RAMBLES ABOUT LIFE

As I mentioned in my profile, I am a ice-cream addict. I love just about every single flavour and it is never the wrong time of night or day for me to eat it.

According to my mother, my addiction to ice-cream is a hereditary thing. She tells me that when she was young her grandfather would always wake her and my aunt up late at night when all the others went to sleep and they would sit and eat ice-cream out of a giant tub together. She said that being quiet was never a problem because they were all too busy stuffing their faces that the changes of speaking were slim to none.

When I was about four years old, my grandfather, who eats a scoop of ice-cream in a cone every night of the week for as long as I’ve been alive, began serving me a cone with ice-cream every night also.

I loved it. At this stage I was the only child in the house old enough to eat ice-cream so it was like my little treat. On hot summer days the whole family would sit outside on the deck with a bowl of cone of ice-cream and munch away. It was the perfect desert following a home cooked meal by my grandmother.

My favourite time was on school holidays and my grandparents would take us out to McDonalds for a lunch treat and then I would have a chocolate Sundae for lunch and my usual ice-cream scoop in a cone for dinner. I don’t think anything I ever did in the holidays could compare to the excitement I got out of eating ice-cream twice in one day.

My ice-cream addiction heightened in 2000 when my family went to Europe. The best ice-cream I ever had in my entire life came from two sweet shops in Croatia. Because it was a stinking hot summer, ice-cream was basically the only viable thing to eat all day. Even though we attempted to eat all the delicious food people made for us, all we wanted was the icre-cream.

Throughout the day all I wanted was ice-cream. The best thing was that it was dirt cheap. A bowl with three flavours, towered on top of one another was about $2 so including in my habit was so easy.

According to my father, he spent more money on ice-cream then he did on accommodation. Slightly exaggerated, but possibly not far off.

The best part was that this sweet shop was in the middle of the town in Croatia so we were able to enjoy ice-cream with all our friends. The sweet shop was a central and integral part of my trip as it was a meeting point and ended up being the last place we went to at the end of our trip. Everyone noticed how much my family loved the ice-cream that they all shouted us a last round if ice-creams on our last day. I was in heaven.

After coming back from Croatia, my mother, who is just about as addicted to ice-cream as me, and I decided we needed to find an ice-cream shop that was equal to the two in Croatia. In early 2001 we found it!

“Bar Italia” in Leichhardt became our new ice-cream heaven. We began having parties and functions here (lucky for them they also have great food) just so we could have their ice-cream for desert. Not suprisingly were weren’t the only ice-cream addicts because on any hot summers night the line for the ice-cream was out the door. When they introduced “take away in a tub” my mother and I were so excited that we bought enough ice-cream to last any normal person a month, (for my mother and I about ten days) and we got to enjoy our Bar Italia hit at home as well.

Then last year we discovered a small family business called Alpino. They have make beautiful shapes such as hearts and tear drops out of chocolate and then on the inside they put ice-cream. It looks beautiful and tastes exotic. My discovery of Alpino could not have come a better time.

I used their ice-cream for all the big events leading up to my wedding, including my engagement and kitchen tea. On the wedding night I even had the tear drops served for dessert. It was a very special touch of something that I love very much. Anyone who knows me well enough appreciated the gesture also.

I now have a little brother who is rivalling any ice-cream addiction that I have. He comes to my house for ice-cream, eats ice-cream at my mothers, then goes to my auntys and has ice-cream there and then last stop to my grandmothers for ice-cream in a cone with my grandfather. He could eat ice-cream day and night. It’s hilarious when my mother calls and says “Don’t give him ice-cream he already had two this morning”. By this stage it’s too late because he is so little and cute and to deny him anything is just impossible.”

Reading back on the entry I think what sort of mental case can write so much about ice-cream. My mother just walked into my house and read the entry. She laughed and said, it might be 8:30am but lets have some ice-cream. But as I walk into my living room, my little brother has beat us to it, he is sitting on the couch munchig away at a bowl of chocoloate swirl ice-cream. How cute.

Since the last week in June I have had at least one function per weekend and I must admit that I am exhausted.

This coming weekend will be the final in a long list on weddings, christenings, engagement parties, birthday parties, hens nights, kitchen tea’s and funerals.

I recently sat down and decided to calculate the expense of all these events and once I worked out the final figure I ended up on the floor in a shocked mess.

Now coming from a European background, Croatian to be exact, nothing is done on a small intimate scale. Everything is elaborate, extravagant and in extreme excess.

For example, at any wedding which I may attend money is the only decent gift. Presents are a waste and if you should walk in with a gift, and its not a car or a house then you should seriously reconsider. So for a acquaintance that is not a direct friend but a friend of a friend the usual monetary gift would be $300. For a close friend, $500-$800 (depending on how close) and for a family member $1000. Yes you read right, $1000!

To explain the attempted logic at this, I have been fed the following statement from my family for my whole life, “You give this much and when it’s your turn they will return the favour”. As stupid as this may sound, this is in fact very true. When I got married I also received very generous gifts, such as those mentioned above, so I guess it’s all about give and take.

Either way, when you have a mortgage, a car, credit cards and other general expenses gathering and parting with this money is not easy.

So basically every fortnight when I get paid I have to remove a particular amount of money for events for the coming two weeks. I always think this pay I will buy myself whatever, and then I remove the “gift funds” and any gifts for me are out of the question.

So Christmas is around the corner and now I have to start saving for Christmas presents. I have already told immediate family that there is a $20 limit and that I have been bleed dry from all the events this year.

On top of that my credit card is through the roof and my husband, who has no idea about paying the bills or household expenses has lost the plot about the “amount owing”. When I sat him down and showed him the expense list he almost had heart failure. I took great satisfaction in the fact that most of the events came from his family so he couldn’t say that “it’s always my family”, a common line in the life of marital bliss.

On the bright side I have to admit that all these events are great parties and the company is always fantastic.

I also am able to get dressed up and dance and party all night. This is great because you get to party hard at another persons expense which doesn’t really happen all that often.This means an endless nights/days supply of food and drink, which for a poor person like myself is always a blessing.

So after this weekend my social life will be non existent. I will be at home from Friday to Sunday. At 5pm on each of these evenings I will be sitting myself in front of the TV eating ice-cream and watching a movie.

My hubby thinks it won’t last very long. According to him, even though I complain about all these events, secretly I love it. “It won’t take long before I catch you all dressed up in one of you dresses, your super high glamour shoes and all your bling on dancing around in our room pretending you are wedding” he says.

As much as I hate to admit it, I am sure I will miss, but I will never admit to getting dressed up and having no where to go. That’s just embarrassing.

I have always really loved reading anything written by Mia Freedman. I remember first reading her work when she was working for Cleo and Cosmopolitan magazines. It was that stage when according to my parents I was “too young” to read such magazines so I would save my lunch money and then by the magazines and leave them in my locker at school. My friends and I would then share them and rotate who bought each it each month. I was such a rebel.

Freedman’s work is about all the things that I have noticed my blog is also about- gossip, shopping, men, babies, relationships and clothes. Admittedly I find all these things completely trivial and when I write about them I fell shallow and hollow, but they are the events and issues of my daily life and I have found that writing about them has brought me much joy because I feel like I can give that satirical commentary that just wouldn’t be appropriate or possible while these events were taking place.

About Mia Freedman

According to her blog, Freedman began her career at 19 working for Cleo magazine and has subsequently worked and written for magazine such as Cosmopolitan (as editor-in-chief) and Marie Clair. As editor of Cosmo she launched several stand-alone titles including, Cosmopolitan Hair and Beauty, Cosmopolitan Pregnancy and Cosmopolitan Brides.

Freedman also appeared for several years on the Today Show, discussing news and lifestyle issues surrounding women, fashion and popular culture. She also worked for Channel 9 as Creative Director and released a book called “The New Black” and she is currently writing her second.

She also writes a weekly column for the Sun Herald and Sunday Age.

She began her blog in 2007, where she discusses issues such as parenting, sex, fashion, celebrities, motherhood and “news”. Freedman also blogs on a website called Essential Baby, about pregnancy and parenting.

Freedman is married and has two children and one on the way.

Why I lover her blog

I must admit until I started this course I had very little knowledge about blogging or a desire to discover more about it. But I must say that through my new sense of blogging appreciation I was very pleased to discover that Freedman has her own blog. Unfortunately we have security restrictions at my work so I have to wait until the weekend before I can get my fix of mamamia.

I love Freedman’s style of writing. She is witty, charismatic, tongue in cheek and has a great sense of humour. What I like most though is that she doesn’t hide the fact that she likes gossip and clothes and that she has made a career out of it. I know many women who often tell me that she writes about “crap” but I have often seen those women have a good chuckle while reading some of her columns and stories.

The Blog

Firstly I love the look of blog. I love the “ripped paper” look at the top of the page and the stars. I think this is really cute. I also love the fading purple colour tones. This is still “girly” but not as girly as pink. I think this was a conscious colour decision for the “girly but not too girly” look because I have the same colour scheme on my blog.

The categories are cleverly designed with each individual letter looking like it was cut out of a magazine and stuck onto the page. This is clever in that it reflects on her past career paths.

I really like the way her name is written. It gives the impression of her being a “star” as her name is in the stars and the also her “name in lights” which again give that “star quality” status.

I like the fact that there is a picture of her. It gives the reader an image of the woman behind all the categories and stories.

There is also a link to another blog she writes for “Baby Essentials”, this allows the reader to delve into greater detail in one aspect of her life which she clearly thinks other women need to know more about. As well as a clear employment opportunity I think that this shows that Freedman feels that pregnancy is a topic which needs to be discussed among women in a more open and public forum, such as the web and that the information regarding parentiong and preganncy should come from real working women who deal with the issues which arise through parenting and pegnancy and not just “specialist advice” which many women cannot relate to

Further the blog also has links to several other website which Freedman enjoy to read.  For example, fashion magazines/websites, parenting and pregnancy websites and celebrity and gossip sites. Interestingly her blog also has numerous links to self-help websites. This give the reader an opportunity to further delve into the interests of Freedman and the types of writing and websites she enjoys to view.

Further, the self help links show that Freedman has concern over issues which people in society face and by endorsing a means of assistance Freedman is effectively acknowledging the need for greater access to and for people when facing difficult issues in their lives.

Her blog also has access to previous articles she has written and also provides a search category where you can search topics which Freedman writes about and have quick access to relating articles.

The website also has an “about” section and a “career” section. Interesting the about section is just numbered point facts about herself to date and her career section is a transcription of a interview she did for Career Chick magazine. I think this is an interesting way for her to show her career and employment achievements as opposed to simply giving a run down of where she as worked and how successfully or otherwise each of those ventures was.

You are able to contact Freedman through her website and also the publications for which she worked for. Interestingly, this shows that she still has a very close relationship and affiliation with her previous places of employment and clearly feels that her blog is a place to promote them a great publications and employment environments.

My favourite section of the blog is by far the question and answer category. Here Freedman’s tongue in cheek attitude is clear, especially with a question such as “Do you think magazines cause eating disorders” or “Q: Should I send you unsolicited advice or negative comments? A: No”. This section gives a clear example of Freedman’s writing style and also her personal nature.

Further, Freedman’s book is also displayed on the blog and also provides commentary about “what others have said about the book” and a link as to where the book can be bought online.

Notably her blog also has a comments section. Lets face it, a comments section on a site like this can be either a blessing in that the people, namely women who read the blog will write lovely things and support your views and comments and post comments or it could be a disaster with disgruntled women having a whinge about the “superficial” topics Freedman writes about. Happily I must say all the comments I have read to date have been positive.

I have a friend who is totally negative - all the time. She hasn’t had a boyfriend in many years and has always been slightly overweight. I then have these other two friends who are pregnant and basking in their pregnancy glory and baby fat. So, whenever topic comes up about babies the negative friend always goes on about how she can never imagine being pregnant and how she doesn’t even know what its like to be in a relationship anymore blah blah.

Now, this is all well and good and I know we all feel like shit every now and then and we vent about things that make us angry or depressed but this girl is just negative all the time.

What annoys me the most is the fact that no one has the nerve to tell her that she is being a negative cow and that her attitude is dampening all the rest of our spirits. It’s come to the point that we avoid talking about our relationships or the pregnancy joy of our two friends because we don’t want to upset her and listen to her whinge about her life (great friend arnet we?).

Anyway, she has not gone on a super diet and lost heaps of weight and looks absolutely great. But she is still negative.

The worst thing about her negativity is the fact that she brings others down in the process. When she is having a particularly bad day she is on the war path and we all duck for cover. She can be mean and ruthless and no one is brave enough to even say hello let alone complain or comment on their current life situation.

One day she really offended me and I didn’t speak to her for quite a while and conversation was minimal. Once she finally got the message and decided to deal with me again she acted like her attitude was my fault and I wasn’t being the tolerant friend I should be.

I justify her in my own mind by telling myself that she is just unhappy about things I can’t help her with. What annoys me the most though is the fact that I don’t have the balls to tell her that her attitude is wearing me down.

She is lonely and I totally understand that so I took her shopping for a hot outfit, a great bra and heels and told her to go out and vent that frustration on some sexy man that she MUST meet this weekend at a do she is going to.

I’m hoping she and I will get lucky and happiness will once again reign!

In a momentary lapse of rational thinking I got married and I now need to vent about all the things that I hate about living with a man.

1. What a SLOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My husband is a slob (just in case you didn’t just get the message).

I have renamed him the snail because wherever he goes there is a trail left behind him. For example, he does a circle around our bed when he gets changed. He starts from one end where he takes off his shirt, he then takes a few steps and the pants come off and the a few more and the socks and then just a few more and the underwear. He then goes to the bathroom where he has a shower and leaves his towel, wet and on the floor.

He then returns to the bedroom where he goes into his wardrobe and finds a t-shirt which is neatly folded (compliments of me) under lets say 3-5 other shirts. Now, instead of being normal and lifting up the shirts on top of the shirt he wants to wear, my hubby just pulls this shirt out making the others fall to the floor in a crumbled mess. He then has the nerve to come back a few days latter with a crumpled shirt and says to me “Honey please iron”.

2. Slob continued…

When he takes a jacket  that is hanging from his wardrobe he then also knocks down every other hanging item also. Clearly losing his mind he once again comes to be with an ironing request.

3. How many plates, cups, knives, forks do you need?

My husband has a snack (in a packet) and uses a bowl. Now you might be thinking please explain, why in the world would you need to put something in a packet in a bowl but when my husband eats there a crumbs all over the place (yes, even with a packet and a bowl) and I end up having to follow him around with dust pan to ensure my home doesn’t get attacked by mice.

He then has a glass of water in one glass. Fifteen minutes later he has another drink and once again takes out another glass, when he could have just washed out the one he used previously.

Aside from the fact that my dishwasher is constantly on, he doesn’t even have the common courtesy of putting his dishes in the sink or dishwasher, this has to be the most annoying thing out of this entire situation.

4. Pick up your plate

Even though he doesn’t do this anymore, I will still have a vent about it.  He used to eat at the dining table and then leave his plate there. After I have lost the plot a few times he has now learnt to take the plate to the sink and amazingly also tells others to do the same.

5. The couch is not a bed

Every day after he comes home from work my husband lays on the couch in his dirty construction worker clothing. He flicks through the channels on TV and inevitably falls asleep. This drives me crazy because, he lays there and hasn’t had a shower and all I can think of when I see him there is how much dust there is on my couch that I will now have to wipe.

I keep telling him if he wants to sleep on the couch he should have a shower and go to bed. I have even compromised and told him to have a shower and he can lay on the couch then, but this is a habit I am yet to kick for him.

I would like to note that after much venting I have spoken to other men and they have all reassured me that their significant others have re-trained/re- programed (whatever) them and now they no longer have these major male flaws.

Renovating - Pros and Cons

PRO:

1. Design

My new home is a three bedroom place with all the usual space: a bathroom, laundry, kitchen, dining and living areas and I love it. However, when I first saw the place from the inside I was disgusted and just kept telling myself “it has potential”. Well, sure enough my newly renovated home is absolutely beautiful. I knocked down walls, destroyed the Roman empire style arches and closed up a window. This was so much fun as it allowed me to be creative and vent so much frustration on the original builder who made this cute little place look like shit!

2. Painting

Even though my arms hurt for a week afterwards and my neck was permanently looking to the sky for a few days this was a lot of fun, especially when someone who was helping out got bored and would grab a massive roller and run it down someone else’s back or through their hair. I think I ended up spending a small fortunate on paint because more ended up on people than on the walls and ceiling.

3. Colour scheme

I got to pick neutral colours and then splash out where I felt like it. All my furniture is either beech veneer or dark wood and then I just throw in a bright painting to liven a room, or I throw textured pillows on the couch and suddenly my house looks like a rainbow. Well not really, but enough colour for me anyway.

4. Wardrobe space

This was the ultimate renovating adventure for me because I got to design my own WALK IN WARBROBE (AHHHHHHHH I LOVE HEARING THOSE WORDS AND KNOWING THEY BELONG TO ME). I was able to create a special space for my shoes, bags and jewellery. I even have a dresser with a long mirror in the wardrobe which is just amazing.

CONS

1. Builders

They keep telling me, ”pay cash I give you good price”. Well that’s a load of crap, so I tell them I will pay them cheque or credit so I can tax deduct it myself and then suddenly the price begins to drop astronomically.

2. Builders crack

If I see one more builders crack I will pull up the guys pants over his head!

3. Money

I was always think I will spend a bit more and have something a bit better and know it will last but then I spend a little bit extra everywhere and suddenly I have run out of money and moving in is pushed back another pay fortnight.

4. Time

You get really excited when you start renovating and you have everyone lined up ready to go and then one thing after another begins to stuff up and this pushes everyone else back and suddenly something you thought would take a few weeks has taken a few months.

I just moved into my new home about six weeks ago. Prior to this I was living with my parents in a house where all the cooking and cleaning was done by someone else and bills was something that I never had to worry about.

Now however I suddenly have water bills, phone bills, electricity, Foxtel, Internet and food bills and living on my own, without my parents has been a real shock to my financial system.

When I got married in Novemeber there was all these thing which I had to suddenly take responsibility of, like health insurance, car insurance and house insurance, things which I knew existed but were never of my concern. I had to “shop around” calling all possible providers getting the best deals with my new family.

I am now shocked to calculate that once I add up all the automatic deductions, plus the bills my pay seems to come into my account in a day and leave just as quickly. I occasionally get to enjoy my hard earned cash but after I spend it I am guilt ridden and then end up eating packet soup for a week to make up for the “splurge”.

I have also received a greater appreciation of all the responsibilities that come with running a household. I now realise why my other used to go off the rails when we would put a biscuit in our mouth and walk around the house while eating it “the crumbs” she would scream!!!!!

I really felt like my mum on the weekend when I had friends over who have small children. The little ones, as cute as they are, did leave their biscuits, ice cream and whatever else they were eating all over my floor, so when the mothers weren’t looking I would retrack the childs steps and pick up all the left over residue.

At one point my husband pulled me aside and said “why don’t you just get out the vacuum cleaner and hold it over the kids mouth while they eat and then make sure you clean them up when they are done”. Point taken I said, but that didn’t stop be from pulling out the broom a few times. Doesn’t he understand that this will mean crumbs carried on feet and shoes and suddenly the area of mess which could have been contained has now spread and means more cleaning for me?

I am hoping that this feeling of obsessive compulsive cleaning will subside, I guess it comes with the “new home” terrirotry and the need to keep it as lovely as the day you moved in. I am also hoping that the feeling of guilt of spending money will also pass, becasue this might actually kill me.

But, until all these emotions pass I guess I will have to deal with it and enjoy the new relationship that I am forming with my new best friends DYSON and MASTERCARD.

So dinner passed and we once again mounted the bus. By this stage the party had really begun. The hen was decked out in all her hens night attire include a hand made bright blue veil with sunflowers, a sash noting that she was “the bride to be” and a giant badge with a picture of a hen in a wedding dress. The rest of us were given sunflower necklaces and badges which said “Beware Hens Party”.

The bus then took us on a tour of the city. We drove over the Spit and Harbour Bridges, down Oxford Street, through Kings Cross, up and down George St and then stopped in the Botanical Gardens.

By this stage the alcohol was running through our bodies at lighting speeds and the constant motion had made us all dizzy so when we stopped in the Gardens we didn’t even realise.

Suddenly the music stopped and the bus drive announced over the microphone for us all to be seated. The music then started again and a man dressed in a construction workers outfit steeped onto the bus. There was a wild cheer from the ladies as he began to dance around coming closer and closer to the Hen. In true stripper style he danced out his routine and was left standing on this cold winter night on a bus with nothing but a g-string. Two things came to my mind:

1. This guys butt is smaller than mine…..how did it get that way?

2. His fake tan is flawless and where does he get it done?

The poor man had to then have a group photo with us all but I must say that one of the older ladies there did try her hardest to keep him warm.

After the performance we then went club hopping. We started off at Jacksons on George, then The Retro and then Shelbourne. We danced and sung the night away.

Our favourite place by far was the Retro not only because of all the “classics” played but because the people that go to Retro are almost as retro as the songs and provide enough entertainment to keep you in stitches sll night. The theme for the evening for “skool” so costumes were in full swing and when some of the “skool gals” got into a fight over a boy we were left rolling on the floor in laughter.

Once our feet couldn’t take it anymore we headed back to the hotel. We arrived back at about 6:15. We rested our heads for a small while but it took us all a while to fall asleep because the music was still ringing in our ears. Once we woke up we went to breakfast at Cockle Bay. Even though the sun was burning our eyes I must admit there is nothing more satisfying than a big greasy breakfast and a giant chocolate milkshake to rejuvenate you after a night of hard partying.

This weekend I had a very good friend’s hen’s night and it was absolutely wild. We partied hard, drank and danced all night and paid for it the next day.

For some the day started early. On Saturday at 2pm the girls met at the hotel and the drinking began.

Shots, bottles and big glasses were all on the agenda. The drinking started in the car on the way to the hotel and by the time all the ladies had arrived some were feeling a little worse for wear.

Then the preparations began. Slowly the girls managed to get themselves into the showers, some stumbling on their way there. It was hilarious. One of the ladies got into the shower and when she emerged she realised that she had forgotten to shave one of her legs. As she sat on the floor of the bathroom to regroup and continue the shave the girls sprayed shaving cream all over her head and back into the shower she went.

I arrived at around 6pm. By this stage the girls were looking lovely, making a great deal of noise and singing drinking songs/rhymes  (which I never knew existed) and playing drinking games. As with most nights out with the girls, the peer pressure got too much and before I knew it I had caught up to a small portion of the drinking they had done prior and I was feeling “happy” to say the least.

At 8pm we got picked up by the “Party Bus”. This bus was amazing, equipped with a jute box, a dance floor and a stripper’s pole for “spinning around”. Well, the music began to blast, the disco lights started to flash and we began to party. For those who have never experience it, I must note that dancing on a bus, intoxicated in high heels is very difficult and I must admit the trips and spills we had in this state added to half the enjoyment of the night.

Our first stop was down Parramatta road and into Norton Street. Here people stopped and stared at us, a group of lovely polite young gentlemen also flashed us their backsides. I think our shrieking at this stage blasted by ear-drums and I still won’t even consider putting my earphones into my ears.

We then went for a dinner to a lovely Italian restaurant. The look of horror on the table of middle aged couples having dinner was priceless. We were noisy, crude and rude and our dinner guests were not at all impressed. At one point a woman told me how disgraceful it was that young women behaved in such a way. I made a point of telling her that this was nothing and to wait until the stripper arrived and began to gyrate on our dinner plates. She looked disgusted, but by the time the stripper finally arrived I think she was having more fun than we were.

Well I am not going to spill all the beans of my wild weekend in one post, so stay tuned for part two of my wild weekend.

I recently got married and it seems that once you are married people always ask “when are you having children”.

Frankly I find this to be a very personal and on occasion can be a very sensitive topic. This is why I find that when the topic of children comes into a conversation with women, the dynamics of an event can become very interesting.

For example, a few weeks ago I was at  a Christening and it was interesting  to watch the interaction between new mothers and  mothers of older children, pregnant women with no children and those who are completely uninterested in children or the like.

For example, the woman who was christening her child was a firs time mother. She is naturally a very calm and relaxed person and appeared to be handling her child well; however, older mothers always felt the need to give her “advice” about everything.

“He looks like he has a bit of conjunctivitis,  squirt some of your breast milk on his eyes. it will do the trick” said one mother.  Another then noted “He seems cranky, have your burped him, let me try I’ve done this three times before and you’re a new mum you still don’t know how much strength to use”.

The new mother obliged and handed over her child. She told the breast milk squirting woman that she would give it a shot. She then turned to me and said “Can you believe this. This is what it’s like when all these mothers get together”.

Begin childless and clearly ignorant to motherhood politics I turned to her and said why don’t  just tell them to mind their own business. This she informed me would send them over the edge with a typical response being “were just trying to help, we know what it’s like being a new mother and all the advice you can get helps”. I got the message and nodded understandingly.

The poor child, oblivious to all the commotion around him was passed from one woman to another. His grandmother’s took turns changing and feeding him and once he was quite he was passed around like a hot potato from one loving mothers embrace to another.

I noticed that while the child was being passed around one of the women offered the child to her daughter in law, exclaiming “I can’t wait to become a grandmother!” In disgust the daughter in law replied “Look, you want a grandchild you can carry it around for nine months, deal with the sleepless nights, vomit, crying, stinky nappies and dirty clothes, and then when the child is capable of taking care of itself give it back”. The mother in law stood by shocked and for a moment was silent. She then turned to her daughter in law and began the long winded and well rehearsed “motherhood is a blessing speech”, to which I was left listening to when the daughter in law got up and walked away.

During this speech I noticed that my table was suddenly full of people. I looked around and realised that suddenly all the pregnant women were sitting at my table hanging on every word of the “blessing of motherhood speech”.

Each mother to be was smiling for ear to ear, clearly oblivious to all tribulations that also come with motherhood. Notably the “experience mother also decided to leave them out. Once question time began I left.

The most interesting motherhood event would have had to have been that involving the older mothers.  Not surprisingly these women think they are the best mothers, with the most experience and knowledge about all things child related. The oldest new mother,  was a 46 year old woman who had a one year old, after marrying off two children 25 and 23 respectively . She was still married to the same man and one day decided that she wanted another child and sure enough her wish was granted.

The child was unsettled and was crying quite a bit when another older mother of four children aged between twenty seven and ten offered her assistance.  The biological mother agreed and handed over her child. The child was calmed and returned.

After a while the child again became agitated at which point the previous assisting mother exclaimed “Here give her to a real mother”. Well, the child’s “real mother” then responded with a catty comment about how “the child already has a real mother and is quite happy with her” the entire table of women, young and old, mothers and childless became quite and quickly the topic changed to shoes and suddenly I felt right at home.

Check out Sacha Molitorisz’s blog for more trials and tribulations of parenthood.