Baby Blues...

This blog has been quite hard for me to write... It's the 'serious' side of me that rarely gets to rear her head.  Firstly, I'd like to stress that the following is no reflection on anyone, but myself.  Okay... deep breath... lets go!


I caught up with some girlfriends for dinner on Friday night... Two already have children and one, Sam, is newly pregnant.



I'm totally stoked for Sammy... and I know the little jellybean (actually it's more like a baby now - with a massive penis?) will have more love and happiness in his/her life than he/she could ever hope for.  I also know that it's not the last time Sammy and I will throw back a few coldies down the Suffo!   I guess Sam and I have quite a bit in common... We both love what we do and have focused a lot of our time and energy on it... We're honest and open people and have some great discussions plus we have similar idea's on parenting - I can already hear all the mother's out there saying it's easy to have ideas but putting them into practice is another story.   


Sam was my drinking and smoking buddy... She was one of the few that didn't have kids, so we related to the shit a married childless woman cops on a daily basis.  In fact, she was so sick of people constantly asking 'when are you gonna have a baby', she'd worked out the perfect response... 'when Bruce stopped f-ing me in the arse!'  That one always worked a treat!


That night, the four of us had a great meal, a few laughs and shared a couple of bottles of wine (actually I should correct myself here and say for the most part, there was little 'sharing' of the wine - it was primarily downed by yours truly).


Through no fault of my 'with child' girlfriends, after I'd gotten home and gone to bed, I started to feel pretty isolated, inadequate and for probably the first time in my life a little immature.  I've always been the 'good times' girl... often overindulging in social situations.  Although, I've never woken up the next morning and thought, I probably looked like a real dickhead last night.  Truth be told, I wasn't that inebriated... I was certainly tipsy though.  Even when truly drunk I maintain a certain self control and I was far from slurring and falling over.


So, yesterday I told you I'm not an over thinker... And 99.5% of the time I'm not.  I should also explain again that it wasn't anything that my girlfriends said or did, so I'm positive this feeling, was all in my mind.  I'm pretty full of self confidence  - by that I mean, I know who I am... my strengths and my faults so when either are pointed out I'm totally okay with it (body issues are a different case altogether - call me fat and feel the wrath).   The thing I guess that caught me off guard was this feeling of being beneath people... It's kind of a new feeling for me and I didn't like it one bit!


Then last night, as I was continuing through the ongoing saga of reading Shantaram (fab book, awesome writer but fuck it's so big it hurts my arms to hold it up), and I came across a passage that sums up the experience completely...


The main character is living in the slums of Bombay and the girl he is in love with but hasn't seen, for sake of his pride, the entire time he has inhabited his dirty little square in poor mans land, has dropped by for a visit.  He feels her looking at his 'hut' and the few possessions he has and for the first time he sees them in her eyes.  He feels a little resentment and shame... the things he had been so thankful for, no longer had their glow.  Then he realises that 'wanting my house to be bigger or brighter or grander than it was had been in my mind, not hers.  She wasn't judging.'


Which brings me to what it was that I thought they were seeing...  I thought that my mates had 'outgrown' me... That I was relegated to 'drunken Karls',  that I needed to grow up and get my priorities straight and lastly, that I had become a second class citizen because I don't have a child.  Of course, it was all in my mind (well I fucken well hope so, cause if it's not that case consider yourself friendship dumped).  But, at the time while I thought I was seeing them, seeing me full of faults... It wasn't actually their judgement I saw, but my own.  Make sense?


Yesterday, I talked about things going over my head... But, I think it's actually more than that.  I think because I do know myself well, I don't notice or question the passing comments people might make.  They generally roll off like water off a ducks back.  Sometimes, I think, when you do notice yourself analysing something that someone has said, you should stop and put some thought into your thought process - are you reacting with self doubt?  Perhaps its an area in which your confidence could use a boost?  If it's struck a nerve, I believe there's always a reason why.  The main point I'm trying to make is that (most of the time - and there are always exceptions to the rule) it's not them... it's you!


So, although there was nothing 'said' to me, I still had this niggling feeling... I came home and couldn't sleep... my mind was working overtime.  Eventually I cried myself to sleep.


On the way home Sunday, Micko asked what had upset me on Friday night.  He said, 'Do you want to have a baby?  Is that it?', I started crying again... and replied, 'No... that's just the problem.'


And for me... that's my achilles heel.  Right now, I'm so not interested in having children, but I feel myself kind of shutting down around those that do - due to my own insecurities... What are these insecurities, you ask.  Well, I guess I can put it down to this... Does not wanting my own children, not now and quite possibly not ever, make me a bad person?  Does it make me any lesser person than those that do?   Do those with kids think that I'm completely selfish?    Does it mean that eventually there will be a great divide between my friends and I?


Of course, the answer is a big fat NO... at least I hope it is!  So, rather than let these thoughts take over my mind creating more self doubt and further unnecessary tears, I'll just keep affirming to myself that it's okay to want the life I have... and I'll fake it, till I make it!  Either that, or I'll succumb to peer pressure, change my mind and get knocked up.  Joking!  Joking!  


I'm not writing off having kids forever... They are just not right for me right now... So take this as a warning, and don't approach the subject anytime soon - you might cop an earful and an arse fucking response (well, Sammy has no use for that comment anymore, so I think I might just be stealing it - thanks hot mama).

The Portacot Incident

For those of you thinking of asking, when am I going to be in the family way? At this time in my life I find myself too-ing and fro-ing from 'bring it on' to 'fuck it off'. Usually when I'm having a moment of cluckiness, imagining what life would be like with a cute baby around, the universe magically reminds why I'm not ready. For example: I'm holding a baby and start picturing myself holding my own baby... then 'achoo', the baby sneezes and there's a big bit of green snot strewn from the nostril to the lip (if there's one thing I can't handle - I can't even talk about - it's snot!! Snot is to me what Kryptonite is to Superman)

So at this very moment, if you were to ask, I could give you a big, fat, honest, not anytime soon!

Right now for instance. I was in the spare room making up the bed for Mum and Dad's impending visit. The portacot is still set up from having friends and family with youngsters staying. So, I make the bed and decide to dismantle the cot because it takes up too much room.


I take the change table off, pull the baby mobile down and unstrap the mattress. I then open the flap down the bottom, push the button and pull the mechanism that is supposed to close it up - like an umbrella. Well, fuck me! I'm fucked if I can get the fucking thing to close!I grab the instructions out of the cupboard and notice it says 'push button on side rails to close'... Okay, so I do that. Still, it won't close! So, I glance back and notice 'release button on mechanism needs to be depressed'... okay, I press the button. Yet again, no go! I push the side buttons again, the mechanism button pops out... I push the mechanism button again, the side buttons pull out. Suddenly I feel like I'm in some kind of fucked up sitcom where the Dad can't close the portcot and has his legs and arms flailing around, yelling TV friendly obscenities at the portacot... then the Mum comes and closes it up in one swift, graceful movement and says 'what was so hard about that?' (cue audience laugh).


My versions, however, was not PG rated... It went a little something like this, and you'll have to add grunting, teeth gritting and groaning to get the full effect:


"For fucks sake! Fucking go down you bastard! Fuuuuuuuuck! You motherfucka! I AM pushing the fucking button! How the fuck am I supposed to push the button and the other button and pull at the same fucking time you fucking arsehole?? ARGH! Fuck this!!!"


Then I punch the cot, throw it to the ground, say 'Fuck you motherfucka' and storm out of the room to take a breather. I need to calm down big time... So I sit here and type and breathe.


Now, I'm calm enough to go back and give it another go. I need to be in the right head space to attack this scenario. Ding! Ding! I'm off for round two!Okay... so I got it closed this time round. Figured what I was doing wrong and calmly and rationally solved the problem... not an issue!


Now just to pack it all in the bag.... Hopefully it's not like packing a tent up cause I'm shit at that too! God! It's so portable when it's in the bag! This thing isn't so bad, hell, it's even a bit cute. And now, all of a sudden, we're back to phase one and I find myself pondering once more, 'Maybe I'd like be a Mum'... well, one day.

Growing up!

One of my worst fears, is the fear of growing up. I've tried to delay the inevitable as much as possible but I feel it slowly creeping in like a scene out of 'The Grudge'. Everyday I notice another grey hair or wrinkle that surely wasn't there the day before. My face used to have skin like a babies bum, it's now slowly sagging and strangely discolouring!

But it's not just the superficial that's aging... I feel like my personality is also aging. A feeling I'm totally not used to - I think I've heard it refered to as maturing (the pleasant way of saying you're getting boring).

Why just the other day I was doing some loads of washing after having some visitors stay a few nights. While folding the bedding I suddenly thought to myself - "I'm a master at folding the fitted sheet"! When exactly was it that I stopped scrunching it up into a ball and shoving it in above the roughly folded doona cover? It couldn't have been too long ago. I remember opening my cupboard at Barwon Heads and having the balls of fitted sheets on the verge of bursting out each and everytime.

Over the past couple of years (mainly during my time in Vic - 'cause my house in Byron and Brunswick Heads were occassionally 'surface' clean) I've certainly lifted my game in the cleanliness stakes! These days I rarely have a day when I wouldn't be ashamed of the state of my house... I could even happily have people just drop in! In the past, you'd have to give me a weeks notice so I could get the mammoth pile of clean, but unfolded clothes off the floor in most rooms.

I remember the days when I'd sweep or vacumn once a year!
When I'd go out each and every Friday and Saturday night...
When I ate take away, sang frequently and danced every single weekend.
Now, I sweep almost daily, weekends are spent at home (still with copius amounts of piss though), I rarely gorge on KFC, I sing when I'm driving and I might dance at a wedding once a year.
What a travesty!

And then it's the baby thing. Only a couple of years ago almost all (around 99%) of my girlfriends where childless. These days that high percentage is taking a tumble. In fact, today I'm heading out to pick up a portacot for my visiting guests!

Talk with mates quickly switches from where are we going out, what drugs are we going to take, are we going to go to Splendour this year? To... when you have kids this, and when you have kids that... Or so and so is starting to crawl, I've finished breastfeeding, and I've just had my first period. The conversation is totally stacato with their eyes darting here there and everywhere or interupted by a 'Mummies talking' comment.

Suddenly, I'm the minority! And even more so due to the fact that I'm not sure I even want to enter babydom (making me a slight evil and insane individual)! Hell... I'm already married and have my own house, I even clean and cook for Christs sake! I can't get much more adult (sorry mature) than that!

Who knows... perhaps I'll come acustomed to 'maturing' and I won't find it so dull and boring. In the meantime... I'm going to party like it's 1999 (seemed like that came and went so quickly), pick up my act in the singing stakes, go get HJ's for lunch today and chuck iTunes on random for a dance in the office. If it's true that 'you're only as old as you feel'..... catch you round! I'm off for a shot of botox and to make myself some fairy bread!