Mum's the boss.....

The other day I sat at the table whilst my 3 year old ate his dinner. It had been a rather normal day - although with a slightly more grumpy and tired boy who has recently decided that day time naps are fast becoming a thing of the past. (And maybe too I should add that I myself was possibly a little tired and grumpy too). Anyway, as I chanted my usual "don't play with your food, and sit at the table until you are finished" I found myself pondering how many times that day I had had to tell him to do or not do something.

My role as a parent is clearly to shape and direct my child into what I want him to be - taking into account his personality which will also dictate what the end product will be. Feeling overwhelmed at the number of times that on this particular day I had said "don't", I wrote down my rules to check my reasonablness. And also so I could ponder why they were so important to me that I kept saying them over and over.

I know parenting is a challenge for most and we are constantly told to pick the battles you want to have - and certainly many would disagree with some of my seemingly petty peaves, but here they are.

1. Don't jump on the couch. But Why? I know this is one most parents would just leave but I also apply the rule of " would it matter in a year's time if they did that". Well, yes - in a years time when I have to look at a tatty couch with food smudges etc then this would bother me. A bouncy is for bouncing - my furniture should be respected. Children should respect things that are important to others. See below.

2. Don't stand/sit on the coffee table or play trucks on the TV cabinet. But Why? Because children should learn to respect things - I don't want to be looking at scratchesin my furniture for years to come - even if they are memories of my children being young.

3. Eat your food at the table - But Why? Now this one I am a little flexible on. If it is messy food or we are all eating together we must eat at the table. Some snacks can be eaten in front of the TV but mostly TV off for dinner. Also on the food front include sitting at the table until finished and good food before bad.

4. No shoes in the house. But why? Well he doesn't really ask why for this one - he just does it. Keeps the mess out. I must say sometimes I break this rule BUT I have inside and outside shoes as my feet don't cope as well as others with no shoes all the time.

5. Don't hurt the dog, the bugs, the snails etc... But Why? Well pretty obvious really - it will hurt them and if they get really sick they will die and go to "evens" (aka Heaven).
6. Say please/thanks/ excuse me, and no yelling and talk nicely. But Why? Because good manners will get you places in life, earn you respect and shows respect for others.

7. No lego in your mouth or ears or other holes. But Why? Clearly safety plays a large part in this one. It also applies to gum nuts (retrieved from his nose), baked beans and toy car tyres.

8. Shut the back door. And don't slam the doors. But Why? Well it keeps out the mozzies and flies, the dog too, not to mention it is loud, unnecessary and the glass can break.

9. Don't hurt your brother. But Why? Because one day he will be bigger than you and hurt you back.
10. Clean up one activity before the next. But Why? Because mum can't stand having everything messy and you don't need ALL your toys out at once.

11. No breaking things, no throwing toys in the house or rocks outside the house. But Why? When I ask my son why he breaks things he says "so I can fix it" or "you can by a new one at the shop". Well we don't break things cause dad works hard to earn the money to buy them for you and it is wasteful and annoying and no we can't always fix things or buy new ones. As for throwing - well that is to stop things breaking.

And that's it - for now..... He's only 3 and I am sure this list will expand substantially over the years. But if this sets him up to be a healthy, clean and tidy child with good manners, and respect for snails and his mother - then I will have fulfilled my job description.

What goes up - must come down

I still remember when I announced at work I was pregnant a young girl saying she could not wait to be pregnant so she could eat everything. I reminded her that it still needs to come off again and having experienced 17kg of weight gain with my first son I can say taking it off again was not really easy or fun - especially for someone who likes food and hates to diet. Lucky I like to move, although having an ankle reconstruction has also meant that even this is not as easy as it used to be.

Baby number two arrived 6 weeks back and here I am again. Of course in the first week an initial chunk of weight comes away and having a 4kg baby helped this number to increase. However, the real work to be done soon starts to reveal itself.

First time around, I decided that I was not going to buy any clothes until the old ones fit - why buy new bigger clothes to stuff your chub into when a whole old wardrobe is boxed up waiting to be worn? So I invested $500 in 10 weeks of personal training and hard work - starting at 7 weeks post birth. My one hour training session a week killed me but I quickly progressed and the kilos dropped, the clothes started to fit, I started to feel better and fitter and happier. I had to write down what I was eating - and certainly sometimes stretched the truth by noting, for example, a cheeseburger as a cheese sandwich, but felt bad when the trainer would wonder why I wasn't losing more weight if that was what I was eating ("whoops").

And here I am again on this train ride and keen to be back to my normal self as close to my 36th birthday as possible. The longer I leave it the less it will move and this is not a good thing. Of course having two boys to co-ordinate is still something I am working on, and still having a stiff foot also limits me, as well as a sore neck and back, but with fitness comes strength and well being so I have a goal - pre-pregnancy weight by 20 February.

Clearly there is work to be done. around 11kg's to go to be exact. But one must start somewhere if a goal is to be achieved. I am tempted by the Rapid Detox which advertises that I can get rid of my muffin top in one weekend - but I am not convinced it won't come back again once I have a muffin. Thus, I plan to get a trainer early in the new year when the festive season is over but until then - my main motivation will be how uncomfortably tight my wetsuit is and not wanting to be on the beach in my tracksuit pants.

Bring on the bikini.

And baby makes 4

On 9 October 2009 Lachlan Arfon Jones was born. Our second (and last) child and a brother for Ashley. Ashley has been a good big brother so far. Prior to Lachlan's arrival he was aware of the "baby" on the way. He knew the baby lived in my tummy -and rather innocently believed that he got there because I ate him!! He also liked to try and squeeze my pre-natal vitamins through my belly button to "feed" the baby in the mornings. And surprisingly when Lachlan came out (through my belly button apparently) he was very pleased. He thinks he is very cute and keeps telling me how much Lachlan loves him. Very sweet. Hopefully it continues well into their teen years and beyond.

Whilst I was pregnant I tried to imagine what life would be like with "2" children. My observations 6 weeks in so far are as follows:

• I was overwhelmed at how amazing it was to have my husband at Lachlan's birth. It was a very special thing to share.
• Despite arriving 7 weeks later than Ashley did, and hearing all the horror stories about first and second babies being totally different, I can honestly say they are very similar - just with their own personalities.
• I still believe that having a baby for me, although painful at the time, is not too much worrse than having a real bad headache that can go on for hours. I am sure many mothers would disagree and I know I am very lucky to have had such short and quick labours.
• I learnt from my first child and shared experiences that breast is only best when it works for both mother and child - and that choosing to bottle feed does not make me a bad mum. My boys are both healthy, sleep well, cry little, and rarely get ill. They have clear skin and bright eyes and smile at me alot. And I can share parenting with my dear husband which makes me more happy, calm and in control - a personality trait that is not easy to relinquish just because you have a child. And - in 20 years time, or even 10, I am sure no-one will be able to tell how my baby was fed.
• Although I have two boys, I honestly do not feel the need to "try again" for a girl. Our family plan was to have two children and this is what we have done. Clearly we are just good at making boys and I don't plan to have a third.
• A baby is actually easier than a three year old. They are more transportable, sleep alot, complain less as long as they have a full tummy and clean nappy and warmth and are much easier to take shopping.
• Life is busier and requires a little more organisation than with one child. And clearly when I return to work this will be our next challenge to deal with.

Being a mummy is pretty cool and the rewards are tremendous. From little things - big things grow and I will watch my little people with delight.

Happy Holidays

When I was young, every year we used to pile in the car and head 8 + hours up the Hume Highway to Orange NSW for our annual family holiday. Over the years the trip changed. The trip got shorter as we by-passed more towns and my brothers and I got older and needed to be separated in the car to maintain some sense of peace for my parents.

But - some things never changed. We always had the ice-cream container full of lollies, we took turns in choosing the music - generally Richard Claderman classical for mum and dad, Rolf Harris for the boys, Abba, the Village People and Olivia Newton John for me. We would stop for morning and afternoon tea - usually at a park, and have tea in a thermos and egg sandwiches.

I know these were stressful times for my parents. Packing the car was not a time you approached dad, and often there was silence as the years passed by and mum and dad navigated their way into and out of towns that no longer seemed to exist - just so they could get us out the car to have a run in the park (and probably a sanity break). As we got older the "what time are we going to arrive?" questions became more persistent. I still remember the trip when we ran out of petrol and dad had to walk to a farm to get some, and the trip where we hit a bird and his feathers cooked in the front of the car.

Although we had other holidays, even one in a plane, the trips to Orange probably had the biggest impact. The journey aside, I also have very fond memories of these times. The fishing with Uncle Bob and Aunty Bev, the trips to the Salvation Army Thrift stores with Nan (or a trip to the jungle), football in the big park, the Vet next to nan and pops, the snow on Mt Kanoblas and the chooks, the visits to the pool and sitting in the stands eating ice-cream and raspberry lolly pops, nan's chicken soup, pop's smelly pipe, the lovely smell of nan's hand cream that she applied every evening, and her rocking chair, the room with the three beds I shared with my brothers and the pink flowers in the garden out front.

Last year my husband and I bought a beach house. This was after many years of pondering what it would be like to have such a luxury and whether we would get bored of it or feel that we had our money's worth, or whether it was a better option to save our money and travel abroad each year. Well, it was one of the best purchases we have made. Probably should have done it years ago.

After some initial hard work to bring our little place up to scratch, a splash of beachy blue and white paint, replacing the mismatched furniture and crockery, and some cheery holiday snaps printed on our walls reminding us of happy times that we have also enjoyed abroad, we now have a second place to call home.

We now have two children, and the thought of getting on a plane to travel anywhere makes me break out in a stressful sweat. Even the thought of an eight hour drive like my parent did would make me cringe a little, but hoping in the car on a Friday night for a two hour drive with the children and dog in tow, and taking little more than our clothes to our beach house is rather pleasant.

I am now enjoying the memories we are creating for our boys. Ashley loves his beach house and I am sure Lachlan will follow suit. He like to stop and McDonalds on the way (and can quite competently recite the McDonalds menu), he talks alot about the tractors, trucks and farms, we listen the the wiggles, playschool and 80's music CD's, we see cows and the occasional wombat on the road, the Koala that lives around the corner, the echidna's that walk in the streets, the rabbits, the beach, the baby chino shop, the park, the rainbow ice-creams for breakfast and of course the special activities with dad - like fishing, squishing jelly fish, climbing the sand dunes and super grovers on the beach.

Sandy Point really has become our home away from home. We love sharing it with the company of friends, but most importantly, I hope that our home will bring our boys as many happy memories as my youthful trips did.

Wally J Jones - My Marley

I recently went to see the film Marley and Me. Like most others in the theatre I can say that I spent a good quarter of the film holding back tears. It was a lovely yet sad story of a dog which, although incredibly badly behaved, shaped the life of the family and as the movie claims - bought out the best in them.

Today I had to say goodbye to Wally J Jones. Wally J has been the perfect dog. Like most couples, he was our first "child". Adopted during our second year of marriage as a result of my nagging. He was a golden cocker spaniel and I can honestly say bought me nothing but joy every day since I have had him. Wally was the fat puppy in the litter. There were three left and his tummy was so big and round and he looked so happy when he wagged his little stumpy tail. That is why I picked him - and what a good pick it was.

Wally was easily trained, walked off the lead with us, came when called, was well behaved in the car, rarely barked, loved being groomed and happily chewed a bone whilst sitting on the couch with us at night. Unfortunately just like humans, animals have a use by date and after thirteen years as my golden boy the time had come to say farewell.

Wally now has a plot in the garden. I picked it specially - near the fish pond, lots of day time sun and a nice seat for me to sit on to ponder my amazing memories of him.

Wally J Jones - Rest In Peace 31 January 1996 - 31 March 2009.

Deconstructing my ankle reconstruction

I have been slow at moving on the blog - partly because I have been determined to find some of my lost blog pieces. And today I have been successful. Here, from August 8 2008, is the deconstruction of my ankle reconstruction - Part one. It was meant to be part one because I was going to update my progress - not because I meant to lose it. Anyway, here is Part One + the happy ending....

Right Split Pernoeus Brevis Reconstruction-Part One - July 2008
I’ve just had an ankle reocnstruction - or to use the technical term a right split pernoues brevis reconstruction. Sounds impressive hey! Credit goes to my surgeon who - as I can tell to date - has done an excellent job.
This reconstruction has been a long time coming. I never would have forseen that twisting my ankle whilst walking on a soccer field would, over the course of 10 years, lead to such a deterioation in my ligaments to the extent that they were virtually gone. In the back of my mind I knew this may be the inevitable outcome and I am now looking forward to a nice strong foot to last me another 34 years (at least).

In the lead up to my surgery I undertook various google searches in an effort to really understand what I was in for - the real story that is - the stuff that the doctors and physios can’t really tell you because I almost guarantee that they have not had the operations they practice on others. Needless to say - I could not find much. So, for anyone who wants to know what it is really like - here is the story as it stands at two weeks post surgery.

Day of Operation - I arrive at 11.30 am after a lovely morning tea with my dear husband who kindly lets me smell his coffee and doughnuts as I continue my fast from 7am. I am first on the table for today for which I am pleased. After the anaethisist runs though how he will put me to sleep and wake me up again I am prepped for surgety. Depsite my earlier shower, I am asked to shower again in a lovely betadine anticeptic solution playing particular attention to my feet!! So I lather up in what looks like fake tan gone wrong and rinse off before they tag me and paint my right ankle yellow. I am then taken off to the theatre where I wait for the surgeon to arrive. He writes on my feet (a clear “no” written on the left ankle and a picture drawn on the right) and off to sleep I go.

Post Op - I awake with a twitch in my arm and a dead leg. I have a nerve block in my leg. A double one just in case. I am in a daze as I am wheeled back to the ward where Dr J waits for me. All has gone well. My dead leg is raised on a pillow and in a backslab cast to my knee - all bound and swollen. After a light dinner and good drugs, the physio comes to visit and arranges crutches for my trip home - all going well tomorrow. I have a little practice and am surprised how hard they are to use when: 1) you have a really sore leg, 2) you have a nerve block in your grown which really hurts when you lift your left 3) you have just had a general anasthetic and 4) you are weak with hunger and tired with drugs. Anyway, I use a walking frame to get to and from the loo. Nerve block asside - when the leg goes down - it really really hurts…

Day 1 . A very uncomfortable night with lots of medication. I know when they are going to give me the good stuff as the nurse brings a friend in to check my labels. I am meant to head home but the anaethesist has done such a great job of the nerve block that I still cant feel my foot - and apparently when it wears off I really will and will need stronger medication. So after some discussion with the nurse (and not too much coercing required) I settle in for another day. I feel so crook I am happy to stay put for now.

Day 2 - I awake ready to head home and I ring my bell for more druge. I can definately feel my foot and I wait and wait and wait for a nurse but they seem to think I am not there!! So by the time they get there I need a morphine shot which means another 4 hours in hostpital. I will leave in the afternoon.

The trip home is awful. I feel so crook and prop myself in the back seat, open the window and stare afar - trying not to vomit At home I head straight to bed. Then after a nap I decide to head downstairs. A bad move. As soon as I get ther I almost cry wondering how on earth I can get back up. I feel just crap. Certainly not something I am used to. The foot really hurts still.

Days 3-7. Things are looking up. I spend another day in bed and then a few days on the couch. The instruction says stricly elevate leg for 7-10 days post op. I do this with only movement to get to the loo really. And to be honest - I didn’t really want to move any further because it really hurts to put my leg down any further than my heart level.

Day 7 - I am back to the surgeon. The cast comes off with the additional packaging and I am quite amazed really. My ankle is looking pretty normal and not too swollem and my scar is about 3 inches long - probably three times what I anticipated but looking impressive. The surgeon seems happy and they pop me in a CAM walker boot. The best description for this is a ski boot (and just as uncomfortable). I head home with physio instructions for the next 5 weeks until I see him again. I need to get off the crutches ASAP apparently. Are you kidding - that would hurt.

Days 6-8. The boot is incredibly uncomfortable to sleep in (which I must do for another 5 weeks) and the foot is still painful to put down.

Day 9 - Hey, I can walk. I just bit my lip and stepped down and it wasn’t too bad. Mind over matter. I can keep the leg down for longer which is encouraging and do my ankle exercises a few times a day. Feeling like I am on the mend.

Day 14 - Now hobbling quite well although starting to feel my hip and knee moving out of place as I put my ankle back to normal. Will have to address this somehow with an equally balanced shoe.

Day 15 - If my measurements are correct - My right leg is now 4cm’s smaller than before the operation - gee it is going to be scrawny when I finish. The boot is in fact getting looser as my muscles fade away.

Day 16 - Have balanced the legs with a bigger shoe but am now getting incredibly frustrated having to wear this big boot which slows me down considerably and stops me being my normal active - can’t sit still - self. Not a bad thing I suppose but still - mentally am having to prepare for another 6 or so weeks in the boot. So, I start to check off the weeks to when I can take the boot off. This makes me feel a little better as I can cross off at least week one and two.
So that is where I am today. Its all good. I can’t drive and still can’t lift or chase after my 2 year old - but I’ll be running in a few months and to be honest - I am almost in less pain now that before I had this thing done - depite the awkwardness of the rehabilitation required. I am feeling really positive.

I was allowed to actually take the CAM walker off at 6 weeks and was so excited. I spent another 6 weeks in an ASO brace which was still a challenge with any shoes other than my runners but certainly must more comfortable.
Will keep you posted.
This entry was posted on Thursday, August 7th, 2008 at 8:55 am.

OK, so skip forward 7 months and here I am today. I can't say it has been all fun and games. The rehab has been long and boring and frustrating. Whilst the ankle itself has not really caused me any pain at all post reconstruction the process of getting my leg muscles and foot back to how they should be has been difficult and continues. Most days are good with the main problem being a stiff ankle joint that is alot less mobile that it once was (particularly when there were no ligaments holding it together). This is usually remedied with a good massage of my legs and feet, a swim to loosen the joint.

All good though. And, I am sure in the not to distant future I will look back and consider this the best thing I ever did.

New Year - New Blog

Happy new year. This is my second attempt at blogging. My first came with nothing but administrative difficulties and most of my posts were lost somewhere in cyber land. So, I have decided with the new year comes a new blog so here it is.

I thought I would include my initail blogging inauguration for anyone who may be remotely interested. Here it is.

I must say I read a few blogs and despite finding them quite interesting, I have been pondering for some time whether I have anything interesting enough to write about. But then someone pointed out this is like a public journal... and this is true - it is like a sticky beak into the lives of others. So what would I want the public to know about me? Well maybe an introduction would help put context to any of my future entries...So, who am I? My name is Kerryn and I was born in Melbourne some 30+ years ago now. I grew up in the northern suburbs in Epping where I lived with my family until I was married.

My mother and father are retired. I am one of three children, the middle and only girl. I went to primary school in Epping and high school in Lalor. After school, I went on to uni and from uni I went to work so I have followed what many would consider to be a pretty boring life path. Although that said, I could not be happier with the way my life to date has turned out.

I married the love of my life at the age of 20 after 6 years (yes - I know that means I was 14 when we started to date!!). And I can happily say that we are this year in our 14th year of marriage and happy as ever. My partner is definately my best friend. We have a beautiful 2 year old son who is more and more like his dad each day. I still watch him with wonder that we created such an amazing little boy. That sounds corny I know but I would have said the same about that type of comment before I had a child.

As for me, well I would describe myself as extremely organised, maybe to some a bit to much so. I love lists and planning, I also strangely like cleaning (cause it is like organising), and I like mowing the lawns (as it is like vacuming the grass and therefore like cleaning). I do not like ironing... Or putting the washing away (although do feel rewarded when I do these tasks). We live in the hills and I like to be by the heater. I like to do crafty projects like mosaic and making cards and scrapbooking. I also enjoy getting out and pruning in the garden when the weather is nice. I am a Picean, born in February which I belived makes me a bit of a day dreamer but I don't really consider that to be the case. So, for anyone who is remotely interested, that is me and my first blog. And as I find inspiration I shall share it with anyone who cares to take an interest.