March 2011 ~ My IdeaLife

My Kingdom for a Kiss Upon Her Shoulder

It's been 18 years since his blood warmed our hearts and his, but his voice remains and still inspires...Read more...

The love of your life

Is it a man, is it a career, no it's superbaby!...Read more...

A lifetime of beauty in a song

Middle East (the band not the place) have somehow condensed the human experience into this soulful song: Blood...Read more...

Superwomen have it all by NOT doing it all

Superwoman really don't exist, it's more like Insanitywoman, so stop pretending and start outsourcing...Read more...

Thursday 24 March 2011

Baby Brain

What happens when you only communicate with
early-verbal humans?


My husband’s new gig means he keeps coming home with VIP tickets to all sorts of events. Last month it was the Open air Cinema in Sydney and this month Enlighten in Canberra. Three years ago I would have been ecstatic, and part of me still gets a little excited, but another part of me just fills with dread.

First there’s the finding clothes that aren’t tracksuit pants, jeans or t-shirts. Then there’s the hair and makeup, ‘is my hair even washed?’ I panic. Then there are the high heel shoes that seem so much harder to walk in after a year in a variety of trainers. But the worst part, the part no quick trip to the dry cleaners can solve, is the irrefutable need to make adult conversation on the night.

You see I now only communicate in baby language, which is simplified verbal shorthand, delivered with often over-the-top tonal expression, distorted facial animation, and punctured by incomprehensible sounds such as ‘toot toot’ or ‘ba ba ba ba ba ’ (dependent on which child I’m with). Imagine first year acting student or those hideous corporate icebreaking exercises. That’s me most of the day.

And the content of conversations, although extensive, would not really grab the attention of the usual VIP guest. Imagine excitedly yelling, “Garbage truck, look, beep beep beep” at the top of your voice as everyone around you recoiled at the smell and noise of its’ untimely arrival. Or congratulating your husband’s colleague on his return from an extended absence in the loo, “Did you just do a big Poo? I think you diiiid, bet that’s made you feel better, good job!”

Don’t worry I haven’t yet had my husband fired as have managed to keep these thoughts as thoughts when at said functions. But it’s just a struggle to think of other things to say after nearly two years of trucks, poo and snot dominating most conversations. Basically give me a bath or just 3 hours on my own to do anything as long as it doesn’t involve up-to-the-minute small talk.

I like to call my current situation ‘baby brain’. There has always been talk of ‘baby brain’ during pregnancy, but once you are “back to normal”, expectations are that you will mentally revert, as you have physically reverted. When in fact ‘Raphael-Leff (1994) suggests that upon becoming mothers, women are "plunged into a state of inner disequilibrium and external upheaval quite unlike any other encountered in adult life".’~

From my experience ‘baby brain’ kicked off after the birth of my first child and it’s really come in to it’s own now I have two under two. Research backs this up but only so far, as they have found that women only suffer a loss of spatial memory* from the later stages of pregnancy to at least three months after birth. My youngest is 6 months and there are NO signs of my brain returning to normal any time soon.

I figure I may need to put research aside and fight baby brain with its’ worst enemy: going out. Yes the effort is annoying, the thought of conversation threatening and there is in all likelihood a cranky backlash usually directed at your husband the next day because you are doubly exhausted. But once you get out you remember for a second what it’s like to be your old self, rather than a mother (although my conversation starter is usually ‘do you have kids?’).

And who says new mothers need to always have the grey film of sleep deprivation coating their skin? Who says tracksuit pants and trainers are the only things we should wear? Well, me for one, as most days just getting out of bed is a strain. But my point is that occasionally getting out and putting on makeup and a black slinky number (of course accompanied by some nancy ganz) may be the cure for Baby brain!?

I’ve only ventured out a handful of times so my brain impairment is still quite severe, but I’m taking my own advice I’m off to dinner and drinks (!) tonight with a girlfriend. The same quandary is running through my mind ‘Are you too tired to move let alone go out and talk to another adult?’ and I am likely to bite my husband’s head off when he reads the paper instead of feeding our son tomorrow, but I think it’ll be worth it, for me anyway, so I’m giving it a go. And who knows maybe the power of the English language will return to my lips just for two hours. At least I hope it will, otherwise I’ll be seeing the inside of a bathtub a lot more often and remaining content with putting the frozen peas in the pantry while yelling “Dada don't forget we need to iron the car^?” 



Researchers catch Baby brain on video for the first time!

Tell me I’m not the only one…what’s your ‘baby brain’ experience?


* The recall of locations and positions of objects, Read more: http://www.news.com.au/entertainment/body-soul/baby-brain-is-real-after-all/story-e6frfot9-1225848946456#ixzz1HIIiKlM9 Baby brain is real after all, The Sunday Telegraph, April 04, 2010
^ Meant to be 'vacuum the car' if you hadn’t already guessed
~ Motherhood experiences from the perspective of first-time mothers. Clinical Nursing Research, November 01, 1997, McVeigh, Carol

Thursday 17 March 2011

What's with the Landslide of tears?

So watching Glee the other night and trying to chill out after the 5-7pm dinner, bath and bedtime double shift. Thinking 'this is a good episode' no Michael Jackson or Olivia Newton-John songs, so that was making me happy. And Gwyneth Paltrow’s character, Holly-sex is like hugging, only wetter-Holliday was cracking me up, so all was good.

Then suddenly out of the blue I am crying. My poor husband sitting next to me looking not that surprised exclaimed ‘what’s wrong?’ I couldn’t answer of course as was singing along word for word with Stevie Nicks’ song Landslide while tears streamed down my cheeks.

‘What is it about that song?’ my husband wanted to know, when it was over. 'I honestly don't know' I gurgled, 'the same thing happened when you played it while I was giving birth to Max, remember?'. Of course he didn't but one minute I was peacefully enjoying my epidural-nullified contractions and the next I was blubbering uncontrollably and yelling ‘turn it off, turn it off’.

So not the birth of said firstborn and don't think it was playing during any angst-ridden teenage breakups. It didn't feature at our wedding, 'so what is it' I puzzled.

Well without darting off and educating myself on the affect of certain rhythms or guitar riffs on human emotion I concluded it must be down to the lyrics. As research I thought I’d play it again the next day. So braved it on my way to pick up my son from day care. I sang along as usual and was doing ok even until the lines:

Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?


Then the chorus started:

Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older and I'm getting older too


And that was it – in the middle of a reverse park I screwed up my face in that ugly involuntary way you have to, to try and stop hysterical crying coming on. I shook my head vigorously and quickly turned off the ignition managing to hold it together and not hit another parent's car. (Anyone watching would have thought I had some sort of tourettes type episode.)

Stevie Nicks wrote Landslide at a turning point in her life when she was living in Aspen. Her father had just offered to pay for her to go back to university, of which she had previously dropped out to pursue her musical career. Polydor Records had just dropped her and Lindsay Buckingham and she hadn’t yet been asked to join Fleetwood Mac, which would of course change everything.

The reflection and sentimentality of the song are understandable then also the eerie ability to make you step back and look at your life with a long view. But the child bit is what gets to me, maybe because at 40 I still feel like a wide-eyed 19 year old most of the time. Stevie Nicks was 25 when she was torn between her Father's rescue plan and her dream of being a musician. She ultimately backed herself and the rest is musical history.  

I think my tears are from the disappointment I feel at not having fully backed myself in my 20s, plus the inevitable sadness that time keeps moving on not waiting for me to grow up...mmmmnnn...Or maybe I've just underestimated the power of pregnancy and breastfeeding hormones*? Whatever the reasons - what an amazing song.

 
Have a listen - does it reduce you to a watery mess?

*The three instances of tears occurred either while pregnant or breastfeeding - will test theory when hormone levels back to normal

Monday 7 March 2011

More sleep=less madness

It's amazing what a difference some sleep makes! So many mothers who have been there and done the two kids hellishly close together have kept telling me 'there is light at the end of the tunnel'. Well I think I am catching a glimpse of said light - hurrah! 

My sleep deprivation deprived me of so much more than sleep. Namely the ability to see anything clearly or logically, especially the new little human being growing up so quickly in front of me. In any case I felt obliged to write again so that all those poor women expecting their second won't curl up in a ball and start rocking after reading my first post. 

To you I say it has it's ups and downs and you may get a bub that happily sleeps from 11pm to 6am from 5wks like some in my mum's group have. Basically it is not as bad as I've made it sound - for some it is better, for some worse. Whatever your situation it is always more manageable on 5-6hrs sleep.

So lately my resentment has just faded and is being replaced by as strong a love as I have for my eldest. I can now see the positive side of all those negatives, even my husband made me laugh yesterday (!!!)  So all is well with the world again...until the next sleep-deprived night and subsequent brain snap hits. (Suddenly that scene in 'Parenthood' about the roller coaster makes sense).