Combinding Christmas Traditions

My husband and I have faced a dilemma this year that caught us completely off guard.  I am sure this is not a new issue out there and many young families face it every year.  How do you combine your individual family Christmas traditions to make your own family traditions?

Our son is two and half, but this is his first Christmas home (which I had to fight for but I will get to that later).  The last two Christmases we were traveling; the first to the US to visit my family and last years his whole family did Christmas in Fiji.  They we fun and glorious but never made us think about how we wanted our Christmas to go down.

So it all began about two months ago when we started making our plans for Christmas.  I made the argument that we should be home this year and let our son wake up in his own bed and have Santa visit him in his own house.  But, for my husband, it was always Christmas Eve at Nan’s house for presents and then Santa comes the next morning, with the family having a big Christmas lunch later in the day.  Now I might mention that Nan’s house is five hours away and this little lady has to work Christmas Eve.  I put my “foot down”  on the whole Christmas Eve deal and “we” decided that it did not make sense for us to rush off to Nan’s after I got out of work on Christmas Eve.  I was pleased that our son would have Christmas morning in his own bed and we would not be fighting the ungodly Christmas Eve traffic.

Being the slightly comprising women that I am, I agreed that we would make it up to Nan’s for Christmas dinner and not rush our morning.  At this point now with Christmas only two days away it has gone from Christmas dinner to an early Christmas dinner at 4pm to “oh surely we can make it there by 3pm to open presents before Christmas dinner”.  I could slowly see our relaxed Christmas morning turning into a hurried opening up of presents just to jump straight in the car to make it to Nan’s on time.  I put the hard word on my husband to tell his family we will get there when we get there and we are not going to rush to ruin this Christmas morning for our son.  Luckily my husband didn’t put up much of a fight and we kept it at a 4pm dinner at Nan’s.  All our Christmas issues solved or so I thought.

It continued on about two weeks ago with the pulling out of the Christmas decorations.  I started hanging stockings and my husband looked at me with an odd look and said “why do we have stockings?”

“Um hello for Santa to fill” I responded. 

Then we got into a debate about where Santa’s gifts would go.  In my family it was always Santa filled the stockings and then left a couple of cool presents under the tree with everyone else’s presents.  For my husband, Santa left a Santa Sack full of presents under the tree.  This explains his massive stocking that was hanging on the mantel.  I argued half the fun is ripping off all the wrapping paper from the Santa presents under the tree, plus you get your stocking before breakfast to keep you busy.  The look of horror on his face when I mention this made me take a step back.  Clearly we have different ideas on Christmas morning.

 

Growing up in his house hold it was a free for with kids pulling everything out of Santa Sacks and breakfast was secondary.  We were a little more civilised in my house hold in which we only opened our stocking and then sat down to a special breakfast, once finished we would all gather around the Christmas tree opening presents one at a time. 

Through much debate we agreed on: a stocking/Santa Sack combo to open before breakfast, followed by a nice breakfast and then some presents wrapped under the tree from Santa and us.

Through our whole relationship my husband and I have battled certain cultural barriers.  I mean they are not huge barriers, I’m American and he is Australian.  But we have always handled them with grace, understanding and an eagerness to learn where the other one is coming from.  However these personal, family traditions that we both hold so sacred have really thrown us off our game.  It is odd to think that we both went to these discussions thinking that our traditions were the norm and how dare the other suggest something different. 

Anyways we have the plan for this year, who knows what will happen next year when baby #2 is with us.

A mother of boys

With my return to work and move to Canberra I have taken quite of bit time off writing this blog (not that I was a huge contributor before).  But with the on set of my next round of maternity leave a head of me, I thought it would be time to start up again.  So here is the first of many in the coming year I hope to publish on my blog and keep my writing dream alive.

I am going to be a mother of boys. 

This realisation has fallen heavily on my shoulders since the confirmation in the ultra sound room.  Our first child is a boy and now our second will be a boy. 

This realisation has brought on many emotions, as I had it set in my head that number two would be a girl.  We even had the name sorted and everything.  I had a feeling from the beginning there was a little girl in there and  this was even confirmed by my gorgeous slightly psychic Greek friend Mani.  From the moment he saw me pregnant  he said it was a girl with that confident Greek voodoo of his. 

But no, it is not meant to be as there was a definite and defining additional appendage on the ultrasound photo. 

I’m currently 8 months pregnant and the weight of what is a head of me is daunting.  Now don’t get me wrong, even if it was a girl it would be still very daunting.  However, I do feel very lonely in my sex.  Beside our dog, it will just be me of the female gender in our household. 

Yes, yes many people tell me just go for the third if you want a girl, but neither my mind nor my body is up for three children of any sex.  So, now is a time of acceptance and appreciation that this little baby boy growing rapidly inside me is healthy and hopefully happy.  I have to accept that there will be no little dresses or pretty shoes.  I have to accept there will be no passing on of jewellery or clothes such as wedding dresses. 

There is also a sadness that I cannot be that strong role model for a young girl and show her the way I have strived to be an independent, educated, opinionated and passionate women in all my pursuits.  I know these things are extremely important to be as a role model for my boys, but for some reason it will not feel the same as if I saw my daughter striving to be these things as well.

There is a relief involved with having boys.  They will not have as much societal pressure to be and look a certain way.  They will have a freedom that many young girls struggle to keep as they grow older.  They will have an amazing man to look up too, their father, who will teach them how to be a strong, emotional, caring and independent men.  I feel I will not have to worry as much about them as I would having daughters. It is not very progressive thing to say, but I would worry about the pressure to conform they would have to face. 

I do look forward to seeing my oldest boy have a brother and the bond they will form that will be stronger than anything I ever had with my brother.  It will be chaos and I know I will have loneliness and lots of points not understanding the male brain, but I chalk it up to another challenge thrown at me.  I will raise my boys with open mindedness and appreciation for all aspects of the world and hopefully I can be a strong enough role model for them.

Mornings

Oh how I miss the mornings when the alarm would go off and I would lazily hit the snooze button two or three times before finally throwing off the covers and starting my day.  I would still have ample time to take a shower, do my hair and makeup or maybe have a quickie with the hubby before we both set out for work.

Now oh now, as soon as the alarm goes off I have to burst out of bed while my 13 month old is still sleeping.  This is imperative as during these precious 10 or 15 minutes I have to get myself toileted, cleaned, make upped, dressed and fed, because as soon as he wakes up it is go time.  My husband joins me in the mad dash in the morning but unfortunately he has to take off for work well before I can drop our boy at day care before heading to work.  So he is normally out the door before he even wakes.

Once up the boy requires so much attention between the nappy change, breastfeed, breakfast that I try to feed him while gingerly keep myself from having soggy Weetabix thrown all over me.  The chaos can be so great that I often find myself walking out the door with two different shoes or completely forgetting important things such as a wallet, phone or bus pass. 

I also face the struggle of the actual drop off at day care.  This requires me scrambling down our apartment stairs with son in one hand and my bag, his bag, coffee, umbrella, water bottle, the works in the other hand.  Then chucking it all in and on the stroller we set off for what is meant to be a quick two minute walk up the hill to the day care centre.  Between dodging traffic and things being propelled from the stroller by my strong-armed son it can easily take 10 minutes. 

Once there the educators take one look at my frazzled state and gently take my son off of me and send me on my way to work.  The one saving grace during this chaos is the day care centre is close to home and close to the bus stop.  Which is great as I normally watch the bus I am supposed to catch go whooshing by just as I am walking out the door. 

By the time I get to work I often feel like I have ran a marathon and it is only 8am.  I look around at my colleagues as the lazily saunter through the door and chat to each other about last nights after work drinks and hangovers.  

I dreamily think lucky them (besides the one colleague that looks like he is going to spend most of the day in the toilet) and then I glance over at the photos of my son and husband on my desk and a smile comes to my face.  This smile says it all and why the chaos is chaotic, it’s its own brand of fun, especially when you have great teammates.

The Judgment of Strangers

This is something that has been on my mind for a while.   

We recently were in the US visiting family and friends over the holidays.  While in transit at the Dallas Airport sitting at our gate, I just happened to looked up to see a women walking along bogged down with bags, an infant strapped to her chest and what looked like a four year old following behind her. 

She stopped to check on her daughter who began to throw a tantrum for whatever reasons (there rarely is one) and threw herself on the floor.  The mother was obviously in a hurry to catch a flight and had words with her daughter to that extent while grabbing her hand and pulling her along behind her, along with all their bags and the infant screaming in her ear.   Her daughter wiggled away and continued the tantrum.  The exhausted mother grabbed whatever limb she could manage too, which just happened to be her leg, and began pushing forward. 

Then out of the blue a woman stopped and I thought oh good some one is helping her.  I was bogged down with my own infant and bags, so was in no position to help.  Boy was I wrong, the woman began lecturing the mother about how she should never drag her child by the leg and that she is abusing her child by doing so.  The mother to her credit just told the woman to leave her alone and continued on with the two screaming children.  But the women followed her basically telling her what a bad mother she was being and she should respect her children more.  Luckily at this point the daughter got over her tantrum and stood up and the mother was able to make a hasty get away from this judgmental woman.

I was left shocked and disturbed by the audacity of this stranger who walked off with a self righteous spring in her step. 

First of all, anyone could have seen she was stressed and struggling.  As anyone with toddlers knows they can be frustrating and non-negotiable.  Basically you have to call their bluff to get them to do anything half the time.  And this mother, not caring about who saw her, called her toddlers bluff.  She did not hurt her child in any way she was just not putting up with the kids’ tantrum.  Most people you would think would have had the same thought I did: let me help you get to where you are going, rather than stopping her when she is clearly in a rush and lecture her about her parenting technique. 

When did it become okay for anyone to do pass judgment like this so publicly?  Honestly this woman could have done the mother a favor by keeping her mouth shut and walking on by.

The Wake Up Call

About a week ago as I was on my way home from work and flipping through my twitter feed when I came across an article written by a women whose marriage has fallen apart: 

 

http://www.mamamia.com.au/relationships/her-husband-left-her/

She talks of how the lack of focus on their marriage and rather on their children and work made a large gap in her relationship with her husband.  She assumed everything was okay because the children were happy and everything was ticking along.  He, however, was not happy.  He was miserable and left.   She has taken part of the responsibility by saying:

 “I stopped telling him he was special and I loved him and wanted to touch him and hold him and listen to him”.

This stopped me in my tracks.

Here was a marriage that on paper seemed to work, they were successful in their careers and having children, but the love was lost. 

This hit very close to home for me.

 

I have just, in the last month, started back at work after taking maternity leave with my first child.  I have noticed my attitude towards my husband in the past month has changed, as I have taken on quite a bit of stress from transitioning from stay at home mom to a working mom.  I guess I could feel myself shutting him off emotionally and physically and focusing inward to harness my own strength.  Also my slight guilt for shipping my son off to day care twice a week (a very reputable one at that, which drains our bank account… but that is another can of worms) comes into play.  When I come home my immediate focus is on my son and taking in everything he is doing till he goes down for the night.  I see now this is totally wrong of me!  I need to go to him for strength and support.  He has been a working dad for almost a year now, how is he handling it and what is his advice?   How am I so blind?

The final statement of this article was what really caused my “light bulb” moment:

 “But most importantly, to all the women who are busy and tired and thinking everything is okay because your children are happy: talk to your husband.  Tell him you love him and listen to what he does each day.  Touch him and hold him and make love to him and make sure he is happy.  I am sure he will reciprocate”.

Yes! Yes! Yes!  I will!  It feels like this random look at this article by this poor women who is going through such a painful point in her life, has totally changed my priorities.   It has also come at a timely point as I am throwing myself back into my career.  I need to put my husband up there in my priorities, he is after all one of the most important people in my life (I did marry him!) and I should treat him as such.

There is a great debate out there at the moment about putting you and your partner before your children.  The more I think about it and especially after reading this article I have to agree.  If you don’t have a strong, loving relationship that acts as the base of your family what example will you set for your children?  Obviously we want to do everything we can to give our children the best start and opportunities in life, but now I think you must be mindful that it is not at the detriment of our marriages or partnerships.  

I want to thank this anonymous woman for her very brave article.  While you maybe working through some very tough things in your marriage, by speaking out, you may have saved me from going down the same road.

My perfect morning in Coogee, NSW.

I love where I live.  I love enjoying Coogee as much as possible and sharing its treasures and secrets with others.  So with that here is my perfect way to spend a beautiful morning in Coogee, NSW.

An early morning swim at the women’s baths in Coogee can be an inspiring and possibly religious experience (if your into that).  First off the venue is stunning.   Placed on the south side of Coogee beach about half way up the headland the pools are built into the cliff side with the waves gentle spilling over the sides.  The warm morning sun mixed with the cool water really gets your blood flowing and awakens you to the day. 

As this is a women only bath (and children as long as the boys are under 13), there are women with their tops off, both sunbathing and swimming which is a very freeing thing to see.  I of course being the wimp I am kept my top on.  Swimming through the water really makes you feel at one with the earth in a very hippy way.  I often find myself just floating looking out to sea in aw of the beauty that is surrounding me.  Looking around there are women doing yoga in solitude up on the grass, powering through the water at a mean stroke or simple raising the heads to the sun and drinking it in.  Once I have had my fill of swimming, I grab a quick shower in the rustic outdoor shower facing the ocean. (I do take my swimsuit off here, so not too wimpy).  

The chatter and conversation amongst the women is of a positive nature and speaking of our coming day activities and the week ahead.  I find that everyone is very open for a chat here, unlike other pools where most everyone puts the blinders on and goes about their business.  The pools are not free and cost a whopping 20 cents per visit to help with the up keep of the showers and grounds.  So if you are a lady looking for a new spot to swim and can spare 20 cents then I recommend you give it a try.

After my swim and wonder back down to Coogee to get my coffee hit.  There are so many places to choice from, and knowing what rent must be like they have to very good to last more than one summer season in Coogee.  Currently one of my favorites is The Courtyard.  It is a relax café with spacious seating tucked into what use to be a little shopping arcade.  They have used the space wisely with retractable roof panels that can shield their patrons from rain or baking sun.  The use of a couple of big, long, wooden tables amongst the smaller ones allows for larger groups that won’t completely invade the whole space of the café.  Creation of a coffee bar at the front is great, as those of us just after a take away coffee don’t have to awkwardly stand in the café space but can wait on the footpath and watch their coffees being made.

            Of course I wouldn’t be speaking of this place if the coffee weren’t great.  It is and reasonable priced given the proximity to the beach.  On a day like today I can’t resist grabbing one of the papers on hand and sitting down for breakfast.  The menu is not your typical Aussie café selection.  There is everything from baked eggs, to breast quesadilla, to an assortment of toast and breads.  I go for the Courtyard Breakfast, which is a poached egg on sour dough bread with salmon wrapped asparagus and hollandaise sauce.  I can easily spend an hour to two here reading, sipping my cappuccino and enjoying my breakfast.  I never feel rushed either, the staff just wants you to sit and enjoy yourself.  Once I finish, feeling relaxed with my dose of “me” time, I stroll back up the hill refreshed and back into my chaotic reality.

The drop off

Today I dropped my 11 month old son off for his first day of daycare.  I found myself quite emotional afterwards even though I have been preparing myself for it for over a month.  Don’t get me wrong I believe daycare, as a whole, is a great thing for our children.  The socialization it provides cannot be duplicated at home with mom or dad.  I think the thing that got to me, was that this ends a chapter in my life that provided me with surprising joy and challenges. 

I remember back a year ago being 9 months pregnant still going to work fulltime and trying desperately to get my head around taking a whole 12 months off work to stay home and take care of a baby I hadn’t even met yet.  It was overwhelming and terrifying.  Plus I had such a great stake and pride in my work it would be hard to separate from it all.

Then it happened my little man came into the world.

 

Not to get all gushy about it, but my world changed and I had this little guy whose whole world was me (and dad of course).   Don’t get me wrong we had our ups and downs, as well as hide in the laundry moments.  The dependence on me was hard and frustrating at first, but the love that came with it was undeniable and consuming. 

Watching him grow and learn was fascinating.  He also became more independent and I guess that is what made today hard.  He is independent enough now not to rely solely on me (and dad of course), I can drop him off now for hours and he wont need me for a breastfeed, burb or pat.  And that is what I am emotional about, the closing of the chapter of my baby’s infant life and all his dependences on mom (and dad).  This brings with it many good things though like sleeping through the night, eating only 3 meals a day, lots more interaction and cuddles.  It’s not all bad that is for sure.

But I still find myself here sitting at the cusp of going back to work, back to that world that I was so overwhelmed to leave a year ago and all I can think is how much I would like to rewind the clock and do it all again.