A love that's bursting at the seams

I think we have pretty well established that parenthood is not easy.  No really.  It is hard.  What with adapting to having something constantly depending on you (as in every waking, and well yes, most non-waking moments) for food, security, developing, as well as protecting them from themselves (for instance introducing the notion of what goes up, must come down - including your newly-standing self), it is not for the faint-of-heart.

But then, every so often, you get a day where you just have to step back and go wow.  No really, WOW.  Thinking secretly to yourself, how did I get this lucky to have the honor of being this amazing creature's mamma?  Today was such a day.

Mr. All Smiles donning his 'amber teething necklace' said
to relieve pain and inflammation associated with teething,
or, well - it just looks cool!

While we've had a few rougher-than-usual nights (seems the Temple of the Tooth is making room for the Temple of the Teeth), and we actually had to revert to a steady dose of paracetamol last night with the requisite ungodly wake-ups.  Nonetheless, his mamma's 3-hour sleep last night notwithstanding, someone was bright-eyed and bus(h)y-tailed at 06h30 this morning (at this point I feel it necessary to disclose that we did not in fact get to bed until after 01h00 after hosting a few folks for pizza and wine).  I was brave enough to try last weekend's strategy of bringing him to bed to 'play it out' for an hour or so, and then hopefully he would fall asleep again for two hours like last Saturday - but by the fourth time he was practicing the drums on daddy's (sore) head - I decided to get up and get going with him.  We jumped in the car with nothing but his breakfast in his little travel cooler (no nappy, no anything) and headed out to a local beach bar for mommy-and-Luka breakfast.  While mommy nursed a cappuccino, Luka sat every-so-happy in a big-boy chair, no restraining device, no high chair, just lounging with his arm on the arm rest, happily eating his yogurt, fruit and breadsticks, while gaping at the people, televisions and sights around him.  He was all smiles, to the general amusement of the staff and patrons alike.

At home, Luka took a standard 30-minute nap  (while mommy dashed off to pilates) to prepare him for the next adventure of the day - Swim Lesson #3 at a local hotel pool.  He had a marvelous swim class and was able to finally relax a little bit on the back-floating exercise,  and did remarkably well in the submerging section (cannot believe how these bubs are going to be swimming in no time!)  With Luka squealing with delight all the way, we changed him, and had lunch at the lodge.  He (for the first time in...I don't know, months!) sat happily on my lap for over an hour, feeding himself raisins, a teething biscuit and his macaroni, bean, mince lunch.  We took him home for another quick nap (while mommy got a pedicure this time), before his next big adventure.

The exhausted hasher kips on the mountainside above
Dili.

At 4pm, Chris loaded his Chariot Cougar I in the car and set off for the local Hash House Harriers club (while Luka might not remember this, he actually participated in a Hash run in utero). Chris probably should have known from the host that it would be hilly - but didn't put 2 and 2 together until they set off from the Co-Operativo Cafe Timor (CCT) compound and started heading up, up, and more up.  According to Chris, it took about three guys to haul the chariot and its passenger up the hill, and some careful braking on the way down. But it was all worth it when Luka was honored in the circle with his very own Hash t-shirt.  Someone clearly has been following his growth trajectory, since despite its adult S size, we're convinced he'll be in it before Christmas!

After the hash it was home for dinner, a bottle, a bath, followed by mommy's nightly full-body massage (something I have done since birth - for which he actually laid fairly still for once) and he was asleep before he even hit the bed....

Luka receives his first
hasherdashery.

What an incredible day to be a parent.  They're certainly not all like this, but boy do they make it worth it....

A painful proximity to poverty

One of the less appealing things about being an expat in a poor foreign country is the constant reminder of the inequalities in the world.  Since looking out for an infant I have become more acutely aware of the disparities that exist between the us and the them.  Compare a single, clean, vaccinated, insured, white baby in a sea of multiple, health and education-deprived local kids content to play with whatever is discarded as un-useful from their local malai family.

As we watched the DHL truck haul up six perfectly packed boxes of 'necessities' for our precious bundle this past week, I could not help the intense feeling of guilt in my own prosperity over the reality of those in who's neighborhood I am a guest.  Unpacking seemingly essential items including a specially designed chair to ensure comfort, ventilation and safety in this warm climate; followed by a specialty backpack to save my precious back from having to return to the chiropractor once more; to the UV hats and sunglasses to prevent the harshness of the equatorial sun; augmented by an array of mosquito nets and repellents to protect our bub against the devastation of mosquito-born disease that is par for the course here.

It is all sometimes too much.  How is it that human beings can live along a divide that means a single item deemed necessary to raise my child in comfort (not opulence) could equal the equivalent of a monthly income of my cleaning lady?

This is not meant to be a righteous post, but as we continue to strike a balance (or try to) between good and bad, necessary and waste, and in basically just doing the right thing in raising Luka, one cannot help but stop and ponder the realities of geobirthing-economics.  

God bless every child tonight. Rich, poor, every one.

Shop'a Thon

Here's a thought - don't take a 4/6 month old shopping in a huge mall for eight hours for pre-departure necessities like work clothes that actually fit and bottles he actually likes.  Alas, this is only one of potentially dozens of life's little lessons that we will still come to learn and accept as we stumble along the way.  I think partly it is our affinity for doing all things together that has us struggle with parting ways to get things done.  Perhaps it has something to do with getting married so young that we never really had separate adult lives, or just the fact that we love each others' company, but yes - we do shop, cook, eat, read, work out and pretty much do everything else together - so it was only natural for us to head off to the mall.  Well, Luka had other plans when he decided that Monday this week would come on Tuesday (we had a fabulous Monday with him btw), and he let the entire Canal Walk Mall in Milnerton north of Cape Town (mind you, a 40+km drive for us rural dwellers).

After throwing a number of tantrums and wanting to feed pretty much non-stop (making trying on nursing bras particularly challenging), we got home and the little dude actually gave us a good nights' rest - Chris put him down with a bottle while I made dinner and said Luka was actually staring at his cot at the end of his feed.  Poor little dude, maybe we'll take turns at the mall next time.

Haunted in the 'Hood

Alright, this post is probably waaaaaaaaaay overdue, but part of the reason for this post is also the reason why it hasn't happened yet - no one tells you exactly how hard it is going to be!  That's right.  For fear of labeling myself a 'bad mother' or 'not cut out for this' and all the other jazz us newbies believe to be true when we are honest (heaven forbid), there I said it - this is bloody hard!  Yes, I know, I've been to graduate school (twice), been to Iraq (and Afghanistan mind you), and been on a solo short final - and this is, hands down the HARDEST thing I have ever done.

Thanks to the lovely folks at my favorite radio station in the US, National Public Radio (NPR) for highlighting this* - and also for questioning the reasons why no one ever admits that it is not all sunshine and roses.  In their recent article "Parenthood Got You Down? You're not alone" they question this notion of new mothers feeling the need to project themselves as living in new-found infant-clad domestic bliss, simply loving her perfect baby (who, of course, reaches all her milestones way early).  Well, BEE-ESS (to keep it family-friendly here).

Yes! it is wonderful when baby smiles at you and adds a new sound to the 'cooh' chorus.  Yes! it is a great feeling when you walk around town and everyone tells you how cute and adorable your bub is, and no, they do not believe that all babies are this cute.  But, and this is the kicker, it is also DAMN HARD WORK.  Thank heavens we forget, or I suppose humanity would die out, and god bless our parents for also putting up with our sleepless nights and fussy spells.  But for some reason, there is a taboo on talking about how hard it is.  Don't get me wrong, I am not whining here, and I know, 'toughen up' right, 'you have so many more resources and knowledge than we did in our day' - fine, the Internet helps, but it doesn't get up at 2am to breastfeed, and it doesn't teach my baby how to self-soothe.

Fair enough, we (by that I mean the Marx-Serjak household) does not exactly make it easy on ourselves with traveling, moving and generally living in not-your-run-of-the-mill suburban sobriety, but that fact notwithstanding.  If it's not kindergarten waiting lists that you have missed because you did not put Peanut's name on it in your sixth week of gestation, then it's the constant bombardment with whether you need to raise him in a bilingual home, with or without television, in a pram or kangaroo caring...I mean - jowzer, the kid can't even wipe his own bottom yet!

Okay, getting off point here.  Yes, it is wonderful to have a baby, and yes, the smiles, coohs and laughs can melt your heart - but this is a good thing, because the sleepless nights, fears and frets over breastmilk supply, when to introduce solids, why is he not rolling, sudden fear of strangers, and the constant lack of time for yourself, can also melt your spirit.

So new moms unite.  Admit, it's awesome, but its damn hard work.  We know we'll survive (I mean, folks with way fewer parenting books than I seem to figure it out right?) but it is a constant battle of insecurity, worry, indecisiveness, exhaustion, guilt, self-blame - and that's just before 9am.

Today I salute all the dozens of new moms (both my friends who have been indescribably supportive) and those I don't know who read this blog for lack of anything better to do.  I know you are amazing, strong, resilient.  And yes, I know what you are going through.

There, I said it.

*  (h/t Rachel for posting on FB)