Have I let MYSELF go? Or THAT self go?

Last week I stumbled on upon the blog of SuperKawaiiMama. I must admit my first thoughts were; wow she is so gorgeous and such a great writer. Not often you get that combination. How does she manage to look so good and be a full time mama?

Then, coincidentally the following day I read her post “Why Do Women Let Themselves Go?” and it got me thinking. Instead of bombarding her blog with my essay of a reply I have answered her question here and I’ll link it through.

SuperKawaiiMama is very gorgeous and very glamorous. From her photos I see that she has a lot of beautifully applied makeup, her hair has been set and her clothes are brightly coloured, perfectly cut works of retro art. Her section entitled daily outfit provides readers with a glimpse into her pretty world.

To SKM I’d be her poster girl for “women who have let themselves go” what with my dark coloured clothing, bits of beige and taupe here and there. My often washed but not set hair, my scuffed ballet flats and my scruffy tops and jeans. I certainly don’t wear makeup most days and I never wear heels during the day anymore.To me, I still look maybe a tiny bit stylish but I certainly would fall into SKM's definition of letting myself go. Yes often, I wear whatever I can grab quickly before the little one starts tearing things off shelves or emptying my makeupbox.

So, have I let myself go? No, I do not feel that I have. I think I have let “that” self go.

Which self? The one who valued appearances so highly. The one who got up early to set her hair in hot rollers, apply makeup and squeeze into gorgeous outfits and high heeled shoes. That was not MY self but rather, my appearance. To me the sense of self is a complex thing.

It runs deeper than MAC Mineralize foundation and glittering Jimmy Choos. It is who you are to you, to your friends, your family and the world. What you love, what you value and what you think… for me, it isn’t what I wear or how many heads turn when I enter a room.

Sure, having a baby has meant that even if I wanted to spend 40 minutes on my face and another 40 on my hair, I couldn’t. Why? Because I get so little sleep as it is, I refuse to get up at 4am to apply makeup and blow dry my hair and Tinker won’t sit still long enough for me to do it while she is awake. As for my clothes. Well if I am honest, there are 3 reasons for my glamourless outfits:

1. When I became a mum, fashion, glamour, entertainment seemed to pale in comparison to the depth of feelings I have about life, babies and love now. I’m just not that bothered.
2. Having always been super thin I went from 45 kilos on the day I announced my pregnancy to 73 the day I gave birth, I guess to me no matter how gorgeous the outfit is, I won’t love my appearance until I am back to my old shape. Sure I’m no oompah loompah but to go from an Aussie size 6-8 to 10-12 is a big change and if I am honest I don’t think I’m that worried about it. With my best friend having cancer and my beautiful daughter growing up and amazing me every day, fitting into a teeny tiny dress isn’t really on my radar. Life is short.

3. Practicality and comfort. Painting, cooking, playing in the sand, at the park… none of these things lend themselves to dry clean only outfits and Gucci heels. I do love nice clothes but I don’t enjoy getting dressed up every single day.

So have I let myself go? What do you think? Have you let yourself go? I suppose looking like a million bucks and having heads turn when I enter the room just doesn’t do it for me anymore so in my mind I have moved on. I think of the frum women and the Muslim ladies who wear very modest dress. Have they let themselves go or are they just asking the world to value them for who they are not what they look like?


Thank you SKM for asking this question. It really raises some interesting issues. I like to look nice but I'm not sure glamour has a place in my daily life. It is hard isn't it? To know what to teach our daughters... To value who they are as people not what they wear and what they put on their faces. I have mixed feelings. Tell me yours!

A gift... Not quite!

toonpool.com

A few weeks ago I was reading this article about the little British girl who at age 2 has joined MENSA. It got me thinking about giftedness and parenting.

When I was at primary school there was a girl called Despina who had no friends at all. She was arrogant and pushy in the playground and very annoying in class. One day I got chatting to her, I must have been about 9. She told me she was a genius and in a few months her parents were sending her overseas to a special school for extremely gifted children. She knew her IQ and went on to tell me all about the yearly testing she had been having since she was 3. I remember feeling rather perplexed and quite sorry for her when told me that she had no friends because "other children will always be intimidated by my intellect, that's why my mum and dad are my friends instead."

I have never had my IQ tested, unless you count those wacky quizzes on Facebook that end up costing you money and sending you weird text messages. I don't think my score would be very high. In fact I think I'm pretty ordinary when it comes to most things. Except folding towels. I'm quite talented with that. Oh and I'm definitely a whizz when it comes to saying the wrong thing. I've got that down to a fine art. In fact if you looked up "foot in mouth disease" you'd see my pretty picture staring back at you.

My daughter, however, is very bright. She is 18 months old and knows most colours, counts to 10, knows most shapes, shares nicely, shows empathy and learns very quickly. She is very funny, she has a cute sense of humour. She is very articulate and asks the funniest and surprising questions. People sometimes tell me she is gifted. I'm not sure I agree with that. According to my family, I was the same at Tinker's age and I'm no bloody genius. I don't think doing things months before other kids makes you a genius. In fact I don't think being extraordinarily bright is a gift at all.

From what I've read, most true genii become academics, many are lonely, most find school very difficult socially and many suffer from depression. Doesn't sound like much fun to me. I wonder what became of Despina, she was so bright and so very lonely. She was awkward and dark beyond her years. I wonder if her parents are happy with the approach they took to raising her. Ruth Lawrence the hot-housed British girl who went to Oxford at age 12 had a tough time and is now completely estranged from her parents.

Kate Hilpern wrote an interesting piece for the Guardian last year. You can read it here. One of the key points I took away from her piece was simply asking the question why? What is the point of accelerating our children so fast that they enter university in their early teens? How does that help them as individuals? In the end when the 19 year olds have their doctorates aren't they then on par with the 40 year olds? What kind of advantage does it give these kids entering the race early when we all end up at the same finish line eventually?

Parenting magazines are full of adverts for companies offering to test your child for giftedness, early entry to school, they offer various approaches to IQ testing. I don't know, I think I'd be very wary of going down that path with my precious girl. What do you think? Of course I'm not saying we should go all Pol Pot like and cripple the clever, but I wonder if things are going a bit too far?

Now I'm the first person to admit that I want Tinker to have the best education we can afford, I want her to be exposed to as many fun new things as she likes. Knowledge is definitely power. I don't want Tinker to be bored at preschool and I set about to find a really special toddler class for her to attend. She starts Mandarin next month and, and yes I do enjoy teaching her new things all day. I think the sky is the limit as far as play based learning is concerned. This is why I am not a lawyer anymore. This is why I choose to be at home with my little bunny. I love teaching her things and watching her grow and learn. It is fun. Hot-housing isn't fun, making your children do things they don't love isn't fun. I guess that's the issue.

Tell me your thoughts on this issue!

Weaning Baby, Weaning Mama

credit fisheaters.com

I was going to start this post by noting that breastfeeding has been in the news a bit lately, what with the tragic suicide of Katy Isden but then when I thought about it a little more I realised it has been in the news for ages. It is always in the bloody news! Breastfeeding is one of those topics that always draws a crowd and usually an opinionated one at that.

For as long as I have been reading parenting magazines and perusing parenting/childbirth Internet forums I have found the term Breastfeeding Relationship a little hard to swallow. I can't quite say what it is about it that I dislike, but it really annoys me. Not as much as Birth Rape though, that is one term that really gets my goat. I'm getting angry just thinking about how much I hate that term. Don't get me started! Another concept I have never really grasped is the ABA Meeting. I don't feel the need to attend a get together with a bunch of mothers who breastfeed. It seems off to me, like we should also have meeting for mothers who push red prams, or others who feed formula or mothers who don't eat meat. I don't know, it irks me.

My little Tinker is now 16 months old and still breastfeeds. Well, that was the case until I got sick last week and discovered that 2 days of vomiting not only dehydrates a person but it also stops lactation. My daughter has never been a good eater, so she is quite attached to her 4 daily breast feeds. I had no intention of weaning her, my plan was to allow her to self wean when she was ready. I had guessed it would be from around age 2 but I didn't really know.

Now that I have had to wean her all of a sudden I have had to face some unexpected feelings. Guilt is one of them, of course. I think mothers are just programmed to feel permanently guilty aren't they? Feeling bad that the child tripped and fell, feeling bad that the nappy wasn't fastened correctly so it pinched her skin, feeling bad that the garden still isn't finished and the child doesn't have a lawn to run on yet, feeling bad for parking the child in front of Teletubbies so Mama could have a shower alone... It goes on. Feeling guilty wasn't a surprise but what was surprising was my grief.

It wasn't because Tinker was throwing herself at my chest 20 times a day yelling "mama please, mooolk? all gone mama? mooolk all gone? Nooooo!" because that was sad and it did break my heart but I think the sadness that I felt at the loss of... dare I say it... our breastfeeding relationship was actually real and it wasn't felt in response to her being so upset. I felt sad for me. I felt sad that I could no longer be the ultimate comfort for my baby and I felt sad that I couldn't allow her to gradually stop doing something that came naturally to both of us.

Being of average emotional intelligence I can't put my finger on why it is so important to me, but it is. All the other overwhelming feelings you get as a new mother were not surprising to me. I was not surprised at the protective lioness I became nor the completely irrational sleep deprived nut case I became after a year went by and I still didn't have my baby sleeping through the night. However this grief about having to wean her, and wean me has been a real shock.

I'm torn between getting medication to kick start the lactation again or just persevering with this weaning process. So far I have managed to get her to a point where she isn't hysterical about not having the breastfeeds in the day time but she is still hanging on to the 7pm and 7am feeds. For now there is a small amount there but it won't last so I guess in a few days it will be gone and I suppose she will then have to accept that she has weaned. And so will I.

I'm interested in your thoughts on this topic.