Being inspired to change your life from reading a book isn't that unusual. There are plenty of self-help, coaching and other generally inspirational books out there (or magazine articles for that matter) that can appeal to one's sense of excitement at starting afresh. Get your finances in order! Find a job that you love! Get fit! Stop eating crap!
My inspiration came from an unlikely (and rather embarrassing) source: a rather trashy 'chick - lit' novel by Irish author Cathy Kelly. She's one of those authors that churns out novels where there are several women with different issues with their jobs/partners/families who make a big change to their lives. Each of the character's stories come together towards the end of the book. Everyone lives happily ever after in their reinvented lives.
I borrowed the book from the library years ago and didn't realise at the time that a seed had been planted. You see, one of the main characters was doing the manic full-time work with two young children in childcare thing. It comes to a head and she quits her job to try being a stay at home mum. She loves it, but towards the end of the novel gets a part-time job at a rather lovely day spa. Happy in work-life balance land.
I would read this novel on my commute home from work each night. I only worked 3.5 days a week, but my youngest child hated being away from me at childcare, and the drop-off and pick-up from said childcare was harrowing on each of these days. And 3.5 days felt like 4 days, which at times felt full-time. I was over it!
My bus home would take me past the local sessional kinder. I looked jealously at the Mums (and the odd Dad) with their kids at the park next door. I assumed they must all be stay-at-home parents as the sessional kinder hours were so bizarre that holding down a standard hours job would be impossible!
I realised that I longed to pull both kids out of childcare and send the oldest to a sessional kinder. So I came up with a plan to do just that! It took a lot of planning (and wangling to actually get my son into the kinder program!!) but I did it.
And I also got lucky in two ways. I fell pregnant with my third child, and my work made me redundant! I felt like I'd won the lottery as I'd already decided to leave anyway.
My first year as a proper stay-at-home Mum is just over. The oldest is now at school and the younger two hang out with me. I've joined a playgroup and we have a pretty good life. I'm fortunate to still have some redundancy money left over plus we are trying to live more frugally. I'll probably have to get a job at some stage before the girls start school, but am planning an extra frugal next 12 months to delay this for as long as possible.
Why I love my playgroup
The baby was cranky, the 2 year old kept having melt-downs for no reason. I eventually realised that the 2 year old was soaking wet and had been to bed without her night nappy - so she'd had a bad night's sleep (the 5 year old had reported nightmares) and was tired and wet and unhappy.
I was extremely unhappy to find the bed, including pillow and doona to be soaked in wee. Cue cranky text message to the partner who had forgotten to put the nappy on. I really wasn't looking forward to a day of washing on top of dealing with feral children.
Playgroup was at 10.30am and I probably wouldn't have gone if I wasn't the only key holder going. If I didn't go, no-one could get in! So I shoved the feral kids in the car and we got there just in time.
And it was great. Despite the baby being clingy, the 2 year old and I had a great time "playing with our friends". I could bitch and moan and debrief and eat cake and drink coffee and offload the baby for cuddles and the day didn't seem so bad anymore. By the end I was laughing and by the time the partner called to apologise for the nappy incident I was happy enough to laugh it off and accept his apology.
And that's what I love about this group of women who randomly came together. They help each other and listen and give opinions but never judge. If you're having a bad day they'll go out of their way to help you, and you'll do the same for them when they need it. And they also bake great cake!
I was extremely unhappy to find the bed, including pillow and doona to be soaked in wee. Cue cranky text message to the partner who had forgotten to put the nappy on. I really wasn't looking forward to a day of washing on top of dealing with feral children.
Playgroup was at 10.30am and I probably wouldn't have gone if I wasn't the only key holder going. If I didn't go, no-one could get in! So I shoved the feral kids in the car and we got there just in time.
And it was great. Despite the baby being clingy, the 2 year old and I had a great time "playing with our friends". I could bitch and moan and debrief and eat cake and drink coffee and offload the baby for cuddles and the day didn't seem so bad anymore. By the end I was laughing and by the time the partner called to apologise for the nappy incident I was happy enough to laugh it off and accept his apology.
And that's what I love about this group of women who randomly came together. They help each other and listen and give opinions but never judge. If you're having a bad day they'll go out of their way to help you, and you'll do the same for them when they need it. And they also bake great cake!
The simplification project
2012 is my year of simplification - and it all started last year. Following a rather traumatic miscarriage in late 2011 I went downhill emotionally without even realising it. Being my third miscarriage, and already being blessed with a beautiful boy, I thought I was fine. I'd been through it before, and at least I had Lewis. I thought I was more resilient, I thought I could just pretend it didn't happen and move on. I plunged back into work, increasing my days (thinking there was no point staying part time if I wasn't going to have another baby). I grew more and more distant from my partner. I didn't want him to touch me. The thought of sex repulsed me. I was just going through the motions, as they say.
Months later, when I started taking long lunch breaks and spending them sobbing for 'no reason', I finally decided to seek some help. A friend had recommended a her counsellor, and as soon as I met him I realised why. I sobbed my way through my first appointment, discovering that I couldn't talk about my lost baby without crying. It became clear that I hadn't grieved properly, and needed to work out a way to do this.
It also became clear that I needed to take some control over my fertility 'issues'. Being in the public system, I had been told that I wasn't eligible for investigations into the multiple miscarriages because it wasn't "three in a row"; I'd had a "live birth". Not once did any of the doctors over my four or five times in hospital emergency (or at my GP later on) mention that investigations could be done by a GP.
My counsellor had suggested seeing a fertility specialist naturopath. I'll admit I was skeptical - I didn't understand what a naturopath could possibly do - but given I trusted my counsellor went on his recommendation. It turned out to be the best thing I've ever done (well, after going to the counsellor in the first place). She was amazing. She took my full pregnancy history, asked about my diet and also asked about what investigations I had had done. She was astonished to hear I had never had any investigations, and said I should have come to see her after miscarriage number one.
She recommended the following:
And that brings me back to my year of simplification. Changing my diet and drinking habits was the first big change. The three day caffeine withdrawal headache was worth it though - I now enjoy not relying on my morning coffee to stop the headaches, and later in the day wake me up. The health kick has been good for both me and my partner. We have both lost weight due to eating more healthily and increasing our amount of exercise. We have sustained this for 4 months now and I don't think we'll ever go back to our slovenly lifestyle!
The next big simplification was changing jobs. My job was very stressful with lots of responsibility. I often needed to check emails on my days off, go in sometimes on my days off and I even had to go in when I was still unwell after the miscarriage. My boss and others kept telling me to look after myself, but still expected the job to get done and the place not to fall apart. I decided a new job was needed that was stress free. I realised this meant taking a huge pay cut, but figured I just spend as much as I earn and that I would survive with less money.
Post-script: I wrote this post in 2012 and it was too raw to publish at the time. My health kick paid off and I became pregnant soon after I wrote this with Ginger who is now 2. I now also have a third child Darcy who is 8 months old - no trouble conceiving that time either. I can't say that the health kick continued, but I definitely drink less these days and try to stay healthy.
Months later, when I started taking long lunch breaks and spending them sobbing for 'no reason', I finally decided to seek some help. A friend had recommended a her counsellor, and as soon as I met him I realised why. I sobbed my way through my first appointment, discovering that I couldn't talk about my lost baby without crying. It became clear that I hadn't grieved properly, and needed to work out a way to do this.
It also became clear that I needed to take some control over my fertility 'issues'. Being in the public system, I had been told that I wasn't eligible for investigations into the multiple miscarriages because it wasn't "three in a row"; I'd had a "live birth". Not once did any of the doctors over my four or five times in hospital emergency (or at my GP later on) mention that investigations could be done by a GP.
My counsellor had suggested seeing a fertility specialist naturopath. I'll admit I was skeptical - I didn't understand what a naturopath could possibly do - but given I trusted my counsellor went on his recommendation. It turned out to be the best thing I've ever done (well, after going to the counsellor in the first place). She was amazing. She took my full pregnancy history, asked about my diet and also asked about what investigations I had had done. She was astonished to hear I had never had any investigations, and said I should have come to see her after miscarriage number one.
She recommended the following:
- Changing GPs to an obstetrics specialist (which I have now done).
- Getting this new GP to run all the relevant tests (she wrote a letter for the GP; and the GP happily obliged)
- Modifying my (fairly healthy) diet slightly by cutting out coffee, cutting down alcohol to 2 glasses a week (from my usual 1/2 bottle a night!), adding nuts and cutting out sweets.
- Taking supplements (CoQ10, Pregnancy multivitamin, fish oil)
- Reducing stress
And that brings me back to my year of simplification. Changing my diet and drinking habits was the first big change. The three day caffeine withdrawal headache was worth it though - I now enjoy not relying on my morning coffee to stop the headaches, and later in the day wake me up. The health kick has been good for both me and my partner. We have both lost weight due to eating more healthily and increasing our amount of exercise. We have sustained this for 4 months now and I don't think we'll ever go back to our slovenly lifestyle!
The next big simplification was changing jobs. My job was very stressful with lots of responsibility. I often needed to check emails on my days off, go in sometimes on my days off and I even had to go in when I was still unwell after the miscarriage. My boss and others kept telling me to look after myself, but still expected the job to get done and the place not to fall apart. I decided a new job was needed that was stress free. I realised this meant taking a huge pay cut, but figured I just spend as much as I earn and that I would survive with less money.
Post-script: I wrote this post in 2012 and it was too raw to publish at the time. My health kick paid off and I became pregnant soon after I wrote this with Ginger who is now 2. I now also have a third child Darcy who is 8 months old - no trouble conceiving that time either. I can't say that the health kick continued, but I definitely drink less these days and try to stay healthy.
The holiday sham and a toast to single parents
I often wonder if holidays are worth it. Tonight is a prime example. We are at the lovely family beach house on a 40 degree day. It's just me and the 3 kids. It started out well with beach time with some friends. It went slowly down hill from 3pm. It seems the baby doesn't like the heat (and may be unwell), the 2 year old has school sores as well as a very sore foot due to wearing her thongs incorrectly (blisters - eww!) and the 5 year old is just plain tired after a week of socialising (but best on ground by far).
It just took me literally 2.5 hours to get the baby and 2 year old to sleep. Dinner was dolmades and some cucumber in front of a movie as the baby started whinging early on. I had plans for a nice healthy dinner but it's now 11.15pm and I've only just sat down. Maybe tomorrow night.
I feel sorry for the kids to an extent. They are out of routine, over tired and possibly unwell. But I just want some time to myself! I'm always so tired as I stay up late to get some precious reading/computer time after they are in bed. And bed often isn't until 10pm when we are on holidays, but they still wake up super early!
Anyway, it's times like these, when the baby is screaming hysterically and the 2 year old is whinging, that I feel for single parents. It must be oh so very hard. No sleep ins! No-one to handball to.
Cheers to you all.
It just took me literally 2.5 hours to get the baby and 2 year old to sleep. Dinner was dolmades and some cucumber in front of a movie as the baby started whinging early on. I had plans for a nice healthy dinner but it's now 11.15pm and I've only just sat down. Maybe tomorrow night.
I feel sorry for the kids to an extent. They are out of routine, over tired and possibly unwell. But I just want some time to myself! I'm always so tired as I stay up late to get some precious reading/computer time after they are in bed. And bed often isn't until 10pm when we are on holidays, but they still wake up super early!
Anyway, it's times like these, when the baby is screaming hysterically and the 2 year old is whinging, that I feel for single parents. It must be oh so very hard. No sleep ins! No-one to handball to.
Cheers to you all.
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