​Not only did I save time, but to a traditional man, this simply was not right – you cant leave the same things hanging on the line for days on end – and it did not look good to the neighbours and was too unconventional – something had to be done, and it was – a clothes dryer was promptly purchased. It felt like such a luxury to have such a piece of equipment in our house – I felt like royalty…but with a twist. We could afford to buy something expensive, but too poor to use it!
At this point I didn’t understand the true efficiency of the machine, so only used it when it had been raining for a few days and the carport line was full. I no longer hung things inside as I now understood the unhealthiness of living inside a hothouse- and simply did not want to continue growing the unwanted organisms of mould and fungus. It wasn’t until one of my boys was stung twice, and hubby was also stung from a wasp inside their clothes that hanging clothing on the carport line stopped. I dreaded the power bill that month, but I needn’t have. I was now using it every second day but the criticism from its use also increased. Even these negative comments stopped however when the expensiveness of the clothes dryer came up for discussion with a visiting electrician who made the comment that one load of clothes in the dryer cost no more than between 30-50 cents!  For some this was the cost of a takeaway hot drink, or a chocolate bar a week – I don’t buy these things so my luxury item became my time.
I now have time to read to my children every day for over 30 minutes, be in the garden, spend time with hubby, visit with my friends and family, have time off. The clothes dryer can spend valuable time doing the unimportant but necessary things of life, while I spend my time doing the truly valuable things that only I can do – building relationships and memories that money cannot buy and a machine cannot do. What is the real cost of saving money when you lose precious quality time with your children? I know what is of more value.

The flowers have stopped, the phone calls have dwindled, life moves on…or so people think. For those who have lost a baby it is now the time when the next step is considered – trying again. The postnatal check has been done and the all clear given. For many their menstrual cycle has started again and so it looks like all the hurdles have been removed and a clear path has now emerged from the grey cloud of loss. Oh how I wish this were true. For many they unknowingly now enter a path strewn with emotional landmines. I just assumed that God wouldn’t hand me two lemons in a row so I expected to get pregnant again immediately after waiting the suggested six months to allow my body and mind to heal enough from the grief. A friend tried to convince me that in reality a person needed over a year to come to grips with the emotional upheaval such a massive loss would have caused. My mind was going to have a far greater impact on my ability to conceive than what I wanted, and to avoid the distress of infertility over this time it would be better to wait the year. My midwife tried to tell me the same; most people need a year to recover. I didn’t want to listen; I most certainly was not going to wait, even though I knew that this friend was not only talking from a theory standpoint but also from that of personal experience. I voraciously read everything on the subject of becoming pregnant and spent many hours talking about the subject with anyone remotely interested. I was convinced I had everything sussed. I was mistaken. Unfortunately a year is a horrendously long time to endure the torment of facing a double loss – loss of your baby and then loss of motherhood entirely. This stage of the grief journey I actually found the hardest – harder than facing the death of my baby. Each month I found I wasn’t pregnant I was distraught. All the emotions most people thought I would feel over the initial loss paled into insignificance compared with what I felt when I wasn’t pregnant – anger at the injustice of it all, sadness at my current and potential loss, isolation because I wasn’t part of my peer group with children, envy of those with their own family – I didn’t want to hear about people doing family things or talking about their family – it was too painful.
I felt different and isolated from many of my friends and family who were either pregnant or had children. Birthing was just a natural, normal event in a person’s life cycle, but I was left behind – a failure. Even women who didn’t want to get pregnant bemoaned to me of their plight. I was surrounded by unmarried mothers who simply found themselves pregnant and it was unfair. What was God doing? What was I doing so wrong He couldn’t give me a child because of it? Hearing about unwanted pregnancies caused such intense rage at God I feared it would cause internal combustion if not released through hard out ranting, raving explosions at Him, finally calming into a peaceful trust that He had it all under control.
After attending a function where the room was full of unplanned children I lamented to a friend about the injustice of it all. They answered regarding God’s part in pregnancy, “He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.” Matt 5:45. Not every baby is seen as a miracle of God but some are. Elisabeth, Hannah and Sarah were all barren until God opened their wombs. Most importantly, my friend reminded me of the wonderful fact that God loves to give good gifts to those who love Him (Matt 7:11). Later I found this pertinent passage in Psalm 37:4-9:
Psalm 37:4-9 (New Living Translation)
4 Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you your heart’s desires.
5 Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and he will help you.
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6 He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn, and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.
 7 (a)Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for him to act.

 8 Stop being angry! Turn from your rage! Do not lose your temper— it only leads to harm.

Having been so strong and in control of my emotions now became a negative instead of a positive as many people assumed that I was fine with babies, small children and bulging baby bellies. I became a baby and pregnant women magnet as often groups of young mothers and pregnant women would all come over to talk to me at once. For most weeks of the month that was fine but for times when I had just discovered I wasn’t pregnant again it was unbearable. What was I supposed to do, shun society completely? Being a teacher didn’t help as not only did I deal with other people’s children for hours each day, but I would see their parents bringing them to school accompanied by their younger siblings. My only solution was to try to think of all the positive things in my life and not focus on the fact that I may never have my own child to look after. The key character attributes I tried to focus on becoming were being brave and courageous.
Bravery had always been linked in my mind with people doing heroic things like rescuing a wounded soldier amidst crossfire, not something someone could exhibit on a day to day basis in normal life. I came to grasp the concept of enduring pain being what bravery really is all about. Staying within society when you feel hemmed in on all sides by ‘everyone’ achieving what you cannot. Enjoying life when it was so easy to say your life is the pits.
Courage is like the forerunner preparing you for bravery. Courage is the ability to control your fear in the face of pain or danger – it is the belief things will turn out right. It was so easy for me to be obsessed with the fear I would never become pregnant –my life continuing childless for the next 10 years – or until menopause- always hoping and continuously being gutted with disappointment month after month.
I read the story of Joshua and Caleb in Numbers 13 who were sent as part of a group of 12 spies to the land the Israelites were going to try to defeat. They were the only ones who showed courage by stating that though the inhabitants of the land were giants the Israelites could defeat them. They controlled their fear by putting their trust in God – believing He would lead them to victory. I too had to put my life in the hand of God knowing that although I feared the future He had my life under control and I could trust in Him and be brave and courageous.
Still, with this head knowledge, I felt very vulnerable emotionally. I hated not being in absolute control of my emotions and the situation. Equally, I hated shying away from potentially difficult situations, but I found myself not wanting to push myself beyond what I thought I could cope with. I got to the place where I couldn’t predict when I would or wouldn’t be sensitive about not being pregnant. Crying was something I knew I needed but the after effect was undesirable. My eyes would swell up and remain in this state for several hours, even overnight, irrespective of how short-lived the crying spell has been. I tried to remedy this by having what I termed ‘dry tears’.
I would tell myself each time I discovered I wasn’t pregnant yet again it was normal and healthy to feel disappointed, upset, frustrated and angry. I acknowledged and validated these emotions, hoping by doing so it would be enough – the physical act of crying wasn’t needed. It didn’t work. The hormonal and chemical release achieved through crying was as necessary as mental comforting.
As each month dragged out to a year I became more and more panicked that motherhood would never happen for me. I got to the point where I didn’t want to go to the supermarket and see all the mothers pushing their children along, I didn’t want to be asked if I was going to have more children or not. I didn’t want to phone mothers in case they stated they were too busy to talk because of some child/family related reason I should have known about before ringing at that time. Unfortunately this also impacted some of my friendships.
At a really low point I rang a friend for some encouragement. She stated she was really busy and couldn’t talk but before hanging up she said, “oh but do you have some news?” I felt like I had been kicked while down. She was too busy to talk unless I was pregnant, then she suddenly had time. Stunned a close friend could be so brutal I emailed her and explained how hurtful this had been because of my increased sensitivity to not being pregnant. My poor friend was horrified and deeply upset. Her question was concerning a job I had applied for. When she had hung up she remembered I had already told her about getting the job and so berated herself for asking such a silly question. Pregnancy was the last thing on her mind as she had made the decision not to ask about it unless I brought it up. She felt really hurt by the fact that I had misunderstood her, when she tried so hard to be sensitive and understanding. It took months to heal the wound this misunderstanding caused.
As the one year anniversary of Blair’s death loomed large on the horizon the thought of all the one year birthdays that would be celebrated at the same time I was planning an unveiling of Blair’s gravestone became overwhelming. There had been several of my friends and family who were pregnant the same time as me so the number of birthdays were significantly higher than the average, in fact one of my friends birthed her baby in the hospital room next to mine! I was becoming more and more distressed just thinking about the contrast. God in His great wisdom and mercy was acutely aware of my pain and gave me an around the world trip to plan and go on to help keep my mind off it! Being the incredible gift giver that He is, He had planned a double surprise – 14 months after Blair’s death I was finally pregnant! God’s timing was and is perfect.

What do I say? What do I do?…How could this ever happen?
It is so hard to even imagine that some day you will face intense grief over the loss of someone you love – it is even harder when the loss is that of a baby who is supposed to outlive their parents. When a loss like this occurs it seems so unnatural – so wrong, so unfair. Unfortunately no one is really prepared for coping with death – death is not something that God ever intended we would have to deal with – we are not equipped for it. Aside from all the unfairness and shock that a loss brings, one of the key concerns that those in the supporting role face is, What do I say? What do I do? A lot of people simply feel overwhelmed and avoid contact with the grieving person altogether. In fact, when my husband and I lost our first baby (born still) we had people literally trying to run away and hide when they saw us coming into a shop. I would not have been able to offer any helpful answers if I hadn’t been in the role of the griever myself previously. This is not to say that I am in ANY WAY an authority on this subject or claim to be – far from it! – everyone grieves in their own unique way, but sometimes just knowing how someone dealt with the loss of their precious baby, and what was helpful for them, can be insightful for those on the periphery watching in helplessness as a friend, family member, work colleague, neighbour… wallow in heart-wrenching agony as they endure the loss of someone so special; someone so helpless and little. Sometimes it is easier to ask the questions of what is appropriate to someone other than the person who is submerged in a sea of grief.
Over ten years ago many people will remember the news that we too, had lost our first baby. Everyone was stunned that something like this could happen to my husband and I. We had gone in for an induction, being overdue by 10 days, and when undergoing the routine ultrasound the sonographer could not find a heartbeat. I never got to hold my baby alive, never got to see Blair open his eyes, hold my hand, feel warm against my skin.
A few years previously I had felt a strange fixation to unpack the globally asked question, “Why does God allow suffering?”After losing Blair I understood why God had burnt this question into my mind until I had the issue resolved – it was to become a very personal question I would have otherwise had to have asked under the heavy, black blanket of grief. Because of this, I did not have the normal question screaming out WHY?
My questions became fixated on: Could I plan my life? Could I ever look forward to things again – get excited with things I should expect would happen? Would I ever be a mother again?
My main needs from those around were that I could simply express myself, know personally that people cared enough to phone, speak to me, send a card, send flowers, lend me books on the topic of grief and baby loss. I felt uncared for when people sent their condolences through other people. I didn’t need people to have the right words of wisdom, comfort, cheer – I just wanted them to say how they felt if they simply didn’t know what to say, to cry with me, to just sit with me, to listen to my thoughts and feelings. My hairdresser at the time was a bit speechless when she saw me come in for a haircut only a few days after the funeral. She endured the silence for several minutes and then blurted out, “I cant do this. I cant cut your hair in silence but I don’t know what to say. I know your baby has died, and I cant even imagine how you must be feeling right now, but I just don’t know what to say.” I was so relieved because I didn’t know what to say to her either – I knew from the silence that she must have known but I didn’t know if she wanted me to talk about it or not. What was I to say,”Well, had you heard that my baby had died?” – like some small chit chat about something.  I didn’t want people to tell me what they thought I should be thinking or feeling unless they had endured a very real episode of grief in their life too – then they were my heroes, my rocks where I felt I was safe to pour out my grief and know I would be understood. Everyone is so unique in the way they deal with grief. I was not angry, confused, bewildered with God, I was now just unsure of how I would do life – how could I plan for tomorrow when anything could happen? I had planned to be a mother and then was back working as a teacher a month after birthing!
Reading about the stages of grief was crucial to understanding what was going on physically, mentally, socially. Books on loss helped me to understand that at the six week mark the anesthetic of shock wears off and you are left with the raw, stark emotion of pain. You think that during the six weeks previously when everything has felt numb that you must be coping well, and have dealt with the loss – but no – you are just literally numb – anesthetized! At the six week mark you think you are losing the plot and suddenly cant cope, you cry all the time, every little thing sets you off, you cant concentrate when people are talking to you, you cant remember what you were about to do, you cant stand any extra noises, and for me, I wished I could have died with my baby so that I would never have had to say goodbye before I could have said hello. Your visitors have gone home, the mail box is no longer bulging with cards, you’re not working, and most of the phone calls have stopped. You are no longer an expectant mum, an employee, and a lot of friends now don’t really know what to say as they think its time to just move on – most not consciously – but its just part of life. At this point it is fabulous to talk with other people who have been through a baby loss – they will know it is not time to have moved on – loss is like dealing with an amputated limb – you never ‘get over the loss’ you just learn to cope and adjust to life differently but the loss will always be there – your baby will never be forgotten – they will always be a part of your memories and life, they will always have their role in your family – the first born, second born etc.
It was also good to be aware of the differing needs of the griever according to their personality. I went straight from the hospital where I birthed, to a maternity ward in the small town I lived. I slept among the sound of newborns crying, and during the day could hear the babies’ small siblings running around the rooms. I could hear visitors chatting and cooing excitedly over the new babies. Mainly though I had many visitors and phone calls both on the ward phone and on my cell phone, so for the most part I was not alone much of the time. Some of my visitors came with their children, and I coped because I was in the early stages of grieving – often I would feel like I was having an out of body experience because I would think, “This should be really upsetting but it’s strangely not”. I was numb to a lot of things. In hindsight, I think it is better for people to visit without their children – I had not only lost my baby, but also the joy of being a doting mother for that baby. I especially appreciated the visitors who came frequently and would ring before visiting just to ask if there was anything I needed and then would be happy to do what was requested; even for strange things such as getting a cabbage to ease engorged breasts. I enjoyed the company and the support of the nurses on duty who helped when my milk came in, and were there to chat when all the visitors had gone home. They were there to look at the all the baby photos and assure me that in time I would be a mum again; God would look after me according to what He saw to be the best for my life.
For my husband though, his needs were vastly different from mine. He didn’t like the hustle and bustle of a lot of visitors. He went home when I went to the maternity ward, and would talk to me early on the phone each morning or late at night because he didn’t want to be home when people would come to visit or ring him. He liked to be out and about on the farm with the milking cows – talking to them and just being in the open. I was happy for him to do his thing, and he was happy for me to cope in my way – neither of us would have been happy if we had forced the other to be where we wanted to be.
Because I discussed Blair with so many people, and allowed myself to freely grieve (I regularly went into Blair’s room and watched the scans) I was out and about in the public fairly quickly; I was back primary teaching in the school I had previously taught before taking leave, within a month of birthing. My first class was that of new entrants – short, straight talkers! Within an hour of being in the classroom one child could not contain themselves and stated, “My Mum and Dad said your baby is sick”, to which another child emphatically responded, “No, her baby is not sick, her baby is dead!” Its always good to tell a child the real story. Because people thought I must be fine, or I wouldn’t be dealing with children, some would come up to me as I was dealing with a bunch of children and tell me how sorry they were to hear about my loss – just because I looked fine in public didn’t mean I could deal with the loss being brought up in front of other people. And so passed the first six weeks of dealing with something that should have been so natural – and successful; I didn’t know it at the time but the long, hard, difficult journey had only begun!

“I don’t know what T shirt to wear?”
“I can’t get into my clothes by myself!”
These sort of statements can be really tedious when whining out of the mouth of a competent four year old just as you are trying to pry your eyes open in the small hours of the morning.
On top of this we then ran out of PJ tops. Trying to find cotton PJs in a small town was actually much harder than I thought it would be. Polyester this, and polyester that – fine if you would like to sleep in plastic! So the solution then was for my oldest son Zak to simply put on a long top – fine for winter, but what about summer? – you guessed it, a T shirt. Zak and I then chatted through the possibility of him just wearing boxes to bed and wa la…we came up with the winning formula! Now all this may not sound incredible, and I didn’t really fully get the implications until the next morning when Zak bounced out of bed, put a pair of shorts on, and was dressed within seconds – he was impressed! I then thought, if its good for the big boy, its good for the smaller one, and there vanished the whining about T shirts and getting dressed in the morning – yay – a whinge free morning!!
After this discovery I then read an article about bed bugs and the need for the bed to be aired out to dehydrate and obliterate the little critters – and the penny dropped – not only is the T shirt and boxes for night – and then for the next day – so convenient – but it also means that their bed clothes are being changed daily rather than the normal weekly change of PJs – got to be better for you!! When other people had told me about going camping and wearing their fresh clothes for night clothes my immediate reaction was yuck! but I would then put on my PJs that I had been wearing all week – 7 days verses 1 night and one day!! Another lady had told me also how her mornings were so manic she would sleep in her clothes so once awake she just got out of bed and got going – and again my thought was one of repulsion – how could anyone sleep in jeans!!  Its amazing how you can just assume what people are wearing and not realise that their trackpants are only slightly thicker than your PJs, and they would be worn less than your PJ pants!
Now I’m on the look out for shorts for me that can be worn to bed and then for during the day….

For years I had nagged, whined, demanded, reasoned, and out and out fussed with, “You should look after the kids because you’re a parent too!”, “I need some time off, you have lots of it.” and other statements that brought about nothing more than annoyance on his behalf, and volcano-erupting frustration on mine. I tried different tactics, read umpteen self-help books, and talked to an endless number of people to discover their secret for success – all to no avail. Everything I read confirmed that it WAS my right to have timeoff, it WAS my right to have the parenthood load halved by the other parent. Most other parents had opted for the forced approach and simply threatened to leave, or did temporarily, shocking the partner into fulfilling their role – I didn’t think this was a good option for me – there had to be a better way.
Then along came, The Pineapple Story THE PINEAPPLE STORY FULL INSPIRATIONAL – YouTube. Otto Konning describes his experience with dealing with natives who continuously stole his pineapples while he is in the role of doing missionary work for them within their village. He is so open and humourous with the way he recounts his story that I watched it twice in the first sitting. I then purchased the set so I could listen to them all while driving. The whole set can be purchased by emailing Gordon on: ati@iblp.org.nz from the website: http://ati.iblp.org.nz. Otto’s doctrine on life after death differs from mine but other than that the messages are ones to change your life. Once slotted in my car CD player I became fixated on listening to the story over and over again, intuitively knowing that within this story was the inspired answer and solution to my problem. After the sixth time of listening to the story I realised that his message was based on a principle that was taught by Bill Gothard and so jumped onto Bill’s website and read the article on rights: http://iblp.org/questions/what-principle-ownership.  After reading this I realised I had just been given the escape route from anger, frustration and helplessness. This was message I finally got:

1. Just as it was Otto’s right to keep his pineapples and not have them stolen, so it was my right to have to time off.
2. Getting angry and demanding my rights like Otto did over his pineapples did not make the people respect his rights but just increased his stress, just like it did with me.
3. Realising that God is interested in our rights and that it is His responsibility to ensure our rights are respected gives peace, and the ability to be serene regardless of how the other person is treating your rights.
4. Once the control of the situation has been given over to God He can then sort the problem – ownership, and His right to work on our behalf needs to be done before He can work in our lives – or we think we have sorted the problem ourselves.
5. God has a myriad of unique and ‘out of the box’ ways of sorting the problem and He will do it – if this is the best thing for us and the other person – but the outcome isn’t our concern – He will look after our wellbeing. I had no idea that having two full days off once a year was all I really wanted and needed to recharge my batteries – but God did, and He has been working it out ever since to give me time when I need it.
6. Letting God sort my problems was not only beneficial to me, but my whole family were taken out from under continuously brewing storm conditions – which made for an alround happier marriage and parenting experience. I feel far more content with being with my children and husband rather than continously fixating on when I will have ‘me time’ because I know I’ll get the time when I need to have it.

30 minutes later you have finally decided what you are going to wear to an event and the deep voice of your beloved live-in critic starts their appraisal:

“You’re not wearing that are you?”

“That top gapes.”

“You cant wear those shoes!”

“What did you buy that for?”

Finally you have had enough and your fashion esteem has not only gone out the window but you wish you could follow it as the last two attempts at changing into something acceptable has made the whole family late!

What do you do? Do you just resign yourself to the fact that they don’t like what you wear and so decide to wear really outrageous stuff just to prove your individuality, or do you have a fashion parade every time you go out as a family just to make sure they approve? or is there another option? There is!

For those who share a home with a live-in critic you realise after a short space of time, that you can either be in a war zone 24/7 or you can come to the infuriating discovery that sometimes the critic is actually frustratingly right! I read an article on overcoming criticism and their advice was to simply agree with the critic – it takes the enjoyment completely out of the activity for them and the quantity of criticism decreases. So…with this in mind I decided to give it a go with the wardrobe.

Firstly I did my own personal work on my wardrobe overhaul by:

• culling all the clothes that didn’t fit – too small or too big
• culling the ones I knew just didn’t suit – either style or colour
• putting the clothes that I would fight to the death to keep to one side in the wardrobe.
• inviting one of my fashion-savvy friends over who loves helping me with my clothing dilemmas  to go through my wardrobe with me. She did a fabulous job and many more items were culled – I even came to the shocking realisation that my favourite jacket was two sizes too big – after just spouting that this would be the one clothing item I would run in and save if the house was on fire (naturally this would be after the husband, kids, cat, valuable documents etc were safe!)

So, after all the hard culling work was done, I then told hubby that all he had to do was prop himself up with pillows on the bed, relax, and I would give him a fashion parade of my clothes without the time crunch factoring in. It would take approximately 40 minutes and then he was free to go. This activity would save him countless hours of frustration by speeding up the whole process of getting ready – it would also earn him a bucket load of brownie points.

The fun began. I had given him permission to be as blunt as he wanted – i.e. “yes you do look fat in that”. I was expecting to have nothing left in my wardrobe but to my great delight he was actually really constructive. Amazingly there were clothes he did like, and the ones he didn’t were explained with valid reasons. The feminine side of my bloke actually existed! The process took exactly 40 minutes.
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Well, the criticism dramatically lessened as I took to heart the basic reasons he didn’t like certain items i.e. gaped, was impractical (didn’t cover my back properly) etc, and he didn’t want to have to endure another fashion-parade and… each time he doesn’t like something and I don’t love the item I give it away – and he sees his hard earned cash clothing someone else! He’s decided that silence is not only golden but also cheaper!

You may not be able to see them, but in my children’s hands are secret spy phones!! – well this is what they were told to find all through the store by the amazing Tony Friend pictured – isn’t it cool when someone’s name fits them so perfectly! I had arrived at the store half-way through my shopping stint so the boys were getting a bit restless. I had tried placing them on a mat but I hadn’t noticed the overhanging sleeping bags that had gold sewn in the seams, that were just too tempting for a three year old not to try to swing off! With a few screeches, and fire coming out my ears I was tossing up whether or not to flag the fabulous sale and leave before I had more to pay in damages than in bargains when along breezed Tony.

“Can I help?”, he cheerfully asked.

Well….this wasn’t the time to be polite and beat around the bush – I had my own mission to accomplish and I couldn’t do that with two restless units of energy waiting to be plugged into trouble rolling around on the floor.

“Yes, can you deal with these two so I can shop in peace please?”
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There done it. I’ve admitted I’m not coping with my offspring to a complete stranger! Quick as a flash, Tony got down to the boys level and with big animated eyes said that there were spies in the store and he needed the two of them to help him find all the special phones that had been planted in the store. They were his special secret agents and they had a very important mission to complete! Well, he didn’t know that my children don’t watch TV, read comics or other fiction books and would never have heard of spies before in their lives, but they captured the fun in his voice and just set off with the new found freedom of roaming the entire store, diving under clothes racks and running around squealing with delight at finding plastic coat hanger numbers! I was ecstatic at now being able to shop in peace but my ‘Yeah ha!’ balloon popped when I realised that now I actually needed help with deciding what to purchase! This was a bit of a dilemma – have my kids supervised or make an uninformed buy. While I pondered this, Tony reappeared and asked if I needed any help – what a man! So, with kids running up to him with spy gadgets and a mother who needs to make the purchase quickly but with lots of information Tony was able to manage the whole package effortlessly – well I found out he did have four kids of his own – so he had the kid skills there!
Twenty minutes later the boys had completed their important mission and not only came away with memories of special spy phones but were also given a hacky sack each – they were too very happy little people – with one very happy mummy who had a big bag of bargains to carry out! – thank you Tony – you’re a star!

Mothers dream of having a day off where they can relax knowing that the children are cared for and the only person they have to think about is themselves – Oh blissful thought! Unfortunately for most of us, the person left in charge of the small beings doesn’t always realise that the role of mother involves more than just playing games with the children and watching movies. Normally the task is carried out alongside a never-ending round of housework, meals, phone calls, nappies and other domestic drudgery. The smell of a dirty nappy normally wafts up just when you’re on roll with getting lunch ready, and the phone always goes as an all out war breaks out between the siblings – again when you’re trying to make lunch! So, with all this in mind it is no wonder that the person in charge of the house for the day puts their feet up, ignores the housework (doesn’t even notice its there) and feeds the kids convenience foods from the freezer. 
All this would be manageable, if it wasn’t for the fact that the housework didn’t take a day off – the mother did, and any revitalization she may have gained from the ‘day off’ has to bid her well for two days worth of work facing her the next day.
So what can be done about this?, you may be saying as you fling your hands in the air in desperation. Yes, you do actually need to take a break from the house and the continual responsibility of small people, no one can live on no time off. These are my remedies so far:

1. Try to have the children looked after outside of the house so the mess cant be created there, encourage the other parent to take them out or get someone else to look after them – or a combination of the two.
2. Have the meal idea already planned so the kids will be fed something that is not going to make them diabolical the next day.
3. Get the housework mainly completed before you go out so you don’t have twice as much to do the next day – i.e if you put clean linen on the beds on the day you are going out then do that first – get the kids to pitch in and help get the task done quickly.
4. Get more household appliances to help do your work for you – if the other parent won’t do the work then get a gadget that will – i.e. use the clothes drier either before you go out or after you get back – just imagine you have paid someone to come in to do your work for you since you are having the day off 
5. Set very clear times for when you are leaving the house and coming back so there is no coming in late to take over or expecting you back earlier.
6. You deserve to have time off so demand it – what you are really convinced you need you will make sure will happen – plan the day well in advance and don’t take no for an answer – pay someone if need be – or at least have this as a backup plan and incentive for the other person to save some money by doing it themselves.
7. Make sure that the day will be fun and successful for the person looking after the children – have clothes set out for getting changed into, any medicine needs clearly written out, the menu planned, bed times, food times all clearly stated – there should be no guesswork needed.
8. Make sure the children have had a good night sleep the night before so they are angelic and a pleasure to look after – it is tempting to do the opposite as you don’t have to be the one looking after them, and it would be good for the other person to experience what you have to put up with – but this will not help your cause in the long-run 
9. Bribe the children and other parent with gifts for good behaviour for the day – special treat food is always good – this will also encourage more time off in the future.
10. Lastly, as the children age get them to help more and more with the housework on a daily basis so that when you do have a day off they are helping to hold the fort while you are gone – nothing like a toddler telling their father that, “Mummy doesn’t let us get all the toys out at once”, to help keep things in order 

Go on, take a break – you deserve it!!! 

Okara Polworths and Postie are the stores of the week!
Polworths
In Polworths both boys (Zak 6.5yrs and Callum 3yrs) had a blast getting animal cards with Trish, and sitting all cozy with Karen on the couch looking at Zak’s insect book. Zak is a happy shopper if he is able to chat to everyone and share whatever book is his favourite for the day. Both boys now go straight into the shop ahead of me and head straight for the couch – leaving the attendants to ponder when the mother is going to arrive in the store  He is being trained not to talk when other customers are in the store 
Postie
Mea, in the Postie store, was an absolute legend! Her adventure with my boys began with accepting an insect sticker from Zak and sticking it on her hand. I thought this could start the beginning of a fabulous shopping experience, but unfortunately only Zak wanted to start the budding friendship, and Callum wanted to proceed at causing chaos in the store. After several items had to be retrieved off the floor I had a sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to work after all – and I had been able to locate several items to try on which make it more discouraging. Fortunatelymagnificent Mea was still hovering around, and I suggested to the children that they follow her around for awhile so I could try the clothes on. To my relief they happily totted after her, and bless her heart, she announced to her merry little band of males that they were off to see something more exciting – the kids’ clothes section!  Zak came back with a couple of tee shirts for him and Callum, after which I sent them off again to look for sweatshirts and PJs in their size. Mea acted like the Pied Piper of Postie and called out, “Come on boys!”, and they obediently followed. I was able to try things on in peace and make some wise shopping purchases rather than rushed ones because I just want to be able to buy something and escape with the noisy little beings as quickly as possible. On reflecting on this experience, I’m going to get the boys colours done, so this will hopefully open up a whole new shopping experience with Zak leading the way with the help of an assistant to get clothes for him and Callum while I shop for myself…we will all be happy shoppers!
Well done ladies – you are all amazing!!!

Phew! – my angel has returned!
Lacking sleep – yikes we’ve got a monster in the house!

Yesterday morning Zak(6 yrs) erupted out of his room like some tormented demon! He crashed into Callum’s room before 7am, and proceeded to enrage Callum. “Mummy hug” were shouted from the room as I drowsily became aware of the human volcano exploding in the room next door. Lots of crashing, and shrieking, and finally after much yelling on my behalf, Zak let Callum out of his room to come running to the safety of his mother. Zak chased him down the hallway shouting and screaming as he ran (I could almost see the black clouds with lightening flashing out them over his head), and I breathed a sigh of exhaustion, and the day had only started! I then proceeded to go and get Callum dressed after repeatedly telling Zak to do the same which he ignored and continued roaring around the house. As I entered Callum’s room I was hit with the results of a storm as the spare bed was disheveled; toys were all over Callum’s bed, and the coverings on the chair were sprawled around the room. The contents of a big black rubbish bag full of unwanted stuff to give away was strewn around the room, and books covered the floor from the bookshelf. Zak was told to come and clean up the mess but after several screeches, tears and an inability to even stay in one spot was evident, I finished dressing Callum and headed for the kitchen. Breakfast was full of tears and moaning, pouting and general fussing. Bryce commented that it was going to be a loooong day! Which is was! Fortunately Zak realised that fussing and whining was giving him a headache, and settled into his schoolwork and spent the rest of the day doing jobs to earn the points he had accummulated off the behaviour chart from the mornings tantruming and misdemeanors. I found out that he had chosen to go to sleep after 8pm,(although who really knows what time he did actually go to sleep if he was awake to know what the time was!) even though he had been put to bed really early at 6:30pm for obnoxious behaviour. Callum spent most of his day avoiding Zak by being outside, as he didn’t want to be the object that was kicked and shoved like other things in the house were. I felt absolutely frazzled by the end of the day, and we were all happy to put the yawning monster to bed, hoping the angel would emerge the next morning!

Summary of my tired monster:
* controlling
* inconsiderate
* grumpy
* cant concentrate
* cries easily
* defiant
* destructive
* angry/aggressive
* selfish
* unreasonable
* irrational
* reactive (nuclear!!!)
* blames everyone else for his problems

Well rested – the angel returns!

Zak must have gone straight to sleep when put to bed at 7pm as here is the difference. He woke up at 7am, read some books, got dressed, set the table, including putting the food out and rinsing apples. He waited until I was awake (7:45am – Callum hadn’t been angelic and woke up three times in the night) then came in to say what he had done. I hadn’t even heard him get up and get dressed. Three smily faces were put on his behaviour chart, then he helped me prepare the rest of the breakfast, then went and got Callum up without any screeching, made my bed, helped Callum up to the table, bibbed Callum up, and waited patiently while breakfast was dished out – both kids smiling and singing in the interim. Zak then proceeded to get his schoolwork done without being asked, and subsequently went into town with his Dad and Callum, and acted like a star the whole time. Who would have thought that sleep could have made such a difference!
​
Summary of rested angel:
* considerate
* helpful
* thoughtful
* on task
* pleasant to be around
* kind
* compliant
* focused on making other people happy
* happy
* affectionate
* sharing

Lacking sleep – yikes we’ve got a monster in the house!
​
Yesterday morning Zak(6 yrs) erupted out of his room like some tormented demon! He crashed into Callum’s room before 7am, and proceeded to enrage Callum. “Mummy hug” were shouted from the room as I drowsily became aware of the human volcano exploding in the room next door. Lots of crashing, and shrieking, and finally after much yelling on my behalf, Zak let Callum out of his room to come running to the safety of his mother. Zak chased him down the hallway shouting and screaming as he ran (I could almost see the black clouds with lightening flashing out them over his head), and I breathed a sigh of exhaustion, and the day had only started! I then proceeded to go and get Callum dressed after repeatedly telling Zak to do the same which he ignored and continued roaring around the house. As I entered Callum’s room I was hit with the results of a storm as the spare bed was disheveled; toys were all over Callum’s bed, and the coverings on the chair were sprawled around the room. The contents of a big black rubbish bag full of unwanted stuff to give away was strewn around the room, and books covered the floor from the bookshelf. Zak was told to come and clean up the mess but after several screeches, tears and an inability to even stay in one spot was evident, I finished dressing Callum and headed for the kitchen. Breakfast was full of tears and moaning, pouting and general fussing. Bryce commented that it was going to be a loooong day! Which it was! Fortunately Zak realised that fussing and whining was giving him a headache, and settled into his schoolwork and spent the rest of the day doing jobs to earn the points he had accummulated off the behaviour chart from the mornings tantruming and misdemeanors. I found out that he had chosen to go to sleep after 8pm,(although who really knows what time he did actually go to sleep if he was awake to know what the time was!) even though he had been put to bed really early at 6:30pm for obnoxious behaviour. Callum spent most of his day avoiding Zak by being outside, as he didn’t want to be the object that was kicked and shoved like other things in the house were. I felt absolutely frazzled by the end of the day, and we were all happy to put the yawning monster to bed, hoping the angel would emerge the next morning!
Summary of my tired monster:

• controlling
• inconsiderate
• grumpy
• couldn’t concentrate
• cried easily
• defiant
• destructive
• angry/aggressive
• selfish
• unreasonable
• irrational
• reactive (nuclear!!!)
• blamed everyone else for his problems

Well rested – the angel returns!
Zak must have gone straight to sleep when put to bed at 7pm as here is the difference. He woke up at 7am, read some books, got dressed, set the table, including putting the food out and rinsing apples. He waited until I was awake (7:45am – Callum hadn’t been angelic and woke up three times in the night) then came in to say what he had done. I hadn’t even heard him get up and get dressed. Three smily faces were put on his behaviour chart, then he helped me prepare the rest of the breakfast, then went and got Callum up without any screeching, made my bed, helped Callum up to the table, bibbed Callum up, and waited patiently while breakfast was dished out – both kids smiling and singing in the interim. Zak then proceeded to get his schoolwork done without being asked, and subsequently went into town with his Dad and Callum, and acted like a star the whole time. Who would have thought that sleep could have made such a difference!
Summary of rested angel:

• considerate
• helpful
• thoughtful
• on task
• pleasant to be around
• kind
• compliant
• focused on making other people happy
• happy
• affectionate
• sharing

As I keep chugging through my revision of Living the Fairy Tale, I read an email from someone suffering from unrequited love and wanting to know how to move on when they see the one they love with someone else. My reply was just my revision in a nutshell. Thought I would share my thoughts so far and see if people had any comments to make “Since writing my first book Living the Fairy Tale I have come to realise
that the whole issue my book is centred on is that of unrequited love – a love relationship that is only one way – one person is in love but the other person in the relationship is not. This unfortunate experience can happen to both men and women. My current book is based on my experience – hence from a woman’s point of view. I am doing a revision at the moment after reading another book which covers the results of a study of over 150 uni students (male and female) and their experiences with unrequited love. I have been able to see the other side of the story (that of the person rejecting the
one in love with them) and understand why they would do that, as it seems so
bizarre that someone cant love someone who loves them so deeply. The
revision is going to take several months so in the meantime here are my
thoughts for you based on what I’ve researched and experienced.

Firstly – I so feel for you – it is a horrible place to be when the person
you are in love with doesn’t feel the same way. It makes you feel rejected,
second-rate, undesirable.

Secondly – Just because they aren’t in love with you doesn’t mean that no-one
else will. The person who is truly in love with you will want to be with
you, love you entirely and make you feel treasured and first-rate. Someone
who cant offer you this is short-changing not only themselves but ultimately
you – they are therefore not the one you would want to spend the rest of
your life with – you would both be miserable. In saying this, there are
people out there who do persevere with trying to win the love of the person
of their dreams, and sometimes they are successful – however, this is only
rare, and it is like people saying they can smoke because they know of
someone who lived to be 100 yrs and smoke and drank all their life – for
most people 3 out of 4 people who smoke will get cancer. If someone wants to
end the relationship, let them, knowing that they will make your life a
misery if you force something that is not meant to be.

Lastly, love is a fickle, irrational thing that is often illogical – there
are some people who would desperately want to be able to return the love but
the spark just isnt there – so its either there or not, and cant be made. No
matter what you do, say, think, you will never be able to be what they need
you to be – and that’s just for them – not because you’re not a wonderful
person etc – its just that the chemistry between you and them isnt there,
this often comes across as not being good enough, or below them, but the
reality is that its just not a good match for what you both need.
I would love to be able to say that the person who you would be in love
with, and they in turn in love with you is out there, but I cant. The best
way to find them is to being living a life you love, and this will not only
help you, but attract the right person. In turn, if the woman you are in
love with does decide that you are the one for them, then she also will be
attracted to someone who has a life. Moving on can only be done when you
truly value yourself and realise that you need the whole package –
reciprocated love – you love them, they love you – happy ending. My current
book covers alot more information on how to move on that I think you would
really find invaluable – it also gives you the signs to know when someone is
not in love with you or is – it helped me find my soulmate – well actually
for him to find me as I was out having a life! 

I hope this is helpful and I look forward to hearing your thoughts from a male perspective.”

Shop Assistant of the Week goes to Gwen from Chances Takanini!
After my last encounter with the worst assistant of the week (who could have entered Zak’s book of unlikely friendships), it was such a contrast to then be privileged to be assisted by the remarkable Gwen. Even before I entered the store, Gwen had welcomed Zak and was instantly listening to his incessant chatter about the lastest book he had been given by his wonderful Aunty Kylie. Callum was also interacted with for the brief few seconds he stood still. I was able to look around the store without a kid-appendage and worrying about the small fry making a runner for the front door as soon as I entered the changing room. Naturally the kids were both sardined into the changing room when other customers entered the store, but when I became the sole customer again they were able to be released to assist Gwen again. Both were able to ferry clothes from the booth to the counter with the words, ‘too small’, or ‘too big’ or ‘just not mummy’. Both boys were kept busy being ‘really helpful’, and Zak took great pride in selecting items saying, ‘These are the colours mummy likes.’ We all came out of the store content with our experience, knowing that the shop assistant really is the one who can channel the boundless energy of boys into a source of help or hindrance. Gwen you’re a star! 

“You should keep your offspring under control…if you can.”
This was said to me today by a female sales assistant at a clothing store. A huge smile adorned her face and I simply could not work out whether she was joking or not. It doesn’t help that my brain doesn’t function instantly when in a state of shock. My natural reaction was to laugh, just assuming that someone who was supposed to be keeping customers happy and in their store, couldn’t have just been blunt and obnoxious. The other reaction was to simply ignore it, thinking that if she had actually been serious then she obviously was not a parent who had been shopping with small children before – and therefore was acting like a complete ignoramus and worthy of defying.
To set the scene. Zak, 6 years, and Callum 2.5 years (both boys – an important thing to know) had already endured 3 hours of one shopping mall already and this was their second. Outside the clothing shop I had given them a short break and they had been able to play rapturously  in a ride-on icecream truck before they were herded back into the store to see how their aunty was getting on with her clothes selections. Once in the changing room area they would normally have been able to make faces at themselves in the mirrors, and roll and crawl around a spare cubicle. Unfortunately the cubicles all had to be used and Callum then decided, “Why on earth am I in this shop when I could be on the icecream truck”, and bolted for the front doors. Of course I ran after him and dragged him back in. My sister needed a different size of an item which I went to get, leaving behind both children lying under the door of my sister’s cubicle chatting away to her. As I approached the cubicle again I was given the order by the salesperson to keep my kids under control… or was she joking? How could you be serious and say that sort of thing with a full smile? Why would an assistant say that to a customer?If I hadn’t been so shocked I should have asked her right then and there if she was trying in a warped way to be funny. As I walked out of the store I ummed and ahhed about clarifying it with her but decided not to – who really wants to know the full opinion of someone who either has a warped since of humour or is completely clueless about small males and shopping – late in the afternoon! But then…I have a habit of taking criticism way too seriously and personally – was it a joke?
Parents – what would you have thought and done?  

Hi everyone,
I have just revamped my blog page and want to invite you to come on over and check it out!  I desperately want to finish revising my book on unrequited love but need YOUR help. How does someone avoid experiencing a platonic friendship gone wrong? Can unrequited love be dodged? On parenting: What tips can you give to help enjoy your parenthood rather than simply enduring it – the clamor for the elusive Motherhood Bliss! I look forward to your words that can then enhance mine, and finally enrich the lives of many readers – and their kids and partners! Click on over.

Zak has only just turned six – evidence supplied below and already he is fast becoming a phenomenal shopper! Today he showed another mum how to get the sizing right for gumboots for her son. This had followed promptly after she had said a few expletives and stated that gumboots should be made transparent so you can see how far the toe is from the end. Obviously Zak had learnt from the best  and told her to put her son’s foot on the sole of the boot – which I commend her for – she did. However, this is minor compared to the shopping marathon Zak had endured only a couple of days before! I had a moment of complete and utter madness – (it was actually desperation as I’ve got limited winter clothes) – and decided I would attempt to go clothes shopping again with a toddler and 6 yr old. I had completed the styles test below the night before discovering after 41 years what type of clothes are really ‘me’ – I’m a creative natural. With this new knowledge I felt confident I was ready to launch out.
http://www.thechicfashionista.com/fashion-style-quiz.html#Quiz
The last time I attempted to go shopping with two kids it took me days to recover, and I had promised myself I would wait several years before ever putting myself through that self-inflicted torture again! With a few bribes up my sleeve we got through the morning and then we came to the store Max. An hour later (with a toilet stop half way – don’t you hate that!!!) Zak was having an absolute blast choosing clothes he knew mummy would like the colour of – red, turquoise and black, and bringing them to the changing rooms. Even Callum got into the swing of it and was carting the clothes out of the changing room saying, ‘no,no,no’ – his favourite word of course!! (alongside ‘Mama’ and ‘digger’ – no connection! ). I’m just kicking myself now that I didn’t take a pic of the two in action – next time!! Callum had managed to help himself to the Max stickers behind the counter and had them plastered all over his front – I managed to get stickered in the process also  Angela, the Max assistant, was incredible and learnt a lot of information about sharks throughout the process –  Zak had earnt himself a book on sharks from the previous store – which worked a treat for the stores leading up to the Max stop. This definitely was a great purchase! Unfortunately the shopping binge was short-lived as I had to beat the parking meter warden to my car, and I had to forgo the talk about the other great deals Max had going in the store. Four purchases later we were heading out of Whangarei with three very satisfied shoppers – Zak – mummy had bought the things he had chosen, Callum –  had scored a myriad of stickers and was integral to helping mummy, and of course, mummy – actually came out of the store with more than just frazzled nerves and a headache! Even after all this success, Zak was still open to the idea of what could be done better next time, and was handed the colour palate booklet showing which colours suited me (based on the seasons Winter, Summer, Autumn and Spring from the company Colour Me Beautiful). He learnt that next time he could go around the store and find items that mummy not only liked but that matched her colour booklet. Style will be next, alongside Shape – his future wife will most certainly thank me!!!

Journey begins
I have just come back from a trip to the South Island of NZ with a friend and my two children – Zak aged 5 – nearly 6, and Callum 2 yrs 3 months. Below is a pic of the fun just beginning! You can see that Zak is fully equipped to be self-sufficient with his leap pad and headphones – but what you cant see is that he is carrying a full arsenal of books and toys for Callum – I’m always forever hopeful that at some stage I will actually get to do some reading of my own – and what better place than on a plane! Well I did manage to get a few pages read after realizing my friend Lyn was simply watching the screen and dozing behind me – obviously bored and in need of some kid entertainment – so we swapped seats – what bliss! I only realised later that she was actually recovering from the shock of missing our first flight (misread the ticket with our departure time on it), and was battling a fever brought on from having the flu!
​
Invercargill
Well, the trip progressed with a visit to my grandmother, the Invercargill museum and park. Invercargill outdid itself weather wise, as was informed by my aunt, the day before leaving to head south, that I should pack all my winter gear – so my bags was bursting at their seams with thermals, jeans and the like. Feeling very prepared I was therefore not expecting to be greeted by a tee-shirt, short-wearing aunt who had just emerged from gardening in the sun!

Dunedin – on the way
All was good though, as once we headed toward Dunedin we needed our winter woollies.  On our way we stopped to view the waterfalls that line that route and I was amazed how fast you can walk with a toddler when you have a person holding a hand each side – he swung down steps and enjoyed every moment of it. However, I didn’t fully understand the difference until I walked with him by myself – and we were certainly on the slow coach then! Its amazing how many fascinating grey stones and moss a 2yr old can find on a path! I tried to just soak in the sun, enjoying the leisurely stroll and not focus on the ever increasing distance between Lyn and Zak ahead of me! Of course, this put us behind schedule but I became more and more aware of the need to also be on toddler time and let him relish in new discoveries too.

Arrival in Dunedin 
Penguins, seals and albatross
Penguins, seals and albatross were all gooed at, although again Callum was more fascinated by the grey stones lining the beach than the seal that was only a couple of metres away from him! He was also very adamant that night that the bird he had just seen waddle up near him was a duck not a penguin, and pointed at the sign with a picture of the penguins and said, ‘duck’ and then pointed to where he had seen the penguin waddle passed him and again very firmly stated ‘duck’ – there was no fooling him!

Larnach’s Castle
Next on the agenda was Larnach’s Castle which I’m pleased I had seen before as spent most of my time making sure Callum didn’t run off or duck under a rope and destroy something.

Olveston House    www.olveston.co.nz
Olveston House matched this experience although worse as I hadn’t already visited it previously, so I really did want to take it all in. We had to be part of a guided tour but after five minutes the guide was continuously peering in my direction with comments of, “Don’t let him into the other room”, when he had moved 20 cms from my leg, and “Please make sure he doesn’t touch anything or lean on anything”, when his head brushed the cord fencing off the exhibits. After several screeches when I tried to pick Callum up, I had the sinking feeling that yet again I would miss out on something I was really looking forward to. Thankfully at this precise moment the tour guide announced – “for your own comfort I think it will be best if you and your family are on your own tour and can go at the pace of your toddler.” I wasn’t quite sure how this would all pan out, but I soon discovered that the pace of a toddler means that you take 20 minutes to do a tour that would normally take 60 minutes! Hence I bought the booklet and managed to read two pages of it on the plane! Callum also decided that the trip was also the time for some teeth to move around also and I had several nights of broken sleep – resulting in late starts. This also meant that I found it hard to play happy mummy on the plane when I was constantly being interrupted – Callum doesn’t understand the concept of redeeming his little self and making up for taking mummy’s ‘Me time’, and sabotaging memorable moments  All this I suppose, makes the transition from being out and about, to then being back home to the grind that bit easier – at least at home you can send them both out to the sandpit and write your blog in peace! They say a change is as good a break, and yes it does break the monotony of the housework grind – but I don’t think travelling with children is something I would put in the restful and relaxing category! – bless their little cotton socks!

Thank you to another mum who has left some responses to the questions for Motherhood Bliss? It is so amazing to get other people’s insights, thoughts and feelings on these issues – thank you so much for contributing! ​

The first system I have discovered accidentally is that of having 3 laundry baskets and sorting as I take items off the clothes line i.e. I have 1/2 of the clothes basket for one child’s items, the other 1/2 for the other child. Another basket has all the linen etc. I fold big items like towels and bedding as I take it off the clothes line. Once inside I dump each child’s items in a hamper in their bedroom. This process takes out the step where I dump the unfolded/sorted clean laundry onto the couch or bed, and then face a mountainous pile that leaves me feeling completely overwhelmed as it is normally faced just before going to bed because I have forgotten about it – or deliberately avoided it for as long as I can! You also don’t have to dump clean laundry out if you have other things to get out of the machine – because you have another couple of baskets to use.
After using this system I would not go back to the old one – my husband – bless his cotton socks – got a couple of loads of washing off the line for me the other day and just dumped everything into the basket – as is normal! – and I again had to face the mountainous pile that was dumped on my bed as a result – took me three times as long to process and again – was done at the end of a long, hard day.
Love to hear all your ideas

I have now got sections for each of the areas that I would like comments for. I will post my answers and the answers of others I have received so far onto this site soon! Looking forward to some fascinating reading!! ​