Have yourself a stressful little Christmas?

Some may say Christmas in Jakarta
is commercialised... But at least they
have pretty decorations.

"I hate this time of year," says most of the people I meet.

I did most of my Christmas shopping before I left for Jakarta because I knew that this week would be crazy. I've already been to Fountain Gate twice and the atmosphere there is anything but joyful and merry. Christmas can bring out the best in people, but a lot of the time it brings out the worst.

And then it gets me thinking, why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we stress over Christmas when there's supposed to be a deeper meaning? Why do I stress that I haven't got 'enough' for someone, like it becomes a matching game of monetary value. What will we eat? What will I wear? Christmas cards. Christmas letters. Family traditions. I haven't got time. Stress, stress, stress.

Whether you believe that Jesus is the reason for the season or not, I'm sure you agree this isn't the way it's supposed to be, right?

Five years ago tomorrow (i remember dates) I would have come home from Kendari, a city with one Christmas tree. Seafood was cheap and it was idul adha the day we left. Then I came home and everything was ridiculously expensive, people were stressing over gifts, yet 48 hours before I was in such a different world where this spirit of stress didn't exist.

And so it's a bit similar now. Jakarta has more than one Christmas tree, but Christmas is very much still a religious celebration over anything (remembering that although Indonesia is a Muslim nation, it is a religious nation none the less). There's a hint of Christmas everywhere you go. Even in the hot weather the bajaj driver wears a Christmas hat. But the spirit of stress isn't there. The stresses in a third world country are so much deeper, and different, but the way they resiliently cope with their poverty never ceases to amaze me - something I wish Australians could learn from.

So as I max out my credit card, buying crap for the sake of having it, I then ask myself what this really is all about. I would love to lovingly create christmas presents, my pinterest is full of ideas. But having just spent the last month overseas has hindered this process. Plus, the thought in the back of my mind that is all about what you spend.

In amongst all the stress there has to be deeper meaning, right? I want to love Christmas. I want to hold my son tight as I sing 'silent night' on a picnic rug to the light of a candle at carols by candle light.

And, let's face it. Probably the highlight of the day on the 25th will be watching Luke open cool presents, then playing with the paper it was wrapped in. (Oh, and just for the record, Luke hate's Santa.. Well, the Myer Santa anyway...)

Maybe we can learn something about such simple joy. Let's keep it simple this Christmas, shall we?

Just the two of us...

Tonight Hendrik had to work late. I've never had a night where it's solely Luke and I. The only nights I have been away from Hendrik were when I went home for a week - but I at least had my Mum.

After tonight I have developed full respect for single parents - and the ones with partners who just don't help out.

After a relatively busy day, mothers group and a 3 hour round trip to the airport, I thought that tonight would be fine. Despite Hendrik only telling me yesterday that he would have to stay back late to tonight, I had planned a night of solitary luxury. Watching a movie, reading a book or blogging.

How very wrong I was.

After getting lost on the way home from the airport (long story) I came home and we watched some TV. My Mum had stewed up some apple for Luke yesterday so I tried to feed him that. He wasn't interested. I tried everything. I put him in front of the fish but he knew that Daddy wasn't home. And he usually would be.

After trying to force feed him with two different choices, adding cinnamon to the apple. He almost choked and I began to get stressed. But it didn't end there.

I multitasked by trying to feed him while getting his bath ready. I NEVER bath him. Because Hendrik works such long hours it's dedicated for father-son bonding time. I'm not too good at bathing him and he may or may not have eaten some soap.

The whole time through the eating and bathing I could slowly feel myself stressing out. I constantly told myself to just be calm, and nurturing toward my baby, and cuddle him when he cries. I had to let him know that even though his favourite man in the world couldn't be there, I would do my best. I've come miles from the early colic days where I would lose it after being with him all day.

Just stay calm. Everything will be alright. And it is.

I struggled to get him dressed and then he finally calmed down with the help of my boobs, and watched Big Brother while eating my red polka dot scarf.

I needed a shower so I put the high chair in front of the shower. I put him in there, dummy in mouth and a container in his hand. I took of my short and he played with that too.

The floor wasn't even in the shower so he began to rock the chair back and forth and thought it was hilarious. He managed to get it right up against the shower door and began banging it.

So he had gone from screaming and crying to laughing with delight.I quickly got changed and sat him in front of the television as we watched the rest of Big Brother (why is there nothing on TV on a Wednesday night!) as I scoffed the casserole my mum was so kid to put in the slow cooker before I drove her to the airport - thanks Mum!

He began to get cranky so I fed him and now he is asleep on my lap as I type this on my iPhone.

This is only day one. I'm reminded tonight how blessed I am to have a husband like Hendrik, and how much he does that I take for granted and don't realise until he takes a night off.

Now I just need to get through tomorrow night.

One year on

A sunset in Bali
- as beautiful as the island and the people that live there

But then something happens. Something that doesn't come within ten solar planets of what I expect. A group of lunatics rip bombs through a nightclub district in Bali on Saturday.

- Does My Head Look Big in This? by Randa Abdel-Fattah

How funny it is that this is in the chapter of the book I'm reading at the moment there's this - on the 10 year anniversary of the Bali Bombings.

For those of you who have been living under a rock, I love Indonesia. I love it so much that it was only natural that I married a man from Jakarta. 

While Indonesia is so close to my heart, I can't deny the fact that I'm Australian.

2002 was the first time I ever went to Indonesia. I remember Mum booked the flight insisting that I go because "back in my day I never had these kinds of opportunities."

Just prior to going, at 16 years of age, the first of my immediate family to ever go overseas, I was scared. Not of terrorism, but just genuinely afraid of going overseas, getting sick, or anything - I was naturally an anxious person. I was trying so hard for something to 'happen' before I went so that I wouldn't have to.

I got on the plane, and I went. I arrived in Bali and went straight on a plane to Yogyakarta. We had a few days in Bali on the way home. And I fell in love.

My Mum went to Bali a few months later. I was certain I would return to Indonesia some day.

Then a few months later this happened. I was on a church camp and people told me that there had been an earthquake in Bali, knowing that I loved Indonesia. It then turned out that someone must have heard wrong. It was a terrorist attack!

I remember arriving at school the following Monday, feeling a bit devastated, and my wonderful Indonesian teacher debriefing us and explaining what happened.

I didn't get to see the memorial service today, but just watching clips on it now is really moving. A muslim lady is seen holding a flower before putting it in the water, praying for her loved one. While the bombers were Muslim, innocent Muslims also died. I don't think this is a war against Islam or any religion. Or country.

John Howard is adorable. And good on Julia and Mr. Abbot for attending also. But where is Mr. Rudd? And more importantly... WHERE IS MR. YUDUYONO???

While people say that our relationship between Australia and Indonesia has gotten stronger, I think there's definitely still work to be done. Australia could be more welcoming to Indonesians coming to Australia, and the Indonesian president could definitely make more of an effort.

We need to NOT cut Indonesian out of our curriculum. So many schools where I offer my services say, "oh, we're phasing Indonesian out."

Whenever I have taught Indonesian some smart arse has to say "Indonesians are all terrorists." Yeah, because Indonesians didn't die as well? Because my husband and his family and all my Indonesian friends really have alternate motives to plant a bomb in my car. It's just not like that. And we can't wipe out this narrow minded point of view if we just abolish Indonesian from schools - especially since in the past there has genuinely been big successes by having it as part of the learning program. Ok, I'm raving.

Don't worry, Julia. It's the story of my life. When I go to Indonesia nobody makes the effort to meet with me, either.

Choking on an Apple of disappointment

The 8th photo I ever took on my iPhone 4

Almost two years ago I took up a job. I was teaching a grade 5/6 class in term 4. I had 23 students and they had had enough of school, and were simply not interested in having a new teacher. On top of the struggle for me to get them to relate to me, I had to write their end of year reports after only getting to know them for 6 weeks.

As a reward for my efforts, once I had finished my report, I went straight to our local shopping centre and signed up for an iPhone 4. I really liked this phone. I still do.

My husband was jealous of my flash new smart phone and wanted one too. He opted for a Samsung Galaxy S. Not S2, Not S3. Just S.

I always thought he was silly getting that phone. Actually I still do. Not only was iPhone cooler, but it obviously ran better too. I came home from work one day and he was proudly 'rooting' his phone. As English isn't his first language, I don't think he understood 100% my amusement when he said he was 'rooting' his phone. (for those who don't know, 'rooting' means 'jailbreaking' your phone - so the user has full control of the operating system)

I used to mock him as he obsessed over Android devices and how he claimed they were so much better than Apple. The two can't really be compared as one is open source and the other isn't.

I considered getting an iPad. What put me off was they were horribly expensive and I simply couldn't justify spending a great amount of money when I already had an iPhone and we had a baby on the way.

I did, however, have a fantastic idea. I could get an iPad. I could buy eBooks. Picture eBooks. Instead of having a caseload of books in my boot as I went from school-to-school teaching a different class every day I could store them all on my iPad. I'd be known as the awesome relief teacher who read books from an iPad. That and it would be a tax benefit. Win all around.

Then Steve Jobs passed away. Shortly after the iPad 3 was released and I felt disappointed. There wasn't much more to it apart from some resolution improvements. Compared to the iPad 2 it even overheats... and is thicker and heavier too.

Then the iPhone 4S came out. Apart from some spec improvement and the silly Siri addition, it didn't "wow" me.

I was also annoyed that I couldn't use flash on my Apple device. Some websites I want to view have flash, and I also watch online TV which requires Flash to operate.

My husband was so proud of my child bearing efforts that he wanted to reward me with an iPad as I spent a lot of hours up breast feeding. I told him that I was disappointed with the iPad and would rather an android device so that I could watch streaming TV when I was up in the middle of the night. For mothers day he bought me an Asus transformer. I really liked it but unfortunately it was a little bit dodgy from an eBay seller and was returned. We then saw that Aldi had a tablet for sale and purchased it, but that too was dodgy.

The Samsung Note fulfils my creative tendencies 

So I haven't had a lot of luck with devices. However, I still have my trusty iPhone 4. It still works, however I can't upgrade to the new iOS 6 because I need to free up some space.

I was semi-excited for the iPhone 5 release, but knew deep in my heart I was going to be disappointed. I was tossing up between getting a Samsung Note 2 as my next phone (but may just go for the first edition due to finances).

I woke up early on the morning that the iPhone was released to find that it was not all that it was cracked up to be, and upon having a play in the Telstra Shop, I can safely say, once my 4 dies, I will not buy another iPhone. Granted, iPhones are very user friendly and smooth, but I feel like I am limited with them and want something more.

So I am going to go with the Samsung Note when the time comes. It saves me buying a tablet and will be better on my eyes when I am up in the middle of the night feeding the bub.

Let your smile be a blessing.

Dear Luke,

This morning we went to the coffee shop. You know the one. We always go there. We were waiting for Kuku.

Poor thing, you hadn't slept since 6am. You were crying in your pram. I kept trying to push it back and forth to settle you but you kept crying. So I took you out and you sat on my lap.

You like coffee. You wanted to grab the cup. I think you first became addicted to it when I was pregnant with you. Oh Luke, I was very sick while you were in my tummy. I had a coffee before work every morning in an attempt to feel better. It would do nothing, but I would feel you moving around in my belly. You love coffee.  I believe you still love coffee through my breast milk. If I don't have coffee you get cranky! Lucky I only have one a day. Max.

You like standing up on my lap, working out your leg muscles. I thought I would try and play with you but you were so tired you began to cry. I tried to comfort you and then you screamed. I stood up and walked around with you. You like that. You like being up high on a shoulder. Works every time. 

I sat back down and with you in one arm tried to finish my coffee so we could go home and you could have a long awaited nap. An old lady walked past and said that you were such a beautiful baby.

"He's even beautiful when he screams!" I joked.

Another lady walked in. She was an old lady. Short. Alone. She ordered a large latte to take away. She seemed almost stressed out.

She waited for her coffee and it was made in an instant. She turned around to walk out and she looked at you, Luke. She smiled and you smiled back. She almost had tears in her eyes as she interacted with you.

She looked at you, and said, "Oh, my day can start now, because I have seen your smile."

And then you laughed.

You laughed that fantastic hysterical laugh. You could see your lack of teeth.

"Oh! I get a laugh too!" She said.

See, some people are lonely. There are so many hurting people in the world. While we often concern ourselves with the big picture - going overseas to feed the hungry (which is of course equally as important!) - sometimes our mission is just here.

Your smile is a blessing Luke. You are a blessing to everybody. 

Tak perlulah keliling dunia

Don't need to travel the world

Keep smiling, baby. I hope when you are older you can read this and know how something so simple can be a big blessing to somebody. My prayer for you my darling is that you will be a blessing to everybody, not because you travel far and wide, not because you are rich, but just with the beautiful personality that I can already see at 5 months of age.

I love you always,

Your Mama

x o x o x o

bilingual boy

My Maternal Child Health Nurse was going through her checklist at our 4 month visit.

"So, does he respond to his name?"

I bit my lip. "Ummmm...." I really had to think about it. Admittedly Luke probably thinks his name is poo-bum, or refers to that as time to change his nappy.

I also call him 'Bubby Boy'.
"Why are you calling him a pig!?" Asked my confused husband one day - 'Babi' in bahasa means pig.

But does Luke know his name? Right at this moment I am trying to get him to sleep. He has gotten out of his wrap and is now rolling around and making typical baby noises. I said in a stern voice, "Luke!"... He looked at me and laughed. I wonder if he thinks it's his name or just another funny noise I make.

I got this in an email I subscribe to which gives me week-by-week guides to my baby:

Even though you can't understand your baby, he's beginning to be able to understand you. That's why it's important to talk to him as you move through the day. Narrate what you're doing: "Here's your bottle." "Ready for your bath?" In a few months he'll understand you perfectly when you say the word "bottle" or "bath." You don't have to be a nonstop chatterbox — babies appreciate quiet, too. All you need to do is converse with him like the little companion he is.

(Read more here)

It made me think about how we speak to Luke, and even how we interact as a family.

Come to our house and you will probably get lost. Naturally, Hendrik and I speak in two languages. We have certain words that automatically come out in Bahasa Indonesia. Some words just stay in English because we can't be bothered. It probably comes across as rude that we automatically just speak Indonesian, but please be assured that we don't do it on purpose.

It made me wonder how Luke will acquire language. We speak very mixed to the point where he will probably think it is all one language. How he will communicate with both sets of parents (one only speaking English, the other speaking no English) will indeed be interesting.

Even when we talk to him, we use both languages. When it's time to eat I say.. "are you hungry?" (with the -gry part of the word very high pitched). Hendrik bathes him every night at says "mau mandi?" (do you want a bath?). I sometimes will speak Bahasa to Luke and he laughs at me.

Something I will be exploring is how to raise a bilingual baby. It's very high on my priority list!

Is there more than one language in your house? How do you manage these languages?

Luke on a plane

  This week I am blogging from my home town in South Australia. I am using my Mum's laptop, and the backspace key doesn't work.

I recently blogged that I would soon be taking Luke on his first flight. I can now say that I have finally done it.

It wasn't just a new experience for Luke, but als of me. We went on a small little 50-seater plane with propellors. I have never been on one before so I was a little afraid with how I would go. While I was a bit afraid, I was so focussed on Luke the whole time it wasn't so bad.

Actually I liked the flight - it was a short one, from Melbourne to Mildura on Qantas Link. We only got some disgusting muffin and a glass of water, and there was no inflight entertainment.

It had been a big week. We had been in the Melbourne CBD staying at a hotel for a few days. This was big for Luke as it was different surrounds and I find that the more he is out of his house the more he feels out of sorts. We watched the olymics as he woke up for his morning feed and had a nice breakfast at the not so nice motel we were staying, then packed up, got a phonecall from reception because we were late checking out (and then I used poor Luke as an excuse but clearly we were just taking our sweet arse time) and we got Luke in the car. Our flight wasn't until 1:50pm and it was 10:00am so we had a bit of time to kill.

Hendrik suggested we go to Essendon for brunch as it was only 10 minutes away from the airport. Luke had been asleep for barely 5 minutes when we arrived at Essendon and then didn't sleep as we were there. We left there at around 12 and headed for the airport. Again, Luke had just dosed off and we had to get him out of the car again.

Luke got his own boarding pass! Hendrik came with us to the gate and Luke was obviously overtired by this stage and we hadn't even gotten on the plane. With a teary eye Hendrik let us board and we got told off for trying to take a photo of Luke getting on the plane.

The flight attendant welcomed us and gave us an infant seat belt. She came and instructed me how to put it on and then talked really quickly about what to do in an emergancy. So fast that I couldn't really take it in and I began to panic in my heart. 

As I strapped Luke in I could tell he was getting so upset. The plane hadn't even started its engines! I knew what he was thinking: what are you putting this on me for, I just need to sleep, where's Daddy gone? The flight attendant gave us a pillow.

The propellors began to whizz and we began to taxi. I felt my stomach churning. I was so lucky I had my Mum there too because I don't think I could have coped. As we ran down the runway and climbed, my ears hurt. Luke began to scream. I tried to give him is dummy, he wouldn't take it. I tried to feed him, he wouldn't take it. So I just let him scream and buried my head as I could feel the other passengers throwing me a death wish.

After the seatbelt sign went off I 'unplugged' him and threw him over my shoulder (he likes that). He looked out the window with awe and wonder with all of the beautiful clouds flying past. The flight attendant came over and told me not to worry about Luke screaming, and to try and feed him if I could.

I strapped him back in, rested his head on the pillow. He fed until he slept. The flight attendant walked past and gave me an 'OH HOW PRECIOUS IS HE' look. I even shut my eyes and had a snooze.

As we began to descend he woke up and cried. He didn't scream, just gave me that painful, whimpering cry like it was hurting. We came down really quick. Before we knew it we were on the ground and the captain said "Welcome to Mildura". I looked outside and there was a little house - THAT was the terminal. More like, "welcome to the middle of nowhere!"

As the passengers disembarked and walked past me, one commented that he was now conditioned for flying. I think Luke did rather well considering I've been on flights where babies SCREAM the whole way.

As we walked off the tarmac I threw my baby in the air and he gave me a delightful smile. I breathed in the clean, crisp country air that I have been longing for for so long.

We collected our baggage from what resembles the Tiger Airways 'shed' at Tullamarine and walked to our car which was just a few metres away.

Photo from Mildura Airport Website

Really, flying to Mildura is much easier and better than flying to Adelaide. The planes have their own stairs so you don't have to wait for an airbridge. There's only one plane at the whole airport so you have your bags within a matter of minutes. The parking is cheaper and the flight is shorter. There's even no traffic to get to the airport.

We changed Luke's nappy on the back of Mums car as he peed on me. We then took the delightful 3 hour journey back to my home town.

Now I have coped with this journey, I can now look forward to the impending Indonesia-trip which will contain 5 flights in November!

Keep Indonesian Alive!

I didn't just learn Indonesian,
I danced too.

I want to tell you a story. It's usually the story I tell when people ask me, "kok bisa Bahasa Indonesia?"

I grew up in a small town in South Australia. I went to primary school in this town, and then had to make a move over to Victoria to complete high school. I commuted with a time difference, that was fun. Not to mention the time when the Olympics were on, and Victoria started daylight savings a month before South Australia.

In Victoria, I began to study Indonesian. Being a naive country girl, I thought Indonesian was the language of India.

In year 7 I hated Indonesian. In Year 7 I hated the world though. Then in year 8 I grew to like learning another language, and decided to keep it as an elective in year 9, as it was only compulsory until year 8. In year 9 I liked being one of 4 Indonesian students, and although I had only committed to doing Indonesian for one semester, I opted to do it for the full year because of a time table clash.

There were plans for our school to go to Indonesia in 2011, but then September 11 happened and any trips overseas by the Department of Education were cancelled.

I was about to quit in year 10, and then the trip was reconsidered. There were now plans for a trip to Yogyakarta and Bali. I wasn't all too sure that I wanted to go, but then my Mum insisted as I was 1) studying Indonesian and 2) She never had these opportunities when she was at school (my Mum went to my school too!). I then had to go through the process of getting a passport, immunisations and all of that fun and I found myself on a bus to Melbourne with a few different schools. We took a plane from Melbourne to Denpasar, and then Denpasar to Yogyakarta. It was a long day.

Sammy in Yogyakarta

As soon as I got to Yogyakarta I fell in love. Perhaps so much not with the heat, but it was beautiful! I think that what I love most about Indonesia is the people. Furthermore, when you can converse in their native language it makes the friendship even more special.

I was thinking to give up Indonesian in Year 10, but after going to Yogyakarta, and falling in love, I studied it right until Year 12. I was then determined to complete it on a tertiary level.


I had heard great things about the Indonesian program at La Trobe University in Bendigo, and that the program was conducted by a native Indonesian speaker from Yogyakarta.

Sammy in Bali

I was very blessed to get into University in Bendigo. What I studied wasn't important to me, as long as I did Indonesian. Initially I was doing a Bachelor of Arts but at the last minute switched to Education. It seemed Education had more of a direction career wise.

In my third year of uni, I got the chance to go to Kendari, South East Sulawesi with La Trobe. Every time an Indonesian person asks where I have been in Indonesia, and I say Kendari, they have no idea where it is! La Trobe had a lot of students from Kendari studying kemajuan masyarakat (community development). This not only strengthened communities in Indonesia, but made the relationship with Australia and Indonesia stronger.

Sammy in Kendari

And now they want to cut this fabulous program and introduce online learning. How can one learn a language or culture through online means? We will have teachers in schools not being able to pronounce words properly.

Sammy in Bandung

I feel we should have more value for language, especially that of our closest neighbour. In Singapore, it is compulsory to be bilingual. Being bilingual is a great super-power. Not only can you talk behind peoples backs (he he), you can learn more about your mother tongue.

"why do we learn Indonesian at school when the kids can't speak English properly!?"

Believe it or not, but I never 'got' English grammar until I studied Indonesian. The comparison and contrast of the two languages taught me how language works. And the study of Indonesian, be it at school or university is not just a study of language, but also of culture. Indonesia, being so rich and diverse in culture, promotes a wider world view for our children, something that is ever so important in this increasingly multicultural Australia.

Sammy in Jakarta

This is something very close to my heart, so please, wherever you are in the world, it will only take a minute...

CLICK HERE AND SIGN THE PETITION TO SAVE INDONESIAN AT LA TROBE UNIVERSITY

And also because my lecturer, Nita, is the loveliest lady in the world and deserves to stay there!

Thank you!!

Birth story: Chapter four

Chapter four: PUSH!

Suddenly I was screaming louder than before. I didn’t know that it could even be possible. Kelsey took a look and said that I had ruptured my membranes. That’s fancy midwife talk for waters breaking. I was beginning to panic. I had heard stories about the water being different colours meaning the baby was distressed. I asked that they were normal, they were.

I had the sudden urge to push. I began to scream. “I need to push, I wanna push!”

I could see the feet of the good looking doctor behind the curtain. I was feeling so miserable I almost told him to bugger off, but then thought I may eventually appreciate the extra company and set of hands (as long as they stayed away from ‘that’ area) later on.

Kelsey told me I needed to calm down, and that I couldn’t push until they checked me out first. I had some more gas and the head midwife, I think she is the boss, came in and told me to calm down. By then I had had some more gas and I looked into her eyes. They weren’t that lovely green colour like Kelsey and Jess’, but they were brown. Nonetheless I told her she had beautiful eyes also. Then Kelsey broke it to me that I couldn’t have gas when I was pushing. I was devastated.

They had to do another one of those invasive internals to make sure I was 10cm before I could start pushing. And this time I had to have two, to make sure. By this stage it didn’t hurt anymore. Thank goodness I was 10cm.

Kelsey asked what I was having. I didn’t tell many people what I was having when I was pregnant so I hesitated, but I told her that I was having a boy. She asked if I had a name picked out and I told her that I had, and it was a secret!

They raised the bed so that I could hang over the back of it. They said it would be easier to push this way and that gravity would help me through it. It was so hot and they made me take off all of my clothes. By this stage I figured everyone had seen everything so why not. I was still boiling. I asked if they could turn the heater off, but they said they had to keep the room really warm for when the baby came out.

I looked at the clock. It was about 5pm. I had no idea how long it would take to push the baby out. I actually doubted somewhat that I could, as I thought that because my Mum had me via C-section, it must automatically make me the same. The midwives didn’t understand that when I told them. This is the part when I started to push.

With every contraction I pushed like I was doing a poo. The midwives were cheering me on, saying, “put it into your bum! Yeah, that’s it!” Then they got a torch out and shone it where the sun doesn’t shine. “Wow, he has black hair like his daddy!” they said. The student doctor had to hold this thing to check the baby’s heartbeat against my stomach. It was so tight and uncomfortable but it had to stay there.

I think I may had done a poo. It felt like I was not getting anywhere, but the midwives assured me that the baby was definitely moving down. Throughout the course of the pushing, I thought about really random things, such as the tulips in Holland. Then I thought, maybe it’s not a boy. Maybe the sonographer got it wrong! She was a student, and it could have just been an umbilical cord in the way. I needed to get this baby out, because I needed to know.

Once I got near to the end of pushing, they made me change position – to my side, lying down. Hendrik was given the job of holding one leg up in the air. I asked him to put it on his shoulder so that it didn’t feel like it was going to fall. As I continued to push, Hendrik held my leg while the student doctor wiped my face and gave me sips of water.

Kelsey got an apron on. She told me to do little puffs and push very slowly. She told me it would sting. As I kept going I kept waiting for the sting. No sting, perhaps the baby is still a fair way off. I kept pushing and puffing, and just when I thought it’d be at least another half hour, suddenly the pressure was gone and I saw a whole body slip out…

Birth Story: Chapter two

Chapter two: the beginning...

It was 1am onWednesday, the 21^st of March 2012 when I felt a twinge. I got up togo to the loo and told my husband I thought I could be in labour. I keptgetting these strange feelings in my stomach, like a pain. They would come andgo at different times. Actually, it wasn’t that bad. If this is what labourwas, it was going to be easy. How wrong I was!

Hendrik insisted Icalled the Midwife. I got on the phone and the midwife told me not to worry.She said that it sounded like I still had a fair way to go. She explained thatcontractions generally get worse with time, and that they would gradually worktheir way into my back. She also told me that they would be more regular andcloser together.

By 5am I thought theyhad gotten worse and closer so I rang the midwife again. Because I had rang asecond time, and I sounded like I had absolutely no idea what I was talkingabout, she asked me to come in at 9am for an assessment.

We got up, hadshowers, ate breakfast and were down at the hospital by nine. I was in mypyjamas still. We had put the bag in the car for my hospital stay.

A nice midwife calledJess came and took me to a consultation room. Hendrik happily told her that Ihad a sister called Jess also. She hooked me up to a machine to monitor thebaby’s heartbeat and my contractions. She made me press a button whenever I hada contraction.

After two hours hookedup to this machine, Jess feeling my stomach, she then said that she wanted todo an internal. An in-WHAT? I explained that I was totally not okay with this,but really, it had to be done. I think I may have cried.

I was already 3cm ofthe way to a baby! I was excited, because this meant I was in pain for a goodreason.

Then Jess said, “okay,you can go home now”. Go home? Am I not having a baby today? She then explainedI needed to go home, because if I stayed there they may start inducing me orsomething. So home we went.

I woke up severaltimes throughout the night when the contractions seemed to be getting into myback. I called the midwifes a few times and they told me several things, that Ishould have a warm shower. So I had a 2 hour shower (or so it seemed). Istarted using a TENS machine, which is like electric pulses that go down yourback to confuse the pain. At first it worked, but in the end it just felt likeit was burning a hole in my back.

That night I calledthe midwife again and she told me to use a warm pack on my back and have apanadol. I had bought a warm pack for labour off eBay – one of those liquidones that ‘frost up’ when you press the little button inside and they heat up.I should have tested it a few weeks before, because it didn’t work!

The pain got so badthat I began to scream every time I got a contraction. Hendrik ‘breathed’ withme, but eventually I felt like I couldn’t do all that stupid breathing theytalk about. I was in so much pain I couldn’t even pee. Something felt so wrong.

By Friday morning (sotwo days later), Hendrik told me to stop calling the midwives and being bubbly.He told me to seriously call them and tell them that I am in so much pain. Idid. A contraction came on while I was on the phone and so they then insisted Icome in.

It was raining veryheavily. Hendrik dropped me at the entrance of the hospital and I went in.Suddenly everything became overwhelming and I began to cry. I sat on a littlechair and cried while Hendrik parked the car in the ridiculously expensivecarpark. A pregnant lady came and asked if I was okay (remembering that Ididn’t even look pregnant. Just fat). I explained the events of the last 48hours as this stranger comforted me. She said that she would be doing the samething in the next few weeks.

Hendrik arrived and wewent upstairs where midwife Jess met us and took us straight into theconsultation room. She did another one of those horrible examinations, and saidthat I was now 6-7cm. 

She immediately gave me a room, Hendrik got my bags, andI settled in.

I had wanted a waterbirth from the beginning. Every time I had called the midwife I reminded themof this. Jess came in and sadly broke the news to me that I couldn’t have awater birth as there was nobody on that day who was trained to do one. My heartshattered. It was going to be my way to get through labour. I didn’t know how Iwas going to now.

Not long after that,the head-midwife came in and asked a favour. There was a student doctor whoneeded to witness a birth. I said sure, thinking the more the merrier. How Iregretted it when he walked in, was actually rather good looking and muchyounger than I was. I didn’t want that nice young man staring where the sundoesn’t shine!

(to be continued... stay tuned)

Birth Story: Chapter One

Chapter one ~ The High Tea

It had been a long and difficult pregnancy, although it did only seem like yesterday when I saw those two lines staring at me, and rushing to my friends house to ask for advice in the middle of the night.

I was certain that I was going to ‘go’ early. At 37 weeks I waited and waited. I knew something was going to happen. But barely a braxon hicks contraction. Nothing. I really wanted to go early and have a special leap year baby born on the 29^th of February.

The three weeks before my due date I spent viciously cleaning the house. I was restlessly nesting. But nothing was happening. My due date came and went, and I was still pregnant. I wasn’t looking forward to the birth, but I was so sick of being pregnant. I had been sick for the whole thing. I didn’t see much magic in pregnancy. I wasn’t excited or had any of these feelings that other people seemed to have for me.

Then it happened.

I was on the couch doing my usual pregnant thing. Being lazy, checking Facebook, pinning things on Pinterest. Something on facebook popped up about spare tickets to a High Tea run by Light FM. I was hesitant at first, given that I was already 40 weeks pregnant and more than likely it would be in a different area of Melbourne. But then I asked if I could come along. Why not. It was aimed at mothers, and I was about to become one. Instantly, Lucy, the presenter of their morning show emailed me the details for the high tea the next morning. As I thought, it was on the other side of Melbourne, but I didn’t care as I was going a little crazy being at home all the time.

I was 40 weeks and 3 days when the High Tea was on. I walked in and felt a little awkward at first, but then people started talking to me, and casually asking, “so when are you due”, to which I would reply, “last Friday”. People gave me a look of, ‘are you crazy’, but were generally very nice about it. Lucy so desperately wanted me to go into labour there and then: it would make a great on-air story she said.

I had no feeling of anything happening any time soon. Although, I was a first-timer, I didn’t know what to expect. Was labour so spontaneous that it just comes on while you’re casually eating cake?

The High Tea was great. Sharon from the circle spoke about being isolated, as did GI Jane. I was really glad they spoke about this because it was something I knew I may struggle with, given that I live a fair distance from everybody these days. I got a manicure, and ate these fantastic strawberries.

I didn’t want it to end, because I really liked having people around to talk to. On my way out the crew handed me a showbag and told me their tips to bring on labour: eat spicy food and go for a brisk walk.

I was beginning to get a little desperate. I was already past my due date and I hear it is horrible to be induced. When I got home I began ferociously cleaning a bookcase. Then I went on a fast walk to the mailbox. I almost died walking to the mailbox. It’s outside a milkbar and I had totally lost my breath. I think I worried a few teenagers sitting outside with their cool energy drinks. The problem is, I didn’t look pregnant, I just looked fat. So it looked like a scene from The Biggest Loser.

That evening my husband Hendrik came home. We decided not to cook dinner, but to eat the spicy chips that I got in the showbag. They were nice, but wow were they spicy. I thought I may regret it later as I had suffered pretty bad heartburn the whole pregnancy.

I watched some TV to give the chips a chance to reach my stomach and then went to bed. I slept really well, until about 1am…

That’s when ‘it’ started.

(stay tuned for chapter two)

Ode to Lilly

I remember in the olden days, our local supermarket was called 'Toms'. This was before I was even at school. Funnily enough I found Toms-labelled food in my Mothers pantry when I was home. Let's just say it went straight in the bin. From Toms it became United, and then gradually became a part of South-Australian chain 'Foodland'.

I'm getting side tracked.

Back in the days of Toms, I remember if you bought heaps of shopping, there were actually people who would help it be carried to your car. This was particularly good for the elderly. I don't see this happen anymore (although at Toms, I mean Foodland, it may still happen. Small town.)

It's 2011. I live in the big smoke. I never see anyone at my local Coles help anyone out. This may be because what I've known has been a small town thing, or gradually something that can't happen due to OHS. Nobody helps put your groceries in your car any more. It's every man for himself.

I go to our Coles nearly every day. I find something in our house that needs to be bought. Really, it's just an excuse to get out of the house and go somewhere.

Lilly is a lovely middle aged lady who would be older than my Mum. She calls people 'love' and 'darl'. She works at my local Coles. She is often found on the self serve kiosks. Today I had a lot of shopping and she was on a regular check out.

Lilly and I don't talk a lot, but she seems to know who I am. She has probably been watching my growing bump and wondering when I will pop. When she saw me she surely thought, "hasn't she had that baby yet?"

Lilly gave me heaps of plastic bags and I'm not sure why. She seemed to put only two items in each bag. She must know I might have a need for them soon.

I had started putting the shopping in the trolley when she had finished scanning all of my items and I needed to pay. I began scrounging through my purse for my credit card, all the while doing this, Lilly left the register and... put the rest of the shopping in my trolley for me!

At the end of the transaction she smiled sweetly and told me to "have a lovely day, love!"

I put my own groceries in my car. But the fact that someone went that extra mile for a heavily pregnant lady touched me.

We need more Lilly's in customer service. We need more Lilly's in the world.

I was so chuffed, I left the dollar in my shopping trolley. Bum.

I love your smile

Yesterday afternoon I woke from my afternoon nap. 

You were sitting on the kitchen table, earphones in. 

I know that was really considerate of your pregnant wife having a nap. Thank you.

I know you were just watching something daggy on Youtube.

But I can't forget your smile.

It was from ear to ear.

I've been thinking about that smile all day.

Smile, darling.

It brings so much sunshine to my life...

shoes on, shoes off.

Image source:
http://www.redonline.co.uk/interiors/easy-to-steal-ideas/arranging-objects?img=4

Chantelle asks: "What's the rule in your house, shoes on or off?"

To answer this question I need to start from the start.

When I was a kid, I lived in the middle of nowhere, what some would define as 'the sticks' or 'the outback'. I grew up in a white environment, and the only reason we ever had to take our shoes off in the house is because they were muddy.

Often we'd go out to collect firewood in our shoes. It was often really heavy and we'd not have time to take off our shoes as the fireplace was a fair distance into the house.

If you go to my house in my home town, you will find a collection of shoes at the back door in a cardboard box. There are so many shoes there, and only one person lives in the house, although some are probably mine from when I lived there, 8 years ago.

Basically, in a typical white-australian, particularly in the rural areas, it isn't custom to take off your shoes.

Then I started travelling in Asia.

In 2002 I took my first ever overseas trip to Yogyakarta, the cultural hub of Indonesia. I don't ever remember there being a rule about taking our shoes off inside, although we did stay in hotel/hostel type accommodation.

Then in 2007 I went to Kendari, South East Sulawesi. This was a much different place. We stayed in home stay accommodation with families. When I first got to the door, they asked me to please take off my shoes and gave me some slippers inside the house.

We took a trip out to a rural area in Sulawesi. At my homestay family here, they told me just to wear my shoes inside. I get the feeling that this may be because they are in the 'outback of indonesia'.

By the time I returned to Indonesia with my then-boyfriend-now-husband in 2010, I knew what I needed to do. Every house I went in I took my shoes off. I'd learnt this now also, because I'd moved into a sharehouse with Chinese people in Melbourne.

So now I shall revisit Chantelle's question, "What's the rule in your house, shoes on or off?"

The answer: off.

But we wear slippers inside.

This has come without discussion. It keeps the floor cleaner. For my husband, it's habit. For me, it makes me feel more Asian :)

[ This entry was inspired by this one... ]

Feb photo a day

So this month I have been doing the feb photo a day challenge. It has been great fun because it has kept my mind active, particularly as I've been spending a whole lot of time at home recently.

It was created by a blogger who goes by the name of Fat Mum Slim, but I'm pretty sure in real life her name is Chantelle. Check out her blog, I aspire to have a blog as cool as hers some day.

I also joined a group on Facebook and could see what others were doing. It's really interesting to see people's different perspectives on the topics of each day.

I used instagram to take my photos on my iPhone. Admittedly, I haven't really used my camera since I got an iPhone. I then linked photos up on Facebook and Twitter, under the hashtag #febphotoaday.

Here's how my leap-year February has been, pictorially:

1st February 2012 - your view today

On this day I was at home, sorting out the impending nursery for my baby. This is the view out the window.

2nd February 2012 - words

These three words do not only just describe me, but it is my favorite book at the moment (Up the Duff). My sister gave it to me in my early pregnancy, and I can say that it has kept me sane. Kaz Cooke is a genius, and she has taken the edge off a lot of the anxiety I have been feeling! I have religiously read a chapter a week, being a 'week ahead' - as it goes week by week. My sister was so awesome she even bought me the sequel Kidwrangling for my birthday! I definitely want to send Kaz a 'thankyou' note when my baby is born.

3rd February 2012 - hands

This photo was taken at Lake Tekapo, New Zealand on our honeymoon, hence the new bling. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a white European girl, while my husband is a dark Chinese man. Chinese are typically a bit fairer, but hubby is darker than the usual. Luckily his Chinese face makes up for it!

4th February 2012 - A Stranger

My friend Bel told me that this looked delicious but wondered why it was 'a stranger'. Truth is, this is one of many of the 'strangers' I now know. Foods that I loved to eat and now not allowed to. I can't have raw eggs like this, nor can I have sashimi or raw oysters. All because I'm pregnant! I tell you the first pit stop we make on the way home from the hospital will be McDonalds for a 50c ice cream cone! This photo was taken the day after our wedding. We treated ourselves to this breakfast with the money my Gran sent us. Thanks Gran!

5th February 2012 - 10am

Today is Sunday, and at 10am we were at church. The church is starting a series on loving people, and the theme is '3D vision'. I'm not exactly sure what the point of the glasses were this morning, but hey.

6th February 2012 - Dinner

We like to cook in our house. This is my husbands 'risotto' that we make in the rice cooker. A very simple meal indeed - just rice, flavour of some sort (sometimes simply stock or a McCormick mix from the supermarket), mixed veggies and meat, all chucked in the rice cooker. Husband eats everything with sambal. My husband tried to make acar for me, which is an Indonesian pickled veggie that I was craving. Unfortunately he went a bit overboard on the lemon juice and it tasted like dishwashing detergent.

7th February 2012 - Button

I don't know what my husband is doing but I keep sewing buttons back on his shirt! Although, it has brought out the creativity in me, and now I want to learn to sew. I keep looking for sewing machines on eBay and keep asking my mum for help because I don't know anything about them!

8th February 2012 - Sun

This is the sun out of my favorite childrens book: The Very Hungry Catterpillar by Eric Carle. Hope my baby likes it as much as I do!

9th February 2012 - Front Door

I only noticed this sticker a few months after it was put there. My mother in law put it there when she was here last April for our wedding. I'm guessing it's some sign of good luck. Any of my readers read Chinese and tell me what it means? Just a few days ago I discovered another one on a jewellery box!

10th February 2012 - Self Portrait

I drew this picture of myself, stuck it to a postcard of the Eureka Tower. I then sent the postcard to a girl in America via postcrossing. You can see the postcard and all the statistics here. 

11th February 2012 - Something that makes me happy

A beautiful husband who makes me breakfast in bed on a Saturday morning! Complete with rose petals! Pictured is a glass of milo, fresh grapes, spinach omelette and carrot sticks.

12th February 2012 - Closet

Nothing to see here.

13th February 2012 - Blue

My groovy 'mouse' has groovy blue mood lights!

14th February 2012 - Heart

The closest Facebook world is getting to a 'bump-pic'. (Seriously, stop asking. It's really rude!) Oh I miss wearing my wedding and engagement ring. Thanks puffy fingers and hot weather.

15th February 2012 - Phone

This is in the beautiful town of Arrowtown, New Zealand. Taken on our honeymoon. Oh how I miss New Zealand! 

16th February 2012 - Something New

(eep... Where has this photo disappeared to??)

17th February 2012 - Time

Our local newspaper back home is called The Border Times. It isn't very big - less than 10 pages and comes out weekly. This is my Mum reading it in Egypt somewhere.

18th February 2012 - Drink

I love gardening. But I'm good at killing plants too. Need to remember to water them, particularly in the hot weather. We have a rose, lots of succulents, a few herbs and tonnes of solar lights!

19th February 2012 - Something I hate doing

Calm down. I just hate cutting raw vegetables with my swollen, sore, pregnant wrists!

20th February 2012 - Handwriting

Today I sent another postcard via postcrossing. It is going to Beijing, China. I tried to write in Mandarin on the card, although I don't think it's necessary.

21st February 2012 - Favorite photo of me

This is me when I was about 3-4 years old. I remember I loved this swing, but my bottom quickly got too big. Behind me is our bird cage - we used to have lots of budgies. This photo makes me wonder what my own children will look like. I was such a blonde child, and my husband is so dark. One thing I know though: is they will be drop dead gorgeous!

22nd February 2012 - Where I work

Well, this is where I used to work. Every day I would wake up at 6am. I then eat my breakfast, get changed, put my make up on and wait. I wait from a phone call from an agency to tell me whether they have work for me or not. I live my life on call. I'm what they call a Casual Relief Teacher (CRT). Because I'm loyal to this lifestyle, I tend to pick up plenty of work. My car is my office. My boot is full of teaching resources and books that I can pull out in a second. Sadly, at the end of last year I had to say goodbye to my Toyota Corolla, who I named after it's previous owner and my Grandpa, Roy. I have loved this car so much, but would not accomodate for a new baby. So my new office is a Honda Jazz, but it's yet to be an office. 

23rd February 2012 - Shoes

These were my feet in 2004. I had just finished year 12. I went to a schoolies event with my good friend Amy. She wears the other pair of shoes, which also belong to me. I loved these shoes. Why don't they make Dunlop Volleys like these anymore?

24th February - Inside my bathroom Cupboard

Duckies that were given to me in various baby shower gifts! I have a few more, but this is a representation of what my family is soon to look like!

25th February 2012 - Green

This is Bogor, Indonesia. I went there in January 2011. I miss Indonesia every day.

26th February 2012 - Night

Watching Kung Fu Panda on a sticky Melbourne Sunday night with my hubby.

27th February 2012 - Something you ate

I love Indonesia for their range of food. I love it because never could I eat something like this in Australia for such a low price. This is toast, topped with bananas, ice cream, strawberry and chocolate topping. I think I recall getting heart palpitations after consuming this.

28th February 2012 - Money

Do you think I could feature on a $5 note?

29th February 2012 - Something you're listening to

SBS Chill is a live streaming radio station that you can listen to via an app on your iPhone. I really am enjoying it for a bit of variety.

***

And that's it, that's February! I am so thankful to have taken part in this 'project' this month. And just when I was sad that it was over, guess what....