the air.'

Good night and Courage to all!