Sometimes I get asked what is so different about New Zealand that it was really worth financially crippling ourselves for 2-3 years and waving goodbye to every friend and family member we had in order to move all the way out here. It’s not like it’s a really hot country after all. The language is the same and most of the cultural differences are fairly subtle on a day-to-day basis. We had absolutely no ties or links to New Zealand. We had never even been. It is in the ‘Western world’ (despite being about as far East as you can get) so it must be just another cog in the Big Rat Race, right? (Someone actually said that to me the other day). It’s extremely secluded (we actually like that) and people love to remind us how inconvenient it must be now we’re unable to just pop off to European cities at the drop of a hat (which we never did anyway).
So why make such a drastic choice? Continue reading
I try to avoid getting drawn into the commentary when some notable figure does something normal, like have a baby, because it seems to add weight to the perception that these people are something beyond what they really are: humans. In reality, of course, something like childbirth is one of life’s greatest equalisers (more so than guns!) and a truly humbling moment in nature. Whether you are a 14 year old girl or a 34 year old woman, whether you are doing it alone or happily married, whether you are a street urchin or a princess of the realm. In that one snapshot in time you are equals, and you are very much sailing the same boat. I think that fact is quite wonderful.
However, I’m about to make an exception with this post.
Blogging has not been happening much lately. Soz. This is partly because the time I normally find to write blogs has instead been spent, unapologetically unproductively, gazing into the sweet, innocent eyes of my scrumptious little nursling. Secondly it is because any time I do get at the PC has been spent working on a separate writing project, and will be for some time. And lastly it is because each time I have recently been compelled to write anything here, it would have been more glum, self-pitying drivel, in a similar vein to some of my recent posts. I figured if I kept on bumming everyone out then nobody would ever come back, and I wouldn’t blame ’em.
No, I’m not depressed, despite on some shitty days feeling sure I must be. I have way too much hope for the future for that. But with a cocktail of those capricious post-partum hormones and with certain aspects to life being pretty full on right now (though when aren’t they?) I guess I’ve just found myself swingin’ a bit low at times lately. Continue reading
Apologies in advance for the tirade of pathetic self-pity that is to follow. I just feel like everything is hopeless and pointless and I need somewhere to spill the contents of my aching heart today. Continue reading
I read the following Guardian article – Since when did obedience become the epitome of good parenting? – so I could see what all the fuss was about after perhaps a 9th or 10th Facebook friend shared it and hailed its awesomeness. It is based on the work of Alfie Kohn, a renowned parenting guru and all time favourite author of many fellow ‘crunchy’ parents.
At first I found myself nodding along, as I often do when reading these evangelical parenting articles. A lot of it seemed to make good, solid sense. The piece focuses on the topic of obedience in children, and addresses it as a negative. It entirely correlates the “Do as you’re told” mentality with enforced ‘mindless compliance’, and suggests it is natural for securely attached children, who have their voices heard and valued, to push the boundaries and to be what many people would describe as ‘disobedient’. Continue reading
The 16 days since Moses’ birth have raced by at an alarming speed. My beautiful little boy is already over 1lb heavier than his birth weight, and changing fast. This babymoon has been a very different experience to my previous three, which were spent in midwinter England, surrounded by snow, festive celebrations and family. This time, the weather is warm, it’s not Christmas and I have no family within thousands of miles. It has been odd. Sad at times. I spent most of one day crying in the first week, when everything felt like shit and I was convinced I’d hit rock bottom. But of course it was the hormones, and I resumed my seat upon Cloud 9 a few hours later. Continue reading
Yes! I’ve had the baby. And at ‘only’ five (well, technically six as it happened shortly after midnight) days overdue, I’ve had the baby in quite a timely fashion for me, too. Before I launch into the birth, I am going to start the story with a brief update on the situation with immigration I talked about in my last post, because the two things are kind of linked. Continue reading
Well, it seems there was never any chance of a quiet or restful end to my pregnancy!
My due date was yesterday, and unlike most pregnant women at this stage I am currently praying that every niggle, contraction and surge in pelvic pressure I am getting is not a sign that birth is around the corner just yet, as much as my terribly aching body desperately wants this to be over now. This is because we’ve had some news. Some pretty major news in fact.
We wanted to wait until we had final, complete confirmation of all of this before announcing the conclusion of what has been a long, difficult and emotional journey, but naturally it has not happened quite as we wanted or expected, and I guess I have now reached the ‘write or implode’ stage about it all. Continue reading
Humidity’s rising, but it’s not raining men, and if it were they would surely run a mile the moment they set eyes upon this waddling hot mess, for I am now 32 weeks pregnant and not tolerating the heat very well in my first ever stint as a summer baby grower.
It’s okay really, just as long as I don’t, y’know, leave the house or turn the oven on or let the house get above 28 degrees, or do anything besides lying somewhere shaded, groaning and fanning myself. Sorry kids, fun mama has left the building this summer. And I am acutely aware that, as my seasoned Kiwi friends are only to keen to remind me, by far the hottest and most humid chunk of the year is still approaching in line to nicely coincide with the final 8 weeks of my pregnancy. Wooo! Continue reading
I have not really been compelled to blog in the last few weeks, or rather I have, but everything I would have liked to write about lately has been too personal to talk about here, and to write about anything else would have seemed dishonest. I have regressed into that glazed-eyed, painted-smiled state in which I feel as though I am leading a double life: my life as presented to others, even those closest to me, and my life as it is lived internally, which is a secret. I guess I find it hard to be honest with the screen, or anybody for that matter, when I am in this frame of mind.
Today, though, I did feel that familiar finger-twitching return as a blog post etched itself organically into my mind, for today is six years to the day since my mother died, and this morning I found myself wondering what I should do. I now live 12,000 miles away so I cannot visit her grave. Should I post a Facebook status? I wondered. You know, the obligatory tribute. Think of some fluffy words to say and say them, throw in a heart-shaped emoticon for good measure. Remind her how much she’s missed, as though our only medium of communication might be this commercial social media machine. Perhaps I should change my profile picture to one of her, or one of us. I could write another poem. Therapeutic. I wrote one last year; I have had plenty of new thoughts since. Or shall I write a blog post in tribute to her? You can never express your love and grief too much, after all. Continue reading