7 more sleeps until Christmas

     So, the Christmas season is in full swing.  I'm still not used to a warm Christmas. I know, it's freezing back home, people would trade ice and snow for sandals and sun.  Fine, let's trade.  I walked by a fresh Christmas tree display today and I leaned in, hoping to get a good sensory kick start from the smell of the evergreen and.......... nothing.  I could smell the food from the restaurant next door, but the tree didn't smell at all.   I kind of felt like the kid from the Polar Express who couldn't hear the jingle bell.  

      The house is mostly decorated, the presents mostly wrapped.  There is baking to be done, and carols to sing tomorrow evening.  I have spent the last 3 weeks doing holiday activities with my kids at the cafe and have a mind to attempt mini ginger bread houses on Tuesday. 

 Last night was Greg's work party and Nora had a rare babysitter watching over here while we had some adult time away.   The side effect of our adult night out was a very unsettled little girl today.  She spent most of the day within arms reach of me and most preferably on my lap.  She's much better and finally asleep this evening, but I'm hoping she grows out of this because I would like to be able to go on more dates alone with my husband in the coming year.  

  

    I was eating lunch with Nora settled into my lap, sandwich in one hand, the paper spread out on the table.  The weather was typical Melbourne 4 seasons in one day: one minute sunny, one minute cloudy, one minute rainy, etc.  You get used to this country after a while, (I still hate getting caught in the rain) but there are some things you just don't get used to.  I found myself in tears, holding onto my daughter, thankful to be where I am and who I am.  

     Yesterday's news, today's sorrow.  I'm sure that in the states it's just another news blip, but there was a boat full of refugees that got caught in some horrible weather off of Christmas Island.  Caught in the weather and caught on the absolute wrong side of the island, 4 meter swells, razor sharp cliffs.  30 people dead, 44 saved, estimates of there having been more than a hundred passengers.  The boat was full of refugees from Iran and Iraq.  People who had paid a life's worth of savings to get a flight to Indonesia, and then to pay for passage across the water with no guarantee that Australia would even let them in.  These people started their journey trying to find a better life and ended it clinging to the wreckage of a flimsy wooden boat.  The residents of the island were throwing life jackets and floats, but otherwise they were powerless.  It was a case of the sea being so dangerous that to attempt a rescue from land would mean certain death for the rescuer and the refugee.  They saw young children, "babies" (3/4 years old),  holding onto the wreckage, screaming, and there was nothing they could do.  The Navy finally got a boat out to try picking up the people who weren't being smashed against the rocks.

The irony is that there is a huge debate going on here about these refugee boats and Christmas Island is an offshore detention/ processing center for the "boat " people that have been arriving on almost a daily basis in Australian waters.  So many people trying to find a better life away from war and poverty.  

There is talk of a refugee center being established in Indonesia so that Australia can process these people before they take pay through the nose for unsafe passage to our shores.  One side blames the other for the increase in boats.  Some Australians don't want these people; they don't want any more foreigners changing the country that they know.  There is already blame being cast as to why they didn't see the boat on radar farther out (all of the reports say that it wasn't picked up and was sighted off the coast at 5am in the morning - too close to prevent the tragedy).  

  So, I held onto Nora, and I fretted over those children lost to the sea.  The children who will never proudly wear a sun hat and uniform to their first day of prep, the children who will never apply sunscreen as if their life depended on it.  Children who will never swing in the park and sit on their mom's lap in a cafe enjoying an espresso cup full of foamed milk designed to indoctrinate them into the coffee culture.  Never watch Australian Play School on ABC. Never kick a footy.  Never dance to the Wiggles or see Santa arriving on a fire truck. Children who will never have that "something better" that their parents desperately wanted for them.

    It was so easy for me, in comparison, to move here.  So easy for them to accept me, so easy for me to blend into this culture. It's heartbreaking to think about how difficult it is for so many people.  There but for the grace of God go I.  The Australia that I know well is a melting pot and I know that not everyone wants to keep these people away.  But it is so hard for these refugees.  It's heartbreaking.

   I didn't have much Christmas spirit this season to begin with.  But I'll be glad when the festive season is over and I can settle back into normal life.   My sweet, wonderful, privileged, normal life.

     

The Mommy Bloggers

     Spoiler alert........ I don't think I will be using this blog to pass judgement on the state of child rearing in the western world.  Nor will I be using it to put my own child rearing skills on a pedestal or to criticize what I see other mothers doing in the park.  Now that I'm out of the haze of Nora's first year, I think I'll get back to what I meant this blog to be: postcards from the edge of the world.
  

     I will, however, sometimes write about my experiences as a mother in order to show the contrast between where I came from and what's happening here.  I can condense these first 18 months into a bullet list for you:

- 4 nights in hospital after a natural birth with non drugs, (4 nights! And this is standard for a private hospital.  The public system would have given me two nights but I wouldn't have paid a cent for those 2 nights)

 - Midwife care in the hospital 24 hours a day.  Daily visits from the ob gyn.

 - A home visit from the maternal child health nurse, (the MCH) during my first week at home

 - fortnightly appointments until Nora was 8 weeks, then monthly until 6 months, next was at a year and all vaccinations were given by the MCH free (we had to go to our GP for one set because of our travel schedule but we only paid for the visit, vaccinations were billed to medicare).  Her next visit is next week at 18 months and that will be her last set of vaccinations until she's 4.

 - The Australian government pays you once all of the vaccinations are complete (!)

 - The Australian Government gives a $5000 baby bonus paid fortnightly until it runs out

 - I missed this one, but the government just instituted paid maternity leave for working mothers

 - The government pays you money if you don't meet a certain income threshold, making it easier for a single income family to have one parent staying at home.  It's not a lot, but it helps.

- There is a lot of support for breast feeding moms and The Australian Breastfeeding Association has monthly get togethers and a free help line, both of which I made use of.  It's also another great place to connect with other moms. I could write tons more about this but I promised myself that this would be bullet points, not a mommy blog.

 - At 3 months, The MCH organized a formal mother's group for the moms in her care who had babies roughly Nora's age.  There were about 9 of us in the beginning.  The MCH ran the group for 6 weeks and then we were on our own.  15 months later and dozens of house visits, cafe sits, birthday parties and the like, 7 of us are meeting up in the park tomorrow so we can catch up with one of the girls who had to go back to work.  One of us has already had baby #2.  This group has been amazing.

 - at the first signs of post natal depression, I was referred to a special group run by the council for moms having difficulties. Medicare paid for doctor's visits and follow ups.

 - Day care in the inner west is scarce, but we were able to get Nora into the Bulldogs Center for one day a week: $70/ day includes meals and care from 7:30am - 6:30pm (but most days she is only there 8 hours).  This center is subsidized by the Western Bulldogs football team.  The staff is amazing and Nora loves it.

 - The inner west is full of mom friendly businesses and cafes.  It's also full of creative people who happen to be moms.  I started coordinating the children's activities at a local cafe where I was a patron and the ladies there have become some of my closest friends.  Having this small job to go to for a few hours a week, being able to bring Nora with me, I think it saved my life at one point.

      Universal health care has been great and all of the services available to new moms and to primary school aged children are amazing.  I'm not sure what it would have been like to be back in the US.  Some things worse, some better, I'm sure.  I try not to compare, but I do think in some cases if women in the US knew what was available here they would riot in the streets.  

   Having a baby is tough enough under the best circumstances.  It's been hard being here and having all of my family and friends 10,000 miles away.  Skype and e-mail is good, but it's just not the same.  I wish I could have enjoyed Nora's first months as much as I enjoy her now.  It's been amazing to have this time with her.  I'm still figuring out how to get back to real work, but thanks to my husband, we're not in a rush and I still have some time to figure things out.

 And through it all, one of the main things I realized was this:  I do have family here.  I have my daughter.  She's amazing and I get to see her every day.  Who would have thought it?

The Inner West

     Did I ever tell you how much I like my neighborhood?  I love my neighborhood!  I do not, however, recommend moving somewhere when you are 8 months pregnant.  I also do not recommend taking the first decent house in desperation to get out of the unfriendly suburb where you are living.

   Yarraville is located to the west of the Melbourne CBD, near the West Gate bridge and south of Footscray.  It's a hop, skip and a jump to the lovely beach front suburb of Williamstown and best of all the neighbors actually talk to each other!
   So, I've only lived here now for a year and half (and during that time had another move to Kingsville, the mini suburb right next to Yarraville which is walking distance to the shops in Yarraville, Seddon and Footscray, which my mom refers to as "Footscary") but it feels more like home, (Brooklyn NY home, I mean), than anywhere else I've visited in my three years here.
    It's got a cool 5th avenue before the economic crisis in Brooklyn feel and it's very mom friendly.  When you don't have access to a car during the day yo can still shop and get a decent, (ok, more than decent) cup of coffee.
    And the playgrounds rock!
 
     But what I love the most are the remnants of what this area used to be.  The hidden houses in Seddon that date back to the 1860's, the grand dame mansions on Somerville road that now bear witness to thousands of trucks ferrying goods and containers back and forth from business to docks.  The hidden details, the sudden view of things past when you turn a corner, the hidden deco gems, the gardens, the echoes of a once proud area trying to shake off the deisel exhaust.  More on that below.........

     I think that Melbourne needs a lesson in town planning.  Who let them destroy this place?  No one who came from here, that's for sure.  The person who said "go west trucks, and prosper", probably went home to his lovely house in the shady eastern suburbs.
     The good news is that they are going to build a tunnel farther north to get most of the trucks out of the residential areas. But that's still 10 years away. really, the only drawback of this wonderful place is that it is the shortest route between two points and the busy roads are BUSY.  I lived in NYC for 16 years.  I'm used to the traffic. But I really think that this city needs to do more to protect what little is left of this place.
    Hmmm, maybe a degree in town planning is in my blood.  But, they would HATE me and my big mouth.  No one wants to be told that what they think works just fine for everyone not living in Yarraville is wrong for the people who do live here.  At least, not in my accent.

   I'll hopefully post a photo essay soon of all the things I love.  Once I figure out how to post photos......


 

  

Kickboxing is cathartic........

     I've been doing a lot of fake shopping lately.  The internet is so good for this kind of thing.  I go online, pick out what I want, fill my cart, then shut my computer and walk away.  It's not as good as real shopping, but it's much cheaper.  It's spring here now, but since it's almost October I feel like I should be buying fall clothes.  I imagine what size Nora will be next winter and I start browsing.  Some places will even ship to Australia now but mostly it's just for fun.  I did the same thing when I got married.  I had a registry with Liberty of London; I picked out every imaginable item I needed for my ultimate Liberty home and put it on the registry.  Alas, no purple boxes arrived at my door.  The wedding registry manager finally contacted me and I admitted the truth.  It was my fantasy registry, I told him.  Just a fantasy.

  I met up with a few ex pat moms last Friday morning at a  beach playground in Albert Park.  We were optimistic about the weather, but spring has taken a long time to get here this year and we were a bit windblown.  It was lovely to finally be able to complain about things without offending someone!  Aussies can get so touchy.  We just miss things like cheap books and children's shoes that cost less a day's pay.
I made Toll House cookie bars from my secret stash.  Someone else made Rice Krispie treats using marshmallows she brought over from the US.  We shocked a few Aussie parents with our vehement agreement that Australian Target is just not as good as American Target.  It was a good morning.

    Nora walks everywhere now. I had to get her some sturdy shoes so that she could walk outside easily without me worrying too much about her stepping on something.  It's a good thing she's very bouncy.  Her legs bruise easily, (like mine do) and they are covered in the souvenirs of her toddling adventures.
She loves to draw and she loves to sing.  The other night in the bath she sang about a thousand verses of "The wheels on the bus" which I can only differentiate because how she says "round and round" and how she says "beep, beep, beep" sound very different.  My husband let this go on and on because he takes his computer into the bathroom so he can catch up on the news while she plays, (and turns into a prune).  On Saturday she hid the bath plug in my closet.  I looked everywhere else but there, which sent my husband on a wild goose chase for a 40mm bath plug at 7:30pm on a Saturday.  Did I mention that the ex pat moms also complained about everything here closing early on the weekends?  I found the plug Sunday morning.  Opened the closet and there it was.

     So, I've moved on from Pilates to Kickboxing.  I'm slowly getting fit enough to climb the monkey bars with my step kids, (which I did yesterday) but I don't think could do swing outs for 5 hours straight the way I used to.  It's a slow road back, for sure.  It feels really good to hit things. Very cathartic.
I'm having good days and still some bad days but it does feel good to get some real exercise.  Nora watches me and I have no idea what she's thinking as I punch away.  She doesn't even know that I miss my old life sometimes and that sometimes Oz can really get me worked up.
It's tough being an ex pat.
     On the other hand, I'm sure glad that I'm not on the co-op board in Brooklyn anymore after that tornado swept through Park Slope last week.  What a mess, and so sad to see all of those trees knocked down.  Everything must change, eventually.  Nothing is forever.  Still, it's sad when a place that meant so much to me is transformed forever into something I won't recognize.
Ah, now, there's no crying in baseball Jennifer.  Time for dinner.

A Much Needed Lament.........

     I realize that I have neglected this blog in the same way I have neglected other things over the past year.  It's hard to find space to come up for air when you have an infant.  It's hard to even remember what you used to do in your other life.   It's wonderful, having Nora, but I have been battling my own demons this past year.
    It's the typical things that most women go through after having a baby:  the figure I once had and the clothes that once fit me are a bit of a distant memory.  It took me a while, (and weekly Pilates sessions) to even get my core strength back.  It's nice to have that, at least, even if my old jeans are still packed in a box.  I ended up giving away some beautiful clothes from my "skinny mini" period because I decided I would rather have things that fit me than lament over the days when I barely registered 130 pounds on the scale.
And my vintage collection, packed away in storage back in the states, is no longer wearable - it's  inspiration only at this point (except for the hats, and the shoes, but without the beautiful suits and dresses, they stay packed away.)
   I look at pictures of myself and I cringe:  I see the bags under my eyes from sleepless nights, My hair, which fell out in clumps about 3 months after Nora came, (right on cue according to all of the literature) is almost back to normal, (but, since I cut a lot of it off, I feel funny with the length and the style - I miss my long hair.  It was just too depressing to lose the hair and the length of it made it seem more extreme).  My boobs are huge, (but I'm determined not to wean Nora until she is one year) and I'm dying to wear a real bra again someday.  My waistline?  Ha! I used to be the epitome of wasp waisted.  I never had a muffin top until now.  That, amazingly, doesn't bother me so much.  But what does is seeing my small wrists and thin hands, my always narrow long neck and small head on a body I don't recognize.  I used to be sample sized!  Now I have a mummy tummy.
   I'm longing for  a week on the beach, a day at the spa, a full night's sleep.
I envy my 11 month old daughter's beautiful hair, brown with copper highlights.  She has my natural hair color and I think that the next salon visit I make will be to say:  give me that color, one last time before my hair goes all gray.  Let us be the same, let me live that moment of youth one more time.
Her eyes are a beautiful sea gray/ green.  She has my heart shaped face, but a mouth from her father's side of the family, (I think - we'll see what it looks like when most of her teeth arrive).
     I'm 40, I'm an older mom. I'm an ex-pat.  I'm Gen X.  We were talking about food co ops at one of my ABA meetings and I admitted to them that I had helped in a food co op when I was a girl.  My parents - co op members, organic gardeners, etc.  Born in 1969, the summer of love, 2 towns over from the Woodstock Festival, upstate NY girl.  Talking to a woman in her 20's who kind of looked at me with her mouth hanging open when I told her.  Born in the sixties.  I'll be 58 when Nora graduates high school.
   She's probably the only child I'll ever have.  I admit that when my younger friends talk about having more, and that when I see little bubs sleeping peacefully, I feel a pulling in my heart.   I should have started earlier, I think.  But, at what cost?  Would I have traded the travel, the dancing, the creative work,  the life of a single gal in NYC?  I might have traded the six years wasted on an older man who didn't have the strength to commit to anything.  But, mostly, I have no regrets about living my life how I did.  So, Nora is my autumn child. The day we brought her home from the hospital, it smelled like fall at home.  The air was crisp.  The fallen leaves were blowing and twirling in the breeze.  It was a good day.  I was scared out of my wits, but it was a good day.
     She is my romping lion, my funny, sunny smiling girl.  She smiles at almost everyone she meets.  She loves music.  She sings to herself.  She bounces with the beat.  She loves maracas and tambourines. She loves playing with her older brother and sister.  They have no idea that babies need to nap.  That over stimulation is a bad thing.  She cries like an opera singer.  She is trying to stand by herself and is frustrated when she falls, again, onto her padded bottom.  She points at everything and says "da!".  "Cabinet", I say, "picture, flower, tree.."  She loves books,  she turns the pages and points.  She has a special shelf where she will place certain toys.  She took her sippy cup down from the end table today, had a drink, and put it back on the table.  She bit my shoulder, she bit my boob, (ouch!).  She throws the ball and chases it.  She rolls it to me.  She plays peek a boo with her blanket in the pram.
She claps.  She plays by herself and says "Hooray!", (thanks to dad and a certain song about being happy).
     I love her with a fierce love, I am her protector, her sleep aid, her meal ticket, her mom.  But, where am I?  Where is the me I once was?  Can I be mom and Jennifer?  Can I be Jennifer and stay sane?   I look in the mirror, place my hands on my cheeks and subtly pull the skin back: 20, 40, 20, 40.
Once I had the face of a twenty year old, but who appreciates that when you have it?   It's not so bad, really, my 40 year old face.  But it looks tired now.
   I wish that I had that village around me that everyone talks about.  I wish that the few friends I had in oz before I had Nora had stuck around after I had her.  I wish that my mom didn't have to watch Nora on Skype like she is watching TV.  I wish that my aunts were around because I miss my family.  I wish that Nora would know her Grandpa Comar the way I knew him when I was a little girl.   I wish that my American mommy friends were around the corner.  I wish that I could curl up on the couch with my cats; one in the bend of my knees, the other in the curve of my chest.
It's getting better, though.  I don't mind it here.  Sometimes I even like it.  If only we had American Target.
Sigh.  Thanks for letting me get that out.



    

Things I like about Oz

   I think that it's about time I put down in words the things that I like about my adopted country.  My husband says to me "if you wrote a column, everyone would hate you" because I am constantly making remarks like  "I find the upper class in Australia to be more materialistic than than the same class in the US but with less good stuff to spend their money on........"  My response to him is that I am just telling it like I see it and that I'd say the same things in/ about the states if we were living there.
It's funny how sometimes a comment like "I really miss original Cheerios, the kind in the yellow box" can be misinterpreted as "I miss Cheerios and I hate Australia".  Sometimes I really do just miss Cheerios.  That's all.
   As the outsider in most conversations, I think people look a bit deeper into my remarks and my sense of humor than they should or that they need to.  But, I'm too old to edit myself and I have to say I'm really looking forward to being 80 when I can just say what I want when I want to whomever I want and they can go stuff it if they don't like it.   At 40, I am a bit more diplomatic with my words, but I come from a line of strong women and most of my girl friends back in the states are like me.  We have our opinions and we let people know about it, (and, in fact, I'm the soft spoken one of the bunch!  I'd fear for the men of Australia if some of my girl friends were let loose down here.) Maybe that's an American thing?
     So, I'd like everyone to know that there are things I do really like about Oz.  Here they are, in no particular order..................

1)  Universal Health Care.  The US is so screwed up in this regard that their idea of universal health care is to make everyone buy insurance whether or not they can afford it.  Universal Health Care means that if you lose a finger, a hand, break a foot or a leg, you will not lose your house or have to file for bankruptcy.  It means that a everyone can see a doctor if they need it, and it means that every child's health is looked after from birth onwards.  It means that people get the care that they need without having to worry about how they will pay for it.

2)  Cool changes after oven hot days in the summer, (Thank you, Antarctic breezes!)

3)  Volcanic rocks on the road from Melbourne through Kyneton.

4)  Koalas

5)  The big old Kookaburra that watches us on our property in East Warburton.

6) The sound of Kookaburras laughing in the forest.

7) Tea and Scones on Puffing Billy

8) Ferntree gullys in the Dandedongs

9) Antique shops in Olinda

10) The marshland lake in Ballarat that used to have water in it and the optimistic rowing clubs that keep their clubhouses in order waiting for the day when it fills with water again

11) The Sequoia walk in the Ballarat botanical garden - more than a dozen beautiful tall California redwoods.... expats, just like me

12) The water wall at the NGV International Gallery (my stepkids' maternal grandfather helped design it and they tell me so every time I mention it!)

13) The shade awnings on most stores in village shopping areas, especially the older shops in Carlton North and historic neighborhoods.

14)  The service at David Jones department stores.

15)  Luna Park at St Kilda.

16)  Wild and crazy cold oceans and the amazing coastline along the Great Ocean Road.

17)  The Yarra River bubbling along before it enters urban Melbourne.

18)  Small boutiques supporting local designers on Smith Street and surrounds in Melbourne.

19) Spicks and Specks

20)  The Avenue of Honor in Bacchus Marsh - one elm tree planted for every soldier lost in World War 1.  It is overwhelming to see how many young men volunteered and never came home from such a small town.  The trees are so old now that they create an archway over the road and they are so beautiful, leafy and shady.  All of the elm trees in that states died from Dutch Elm Disease so the site is even more amazing to me because I haven't seen trees like this since I was a very small girl.

21)  The smell of gum trees after a cool rain.

22)  Bondi Vet - tanned, young, intelligent and ready to help your animals in need!

23) All of the roses defying the climate and blooming in riotous colors in the spring!

24)  Walking along the Yarra at Southbank - shopping at DFO, afternoon tea at the Hilton with Julianna and Alessandra.

25)  My aussie laid back daughter - I may be a yank, but I have a feeling she will not be half as uptight as I am!

26) Flinders Street Station

27) The Royal Arcade

28)  High ceilings in old houses during hot summers

29)  California Bungalows in the inner west (alas, that I can't afford!)

30)  Galah parrots playing along in the breeze

31)  Indoor rooms with window walls that open to the outside, (dream house, anyone?)

32)  Flat whites

33)  Crossing the ranges on the way to Echuca

34)  Somewhere, in winter, it does snow, even if I'm too scared to drive up the mountain to see it (no guard rails, drops of hundreds of feet!)

35)  The gardens and parks in urban Melbourne

36)  Knowing that there are still so many amazing things to see: like Hanging Rock, Uluru, The Nullaboor, Sydney Harbor, The Glass House mountains  and more.........

These are some of the things that I like about Oz.