Double Trouble (But So Much Love!)

The Monster's back... As in the Baby Monster, as it's known in our house. I know I've protested rather loudly lately that I'm nowhere near ready for another baby, and for the most part that's still the case, but it has been divine sharing my days with my two favourite people under the age of three, instead of just one. There is so much to love about having two kids, and I can't help thinking about how lovely another one would be. Arghhhh, not yet, not yet!

I never understood how people could have their babies close together; I thought it was way more work than anyone should ever wish to take on, but I do see the logic now. I've missed that particular window of opportunity but if were to be mad enough to consider a third child one day, it could very well be hot on the heels of the second, so to speak. J and my niece A are 13 months apart in age and they have had a great time together this week, playing in the pool, chasing each other around the apartment and indulging in their mutual love for Justine Clarke and the Wiggles. Two kids may be ten times the work but they are oodles of fun, and I love getting double doses of kisses and cuddles every day.

On the downside (and I really need to focus on the downside!), neither of them are great at sharing, and they want to do everything that the other is doing. That's ok at mealtimes and bathtime, but once we even had them doing tandem poo poo's! And they definitely feed off each other when they're in simultaneous bad moods. A sensed that J was having a bad day with his teething, earlier in the week, and she was particularly difficult at dinnertime; spitting out her pasta just because he was. Outings can be a challenge, especially when one or the other, or both of them want to walk; you really need an extra pair of hands, to wrangle recalcitrant toddlers back into line. Luckily I have two helpers, so I don't have to worry about anything other than the two beautiful people I'm lucky to be spending my days with. And there's no shortage of things to occupy them here; Gymboree, a massive garden, several pools and plenty of loving arms everywhere we go.

Even with all the help I'm exhausted and I have a whole lot of respect for mums who do it all, every day, all on their own. I might be naive but I'm hoping that taking care of someone else's child as well as my own, and trying to respect their way of parenting, is somewhat more challenging than if they were both mine. Either way it's a good kind of exhausted and I like the way two kids fill my day, and my heart, and constantly surprise and amuse me. It hasn't all been easy; I've had a lot of moments where I've questioned whether or not I've been doing the right thing. I can't in any way be a substitute for A's mummy, but I can make sure she eats and sleeps and has a bath, and is as happy as she can be under the circumstances. I had a nap yesterday afternoon and when I woke up I realised that one of the kids' daddies was alone with both of them. I wondered to myself what he would do with them if I left them alone; would he be able to occupy them the way that I had all week? I laughed out loud at the thought. I was so pleased when I came out and found our helper playing with them while daddy was on the computer. The fact that it hadn't even occurred to him to try and take them out was the validation I needed that I am definitely the one for this particular job. My mummying skills, still so new, have really been put to the test, and I think I've done a pretty good job. They both still love me at the end of the week, which is all I can really ask for.

Letting Go

I'm sitting in my living room at 10am, still in my pyjamas, surrounded by toys and debris, there are dirty dishes in the sink and the laundry basket is overflowing. But I've decided not to care. My Christmas present to myself this year is permission to let go. Granted, it's only been a week that I've had to do all the work myself, but while my helper's away I've been killing myself trying to maintain the standards of cleanliness that we're used to, forgetting that our helper's sole purpose is to keep the place clean. I have several purposes at the moment and I've had to admit that I can't do it all. So I'm going to stop trying to. 

I have friends in places other than Hong Kong, who don't have helpers, some don't even have family close by, and yet they manage to look after their kids and keep the house running while their husbands are away, sometimes for 10 days at a time. I've marvelled at how they manage to keep it all together and maintain their sanity. Most of the mums I've spoken to about this say that the only way to cope is to give up something. One mum, a friend of a friend, always looks immaculate, but her boys are little terrors. She's decided that discipline and behaviour aren't a big deal, preferring instead to spend a little time on herself. Others aren't too fussed about the housework, putting that way down on the priority list. Socialising and quality time with your husband are also put on the shelf at times. I've realised this week, that I could do without a helper but something would definitely have to give. I worked my butt off on Tuesday to make sure the house was tidy when my husband came home that night. I know for sure that if I didn't have a helper, I would not make this effort every week. I'd probably leave the house in a state deliberately so D could see what it's like most of the time he's away. The dog would end up completely neglected, and there's no way I'd ever iron anything. I probably wouldn't be able to work either, but that would be a sacrifice I'd be willing to make. 

The best part about the last week has been the amount of time I've spent with my amazing little guy. We have had so much fun together and I've absolutely loved every minute of it. Despite being ridiculously busy, I've had more time to sit on the carpet and play. And rather than leaving J at home while I go to the shops, I've been taking him everywhere with me. He's fabulous company and I'm so grateful that we've been able to spend this time together. I've learned that, until now, I've been occupying myself with a lot of stuff that's just not important, and that's what I'm letting go of. I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself to try and keep everything running smoothly and make everyone around me happy. I want to be liked and respected and keep up with the mums around me who always look good and have beautiful homes and great hair, and still have time to go to work and look after the kids and bake cookies on the weekend. Now I know that they've probably made a lot of sacrifices to maintain that lifestyle, I don't feel so bad.

If I've learned anything this year, it's to value what's important and make the most of it, you just have to work out what that is. I can keep trying to 'do it all' but if I really think about it I think I'll find that I really don't care if the floor's clean or the washing's folded. So I'm going to spend the next couple of days tidying, baking, shopping, wrapping presents, and preparing an amazing Christmas dinner. Not because I have to, but because I want to. If I can spend the day with my gorgeous son and collapse on the sofa at the end of it with my husband, mince pies, mulled wine and tacky Christmas movies, I'll be very happy indeed. 

Hong Kong - A Survival Guide

Firstly, I have to mention the changes I've made to the appearance of the blog. I spend so much time looking at the page that I was starting to get a little bored. I discovered some fantastic backgrounds and was inspired to make a few changes, it's a bit like getting a new haircut. I hope you like what I've done and I'd love to hear what you think.

Secondly, I've realised that I've been on my soapbox a bit lately, and I'm probably starting to sound like I don't like Hong Kong all that much. It's true, I struggle from time to time, and I'm intensely homesick as Christmas looms but there are a lot of things I love about this place we now call home. I've decided to write a 2 part series on life in HK. Today's post will be a guide to the top 10 things you need as a parent living in this city. Stay tuned for a post later in the week where I'll give my top 10 things I love about HK. For today, the things you need to survive parenthood in Hong Kong:

1. A decent stroller. Most people I know, including us, own two. One for jogging or going for walks close to home, the other for trips out and about. We recently bought a Maclaren Quest: without a doubt THE best purchase we have made for J. It's light, zippy, easy to fold and comfortable. It reclines nicely for sleeping and has a basket for shopping underneath. It's also so small and light that most cab drivers will let you put it in the backseat beside you instead of in the boot (trunk). There are a vast number of similar light-weight strollers available in places like Bumps to Babes, Mothercare, Eugene Club and Toys R' Us, but they are more expensive here than anywhere else. Check out www.maclarenbaby.com/

2. In a similar vein, a good carrier is also a must. Public transport is not all that convenient when you're using a stroller so it's worth investing in a carrier of some kind. We have an Ergo, which J and my husband love, and it can be used until he weighs around 15kgs. I find it a bit hard on my back and prefer a Baby Bjorn style carrier but they're apparently not great for growing spines. Whatever you prefer, a carrier is an essential piece of equipment. www.ergobabycarrier.com/

3. Information: You need to know what to do, where to go, how to find whatever it is you need and who can help you, especially when you're new to HK. There are a few expat websites/forums out there and I have found them invaluable. AsiaXpat is great for buying and selling second-hand goods while GeoBaby is a great source of info on all things pregnancy and baby related. Check out: http://www.hongkong.asiaxpat.com or http://www.geobaby.com. My favourite website for HK specific parenting tips is (as I've mentioned before) Little Steps: www.littlestepshongkong.com/

4. A coffee machine is also a must if you like your caffeine and you're fussy about how it's delivered. There are some great places to get a decent coffee here but they are few and far between. Pacific Coffee shops are everywhere, and while I'd rate them higher than Starbucks, they're not for the true coffee connoisseur. I like Simply Life in IFC (although it does depend on who's working on the day), LGB (various locations), and Habitu (also a few of them around) for coffee out and about. Otherwise we rely on our Nespresso. I've just done some research on whether or not they use Fairtrade coffee and was pretty appalled by what I discovered. If you're interested in being an informed consumer let me know and I'll pass some info on. If you'd rather just drink a great cup of coffee at home every day you won't regret welcoming a coffee machine, Nespresso or otherwise, into your home: This is one appliance that won't end up in the back of the pantry gathering dust.

5. A Domestic Helper. I have mentioned some of the challenges associated with becoming an employer of a domestic helper in previous posts, but ours is really a member of our family for better or worse. She has made life here much easier given the lack of family around us. Being able to hire someone to look after the housework so I can get on with the job of looking after my son is one of the biggest perks of living in HK. 

6. A good quality, well-stocked nappy bag. We have one from gr8x that opens out to a change mat. (http://gr8x.net/) I find it a bit bulky and there isn't much room for carrying the things I need, like a purse, phone etc so I end up carrying two bags. But, it is great on flights and when you're out trying to use those cold, hard change tables in shopping centres. I also have a small bag that has everything in it for short trips. Things that I always carry with me in HK (apart from the usual nappies, wipes, food etc) are a jacket or muslin cloth to cover your little one indoors (HK air-conditioning can be very chilly even in the middle of summer), clips or cords that attach to dummies/soothers and toys so you don't have to keep picking them up off the floor, and antiseptic, no-rinse hand sanitiser. 

7. A great GP or access to a baby clinic. There are vast differences in the quality of healthcare in clinics across HK. Public clinics are generally free and can be fine, but the doctors, in my opinion, tend to overreact and overprescribe. We see a private GP here and most things are 100% covered by our health insurance (except vaccinations unfortunately). She has known J since birth and it is so reassuring knowing that she knows his complete medical history every time we see her. I had a terrifying experience at my one and only trip to a public clinic with J and won't risk it again. Baby clinics are also a great way to keep an eye on your little one's progress, talk to professionals, and meet other mums. A number of medical centres run them on a weekly basis and there's also a clinic, among many other things, at Annerley (http://www.annerley.com.hk/). 

8. Playgroups/playdates: To be honest I'm not sure what it's like for those living on HK island or Kowloon-side but here on Lantau there's really no such thing as taking the kids to the park. There's the beach (if you don't mind dead fish and buffalo poo) and a couple of small play areas, but the only way to allow your little ones to really let off steam is to take them to organised playgroups. I've already mentioned the playgroups we take J to but there are a few other specialised play centres in HK that are worth a mention. Two that have been recommended are Playtown in Pok Fu Lam (www.playtown.com.hk), and Roly Pollies in Causeway Bay (www.rolypollies.com.hk). There are also many others around that offer play time in English and Mandarin if you're keen to encourage bilingualism from a young age. I would love to hear from anyone who knows of other places, especially those closer to South Lantau.

And finally 9 and 10: Patience and a sense of humour. Most people here are polite and some can be really quite helpful. But there are others who will push past you, bumping the stroller to get through an open door before it closes. Some days I feel like people are being deliberately unhelpful and others I feel completely invisible. Accepting these things as part of life in a city that has 7 million people crammed into a relatively small area will help you avoid getting too stressed about it. I also find it helps to leave yourself plenty of time to do anything, especially when you're out with a little one. I'm a huge fan of going out on days when I don't actually need to do anything, when we can just wander around and watch the hustle and bustle, and truly appreciate this fairly unique and fascinating place. 

I'm No Dummy!

For the purposes of this post I'm going to refer to dummies, also known to some of you as soothers or pacifiers. A conversation with my helper this week got me thinking about our dependence on a very small but necessary piece of rubber, and whether or not it's time to wean ourselves off it. J only uses a dummy to go to sleep. I've been very careful about not giving it to him to suck away when he's not tired. In the early days we started using one because he liked to fall asleep during or immediately after a feed and I needed my nipples back. We use a natural rubber dummy that's all one piece, so there's nowhere for germs to hang out. It's also eco-friendly, orthodontic and virtually indestructible. It's quite odd looking and brown, and we get a lot of comments about it. I once left J with friends for a few hours and they had a good laugh about it. They had heard that babies prefer dummies that most resemble their mother's nipples and they imagined that I must have breasts like a big African Mama (could not be further from the truth in case you were wondering!).

We've tried other dummies but J refuses to use any other kind. This is a problem at times because the ones we use are not available everywhere. We have to buy them from our GP's office in Discovery Bay. We had a shortage a couple of months ago and we only had two in the house. One night I was on my own with J and he happened to lose both of them somewhere in his room. I was frantically rummaging through cupboards at 3am while he cried his heart out, trying desperately to find something I could stick in his mouth. In the end my finger was the only thing that soothed him and the next morning I found both dummies tucked up between the mattress and the mosquito net. I also made a trip to DB that day and stocked up. I now keep at least 2 spare in the bedroom.

I had a friend complain one day that her boys would lose them in the night and she'd have to get up to put them back in. I was glad that J wasn't that dependent on his and smiled smugly. Then we went to Australia and he woke every hour and cried until I got up and put the dummy back in. Serves me right, I hear you say. He's now very good at finding it in his cot and putting it back in himself, but I'm beginning to worry that he can't sleep without it.

I have noticed that not many of the local children use them, and I have a few friends who are very anti-dummy. We were advised not to use one until we had breastfeeding sorted out, to avoid "nipple confusion". Within a few days of being born J was on a combination of breast and bottle so I didn't think one more nipple would make any difference, and we didn't have a problem. I've not given it much thought since then, until now. Last week my helper was telling me her niece, who is about 3 weeks older than J, never needed one to sleep. She started talking about how J really likes his, and implied that maybe it was time to let it go. I got quite defensive and made the point that he only has it to sleep so it's not a problem. That was the end of the conversation but I haven't stopped thinking about it. I don't think my son is addicted to his dummy, I think I am. It's so easy to pop it in his mouth when he's a bit tired and cranky, and to be honest I have no idea how I'd go about getting him to sleep without one.

A few months ago while we were checking into a hotel, a family walked in with 3 children aged about 2, 4 and 6, and all 3 of them had dummies in their mouths. I was pretty shocked but I can see how easily it could happen. I'd like to to wean J off his before it becomes too hard but I haven't worked out how. My grandmother likes to tell the now infamous story of how I came to lose my dummy. She hates the things and was looking after me one day when I was about 2 years old. My dummy happened to fall out of my mouth and into the toilet. She very quickly flushed it away and told me the baby fish had it now. I'm told I was pretty satisfied with this response and didn't ask for a dummy again. Perhaps I need to wait until J is old enough to buy a story like that and then try. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the peaceful sleep it brings.

Working Nine to Five

Dear Readers, the frantic pace of 5 posts a week has caught up with me and I'm afraid I have to cut back to 3 posts a week (Monday, Wednesday and Friday). I promise if I have something exciting to say I will make an exception. Apart from a sick little boy (one new tooth and still an upset tummy, have not solved that one yet), I don't have a lot of time to blog this week as I am going to work tomorrow. Some of you might be surprised by this since I've been so adamant that I had no interest in going back. It came as a shock to me too but I found myself  saying "yes" despite my reservations.

I wasn't that committed to my teaching career before we came to Hong Kong so I wasn't concerned if my career took a back seat for a while. In our first year here I worked full-time as a teacher's aide for a child with special needs and I loved it. I worked with a dynamic and inspirational teacher and a great group of kids, and it motivated me to try teaching again. I had been out of the classroom for a while so I had to make do with supply (casual, on-call) teaching but it gave me the opportunity to do some travelling and start a family. And that's where I find myself today. I'm in a fantastic school and I really enjoyed it previously but there was always a niggling feeling in the back of mind that it really wasn't helping my career at all. The longer I don't have a classroom of my own, the harder it will be to find full-time work when I am ready to. I also miss having a purpose at work. I like making plans and seeing them through, getting to know a class and watching them grow through the year. When you're supply teaching it's anybody's guess where you'll end up. I've taught everything from P.E. to Music, and sometimes do all that and more in the one day. It does however get me off the island and gives me a chance to assume the role of Mrs C., where I'm known for being good at what I do, not for being J's mummy or D's wife. It's a nice feeling. I've missed the kids and the other staff, and being engaged and challenged in a different way.

The negatives of going back to work are obvious and numerous. I had actually committed to going back after Chinese New Year but when the time came I wasn't ready. Then I was due to work in March, the same week J's reflux hit its peak and there was no way I was leaving my little guy while he was so miserable. I didn't commit to any more days and eventually I decided August might be a good time to start again, with the commencement of the new school year. I gave it a lot of thought and decided that I should be grateful that I don't need to work; that I have the luxury of choice here. Steve Biddulph, in his book Raising Boys, discusses how important it is for boys to have at least one primary caregiver at home with them at all times. I was so keen for that person to be me. "I can do that!" I rejoiced. Then school rang and I found it very hard to say no. The money will help and it really isn't a huge commitment. I've decided to only work when D is home and I can do as little or as much as I like. I'm trying to justify it to myself because I woke up this morning with a knot in my stomach when I realised I have to get up at 6 tomorrow and go to work. Someone else will be greeting J when he wakes up and giving him his breakfast. I hate the thought that he may still be asleep when I leave. I know it's just a day but he changes so quickly and is simply delightful at the moment. We struggled for the first few months and then at 4 months he became so much more interactive and he was thrilled when we introduced food, I thought he was at the perfect age then. At 5 months he was sitting up, and watching the expression on his face as he viewed the world from a new perspective was priceless. At 6 months he was noticing other kids and starting to show affection for the first time. He was definitely perfect at 6 months. Then at 7 months he started saying "mama" and I thought my heart would burst. At 8 months he now waves hello and goodbye and his favourite game is peekaboo. And he can clap his hands and "sing" and clearly adores his mummy and daddy and his ya-ya. He chases the dog around the house and chatters away all day, he is constantly entertaining. This is definitely the perfect age! I don't want to miss a single minute...

I feel terribly ashamed when I complain about having to go to work and I've had to stop myself a few times from mentioning it around the house. Our helper has 3 children in the Philippines and she had not seen them in 2 years when she came to work for us. She has not spent Christmas at home in 8 years; the whole of her daughter's life. I cried when she told me this year would be the first time she had ever spent Christmas with her daughter! I just cannot imagine how hard that must be. She has no choice but to work in another country so her children have a chance at a better life. I really am very lucky, and I shouldn't complain, but tomorrow will be a very long day. As soon as that bell rings I will be out of that door pushing small children out of my way to get home to my beautiful boy. Have a great weekend everyone, see you Monday x

All By Myself

Twice a week our son goes to a playgroup at the local church hall. It’s very informal but they have toys and snacks and a big space for kids to run around in. Occasionally someone comes in and plays a guitar and they sing songs. J is the youngest child by several months but he is at an age where he needs an outing every day, and it’s an easy way to entertain him for a couple of hours. It feels like lazy parenting but he loves it so I don’t feel too bad about it. L goes with him and I get the impression that she relishes the opportunity to spend some time with him on her own. She has three children of her own in the Philippines and she misses them terribly so while she is with us she treats J as if he is one of hers. She always dresses him up and combs his hair (making me feel even lazier when I take him out with breakfast in his hair), and I know she gets a buzz when people comment on what a gorgeous baby he is. I know some mothers who occasionally go to the playgroup but it seems to be an opportunity for the helpers to get together and socialise as well. I left J and L there earlier in the week while I did some shopping and when I finished early I went to the church to check it out. There was a flurry of talk in Tagalog when I walked in and I felt slightly uncomfortable, as I was clearly the subject of the conversation. L assured me later that they were all saying that I was very beautiful and that my son is very lucky to have such attractive parents! I decided that regardless of whether or not that was true I would believe her and leave her to it in the future. Yesterday my brilliant husband suggested that we could take it in turns to drive J and L down to the church and wait for them, so that each of us would have a few hours at home by ourselves one day a week. This is clearly one of the best suggestions he has ever made and I wholeheartedly embraced the idea. Today it was my turn and it was fantastic! I listened to music, proper grown-up music, and I surprised myself by clearing a number of items off my to-do list. I even made the bed, put on some washing and had a shower. I was half way through a cup of tea and an episode of Samantha Who? when they all arrived home. It got me thinking about how I filled my days before J was born. I don’t remember ever being that productive in such a short space of time before I had a baby. Has being a parent made me more efficient? Or is it that I once had the luxury of taking my time? I’m honestly baffled by the thought. I only worked part-time while I was pregnant, some weeks I didn’t work at all. I must’ve watched A LOT of television. When J was a newborn we had a lot of trouble with breastfeeding and he would feed for 2 hours at a time sometimes. Time to myself was never an option. In those early days I would spend half an hour in the shower because it was the only time of the day when no one asked anything of me; no one dared! I relished those moments to myself, even if I had to wait until 4pm or later to get them. These days, even though the demands are different, I am still very busy and I sometimes find myself missing my freedom. There are days when I would like a cup of tea and a sit down, and at other times I find myself wishing I could drop everything and go to New York with my husband for a weekend on one of his work trips. I’d love to get dressed up and go out with the girls and dance all night. I’d like to have friends over for dinner and spend hours creating a fabulous meal instead of ordering a quick pizza. I miss being able to read a book in the middle of the day or make a last minute decision to see a movie. But the truth is I never did any of those things when I had all the time in the world so am I really missing anything? I have to remind myself that I was bored quite often and lonely at times. Now there’s never a dull moment and our house is filled with laughter and toys and cuddles. I appreciate every minute I have to myself because they’re so rare but more than anything I love every day that I spend with my son. The time I spend with him is so much finer than any time I ever spent on the sofa watching TV or reading magazines. It even beats a pedicure and a quiet glass of wine, although once in a while that would be nice too. Whatever you’re doing this weekend, enjoy! I’ll be back on Monday x

Help Me Help You

When we first moved to Hong Kong we never imagined that we would hire a domestic helper. It’s not all that common in Australia (at least amongst the people we know) to hire someone else to do your housework. It seemed an unnecessary luxury. However, after a year here, realising how easy and inexpensive it was to have someone come in once a week, and sick of arguing about whose turn it was to do the vacuuming, we relented. Hiring a full-time helper can be a lucky dip. I’ve heard many horror stories about helpers stealing from their employers or sleeping with their husbands. Sometimes personalities clash and it just doesn’t work out, but whatever happens it can be a time-consuming, expensive and emotional process. At the end of the day you're inviting a virtual stranger into your home and trusting them with the most precious people in your world.

Fortunately, we hit the jackpot with our helper, L. She started off part-time but when we found out I was pregnant we convinced ourselves that we had to have someone full-time once the baby arrived, knowing that without family anywhere nearby we would struggle. I have a lot of respect for mothers who manage without a helper and appreciate how hard it must be; especially for those living here away from the support of family and friends. I have friends back in Australia who are quite envious of our position and, while I struggle to justify it sometimes, I know how lucky we are. We were fortunate enough to be able to employ L full-time when her contract finished, and she started with us 8 weeks before our son arrived. I had a list a mile long of things for her to do to get the house ready for the baby, expecting it to take her several weeks. She finished most of it in two days. She’s efficient and intelligent and always happy. She follows my instructions to the letter (to the point where she pulls me up if I veer from the schedule at all) and most importantly, she adores my son; she has become a member of our family. It wasn’t always a perfect relationship and having someone else in my home all day every day was a big challenge. There was a time when I contemplated asking her to leave, simply because I wanted my space back and to have my baby to myself. Then when J was 9 weeks old I got sick and my husband had to go away. L moved in for 4 days and got up to do the night feeds, walked the dog and kept the house clean without complaint or hesitation, while I slept and got better. I realised how necessary she had become to our ability to function as a family.

We still have occasional misunderstandings, mainly due to the language barrier and my inability to express myself clearly, but it is a much more harmonious home these days. Something I have struggled with lately is a little bit of jealousy over the relationship between our helper and our son. He is so excited every day when she arrives and often complains when she leaves the room. She has a way of getting him to eat his vegetables when I constantly fail, and she manages to entertain him AND keep the house clean and tidy. One day last week I was feeding him when L arrived for the day and J just about jumped out of my arms. I was heartbroken and moaned to my husband, “I never get that response.” D told me I should be grateful that we have someone who J loves so much. When I thought about it rationally I had to admit that D was right; it would be much harder to leave him with someone he didn’t really care for. Still battling my green-eyed monster I was secretly overjoyed yesterday when the tables were turned. J and I had spent the whole day together and I handed to him to L when we got home and headed upstairs. I rushed back down excitedly when J started to wail and I found him holding his little arms out for his mummy. I felt terribly guilty that I was so thrilled that my son was upset by my absence, but secretly I also felt validated. I remember in the first few weeks of his life, when we were up for hours every night feeding and attempting to soothe our colicky baby, there were times when I wondered if he was happy. He hadn’t smiled and barely registered my presence; I was basically a walking milk bar. I so longed for some response: a sign that we were doing the right thing and that this little guy knew we were his parents. We were overjoyed when he started smiling and I felt for the first time that it had all been worth it.

I guess, without realising it, I have still been basing my success as a parent on J’s response to me. I don’t expect thanks for the hours I spend cooking and pureeing food, for getting up in the middle of the night, for changing pooey nappies, I do it all out of love, but a cuddle and a smile from him says, “You’re appreciated.” When someone else is getting the smiles and cuddles I feel a bit deflated, is that wrong? I have no doubt that this is something I will grapple with for a while, but in the meantime someone else is cleaning my toilet, so I won’t complain too loudly.