Mother Naturally
Without Prejudice
It's exhausting and relentless and dirty, sometimes and sometimes you think no one is listening. It's a job that is not for the faint hearted, if you were faint hearted before, trust me,a child should cure all that.
I imagined if you pierced my Dad's DNA, music would flow out, my Mum, words. If you cut my DNA open you would find the one word. MOTHER.
I was born to be a Mother, as nothing fills me with more delight than looking spending time with my girls and their kids. I was fascinated from the time I could walk and adored my baby brother, David, he coming along when I was 4
I watched him for hours and was entranced when he woke up, inhaling his baby smell, warm from a nap in his singlet and nappy. The bedroom smelt hot and dusty, faded sunlight dappling on the threadbare carpet, David would sit patiently waiting for my approach, a happy placid little boy, endearingly sweet.
Luckily he still is.
I always wanted a lot of kids. That was also processed into my DNA and I was lucky enough to come from a large family of 7. Being in an a large family is great training for life. Alliances are formed, you know who you can trust and who not. You learn to be competitive and they show up your weaknesses and faults. Luckily they still love you, no matter what a little shit you can be.
I am a middle child, so a "Pick Me", pick me, child. Always trying to get heard among the louder and older sibs. Born with a crippling shyness and an immense brain that I loved and hated at the same time.
Knowing all the answers before any one else and puzzled as to how others could not know. I was a whinge, a sook, cried for Australia to get what I wanted and had to out beat the boys at everything. They understand this.
Apparently on the good side I was a sweet little girl, who thought of others. And spent hours in my room reading. I can't remember my Mum being the Mum I became, I can't remember reading a book about being a Mother, but I "knew" I was destined to become one.
When Debbie was born I was complete. If she cried, I cried. I watched her all the time, hours spent just talking to her, checking that she was still breathing, just fussing like a loyal Saint Bernard.
To me, just turned 18, she was the miracle I wanted. The panacea to a crazy life, the calm in the middle of the storm. She grew into a serious loving beautiful girl and she still is. All my girls have big hearts and I love that about them. They know I don't have to pee in their pockets to say that. They are the real deal, Thank God.
Inside my marriage of 2 very different people, I realised early on my ex husband and I were too dis similar to ever be really happy. So all my attention focused on the girls. I needed love and affection, it was life blood to me and he hadn't been brought up with it, he said. He didn't like it.
It's still life blood to me and I know I will always be like it. Mother, a 24 hour, 7 day a week, 365 days of the year job. Frustrating, worrisome, relentless, challenging. I have always said if you can run a family, you can run a business and if you can run a business you can run the country.
Not that most of us Mum's would want the commitment or the long hours spent away from family that running a country would entail. And the camera getting back shots of your bum and the pimple on your chin, no thanks.
Most women are happy running their own family. Going out to work outside the home has clear advantages, self esteem building, worthwhile endeavour, I find that at home. treating the job of Mother and Grandmother and soon to be Great Grand Mother a job and treat it as such.
I have to write everyday to improve. Every day of what I hope is another forty years or so. And what is important to me then will have changed. If I look back 40 years Debbie and Yvette were babies and so was I.
I had no idea being a Mother entailed so much work and embodied such out of this world tiredness. And huge body issues and physical effects. the first time I saw my deflated belly after 2 babies was a huge shock, scarred for life with stretch marks, purple ones, that ran down belly and sides of thighs, breasts too.
That was a huge shock and being 18 and vain it was double difficult. Men stayed the same, lucky them. I was married to a man who stayed in shape by working hard. I was the opposite. Soft and wanting peace at any cost and hated Motherhood for a while, resenting the freedom my hubby seemed to have and me not.
The only thing I could control in that situation was my appetite. And I did ruthlessly. I was skinnier after Yvette than I had ever been, 49 kilos and tiny. I could wear anything and did, the 70's beginning with flares and hippy tops and platforms. I used to wear cork wedges to work at KFC and the cork was eaten away by the acid they used to clean the pots with eating in to the soles.
My Sister In Law to be, Karin, worked there after me and cut her finger, a tiny nick that didn't even need a bandaid and by the next day her finger was throbbing and there was a red line going up her arm.
Her lovely Dad, "Chuck Berry", took her straight to the Hospital and she had tetanus. Acid wash all over the floor back in those days, swilling on to the floor, making it hazardous for us girls, skating on the grease in our high shoes.
The heat from the cookers enough to make you pass out on hot days, the crowds snaking out of the door on Mother's Day and the stress of not enough chicken, or too much chicken left over at the end of the night. Or "Hurried" chicken which had not had time to dry out in the big drying ovens and the skin slid off in glutinous blobs.
I juggled work and Debbie, loving the money that was "mine", not much time to spend on my self and one night we went out as the newby parents. I glowed with fulfilment and of course Debbie was with us. We never went anywhere without her.
New and anxious parents, luckily Deb was an Island of calmness in a sea of chaos, and mothered us with her solemn almond shaped eyes. I don't know why she chose us to be her parents, but she did and we classed ourselves a lucky.
But young love and hormones intervened and I knew I was pregnant again from our one night of relative "Freedom", getting dressed up and going out and having fun. I was still breast feeding then but had started to "Comp" feed Debbie and bang I was pregnant. I now know you have to be fully breast feeding for true protection from pregnancy.
But we were young and my ex husband was especially delighted, decided it was another girl and we moved to a bigger home in Oakleigh and waited for the baby to arrive. Debbie still in nappies when I had Yvette. Yvette coming along fairly quickly, no time for epidural this time. A good size 8lb 40z to Debbie's 7lb 10oz.
I didn't breast feed as I wanted to go on the pill straight away, 2 pregnancies in 2 years was a bit much. But I delighted in them anyway, they were mine, and my night and day. I watched them grow together, Debbie not knowing what this strange little thing was that took up so much of my time.
I went back to work full time when Yvette was 15 months old and Debbie was 2 and a bit. Transferred to a new house in a raw neighbourhood of dirt and new house frames. our house was the 2nd to be built in it's court. Land and nothing stretching all around. It was lonely, it was stupefying and stone motherless last boring.
I preferred to be at work and leave the baby sitting to my ex husbands sister who also had little kids at home. We paid her to mind them and Saturday mornings were the hardest, 5 and a half day week in Retail then. And by Saturday you had had it.
If I was lucky, my ex would bring the girls home and if not I would drive to Cranbourne from Chadstone to pick them up. I resented the time spent away from them but we needed the money. My ex had his own little business, gates and fencing mainly, and I had a job at Lindsays, now Target in Chadstone.
He worked near his Sister, was always hugely hard working and ambitious, type A personality, snappy, loud, quick. And one day he backed over Yvette with the truck, accidentally in his Sisters driveway. Yvette's leg was scraped going under the wheel, luckily she was just 15 months and the drive was gravel.
A worker of my ex shouting out in alarm as the truck neared Yvette and she fell over, and my ex stopping when he felt a bump. She was alright, thank God, her bones still soft at that age and the gravel having more "give" to its surface than concrete. She was so lucky !
I decided to quit work a while after that and become a stay at home full time Mum and that's what I did. My ex was of the old school, where a woman stayed in the home and supported her man so he didn't mind me staying home.
To be continued
It's exhausting and relentless and dirty, sometimes and sometimes you think no one is listening. It's a job that is not for the faint hearted, if you were faint hearted before, trust me,a child should cure all that.
I imagined if you pierced my Dad's DNA, music would flow out, my Mum, words. If you cut my DNA open you would find the one word. MOTHER.
I was born to be a Mother, as nothing fills me with more delight than looking spending time with my girls and their kids. I was fascinated from the time I could walk and adored my baby brother, David, he coming along when I was 4
I watched him for hours and was entranced when he woke up, inhaling his baby smell, warm from a nap in his singlet and nappy. The bedroom smelt hot and dusty, faded sunlight dappling on the threadbare carpet, David would sit patiently waiting for my approach, a happy placid little boy, endearingly sweet.
Luckily he still is.
I always wanted a lot of kids. That was also processed into my DNA and I was lucky enough to come from a large family of 7. Being in an a large family is great training for life. Alliances are formed, you know who you can trust and who not. You learn to be competitive and they show up your weaknesses and faults. Luckily they still love you, no matter what a little shit you can be.
I am a middle child, so a "Pick Me", pick me, child. Always trying to get heard among the louder and older sibs. Born with a crippling shyness and an immense brain that I loved and hated at the same time.
Knowing all the answers before any one else and puzzled as to how others could not know. I was a whinge, a sook, cried for Australia to get what I wanted and had to out beat the boys at everything. They understand this.
Apparently on the good side I was a sweet little girl, who thought of others. And spent hours in my room reading. I can't remember my Mum being the Mum I became, I can't remember reading a book about being a Mother, but I "knew" I was destined to become one.
When Debbie was born I was complete. If she cried, I cried. I watched her all the time, hours spent just talking to her, checking that she was still breathing, just fussing like a loyal Saint Bernard.
To me, just turned 18, she was the miracle I wanted. The panacea to a crazy life, the calm in the middle of the storm. She grew into a serious loving beautiful girl and she still is. All my girls have big hearts and I love that about them. They know I don't have to pee in their pockets to say that. They are the real deal, Thank God.
Inside my marriage of 2 very different people, I realised early on my ex husband and I were too dis similar to ever be really happy. So all my attention focused on the girls. I needed love and affection, it was life blood to me and he hadn't been brought up with it, he said. He didn't like it.
It's still life blood to me and I know I will always be like it. Mother, a 24 hour, 7 day a week, 365 days of the year job. Frustrating, worrisome, relentless, challenging. I have always said if you can run a family, you can run a business and if you can run a business you can run the country.
Not that most of us Mum's would want the commitment or the long hours spent away from family that running a country would entail. And the camera getting back shots of your bum and the pimple on your chin, no thanks.
Most women are happy running their own family. Going out to work outside the home has clear advantages, self esteem building, worthwhile endeavour, I find that at home. treating the job of Mother and Grandmother and soon to be Great Grand Mother a job and treat it as such.
I have to write everyday to improve. Every day of what I hope is another forty years or so. And what is important to me then will have changed. If I look back 40 years Debbie and Yvette were babies and so was I.
I had no idea being a Mother entailed so much work and embodied such out of this world tiredness. And huge body issues and physical effects. the first time I saw my deflated belly after 2 babies was a huge shock, scarred for life with stretch marks, purple ones, that ran down belly and sides of thighs, breasts too.
That was a huge shock and being 18 and vain it was double difficult. Men stayed the same, lucky them. I was married to a man who stayed in shape by working hard. I was the opposite. Soft and wanting peace at any cost and hated Motherhood for a while, resenting the freedom my hubby seemed to have and me not.
The only thing I could control in that situation was my appetite. And I did ruthlessly. I was skinnier after Yvette than I had ever been, 49 kilos and tiny. I could wear anything and did, the 70's beginning with flares and hippy tops and platforms. I used to wear cork wedges to work at KFC and the cork was eaten away by the acid they used to clean the pots with eating in to the soles.
My Sister In Law to be, Karin, worked there after me and cut her finger, a tiny nick that didn't even need a bandaid and by the next day her finger was throbbing and there was a red line going up her arm.
Her lovely Dad, "Chuck Berry", took her straight to the Hospital and she had tetanus. Acid wash all over the floor back in those days, swilling on to the floor, making it hazardous for us girls, skating on the grease in our high shoes.
The heat from the cookers enough to make you pass out on hot days, the crowds snaking out of the door on Mother's Day and the stress of not enough chicken, or too much chicken left over at the end of the night. Or "Hurried" chicken which had not had time to dry out in the big drying ovens and the skin slid off in glutinous blobs.
I juggled work and Debbie, loving the money that was "mine", not much time to spend on my self and one night we went out as the newby parents. I glowed with fulfilment and of course Debbie was with us. We never went anywhere without her.
New and anxious parents, luckily Deb was an Island of calmness in a sea of chaos, and mothered us with her solemn almond shaped eyes. I don't know why she chose us to be her parents, but she did and we classed ourselves a lucky.
But young love and hormones intervened and I knew I was pregnant again from our one night of relative "Freedom", getting dressed up and going out and having fun. I was still breast feeding then but had started to "Comp" feed Debbie and bang I was pregnant. I now know you have to be fully breast feeding for true protection from pregnancy.
But we were young and my ex husband was especially delighted, decided it was another girl and we moved to a bigger home in Oakleigh and waited for the baby to arrive. Debbie still in nappies when I had Yvette. Yvette coming along fairly quickly, no time for epidural this time. A good size 8lb 40z to Debbie's 7lb 10oz.
I didn't breast feed as I wanted to go on the pill straight away, 2 pregnancies in 2 years was a bit much. But I delighted in them anyway, they were mine, and my night and day. I watched them grow together, Debbie not knowing what this strange little thing was that took up so much of my time.
I went back to work full time when Yvette was 15 months old and Debbie was 2 and a bit. Transferred to a new house in a raw neighbourhood of dirt and new house frames. our house was the 2nd to be built in it's court. Land and nothing stretching all around. It was lonely, it was stupefying and stone motherless last boring.
I preferred to be at work and leave the baby sitting to my ex husbands sister who also had little kids at home. We paid her to mind them and Saturday mornings were the hardest, 5 and a half day week in Retail then. And by Saturday you had had it.
If I was lucky, my ex would bring the girls home and if not I would drive to Cranbourne from Chadstone to pick them up. I resented the time spent away from them but we needed the money. My ex had his own little business, gates and fencing mainly, and I had a job at Lindsays, now Target in Chadstone.
He worked near his Sister, was always hugely hard working and ambitious, type A personality, snappy, loud, quick. And one day he backed over Yvette with the truck, accidentally in his Sisters driveway. Yvette's leg was scraped going under the wheel, luckily she was just 15 months and the drive was gravel.
A worker of my ex shouting out in alarm as the truck neared Yvette and she fell over, and my ex stopping when he felt a bump. She was alright, thank God, her bones still soft at that age and the gravel having more "give" to its surface than concrete. She was so lucky !
I decided to quit work a while after that and become a stay at home full time Mum and that's what I did. My ex was of the old school, where a woman stayed in the home and supported her man so he didn't mind me staying home.
To be continued
