I do think it is one of those situations where I am spread too thin and feel a little bit all over the show.
Trying to be good about keeping the blog up and alive is sometimes hard work.
I love blogging, but I prefer to write when I feel like it rather than when I have to. The problem with “feeling like it” is that you sort of need to be in the zone, which right now I am not right now – the result is that I start posts and get a few paragraphs in and then lose the steam … and they lie there forlorn staring and me, begging to be finished.
I need to still write the article for the magazine, so need to get into the head space for that (again a bigger deal for me than for them no doubt).
I need to still clean out my bag – as I get so frustrated every time I have to find something in there.
Today I got myself into a total tizz looking for keys, inside my bag. After about 10 minutes of going ape-shit because I could not find my keys inside my stupid bag …. I then discovered them lying next to my laptop, on my desk ….. where I put them this morning …….so I would not have to scratch in my bag …. to find them.
I heard a radio article this afternoon as I got in the car, and the bloke was talking about being a responsible parent and that the best thing you could do for your child, was give them the gift of time.
I thought it was the gift of life, but I have been mistaken before.
Darryl, the presenter, went on to explain that you needed the time to sit and just listen to your child and hear what they have to say.
Which of course makes me feel all the more guilty as I really lack patience and often cut them off with a screeching: “just get to the point already…” ………….I mean seriously, how much crap must I actually listen to before you get to the part where you say what you need to!!
But on the more sane hand …..
I am really enjoying the photography part and the other blog.
But that again takes a lot of work and of course more of my attention away from being able to listen to my children and even Kennith. Trying to balance life and my hobby is challenging, and I have barely got started.
I am not a super-good photographer or even super-average, so I find the shoots quite stressful because I want to ensure that the “client” gets some good shots and I do not fek it all up. I really get to be a totally stressed cabbage on the day.
Once the shoot is over, I am always excited to see the images – and more often than not I am more excited than depressed – probably because I expect so little ….. so that’s a good thing, low expectations and all, very hard to be disappointed if you start really low …… right?
I have been doing shoots outside which is much more difficult and requires more technical aptitude than shooting in a studio.
There is shifting light, and usually a giant sun in the sky which is either creeping in to the shot, or creates such heavy lights and darks that it becomes almost impossible to get a good shot. And I am trying to take photographs of a child (and keep them unposed) so said child is running around like they are on E or something and that just adds to the chaos – I am thinking about taking along a little tranquiliser … not sure if it is for me or the children …. or the parents.
But that being said, I am really enjoying it and learning more each week.
Could I do this for a living? I am not sure, and I think there are too many people trying to carve a living out of it – so for now it is a hobby that I really enjoy, and let’s see how it goes moving forward.
On Saturday one my the friends, whom I hold most dear, Judith, agreed to let me do some maternity/pregnancy shots with her and her husband, Alistair.
Her baby Benjamin was due on the 25 March, and last week her GYNE said that the baby’s head had engaged and that he couldn’t even measure the head, which meant that it appeared that birth was imminent.
I was excited for her and disappointed that Benjamin might arrive and make the maternity part of the shoot a thing of the past. (yes I realise how self-absorbed I am…)
But he hung in there and Judith and Alistair and I frolicked around in 39 degree heat to take some photographs. It was so hot it was unbelievable.
I loved photographing her.
Sure I took a long time and took nearly a thousand photos, but there were so many nuances of her that I could see through the lens that I wanted to capture, that I ended up taking much too many.
Part of it was also that we were chatting and laughing in so many of the photos, that the results involved open mouths and silly faces, and some of my feet because I was laughing instead of focussing.
It was great.
Judith had her Benjamin this morning – and she said that she started going in to labour on Sunday midday.
She got through labour and by the time she asked for the epidural, they said “er, it is a bit late for that!” and then she panicked.
I put it down to her good manners. She did not want to be rude by asking and thought she might just wait until they offered. There is a lesson there regarding drugs and pain relief.
So my hero and deliciously gorgeous friend Judith got through labour on her ace, without so much as a headache tablet – how cool is she? Very cool, much cooler than me.
I went to visit her earlier today and got to see Benjamin who was all of 7 hours old. It is funny how new born babies make me cry. They just do.
But I was so happy and overwhelmed for Judith, that she had survived her day, and had pushed this guy out of her nether regions.
Of course I got to lie on her hospital bed as we were screaming with laughter as she was recanting the tales of the “labour ward” – I love the fact that motherhood has not changed her …. much……yet.
While there, the nurse came in to ask if she wanted to be part of the “bath demonstration” today or tomorrow. Jude thought about it and opted for tomorrow.
For those who are not familiar, basically the “bath demonstration” is when all the moms who have just had babies go and sit around – usually with very pained expressions on their faces – in the nursery area of the Maternity Ward and watch how the Matron bathes a baby with absolute skill and does it in about 7 minutes.
You then get to repeat the procedure. Problem is that your muscles are exhausted, you are highly emotional and you have a tiny wriggly person who you are afraid of breaking.
So you go through this process and it is awful. You pretty much spend 45 – 60 minutes trying to bath and dress this baby. By the time you are finished, you are so traumatised and exhausted and feel like such a pathetic mother that you need an ante-depressant and someone to pat you on your hand.
The problem is that you compare yourself to the Matron, who does this with about the same feeling as you do to change a toilet roll.
Anyway I made that mistake when I had Connor.
Unfortunately I also did it on day 4 or what ever and I was seriously in a case of “baby blues” or affectionately called the “warm up to full blown depression” and I tried to bath this little wrinkled child and dry him, and get the nappy on and the special outfit I had chosen.
By the time Kennith arrived to collect me, he might as well have put me into the wheel chair and pushed me from Maternity straight to the Psychiatric wing.
By Georgia I learnt my lesson, and asked them if they could just bath her – for all three days I was there. I figured I would learn when I got home.
With Isabelle, well clearly they stopped asking at that point! But they did ask to use her as the “demonstration baby” – even better.
So my wisdom that I imparted to Judes today was to ring for the nurse a bit later and say “please can you bath my baby, I had him this morning and he has not had a wash…” and then proceed to ask them to do it each day. I said that if they looked at her like “well honey you need to learn” she should just tell them that her mom is a widwife and staying with them, and she will have plenty of time to learn at home.
Judith, welcome, welcome to this little band of demented people who call themselves mothers – here we are – some of us more sane than others.
If you thought life was a bit strange before, wait until you can sit and discuss the colour of your child’s faeces over dinner, and think nothing of it! There are even forums that chat about this.
It’s a brave new world chick, it’s a brave new world and welcome to it.
You have already set the bar high by going through what must be one of the hardest test of endurance without drugs (albeit not by your own choice) – and chick you survived.
But I did like the way you said…”next time straight c-section!”
