Some Women regret Motherhood and I can see why. So much of it is tangled up in our identity whether we like it or not. I'll explain what I mean.
Yes, she made me a Mother, the instant shift which occurs with a child’s birth, but that’s not what I’m talking about. When ‘Mother’ landed on-top of my identity totem pole (wife, mother, sister, friend, employee) I crumbled and splintered under the weight of it.
Then, the scramble began.
When something breaks it’s time to evaluate. To remove the rubbish and rebuild with only functional pieces. The process is uncomfortable at best and downright painful at the worst. For me, depression settled among the sawdust.
No one talks about how Motherhood dredges up any painful childhood memories you might have been band-aiding for decades. In order to fix that stuff permanently you need to revisit every awful detail.
For me that meant therapy. Lots. It meant a year-long bout with postnatal depression and it’s cousin, anxiety. It meant figuring out who I was, who I wanted to be, and no longer caring about anyone else’s opinion. Former people pleaser, right here folks <————-
Setting an example for my daughter became my sole motivation to get my shit together. I wanted to be a woman who had passion and fulfillment in life. So when I say my daughter gave me an identity, I’m not talking about the label ‘Mother,’ but rather how she was the catalyst for me to reclaim, create, and decide who I wanted to be.
I always wanted children and remember helping when my little brother was born. Always the babysitter, I have over 20 younger cousins on my Father’s side alone. I knew how to hold a baby, how to change a nappy. I had no idea how my own flesh and blood would try to swallow me whole.
The moment we came out of the birthing suite and laid her in the hospital bassinet she started choking on mucus. I thought all that stuff would have been squeezed out from the two hours she spent in my birth canal. Immediately terrified and from that moment on I felt completely unprepared to take responsibility for her precious life. She was so delicate and I, so clueless.
For someone who always wanted kids and who had low expectations for Parenthood, even I was crushed by the weight of it. Well-meaning strangers amplified my feelings of failure by telling me to enjoy every single moment (maybe I would have enjoyed it more with some sleep and regular showers). The old me was buried under expectations, martyrdom, judgment and guilt. Imagine if I were a woman previously ‘on the fence’ about having kids? Someone who expected the baby to light up my world? Regret could have easily followed.
I came across a controversial article on about Mothers who regret having children. A taboo topic yet I felt empathy for those mothers. The honesty and bravery of the piece surprised me and then again, it didn’t.
Modern motherhood sets us up for failure. The myth that children will magically give our life purpose. Few people speak up about the harsher realities of motherhood (I don’t say parenthood because I feel the expectations on women are far greater). We are supposed to fall in love with the child immediately (not everyone does), enjoy every single moment (only if you are insane), we must always put children first (no one can parent successfully with an empty cup). Oh yeah- and we must do it all in isolation because our villages are gone.
So while I personally don’t regret Motherhood, I can completely understand how some women would. I shared the article in on my Facebook page and insightful and honest discussion ensued (it could have gone in the opposite direction).
Sited in the original article is this one written in 2005. It’s written by a woman who publicly stated that she loves her husband more than her children. I remember seeing the author on Oprah, hearing the boos, watching the audience’s negative reactions. A young adult myself, it never occurred to me that my parents had lives outside of the home. A year later they would divorce as soon as my brother graduated from High School, a classic case of ‘staying together for the kids.’
Side Note: Don’t stay together for the kids! Show the kids how to be truly happy!
Having my daughter made me want to be a better person, much like with a love affair, because I wanted to be worthy of being her mother. Deep down I felt unhappy with myself. I desperately wanted to be the example of a fulfilled, confident, successful and satisfied woman but I was far from it and I’ll be damned if I was going to put that responsibility onto my little girl.
So maybe I differ from the honest Oprah guest in that it’s a constant struggle for me to PREVENT making my daughter the centre of my universe. To remember to save some energy for my relationship and for myself. After all, someday kids leave. And you're still there.
No matter what you see on social media, there is no perfect way to parent (and no perfect parents). I think it would be better to share our struggles and support one another more openly. Maybe that we could admit to ourselves and our children that life isn’t meant to be one, long highlight-reel. But rather a series of attempts, failures, resilience and forgiveness. I think those are good lessons for both parents and children.
Can you understand why some mothers have regrets?
Brought to you by Homedics
To maximise enjoyment of items on this list, take part while children are in bed or in front of the television. Go on already, you deserve it.
Many of these suggestions won’t be mind-blowing or original. What I suggest is that by being mindful, attentive to detail and really deliberate about each of these ideas, it will allow you to fully immerse yourself in the experience.
It’s not about spending money to relax but rather to let go during a normal day. To allow yourself time to enjoy simple pleasures. We all get too busy, give too much but if you remember to fill your own cup every once in a while, you’ll be a better version of yourself. And therefore better prepared to help others.
It sounds simple, because it is. This suggestion comes with strict guidelines for maximum enjoy-factor. First, you need to find a place, it can be a comfy nook or a blanket on the grass. Somewhere quiet, away from technology (music excluded). Set it up first, get the details of the setting juuuuust right. Next make your perfect cup of coffee or tea, exactly the way you like it, in your favourite mug. And for the next 15 minutes, sip away while focusing solely on your drink and your environment. You’ll feel ready to tackle the rest of the day.
This is the real deal. I just got the Homedics Footspa with True Heat to try and it's like foot heaven. For the price of two salon pedis, you could own one of these massagers yourself and pamper your peds without stepping outside the house.
Calling all bookworms. Reading in bed is like a vacation. Grab a book or magazine, recline on your pillows, then just lose yourself in the stories or articles. I would recommend a book because magazines just get me thinking about my to-do list, and a good book has the power to transport you. Set an alarm for the added insurance that you can really take that trip in your mind without worrying about forgetting to pick up the kids. 😉
No groceries, no cooking, no dishes, no problem. Make sure you do something nice with all that time you save, like eat dessert in front of the TV. Hey, life's all about balance.
This one is a no-brainer. Take it a step further and add some lovely essential oils to the bath, and give yourself a full body scrub. You can easily make your own with coconut oil and Epsom salt like in this recipe here.
This is something I attempt every now and then. It’s a practise people swear by and it’s been proven to help with all sorts of stress related ailments. Give it a try- there are so many different methods and no wrong way to do it. The key is to get still in mind and body. I used an app called Headspace which is great- they offer 10 free meditation lessons.
Have you ever tried writing a gratitude list? I have and it’s helped me through some dark times. Journalling does not come naturally to me. Even if your day is so crappy that the best thing about it is that someone held a door open for you and that you got to eat lunch uninterrupted, it forces your brain to start focusing on the more positive experiences in your day to day. It’s an instant mood booster. Start with 5 things per day, if you don’t feel like writing make a mental list.
So there you have it. My twist on your typical ways to pamper yourself without leaving home. Being short on time is no excuse not to treat yourself. All you need is an hour or less and you'll be feeling brand new in no time at all!
The 12-week rule is mainstream. Every day parents post joyful, clever, pregnancy announcements on social media...but only after the first trimester is done and dusted.
Questioning this socially-accepted timeline will usually garner a stock-standard reply: there is a higher risk of miscarriage within the first 12 weeks. This answer bothers me because it implies miscarriages should be kept secret too. What about women who prefer to have social support through such a difficult time?
Speaking of support, the first trimester is when some of the worst physical symptoms (like fatigue and morning sickness) present themselves. It's when women make diet and lifestyle changes which can lead to some serious fibbing if people notice (and they will). How many times can you claim food-poisoning or dodge a delicious Chardonnay?
My argument is that such a personal revelation should be left to the parents, not some societal standard- especially when people judge when you choose not to follow the guide. When we told friends about our first pregnancy at 8-10 weeks there were lots of big eyes, gasps, and comments like, "Wow, it's early!"
I genuinely want to understand the reasons why people adhere to the 12-week rule. This is what I've found after speaking to friends, my Obstetrician, and Google but if you have a different point of view- please leave a comment. I'd love to hear it.
1. Most miscarriages occur in the first trimester. The risk reduces to 0.5% at week nine (Source) so why don't we spill the beans at ten weeks if it's really about miscarriage risk?
My thoughts: A miscarriage occurs in one out of every 4 or 5 pregnancies (depending on what stats you read). Miscarriages can happen well after 12 weeks. Stillbirths happen. Is a pregnancy ever really ‘safe’? Of course not. So how long do we wait to celebrate or prepare?
2. The Pain of telling people about a miscarriage. Yes, it would royally suck 'un-telling' people about a pregnancy but isn’t pain part of the grieving process? Should we really expect women to grieve alone?
My thoughts: The realist in me says that open honest discussion around the frequency of miscarriage would lead to better expectation management in early pregnancy.
“Are we 'allowed' to have it qualify as a grief? Are we expected to suffer in silence if it's such a common experience?” Bee Rowlatt
3. Workplace Discrimination. It is illegal to fire a woman for being pregnant but it happens.
My thoughts: This is a societal problem. It should be addressed. Talking about it more might help.
4. Fear of the Unknown. Some women may experience an unplanned pregnancy and need to process the information slowly.
My thoughts: Understandable however will they magically feel ready to speak up at 12 weeks? Not necessarily. I say, let her speak when she's ready to.
5. Subsequent Miscarriage or infertility. This can be a long, emotional process for couples who have trouble conceiving. They may want to keep their journey private and that comes down to personal choice.
My thoughts: This is a personal and individual decision and your medical journey should be a private one if that's easier for you.
6. Superstition. In my opinion, this is the most intangible reason for secrecy because it implies the Mother is to blame.
My thoughts: A women can no sooner ‘jynx’ her pregnancy than she can control it.
Historically women would share news of their pregnancy during ‘the quickening’ which is when they first felt fetal movements and after several missed periods. This is usually after 20 weeks or the fourth month.
Ultrasounds were developed to detect chromosomal abnormalities in the 1970's and couples could decide whether or not to terminate based on the results (Source.) Perhaps this is the seed that started the whole 12-week-rule societal standard. So maybe waiting 12 weeks comes from the shame of not wanting to care for an 'imperfect' child.
Has it now morphed into something even bigger with more superstitions, taboos, and restrictions?
I used to silently judge people who shared the news 'too early.' As a woman, why would I default to that type of thinking rather than support? Seems rather passive of me not to question why.
So if I can't pinpoint the origins of the 12-week rule, maybe it's time to break it.
1. Society does not have the right to dictate something so personal. The decision to announce a pregnancy should be left to the parents based on their level of comfort and desire for privacy. There should be no societal standard, end of story.
“For those who want to let people know their news, we should join them in celebrating their news and offering our support not our judgment.” Steph, Writer
2. Miscarriage should not be shrouded in secrecy. For such a universal, human experience, we don’t share about it enough. Some parents may move on quickly, sure, but some will experience a lifetime of grief. We have rituals and protocol for death but none for miscarriage.
3. You won’t have to lie. Most women have to change their diet and lifestyle during pregnancy. I would hold a glass of wine and steadily pour it into my husband’s glass throughout the evening (he was drinking for two and I was eating for two.) Unless you enjoy secrets, we have the opportunity to replace secrecy with empathy.
“Staying quiet for 12 weeks while you grow a human being inside of you is nothing short of completely insane.” Wendy Zamora
4. We can support women. I have not suffered a miscarriage personally but I can relate to suffering from depression in silence. I tried my hardest to push through, cover up, act like everything was FINE. This reinforces the societal stigma and fear of the disease and I fear the same happens with miscarriage. Let's talk about it, above a whisper.
5. To have boundaries. Today we live in a culture of social media where many people share ‘too much information’ where personal boundaries are often stretched to the limit and beyond. The decision of when, where, and how a pregnancy is revealed should be left to the individuals. End of story.
6. To build a village. Whether you're having a difficult first trimester or suffer a miscarriage, it helps to speak to women who have been there, who can offer advice and support. Having a solid network in place will better prepare you for new parenthood when it happens.
"Let us destroy the ‘perfect pregnancy’ myth. Are we ‘saving’ women from sharing the news of a miscarriage or are we saving our culture from the knowledge that pregnancy can end unexpectedly, that it can get ugly, that it’s not all about cute bumps and a glow."
Let us destroy the ‘perfect pregnancy’ myth. Are we ‘saving’ women from sharing the news of a miscarriage or are we saving our culture from the knowledge that pregnancy can end unexpectedly, that it can get ugly, that it’s not all about cute bumps and a glow.
Pregnancy is not 'polite' and women should not be burdened with making it appear to be.
Writing this today, I am seven weeks into my second pregnancy (probably 8 by the time I publish this). Part of me wanted to share immediately (I found out at exactly four weeks) but another part of me wanted to keep it close for a while because I share a lot of myself online.
I am telling you our news because you are my people. We connect through stories and your support means the world to me. If this pregnancy does not result in a healthy baby, I will share that too- in my own time. Meanwhile, we will celebrate this bean because he or she means so much to our family already.
Editors note: I've gotten some feedback from women who choose to wait 20+ weeks to share their news. To them, this post probably seems like I'm more strongly advocating for announcing early but only when that helps the woman feel more supported. Wait if you want to wait, tell if you want to tell. Let's embrace the news no matter what. And let's better support women who experience miscarriage.
Brought to you by Bupa
Before becoming a mother, I thought postnatal depression looked like Brooke Shields on Oprah taking about how she didn’t want to hold her baby. I remember watching that episode and thinking, ‘How sad.’ The teenage me had not a single, flippin’ clue.
What I know now is that Postnatal depression is tricky and it looks different for everybody.
Fast forward from teen me to my personal postnatal nightmare. I obsessed over my daughter to the point where I imagined sending her into therapy for my neediness. It wasn’t all negative, there were moments of love and joy, so I couldn’t possibly have postnatal depression, could I?
In the background constant negative thoughts told me I was failing at Motherhood. That my child deserved someone who knew what to do, someone who wasn’t so miserable, someone who could get out of pyjamas and go for walks in the sunshine. My daughter deserved a Mother who liked herself.
As for the bonding thing? Let’s just make it irrelevant. I have plenty of friends without PND who didn’t bond with their babies immediately. I mean, those majestic pink newbies are technically total strangers so it’s understandable.
My personality is the only reason I bonded with my daughter. One look at my past and you’ll see a string of impulse puppy purchases and deadbeat boyfriends; “I know he doesn’t have a job and treats me bad but I looooooooove him.” (Don’t worry, I’ve learned my lesson.) Bonding schmonding, it was not an indication of my mental health.
The backbone of my recovery was support. It can come from a variety of different places, family, friends, babysitters, online communities and tools. Bupa has developed some new resources that can also help.
In partnership with industry leading researchers, specialists and Mums, mummatters can assess your emotional wellbeing and provide you with tips and resources. It even provides regular check-ins to see how you’re going. It’s personalised too- so you will get information relevant to your unique situation.
There’s something so valuable about getting a third party perspective on your emotional health. My husband wanted to suggest getting help but he had to walk on eggshells around my mood swings and didn’t want to make me feel any worse.
Another thing I love about this tool is that it’s confidential. I will never forget standing in my driveway (for privacy) and calling my MCH nurse. Our connection was crackly and she asked me to repeat myself until I practically shouted; “I think I’m depressed and I need help!” (In case any of my neighbours were wondering.)
Remember, PND can feel more like a rollercoaster of emotions than typical depression. There are high moments, which is why I think it’s so confusing to self-diagnose. You might not want to pick up your baby like Brooke Shields or you might never want to put her down. The only thing that matters is that you treat yourself with the same tender care that you would give your own child.
When you are ready for a hand Mama, it’s out there. You do not have to go through this alone.
If you or someone you love is suffering from Postnatal Depression or Anxiety please seek help.
My GP once told me; “Depression is not a casserole disease.” As in, people don’t necessarily rally around you like they would with a physical illness. Maybe it’s because we don’t talk about this enough.
Mental illness manifests itself in as many different ways as there are folds in our crinkly brains. Each treatment can be personalised for each individual. I’m going to share my approach so you can get an idea of what worked for me, but everyone will have slightly different needs.
The first thing I did was find a therapist. I called my maternal and child health nurse to ask for help and for a recommendation. It took me five months to make that phone call. I blame the PND emotional rollercoaster, the occasional good day gave me false hope that things would get better on their own.
I went to counselling. Through my Bupa private health fund I had access to the Bupa Parent and Baby Wellbeing Program. I had several sessions, my choice of group or one-on-one, with no out of pocket costs. It is essential to maintain regular check-ins with a health professional to track your progress. Therapy was the cornerstone in my healing- no way around this.
I found an occasional care centre, pushed through the guilt and chucked my 8 month old in there for 5 hours, once a week. Sometimes I used the free-time productively and other times I would sleep. Either way I started to recognise the necessity of ‘me time.’ If you can’t spare the child-care expense see if you can swap babysitting with a friend or relative.
In my sessions we started exploring the topic of identity. What it meant and how to rediscover a new identity that included ‘Mother.’ I started making time for some of the things I used to enjoy like yoga, painting and writing. I cut and dyed my hair and repurposed my wardrobe to fit my new lifestyle, sometimes seemingly superficial things can help anchor how we see ourselves. You don’t have to spend money to change your look. Go through what you already have, get rid of what you don’t need, or trade with a friend.
When my daughter was nine months old I joined a local gym with child minding. Moving my body helped with healing my mind and relieving stress. Working out made me want to eat better and it’s amazing how much being physically active can aid in emotional health. Not a fan of the gym? Get out walking with that pram.
I went to every single Mums group catch up and even offered to organise events. These women were on the front lines with me and made me feel less alone. I sought out online communities to ask advice and share my frustrations. Friendships were forged that would never have been possible. Find your corner of the world or Internet.
I started writing about postnatal depression on my blog. At the time I didn’t share my writing with many but one day I decided to put it out there on social media. At first I felt like I had overshared but when the responses flooded in and I heard the chorus of ‘me too,’ this motivated me to keep revealing the truth.
I started to embrace my flaws as a parent and a person instead of loathing them. I decided to admit my mistakes, even to my baby daughter, so I can teach her it’s okay to be human. I stopped feeling guilty about my depression because that is useless as feeling guilty for having brown eyes.
I stopped comparing myself to other parents. I stopped judging others, and myself. I think everyone so badly wants to parent the ‘right way’ that if someone else is doing it differently it means we are ‘wrong.’ Every family needs to do what works best for them. All that matters is that we do the best we can by our children.
You can see how I fought PND from many different angles including mental, physical and environmental. Every tactic I used empowered me to heal myself and to get well. New resources are being developed all the time so experiment, try different approaches like Bupa’s mummatters, a tool built with industry experts to provide a ‘check in’ for mums before and after birth.
If I could add a number nine to my list it would be prevention. Given the belated gift of hindsight I would definitely encourage new and expecting mothers to have support systems in place during and even before pregnancy. If I had help waiting in the wings before I needed it I’m sure my emotional health would have been back on track much sooner. I would have loved a tool like mummatters during my first pregnancy and you better believe I’ll have it for the next one.
She’s crying crocodile tears and howling for emphasis.
The world ended because I turned off the TV as punishment. I can’t even fathom the amount of drama headed in our direction for the teenage years…Aaaaand I think she might be a touch more intense than I was in mine. Tiny baby Jesus help us all.
We were running late and I was running out of patience but I choose this battle for safety reasons. She refused to hold my hand while walking down our new stairs. I have horrifying anxiety about (her) falling down those stairs. Even though they are a glorious annex from our old house to the new extension. Thick, black steel frames holding planks of American oak so smooth you want to bend down and run your fingers over them. A structural sculpture.
One day (hopefully soon) I will paint giant canvases to hang on the walls in the stair-atrium which will add to it’s grandness on a budget.
Screams bring me back into the morning. Defiant. Stubborn. Screams.
Cranky and cold I shove her into a warm coat and carseat as gently as I can muster. I am already daydreaming about it…My morning coffee. Today I get to drink it alone.
I'll be in and out of that drop-off in two minutes flat.
Back home in my new, sun-lit kitchen I will gather my pre-mixed coconut and almond milk, coconut sugar and a white tea cup, saucer and spoon. I'll scoop rich-smelling brown granules into my cup before placing it under the Nespresso machine. I will fill the milk-frother to just below the first line and cap it. I'll push both buttons at the same time and watch the dark, fragrant espresso fill my cup- a wedding gift.
The espresso and sugar will get a stir before they get foam, then I'll stir everything together. Finally I'll rinse out the the machine before taking a sip so I could fully relax and absorb the taste.
That day I might take my cup upstairs to the new art studio. I could put on DJ Diplo and friends radio on Spotify, set up my brushes, glob paints onto a palette, and fill old jalepeño jars with water.
Yes that is exactly what I’ll do as I sip and stare at yesterday’s work. I’ll think about where to pick up today and wonder how the paints are going to cooperate. Better than my daughter, I hope.
The first strokes will tell me. Will it be ‘smooth’ or a battle? Will I dig my heels in or will I work around it? Just as I will start to understand what the paint wants, caffeine will kick in and my feet will start to dance a little.
Almost three hours later an alarm will go off- alerting me that it’s 15 minutes until pick-up. I’ll realise I’m hungry and that I need to comb my hair.
I will scramble to clean up as much as I can before I have (oh shit) five minutes to get to the childcare centre and pick up my daughter. Good thing it’s a three minute drive on a good day.
Back then to the dishwasher and chasing crumbs and I will wait another six days to go back to that place where time lunges forward.
What's your morning ritual?
Literally sucks. Get it? (I know I know, I couldn’t help myself).
I’m in the lucky position of breastfeeding being a distant memory. It’s no secret I didn’t like it. Aside from the physical suckage of breastfeeding, it can be mentally sucky as well. At least it was for me.
Check out this video of a bunch of us Mums speaking about the experience. I was on the more negative end of the scale but it’s not as bad for everyone!
Breastfeeding doesn't look the same for everyoneMedela Australia recently conducted a survey with 4000 Australian Mums to discover attitudes towards experience with breastfeeding and sourcing parenting advice. Results reveal many women put pressure on themselves to breastfeed because of health benefits breastfeeding provides, yet most go on to experience associated challenges. The MyMedela app, is a personal digital companion providing practical advice, tips and tricks from experts on pregnancy, birth and breastfeeding, whilst post birth, acts as an efficient tracking tool to monitor babies progress in key areas such as breastfeeding to suit mums’ needs today.
What breastfeeding challenges have you overcome?Posted by Medela Australia on Thursday, July 7, 2016
Not only is it time consuming, painful and restrictive but I felt like a prisoner. Breastfeeding affected what I wore, what time I went out, when I pumped. It was a constant battle to build up a supply in the freezer.
I had mastitis, sore nipples, an infected duct. Yet I persisted. For seven months. Why did I do it for so long if I hated it you might ask (other than sheer stubbornness or masochism)?
Because I love science.
(Note to self. Probably don’t use the word masochism in a post about breastfeeding.)
Breastfeeding is an incredible biological process that we don’t even know everything about yet. Our bodies give babies exactly what they need. Milk changes according to the baby’s needs- how fascinating! For reals the little science we have about breastfeeding is majorly impressive. Our. bodies. make. food. Sign me up… but then let me quit when I want to.
Some people can’t do it, won’t do it and others try and fail (not at motherhood just at boob feeding). It takes all kinds of Mums to raise all kinds of kids and I salute and support all of you.
Breastfeeding along with healthy eating, taking vitamins, exercise are just a few of the difficult things in life that promote better health in my opinion.
When I weaned my daughter it was a mutual parting of ways. I was so relieved yet there were moments when I waxed nostalgic that I could never go back to nursing. It seemed so final.
I’m proud of myself for sticking to it as long as I did. It was hard. No one really tells you that. You're welcome.
Things that helped me were Google. Apps. Diagrams. I googled the shit out of proper latch, different holds, all sorts of techniques until I figured out what worked for us. Thank goodness for 24/7 Internet because that knowledge is just not passed down properly anymore.
If you’re interested in further reading check out the results of this Medela Australia survey of 4,000 Australian women.
To watch another part of this video about motherhood, check out this post with video click here. Bonus you totes get to see me cry.
How did you feel about breastfeeding?
Dreambaby ® asked me if I wanted to review some products so I selected a few I thought I would use in everyday life. Spoiler alert: I loved them.
I am your typical over-packer. I was always the girl carrying a handbag twice her size, kind of like a little, brunette ant. Imagine then, what happened when I became a Mother.
If you can't, just take that handbag visual, add a baby, plus equipment, plus snacks, plus entertainment. I was carrying enough for a small ant family to set up camp for a week.
This is why I’m a sucker for any gadget that can streamline my life.
Now that my daughter is out of the baby stage and into toddler territory, she can walk most places. I still drag the pram along with us where ever we go because it’s kind of my metal and canvas version of a handbag.
Seriously. I stuff everything into it, under it, ontop of it. When nothing else fits- we go home. #issues
The pram can fit so many things- and really it’s my way of delaying the inevitable.
Prams make great handbags, they really do. We have real problems however when the toddler actually wants to get back INTO the pram after it's jammed full of bags.
Enter…..Dreambaby ® with it’s simple, inexpensive, clips and hooks for added hanging storage. I’ve been using these for the past few weeks now and I still get so excited when I remember I have one on me. (I started keeping one in the pram at all times).
Pro tip: Keep one in the pram, one in the car, and one in the nappy bag. You can buy several of them because they are 'cheap and cheerful.' Do it.
There is even one with a combination lock incase you need to lock things to other things!
Meanwhile at the supermarket....
Friend Dreambaby ® on Facebook
Follow them on Insta
Scope em' out on YouTube
The list of uses for these things does not stop with everyday shopping. I just flew 24 hours with my almost-three-year-old from Melbourne to New York and I had these clips with me. Viola!
It’s not the flight which is challenging but the ability to carry all the stuff you need, plus at some point a tired kid.
So I have to give these Dreambaby ® Clips and Clip Buddies a big, double thumbs up. And I can do that....because my hands are free.
International travel with toddlers is daunting. I've flown with my daughter from Australia to New York three times before she turned three. This is what I've learned- I hope it helps other ex-pats and international families like mine.
These suggestions are mainly for toddlers or older kids, click here for a post specifically related to travel with an infant. My first tip might sound controversial, feel free to disregard, but it works.
My travels taught me to appreciate the journey as much as the destination because anything and everything can, and will, go wrong. Of course, this sentiment is much more romantic before children come into the picture.
I’m a natural wanderer (at least I used to be, which is how a gal from Buffalo ended up in Melbourne Australia.) I feel at home in airports, in-transit, and in-between time zones.
The first time I flew with my daughter she was six months old. I felt panicky like all eyes were on us, probably a bit of karma. During my days as a solo passenger, I prayed no little seat-kicker sit near or behind me.
My daughter and I survived our first trip across the globe, and she was a champ compared to what I had imagined. Lesson one- don't be your own worst enemy. I spent more time stressing before and during the trip and she didn't even blink. Yes, there were moments when she fussed, just as there are fussy moments in everyday life.
I'm pleased to report that the people sitting near us were always cool. Even if they weren't, children are part of the population- tell them to deal with it. (And don't you dare bring little treat bags with candies and earplugs for your fellow passengers- do not apologize for having a baby in the world).
They say that the younger the baby, the smoother the journey and it's probably true. That first trip was much easier than the next two. Toddlers are a whole different animal.
When I mentally prepped for ‘operation toddler migration’ I asked lots of other ex-pats their best advice. They came up with a terrific list which you can read in this post here. I took these suggestions on board (literally) and below is my run-down of what worked best.
This one is controversial but I would be dishonest if I left it out. I took my toddler halfway across the world and I gave her an antihistamine to make her sleepy. When it comes to my kid, I typically reach for natural remedies first. I spoke to two doctors, a pharmacist, my therapist and the advice ranged from; ‘Technically we are not supposed to recommend it,” to “dose her up as soon as you get on the plane.”
The downsides: It’s not recommended for children under two and sometimes the medication can cause the adverse reaction, making the child more alert (test it before you travel) so I’ll state the obvious: proceed with caution. That being said, for us, the drugs were a freaking lifesaver! The only time Lavinia slept was after I dosed her up (a meager total of 6 hours out of 24.) I truly believe the sleep benefitted her far more than any adverse effects of the medicine.
My ‘emergency’ stash of M&M’s came out before we even made it through the security line but at least they kept her quiet. It’s all about survival folks. Little treats, even if they are not exactly ‘healthy,’ can be a good distraction.
Generally, when you travel with small children they seat you in the bulkhead- which means no storage in front of you. If your kid melts down the last thing you need is to dig through the overhead bin while they scream. Pack a nappy bag with a few basics in it (diapers, a few snacks, a change of clothes, wipes, and toys) to keep in the floor in front of you during the flight. Store the larger bag with refill supplies in overhead during take-off and landing.
This is good one. I went to the dollar shop and bought a bunch of little toys, stickers, and games to give throughout the flight (you can wrap them up for an extra five seconds of entertainment.) The ones that held her attention the longest were interactive like stickers and colouring books. My profuse apologies to the cleanup crew for the decorations we left behind.
My daughter didn’t spend much time playing with our iPad until that second flight (when she was two-years-old). I admit we have crossed over to the dark side now as it’s a staple during travel. So be it. Sometimes you just have to let things slide. I don't want her to be the only freak in kindergarten not knowing what her top three favourite apps are (I joke, I joke.) Which brings me to my last point.
This may sound funny coming from me because I am anxious. A control-freak from way back, parenting has brought out the worst of my perfectionism. It's been a huge lesson to me that I can’t control my daughter or her environment, no matter how hard I try to schedule things. Letting go is a big part of this whole experience (travel and life).
I let a lot slide.
While in the USA, much to my displeasure, Lavinia has become obsessed with juice, bagels, and ice cream. She’s been staying up late, bruising her shins, and chasing dogs. She’s fallen into a pool and gotten slightly tanned (a no-no for Aussies), but you know what? She had a freaking ball.
If you are hesitant to travel with young kids because of the stress- do it anyway. The memories you will make are more than worth it. I’m a firm believer that, no matter how young, travel makes you a better, richer human being.
Sponsored by Bupa Australia
I have been writing about my experience with postnatal depression (PND) and anxiety since my daughter was five months old. Recently I was offered an opportunity to put my face to this illness in a very public way.
Sometimes when someone offers you an opportunity to ‘walk-the-walk’ it can be terrifying but without fear we cannot be brave.
My family and I appeared in a commercial for Bupa’s Parent and Baby Wellbeing Program which debuted nationally in Australia over a week ago. We are not aspiring actors, just real people sharing our story to help other families who may be going through something similar.
I’ve always tried to speak about my experience with PND openly with my friends and blog-readers but when Bupa contacted me to see if I would like to share my story on national TV I was nervous….but in a good way. Whenever I decide to push beyond the boundaries of my comfort-zone, it usually leads to unexpected growth.
My gut told me told me to do the ad. I have been a Bupa customer since 2011 and I believed in the story they wanted to tell. I participated-in and loved the program they were promoting. The whole thing aligned with my core values. Best case scenario, more women would know about the program and it could help de-stigmatise post natal depression.
By saying yes to the ad, I could potentially reach more people than my blog or mouth ever could.
There are those who don’t believe in sharing such a personal journey and that’s okay too. I tried to picture what that criticism might look like. When I first started sharing stories on the blog I had family members question why I didn’t just write in a journal. They were trying to protect me but I was already hurting.
Back then, just like now, I wanted to go public. To connect to others. To hold myself accountable. To help change the world in my own, small way.
I am confident in where I am and how I got there.
And you know what? Being open about my journey has led to richer, more grounded relationships, deeper friendships and I have become much more confident in myself. Finally, I am not worried what others think of me.
I have learned that post natal depression is so much more common than I ever imagined. Maybe women, like myself, didn’t know where to go to seek help. Even as a Bupa customer, I was unaware I had access to The Parent and Baby Wellbeing Program until I desperately needed it.
So can I please ask you a favour?
Help me spread the word. Share this post with a pregnant friend, a mother, or a family that might need help or support.
Let’s all be accountable for those villages that all parents and children need.
