The love of your life

Mark Latham is not a man I ever, ever thought I would agree with on anything. For those reading who aren’t Australian he was our opposition leader for a short time until his various public meltdowns and alleged king hit saw him unceremoniously dumped from his role. 

Like another ousted leader, he keeps popping up in the media and is likewise usually ranting some sort of subjective, under-researched nonsense. But this week he said something on radio^ that I have to admit I related to; ‘...having children is the great loving experience of any lifetime’. This was shocking to me as not only did I agree with him, it now seemed we may have somehow been cosmically linked *horror!* because the day before I had started a post called ‘The love of your life’, of course about my boys.

Luckily Mark Latham wasn’t my inspiration, it was my eldest son, a mere 22 months on this earth, looking up at me and saying for the first time ‘whove you’ as I kissed him nigh-night on Sunday. Shocked and emotional I responded ‘Love you too’ while trying to hold back tears.

I felt my heart in my throat as I closed his door - I wanted to run back in and explain to him in vivid and intense detail how much I loved him, how even when I was tired and grumpy I loved him, even when I had to say no to him I loved him, even when I was away from him he’s always on my mind. But I exercised some self-control and instead started typing, sparing him but not you - sorry!

It got me thinking...despite my normal sleep-deprived tendency to have a good old complain, my boys are the loves of my life. In the many years prior to motherhood I spent an inordinate amount of time analysing, speculating and bumbling about looking for the ‘love of my life’. I also bored quite a few people senseless with endless ramblings that could have as easily been solved by pulling the petals off a daisy. And I mistakenly thought that my wedding was the final chapter in that quest.

I had no idea that there was a love in existence that so dwarfed the love between two adults. (I would have achieved a lot more if I had - damn you ignorance!) A love so huge it throws the whole equilibrium of your existence into turmoil. You start having wierd visions during everyday events. Crossing the road becomes a mini horror movie in your mind as you play out what an out of control car could do to the pram. When you see amazement, joy or fear in your childrens eyes you find yourself wiping tears from your face. You start putting yourself so badly last you sometimes forget to eat and your husband is lucky to get a sideways glance let alone some affection (don't even start me on intimacy!). It is literally mental, well initially anyway, and it’s as beautiful as it is torturous.

This unique and huge love has made me realise that there is so much in the world we don’t understand when we think we do. Mr Latham has copped a lot of flack for his comments about people who have chosen not to have kids. Someone saying publicly that they think child-free people struggle with empathy probably does deserve most of it. But as I read one emotionally-charged critique from a non-parent* it took me back to when I hadn’t had children and I remember thinking that all this hype surrounding the love you feel for your children was definitely over-rated and I honestly thought I would prefer a puppy. I was ignorant, not in a general sense I was just ignorant of what it felt like to be a parent and worse still, I didn’t know it. This didn’t make me any less valid, triumphant, empathetic or human, it just made me ignorant of what it was like to be a parent.

The simple fact is parenthood is inexplicable to non-parents. Parents don’t rave on about their kids to be hurtful or exclusive or to make people who haven’t had kids feel bad, we just say this stuff because we are so overwhelmed and amazed we can’t help gushing and carrying on about it from sunrise to sunset. It is an all-consuming, life changing experience. You want to tell the world. Unfortunately parents forget that there are a lot of people out there who just think we are mad, smug, stupid (see Baby Brain) and intentionally trying to make child-free people envy us. We get so wrapped up in our whirlwind we almost expect that everyone will understand and not only that, we want everyone we love to experience it too. *Squirm*

So If you’re not pregnant and sick of people raving on about the greatness of parenthood, be happy that you will do and experience things that parents will have to forgo because of kids. Like me now dreaming about one day resuming regular ablution habits, let alone the round the world trips I wish I could take#.

But if you are pregnant with your first now, just know you're about to be swept off your feet in every which way that is possible. And despite maybe missing out on a promotion at work or a trip to an amazing travel destination, you won’t regret a second of it once you’ve met ‘the one’.

Can you believe this is a viral promo for maternity bras?
I don't care I love it and invite you to write what you would tell your pre-baby self.

*One response to Mark Latham's comments by Janine Toms on Mamamia.com

^The full transcript of Mark Latham’s interview at ABC Radio National
#I’m turning down free travel as we speak because caring for two under two in a hotel room would likely see me stabbing myself with a pen and certainly see me so exhausted it simply wouldn’t be worth it.

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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

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a beautiful madness

On 3 hours sleep I am trying to see the positive side of a new baby in my life. My second bub is less work than my first but it seems so much harder this time. Probably because they wake each other and my previously perfectly sleeping-through 21mth old is now night waking and wanting to cuddle, read books and generally get some reassurance that the footsteps he's hearing at all hours of the night are mine and not some green-eyed monsters'.

But if another older woman, be it my mother or the well-meaning neighbour tells me again that this is the best time of my life and I should be relishing it, I'll scream. It is not the best time – yes it is amazing and I am so lucky in so many ways but until a baby's brain is taught how to sleep you can't truly enjoy them. Let's be honest on 3 hours sleep you start getting desperate and you do resent them for making you wretched in every way.

Don't get me wrong I adore my two sons, but as Charles Dickens wrote "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..." and it is exactly that. I long for that person that laughed more, that didn't have a headache most of the time, that had spare time to think and just be. It probably sounds selfish but I miss myself – and I am scared of who I have become...namely more like my mother than I care to admit, (if she could get me to care about the housekeeping 100% of the time the incarnation would be complete).

I know I'm not meant to complain about this - what about people who can't have babies, or those that have lost them - god forbid.. I am aware logically of how blessed I am - I have a happy healthy family which is all that should matter. But sleep deprivation seems to remove all logic. And when I look at my life through bleary eyes I only see the negatives. 

Here's hoping tonight my youngest will sleep more than 3.5hrs at a time then my world will be clearer, my guilt will be less, my husband will sigh with relief and I will truly appreciate the beautiful madness that my two gorgeous boys have made of my life. 

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