To conform or not to conform....



The word conformity has a bad connotation.

I think it harks back to the 60's when people were encouraged to rebel against righty politics, and Pink Floyd gave conformity a pretty bad wrap in The Wall when they likened going to school to brainwashing.

It became almost the same thing as servant. Or mindless minion.

But I'm not so sure.

The other day I had a fascinating conversation with a woman I admire greatly. I think its fair to describe her as a free-thinking liberal-minded lefty.

She takes no nonsense and is generally pretty rad.

I like to think I could be a bit like her when I grow up.

So the other day we fell into a conversation about school uniforms.
She had home schooled her kids through primary and then they went to a conventional public high school.

Turns out that she decided that her kids culture was not to wear school uniforms and so she sent them to school in home made knits with a note saying as much.

Suddenly, I felt very.... straighty 180.

I sort of...... like school uniforms.
And I sort of...... dislike unnecessary disharmony.
I wasn't there at the time so I can only assume that the kids were on board with this act of rebellion and so no harm was done to anyone.

So, there I am questioning if I am doing my kids harm by dressing them in their correct school uniform each morning all neat and tidy and telling they look very smart.

Oh. My. God!!
I've been brainwashed!!
We're working for the system!!
I'm squashing their creativity!!!
BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I tried these ideas on.
But they didn't fit.

Call me crazy but I kind of think that kids need to learn how to conform.

We live in a conformist society.
We are individualistic in Australia and encouraged to think for ourselves but that's not the opposite to conforming is it?
I feel like we do both.

Don't we all conform when we drive on the left hand side of the road?
When we pay for groceries instead of just taking them?
When we go through security to board planes?
When we vote?
Pay taxes?
Wear clothes?

I like my kids to understand when and where stuff is appropriate.
Miss 8 spent the first few years of her life dressed in a swimsuit, gumboots, sunnies and a wooly hat.
No rules were broken, nobody got hurt and she felt terrific.

But now she's at a school that has a uniform, she wears that.
I don't know if she feels terrific per say but it isn't crushing her spirit either.
I kind of want them to learn what something IS so they can then decide what it isn't.
Conforming at this age is just an education.

I'd be doing my kids an injustice to say that the clothes they wear are shaping their minds and spirits.
Or that wearing a uniform is curbing their creativity.

What they are learning is how the world works.
I encourage them to think critically when issues are debatable (well it is my job to guide and teach them at this age) but I also want them to be respectful.
I put it out there, that at this young age, it is appropriate that they learn how to conform.

Thinking conformists....

Pushing boundaries and thinking outside the square are concepts to be absolutely encouraged in this wonderful free life we live. But not when you're five.

If listening when someone else is speaking, following rules and using manners is conforming, then sign me up.
And my kids.

The subjectivity of creativity

A guest post by the fabulous Miss Fox.....

 

I’ve been watching ABC-TV’s Life at 9 series, the latest instalment in a project
that has been documenting a group of Australian children since birth. Since
they are about the same vintage as my No 1 son, it has the added fascination of
comparison with my brood.

And it’s very Scientific, as it has guest spots by Researchers from the
Longitudinal Study of Australian Children, as well as a LifeLab where the
Children do Interesting Things for the Researchers to look at.
It’s an engaging program with some real personality kids in it, and I can’t do it
justice here. But it has me thinking...

A recent episode was about Creativity.
I asked my husband: “Do you think the kids are creative?”
He looked at me with that endearing quizzical look they get when not sure what
answer to provide. “Yes?”
“Maybe we need to provide more opportunities for them to be creative...”
“As long as it’s not fiddling with the remote or my phone settings, they can be as
creative as they like.”
Which wasn’t really on point and showed a distinct lack of creativity. I started to
fear for the children....

Like most other kids, they draw, play music, cook, dance and make up games
more complex than Minecraft. They build blanket cubbies, set up ‘shops’ and
execute gymnastic moves on the trampoline.
This is what it used to be meant to
be creative.
We’d say they had good imaginations.

According to this show, that’s being artistic, imaginative, but not necessarily
creative... the Researchers said that being creative is about being able to solve
problems and come up with new ideas – a different way of doing things. It’s
a thinking skill. It was explained that the adults of the future need to be able
to think flexibly and work with less structure and boundaries than we have
been accustomed to. I think that was why they had them in the LifeLab making
skyscrapers out of marshmallows and wooden sticks...(????)

Kids today, the program explained, have possibly less opportunities to develop
the ability to think creatively, as so much of their time is scheduled in activities
where they are told what to do and how to do it. This includes what I thought
were creative activities of the type kids do after school and Saturdays.
They also have decisions made for them by ever vigilant parents, so they never
have to come up with a solution to problems.

Now, you don’t need to convince me of yet another benefit of down time, and free
play time for kids.

But is this another box I need to tick to ensure my kids become well-rounded?
How many problems can a kid in a loving home have that need solving??? Unless
they are going to figure out how to pay this winter’s electricity bill or clean the
gutters, I can’t think of many problems we can throw their way either...all in the
name of creativity development.

I would definitely agree that learning how to solve problems through new ways
of doing things is a life skill we all need.
Looking at things from a different angle, and having a positive, can-do approach
to problems, is something I definitely want my kids to develop.
Well, I refuse to feel guilty that my kids don’t have enough opportunity to think
of new solutions to problems.

So I did some assessment, and I’m happy to report that my kids are well on their
way to being Creative:

When I find uneaten lunchbox sandwiches stuffed in a bedroom drawer, I will
see it as a new and novel solution to the awkward problem of having to fess up
that they didn’t eat their lunch.

When I spy one son offering to pay the other one a dollar to take out the
compost, I will see it as a clever solution to the problem of lack of time and
inclination to do household chores.

When I hear my daughter tell her father in her best “Daddy loves me” voice that
yes, of course Mum said she could watch TV, I will see it as a brilliant solution to
the difficult problem of being caught indulging in illegal screen time.

Hell, my kids are creative! What was I worried about?!

Problem solved.

Food as therapy

I know they say food is the most widely abused drug, but I figure theyre talking about hungry jacks right?

This rainy weather plus uni break plus really tired equals bored and feeling lowly.

So today I thought NO!
Do something that will lift your spirits girl....

Cook! I thought.
I hate cooking. The kind that requires something to be on the plate at 6pm every night. and NOURISH, DAMN IT, NOURISH!!!!!!

It drains the life out of me.

So heres what I did.
I decamped to Besties for coffee.
With this:

My inspiration when I got none.

And I hit my hunt and gather place. Harris Farm

I got inspired to cook Raspberry Mousse, Rustic Porcini Mushroom Soup, and Moroccan Chick Peas with Preserved Lemon.

Serious.

The mousse.... I gotta say, it was expensive, it cost me about an hour and these two

Stiff white peaks WTF!!!??? Theres no such thing people, its a myth......
Ask my two hand beaters.... but they wont answer... they're dead.
Like, smoke and zzz zzz zzz ZAP.

But the kids ate them mousse.
So..... that's what counts isn't it?

Yes that is a finger print.... not my finger.

So Stephanie Alexandra has this amazing recipe for chick peas. I hate cutting onions. But if Stephanie Alexandra says cut four large onions, you cut them.
But T,D&H taught me this trick
Swimming goggles.
Don't tell him, but it works a treat.
Stylin' huh?

My kitchen was my Happy place today.
I just cooked for the joy of it.
No pressure, not time constraints, nobody around.

So grey skies or not, I have a plan for blue days when they appear.

and PS



Cheers friends!
xxxx

A year of living anxiously... well five years actually.

So, I have been wanting to write this blog for a while.

But I have felt like it might be a bit personal, a bit exposing.

Not for you, for me.

But I have been encouraged to just do it.
So, here goes.

When I had my son, like most mother's of new-borns, I didn't get much sleep. He didn't like to be put down.
Ever.
He went absolutely bananas whenever I put him on the bed where he could still see me, just to get changed.

Showering was a task I learned to get done in 25 seconds to the soundtrack of blood curdling screaming and I also perfected going to the toilet whilst holding my baby.

I co-slept with my babies just because it made breast feeding easier
But when it got to the 10 month mark with my boy and he couldn't sleep without being latched on to my boob, I was completely undone with exhaustion. I would lay awake in the most contorted positions keeping completely statue still so as not to rouse the angry beast who was using me as a human dummy.

Then someone told me about a secret that isn't widely known, called a sleep clinic.
So I went to the GP, told her I was going out of my mind and wanted a referral.
She had never heard of it.
I told her to look it up.
She googled it.
Nothing.
I shoved her aside and googled it for her.

Long story short, I got a 4 night booking for myself and the rest of the family.
They encourage everyone to get involved, its a bit like family re-hab.
It was awesome.

The incredible nurses helped me to teach my little man how to sleep on his own in his cot without being latched on to me.

And on night three, I SLEPT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For the first time in almost a year.
Like a dead lady.

Whilst I was there, I got to see a psychologist.
They do this test for you, I guess there's a petty high percentage of new Mum's with anxiety and post natal depression.
She asked me "are you anxious?"
I said, No.
I didn't pace around biting my nails and smoking cigarettes.
So I said, No.

I did the test, and she said "You're in the most upper range of Anxiety"
I said "You what now?"

She explained to me exactly what anxiety was.
I cried.

Absolute Joy.
I have rarely felt such incredible, sweet relief in my life.
I felt like hugging everyone and telling them my good news.

Seriously, the state I was in had a name.
And from that moment I felt better.

So, over the last few years my family and I, like all family's, have had a bunch of up's and down's.
Rob and I moved with two very young children from London to country NSW.
It took almost a year for Rob to find a job.
My mum got horribly sick from cancer and we moved to North Queensland be near her and look after her with my sister.
Mum died.
We moved back to country NSW.
We bought a house.
I got cancer.
I had surgery.
I had chemo.

Its fair to say that my anxiety was a constant companion over these past 5 years.
I have been on and off anxiety medication. I am not ashamed to say so, it helped me a hell of a lot.

We all have anxiety.
Its a psychological response that helps us to behave appropriately. Not walk into traffic, supervise kids in the pool, not swim with sharks, perform well in exams that kind of thing.

But it can get out of hand and swallow you up.
Or rather, choke you up.
I can only say how it feels for me.
Its an overwhelming feeling of everything I haven't done, need to do, am not doing right or am utterly neglecting or failing at.
There aren't enough hours in the day to get it all done but I'm powerless to know where to start.
I get snappy and snakey and I drop my bundle when its safe to do so.
My mind goes at a million miles an hour and all of this is buried inside.

The best thing is, over the years I have learned to identify it, label it and cope with it.
"I'm sorry, I'm feeling anxious" is a sentence I use a lot.
There is always a reason for it.
Exams, scans, over-commitment.
I don't catastrophize or think anything wildly unrealistic is going to happen, I just feel like I am flying downhill with the hand-break off.

To try to curb it, I have to commit to less stuff, learn to say no, lighten the schedule, get out in the fresh air, breathe deeply and look at my family for strength. One thing at a time.
Slow. Down.
But it's not always as easy as it sounds.

Any hoo, I'm an over sharer from way back. I tend to think that sharing your unseen battles sometimes might just normalize it for someone else. That's why I talk freely about my experience with cancer. Because if it makes one other person feel less alone, its valuable. Ditto anxiety.
Its nothing to be ashamed of. It just is.

Hard to believe

So I just thought I'd throw together a concise compendium of things that have had me baffled this week.

 

I found myself shaking my head and wondering what it's all about a few times.......

So here they are, items that are (almost) beyond words.

 

 

Number one: the plug-in electric egg cooker.





Sweet Jesus, what is the world coming to when you need to buy a gadget to cook a frigging egg?

Two words: Land .Fill.

 

 

 

Number two: This fashion designer's incredibly bad idea to base his glamorous photo shoot on the horrific gang rape of a young woman on a bus in India.

Wow, really, really, really poor judgement, mate.

 

 

Number three: Frog pops

These are icy poles made of vegetables.

I have no words, except, this has gone too far....

And also, how dumb are your kids that they're going to lick cooked, mushed and frozen broccoli and not notice?

 



 

 

Number four: A reassuring KIDS book about how awesome and normal it is to "open carry" your guns.

This time I really have no words, just this:

WTAF???

 

Number five:

You're welcome :-)

 



I've discovered the secret to what makes me a great Mum.

It's the holy grail I've been chasing.
It might even be the holy grail you've been chasing.

Call me psychic, but I would place bets that you're not sitting there thinking about what an awesome mum you are. You're wondering what you could do better. You're wondering how your family could function better. Be more like you'd imagined. Happier. More satisfied.....

There's a multi million dollar "You're a shit Mum and here's what you need to BUY to fix it" industry hinging on all the paranoia and anxiety built into our DNA from the moment you pee on that little white stick.

(This industry is closely related to the same industry that keeps you constantly wondering why you're not thin enough, your bum's not perky enough and your teeth aren't white enough, by the way.....)

But I digress.

Where was I?
Oh yes the Holy Grail......

So, its been a journey..... god I hate that word.
It's been a series of events over a period of time.

Mostly this enigma has been evolving without my noticing.
Like all the best enigmas I guess.
But recently I felt moments of clarity when I was getting it right.
And I started to draw correlations about what was lighting this little fire I could feel warming my Mummy heart.

Know what I realized is helping me be a good Mum?
Happier.
More focussed.
More patient.
More balanced.
More confident.
Less anxious.
Less self deprecating.

The answer is:
All the things I do that AREN'T about being a Mum.

Seriously.
All the stuff I do that are about me being Christine, make me a much better Mummy.

We've all heard the old advice "make time for yourself" but seriously, Its the only way.

I owe it to my kids to be selfish.

I am a person with interests and identities beyond lunch box lady, laundry manager and catering supervisor.

I am a student
I am politically motivated.
I am a netballer.
I am a netball coach.
I am a friend.
I am a voracious coffee consumer.
I am a yoga and Pilates enthusiast.
I am a flautist.
I am a book group member.
I am a daughter and a sister and a wife.

And all of those things are the icing on the Mummy cake that is Me.

The two are not separate. I am nothing if I'm not Mum to Miss 8 and Mr 4.
But for every other string to my bow, I am a nicer Mum.

And I feel like I'm setting a good example to my kids that I am more than their unpaid, albeit ever-loving staff member. I want them to see what else I can do.... hell I'm not inventing new methods of space travel or solving world hunger, but feeling like a Mummy who is sometimes peaceful and sometimes getting it right feels like just as much of a challenge some days.

We are not shit at this Mummy business, we just get coerced into believing that we're not quite adequate.

I'm calling B.S.

We are adequate. We are so much more than nappy changers. We are people, and people need passions and interests and connectedness.
Its a given that we're passionate about our kids.
But I wont feel bad about wanting to be more.
In fact I feel kind of awesome about it.