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Tag: parenting

  • A father’s tears

    A father’s tears

    smiling child

    By Julian O’Brien

    Last week I broke down in tears. It’s a simple sentence, but not an easy one to write.

    The reason? Princess Ella’s first kindy school cross country.

    You see, Ella had a rough night before and was starting to show signs of the winter ills that had gripped our household, but we decided to send her to school anyway as she was excited about the run.

    I rolled up to school later in the day to watch Ella run. There was a freezing wind around the school ground and there was poor little Ella looking pale and frozen awaiting the run.

    A couple of times she came over to me complaining of how cold she was, but I sent her diligently back to her class mates, despite growing in concern.

    Eventually, they got the kindy girls race started. Ella got out of the blocks quickly over the first 20 metres and then faded in a heap. She stopped to a walk while the others ran on. It doesn’t help that she is the tiniest in her class, but the 450 metres must have felt like kilometres to her.

    Ella struggled to half way (with all the other kids in the home straight). When she saw me, she went to come to me and I encouraged her on. Gamely she battled on and by then kids from older classes who had been marshalling the other littlies had all dropped back to help Ella on.

    About 100 metres out from the line, Ella reached into her pocket and wiped her nose constantly until the end of the race.  I was waiting at the finish line and wrapped her up in a big cuddle, reassuring her with “I am so proud of you for not quitting, darlin’’.

    “Can I come home with you, daddy,’’ was the reply.

    I returned Ella to her classmates and jokingly said to the teacher that I’d probably be back to pick her up in an hour judging by her health. Sure enough, the call came and I returned her home to Princess Kel.

    Waiting till Ella was safely lying prone on the couch and out of listening distance, I went to tell Kel about what had happened and just broke down. It broke my heart to see Ella, who was later diagnosed with both an ear and chest infection, battle like that and to think we’d put her in that situation.

    Yet on my return from work that night, Kel relayed a conversation which filled my heart with joy.

    Kel asked Ella how the run went.

    “I was a bit slow,’’ was Ella’s reply. “But daddy was so proud of me for not giving up.’’

    I certainly was, darlin’.

     

  • {The Shed} When your children are chalk and cheese

    {The Shed} When your children are chalk and cheese

    Burnie play centreChalk and cheese, Carlton and Collingwood, wine and water or Ford and Ferrari. It is a pleasure to be the father of two girls who are completely different in personality.  Now I’m not saying one is better than the other. Just different.

    Ella has been daddy’s little girl from the moment she was born four years ago.  Again, she and her mum are very close, but – much to mum’s disgust – Ella knows she has me wrapped around her little finger and uses that advantage unmercifully.

    Little Holly is another story.  Due to the fact I’ve spent much of her lifetime getting Ella “out of mum’s hair” it has taken Holly and I time to develop the same formidable bond.

    Recently, she has become enormously affectionate – spontaneously wrapping me in bear-like hugs and planting long, wet sloppy kisses on me at will.  Those moments make me deliriously happy.

    What I love about my two “little girls” are their differences.  Perhaps, like many first kids, Ella has been over protected and as a result is a bit of a wuss, scared of any height above my shoulder height and – in the nicest way – a bit of a sook.

    Holly, on the other hand, has no fear.  We played a practical joke on the girls at Easter disguising chocolate as rabbit poo and while Ella looked on in disgust, Holly was filling her face with said “droppings’’.  Typical “second child syndrome”.

    Recently we took both girls to the opening of a new children’s play centre in a city close by and the differences of the girls were on show.  Ella (4 ½) wanted no bar of the big three-humped slide – even with mum or dad.

    Holly (18 months) not only flew down the slide with mum and dad on each occasion, but wanted more and would stage a countdown at the top of the slide: “Eddy, Set, Ghooooo’’.

    Burnie play centre

    You all have read plenty about Ella on this blog.  Holly is her fearless, stubborn, determined, individualistic and contented sibling.

    We love them both as individuals and more importantly (despite the occasional hair-pulling incident) they love each other.

    What sort of relationship do you have with your kids? Are they like chalk and cheese?

  • One man’s sweet take on the “morning cuppa”

    One man’s sweet take on the “morning cuppa”

    Girl in children's kitchen
    Li'l Holly making herself a drink in her big sister's kitchen.

    By The Bloke In The Shed

    SOME of my fondest memories as a child are of jumping into my mum and dad’s bed early of a morning. Compared to my own bed, it seemed enormous.

    Not only that, I watched my dad – the hunter/gatherer of the family – religiously be the one to get out and make my devoted mum her cup of tea in bed of a morning. Like breeds like.

    Our family loves our morning snuggles in bed and, yes, it has been traditionally yours truly to get out of bed and make the morning drinks for the clan.

    Ella’s morning brew, as opposed to mum’s cup of tea, has been Milo since about the age of two. On the odd – and I’ll say very odd – occasion, mum has got up to make the family drinks, Ella has chucked the most enormous of hissy fits.

    “No mummy, I want daddy to make my Milo; you make it yucky etc etc etc etc.”

    Until recently, I’d always worn it as a sense of pride. That is, until, Princess Kel and I both had cause to be up in the kitchen during the drink-making ritual.

    Collingwood beer holder
    Li'l Holly insists on putting her milk container into a Collingwood stubby holder.

    As usual I poured milk for Li’l Holly, a one-sugared tea for mum, a one-sugared coffee for dad and a one-sugared Milo for Ella. Princess Kel looked at me as if I’d just shot the Pope.

    “YOU SUGAR ELLA’S MILO!!!!!!!!!!,’’ she wailed, like Tom Cruise wailed for ‘the truth’ in the closing scenes of A Few Good Men. I refused the urge to say “you can’t handle the truth’’ and offered up a feeble, “yes”.

    “We talked about it when we started giving her Milo,’’ I said, with the knowledge I was backed up by my photographic memory …… um, what were we talking about?

    Let’s face it, Milo without sugar is like bacon without eggs. It’s not right.

    Whatever the scenario, mum was offended and upset at the fact her sugarless offerings had been treated with the contempt they’d deserved.

    Ella and I looked at each other. Shrugged. And poured ourselves another hot drink.

    God love her.

    Do your children get to drink Milo or is it strictly a morning milk affair?

  • Antenatal classes enough to make you pale

    Antenatal classes enough to make you pale

    On Monday I released a special Mother’s Day price of $5 (usually $12.95) for the Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves: The Snotty Truth About Motherhood ebook. There’s only three more days to grab a copy before it reverts back to the old price here.

    Here’s a sneak peek inside the ebook to give you an idea of what it’s all about:

    Antenatal classes enough to make you pale

    Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves artwork

    September 19
    DUBBED ‘‘huff and puff’’ sessions by some, antenatal classes have obviously come a long way from their earlier days. Well, for starters, there’s no huffing or puffing any more. For me, the scary part was who you’re going to get in your class. And thankfully, we had a good group.
    For my husband, the scary part was having to see anything gory. And if you’re wondering, yes he will be at the birth, even if the entire time is spent trying to get colour back into his face.
    The first glimpse of pasty-coloured skin actually came courtesy of that antenatal class. While he avoided having to watch any gory videos or see pictures of the insides of other women, he was presented with a nice, fresh placenta an hour into the first day. Lovely.
    Having seen the insides of sheep and cows put in the wheelbarrow and then buried on Pop’s farm, a placenta was a piece of cake for me. Just not as tasty.
    For city slicker husbands there was lots of deep breathing (ah, so now I understand why they call them ‘‘huff and puff’’ classes). And the faces turned a lighter shade of pale when one woman started mentioning how some cultures fry up their placentas so the husbands could eat them. Hence the supper provided that night was left largely untouched.
    For me, the stomach-turning moment was the crochet hook-looking implement they’ll use to pop my insides if they don’t pop themselves. All of a sudden I swear someone turned the room temperature up  and I was desperate for fresh air.
    Overall, the antenatal classes provided a great insight of what’s to come and how to cope during labour. The most interesting moment though was hearing the mother of one pregnant woman saying how good she thought women had it nowadays. So good, in fact, she wouldn’t mind going through the labour all over again. Can’t be that bad then, can it? Well, can it?

    What do you remember about your antenatal classes?

  • A titillating conversation starter

    A titillating conversation starter

    Two weeks ago I had a client meeting in town. While waiting, the front counter lady did a double take and then asked if I was the lady who had written about her “girls’’ (cups hands around “her girls’’) in the newspaper that day.

    Not the kind of question I was expecting while I was in work mode, but what a wonderful conversation starter.

    So, to give you a little ice breaker for next time we meet, here’s that column which is also from the Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves ebook.

    Which, by the way, has a special Mother’s Day price until Sunday of $5 (usually $12.95). It’s ideal if you’re looking for a last-minute Mother’s Day gifts or something unique for a friend’s birthday. Just visit the ebook page to learn more.

    Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves ebookDads learn to bottle up fear of detachment

    September 5

    One morning last week I awoke to find what looked like cartoon drawings of two fried eggs on my good white nightie. After running through a million scenarios, from my husband ‘‘sleep drawing’’ to me eating in my sleep, it eventually dawned on me — the ‘‘girls’’ had leaked.

    Having grown up on a dairy farm at Riana — OK, it was a hobby farm and our milking capacity was two cows — I know all about where milk comes from. But nothing prepares you for the shock of seeing liquid coming out of your own mammary glands. It’s insane. Since then, I’ve had to wear nursing pads to bed — I’m now wearing more padding than Glenn McGrath going out to bat.

    It got me thinking about the whole feeding process and how soon these once objects of desire may need to be backed up to a machine ready to be pumped dry. Yes kids, milk doesn’t come from a carton.

    I also know how to do it by hand if the ‘‘damn machine’’ (dad’s words) breaks down again. Actually, that thought alone has inspired me to buy the best, most expensive equipment.

    The breast pump — or milking machine as I’ve named it — is an automatic little doodackie. I start pumping, it picks up my rhythm and then takes over. Genius.

    Except that I have visions of it latching on too tightly, sucking out of control and my husband trying to yank it off my chest. Anyway. . .

    The hardest part of becoming a dad must surely be having to relinquish control over your wife’s ‘‘girls’’.

    Yes, they belong to the baby now. Even more difficult must be the fact they’re larger than they’ll ever be.

    Oh, the torture. In fact, my bras (now sized at the opposite end of the alphabet) are big enough for me to camp under. Ah well, at least on our camping adventures we’d never run out of milk.

    Read more extracts from the ebook.

    Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves: The Snotty Truth About Motherhood

    Can you relate to any of this?

  • Aussie Giveaway Linkup #47: The Interview

    Aussie Giveaway Linkup #47: The Interview

    Today is day seven of the 10-day Virtual Book Tour for the Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves: The Snotty Truth About Motherhood ebook. Being a journalist, I couldn’t help but want my contribution to the tour to be an interview. So here I am, interviewing myself. Yes, there is nothing I won’t do!

    Only Hearts Should Be Worn On Sleeves: The Snotty Truth About Motherhood

    How did the idea for the “Mum’s the Word” Advocate newspaper column come about?

    I was up the duff. I like writing. I just put two and two together and came up with a mum column. I might add, I had no idea what a mummy blog was at this stage.

    What sort of response did you receive from the community about the column?

    There were no picket lines outside the Advocate offices, so I took that as a good sign. We had the odd person who was shocked at seeing terms like “up the duff” in their newspaper and banter about your “girls” leaking, while others mobbed Ella in the street as if she was some mini superstar. Thankfully, she hadn’t mastered signing her name by this stage or the whole thing could well have gone to her head.

    Why did you decide to form the columns into an ebook?

    It could be said I didn’t want to see them buried forever in the dusty archives of the newspaper file room. Maybe I also had visions of buying a Porsche Boxter, but hey, I’ll take the Hyundai Getz.

    What’s the best way to describe an ebook, for those who don’t know what it is?

    It’s a way to carry this:

    book

    in your handbag without putting your back out.

    Who would the ebook be an ideal gift for?

    Anyone who’s had anything to do with babies or mothers – so pretty much everyone. And Mother’s Day is precisely 14 days away. Order it, include mum’s email address and it’s all done for you. You can thank me later. As can your mum.

    What’s the best reaction you’ve had from the ebook/columns?

    “You made me snort my wine through my nose.’’ This person clearly needs professional help for their little problem.

    Where can I get a copy? I want one NOW.

    Of course you do. Just click this link and you’ll be reading within seconds!

    The tour features a few giveaways of the ebook, but you’ll need to be quick as some are ending in the next day or two. Now onto some other giveaways…

    If you’re a blogger or business wanting to take part in the Aussie Giveaway Linkup:

    1. Only link directly to the giveaway post/s and include the prize and end date in the linky tool below. Link each giveaway separately. If you need to delete it, hover over your link, wait until the red “x’’ appears and click.
    2. Giveaways must be open to Australian residents.
    3. Grab the button below to add to your post.
    4. A new list is added each Sunday so bloggers need to add their links weekly.
    5. Start entering the giveaways! Entry is at your own risk. We do not take responsibility for unfulfilled prizes or a blogger/business not abiding by their own terms and conditions.

     



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