tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69098677528996757752024-02-19T10:58:33.316+08:00A Mummy in a Strange LandBLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.comBlogger151125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-13660961077905126262018-03-23T11:50:00.003+08:002018-03-23T11:50:57.712+08:00Full CircleWow! It's been a really long time since I've written a post. The reason for that being that I've had a "real job" for the last few years, and writing for a living sapped my will to <strike>live </strike>write for fun most days. But I'm back, and I hope to be back for good, no matter what other commitments get in the way. Because I love to write. Whether I do it well remains to be seen, but it's something I need to do.<br />
<br />
I started this blog almost eight years ago as I was finding my feet as a new parent in a foreign country. If I've realised anything in that time it's that it doesn't really matter where in the world you are; Parenting is a constant process of finding your feet. The fact that I sometimes have to deal with unfamiliar systems, a culture that's not my own and a completely foreign language doesn't mean I have it any harder than anyone else. I have actually struggled at times when parenting in my home country, because I was young and single when I last lived there, and I never had to deal with any of this parenting business back then. So, in truth, I am clueless most of the time regardless.<br />
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And each stage of parenting is so very different. Don't you agree? I started writing when I had a newborn at home, and worried about sleep and teething and feeding and every little thing. These days we deal with lost teeth and football and how to contain and channel all that testosterone and energy. My God, the energy! Boundless, endless, deep reserves of it. I wish I had half of it myself. This week alone we've been left perplexed as our eight-year-old has refused to eat dinner two nights in a row. My boys are creatures of habit, and they lean towards fussy at the best of times, but the big guy will almost always eat what he's served. Not this week apparently. He wasn't as vocal about it as his younger brother would be, but it was a very visible protest. The pushing around of food on the plate, the slumping in the chair, the look of utter despair on the face. And all because I have dared to serve something different this week. Nothing fancy. I Googled 'kid friendly dinners' and printed off ten recipes that I thought would be hits. Those we have tried so far, were not... And I remain in a place of trying to find my feet. This week, in the kitchen.<br />
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You see, one of the downsides to my real job was the amount of time it consumed. I was constantly feeling guilty that I wasn't "there" more for my kids. That it was often my helper deciding what they would have for dinner, or if I was around, it would be something thrown together at the last minute based purely on what was in the fridge (olives and hummus on toast anyone?). So, when I parted ways with employment I vowed that I would take this time to do all those things on my to-do list, and simply be more present - making more nutritious dinners and lunches was a priority. But after cleaning out the playroom (which basically resulted in a bigger mess that I have yet to clean up), giving old clothes to charity, and organising our 20, 000 photos into some kind of order, I've realised that perhaps I had left these things for so long because they're not any fun, and I'm not very good at them. Same goes for the lunches and dinners. I just used my job as an excuse not to do them.<br />
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The positive thing about employment was that it gave me a purpose, I felt fulfilled, and I needed that to balance out the guilt I was feeling over neglecting my children. Now I need to find purpose and fulfilment some other way, and writing again feels like a good place to start. At it's heart that's what this blog is about, the journey and how you find your way through each stage, each moment that feels a little scary and unfamiliar and generally shit. I don't give advice, I don't often have tips on things to do in Hong Kong, but I'm always honest and you may find something here that you relate to, and if you have a moment of "oh fantastic, someone else feels that way too!" then it's all worth it. Will you join me?BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-86659452921199794742014-09-30T12:51:00.001+08:002014-10-01T17:23:56.740+08:00Forever Hong Kong<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">I’ve always had a
tricky relationship with Hong Kong. Being an expat has meant that it’s taken me
a long time to feel at home here. It’s hard to settle somewhere when you don’t
speak the language, or share the same cultural values, and when you simply
don’t know how long you’ll stay. But I’m rapidly approaching the 7-year mark,
which is significant for a number of reasons, not the least of which is the
fact that I never imagined I’d still be here to reach this milestone. For a
start, it’s the longest period of time I’ve lived anywhere since I moved out of
my parent’s home. It also means that I’m eligible for permanent residency in
Hong Kong. No more visa renewal, no more sitting on the sidelines as a
transient visitor. There’s even a different queue at the airport for those
holding a permanent residency card. I’ll never be granted citizenship, but as a
permanent resident I can now vote. Given that I’ve lost the right to vote in my
native country, this is a pretty big deal to me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">After the events of
this week it’s suddenly huge - Occupy Central has been a game changer (for a
great explanation of what it’s all about <a href="http://www.vox.com/2014/9/28/6856621/hong-kong-protests-clashes-china-explainer">read
here</a>). For months there’s been speculation on Occupy Central and many, our
government included, have tried to garner support by talking up the negative
impact that this movement will have on stock markets, and housing prices and
tourism (<a href="https://time.com/3444164/hong-kongs-protesters-are-fighting-for-their-economic-future/">an
excellent piece on this here</a> ). Hong Kong is nothing if not resilient, and
it has survived much worse. But one thing is for certain, however these
protests end, the ramifications will change the course of the city’s future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">The protests here are
peaceful. Medical school students are positioned to assist those who are
injured, there is a team responsible for clearing away garbage left by
protesters - they’re even sorting recyclables. So far no one, with the
exception of the local police forces, has resorted to violence. The
overwhelming number of images of what’s been labelled, “the most polite protest
in the world,” show the sort of civil disobedience you would expect from a
nation as law abiding as Hong Kong. No stores have been looted, no cars
overturned, no one is rioting. In Causeway Bay last night a chamber ensemble
played “Do you hear the people sing?” from Les Miserables in the streets. Once
again, it is students who are taking the lead, those who will be most affected
by the outcome, and I’m filled with immense pride as I watch it all unfold. They've shown nothing but respect and compassion for their city and fellow citizens that I never expected to see. In
a city of 7 million people, it’s very easy to adopt an “every man for himself”
mentality. But this movement, this coming together of so many locals, from so
many walks of life, shows that this just isn’t the case here at all. There’s a
belief in Hong Kong as an independent nation, capable of deciding on its own
future, and with such pride in its own unique culture that its citizens have
risked unknown ramifications to fight for it. After witnessing the calm and
almost well-mannered way they have gone about it, I truly believe these young
people deserve to get what they’re asking for, which is simply what they were promised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">I was still a child
when the world watched on in horror as the tanks rolled through Tianamen
Square, but I remember it vividly – the news footage, our Prime Minister
breaking down in tears as he gave a press conference, and the anti-Chinese
sentiment that wafted through our tiny town. We were so far removed from those
events and yet so engrossed that for just a short while we stopped taking our
everyday freedoms for granted. While nowhere near on the same scale, the Occupy
Central protests this week have reminded the world just how impassioned people
can be when it comes to democracy, and how dangerous it can be when you stand
up to those who oppose it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many in
the media have made comparisons to the fight for democracy in Egypt, Tunisia
and the Ukraine, where protesters and subsequent changes did more harm than
good. There’s quite a difference between making a point and widespread anarchy,
and confusing the two will lead to very different outcomes for the people of
Hong Kong. There’s always the risk that Occupy Central will end in bloodshed, and there's a distinct possibility that people will begin to grow tired of the inconvenience and disruption to their daily lives. But there’s an even greater risk that it will all come to nothing in the end. Whether
they take the city by force, or simply gradually reduce the degree of autonomy
we enjoy, those calling the shots in Beijing won’t simply let the city go. The
people of Hong Kong are standing their ground, but I have to wonder whether or
not they will politely pack up and go home when more serious interventions are
brought in to remove them… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">Joyce Man wrote a
brilliant piece in the SCMP <a href="http://www.scmp.com/comment/article/1584333/it-time-leave-beloved-hong-kong?page=all">about
leaving Hong Kong</a> earlier this month and for us, reading the perspective of
someone who was born and raised here was a real eye opener. She talks about
leaving, and the ability to do so, as an “insurance policy.” As expats we
always have that insurance policy, we’re free to leave whenever we wish. But
her sentiment, that she might one day choose to leave because she can’t bear to
see the city that she loves “slip away,” really resonated with me. If China tightens its grip on Hong Kong, which now seems almost inevitable, Hong Kong as we know it will slip away. I’ve come to
love this city too, and for my children, who were both born here, it is the
only home they’ve ever known. But it’s a very different city to the one we
moved to seven years ago, and the difficulties of life here that Joyce Man
mentions are the same aspects that have come to frustrate us over time. We’ve
always complained about the pollution, the expense of living here and the
ever-growing number of tourists poring through the city, but I honestly had not
given much thought to local politics until recently. I preferred not to get
involved, believing it didn’t really affect me – my expat status affording me
the right to live in quiet ignorance of the unrest and disharmony slowly
building momentum. And then I realised that if we are to have a future here, to
really prove that this is our home now, we need to stand up and own that
disharmony. At the end of the day it isn’t our fight, but if we care at all for our
neighbours, our colleagues and friends - those who we interact with and rely on on a daily
basis - we have a responsibility to support those fighting for change and to make sure their voices are heard.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">We may have the luxury
of being able to leave but for the first time I can honestly
say I don’t want to go. Hong Kong is a part of us, and now after building a
life and family here, we are a part of it too. We support the students and
protestors, not because we’re pro-democracy, but because we’re pro-Hong Kong,
and the outcome of this movement affects us, and our way of life too now. When
I vote for the first time in 2017, I want to know I’m voting for a
representative chosen by the people of Hong Kong. </span>I’ve been heartened by
the number of expats supporting this movement, including those we know who once
lived here but have moved away. We may not have been born here, and many of us
won’t die here, but I know we will always have a connection to Hong Kong,
whether we live here or not. And I will make sure that my boys know that they
came from a place where tens of thousands of people took to the streets in 2014
to stand up for their right to decide the future of their country. I truly hope
that these will be stories I can tell them with pride one day, and not with
sadness.</div>
BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-84241288463222975972014-02-15T09:57:00.003+08:002014-02-15T09:57:55.028+08:00Love.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBU6KdmSXdtfP2Po-c9ZcZ31vSGXqUOYhz1Mzjg_0YBxNWKslIiJyqE8RbTp2gn_zHMVHujhrYUfaWidfflHbmGTbO0BIwtAXlyNd795Ws0WXMUiNJQykPw-v3yAW7hBQvr6YGeGsT-Xk/s1600/4x6+matte+(112).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBU6KdmSXdtfP2Po-c9ZcZ31vSGXqUOYhz1Mzjg_0YBxNWKslIiJyqE8RbTp2gn_zHMVHujhrYUfaWidfflHbmGTbO0BIwtAXlyNd795Ws0WXMUiNJQykPw-v3yAW7hBQvr6YGeGsT-Xk/s1600/4x6+matte+(112).jpg" height="119" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
A dear friend wrote <a href="http://alifeinprogres.blogspot.hk/2014/02/ive-spent-much-of-my-life-reconciling.html" target="_blank">a wonderful post about love</a> on her own blog this week, and I was inspired to do the same, seeing as how it's Valentine's Day and all.<br />
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Like many girls I was brought up on the idea that love is a fairytale, that we are all princesses waiting to meet our princes and find that elusive happily ever after. But love is messy and often complicated, and the reality of it is nothing like a fairytale. The reality is though, far more beautiful. I've loved my husband from the day I met him. I knew he was the missing piece of my puzzle, my other half, "The One." Not in a crazy and romantic way, but in a very practical, oh-so-this-is-how-it's-supposed-to-feel kind of way. Suddenly everything made sense in a way that it never had before. There were days in the first months we were together, that I couldn't imagine ever loving another human being as much as I loved my Dave. The fact that he saw me for who I really was, the good and the bad, and loved me back, was (and still is sometimes) astounding. For the first time in my life I could simply be myself, but a better version of me, and even now I'm grateful to have found that.<br />
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There have been times in our life together that have tested us. Getting married, bringing together two families, moving countries, having babies - they all put pressure on any relationship, however sound it seems. Through each trial, small and large, we've held hands and quietly weathered the storms together. And in each there is usually at least one act of selfless kindness that reminds me why I fell in love in the first place. Whether he's getting up to a crying baby so I can sleep, organising for my best friend to meet me for a drink, making me a playlist of love songs while he's on the other side of the world, or saying exactly the right thing at the right time, it all says "you are loved."<br />
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It's impossible to write a post about love without talking about the love we feel for our children. It's a different kind of love of course, but since romantic love is usually how you end up becoming a parent, the two types of love are intertwined. After our first baby was born I thought I was so full of love I might burst. It was all encompassing and terrifying. I wrote about that new and utterly vulnerable love that comes with being a parent in the very early days of this blog <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2010/08/open-heart.html" target="_blank">(here)</a> and as my boys have grown I've experienced that in more ways than I could have imagined back then. I remember feeling guilty when I was pregnant with Charlie, I didn't know how I could possibly love another child as much as I loved Joshua. I didn't think I had any more room in my heart for someone else! I could not have been more wrong of course because I loved Charlie instantly, completely, just as much as I loved his brother. And each day I find more capacity for love as my boys do new and amazing things. I love seeing them grow and discover the world, and watching them play and be sweet and mischievous together as brothers makes me fall in love with them both all over again.<br />
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When babies are tiny parenthood can be a thankless task and until you start to get feedback from them you often wonder why on earth you wanted to be a parent in the first place (well, we did…). But when they start to show that they love you back, that is nothing short of miraculous. Our boys are very affectionate and Josh has been telling us he loves us, several times a day, for a while now. He's very good at compliments too and is usually the first to tell me I'm beautiful, even when I'm far from it. When our boys show how big their own hearts are, mine simply melts. This year I spent Valentine's Day sick in bed. I managed to get up in the morning and lay between the boys on the couch before Josh went off to school. He sat beside me rubbing my cheek with his cool hand saying "poor Mummy, are you ok?" and making sure his little brother didn't jump on me. This morning he wrapped his arms around me and said, "I love you Mummy. I couldn't do anything without you," and I had to hold back the tears. That's love, pure and true, not censored, not prompted and far from complicated. If anything our boys have taught us how to love better, how to let go and wear our hearts on our sleeves. We always thought it would be the other way around...<br />
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When you're married with children it's very easy to get caught up in the day-to-day stuff and forget just how precious this gift of love is. We sometimes feel like ships passing in the night, especially now we have two kids. We can go a whole day without a hug or a proper non-kid related conversation, and that makes me sad. The fact is there wouldn't be a family to get caught up in if there hadn't first been two people falling in love. Our children were born because we loved each other enough to want to create something amazing together, and seeing ourselves in them reminds us of that. Whatever your feelings about Valentine's Day, sometimes we all need a day to remind us to go back to the place where it all started. In the beginning there were only the two of us and in the end it will still just be us. Everything we've done, we've done together. The moments we've shared, from having a baby in the car to sitting in that wretched hospital while Josh had surgery, no one in the world knows what those moments were like but us, and we endured them because we were together. Those shared experiences and the emotions behind them are what makes a life together so beautiful. Our love is a constant presence that drives everything that we do, but it needs attention and care. Those knowing smiles across the room, the gentle hand in the small of your back, or the whispered conversations in the dark keep you more connected than roses or jewellery (although they can be quite lovely too!).<br />
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The reality of love is that it's not always romantic. It shines through when you least expect it to, and it reveals itself in quiet and simple moments. Just when you think your heart will surely overflow with love, the people you love do something so beautiful and splendid that you love them just that little bit more. Seeing my husband as a father, another heart bursting life experience, made me realise how little we really know each other before we become parents. I never questioned the kind of husband and father he would be, and I never really considered that he might not be what I needed him to be. But he's been there for us in ways I never knew I would need him to be. He's involved and committed and does things many dads don't do, without questioning it, and often without being asked. We are his world, and he shows us in a million little ways every day, and that means more to me than flowers or a date on Valentine's Day. At the end of the day, however you spend it, it's about being together and celebrating that togetherness, and I couldn't think of a worthier cause. Happy Valentines Day xxBLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-56363164111739676532013-12-28T14:59:00.003+08:002013-12-28T17:29:54.358+08:00A Restoration<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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You might have guessed from my prolonged absence from blogging that we've had quite the year. It's been a shitty year, our "Annus Horribilis" if you will. We've really put the the vow "in sickness and health" to the test, and now that I think about it, "for richer or poorer" too… I've been sick, Dave's been sick, both boys have had nights in hospital under general anaesthetics. We've lost loved ones, we've moved (a gut wrenching trial that I will share later), we've had ups and downs with school and work, and experienced both the best and worst aspects of life in a small community. We've watched friends and family go through their own truly terrible times, and wished for the end of 2013, as if that would somehow fix everything.<br />
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A friend recently mentioned that doing anything out of the ordinary, with even the slightest possibility of something going wrong would be like "tempting fate" after the year we've had, so with that thought echoing in my ears, and my heart in my throat, I went away last month. By myself. To New York. I was determined to end the year on a high. To have just one good thing that came out of 2013. It was a trip that came about purely by accident after a conversation with a friend who was about to venture off on her own. She suggested I do the same, and when I laughingly told my husband about the idea, his response was "why not?"<br />
<br />
And within a week, that conversation somehow miraculously evolved into me being in what is arguably the coolest city on the planet for a week. By myself. Did I mention I was there without my husband, without the boys, completely alone? I didn't quite believe it until I was on the plane, and I didn't quite relax until I was safely ensconced in my mid-town hotel room, but it was nothing short of bliss. I shopped and had time to try things on, I walked, no, I meandered through museums. I ate 3 meals a day without being rushed or shouting at someone else to hurry up and finish their dinner. I saw the Lion King on Broadway and cried because it was so beautiful, and I didn't have to explain to anyone why I was crying, or pretend that I wasn't moved (it was also the point in the whole week when I missed my boys the most). I sat in cafes and drank hot chocolate and ate cake and was quiet and still. I did the same in Central Park, for two hours! And I slept. I slept whenever I wanted to, for however long I wanted to. Deep, uninterrupted, perfect, healing sleep. I slept like someone who has no place to be and is not accountable to anyone. Central Park, walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, sunset from the top of the Empire State Building, Christmas shopping at Macy's - none of it compared to the sleep. It was restorative, and the best thing that could've happened to me all year. Despite being 12 hours off my body clock, and a little run down from the travel and cold, the sleep made me feel well for the first time since this time last year.<br />
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I missed the boys terribly, and I felt awfully guilty, often. But lately I'd begun to feel like I wasn't doing a very good job of being their mum. After a particularly vile Sunday at home with them on my own, I said to my husband that if this were an actual job, I'd have been fired by now. Or at least had a very unfavourable performance review… We needed this. All of us. And I knew I would be a better mother if I had a chance to be by myself for a while, and if my boys had a chance to miss me. I feel like I've been swallowed up by motherhood. I accept that sometimes there are things you choose to sacrifice when you have babies, and the rewards for that sacrifice are above and beyond anything that you might give up. But I needed reminding that there's more to me than who I have been lately. With all that glorious sleep I woke up a part of me that had been hibernating, and I came back feeling like I can give my boys so much more.<br />
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Coming home was wonderful, and the looks on my boys' faces when I walked through the door told me I had done the right thing. They had a great week with their dad, and they were perfectly fine without me. The sky didn't fall in, the house didn't burn down, no one broke any limbs. More importantly, we all missed each other enough to appreciate each other just a little bit more. I got my wish and ended the year on a high note, and with everything I have in me, I'm very much hoping it's the start of something better.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-38206749562268522182013-09-13T20:39:00.001+08:002013-09-13T20:42:28.643+08:00And Away He Goes...I've written before about the insanity that is the <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/search/label/Schools" target="_blank">Hong Kong school system</a>, and as we dive headfirst into it, I'm just as perplexed as I was back then. A quick recap for those not familiar with how it works here: Everybody does a playgroup of some sort from about the time a little one can sit; at two years of age they go unaccompanied to either playgroup or nursery; and then at 3 they embark on Kindergarten or reception at 4; followed swiftly by primary school one-two years later. I'm sure there are a couple of cultural elements behind the drive to have kids in school so young here. Parents work long hours in this city and preschools and kindergartens are basically the equivalent of child-care centres, but with uniforms and curriculums. There's also a strong emphasis on academic success and getting ahead, and there's a conviction that the younger a child starts learning, the more likely they'll be to do well. As a stay-at-home mum I know too well the temptation to have the kids occupied and out of your hair every day too! But very few seem to question just how much this pressure to be educated really impacts on little ones.<br />
<br />
Most schools base their intake on a child's year of birth. This proved problematic for us as Josh was born in December and in most cases would have been one of the youngest in his class. In theory he should have started kindergarten last year, at the tender age of 2 years 9 months, which just seemed absurd to me. We fought the system, and found many schools to be unwavering in their policy on holding children back, despite the evidence (<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/education-24058227" target="_blank">read this!</a>) that shows that there are numerous benefits to delaying school, and the fact that many children here who should've been allowed to start later end up repeating a year of primary anyway... We were alone in our quest to delay schooling, and most people thought we were mad, it was a really frustrating time. Luckily we found a school that allowed us to keep Josh at playgroup another year, and we sent him 5 mornings a week to ensure he wasn't bored. He had a chance to play, and grow, and be a kid, and it gave us a chance to deal with his eyesight issues and for the rest of the time enjoy his company a bit.<br />
<br />
He started K1 a few weeks ago at the same school that he's been going to for playgroup. We were ready for him to take the next step, we knew we had made the right decision in giving him another year at home, and we were excited about the year ahead. For a number of reasons this particular kindergarten didn't work out - the words "epic fail" spring to mind - and we withdrew him before the daily distress over school took its toll. We had him at home for two days and briefly toyed with the idea of homeschooling him for another year. We have applied to a primary school here that has a different intake, and he's not due to start there until next year. Not having something for him to do was not a big deal, and I was even a little bit relieved. Then I turned to the Hong Kong Schools forum on Facebook where it appears that everyone is planning and talking about school options from a very young age. Toddlers going off to school by themselves isn't just the norm, it's expected. I stopped reading the comments as I began to feel like I was being quite negligent for even considering that my son would benefit more from a year at home with me than from a fully-equipped educational institution.<br />
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Josh is a very bright and social kid who needs constant interaction and a lot of stimulation, so we decided to try one of the other schools over this way. All the kids who went on ahead of him last year are at this school, and loving it, but I was very reluctant. All the effort that went into holding him back and the careful sculpting of his circle of friends and trusted teachers would all be thrown out the window, and we'd be starting him at a new school, as one of the youngest in the class, exactly where we hadn't wanted him to be! The school were very supportive of our request for a trial day, just to see how he coped with it, which was today. It's also a much longer day than he's used to so I sat by the phone all day, expecting at any minute to be called to come and get him. What I wasn't expecting was to be greeted at 2.15 by a child positively beaming. He simply radiated happiness, and appeared completely besotted with his new teacher. He had a wonderful day, and fit in so well that one of the other children said, "we like Josh, can we keep him?" All the stress that had built up after two weeks of a little boy screaming every day because he didn't want to go to school, and the "are we doing the right thing?" anxiety of the last few days, melted away when I saw his gorgeous, smiling, utterly exhausted little face. So, he's enrolled. I collect his uniform tomorrow and he officially starts Monday, 5 days a week, 9.15-2.15. It's not what we had planned, and if I had my way he'd still be at home with me until he's 6, but we're letting Josh lead the way on this one. I have to focus on how happy he is, and right now that's the only thing stopping me from freaking out about the fact that my 3 year old is at school full-time. Because this is it for the next 14 years now... My baby boy's schooling has begun in earnest. He's more than ready, and now I need to catch up to him.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-50912836468022652312013-06-24T21:00:00.001+08:002013-06-24T21:00:00.147+08:00Facing the FutureI'm 34. Only 34. I have to remind myself of that often, and then I have to remind myself that 34 is really still quite young. I forget this of course because most days I feel REALLY old. My body hurts in a lot of places and I'm tired all.the.time. Two pregnancies, four years of sleep deprivation and the stress of the last 6 months have taken their toll. Big time.<br />
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I've become one of those women who rely on products like "primer" and "concealer" as if I'm prepping an unsightly old wall before covering it with something far more appealing. Mascara and lip gloss are essentials these days. I don't bother with much else because I'd still prefer to sleep a bit longer in the mornings, but one day, in the not so distant future I'm pretty sure I'll be setting an alarm so I have time to "put my face on" before I leave the house... <br />
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I've also noticed random grey hairs popping up on my head, and damn it if they aren't more wiry and unruly than all my nice brunette hairs! Pretty soon I'm going to have to bite the bullet and add regular dye jobs to my list of things to do. <br />
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Fortunately here in Hong Kong there are countless products available to help girls like me hide our flaws. From skin whiteners and BB cream, to fake eyelashes, whatever you need can be bought on almost every street corner. Manicures, pedicures, facials and waxing, massage, detox, weight loss clinics, botox, dermabrasion, laser hair removal, and something called Hypoxi (which I don't really want to know about) - it's all available, all the time.<br />
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It has never even entered my mind that I might like to be someone who ages gracefully. I'm still too young to age. Maybe when I hit my mid forties I'll come to grips with the fact that there's no turning back the clock anymore, but for now I want to at least look 34, even if I don't necessarily feel it. Maybe it is so important to me because I don't feel it... <br />
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I know I'm not setting a good example. I don't want my kids to grow up thinking that looks are important, and I definitely want them to know that beauty comes from within, so I'm hoping my quiet little rebellion against the sands of time goes mostly unnoticed at home. Given that I have two boys it probably will. <br />
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It's not all bad: I'm skinnier than I've been since I left university (last century). I have moments, in the right kind of light, where I feel like I'm doing ok. But until I start to feel my age physically, I'm going to have to fake it. In the meantime I'm beginning to understand why my nanna never leaves the house without lipstick, and that makes me feel even older! <br />
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Are you ageing gracefully? Is it possible to look and feel your age when you have kids? I'd love to hear your thoughts! BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-20564412779840058592013-05-29T10:00:00.000+08:002013-05-29T10:00:03.618+08:00Time OutI had grand plans last month for more exploring and lots more blogging. But as with many things, our <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2013/04/staycation.html" target="_blank">"Staycation"</a> didn't go as planned. Dave lost his beloved Nan and had to make an unscheduled trip back to Brisbane. We decided after that that we needed to be around family, so we packed the boys up and headed to Manila for a weekend. Then we kind of got caught up with a bunch of stuff.<br />
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Despite the unexpected turn of events, I desperately wanted to make more of our everyday lives here, so I tried to add a little adventure to the stuff we had to do. We took Josh into town for a doctor's appointment, and for the first time ever, we went on a tram. I can't believe it's taken us this long to use one of the most basic and underrated forms of local transport! The fact that we weren't actually going anywhere meant that it truly was just about the journey, and not the destination, for a kid who simply loves going for a ride...<br />
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The following week Josh had an MRI. Not a big deal, just a follow-up to some of the findings from tests in Aus during his surgery. It meant spending an afternoon up at Canossa hospital, so again we tried to find the adventure in an otherwise quite boring activity. We rarely venture into Central with the boys, and even less often go beyond Queens Road, so a ride on the escalator was hugely exciting. I have never taken it beyond Caine Road, I didn't even know it went further, but it does, and we went all the way to the top...<br />
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(The stroller is normally reserved for Charlie, but on this trip it was essential!)</div>
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We then walked from the escalator across to Hong Kong Park. It took us an hour to get from the ferry pier to the park so we didn't have much time to wander, but it was great to spend time in a part of the city that we rarely get to see.<br />
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I love the oasis that is HK Park, and the view of the city from way up there... We wandered through the park at a more leisurely pace after the MRI but Josh was out cold and missed it all. A good excuse for another trip!BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-26574187175527049382013-04-21T11:02:00.000+08:002013-04-21T11:04:01.858+08:00Tai OWe decided to start our mini break close to home yesterday with a trip to <a href="http://www.discoverhongkong.com/eng/see-do/great-outdoors/outlying-islands/lantau-island/tai-o-stilt-houses.jsp" target="_blank">Tai O</a>. It's a small fishing village on the western tip of Lantau island and it's renowned for its stilt houses, streets lined with dried fish and sea creatures, and the elusive <a href="http://www.hkdolphinwatch.com/" target="_blank">dolphins</a> that precariously inhabit the local waters. <br />
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On the surface it looks like a very traditional Chinese village, mostly untouched by Western influences but it is very much geared towards the hordes of tourists who visit every week. Rumour has it that a local film or soap opera was filmed there and that alone brings a lot of people to the village! Tai O is about 45 minutes by bus from Mui Wo and Tung Chung. There are a number of <a href="http://www.everytrail.com/browse.php?activity_id=5&country=Hong+Kong&state=Lantau+Island" target="_blank">fantastic hikes</a> down into the village from a few points on the island. It's also a 20 minute drive from where we live, so we drove, but parking is pretty limited. You could also charter a sampan and arrive in style!</div>
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Our first priority was lunch. While we drawn to some of the local restaurants offering fresh fish and local delicacies, with two kids in tow we weren't as intrepid as we could've been and when we stumbled across <a href="http://www.tripadvisor.com/LocationPhotoDirectLink-g294217-d4048564-i62597674-Melt-Hong_Kong.html" target="_blank">Melt</a>, a western style cafe with a very kid-friendly menu, we sat right down. The boys split a sausage sandwich and an apple juice and we shared a plate of nachos and lime sodas. If we didn't live here we'd feel a little guilty not indulging in local food, but since it's an option all the time we didn't feel so bad! Melt was clean and fresh and the food was just what we needed. It's located next to some pretty cool little cafes and local shops selling food. The Chinese pizza, directly opposite Melt looks delicious, and if the queue was anything to go by, worth a trip to Tai O! The Tai O Bakery sells delicious egg tarts and Chinese donuts, local delights we simply couldn't pass up.</div>
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Next up was a wander through a fascinating little village. The boys loved looking at the tanks of fish, crabs, and even eels, for sale along the streets. The smell of incense and dried fish made me feel like I was very far away from home, and took me back to the time I first fell in love with Asia. The click-clack of mahjong tiles and the chatter of everyone around us provided a nice soundtrack, and a relief from the city noises of traffic and construction. There are no cars in Tai O, only boats, and a boat ride is a must. We piled into a small sampan with a handful of other "tourists" for a tour of the village.<br />
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The stilt houses are quite remarkable, and after being here for a few typhoons myself, I marvelled at how they manage to withstand such weather extremes. The view was completely lost on the boys but they were both pretty excited to be on a boat!<br />
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Before heading out into open water, the boat passed by the <a href="http://www.taioheritagehotel.com/eng/homepage/Homepage" target="_blank">Tai O Heritage Hotel</a>. Built in 1902 as a police post, the building was restored and turned into a boutique hotel and granted heritage listing in 2009. We haven't had a chance to visit the hotel, or its famed glass-roofed restaurant, The Rooftop, but we will be making a special trip back for dinner soon. It's only accessible by boat, and is yet another glimpse into a different time and place.<br />
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We wound up the boat tour with a brief stop offshore where the local pink and white dolphins are known to hang out. Very few people that we know have actually seen them, and we weren't confident that we were going to be that lucky. There are a number of boat operators taking tourists out to see the dolphins all day, every day, and the spot is littered with debris from the boats. There are also markers in the water so the boats know where to stop, but it is disheartening, especially with the airport not far away and the spectre of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hong_Kong%E2%80%93Zhuhai%E2%80%93Macau_Bridge" target="_blank">Hong Kong–Zhuhai–Macau Bridge</a> rising out of the sea mere kilometres away, threatening to destroy the dolphin's habitat. Then suddenly we saw a disturbance in the water, a splash and flash of silvery white in the distance. All ten of us onboard gasped in delight, and again when one of the dolphins leapt out of the water, putting on a show just for us. We saw 2 of them playing and one rose out of the water a couple of times, quite close by. It's impossible to take photos as they move so fast but I felt like I was watching something very special. The boat ride costs $20HKD for 20 minutes and Charlie rode for free. Some operators also guarantee that if you don't see a dolphin you'll get a ticket for a free ride next time.<br />
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We had a fantastic day but we did get a little sunburnt. Despite the weather being wet and grey in Cheung Sha, it was sunny and clear in Tai O, so my advice for anyone planning a visit is go prepared for all seasons! All in all it was a great day out, and were home having a cup of tea by 3pm. Rediscovering the place we call home is off to a very good start!<br />
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<br />BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-33223353787158383312013-04-18T21:41:00.001+08:002013-04-21T11:03:40.843+08:00StaycationAfter our recent trip to Australia, we've spent a lot of time planning our exit strategy. Our time in HK is limited and we have a lot of options available to us, but we want to make sure we really get the most out of living here while we can. <br />
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I always felt like I left Sydney before I was ready. I don't have closure and I want to live there again one day until I'm "done." <br />
I have no doubt it'll take 6 months to drive me crazy and then I can get on with living happily ever after elsewhere! <br />
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So, with that in mind, I made a list of all the things I wanted to achieve before we leave Hong Kong for good. While "taking advantage of living here," may sound quite vague, it's top of my list. Part of that involves seeing the places we haven't seen yet, and showing a few of those that we have seen to the boys. A ride on the Star Ferry holds a lot more appeal when you're watching the face of a very excited 3 year old! We haven't really experienced much of the local culture and there is still so much of the city we haven't explored.<br />
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Dave has 3 weeks leave coming up, and after our very expensive trip down under, we can't afford to go anywhere. So, we're seizing the opportunity and we plan to be tourists in our home town. Join us on our adventure, as I blog, tweet, and update every step of the way - starting next week! BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-72817265314696889442013-03-05T05:58:00.001+08:002013-03-05T18:26:06.758+08:00Starbucks and MeI have a strange relationship with Starbucks. I don't particularly like the food or the coffee but I find the stores themselves oddly comforting. You can guarantee that they'll be exactly the same wherever they are in the world. As an expat in HK There are days when you crave that simple familiarity and bad coffee in amongst all the noodles and wontons. <br />
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When I was pregnant with Charlie I developed a penchant for Starbucks sausage rolls and chocolate frappucinos, especially after work as I stepped off the bus in Tung Chung. It was in the days when I felt sick all the time and didn't want much of anything, so it was an unusual choice, but Mama wants what she wants! <br />
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The first thing I ate after giving birth to Charlie was a sandwich and hot chocolate from, you guessed it, Starbucks. It seems they're conveniently located inside most of HK's public hospitals - like a little oasis of Westernism. They're also at the border crossings, like a beacon, guiding you homeward. Many of the stores closed down in Australia recently, Australians being renowned coffee snobs and all. It would appear that hospitals and border crossings are the only place you'll find them now here too. <br />
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So given our history, it seemed only fitting that I found myself sucking back a short mocha latte from Starbucks while we waited patiently at the children's hospital at Westmead today. Josh had his first surgery today and all went well, but I'll fill you in on all that later. What struck me most while I was having my daily dose of caffeine was how odd it was to be craving something I don't particularly like, that reminds me so much of a place I claim not to care for. HK has never felt less like "home" than it has these last few weeks that we've been in Sydney, and yet my little trip to the coffee cart had me feeling quite homesick. <br />
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Sometimes we have to be taken out of our comfort zone to realise just how comfortable we actually are. <br />
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All that from a latte, who would've thought it?? <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxInweS4EFEbjgwUl7GlIhN5oE0bhGYo31wxrWMBE_kGVke7MUathURV9PhUxCx-NnFSewa_TuJvJJKEMGL2Hz1VwnhyntbOXyL9gMW7EcjhsHSYYOYUoeP6UOXWMriThpga0LtKrbcPZM/s640/blogger-image--333384423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxInweS4EFEbjgwUl7GlIhN5oE0bhGYo31wxrWMBE_kGVke7MUathURV9PhUxCx-NnFSewa_TuJvJJKEMGL2Hz1VwnhyntbOXyL9gMW7EcjhsHSYYOYUoeP6UOXWMriThpga0LtKrbcPZM/s640/blogger-image--333384423.jpg" /></a></div>BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-40122958462861548502013-02-11T14:04:00.001+08:002013-02-11T14:04:42.762+08:00A Bit of HousekeepingFirstly, I have to acknowledge the wonderful people at <a href="http://www.littlestepsasia.com/all-cities" target="_blank">Little Steps</a> for once again recognising this little old blog of mine in their annual <a href="http://www.littlestepsasia.com/all-cities/articles/play/best-blogs-2013" target="_blank">Best of the Blogs</a>. It's something I love to do but have hardly had time for lately. So thanks to you all for reading and giving me a reason to write.<br />
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Secondly, thanks also to Mehroo from <a href="http://www.frommissindiatomotherhood.blogspot.hk/" target="_blank">Miss India to Motherhood</a>, for passing on the Liebster award. It's a bit tricky to find information about this "award" but it's basically designed to increase your readership by sharing other people's blogs with your readers. I like the idea and I'm flattered and soon I'll get around to writing about it properly!<br />
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Finally, in the spirit of Chinese New Year this weekend, I've started a new blog. Don't panic! A Mummy in a Strange Land is still in action, and I plan to write a lot more here in the coming months. But, our darling Josh is about to have two separate surgeries on his eyes and we've decided his journey deserves a blog all its own. We'll post explanations of everything to do with his condition and updates on how he's doing here - <a href="http://seeingjosh.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Seeing Josh</a>.<br />
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When I started this blog over two years ago I didn't have a plan for it, I just desperately needed to write. I needed an outlet for all the ups and downs of parenting as an expat. I've strayed a little from that path, and it's become a blog about life in general, our life, more than life in Hong Kong, and I'm going to try and get back on track. I had no idea how many other parenting blogs were out there, and never expected anyone would be all that interested in what I had to say, but the recognition I've received lately has proved me wrong. There may not be many of you out there, but to those of you who are still reading, thank you! I hope you like what's still to come xBLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-12580539476763780862013-01-23T15:03:00.002+08:002013-01-23T15:03:45.808+08:00Bye Bye BabyAfter a lot of angst, we are finally a dummy free household. Well, almost. I kept one, and it's hidden away, for absolute, disaster-type emergencies only - which I know goes against all the recommendations for weaning, but we have some big things coming up and I want one handy. Josh loved his dummy, it was his lifeline, his safety net, his comfort zone, on so many occasions from when he was just a few months old. It saved my sanity more than once too. Once we managed to get it to a point where he only had it for nap-times and sleep, but then he grew up a bit and started asking for it more and more often, and we couldn't say no. It was a constant battle to keep it out of his mouth. Then there were tantrums when he wanted it and we didn't have one handy (usually in embarrassingly public situations), and at night he'd often lose it, wake up screaming, and we'd have a frantic late night search under the bed until it was retrieved and placed back in his tired little mouth.<br />
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I stopped buying them a long time ago, letting the old ones get ratty and disgusting, hoping he'd eventually give them up voluntarily. We had the best of intentions when it came to weaning, but we also had lots of excuses. A change in routine here, a new baby there, and it all went out the window, and the dummy became more and more an essential part of our day. Every photo from our trip to NZ recently features J sucking on a dummy and I hate it! His dependence on it, and our inability to fight it, did my head in, but I had no idea just how much life, and our little man, would change without it...<br />
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Cold turkey weaning was never part of the plan. We researched and read a lot about the kindest, gentlest ways to do it. It had to be a choice, or really we had to let the kid believe it was a choice. We kept telling J that once he turned three he would be a big boy and we talked constantly about giving the dummy to Santa, and getting a very special treat in return. Then my husband took him to visit family in Manila for a weekend and forgot to take one with him. I had removed one from J's mouth to brush his teeth before they walked out the door, and didn't put it back in, oops... I was convinced Dave would go straight to the nearest pharmacy and buy another one, but to his credit he weathered the weaning storm, solo. It wasn't an easy battle, and one I'm not sure I would've had the strength to fight, but he came home a different kid. He grew up that weekend.<br />
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Six weeks later he still asks for it, at least once a day, especially when he's tired and/or upset. He's also developed a bit of an oral fixation and sticks everything in his mouth. I read somewhere that that can happen when you wean them too late, which is a bit of a no brainer, but we're working on it. He doesn't stop talking either. He's always been a chatty kid, with a great vocabulary for his age, but now that there's nothing "silencing" him, he has come along verbally, in leaps and bounds, and we're astounded every day at the things he says.<br />
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His other "comfort item," is a scruffy dalmatian who goes by the name of Potts. Potts was once J's constant companion, and anytime he was tired he would ask for "a dummy and Potts," the two things being part of one whole comfort package. Sadly it seems they were a package deal, and poor Potts has been neglected since we lost the dummy. I always said it would break my heart the day that Potts was given up, and it has, because my little boy isn't my baby anymore. Watching him getting around on his own in the world, soothing himself when life gets him down, it makes me proud but still deeply sad. I was so determined to get rid of the damn dummy, but I had no idea what would unfold from that simple act of leaving the dummy behind. I guess I should be careful what I wish for... In the days when he still had a dummy, at bedtime Josh would lie in bed humming and twirling Potts' tail, it was a sweet little habit that instantly relaxed him. Now he just turns a few times and sighs, a little sadly, before surrendering to sleep. Some nights I listen to him and want to give the dummy back, just to keep him a baby for a little bit longer. Sad but true...<br />
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Through all of this I keep reminding myself that I still have "Baby Charlie," as he is known to his big brother. He never had a dummy, but he still drinks from a bottle and rocks a onesie like nobody's business, he sleeps in a cot and can't walk yet, and will be my baby for a little bit longer. I just have to ignore all the info I keep getting from Baby Centre, that refers to him as a "Toddler" and his absolute determination to grow up even faster than his sibling.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-4171048602672138912012-12-29T16:00:00.002+08:002012-12-29T16:06:25.792+08:00Moments<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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2012 has been an enormous year, as far as years go. In February we welcomed our baby <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/03/on-day-you-were-born.html" target="_blank">Charlie</a>, in the back of the car by the side of the road no less, and then we spent the next few months adjusting to life as a family of four. We were also trying to adjust to life with a child with <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/search/label/ELeP" target="_blank">complicated needs</a>. As if that wasn't enough on our plates, we finally got around to <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/search/label/Renovating" target="_blank">renovating</a> the house we call home.<br />
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I've never felt more challenged than I did this year, but our boys handled every hurdle we threw at them and then some. There were days of newborn anxiety and sleepless fog where we wondered what on Earth we had done. Days of desperation when we battled to understand Joshie's eye condition and searched for answers on how to help him. Days, and weeks, mid-renovation when all I wanted to do was go home. Days when we moved back in when I wanted to be anywhere but home. But, without sounding like a cliche, it has been one of the best years of my life. Being a family of four has opened the door to some incredible experiences, and some truly precious, often unexpected, moments of bliss. My boys make me smile every single day, no matter what chaos or heartache presents itself. I know that sounds trite to some, but I'm a "stay-at-home mum," and if I've learned anything this year, it's that I need to find the joy in the simplest things to get through all that comes with the gig. There are days when all I do is, literally, stay at home and be a mum. I'm grateful that it's something I had the luxury of choosing to do but there are days, at least once a week, when it does my head in. Days when I want out. Sometimes there are weeks when I feel that way every day, several times a day. And on those days when I wonder what the hell happened to my life and the plans and the person I wanted to be (who in no way resembles who I currently am), it's the moments - sometimes huge milestones, and at others tiny, fleeting, blink-of-an-eye type moments - that make me realise I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world.<br />
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These last few weeks when I haven't been writing I've been desperately composing posts in my mind, wanting to write about so many things. I wanted to write about Christmas and Josh turning three and all the moments in between, but I've been writing for a living this year, and to be perfectly honest, I'm a bit worded out. I'm a little bit stunned by how fast the year has gone, and how much we managed to pack into it, and I don't know if any "year in review" type post would really do it all justice. In 2012 our boys have grown in so many ways, and so have we, and we've kicked some pretty big goals. We spent Christmas, just the four of us, at home with a turkey dinner so big that we're still eating leftovers, and we felt truly lucky to be doing so. I never imagined I'd get to spend every day with three people that I love so much, and in years to come when I think about 2012, I won't remember the madness and the stress and the tears and tantrums (and yes, the typhoons), I'll just remember the moments, like the one in the photo above - the million little ways each day that my boys give my heart a squeeze and make it all worth it.<br />
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So, to you and yours, Happy New Year (or Happy New Ear as Josh would say). May 2013 be filled with beautiful moments.<br />
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(Photo courtesy of <a href="http://suzannegoodwinphotography.com/?pageID=893195">Suzanne Goodwin Photography</a>, and no, I didn't have time to blow-dry my hair that day, I was too busy enjoying the moments)BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-69291331049985125472012-11-13T20:11:00.000+08:002012-12-29T16:01:26.825+08:00Back<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've just come back from our first family holiday, and it was awesome! Five days in a campervan traversing the south island of New Zealand, five days in Queenstown and five days in Sydney. I spent two weeks in New Zealand, on the north island, when I was 15, but this was the first time I saw it properly. The air was clean, the people were friendly, the food was amazing, and around every corner we encountered jaw-dropping, breathtaking, truly spectacular scenery. I fell in love, completely and deeply, with the place and hope to have many, many more opportunities to visit.<br />
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The campervan seemed like a crazy idea, with two kids, a truckload of baggage and no fixed destination at the end of every day, but it was definitely the best way to travel, and we had the loveliest time. It was tough being in it all day and then all night but there were plenty of stops on what we affectionately came to call "Our Tour of New Zealand's Best Playgrounds."<br />
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It was the first lot of leave my husband has had in a long time, and certainly the first lot in a very long time that we actually used for its intended purpose. After the year we have had (you know, <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/03/on-day-you-were-born.html">having a baby in the car</a>, <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/07/boxes.html">renovating</a> and <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/08/grown-up-stuff.html">trips to eye doctors</a>) we REALLY needed a holiday. It was exhausting at times and we filled every minute of every day, not just with the holiday stuff, but with the mountains of washing and dishes and all the other every day stuff you do with small children that never stops no matter where you are in the world. The boys excelled at adaptation to life outside of their comfort zone. We were in some kind of parallel time zone and all of us went to sleep together every night (kind of unavoidable in a camper van...). Being together like that was quite simply delightful.<br />
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We had fresh crayfish by the side of the road in Kaikoura and saw fur seals on the beach. We met another Aussie expat family in Blenheim and shared stories of life in Asia and campervan adventures. We drove along the north coast through the Marlborough Sounds, in awe of the sheer beauty of the place. We took a helicopter ride over the Franz Josef Glacier, terrified and ecstatic at the same time to be doing something so different and exciting. We played in the snow on Coronet Peak and sailed on Lake Wakitipu. The boys surprised us again with their patience while we visited a winery and had a bbq with friends in Queenstown. Our trip ended with a sobering tour of Christchurch, a beautiful city whose broken heart is still beating loud and true beneath the rubble.<br />
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To say I enjoyed this trip is quite an understatement. Josh and Charlie both grew up so much and while we had our moments, we bonded, in the way I always imagined families should when they're on holidays. Since we got back home a few days ago the real world has been a bit of a shock. Dealing with post-reno issues, paying for the holiday, all the usual blah blah every day crap is always a bummer after a break but apart from that I'm still on a high. I've come back feeling rejuvenated. Not relaxed by any means, it wasn't that kind of holiday, but I feel ready for another big year, a new project, maybe a few changes - and definitely another holiday in the not-too-distant future.<br />
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<br />BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-46727139265797451332012-10-14T21:39:00.002+08:002012-12-29T16:01:59.613+08:00You Must Be Choking!I love our life here, along with so many things about Hong Kong. During the summer when the sun shines and the sky is blue, it feels close to paradise, and I can see what must've drawn people here many years ago. On a clear day the view of Hong Kong island and the Kowloon peninsula, from anywhere in the territory, is spectacular. But it doesn't last long...<br />
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<a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/search/label/Pollution">I've only ranted a couple of times</a> about the air "situation" here because it does get boring. People who live here don't like it but they've come to accept that it's a part of life here, and ranting about it won't change anything. It's a bit like complaining to the poms that it rains in London, or telling the Aussies how expensive it is to live in Sydney - we know already! The trouble is, I can't accept the pollution, I can't turn a blind eye and just get on with it - it's the one thing that's stopping us from settling here permanently (sorry Mum). Once the wind changes direction at the end of summer the haze settles in like a thick, yellowish fog. You can smell it as soon as you step outside, some days you can smell it inside. The visibility drops significantly and you start to feel like you really shouldn't spend too much time outside, let alone attempt to exert yourself in the great outdoors. I find it suffocating and infuriating.<br />
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I don't understand enough about the composition of the air we breathe, or the pollutants in it, to give you an in-depth discussion on the topic, but I can give you a little summary based on what I understand. There are a couple of different ways to measure "air quality" and a few different organisations around the place that measure it on a daily basis. The Local Environmental Protection Department have their own Air Pollution Index which<span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> is "the conversion of the ambient respirable suspended particulate (RSP), sulphur dioxide (SO</span><sub style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2</sub><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">), carbon monoxide (CO), ozone (O</span><sub style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3</sub><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">) and nitrogen dioxide (NO</span><sub style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2</sub><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">) concentrations." </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The level corresponds to a rating somewhere between 0-500, with 100 being the limit according to HK Air Quality Objectives. Anything over that represents a level of pollutants in the air which would be "harmful to human health." The most common criticism of this is that Hong Kong's government has set its own objectives and measuring system, and these are way too high by international standards. According to the Clean Air Network, a local NGO, "</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #373737; font-family: myriad-pro, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">Hong Kong’s Air Quality Objectives, recommended maximum guidelines for 7 pollutants, permit pollutant levels 2-4 times greater than those recommended under the WHO AQGs." </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: inherit;">The warning system, which tells people basically when to avoid going outside, kicks in at too high a level as well, and this leads to a lot of people getting very sick each year because they do crazy stuff like exercising or breathing... (For more info on the API </span><a href="http://www.epd-asg.gov.hk/english/backgd/calcu.html" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">see here).</a><br />
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<span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Some say the pollution comes from trucks and ships that use "dirty" fuels and coal fired power stations, others say it all comes from the mainland factories just across the border - I say it's a combination of these things, combined with a government that doesn't care enough. </span><span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Since we moved to HK 5 years ago, there have been a number of days on which the pollution levels have not only exceeded the WHO threshold for what is considered safe, but they have set new records for Hong Kong's pollution readings. Every year it seems a new record is set, and the number of days that the pollution levels are hazardous are increasing. There was a day this summer when the API reached something like 250, and it was so bad it made the news in other parts of the world. People on the street were struggling to breathe and I was sure there was more pollution in the air than actual oxygen! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #2a2a2a;">In the short term this poor quality air can lead to watery eyes, sneezing, coughing, sinus pain and irritation, and a tight, burning feeling in the throat and chest, but who knows what it means for our health in the long term? It's certainly not good for my mum guilt! We spent the afternoon at the beach today, ignoring the fact that we couldn't see the horizon, and both boys came home coughing and rubbing their eyes. I feel pretty rotten myself, and the EPD website tells me the main pollutant today was "Respirable Suspended Particulate" (aka dust, organic matter, nitrates, sulphates etc) which can "penetrate deep into the lungs" - great! According to one independent air quality watchdog, the number of particulates in the air was 21 times higher than the WHO limit for safety. 21 times!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #2a2a2a;">Whatever all the numbers mean, however you measure it and wherever it comes from, one thing is certain - we shouldn't have to inhale the crap that we do. And I don't want my boys growing up in a place where toxic air is such a routine part of life that we just don't mention it anymore. It's only October and the wind won't change direction again for at least 6 months, and I've already had enough. Time for a holiday?</span><br />
<br />BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-55947324981239970452012-10-03T21:52:00.000+08:002012-12-29T16:03:27.222+08:00Trash or Treasure?A little while ago I wrote about our <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/07/boxes.html">renovation</a>, and I'm thrilled to say that, 12 weeks later, it's 99% done. I'll get to that another time but I'm mentioning it today because while we were renovating we had a bit of a clear out and that's what I'm writing about now. We couldn't make our house any bigger, we just had to be very clever about the space that we have, and really decide what was important to us - something we should have done years ago.<br />
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I was dead keen to get rid of the old IKEA furniture that came with the house, and Dave was determined that there was no way the old TV was coming back. I managed to reduce the number of toys we had accumulated, and a fair few clothes and books went to charity. We tried to clear out while we packed up, and it felt cathartic initially, but then we ran out of time and shoved things in boxes with the intention of sorting through it when we moved back in. We put a bit in storage and took a lot with us to the house we were staying in. As we went along we shopped for new things and had to figure out where to keep them, and we were very grateful when friends offered to look after things for us. In the end we moved 4 times, had our belongings spread across no less than 6 houses, and on our final move managed to whittle down the essentials to one suitcase and a few boxes of food and toys. It was at that end point, when looking at what we actually needed, what had followed us from one house to the next, that we realised something - we own a lot of crap.<br />
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We moved back in two weeks ago, and we still haven't unpacked all the boxes, and we still have things in storage, but we're almost there. And we are throwing things out or giving them away on a daily basis. There are times when choosing what to throw out, and what to put into storage, has been quite easy. There have been a couple of heated debates about things like whether or not I really need to hang onto my teaching resources from 2003, and if there is a more appropriate place for Dave's model aeroplanes than the bedside table, but mostly we have agreed on what stays, and what goes. We each have one piece or furniture that we have had longer than we've had each other, and neither of them fit into our new aesthetic, but they have stayed and been put to good use. I've mostly enjoyed looking at what we have, and remembering why we've kept it. We both love things that have a history, and all of the pieces of furniture or knick knacks that we have held onto have that in spades, but they also still have a purpose - everything else has had to go. Clothes I haven't worn in the last 12 months, books we haven't read (or books we read and didn't like), old sheets and towels, mismatched dinner plates and cutlery, blinds that no longer fit the windows, and anything broken or unusable is no longer with us.<br />
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The things I've found the hardest to let go of have been the baby things. Friends of ours have, just this weekend, welcomed twin boys. I was more than happy to pass on clothes my boys had grown out of, with the exception of the outfits they each wore home from the hospital, and the little onesie I bought for Charlie the day I found out I was having another boy, but I also found myself keeping anything that was gender neutral. I've still got the majority of my maternity clothes, and anything baby related that I found essential. Even though we don't think a third child is <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/05/lottery.html">a good idea</a>, I keep putting things away "just in case." I sold a few big items recently and it hurt deep inside in a way I didn't expect. We had a bouncer that both boys sat in as newborns, and the moses basket that was Josh's first bed, neither of which were irreplaceable, but I remembered my excitement when I bought them, and the moments of joy that were attached to each of them. I sold a Fisher Price rocker this week - the chair where both boys sat for their first taste of real food. As I was packing it up Dave reminded me of how Josh used to play with the tag on one of the toys for hours on end, and I choked up. It's silly to be attached to things like that, especially when they take up so much room, and are no longer necessary but I can't help it. I'm not sure if I'm struggling with the fact that my boys really aren't babies anymore, or with the idea that there won't be any more babies... Maybe it's a bit of both, but I'm really not ready to let go, no matter how much we need to clear out.<br />
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So the gorgeous new version of the house we're now lucky to be living in is free of outdated IKEA furniture, and the teaching resources are tidily packed up and stored away, but if you look closely you'll find a white onesie here, and a swaddle there, and a co-sleeper under the bed; just in case.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-53818033114471002362012-09-13T19:37:00.002+08:002012-12-29T16:03:58.383+08:00R U OK? - The TunnelToday is <a href="http://www.ruokday.com/">R U OK Day</a>: "<span style="background-color: white; font-family: OmnesMedium; line-height: 18px;">a national day of action on the second Thursday of September</span><strong style="background-color: white; font-family: OmnesMedium; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"> (13 September 2012)</strong><span style="background-color: white; font-family: OmnesMedium; line-height: 18px;">, dedicated to inspiring all people of all backgrounds to regularly ask each other ‘Are you ok?'" </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: OmnesMedium; line-height: 18px;">I had a conversation just yesterday that inspired me to write about this great initiative and to share a very personal story with you all.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: OmnesMedium; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>Some describe depression as a black dog, others say it is like a fog, or a dark cloud. One friend described it as an abyss. For me it feels like a tunnel, spiralling down, dark and full of twists and turns. I was depressed after Josh was born. It took me a long time to figure out what it was and even longer to admit to it, but I was in a very dark place. I finally had almost everything I wanted - a gorgeous husband, a beautiful baby boy, and we had just bought our first home. I felt like I should have been happier than I was, and I hated that I didn't feel like I was "supposed to." I also worried constantly: I worried about whether or not I was a good mother, I worried about whether J was eating enough, whether he was warm enough, if he was happy, if I would be able to put him to sleep at night, how I would cope if I couldn't get him to sleep, whether he loved me and knew how much I loved him; it was constant and endless. I was so highly strung that I couldn't put Josh to bed at night. If he was even remotely unsettled (and he almost always was) I became a nervous wreck. I dreaded 5 o'clock when the wind down/dinner/bath/bed routine began because I knew we'd be up for hours, pacing the floor with a crying baby and I felt like we'd be doing that dance for the rest of our lives. There was no joy in any of it.<br />
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Despite that I still felt blessed, and that was an issue in itself. When I realised how close I was to having the life I always dreamed of, a sense of foreboding came over me and I became terrified that it was all going to be taken away. Worrying about the men in my life was more than I could bear, so I directed that anxious energy into worrying about myself. My hormones were wreaking havoc, and I felt like crap physically - no one had told me that pregnancy was going to have such a huge impact on my body - and I was sure that every ache, every pain, every little symptom was a major illness. After all, I hadn't really done anything to deserve the wonderful life I had, why would I be lucky enough to keep it? I was so afraid of everything, all the time. It cast a shadow over the first 12 months of J's life and there were times when I thought my husband was either going to leave or have me committed. I remember clearly feeling pretty low one day, and no matter how hard I tried, I could not muster any enthusiasm for anything. In frustration my husband pointed out that I was pulling everyone around me into the tunnel, that same darkness. It was a wake up call.<br />
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I wanted someone to see what was happening to me and to show me how to get back to the light. I didn't fit the textbook definition of postnatal depression so I never went to anyone and said "hey, I think I've got PND, can you help me?" I never talked about what was going on, I just couldn't verbalise it. Things really turned around one day when my doctor (who was frankly sick of seeing me) asked if I was happy. I burst into tears and admitted that actually, no, I wasn't. From then on I had to make a conscious effort and seek professional help to pull myself out of the tunnel and back into the land of the living, one step at a time. But it wasn't until I fell pregnant again that I started to feel like I had really walked away from it. It was brought on by a combination, and a culmination, of factors around the time Josh was born, and I was so scared towards the end of my second pregnancy that I was going to go to that dark place again, that I was determined to "get it right" the second time.<br />
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For the first few days after Charlie was born I was riding high on oxytocin and adrenaline and I felt like I had finally put the tunnel behind me. Then came the crash. Being on standby as a milkbar 24 hours a day had taken its toll and I ached all over. I wasn't able to spend as much time with J as I would have liked and he punished me for it. I hopped into bed with him one night to read stories and he screamed for Daddy and hit me in the face. I pushed on and read to him through my tears but it left me feeling like it was all just too damn hard. I had a similar thought the same night at 3am when Charlie was simultaneously vomiting and pooping on my chest... I felt that same familiar stone in the pit of my stomach, pulling me downwards, that urge to run and hide. But I talked about it. I told my husband what I was feeling. I organised a home visit from the lovely Yvonne Heavyside at <a href="http://www.thefamilyzone.hk/">The Family Zone</a>. I took care of myself, and stayed in my pyjamas. I played with Josh, and napped with Charlie. I called my friends, and I pulled myself out of it.<br />
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The conversation I had yesterday revolved around that awful, gut-churning anxiety that I now know many new parents experience at some point. There were a few of us who all had kids around the same age and we had all experienced daily freak-outs about something during those early months of motherhood. Whether it was over taking baby out on an excursion, or settling a colicky newborn, or struggling with breastfeeding (or in my case, all of the above), we were all sitting in our houses, stressed and miserable at roughly the same time, feeling crap and alone. But we weren't alone, we just didn't know it. This revelation was both reassuring and heartbreaking at the same time - if only I had said something to someone I may have spared myself a whole lot of angst...<br />
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My experience with Charlie has been completely different, but it has taken a concerted effort on my part to stay out of the tunnel. It still comes rushing towards me at times, like when I watch the news, or consider getting on a plane, or when I hear of a mother getting sick and leaving her babies behind too soon. But right now I am OK, better than OK, and loving life. We were lucky - we made it through those dark days, but so many don't. And R U OK Day is for them.<br />
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If I've learned anything from this it's that there's no shame in asking for help. It's hard to ask for help, but it's harder still to live through depression and anxiety alone. Whether you need help, or you know someone who might, please reach out today.<br />
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<br />BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-29779549622520341772012-08-30T15:42:00.000+08:002012-08-30T15:45:26.216+08:00Grown Up StuffWe've been busy going about our business lately, caught up in our renovations and daily life with two beautifully busy boys, quietly in denial about the severity of <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/search/label/ELeP">Josh's eye condition</a>. Then a few weeks ago we had a massive reality check when his ophthalmologist (a word I'm really getting sick of writing, so will now refer to her as the Oph.) presented his case at a conference. She got back to us with a recommendation we'd been dreading - surgery.<br />
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There wasn't a general consensus at the conference amongst all the Ophs that were there, only discussion that surgery was an option worth exploring. It has been done, with success on patients with similar conditions, but J's particular condition is so rare, that no one knows exactly what the outcome would be. It could be an improvement, or it might not change anything. If he doesn't respond well, if his eye reacts badly to the procedure, or if the structure of the eye is in anyway compromised, it could very well make things worse. It's a roll-the-dice type scenario and we are more than terrified. Our Oph was hesitant to say one way or the other what we should do, which makes decision making pretty difficult, but she did say we need to make a decision soon.<br />
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We then saw an Oph here, a great guy, a rare treat in a city where decent specialists are few and far between. He also used the "S" word, but explained it to us in a way that made us realise we didn't really have a choice. It's now not a matter of if, but when... There's a fairly small window of opportunity here, while his brain and eye develop neural pathways between each other. The good news is that his vision was better when he was small so he already has the foundations laid, but as the condition progresses (and by progresses I mean, gets worse), what he sees is less clear and the brain can't decipher it as easily, so it may very well shut off the right eye. Surgery would remove the obstacle, his lens, and hopefully give him a better line of vision. He'd have to wear a contact lens and his glasses and I imagine, initially, he won't like that very much.<br />
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There are so, so, so many unknowns and it feels like a giant leap of faith. We also need to decide where to have the surgery - here, where everything is familiar and comfortable - or in Sydney, where the better specialists and family are, but where it's all a bit different and less comfortable. I suddenly feel very old. When did I become responsible for making these major decisions for another person? We're talking about our son having usable vision in one of his eyes, or not, how do we possibly make that call, knowing he will have to live with it forever if it doesn't work out? On the other hand, doing nothing could also be a really bad move. I'm torn between wanting to protect the little guy from the ordeal of general anaesthesia, hospital and a potentially long recovery, and the knowledge that we really need to do what it is in our power to do, to save his eyesight and give him a decent shot at maybe one day driving a car, backpacking around the world on his own, and doing all the other things us sighted people take for granted.<br />
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When I was 14 I had major surgery on my jaw. The doctors sold it to my parents as being necessary to prevent future problems. They trusted the advice they were given, and I had the surgery, spent a night in intensive care, a week in hospital, and six weeks eating through a straw. I woke up from the anaesthesia and the first thing I saw was my mum, crying beside the bed. I was high on pethidine and didn't know what she was so upset about. Even when I saw my bruised, swollen and unrecognisable self in the mirror later that day, I still didn't get it. Faced with the prospect of being on the other side of the bed, being that parent, I finally do understand, and I really wish I didn't.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-3550095440052955132012-08-15T16:31:00.000+08:002012-08-30T15:48:15.514+08:00People In Glass HousesLet me start by saying I have been incredibly lucky. My friends are nothing but supportive, and have always been great sources of advice, comfort, reality checks and chocolate - whichever is most appropriate at the time. Today's post came about while I was researching for an article I'm writing. I asked for input from lots of different sources and I came across something that made me a little uneasy. There were some who were quite outspoken in their opinions to the point that some comments caused offense. There were others who were afraid to speak their minds on a public forum or at mother's groups for fear of being vilified for their choices (based on previous experiences.) This is my response to all of that...<br />
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I hate to admit it but I am guilty of being judgemental from time to time. I've looked at other mothers and raised a brow at some of the things I've seen and heard. I try to be discreet about it and keep my judgements to myself but I know there have been times when I have pushed my opinions onto others, sometimes because I wanted to be helpful, but I'm ashamed to admit, at other times I've done it because I thought my way was better. Sometimes I get so frustrated that I want to scream "what are you doing?!?" but I don't. I know how it feels to be judged, and there are a lot of things I do that make me feel so guilty that I want to curl up into a ball on the floor (and it's pretty tough to be judgemental from down there). Like giving my baby boy a bottle of formula at night so he'll sleep through (something I feel so guilty about I'm not doing it anymore). Or occasionally putting my toddler to bed early so I can have a glass of wine and watch TV at the end of a very long day (definitely still going to do that). To some mothers these actions are comparable to heinous crimes, and while I believe that everyone is entitled to their own opinion, what I don't get is women who feel they have the right to openly berate anyone whose parenting style differs to theirs. Being a mother is hard enough without other mothers, who you imagine would be your best allies, quite openly attacking the choices you've made (especially before they know the reasons behind those choices...). I don't know many ladies who would dare to criticise what their friends are wearing to their faces, or tell them what they're doing wrong in their jobs or their marriages - so why do so many of us feel it's ok to judge a mummy who might do things a little differently when it comes to parenting? Surely if any area of our lives deserves support, sensitivity and tact, motherhood must be it?<br />
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Not a single day goes by when I don't feel guilty about something. I am constantly questioning every choice I make. I am far from perfect and, to be perfectly honest, I die a little inside every time I do something that someone has told me will be bad for my kids. Like giving them formula, or letting them cry a little before they go to sleep. Even as I write this, and admit that I do those things, I'm cringing because I know there are some of you out there thinking "I can't believe she does that!" </div>
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So, why are we so quick to judge, so keen to criticise? Is there any mother out there who doesn't question herself at least once a day? How many of you haven't had that crisis of conscience, that voice in the back of your head questioning a certain move, that late night, panicked trawl through baby books and parenting websites, desperate for answers?? Are any of us so good at this gig that we have the right to tell others what they're doing wrong, without first wondering if maybe they have good reasons for doing what they're doing? Is it a misguided attempt to be helpful? To make ourselves feel better about what <i>we're</i> doing? Or are some of us just completely oblivious to the fact that our "suggestions" might cause angst and heartache? I just read <a href="http://www.divinecaroline.com/22106/102744-grown-up-mean-girls-dealing-mom">this great post about "Mom Bullies"</a> that does a great job of describing the kind of mums I'm talking about. I agree that parenting is a damn tough job, and when you have a good day, when you find what works, you have every right to feel sanctimonious and superior. And I know how tempting it can be to share your insights when you see that someone has made a decision without knowing all the facts (I had to bite my tongue very recently). But that doesn't mean that what you do - what works in your house - will work in mine. Because really, whatever you practise, whichever parenting philosophy you subscribe to, there will always be "evidence" to back it up, and you will always find someone who agrees with you and who will tell you you are absolutely, 100%, without a doubt, doing the right thing for your family. But likewise, there will always be just as many voices that argue against it, and for those of us who aren't that confident, despite all that evidence, it's that one negative voice in the day that speaks the loudest. And don't get me started on how easily such helpful suggestions can be misconstrued in emails or forum comments. A tongue-in-cheek, "oh, he really should poo more often," can easily be read as, "you're clearly neglecting his needs."<br />
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When a friend, or a complete stranger for that matter, confides in you that she is thinking about giving up breastfeeding/going back to work/trying "cry-it-out" sleep training/swinging from the chandeliers high on Xanax every night, what she's really looking for is reassurance. She wants you to tell her she's doing the right thing. However much you disagree with her choices, whatever you know that she doesn't, whichever choices you think she should be making instead, chances are she has already made up her mind, and your input will not change it - it may just alienate her. If it works for her, then it will always be the right choice. What we all need is support and respect for our decisions, and the best thing you can say to someone seeking advice is "I don't know what I'm doing either..." That's not to say that you should never offer advice, because advice can literally save lives, just think very carefully about how you deliver it. A mum carrying her baby incorrectly in a sling, should probably be told, but the one buying formula, might be less receptive...<br />
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I could write post after post justifying the choices I've made, but I won't, because I believe that I shouldn't have to. But I still feel like I need to at times, and I hate that. Our world revolves around our boys (yes, we live in a <a href="http://kindergarchy/">Kindergarchy</a>, deal with it), and when it comes to how to raise them we make educated decisions whenever possible, and the rest of the time we rely on gut instinct and our hearts to work out what is best for them, and we strive to make sure the needs of every family member are met. We want our kids to be happy, healthy, well behaved, independent young men who feel loved and know that they can rely on their parents to make the right choices, does any of that sound like the motivations of a bad parent? We all want that for our kids, does it really matter how we go about it? And is it anybody else's business? I may not be a perfect parent, and I'm overwhelmed by how little I actually know, but most of the time I know what works for us. So until my boys can tell me I'm doing a great job (and they may never get around to it) I just have to look at them and see how happy and healthy and bright they are, to know I'm doing the very best I can right now, with the resources I have to hand. And then I'll have another chocolate biscuit, put the boys in front of the TV and call my friends and tell them what a great job they're doing, because that's the kind of mother I want to be. It's a constant work in progress, and as I've educated myself I've changed the way we do things - but it hasn't ever been because someone has told me I'm doing it wrong.<br />
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There are so many factors that influence the choices every parent makes, and they may not always do what is considered "right" or even what they planned to do, but you can never know what is behind someone else's decisions. It's quite possible that choosing to give a baby formula, or going back to work, co-sleeping, using disposable nappies, or whatever it is you disagree with, may have been one of the toughest decisions that parent has made. In fact, the decision may have been out of their hands entirely. So, before you judge a friend, a neighbour, a random stranger on a forum who might be desperately seeking advice and wanting someone to tell her that what she's doing is ok, remember how tough this parenting gig is, and try not to make it any harder. We all deserve credit for loving our kids and doing the very best we can.<br />
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<a href="http://630andaglassofwine.bangordailynews.com/2011/12/07/married-life/im-a-good-mother-youre-a-good-mother/">THIS POST RIGHT HERE</a> is at the top of my list of "Posts I Wish I'd Written," and it perfectly sums up what I've been thinking this week and what I wanted to say today, only it says it better, of course. <br />
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And just to show I'm a good sport, here's a <a href="http://thestir.cafemom.com/baby/110001/its_not_sanctimony_its_honest">completely different point of view</a> for the mums who do step in and bravely offer advice out of genuine concern. </div>
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BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-90624949968154011542012-07-09T10:13:00.003+08:002012-08-30T15:49:07.823+08:00BoxesSeveral months ago I wrote about <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2011/12/house-or-home.html">putting our house on the market</a>, and never got around to updating you all on how that panned out. Well, we didn't get an offer that would have been worth the effort of packing up and moving at 9 months pregnant, and pulled the pin. This left us right back where we started, and when the "oven" packed it in it was the last straw. We decided to renovate.<br />
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It took some financial wizardry and a whole lot of planning, hours and hours of excruciating budgeting and planning, but we are now less than 5 days away from demolition day. I never thought I could be so excited at the prospect of men coming into my house with sledgehammers and crow bars but I cannot wait! We're not going overboard, since we can't make the place any bigger and will probably outgrow it soon enough, but we are doing everything we've dreamed about doing since we moved in - new floors, re-plastering and painting, new double-glazed windows, a walk-in wardrobe, toy storage under that stairs, and the crowning glory - a brand new kitchen (with a real oven, and a dishwasher!). The beauty of having to wait for these seemingly simple things for so long is that they will be appreciated all the more when we finally have them (with any luck, by September).<br />
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The only sticking point is that we have to move out... We have friends who will be home in Canada for the summer and they have kindly offered us their place for a couple of months. It's a nicer place than ours will ever be, with a yard (and grass!) and a pool, so we're quite excited about living there for a while. But we have been packing for what feels like weeks. I am a bit obsessive when it comes to packing. I like to take the opportunity to clear out stuff we've been hanging onto for too long. I also like to know what's in every box so it's easier when it comes time to unpack. It's a good method, but it makes it really difficult for anyone trying to help me... Moving out to renovate is also quite different to simply moving. Some of our things will have to be in storage for a couple of months, so we need to decide what we will take with us to our temporary home and what we can do without.<br />
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Our friends have kids, so we won't need to take many toys. They were the first things I packed and surprisingly few of them have been missed. I do have to pack when Josh is asleep though, as he spots me putting something in a box and cries "I want it, I want it!" and pulls it out again. I'm embarrassed to admit that the chaos of boxes everywhere doesn't look all that different to the chaos of living here. Something else that will hopefully change when we move back in. We all stopped caring about the state of the place a while ago, but this move and all the changes we are making will be like a cleansing, and I will care very much when the house is "new" and everything has a place.<br />
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We've just been told that the removalists can only come a day earlier than we planned, so I'll be moving with both boys, and spending our first night somewhere different on my own, tomorrow. But I still can't wait. That says a lot about how much I want this.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-89205763789082915722012-06-20T19:54:00.000+08:002012-08-30T15:50:15.735+08:00D For DebentureWhen I was a kid growing up in a small country town, school was pretty basic. I went to "pre-school" a couple of times a week at the ages of 3 and 4, and when I turned 5 I went to "kindergarten" at one of the local primary schools. I stayed at the same school until year 10 and from there went to a public high school because it was the only school in town that offered the last 2 years of secondary school. University was a pretty big shock but I loved school, so I wouldn't have had it any other way. Here in Hong Kong the options seem endless, and deciding where to send Josh has already caused us inconceivable stress.<br />
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For those of you who don't know Hong Kong (or for those who do but haven't gotten this far yet), let me break it down for you...<br />
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<li>There are three types of schools here: 1. Local or government schools which teach the local curriculum, in Cantonese with some English. 2. ESF schools, which are partially government funded, entirely English speaking and offer either British curriculum or PYP (primary level preparation for the International Baccalaureate). 3. International schools, which offer a wide range of curricula, languages and subjects, but are also expensive and selective. </li>
<li>Children start "Kindergarten" the year they turn 3. Some schools base their intake on the year the child was born. Others base it on a school year or similar August-August type criteria. </li>
<li>Waiting lists are standard. Many schools won't accept children onto their waiting list until 12 months before they're due to start. While others will quite happily take applications from birth. I have heard rumours of some parents attaching ultrasound scan photos to application forms, it's that competitive. You generally pay a fee for the privilege of having your child's name on a list, and another fee each year to keep it there. For people who move here with their kids already at school age this can be a huge obstacle. And don't get me started on how much the <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.hk/2012/01/enter-dragon.html">dragon year baby boom</a> has affected waiting lists...</li>
<li>Many international schools require parents to pay a debenture, a concept that was entirely foreign to us before we came here. It's basically a "donation" to the school to ensure a place, and the more you can afford to pay, the greater the chances your child will get in. </li>
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So, Josh turns three at the end of this year. Many of his little friends are gearing up for kindy in September. Crazy, laid-back parents that we are, we thought 2 years 8 months was just a little too young for our guy to be heading off to school and we looked into keeping him back a year. I look at all the boys who were born earlier in 2009 and they all seem so much bigger than J. Unfortunately, holding kids back is not something that's encouraged here, and it seems to be a case of sink or swim. At this age it probably isn't such a big deal, but I know from my years as a teacher that it can make a huge difference in primary school. Given the issues with his eyesight we really want to get this right, and if he has the advantage of being one of the older kids in the class, it could really help preserve his confidence. Another option for us was to apply to schools with a different age intake, which we did. We found a couple of schools where he would be right in the middle of the age bracket, and they just happen to start with "reception" at age 4. Perfect, right?</div>
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Once we found schools with the right age bracket and good reputations, we then had to narrow them down based on whether or not they offer special needs support, and how many children are in each class. J's ophthalmologist assures us that he should be able to cope with mainstream schooling, but we don't know yet how much support, if any, he'll need. We want to make sure it's at least available before we commit. I'm also really conscious of the fact that many schools think nothing of cramming 30 students into a classroom with one teacher, and expecting him or her to meet the needs of all of them. But I know that even the best teachers find this very difficult. I don't want J to get lost in the system, so small class sizes are crucial in my opinion. </div>
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After taking all of this into consideration, we had two great schools on our list. This is when we encountered enormous waiting lists and that dirty word, <i>debenture</i>. One school requires a minimum $100, 000 HKD debenture which depreciates over 7 years, for each child. You only pay the debenture when you accept a place at the school. But there are limited places available, and those who can pay more have a better chance of getting their child in to that school. We don't have $100, 000 just lying around, but we could scrape it together (i.e. sell the house or a couple of kidneys), and we would, we just hate that we have to. The second school on our list appeals to me more because it's different, and it seems like it would be a really exciting place to be, as a student or a teacher. There's no waiting list as such, you just have to prove that your child will add to the "diversity" of the school, but the debenture is $400, 000 per child... </div>
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In the meantime, Josh needs something to occupy him, so we have been looking at kindergartens. We applied to two schools with fairly good links to great primary schools, and we attended "playdates" (i.e. interviews) at both this week. We weren't really sold on either to be honest, and I kind of knew as soon as I walked in that neither of them were the right fit - occupational hazard I guess. So, we've decided that since we're unable to decide what to do, we'll do nothing. He's TWO after all! We'll keep him where he is, where he's happy and it's familiar and they're not asking us to hand over our life-savings, or lack thereof, and we'll wait and see what we get offered. Some families don't have that luxury and some big changes need to be made to the system, soon.<br />
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There's always homeschooling I guess!</div>
BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-81099608903891669972012-06-06T21:46:00.000+08:002012-08-30T15:51:34.717+08:00Second Time AroundYou know all those things I said I'd never do again? All the mistakes I made and the lessons I learned the first time? Well... I'm doing it all again - rocking Charlie to sleep, giving him a dummy, carrying him around wherever I go when he absolutely refuses to sleep, feeding him in bed till we both fall asleep, and sitting around all day just enjoying his company instead of getting off my butt (which apparently did not receive the memo that we are no longer pregnant) and doing something resembling exercise/housework. I've given myself permission to do it all over again because I know what I'm doing this time, I know we'll end up with some bad habits and I'm ok with that. It's all about survival at the moment and if I have to take the path of least resistance to get through the next 6 months, so be it.<br />
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I read through book after book trying to find answers when J was smaller, and when I realised that none of them answered any of my questions, I tossed them all out. Some were a little helpful, but despite the one-size-fits-all solutions offered, my child just didn't comply. When Charlie came along he surprised us by being a comparatively easy baby and I didn't feel the need to turn to "experts" for advice. Then he hit the baby version of menopause - "the 6 week change" as Robin Barker calls it - and started napping for no more than 20 minutes at a time, several times a day. It was all too familiar...<br />
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I didn't have much of a plan in the beginning, I just knew I wanted to do things differently the second time around, I was determined, perhaps somewhat naively, to nip it in the bud. When Charlie went through "the change" I had no choice but to go back to the books. I borrowed one from a friend called "Sleep Sense" and it really did make sense. There were a few new, and genuinely helpful, pieces of advice in there but it was all just a bit too familiar. Again I was left asking, "but what do I do when...?" So I've decided that, for now, rather than trying to find one philosophy, one solution to all my problems, I'm going to do whatever the hell feels right at the time. At least once a day we practice attachment parenting, and Charlie naps on my chest or in the Ergo. Other times I channel the Baby Whisperer and take a firm but fair approach. Then there are times when he needs some serious Gina Ford style wrangling to go the f##k to sleep... At least I'm consistent in my inconsistency, and I now have a 3 month old who goes to bed at 6pm every night and sleeps for 12 hours. I'm always going to stress about whether or not I'm doing the right thing, and I will question myself every step of the way but that's just one more thing the books can't help me with.<br />
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A friend told me, before Charlie arrived, that I'd appreciate baby number 2 all the more for the simple fact that, unlike with the first child, I wouldn't end up resenting the disruption to our lives. I wasn't sure I got what she meant at the time but now I do. Our lives were already chaos, and Charlie fit right in, like he was meant to be here, and we simply carried on. What has struck me the most is that the first 3 months of his life have gone so much faster than Josh's first 3 months (which dragged on FOREVER!). We got to the 12 week mark, looked at each other and said, "you know what, that wasn't so bad." And we gave ourselves a little pat on the back for making it through. There are still tough days, really really long days, and days when I have no clue what I'm doing, but unlike the first time around, I know they won't last. And there's a good chance that when Charlie is a strong and independent little man, I'll long for the days when he needed me wrapped around him to fall asleep. So I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing, making those mistakes, setting us up for bad habits, because I know that, if in making those mistakes again we risk history repeating itself, we'll be ok. Because we survived the last two years and we have a pretty awesome 2 year old to show for it.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-82756457422626887612012-05-23T10:25:00.000+08:002012-05-23T11:23:31.447+08:00Zzzzzzzzzz!Sleep. When you're a parent of small children it becomes an obsession. When I'm awake I'm structuring our day to make sure both boys are stimulated and fed enough (but not too much) to make sure they are perfectly worn out and drowsy at night. When I'm asleep I'm usually concentrating very hard on staying asleep, and praying that I get enough to make it through the next day. Anything that disturbs the balance - a fever, a nightmare, the dog, a thunderstorm, a f**king jackhammer in the daytime, is met with an exhausted rage that would make me cry if only I had the energy. Quite simply, I live, eat and breathe sleep. After 12 weeks of getting 4 consecutive hours at the most, I am barely functioning, and definitely not "firing on all cylinders," as my husband so eloquently puts it. When anyone asks me how I am my response is usually, "so freaking tired." Sleep has become such a precious commodity that if someone offered me a choice between a gift of diamonds, or 24 hours, by myself in a hotel, I would take the sleep without giving it a second thought. It's boring I know, but I cannot think or talk about anything else until I get some sleep.<br />
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The old "sleep when the baby sleeps" goes out the window when you also have a toddler, and if there are less than 3 adults in the house, the chance to catch up evaporates faster than my patience. For something so essential to survival, I cannot believe that babies are born not knowing how to sleep. It's not rocket science kiddies! They don't know that they need it and as their parents you need to help them, for your sake as much as theirs. It's a delicate balancing act, and what worked for one kid might have the opposite effect on the other. So my days and nights have been spent tweaking things ever so slightly looking for the magic combination. Charlie doesn't like to be swaddled, and he sleeps better when the fan is on instead of the air-con. We need to give him a dream-feed, something we never did with Josh, and he prefers to go to sleep with white noise in the background, rather than music. It also helps when I am absolutely shattered and don't hear him fussing. I've been getting him up and popping a boob in his mouth whenever he stirred, pre-empting a crying fit which would wake everyone else, but it turns out I didn't need to. Last night we got the balance right, we found the holy grail, and the little guy slept for 12 solid hours! I slept through every whimper and grunt, and when he was done, Charlie just carried on sleeping. The urge to feed woke me before he did (they don't call it a let-down for nothing...) but I know now that he doesn't need to eat as often as I was trying to feed him. I'd be cross with myself for not figuring it out sooner if I wasn't so overjoyed. I feel like a new woman, like I could take on the world. I know there will always be bad nights, and tonight could very well be one of them. If I have learned anything from this parenting gig, it's that things always change just when you think you've got them figured out. But I have seen the light at the end of the tunnel.<br />
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It's official - Charlie can sleep through. Now we just need to convince his big brother to do the same...<br />
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For those of you in the same boat, you are not alone. This is old, but it still makes me smile - <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xtcB457jqQ">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3xtcB457jqQ</a>BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-38901734171540576602012-05-07T13:01:00.001+08:002012-05-07T13:07:52.821+08:00The LotteryI've stolen the title for this post from friends who have recently experienced a devastating loss in the genetic lottery (<a href="http://comradeclimas.blogspot.com/2012/05/climas-20h-no.html?m=1">Read here</a> and <a href="http://feedpoopsleep.wordpress.com/2012/04/29/shades-of-bleak/">here</a>). My heart goes out to them, and while our own genetic shortcomings are nowhere near as traumatic, I can certainly relate to the confusion and guilt and overwhelming sadness that comes with the realisation that procreating isn't going to be as straightforward as you imagine it will be. Seriously, I have no idea how there are 7 billion people on Earth, because it all seems so freaking difficult right now.<br />
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With the <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.com/2012/04/new-normal.html">Pandora's box</a> that we opened on a random Tuesday a few months ago, came a new language, and a whole new set of things to worry about (because as parents, we simply don't worry enough...). Learning 7 months into a pregnancy that you unknowingly passed on a potentially debilitating condition to your firstborn isn't the happy news you hope to hear at that point, and I spent an extremely anxious few months waiting to see if my little BITO was also affected. We have yet to have it confirmed by professionals, but for now it looks like Charlie's eyes are fine (fingers still crossed). We always said that if Charlie escaped any genetic mishaps we'd consider having a 3rd child. It was always in the plan, but that 25% chance of ELeP put a shadow over any dreams we had for a big family. The Geneticist we consulted recently was somewhat helpful in this regard, but we've learned that genetics are a murky business and it really is like looking for a needle in a haystack. I won't bore you with the technicalities of what we have been told but at this stage we have more questions than we have answers. When it comes to future babies, we need to wait until we know more about what has caused ELeP in Josh.<br />
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I want to wait, but I can't stop thinking about it. Well-meaning friends and family have told me I shouldn't worry about it for now - there are bigger things to worry about after all. Rest assured, I am still worrying about everything else, but being a very capable multi-tasker, I'm managing to worry about it all at the same time. We've been told we have three options, something to think about until we're ready to think about it some more. We can spin the wheel and take our chances again, knowing that J got off lightly and baby # 3 could have a more serious case of ELeP (in other words, be born blind). This condition doesn't just cause a vision impairment, but an obvious physical deformity of the eyes as well. It's not immediately apparent what is different about J's eyes, but they are definitely different. I've seen some pretty frightening images of others with more serious cases of the condition, and they will haunt me every time I think about how bad it could be. The good news is that, while it won't get any better and his eyesight may deteriorate over time, the deformity itself isn't progressive - a small mercy. But if we took our chances, I'd never forgive myself if we had another baby with ELeP, I couldn't, in good conscience, take such a risk.<br />
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We've also been given information on "Assisted Reproduction" - IVF followed by screening of embryos for specific genes. It seems crazy given how easily we reproduce, and it opens up some ethical issues that I'm not entirely comfortable with. While I don't like option A, I like the idea of a "designer baby" even less... It may be the only way we can have another child that is biologically ours, without the risk of passing on ELeP, but there are so many, almost too many, what ifs in this scenario. Like, what if we end up with twins!? Or what if we go to all this trouble and end up with something else going wrong!!? Is it worth putting ourselves through the physical, emotional and financial toll of this process when we already have two awesome little boys...?<br />
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Option C is the least appealing, and that would be admitting that we are done having babies. Our Charlie is only 9 weeks old, but he has been so delightful that I can't bear the thought of never experiencing this again. My life is full, and our family is more than I had ever hoped for, but I'm not sure that I can say it's complete. On learning that we might have to call it quits prematurely my heart broke. If we made this decision, no matter how right the reasons, I would grieve. I am immensely grateful for the two perfect children I have, but it's because they make me so happy that I want more. Is that greedy? Maybe, but the heart wants what it wants.BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6909867752899675775.post-64143582539381802602012-04-30T13:43:00.000+08:002012-12-29T16:05:24.230+08:00The New NormalAfter the initial diagnosis of Josh's <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.com/2012/01/eye-of-beholder.html">eye condition</a>, I went to a pretty dark place. It was heartbreaking, and unfair, and I was guilt ridden in only the way a mummy can be. Then we just <a href="http://typhoonsandtantrums.blogspot.com/2012/01/keeping-it-real.html">got on with it</a>, and I saw him being a normal two year old, and went into a bit of denial. We put his glasses on and integrated the eye drops into the daily routine, but not much changed. When Charlie was born I looked anxiously into his eyes to look for the same tell-tale signs of ELeP, and despite not finding any, still spend disproportionate amounts of time staring at him. After all, we thought J looked "normal" for so long, maybe we were simply blinded by love and incapable of finding any fault in our children. Apart from that, I tended not to think about how this condition would impact on J's life and our future.<br />
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That all changed last week. David and Josh spent a week in Sydney and met with a team of specialists. There was the Paediatrician, who will oversee and coordinate all the different specialists we need, the Geneticist, who will help us figure out exactly what we're dealing with, and of course, the Ophthalmologist. So far, it would seem that we have been blessed with a "normal" healthy toddler (insert sigh of relief here). His wonky head is still of some concern, and we have to add a Neurosurgeon to our team sooner rather than later (a sickening prospect), but we have escaped anything really serious (for now). The Ophthalmologist spent a lot of time answering our questions. It's such a freaking rare condition that doctors who recognise it are even rarer, so we got lucky when we found Dr R. She was happy with his progress and filled us in on the next stage of treatment and some pretty big decisions we'll need to make in the future. She mentioned the risk of retinal detachment again, so he'll never play contact sports. And he may never drive a car. Things like that had never occurred to me, and it seems like a trivial thing to fixate on, but it really brought it home to me just how big a deal this condition is. I was devastated. I want to tell my boys that they can do anything they want to do when they grow up, but now somehow it feels like a little bit of lie. J simply won't be able to do whatever he wants, and that hurts. I know these things are a long way off, and hopefully there'll be more options for J in the future, but until then I'm dealing with a very different reality to the one I envisaged for my son. He can still have a great life, but it will be different, and for a little boy completely obsessed with vehicles of every description, it seems cruel to me that he may only ever be able to operate the toy versions of them.<br />
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We'll never be able to fix this thing, but we can make sure that J develops as much sight as possible in both eyes. At his age, while connections are still being built between the eyes and the brain, it's a case of use it or lose it. Which means putting a patch over the weaker eye for a few hours a day. Given his response to having to wear glasses I knew this would be a challenge. We had some time together on the weekend, and I decided to introduce the patch, or "special face sticker" as we call it. I put on my teacher's hat, and pulled out a few tricks (and a lot of bribes) and he wore it for a whole half hour. The teacher in me was proud, but watching him tripping over things and really struggling to see, the mummy side took over and I was fighting back the tears.<br />
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We've had a few developments with toilet training this week, and I've been wanting to wean him from the damn dummy soon, but part of me wonders if we should be bombarding him with so many changes at the one time. Then last night he got so excited when he peed on the toilet I realised that we need to keep things as normal as possible if we want him to keep feeling like a normal kid. Peeing on the toilet is a big deal to a 2 year old, and any win is a big win. So while I want to indulge him, I think helping him to grow up, and treating him no differently to all the other toddlers out there, is the kindest thing I can do for him. And in a funny way, these small battles help me stay focused on what really matters.<br />
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As for Charlie, his eyes are completely different to his big brother's and a beautiful shade of blue. We'll have to take him to Dr R next time just to be sure, but we are almost 100% confident that he won't have any eye problems. We got lucky, with both boys really, but we're now left wondering whether we'll get lucky again, and if we're willing to take the risk. Read all about it in my next post "The Lottery."BLWChttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15125222924808203732noreply@blogger.com1