The Lost Posts

As regular readers will have noticed, A Mummy in a Strange Land has had an overhaul recently. I'm still not 100% content with the new look but, as that seems to be the story of my life, it's somehow appropriate. The overhaul has extended to all the "behind-the-scenes" bits of the blog as well, and I've tidied up my drafts folder a little. I've found a lot of posts that I've started and have never finished, for one reason or another. Some of them needed tweaking a little, some were a bit too short to be a complete post on their own, while others were about a specific moment in time and the moment passed before I had a chance to get them out there. I put a lot of thought and time into everything I write and it seems a waste just to delete the drafts that never made it to the publishing stage, so I'm dedicating this week to the posts that missed their day in the sun. For each one I'm going to include the date that they were originally written and links to the posts around them, so you can put them into context if you have far too much time on your hands this week. First up is this one, from the 18th of December:

The Kindness (or not) of Strangers


Firstly, I have to refer to my last post The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. Our missing bag was found, left behind by baggage handlers in Sydney for reasons unknown. I was so relieved to have it all back that I didn't ask questions. I felt guilty for assuming the worst but my husband assures me that bags do get stolen all the time, especially at this time of year, especially in Sydney.

It's also not uncommon for people to assume the worst in big cities. One of the things we both noticed about Sydney was how angry people were. It feels as if the whole city is simmering away quietly and at any moment anyone could snap. People aren't helpful generally and they don't smile at each other in the street. This came as a shock to me when I first moved there as I grew up in a town where everyone smiled at each other or said hello. In the city, if you do show any signs of friendliness it's instantly assumed that you are a loon and to be avoided at all costs. There were quite a few times where I was struggling with the stroller and trying to open a door and no one offered to help. One man went so far as to pretend he was on the phone and shot through the door behind me. Others avoided my eye and chose to linger behind until someone else helped or I managed to get the door open on my own. I wondered if these people were afraid to help in case I took it as a sign that I could engage with them on some level, or if they were worried I'd get upset if they tried to help, perhaps I might snap "I can do it myself!" Whatever the cause, it bothered me and made me realise how helpful and friendly people are here in HK in comparison.

We spent one afternoon at Coogee beach, catching up with friends over fish and chips. It was a gorgeous summer afternoon and we were enjoying ourselves immensely until I was hit across the back of the head by a drunken idiot stumbling around. We were all instantly on the defensive ready for a fight, too quick to adopt the local mentality. We brushed the guy off but noticed several police officers wandering around and the riot squad vehicles parked outside the local pub; all prepared for an evening of violence and people generally making a nuisance of themselves. I don't remember it being that bad when I first moved there 10 years ago and I had to ask myself why people were so aggressive and angry. It is such a beautiful place and Australians are so very lucky, so why isn't anyone happy? Our friends were complaining that many of their friends with kids had moved away, either to the outer suburbs or out of Sydney altogether. They attributed exorbitant property prices and the high cost of living to this exodus, with many others wanting to be closer to family. I wondered if people in the city are so on edge because it's a city of migrants? So many people move to Sydney from overseas or from smaller towns to study, to work or to play, leaving behind loved ones and support networks. I've mentioned in previous posts (Like this one) how difficult it was for me to make friends there and I think this is true for so many others.

I mentioned in my post Now You're One that J and I were sick in Sydney while we were on our own. We had D's parents helping us out but it was still very tough. I can't imagine living there, without the friends or help that I have here, and having to do it all on my own. I'd be pretty angry and on edge too and I think it'd be too easy to take it all for granted and forget how great a country it is. Being ripped off at the supermarket every day and having no one open doors for you would certainly wear anyone down after a while.

Despite all that I did have a lovely time, and it was very, very hard for me to leave. We left Sydney after a week and went to see my family in a little town called Cooma. There has been drought-breaking rain this summer and the landscape was green and gorgeous, the rivers were overflowing and the grass was waist high. It reminded me of my childhood when it was always like that. It was one of the best visits home I've had in years. I stayed with my Nanna and she showed me old photos and filled me in on the family tree. My parents spoiled us rotten and loaded us up with so many Christmas presents I had to take an extra bag. The sky was so so blue and the air was fresh, it made me homesick in a way I never thought possible. I miss being able to look out in any direction and see nothing but land and sky, I miss the horizon! I could so easily have rented a house for the summer and stayed put for a few months, but I took the advice of a good friend who grew up in the same town. He always says; it's better to leave when you feel like you could stay, rather than wait until you feel like you've stayed too long.

So we trekked back to Sydney with far too many bags in tow, and I had a minor panic attack at the airport when I realised that arriving in Sydney felt like coming home. Everywhere I went it was easy and familiar. Even negotiating the ridiculous traffic didn't bother me. In the end I found some really helpful and friendly people, all too willing to lend me a hand with my bags or the baby and restore my faith in the kindness of strangers. We spent 24 hours in glorious Bondi and caught up with a few people before I had to accept that it was time to leave. If it wasn't for the texts from my husband pleading with me to get on the plane, and the fact that we were flying back to Hong Kong in business class, I might still be there.

Modern Dilemmas

Lately I've been faced with a bit of a dilemma; whether or not to go away with my husband, sans bebe. I think it says a lot about how lucky we are, if this is the biggest thing we have to worry about, so I'm grateful for that. I don't expect any sympathy for the fact that I have to decide whether or not I can face a trip to Milan (oh, poor me!) but I'm sure that most parents, at some point, need to get away and can at least relate to that aspect of my problem. I know if we still lived in Sydney and had a somewhat normal life we'd probably have left J with his grandparents months ago and headed off to the coast for a weekend. The fact that we're talking about an international business class trip might make me sound spoiled, but it doesn't make it any easier.

Before we were Mama and Dada we did a bit of travelling together and I went on two of D's work trips. Back then he was mostly flying to North America and the Middle East so I tagged along to New York and L.A. and we had an awesome, but brief, time. At the time I was working, and spending 32 hours on a plane for a 48 hour layover required more stamina than I could muster most weeks, so I didn't go away as often as I could have. As soon as J was born and I was grounded, D started flying to places like London, Milan and San Francisco, and he's had some incredible travel experiences without me, much to my dismay. As he's due to do his upgrade in a couple of months these trips will soon become a thing of the past, and I'll be a little less envious when he's flying to Taipei and back in a day. For a while now we've been talking about taking advantage of the great rosters and the option of me going to work with him once again, since Hong Kong's proximity to the rest of the world is one of the main reasons why we moved here in the first place. This month D was given a Milan trip with 2 whole days there. We talked about a side trip to Venice, and when we realised that it was a few days before our anniversary, it seemed like it was meant to be. Then we calculated that we'd be away from J for 4 nights, 3 days, and it seemed like an awfully long time to be on the other side of the world. We talked about taking him with us but the thought of a 12 hour flight with a 15 month old and an 8 hour time difference ruled that out pretty quickly. Putting him through that just because we couldn't be away from him seemed more selfish than going without him. We tried to justify it to ourselves in so many ways. It'd be good for us, he'd be fine, we'd make sure everyone in the neighbourhood knew we were away and ask them to check in. We talked to other parents about it and it seemed that everyone felt pretty strongly one way or the other, there were very few sitting on the fence with us. There were those who were quite happy to take off for a few days and leave the kids with the helper, and they wondered why we were even talking about it, "book now," they cried. Others hated leaving their kids for even a day, and wouldn't dream of going so far away without them. Their faces would twist into an agonised grimace as they said, "oh, no! I couldn't do that!" and looked at me like I was clearly a terrible mother for even thinking about it. People with more than one child were more likely to support the idea, and the older the kids are the easier it is to leave them apparently.

I was torn, and then D announced that if we were going to go we'd need to organise our wills and make sure we had decided who would take custody of J if anything happened to us. Suddenly our little trip to Venice took on a whole new light - I pictured the infinite number of ways we could come to grief (those gondolas are floating death traps!), and it suddenly seemed less appealing. So in the end D left last night, without me. He still plans to go to Venice and even though he was trying to appear disappointed, he was buzzing with barely contained excitement as he packed his bag. As it turns out, it wasn't meant to be; I have tonsillitis and wouldn't have been able to go anyway. Surely it's better that I chose not to go rather than being forced not to at the last minute? I would've been bitterly disappointed if I'd gone through all that angst, decided to go and then had to can the whole thing.

I know a certain friend was hoping I'd jump in and take the trip to Milan so that he could use it to encourage his wife to do the same. What I think would be a better solution would be for us girls to go away together and leave the dads in charge (sorry, S!). I wouldn't need any convincing for that kind of holiday; I'd be perfectly happy on the other side of the world if I knew J was with one of his parents. You see, this whole debate has got me thinking about the kinds of travel I really want to do, because these days it's a pretty big investment. I've realised I'm less keen for global adventure, and more interested in some quiet time somewhere else. Top of my list is obviously a family holiday, just the three of us. A parents-only break would be a nice treat if we could tear ourselves away. But deep down I'd really love to go away by myself. Just for a weekend, a few days, to get some sun, sleep, eat a meal without being interrupted and lie idle by a pool. Sounds fab doesn't it? And a lot easier to commit to.

For now we've decided on a trial baby-free getaway, somewhere close by instead, and next week for our anniversary we're off to Macau. We'll be gone for a night and the ferry trip is only an hour. So we could be back in a heartbeat if we needed to be. I have to admit, I'm ridiculously excited about it already, and if it all goes well and we cope without our little man for 24 hours, we'll see what the roster holds in May.

In other news, I've put my time lying sick in bed to good use, and I've given the blog a facelift. I hope you like it.

This Week We've Been...

I am terribly late with this week's post and I have no one to blame but myself. I could've written about a million different things but once again I'm going to cheat and give you a summary of everything that's happened in my little world since you saw me last. This week we've been:

Recovering after the 7's: A full three days of Rugby Sevens is a massive effort for anyone, and we had to do it just once while we're living here. The Friday is a short day just to whet your appetite. The Saturday is the biggest day and it's obligatory to dress up and drink all day in the south stand of the stadium. I decided to forgo the drinking (as my body is a temple these days) but I did dress up. I was not so keen when I learned that this year our group would be going as Playboy bunnies in honour of the Year of the Rabbit but I went with it...

I left early; there's only so much debauchery a sober girl can cope with, and regretted leaving my coat behind as the further I got from the stadium the less I looked like a rugby-goer, and the more people started to look at me like I'd just finished work in a bar in Wan Chai... I came home covered in beer and with no idea who played or what the day's results were, but it was a lot of fun. On Sunday we mustered the energy to go back and actually watch some rugby. We were more appropriately dressed for the 10 degree day and sat in the family stand with coffees and meat pies, and we paid attention to what was happening on the field. The highlight of the day was seeing the entire crowd on their feet cheering as Japan beat the USA in one of the semi-finals. I'm glad I can now say I've been to the 7's but think I'll be a Sunday supporter in future years.

Feeling better then feeling worse: I'm not sure if it's the placebo effect or the fact that I've generally been taking better care of myself but until Thursday I felt great. I had more energy, less numbness and a definite sense that something was going right. Then I went to work and spent an entire day running around town, forgot to take my potions and have been feeling like crap ever since. I'm pinning all my hopes (pun intended) on this Chinese medicine and acupuncture business but after this week's session had no positive results I'm starting to have my doubts. I felt ok yesterday and went to my first yoga class. It was a great workout but it left me aching and shaking all over, not what I was hoping for.

Battling a toddler who refuses to eat: My mantra this week is "it will pass" and I've been taking a lot of deep breaths and counting to ten. J has been on a hunger strike and refusing to eat his dinner. I've tried all sorts of things like giving him lunch early and no snacks in the afternoon, less milk and more finger food at dinner, but none of it has convinced him to eat. I don't know if it's a toddler power struggle or if he's just not hungry, but my husband put a stop to our battle the other night and skipped dinner altogether. I was beside myself, feeling like the worst mother in the world for letting my son go to bed without dinner, but apart from waking up really hungry, he didn't seem any worse off for it. 

Sleeping: The planets must have been aligned this week because all of a sudden J started sleeping through. Really sleeping through, like going to bed at 7pm and waking around 6.30, with no crying out or fussing during the night. The last few nights he's woken once or twice but several consecutive nights of uninterrupted sleep has been amazing! 

Celebrating Spring: The last few months have been cold and miserable and I've hated it. There have been tantalising glimpses of finer weather but the greyness has always returned. The leaves have returned to the trees, the flowers are in bloom, the birds are waking us up ridiculously early, we've had three days of warm temperatures, and the sky is blue, so I'm thinking it's time to declare that it is finally spring. I'll be complaining in a few weeks that it's too hot but for now I'm enjoying this fabulous season by...

Creating our own little piece of paradise: I grew up in the country and I like my wide open spaces. Hong Kong isn't exactly renowned for that so we live in the most rural part of it. We don't have a backyard though, and the closest thing to outdoor space we have is our rooftop. Until now this has been an ugly disused space but we recently got stuck in and created something a little more inviting. The BBQ has had it's first run for the season and the vegies should be ready to harvest in a couple of months. For now the roof is just an awesome place to chill out with my boys and enjoy our pretty special view. There is something so soul-soothing about getting your hands dirty and working with plants. I have always wanted a proper vegie garden, I just never imagined I'd be attempting it on a rooftop. I can't wait to see what grows. 

 

Working: I know, it's a shock right? I got a call from the school I was working in (before I decided staying at home was much more fun) and they asked me to invigilate an exam. It was a half day, no classroom work, and I had no valid reason to say no. I was shattered by the end of the day but it was nice to be doing something else. Unfortunately I'm not going to have a choice pretty soon and will need to do a fair bit of work as we are...

Renovating the kitchen: It's been a long time coming and the current kitchen has been the subject of many complaints on my part. We could've made do for a while longer but the sink needed to be repaired recently and my husband decided to do it himself. The tap has leaked since we moved in and D told me that to fix it he'd need to take the sink out. Taking the sink out involved lifting the countertop and when he did that he found that the whole cabinet was rotten and mouldy. This is what I came home to the day my handyman was "fixing the tap"...

  

So we now have a temporary bench from IKEA, and an urgent need to re-do the whole kitchen. After arguing about what we wanted we decided that it's not worth arguing over, and D left me in charge of kitchen design. We went to Wan Chai this week and got a quote and were surprised by how easy it was to choose what we wanted. Now we just need to finance it...

It's been a busy week, and another one of those weeks where I wonder aloud on Friday afternoon where it all went. There have also been playdates and trips into town and walks with the dog, and a million other little things that make life sweet.

So there you have it. A lazy post but a post nonetheless. Have a great week everyone.

Pins and Needles

First I have to apologise for being quite slack in the blogging department lately, but once you read this post, you'll hopefully understand why.

I've mentioned on and off that I haven't been feeling great since J was born. Lack of sleep has had a lot to do with it, but I've also had some weird symptoms that have been getting progressively worse, and causing me a great deal of stress. I haven't really talked about this stuff with many people, so I'm sorry to those of you who are going to be thinking "I had no idea, why didn't you tell me?" It started out as numbness in my feet and pain in my hands while I was pregnant. My GP put it down to the fact that I had suddenly evolved into a camel and was retaining enough water to last me several months in the desert. She told me it would probably go away when I got back to my normal weight. Only, it didn't... It got worse, and pretty soon I was numb and tingling down the whole left side of my body. And pretty freaked out as you can imagine. I went to see a neurologist who put me through MRI's, blood tests and a whole lot of nerve tests, while I left my then 8-week-old baby at home and thought the worst. The more I worried about it, the worse the symptoms became, and by the end of the week I was a wreck! But the test results were all normal, and the doc put it all down to stress. Hearing that was enough to put me at ease and I was so relieved that I instantly felt much better.

But the symptoms didn't go away completely and after our trip to Bali in January I felt pretty lousy again. I figured if I felt so bad after the most relaxing week I'd had all year, how could it possibly be stress-related? My GP, who clearly thinks I'm a huge hypochondriac by now, sent me to another neurologist. He read the first doctor's report, and without doing any tests of his own or examining me in any way, prescribed what he called a "nerve relaxant." Now, when you get medication here, 9 times out of 10, it comes in a plastic bag, without any information, warnings, or ingredient lists. So I googled this particular medication, wanting to know what I was taking, and it turned out to be an antidepressant/antipsychotic combination... Frequent side effects (according to Dr Wikipedia) were things like drowsiness, nausea, dizziness, anxiety...! There are so many things wrong with that scenario that I don't know where to start. The fact that I was given something so potent (and inappropriate) and expected to take it without question, is so typical of the medical profession here, and quite concerning. I was also disappointed that I was given something that would cause such extreme side-effects, without warning, and despite the doctor knowing that I was responsible for a small child.  You'll be pleased to know I didn't take it, and I haven't been back to that doctor since. I also checked with a doctor in Aus, and he agreed that it wasn't something I should have been prescribed.

Unfortunately I was still left with these bizarre, uncomfortable symptoms, and no explanation or fix for them. I went back to my GP yet again and she basically told me that since they'd ruled out everything serious, I'd just have to live with it. At 32, with hopefully years ahead of me, that wasn't the response I was looking for. For the last couple of weeks I've been feeling completely wiped out, cold, numb, aching and quietly very worried. I'm ashamed to admit that the other night I was so worked up about it all that I had a panic attack. That, of course, made me feel even worse and it has been a battle ever since to keep myself calm. I just keep thinking about how I might feel in 10, 20 or 30 years, if I feel like this now. And if one pregnancy did this to my body, what will another one do? It could just be stress, and that would be great, oddly enough, but there's always that niggling voice in the back of my mind saying "what if it's not and they've missed something?"

I decided I had to be proactive, and not just accept that this is how I'm going to feel for the rest of my life. So I did what anyone living in HK who's been let down by Western medicine would do, I turned herbal. I had my first ever acupuncture treatment yesterday and I came home with a bag full of potions and supplements. I spent over half an hour just talking about my symptoms, with a lovely woman who seemed genuinely interested in my health. Then I got to lie on a bed in a warm room for another half an hour while she inserted the needles and let them do their work. I didn't feel instantly better afterwards, I didn't expect to, but I did feel incredibly relaxed and balanced. The first thing I noticed when I got down off the bed was that I could feel the carpet under my feet, a foreign sensation after all this time with numb feet. And I still feel quite serene and light. The Chinese medicinal potion I have to drink twice a day is foul, but I'll persist with it, and I can't wait to go back next week for my next acupuncture treatment. Who knows whether or not any of it is necessary, or if it will help, but I feel better knowing that I'm at least trying to help myself.

We experienced the same degree of frustration with the medical profession here when we were trying to find someone to fix J's crooked head (see Head Case) but we were lucky enough to eventually find, after much disappointment, someone who took our concerns seriously and who has helped more than we expected. The culture here seems to be to blindly trust and do what your doctors tell you to do. If I had done that I would've ended up taking something normally reserved for manic depressives and schizophrenics, and who knows how it would have affected me and my ability to look after my son. I'm not a firm believer in traditional Chinese medicine yet, but it has been around for so long that I figure it's worth a try. I'm also going to start a regular yoga class and treat myself to a foot massage once a week. I'm tired of feeling like my body is staging its own Jasmine Revolution, and I'm hoping that if I take better care of it I won't be forced into exile anytime soon. I will keep you all posted.

On another note, I want to say how truly sad I am to see the devastation in Japan, and to appeal for help. Hong Kong based readers please check out this site Hk Mama With Love, and donate if you can. They are a local group of mums collecting baby gear, food and clothes and sending it over to Japan. I saw on the news this morning that it has started snowing in the areas hardest hit by the tsunami, and with hundreds of thousands of people living in shelters, in freezing conditions, they need all the aid they can get. The Red Cross will take financial donations too. Have a good weekend everyone.

Forward Thinking

I've hit the books once again. I know I swore off reading any more how-to-parent books but that was before I found myself surrogate mummy to a two year old. I decided that dealing with such an important (and challenging) period in a child's life is not something I want to learn about on the job, I need to be forewarned and as prepared as I can be, even if it frightens the living daylights out of me. So I turned to my good friend Robin Barker once again, as she guided me through every aspect of J's first year so brilliantly (with the exception of teething, as she is so totally wrong about that!).

Robin talks a lot about outcomes-based parenting, and what she says, with more than a hint of disdain, has really got me thinking. So many of us are focused on doing things a certain way now because we want to ensure a good outcome in the future. Or we want to avoid certain scenarios later on. There's nothing wrong with that, according to Robin, but at times we bend ourselves over backwards trying to achieve something when it really would be easier to just think about what we all need right now. I've been hellbent on getting J to eat a variety of really healthy, tasty foods, and I struggle when all he wants is toast and bananas. I thought I was instilling good eating habits, for the future, when in reality, he'll probably end up spending a good portion of his early adulthood eating cold pizza and beer. I haven't really considered whether or not he actually wants to eat vegetables at the time that I'm sitting down to force-feed them to him. I also get really frustrated when he doesn't eat very much, and I want him to finish his meal, mostly because I don't want him to be hungry later, but also because I was always made to finish everything on my plate when I was a kid. It had nothing to do with whether or not I was actually hungry anymore, and I can't believe I'm doing the same thing to my son, without even questioning why.

Sleep is another of those areas where we want good outcomes, because it's so crucial for everyone's sanity. But the way in which we achieve that is different for everyone. My niece has slept with her parents since she was seven months old, and most nights goes to bed when they do. I've insisted that J goes to bed every night at 7.30 and sleeps alone. Both very different methods but each has its own merits and works for those involved. I was worried that if we let him sleep in our bed there'd come a time when we'd want him out of there and that would be fairly traumatic for all of us. But I think the truth is that most kids who do sleep with their parents (as standard practice rather than as an emergency, out of sheer desperation, arrangement) just accept that it's time to move on at some point. A lot of Asian families all sleep in the same bed, or the same room at least, and it's very European for the kids to stay up as late as the adults. I'm willing to bet that anyone who practices either or both of these sleep habits doesn't think twice about what it might mean in the future. Now we're at a point where J can't sleep in our bed. He gets very excited and wants to play, even if it's 3am. Sometimes in emergencies, out of sheer desperation, I have brought him into our bed, and after playing with my eyelashes and sticking his finger up my nose for twenty minutes, he usually ends up falling asleep as soon as I return him to his cot.

School is another aspect of our children's lives that we agonise and torture ourselves over, because we worry about the outcome. I blame the fact that schools now have waiting lists a mile long, and there's intense pressure to choose a good high school and send off your application as the obstetrician is cutting the cord; even then it's too late sometimes. Here in HK there are so many different options for schooling that a number of parents I know have lost sleep over where to send their children for Kindergarten. You have to consider not only the curriculum, teaching styles, class sizes etc, but things like whether or not they offer Mandarin, which primary schools they feed to, if they offer a bus service and how long the daily commute will be. Last week I also learned that some of the local schools may not even have a Kindy class some years if they don't have enough kids enrolled - just one more thing to plan for. The scary thing is that these decisions have to be made for two-year-olds! Imagine what it's like when they get to high school! J's only 15 months old and we're already talking about it at length, worrying that the wrong decision at this stage will have a great impact on his academic future. When I take a step back and really think about it, I've realised we really can't go wrong when it comes to choosing a kindergarten. I don't want to diminish any of the agony our friends have been through in making this decision; those early years of school are important, but they're mostly about having fun, making new friends, and getting into the habit of going to school and being away from Mummy and Daddy for a few hours every day. If we pick the "wrong" kindy or J doesn't get into a good primary school, we'll move, or we'll do better next time. It's not like a bad kindergarten is going to set him up for a lifetime of failure. What's important is that we are involved and caring parents, and when I get some more sleep that's exactly what I'll be. I hope one day, J will get into a good high school and be a great student, but I'm resolving to worry about that later.

I'll admit that I have been an outcomes-obsessed parent until now, and it's a tough habit to break. Every day we do things with the future in mind. From buying a shoebox in the backwaters of Hong Kong so one day we can afford our dream home in Aus, to bringing in the washing because it might rain later, we think about the future, short-term and long, all the time, sometimes without a good reason for it. I know it's important, when you have kids, to plan ahead and consider the consequences of your actions and parenting decisions, but sometimes I think I'm making mistakes and missing out on what's happening now. And it changes so, so quickly. I'm going to start trying to focus more on the day-to-day stuff and what's right for J, and us, right now - with a little bit of consideration for further down the track. I'm going to start with dinner tonight: Vegemite on toast all round!

A Word About Sleep

Today, if I can muster the energy, I want to talk about sleep. I'm so sleep deprived and delirious at the moment that it's the number one thing on my mind. Sleep, and lack of it, seems to be the biggest preoccupation of most parents. I've written about it a few times (see here), usually when I've been desperately tired, but always with the hope that one day soon, things would get better. Now I'm starting to think that I'm going to have to wait several years before I get enough consecutive nights of sleep to feel remotely human again. After 15 months I'm worn out, strung out and feeling at least 10 years older than I am.

Before J was born I had read somewhere that almost immediately after birth, most babies fall into a deep, sound sleep for several hours. I went into labour late at night, about 10 minutes after getting into bed after a long day. I was awake for almost 24 hours when J finally arrived so I was looking forward to this extended nap. It didn't happen and if anything, he seemed energised by the whole experience, and didn't sleep properly for several weeks. Sleep, and how to get more of it, became an obsession for me. There are so many books on the subject and everyone seems to have a different opinion; from hardcore teach-to-sleep from day one to attachment/baby lead, "no routine is the best routine" regimes, I researched it all. I read dozens of books and spoke to everyone we knew who had kids that seemed to sleep well, but most of the techniques just didn't fit. J had colic and reflux and would go from being sleepy to overtired and unable to sleep in a heartbeat. He hated being put down, and only ever napped in our arms. I knew we had to do something but struggled to find a way to make it work for all of us, and sometimes under exceptional circumstances I found myself doing things I never thought I would. I've never been comfortable with the idea of controlled crying, but there were nights when I was beside myself with fatigue and nothing could soothe my little man, that I had to leave him in the cot and spend 5 minutes outside.

In trying to establish a routine that worked for all of us we made some mistakes and battled a baby who simply didn't want to rest when we wanted him to. Teaching him to go to bed at the same time every night and put himself to sleep, in the gentlest way possible, when he was six months old made a world of difference, but it certainly wasn't the end to our problems. The biggest lesson we've learned over the last 15 months is that every time we thought we had it figured it out, it was always very short-lived, and things would inevitably change again. We'd have a few good nights and then he'd get sick, or start teething, or wet the bed; there was always something.

When J cut back to one nap a day and was for the most part "sleeping through" we really did think we had it figured out once and for all. This week proved just how very wrong we were. Lately we've had enough decent nights of sleep to realise what a difference they can make to our general wellbeing. On the other hand we've also become quite attached to staying in bed all night, and reverting back to bad nights has come as a bit of a shock. After 4 or 5 wake up calls on Friday night, which ended at 6am with J and I in the cot together, we were hoping for a better night on Saturday night. It wasn't to be... He howled every time I left the room and fought sleep for about an hour. At 8pm I gave up and came downstairs, leaving him shouting in protest. That lasted about 15 minutes and after he finally passed out exhausted, so did I. The rest of the night followed a similar pattern to the night before, except Sunday started at 5am and he didn't go back to sleep. When I dragged myself out of bed for the seventeenth time I thought to myself how much it felt like the days when we had a newborn, only now I don't have hormones pushing me through each day, and somehow staying in my pyjamas till 4pm and napping in the middle of the day feels less appropriate than it did 15 months ago.

We had a couple of good nights earlier in the week but daytime naps were then the issue. He either refused to go down without a fight or only slept for a short time. I was worried, and still am a little, that this was going to be the end of naps during the day. Thankfully, by exhausting him in the mornings, I got the naps back to normal but the last two nights he's had me up half a dozen times! I have a mental checklist I go through each time he gets up: dummy, nappy, temperature, position in the bed; and if all of those are fine, I leave him to it. But I still have to get up and check far too often every night! I can't wait for D to get back on Tuesday and take over for a night or two.

On the upside, when he is awake during the day, J is a lot of fun to be around. And the poor sleep hasn't affected his sense of humour or sweetness, as much as it's affected mine. I think a combination of four new teeth and separation anxiety are the culprits behind the disrupted sleep this week, but if this carries on much longer I may need to resort to drugging one or both of us to restore some form of sanity to the household...

You Know What Really Drives Me Mad...

I started this post ages ago but felt like I should be spreading the love, not using the blog as a forum for venting my frustrations. BUT, having been introduced to a new concept through the world of blogging, Listography, and seeing a bunch of others out there doing just that, I thought I'd finish it and post it. So here goes...

I try to be polite and diplomatic when I'm posting but lately I've been feeling the strain of holding back. I need to get a few things off my chest. The following list is in no particular order and does not refer to specific genders or nationalities, but you may notice some of the items are unique to Hong Kong (not always sins committed by locals however...). My top 5 pet hates are:

1. People who smoke in places where people are eating (especially when there are children around). I don't care if it's legal in many countries, it's quite simply bad manners! I hate smoking in general (filthy habit) but breathing in cigarette smoke while I'm eating makes me really cross. When we were in Bali recently a couple sat a few tables away from us chain-smoking during lunch and I wanted to go over and ask them politely to refrain (i.e. punch both of them). One of the girls had a leopard-print tattoo all the way up her arm, and looked a little scary, so I sulked in silence, from a safe distance. Why anyone would smoke at all is beyond me, but if you must do it, have the decency to ostracise yourself and do it far away from me.

2. Bad manners. On this sub-list I include things like: not saying please, thank you, excuse me, beg your pardon etc; not giving up your seat for an elderly/infirm/pregnant lady anywhere in public (high school students plugged into PSP's at the MTR station, this means you!); people who push past you to get onto the MTR, ignoring the instruction to "please let passengers exit first."; and people who pretend not to notice you as you struggle to open a door and push a stroller through it while juggling shopping bags. Public displays of bodily functions (snorting, spitting, throat clearing, nail-clipping, nose hair plucking, wiping the sweat from your forehead onto the seat in front of you on the ferry) are not cool under any circumstances. Save them for home, not the daily commute.

3. The current "fashion" trend of wearing big black plastic spec frames without any lenses in them. As someone who has worn glasses, real ones, for nearly 20 years I find it offensive. And I think it looks absolutely ridiculous! It drives me so crazy I just want to walk up to these people and poke them in the eyes.

4. Domestic blindness. Yes, I am referring to the man who claims to hate clutter but seems strangely oblivious to the clean clothes on the bed/toys on the floor/cereal box still on the kitchen counter at midday/pile of bills with his name on them gathering dust on the dining table etcetera, etcetera. If you need to step over something to get where you're going you should probably pick it up and put it away, darling.

5. Unsolicited opinions/criticisms/helpful suggestions about my parenting. I take my job as a mummy very seriously and I criticise myself more than enough. Anyone making the slightest suggestion that I should perhaps do something differently, unless I've asked for advice, is going to be permanently struck from my Christmas card list (or run down the next time I'm out and about in the VW and see them crossing the street - no I haven't given it much thought at all!). This goes for friends, family members, neighbours I run into on the street and little old ladies on the ferry; I know when J is tired, hungry, cold, impatient, ready to be toilet trained/weaned from his dummy/taught to use a spoon, and do not need to be told. Chances are if I'm not doing something I "should" be it's because I'm comfortable with the way things are, and don't have the time or the patience to clean spaghetti off the walls every night. I take particular issue with others who are openly critical about the parenting choices of others, when their own kids are far from perfect... unlike mine. If you want to be helpful, tell me how adorable my son is and how much he looks like me.

I know I said there were only going to be 5 things on my list but I have to add a few extras; when people forget that they've met me several times before and reintroduce themselves; when people I know well misspell my name (Dad...); junk mail; jackhammers; spending a fortune on a haircut and hating it; leaf blowers (seriously, what's wrong with a rake?); selfish drivers who take up two car parking spots; when I have lipstick and/or food in my teeth, or panda eyes, a button or zip undone, and no one tells me; people who've lived in HK for several years and have made no effort to learn the language or engage in the local culture in any way but feel they have the right to complain about the place; and finally, I hate the fact that it was so easy to come up with a list of things I hate. I may not be spreading much love with this one, but I feel so much better now! Feel free to send me your own lists x