My hubby can survive without me!

Yep. He can.

I doubted it. I doubted him.

I recently came back from a 9 day trip to Africa. On my own. Hubby and the two kids stayed at home. And while I jokingly asked our church family to pray for them and to pray that they would still be alive when I came back, deep down, I was not joking.

Would he feed them enough? Would he get them to bed not too late? Would he get them to school on time? Would he remember to give Mr. 3 a mid morning snack? Would he remember swimming, and soccer?

Would they be okay without me?

How incredibly judgemental and self-centred.

Sure, I am the glue and the tower of strength and organization in this family (no exaggeration!), but my husband is an amazing and capable man. Sure, when I'm around he has a tendency to lean on me and to depend on my capabilities a little too much. But, he is a very capable man.

So, when I left for the airport, I decided to leave behind all my anxieties and truly believe that they would be okay. What other choice did I have anyway? Worrying was only going to spoil my trip. And here was my chance to truly believe in my husband and to trust him entirely.

I believe that us Mums tend not to give our husbands and partners enough responsibilities and credibility. How demeaning is that! Men thrive on trust and when we're proud of them and their accomplishments. And yet, we deprive them of so much because we want to be "in control" - whatever that means. Or because we think we can do it better, or faster. Well, I do that anyway. I am so wrong!

I was so wrong.

When I came back, the kids were alive! My hubby was alive, albeit tired and relieved to have me home. The kids had been clothed, fed and at school mostly on time (and let's be real, they're often late with me!). Swimming was only forgotten once, the house was vaccumed and two loads of washing were done.

A photo hubby sent me while I was away

But most importantly, the kids were happy. And my hubby was proud.

The thing that astonished me the most however, was that my hubby had been very proactive about educational issues such as hitting. His new rule, which I am keeping to as much as I can, is "You hit your sister/brother, you go on the thinking step for 2 minutes". Straight away. No discussions. No second chances. That takes a lot of energy. And determination.

Unfortunately, he did not manage to get Mr. 3 to do poos on the toilet. Oh well. I'll just keep working on that one.

The thing is, I don't believe enough in my husband on the home front. And maybe that's why he isn't very engaged. I don't give him room to do things his way.

That is going to change. I know he can do it, and do it well. So I'm trying to give him space, and he's trying not to fall back into the habit of relying on me so much. He has seen what it takes to manage the home front and is much more appreciative of what I do. And I love it when he steps in and manages the kids' (mis)behaviour.

My husband is my hero and today I honour him for everything he does and has done for our family. He is one amazing man, husband and father. I am so blessed to be his wife.

With the love of my life

_________________________________________________________________________

If you liked this post, why not subscribe to my posts on the right. That way you won't miss any!

You can also follow me on Facebook - just click on the link on the right.

Bloggers live for comments. I love interacting with my readers and knowing what they think or what they are going through. Don't be shy - leave me a note!

Going back to my roots

I'm a TCK (Third Culture Kid). This means that I "have spent a significant part of my developmental years outside my parents' culture". 

My Dad is Swiss. My Mum is English. I grew up in the Ivory Coast from birth to age 13.

In two days, I am going back to my birth country.

In two days, I am going back to one of the countries that has made me who I am today.

In two days, I am going back to the country I felt uprooted from.

In two days, I am going to smell humidity, heat, dust, sweat, rubbish.

In two days, I am going to taste sweet juicy mangoes, tender red papayas, deep-fried plantain bananas and fire roasted peanuts.

In two days, I am going to hear mosquitoes buzzing, toads croaking, locusts clacking and buzzing.

In two days, I am going to hug my Mum and Dad, my brother, my sister and my new brother in law.

In two days, I am going to say goodbye to my husband and two children for 9 days.

In two days, I am going back to Africa.

Myself as a child in the Ivory Coast

I've never felt whole since leaving the Ivory Coast. I spent 13 years in Switzerland after we left. Now I've spent 10 years in New Zealand. Nowhere is home. Home is where my heart is, where my family is. But even that doesn't mean much as we're all spread around. 

Nowhere do I really feel at home.

I wonder what I'll feel when the air plane doors open and I can step down onto the tarmac. Will I feel at home again, after all these years? Or will this be yet another "almost home, but not quite" moment? I've buried so many memories since I had to say goodbye that I'm almost scared to go back. And yet I can't wait. I know it's going to be one of the trips of my life.

It is time to go back and then to face the future with my past firmly in hand.

Are you a TCK? Do you feel at home anywhere?

Today I am thankful!

I had a good day today. We all had a good day today.

I don't know why or how, but the planets and the stars aligned for me today.

I was relaxed. I was cool. Mr 3 played nicely by himself several times. We cruised. He almost didn't whine. He almost didn't cry. He said please and thank you. He got into his car seat when asked. 

At 3 o'clock, the dreaded school pick up time and "what am I going to do with them for 2 hours?" time, I was calm! I couldn't believe it.

Nothing beats sunshine and Vitamin D

The sun was shining so we went to the park and had ice cream. We hung out for one hour and I didn't get bored (I normally find playgrounds the most boring place on earth, please tell me I'm not the only one???). My kids' smiles and excited shouts were like warm waves of love washing over me.

Back home, they played nicely (?!) and my son helped me chop the vegetables for the fish pie.

All day, I just kept asking myself: why? how? I have no idea. Maybe it's the PND lifting a little more. Maybe it's the fact that I've been allergy free for almost a week thanks to the new meds, maybe it was the sunshine. Maybe it was all three. Maybe it was none of them. 

Today was a good day. It was a moment in eternity. A ray of sunshine in a sky which has been tainted by fogginess and greyness. A drop in an ocean of emotions, feelings, and anxieties.

Today, I am thankful. I want to encourage you who are going through harder times, that there will be days like this one. They are worth waiting for, and when they come along, savour every little second of the day. Engrave each moment into your heart and mind. And smile!

Kia kaha! Be strong!

So what if I have PND?

I've had PND (Post Natal Depression) for 6 years now. 

After both kids. And that's okay. I can live with that, because I'm lucky enough to have access to treatment and supportive friends. I've never felt inadequate or guilty or ashamed.

Quite the opposite really. I don't mind talking about my experience. I always hope it will encourage another Mum or make her feel less alone.

But I was thrown on Thursday last week. I went to see an allergy specialist for my never ending runny nose and eyes. A German doctor. He was loud. He sounded German. He did his job. He asked about my medical history and what medication I was on. I told him I took citalopram because I suffer from PND. When told my youngest was now 3 he raised his eyebrows very high and said:

"Is that still PND after 3 years?". I just stared at him, gob-smacked.

Then he asked a few questions about allergy medications I've tried over the years. After a few minutes he stopped and said:

"I can't believe how many people take anti-depressants in New Zealand. Doctors just give it out to everyone. Don't you think you could stop now?" Wow. Just wow. I spluttered. I stumbled on my words. And then I said:

"I ended up at the CATT (Crisis Assessment and Treatment Team) centre in Porirua when my baby was 4 weeks old. I wanted to kill myself. I..." He interrupted me and said, "Oh, you were suicidal. Please keep taking the pills then!".

We then proceeded with what I was there for: allergies and prick testing. He was highly efficient in that regard and I'm already doing much better on the new treatment. Thank you German Doctor.

I feel so lucky that I'm in a place now where I can hear such statements and not take them too seriously. He did make me doubt for a few seconds...

"Could I stop my anti-depressants now?", "Do I really need them?"

Was the German Doctor right?

But then sense took over. I mean, come on. It's ok to take anti-depressants if you're suicidal but not otherwise? Just come off the pills, you don't need them anyway? Imagine if he said that to a woman who was feeling very unwell mentally, or felt guilty, or lost, or angry about her PND? I left that office worried that a highly qualified doctor, who gets paid $375 per 45 minute consultation, feels he has the right to give a woman he doesn't know advice about her PND and her treatment. 

Would he have told my friend with diabetes to stop her injections? 
Would he have told my other friend with severe asthma to stop using her inhaler? 
Did he tell me to stop taking medication for my allergies?

There is obviously still a stigma attached to all forms of depression. Maybe more so in Europe than in New Zealand. My very talented Mum, who has suffered from depression her entire adult life and has come up against a lot of judgement and stereotypes, wrote a great little book called "Thank God for Anti-Depressants". I agree with her 100%. Thank God for all medication that saves life, be it diabetes, cholesterol, depression, asthma, infections, etc.

So what if I have PND? So what if I was suicidal? It's okay. It's called life. PND is still a part of my life. Mostly in the form of anxieties these days. But it's still there. I'm better and better as the years go by though and I find that exciting.

So what if you have PND or depression? It's okay. Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise. You will get better, with or without the help of pills and/or other remedies. Life is a journey and it will throw things at you, but I've found that it's the way you accept and deal with life's lemons that transform you into a better and stronger person. I've gone through two very bare and lifeless winters, but spring is a pretty exciting place to be: summer is just around the corner!

I would never trade my journey for an easier one. It has made me who I am today. Your journey makes you who you are today.

You are amazingly and fearfully made. Kia Kaha! Be Strong!


I'd love to hear from you!


* If you are suffering from depression and you are worried about your safety or the safety of others, please don't suffer in silence. Contact your doctor, or call a friend. Ask for help.*

"Ahhhhhh-tchoo!" Confessions of an Allergic Mum

"Ahhhhhh-tchooo!" 
Really loud. Fills the room. 
"Atchoo, atchoo, atchoo!". Snuffle, snuffle, blows nose.

Seriously, hayfever is not funny. I've had it on and off forever. But the past 2 years have been terrible. No respite. As if having two young children wasn't tiring enough. 

"Ahhhhhh-tchoooooooo!". Pause. Blows nose. "Arghhhhh".

I'm seriously over it. Hay fever doesn't sound like a serious condition. It's not. But it can be debilitating at times. And oh so tiring.

This is what I've tried:

"Atchoo! Atchoo!"

So, nose drops now give me nose bleeds. 
Anti-histamine tablets don't work any more.
Steroids are miraculous but I can't have them more than 2 or 3 times a year. And they are baaaaaad for you.
Acupuncture helped my allergies a little, but especially strengthened my immune system and energy levels.
Vicks Vaporizer. Smells amazing, and I do seem to do better on the days when I've used it the previous night.
Avoiding milk as much as I can, but I can't give up cheese and yoghurt and butter and cream!!
Tempted to chop my head off, but.........

I mean, try cooking a meal. I have to stop every two minutes or so to sneeze or blow my nose. Then wash my hands. Then keep going. Then stop again, wash hands. Keep going. Drives me nuts!

"Ahhhhhh-tchooooooo!". 

Some days I get up and I feel like I can't do this one more day. The smiling, the being patient, the educating, the cooking, the cleaning, the policing, the entertaining, the looking good, the caring, the running around, the shopping, the teaching, the hugging, the kissing, the nose wiping, the being reasonable and rational, when all I really want to do is lock myself up in a room, curl up with a book and rest. Oh blissful rest!

But do you know what keeps me going? My faith - as always.

I'm seeing a super duper German allergy specialist this week. Dr Robert Winkler. I have very high expectations and hopes. Actually, he better have some answers and solutions for me otherwise I might actually strangle him (just kidding!).

So if you have any tips that have worked for you, please please please share the looooooove!

In the meantime, Kia Kaha! Be Strong!

Bloggers love comments. So do leave me a note. I will always take the time to answer. Thank you!

In this series, you can also read:

Confessions of an Anxious Mum

Confessions of a Sleep-Deprived Mum

Confessions of an Envious Mum

And if you'd like to follow me on Facebook, please click here. Thank you!

What the F(ish)?

I do my groceries once a week. Have done for years now (see why here). It saves money and time, and since I hate doing it, why do it more often?

So on Wednesday my little boy and I went off to our local supermarket for our weekly shop. He's 3. He likes helping. It's pretty sweet, but can also get kinda annoying, especially if I'm in a hurry. 

So I try not to be in a hurry.

He helps pick out the fruit and vegetables. He helps stick the labels on the plastic bags. He's beaming. I try to kiss him but he dodges my attempts with swift precision and practise.

He's not too interested in the meat. We go passed the fish. There's whole fish, there's fish heads, there's fish fillets and there's seafood. I keep going. We get to the dairy. He says "Stop Mamma". And points back to the fish. Okay, I get it. We go back. "Die?" he asks. "Yes, the fish are dead". He points to the fillets. "Ça non fish", he tells me in his cute Frenglish (aka mixture of French and English). He's adamant. So I explain that the fillets are the whole fish, but cut up and ready to eat. No answer.

We move on to the dairy. I put some butter and cheese in my trolley. "Stop Mamma", he says again. And points back to the fish. At this point, I physically feel the choice I have in front of me. I can either tell him that we need to move on now, that we've seen the fish, and "let's go and get some ham". Or, I can turn the trolley around and go back.

I go back. We do the same thing again. Say the same things again. Silence. We move on.

I add the Greek yoghurt and the milk to the trolley. "Stop Mamma". I look at him. At his gorgeous green-brown eyes looking at me so earnestly. I feel laughter bubbling up.

I go back. He points at the fish fillets. "Me mam-mam ça?" he asks. I smile and make sure I got his meaning, "Would you like Mummy to get you some fish for your lunch?". "Yep", he answers, very satisfied. So I get him a fillet of Tarakihi, our favourite New Zealand fish.

We finish our groceries and go home. For lunch, I pan-fry his fish fillet. He very quickly polishes it off.

He's happy. I'm happy.

I have to record these precious moments. They come and go so quickly. I fee like if I write them down then they won't be able to escape into the infinity of the past. Thanks for reading me today. Please tell me your stories!

Kia kaha! Be Strong!

Confessions of an Envious Mum

If you like school holidays, I envy you.

If you like school holidays, I don't understand you.

If you like school holidays, I'd gladly swap with you.

But alas, the latter isn't possible. So I better leave all my lack of understanding and wishful thinking aside, and get on with reality. Which is, I DON'T LIKE SCHOOL HOLIDAYS. There, I've said it. In fact, I don't like weekends either. Every Friday I hear my husband say, "yay! it's the weekend!". My heart just plummets and inside I think "shit, it's the weekend". I know it's very un-PC to be admitting this, but it's the truth. Weekends and school holidays, all our routines and little habits go out the window, and my introverted-people-loving-self (I know this may not make sense) is left with two kids under 6 who squabble squabble squabble, need me most of the time, and suck all energy out of me.

Please understand. I LOVE MY KIDS! I really do. I WANTED KIDS. I really did. But I just don't like being with them for more than a few hours at a time without a break. Yeah yeah, I know, one day I'll look back with nostalgia, bla bla bla. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll relish the "kids are older" stage a lot more than I can relish the "my kids are little and needy" stage. Who knows?

In the meantime, if you like the school holidays, I envy you. A lot. I don't know why, but despite having things organized, I found these winter holidays particularly hard. Into the first week, I asked some of you for some tips on a Mummy Facebook page and I got some good ideas:

Okay, so if you're like me, you look at the lists above and freak out thinking, "eeeeek, I can't do all that". Believe me, it's not about doing all that. It's about having ideas ready so that you can pick and choose depending on:

a) your mood

b) your kid(s)' mood(s)

c) everyone's energy levels

d) your budget.

Another great idea is to

So with all this information under my belt, I went about making lists and picking ideas from it. The kids still squabbled. They still needed attention. But at least I didn't feel like a blank page in desperate need of ideas. We did have some fun, and there were some quiet moments:

Fun in the snow (sides), and teaching my daughter how to make short crust pastry (centre)

Encouraging Daddy on the football field, drawing,
playing with Master J's new wooden parking, reading books

Also, for your own sanity, I strongly encourage you to take some time for yourself, even if it's just 15 minutes at a time! I had a few occasions to escape over the past two weeks, which were very precious moments and were made possible thanks to a few angels in my life:

A walk on my own in the sun, coffee and soup in a cafe, admiring nature

So there you have them, my lessons learned over the winter holidays 2015. Of course, if you are the kind of Mum who loves the school holidays, you probably don't need all these ideas. You come up with them naturally, or you don't need a plan. You just enjoy hanging out with your kids for two weeks. I am in awe of you. But I am also in awe of Mums like me, who find it hard, but who get through it.

Kia kaha! Be strong!

Bloggers love comments. So if you have any ideas to add to my lists, please do share them. The more the better for the next holidays! Thank you!

In this series, you can also read:

Confessions of an Anxious Mum

Confessions of a Sleep-Deprived Mum

And if you'd like to follow me on Facebook, please click here. Thank you!