Chicken pox
picture by nursing pins
We’ve been in quarantine for a couple of weeks now, since Miss Eight broke out in her rash. Initially, I kept the whole family home to ensure everyone caught it (thus giving them valuable immunity for the future) and to prevent us passing it on to everyone else at school. Short-sightedly, I sent the boys back to school after a week when they didn’t develop secondary symptoms (ie, the itchy rash associated with chicken pox). They were missing so much school and more than half the kids there have now contracted the virus, so what’s the point, right? Well, I sincerely hope we haven’t infected anyone else (who didn’t want to be infected) but that’s all spilt milk now.
Now the other three kids have developed their rash and, aside from general crankiness, they seem to be tolerating the discomfort very well. We chose not to vaccinate for what is normally a fairly harmless childhood illness. Dear husband remembers having chicken pox as a child, and so do I, so we figured we were safe being exposed to the kids. Most interesting to me: many of the children immunised against chicken pox at the kids’ school are still contracting it - albeit, usually in a milder form (but not always).
And even though my mother claims that I have had chicken pox twice in my life, I still assumed that having them, even once, equates with some sort of immunity. Apparently not. Darling hubby has now contracted a second case of chicken pox in this lifetime, and he is not a happy camper. His rash is mild but the migraine headache that seems to be the major symptom of adult chicken pox has knocked him flat. I feel terrible for him, but guess who ends up playing nurse … again!
While I anticipate at least one friend is going to want to bring her kids over and expose them to the virus, I can acknowledge that vaccinating against childhood illness is a choice we all get to make at some point in our parenting journey. I take responsibility for the decisions I’ve made with regard to my children’s health and I don’t like to be scare-mongered by doctors and friends who think that just because a vaccination is offered it should be accepted. Are we messing with the health of our children (and future grandchildren and beyond) by opting to vaccinate against otherwise ordinary childhood illnesses? I’m not so willing to choose convenience in this generation, without understanding how it might impact on the next.
September 5th, 2010 - Posted in gratitude, childhood, partnership, parenthood, duty of care, beliefs, health | | 2 Comments
Ethical pet food
picture by furtwangl
A friend in my network is taking her family home to New Zealand, and they cannot take “Shady” their four year old black Labrador X Kelpie with them. We agreed to adopt her and she has fit in with our family very well in all but one very problematic way: she loves chickens. Her previous family didn’t know it but she loves to chase chickens, she loves to catch chickens, she loves to romp on them and carry them around in her mouth. When they’re dead, she likes to eat them entirely–there’s no waste–unless we interfere at some point in this cycle. You can imagine, this has been very bad news for our chickens.
And it has been very bad news for Shady since this means she lives her life on a running chain while the chickens are out. We snap-decided the dog would have to go. The chickens were here first, they’re our priority, and having them free range the orchard was an important part of the design of the garden. We’d only just managed to breed some chicks for the first time. Now it’s chick: singular. And we’re down to two laying chickens from a population of nine. But I don’t want to dwell on the negatives.
I called a dog trainer for advice. He said that she’s had too many chickens now to be trained out of it. I’ve been trying to rehouse poor Shady for the past two weeks but she’s a bit of a hard sell now. And in this time we’ve seen there’s a really delightful side to Shady too.
She’s playful, and affectionate, and likes to stay close to her family. She’s undisciplined, but a good communicator. She doesn’t bark much and if she gets a bit of a run every day, she’s quite mellow the rest of the time. She’s a great kids’ dog, and she’ll roll over and present her belly for a scratch if you even so much as look in her direction. She delighted us with a flying leap off a pile of earth in the yard as she ran around with the kids like a crazy young pup. She’s managing to work her way into our hearts and I keep trying to think of ways to keep this dog away from our chickens. You’d be asking for trouble keeping chickens and then keeping a dog that kills chickens, wouldn’t you?
We’ve had our share of challenges keeping chickens here. Feral dogs and cats and foxes roam the neighbourhood at night. Rats and snakes also present problems if you don’t have a secure coop for the birds. And human error, I’m sorry to say, has lost us many birds as well. So it’s not like this dog is the first chicken disaster we’ve ever had to manage. We could pen the chickens. We could fence the dog. We could put the chickens in tractors. We could set up a perimeter dog run. We could … We could ….
At the same time, this is a situation we can avoid altogether by just taking Shady to the RSPCA and being done with her.
If only it were that simple. Do you know someone with a fenced yard who’d like a fixed, micro-chipped, vaccinated, wormed, flea-treated female dog? Please get in touch.
May 31st, 2010 - Posted in childhood, play, duty of care, sustainability, grief | | 4 Comments
Creative U-turns
picture by elventear
I’m coming to realise that I’ve bitten off more than I can chew this year by taking on the president role in the P&C. I knew it was self-sabotage when I volunteered and I knew I’d possibly regret it later, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Not that I don’t care about my kids’ school, because I passionately do, but school-related stuff officially gets to take priority over my own creative stuff now. Before that I had set myself goals and deadlines that I now know I’ll never meet because I keep bloody u-turning every time I find myself with regular time to write!
Uni is going great and I’m having a ball and if I didn’t have it for myself I think I’d have gone to pieces by now. I got a high-distinction and a distinction+ for my two creative pieces so far this year, which I’m really pleased with, but I’m not writing anything that isn’t for uni or school or social networking. Haven’t blogged in ages. I’m so sorry I lost momentum.
My creative energy is low, I realise, because it has been heavy-going the past month, physically, mentally and emotionally. It wasn’t just a month of personal travel and birthday parties (they were the highlights). It was also having a husband in bed for two weeks for a ligament in his back, my BIL away with family, so no extra help with the yard, uni assessment, taxi-ing the kids to sports, dance and other commitments, and somewhere in amongst all that, showing them some love because they aren’t seeing as much of their dad and me as they’re used to. The whole of the labour day long weekend we had our band friends recording in our garage. Fun, but demanding, and definitely not something I can contribute to in a satisfying way.
So I suppose I’ve let myself fall back to being a shadow artist, enabling others but holding myself back. I don’t know how to stop doing it.
May 8th, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, partnership, parenthood, duty of care, friendship, self-care | | 2 Comments
Sharing the load
picture by Jasmic
I still stand by the old adage that it takes a village to raise a child. I have great faith in the power of community living, and still believe it is necessary to put energy into building villages. Supportive, like-minded people just don’t appear in your life by magic.
So I was intrigued to read Cassie’s article on her new blog, Together Parenting. In particular, I loved her reference to a practice that I like to call housework swapping. This is something I have done and it is definitely a fast-track to more solid and reliable family friendships.
It helps immensely if your mother-community are relatively local and don’t have to travel far to arrive at your door. It is the locality issue, most of all, that hinders the development of an effortless back and forth of support between families. Which is why families in remote or regional areas often feel so isolated. Still, there are ways to connect with like-minded folks, though those ways will be unique to every community. The Australian Breastfeeding Association does a great job of networking mothers in urban Australia, but country mothers may find their options limited. Maybe there are community notice boards, or playgroups and mother’s groups in the area? Maybe there are special interest clubs to join, or maybe it’s a matter of placing an advertisement in the local free press. However might work, it’s fine to do. The biggest step is, of course, just doing it.
Once an initial connection is made, it is necessary to break the ice. Someone must be willing to play host to strangers in the first instance, but think of it this way: one small investment can pay dividends for years, and if you’re especially lucky, for the rest of your life. Do yourself a favour and make the first move. A family BBQ as Cassie suggests might be a great starting point. Don’t feel your house must be perfect to have guests come. They’ll be busy families too. And if they pass judgement on your first impression they’re obviously not ideal candidates for your village.
Regular get-togethers are a good idea, though I don’t believe it needs to be so formal as a regular day of the week, it can help get things off the ground in the early stages. Figure out your common interests and design your activities around them. Want to get out of the house with the kids? Fine. Want to knock a few tasks off your to do list? Great - but remember to return the favour. Want to stockpile meals for the freezer? Why not host a cook-in, plan the menu, pool the ingredients and send everyone home afterwards with a variety of meals they wouldn’t normally have ready-made in the freezer.
No need to bake before the gathering - do it together! There is no greater bonding exercise than the communal preparation of food. And the communal clean-up afterwards is more pleasant than being left with a sink full of dirty dishes as your happy house-guests leave your home - none the wiser to the extra stress they’ve caused you.
Housework and garden swapping are two of my favourite past-times. For some reason, I find washing someone else’s dishes, or vac’ing someone else’s floor much more enjoyable than doing my own. Or maybe it’s just having the company while doing it.
Here’s how it works:
Alternate hosts so that everyone gets the chance to have their house cleaned. Plan some activities for the children that require minimal supervision, such as sand-play or water-play in an outside area (bowls of water, cups and whisks and teapots - all those non-toys kids love so much). Guests can bring some of their own cleaning equipment if the host doesn’t have enough to go around. Task allocation can be done however the group pleases, but I have found it works best if the host does the more intimate stuff, such as cleaning her own toilets, while the guests do the generic windows, floors and walls. Over time, the barriers will break down. I assure you, you’ll all be cleaning out each other’s fridges and pantries and folding each other’s laundry in no time.
Most importantly, don’t force it. Do what works for the group without expecting too much of the time frame or the relationships. When it feels right, you’ll know it is right. Keep communication open among the group and don’t feel bad if some members fall away over time. The communal thing might excite you and me, but some people simply don’t know how to negotiate giving and receiving. That’s their loss. Not yours.
February 23rd, 2010 - Posted in gratitude, parenthood, community, duty of care, friendship, self-care | | 2 Comments
Back to school
picture by LittleMissSilly
We’re almost ready and it feels a little bit sad that the holidays are coming to an end. It wasn’t that long ago that the kids were all home with me every single day, all day and we could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted, without answering to anyone.
Now the school bags lie bulging by the front door. The new school shoes wait in the cupboard. We’ve done the necessary haircuts and bought new lunchboxes. Even Miss Four will have childcare three days a week (I expect) and I’m not sure I’ll know what to do with my empty nest. I seriously doubt it will equate with a tidier house.
And they are ready - oh so ready - to begin a new term with their new books and pencil cases. Ready to say goodbye to Mum and the long holidays and reacquaint themselves with their school friends and their petty games. Ready for their new teachers too. The children inform me they wish to ride the bus this year, and if at all possible, do after school care activities with their friends. Ready and willing! Am I able?
Why should I sign them up for after school care when I’m home every afternoon to meet them and make them afternoon tea? Don’t they love me anymore? Don’t they appreciate the effort it takes for me to have them ready for school? I’ll be back to the slog of washing uniforms and packing lunches and nagging about homework and trying to fit a meal between taxi-ing everyone to their extra-curricular activities. I’ll be returning to the morning rush, the ringing phone, the lost shoe or sock (singular - they never disappear in pairs, have you noticed?). Am I ready for this?
Despite the mess and the fights and the declarations of boredom, I love having my kids home for the holidays. I miss them when they’re at school. I wonder if they miss me.
January 20th, 2010 - Posted in personal growth, childhood, nostalgia, community, duty of care, friendship | | 1 Comments
