How to Be the Perfect Dad

 It's been a while... oh blog. How much I have missed you!

All in a very good cause though.

Because the fruits of my absenteesim are out... in the form of my first book.

For any guys out there, expecting their first chid - this is the book for you.
And girls, looking for the perfect christmas gift for your hubby?
Give them every piece of information they'll ever need to know, whilst you go and get your nails done.

And now that is over, I will be back to give you some love and attention very soon.
Until the next book... that is...

Book is available in all good bookstores or online at www.germinalpress.com.au

Where would I be without you?

F*cked?

Screwed?

Up the proverbial creek and severely lacking that much desired paddle?

Abso-freakin-lutely.

Yup, I'll confess, even as one of the more tenacious (a.k.a. control freak) and independent women of the world, the pregnancy and parenting life threw me many curly ones when I signed up... all of which (though it appals me to admit) I could never have survived alone.

Trying to work and function whilst feeling like I was permanently in freefall with a killer hangover - the first 12 weeks of pregnancy were torture. And as my bump grew bigger, my ability to survive alone gradually disintegrated, to the point where I couldn't even reach my feet to put my shoes on myself.

Labour lasted a tumultuous 3 days, in which the birth plan was about as relevant as my Year 10 algebra homework. And though my heady days of back to back partying trained me well for functioning on zero sleep, the early months of newborn insanity took sleep deprivation to a whole new level.

But what made it all, not only tolerable, but also created some of the best moments of my life?

Simple...

You.

My Partner.

The Dad.

You were there to help me when my feet became about as inaccessible to me as the Bolivian plains. To always get things from the bottom drawers, and to laugh with me about the ridiculousness of my situation when unable to heave myself off of the couch.

When labour struck, not only were you there through every arduous moment, you were that much needed face of love and dependability, who in the frenzy of it all going to shit was there to tell me it would all be OK.

And through those early months of endless sleep deprivation and feeding, you were there every step of the way - from the midnight explosive nappy situations, to your magic 4am baby settling touch.

You bring reason and sense to the chaos, and you make it clear that we are doing this together - no matter how exhausting and out of control baby-life can get. 

I'd secretly doubted you could really pull off the support role for pregnancy and labour, because what I truly needed was so intangible. I didn’t need the bins taking out, or the steps fixing. There was no job description or To Do list, and to be honest, neither of us had a clue what was coming our way.

But what you managed, without question or prompting, to clue yourself into what was happening and be my wing man, my cheer squad, and my carer all in one... which I know for anyone - male or female - is a challenge.

And you did it all so easily, simply because I could see that this time you really wanted it.

And the biggest privilege of all for me?

To witness you grow into the most incredible father I know.

So, for anyone out there concerned about becoming a dad, or fretting over being up to the challenge of the labour room, to succeed you just need to give in and embrace the idea of being a dad... the rest will simply follow.

So get involved, show her you give a shit, because it will make the world of difference to her, and you never know - you might just enjoy it...

Remote Controlled

One of my biggest failings as a parent is TV.

Yes, I ashamedly hold my hand up to the confession that screentime is the babysitter in our house.

The love affair started very innocently as a single rendezvous with Iggle Piggle and his lovely bright garden, but it swiftly led to my days being increasingly controlled by DJ Lance Rock, the Wiggles, or a myriad of other brightly dancing characters.

And every time I reach for the remote - those times I need to do some work, laundry, or make dinner – I’m always painfully conscious of that niggling maternal guilt of not tending to my 3 year old as best I could.

However, on the flipside, there have been many times where I’ve been so grateful for the few minutes grace, that if I ever met an Octonaut in real life I’d kiss him and buy him a pint.

So is there a happy medium? And more importantly, how much is too much?

The Facts

Well, the current Australian guidelines for screentime for preschoolers are that children under 2 years old do not spend any time viewing TV or any electronic media, and children 2-5 years watch less than 1 hour per day.

An Australian study of preschoolers (aged 1-4) found that a child’s risk of being overweight increased by 6% for every hour of TV watched per day, and if that child had a TV in their bedroom, the odds of being overweight leapt an additional 31% for every hour watched.

In a comparison of children who had more than 2 hours screen time a day to those who had less, those with over 2 hours are at increased risk of being:

·   Overweight

·   Less physically active

·   Drink more sugary drinks

·   Snack on foods high in sugar, salt and fat

·   Have fewer social interactions.

Excessive TV has also been linked to other negative outcomes such as poor cognitive performance, antisocial behaviour and reduced sleep time. And research now indicates that for every hour of television children watch each day, their risk of developing attention-related problems later increases by 10%. To put it into context, if a child watches child watches 3 hours of TV a day, that child would be 30% more likely to develop attention deficit disorder.

Scary stuff.

What can you do to cut it down?

·   Limit channel surfing or background TV. When a chosen show is over, turn it off.

·   Limit TV on weekdays and keep it as a something special for the weekend

·   Identify non-screen activities that your child likes around the house

·   Eat at the table as a family, not in front of the TV

·   Have TV time happen around the same time every day, so your child knows that TV isn’t an ever-present possibility.

·   Always watch your child so you can talk about what you are watching. Children at this age don’t know fact from fiction.

·   Model TV viewing for your child. If you are sitting in front of the TV for hours, they will want to know why they can’t too.

But does what they watch make a difference?

Personally, in our house it is only ever educational or age appropriate shows. Yo Gabba Gabba being a firm favourite, closely followed by Octonauts and Sesame Street. So I feel a little vindicated that at least we are learning and growing as we stare at the box. But we will certainly be installing some stricter viewing rules to ensure we fall under that 1 hour a day... right after this episode of Dora finishes...

Do you have any particular rules when it comes to TV?

How do you find the ‘Off’ button?

Girls can't drive trucks!

It's a typical Monday morning and my three year old son, Hamish* and I, are heading out to do our weekly grocery shop.

Yet, when I discover my husband’s truck is blocking the driveway and I go to move it out of the way, I’m immediately shot down by a small voice behind me shouting “Mummy, girls can’t drive trucks!” And it seems this opinion is utterly unchangeable, judging by the tantrum that develops when I continue into the cab!

Once the drama was over and we are happily ensconced in my little Mazda, I try and tackle the discussion of why he has this opinion.

I begin by explaining that despite their physical differences, a girls driving ability is equal (some would argue better?!) to a boys, and anyone can drive any vehicle, regardless of gender.

But as the conversation progresses, I quickly learn that this absolute opinion he holds isn’t confined to driving trucks, but also applies to a whole host of other activities that girls can’t do - mowing the lawn, using power tools and climbing ladders – to name a few.

Every day I watch in fascination as Hamish tries to make sense of the world by establishing a rule for almost everything that crosses his path. But what are all the influences that drive children to reach these conclusions, and at which point are they irreversibly set in stone?

Are gender expectations simply part of our culture?

Through a study of our immediate world for a week, I became increasingly conscious of the amount of everyday gender traditions we simply accept as normal:

·       All the bin trucks and haulage trucks we passed – driven by men

·       The diggers and heavy machinery on the building sites – again, all operated by men

·       The grass at the oval – mowed by a man

·       Shop assistants – all women

·       Carers at preschool – all women

And though I realise that employment in many roles are traditionally gender split because of personal preference (I could drive a bin truck if I wanted to, just as my husband could be a pre-school teacher), I am starting to understand where Hamish’s theory originated.

The difference is, he interprets this lack of girl participation in traditionally male roles as a definitive rule, not a choice – in his mind if you could drive these vehicles, surely you would?!

The domestic roles in our house tend to be traditionally split by gender too, it works for us whilst we are renovating and I’m pregnant – my husband fixes and builds, whilst I cook and clean (though I was pretty handy with an angle grinder in my pre-pregnancy days!)

But how do we explain that gender roles can be reversed, it’s just that in our busy worlds, we still instead tend to still follow traditional gender roles?

Nature or nurture?

Whether it’s the environment we create, or something we are born with, the nature/nurture argument has been hotly debated for decades, and is not a straightforward one to resolve.

A stock-take of Hamish’s favourite toys shows he has the usual mix of gender-neutral things like teddies, Playdough, Lego, puzzles, and slightly boyish ones such as matchbox cars, a play garage and the much loved plastic dinosaurs.

There is certainly no guns, shooting, fighting or violence of any kind, but also no dress-ups, dolls or tea-sets either.

I’m unsure whether we bought the boyish toys because he showed interest, or he showed interest because we sub-consciously bought boy things in the first place. But it is certainly our nurture influence that there are no girly toys in the mix.

What I am also sure of, however, is that amidst any toys, he has a natural tendency to give most gender-neutral games a boy-ish orientation – from teddies speeding around sofa-cushion racetracks, to car crash carnage built from Lego. 

The influence of preschool and peers?

Without doubt, time at pre-school has certainly had a major influence on Hamish’s evolving expectations of gender and play. From statement such as ‘girls aren’t my friends’, to excuses such as ‘but Robin* kills people’ when reprimanded for pretending to shoot me, the preschool environment and which gender children he plays with, already seem to be firmly segregated in his mind.

So it seems there are myriad factors influencing our children’s gender expectations every day, and only some of them are within our control as parents.  What we can do is educate with the examples that are within our control, and hopefully be alert enough to guide through those that are not.

Can girls now drive trucks?

Well, Hamish did eventually accept that girls can indeed climb ladders, drive trucks, and push mowers, just as much as boys can clean, do laundry, and play at princesses. Whether he understood that this means genders are different, but still equal, is yet to be tackled… 

And meanwhile, my repertoire of gender-neutral games is growing by the day – Playdough picnic, anyone?

What influences do you believe mould your child’s opinions?

Have you managed to find a way to raise a gender-neutral child?

What are your thoughts on the gender expectations of today?

*names have been changed

Find me and all the comments, at birth.com.au

How big is your bump?

I've completely lost track of the number of comments I've received throughout my pregnancies on the size of my bump.

Ranging from the quippy “come on, it must be twins”, to the flagrant “OMG you are HUGE”, and coming from every facet of life – well meaning friends, colleagues, strangers on the bus – they never fail to stop me in my tracks!

The social etiquette of pregnancy has always intrigued me, because the minute your belly pops you become subject to perpetual social observations from whoever crosses your path – usually completely uninvited comments, but they happen nonetheless.

And sometimes I struggle to remain tight-lipped, as I wonder why pregnancy falls outside the realm of acceptable social remarks? Why is it suddenly completely acceptable to happily comment on a person’s shape and size, when in any other context it would be inappropriate?

And does it happen for everyone – large and small?

Baby bumps come in all shapes and sizes, and they are not always a direct correlation to your own body size – very similar to other body parts such as your nose, ears, and hands, I guess.

Never, however, has someone stopped me the street to breezily remind me that my nose is slightly large for my face (which it unfortunately is), or my hands are strangely oversized for my arms (which is also quite true!). Yet this unspoken, yet important social decorum of quietly accepting people’s idiosyncrasies is all but flung out the window when it comes to anything pregnancy related.

I must admit that size-related comments such as these caused me great angst through my first pregnancy: Am I really too big? Is there something wrong? Will it fit when the time comes to push him out?!

Second time around, however, I quite happily smile and embrace my humungous bump, because I know it means I have a very healthy, happy and thriving little passenger on board.

But what compels people to be so outspoken on the subject?

It also seems that being pregnant leaves you open to public commentary at almost every level available, this phenomenon is not simply limited to observations about your waistline…

1) Stranger touching your belly: I heard about this one but never thought it would actually happen to me, but it did just last week.

2) Observations on your deportment: Yep, the word ‘waddle has been thrown my way many times, from as early as 16 weeks.

3) Critique on choice of clothing: Absolutely, from tsk tsk at continuing to wear wedges after a bump was visible, to concerns about skinny jeans.

4) What labour is in store: Again, I was surprised, but it did happen when a stranger on a bus happily stated to me “that one is going to be difficult to get out!”

5) Exercise: I’ve had declarations of horror from both sides on this subject – one appalled that I would even consider stepping foot in a gym, and another questioning why I had stopped jogging.

Naturally, none of these things happen when I’m not pregnant!

Of course, there is another aspect to the eternal bump discussions, and that is the myths attached to the shape, size and position that apparently indicate whether it is a boy or a girl. The old wives tale suggests that front and low is a boy, whereas high and visible from the back means a girl.

Apparently both of my bumps 'look' like boy bumps – never mind whether it was my first or second baby, how my body coped with the change of pregnancy, or most importantly how many Tim Tams I'd eaten that day.

One was a boy and one is a girl, so in my case it wasn’t so accurate. 

But how does your bump size up to the myth?

What is the most outlandish pregnancy comment you've received?

And do you find yourself commenting to others without qualm?   Find me and all the comments, at birth.com.au