All posts tagged: #breastfeeding

Parenting by online committee

In this current age of what feels like parenting by online committee, I’ve seen many a mum taken out by commenters shout-typing their opposing opinion and take that mum down a peg or two for daring to share her thoughts. On the flip side I’ve seen some incredible support and rallying, often sparked by those exact same women or by very similar topics, in carefully monitored groups. A group I’m in, The Motherhood Project, recently shared an article written for Stuff by one of the group members, Rebecca Goodhue, about how relentless she’s finding motherhood because her baby is a non-sleeper. I read her article and completely related because I knew that non-sleeping life. It’s exhausting, it’s hard, it’s lonely, it takes the shine off the moments that everyone says you must treasure, and you feel like you must be doing something really wrong because your baby isn’t doing the things with sleeping that everyone says theirs is doing. I thought thankful thoughts about Rebecca on behalf of the mothers of other non-sleepers, because there’s …

Step aside, Sanctimommy

Not only does the Internet offer up things that make me laugh and give me the opportunity to see what complete strangers are doing with their lives and décor, it helps me feel connected to the world on days when I don’t see any other adults. The Internet has also introduced me to the concept of the ‘Sanctimommy’. A sensational mash-up of the words ‘Sanctimonious’ and ‘Mommy’, a Sanctimommy exists to tell the rest of us exactly when and how we’re screwing up parenting, without sparing our mediocre mothering feelings. Let’s say you entered a picture of your family enjoying a picnic at the beach for an online competition. “Oh cute”, chimes in the Sanctimommy, “but I can see a bottle of bought sunscreen on the blanket there – it blows my mind that people rub toxic chemicals on their precious baby’s skin. I make my own from organic oils. It’s time consuming, but I actually love my children so it’s worth the effort. Those sandwiches are clearly made from refined flour – are they …

Go with your gut

In the glamour stakes, the gut ranks somewhere alongside the armpit in the eyes of most people, and is generally left to its own devices. Far from simply being a means of getting food from one end of our body to the other, the gut is the powerhouse of our immune system, and a factory for brain chemicals. I spoke with Rosanne Sullivan from The WellBeing Centre in Auckland and found out why we should be giving this part of our body a whole lot of love and attention. “It’s estimated that roughly 80 per cent of our immune system is location in our gut”, says Rosanne Sullivan, ” and a significant amount of serotonin (our ‘happiness hormone’) along with other brain chemicals are made in the gut. Yet despite being one of our biggest organs, the gut is not often a popular topic of conversation. But it’s something we should pay a lot more attention to, as the negative effects of an under-performing gut can present in surprising ways. “The gut is a big, long …

The Indignity of Motherhood

I heard the phrase “you check your dignity in at the door during childbirth” bandied about a few times when I was pregnant. Sure, I’d seen the antenatal class photos and thought I knew what was up (and down, and sideways, and is-that-even-part-of-a-human-body?!), but after four endometriosis operations, a myriad of tests and a round of IVF, I already felt like my dignity was that unclaimed suitcase you see going around the luggage carousel at the airport. “It’s okay – you’re growing a baby!” Pregnancy introduces new levels of embarrassment to women the world over. Maybe you opened a car door and threw up in the gutter of a busy street while in the throes of morning sickness. Perhaps you kicked your shoes off under the desk at work then found yourself unable to cram them back on your swollen tootsies when it came time to attend a meeting. It’s not unusual to burst into noisy sobs during TV ads. Inappropriately timed and completely unexpected burps that rival those of a drunk first year university …

Give up

Supportive parenting advice from the toddler as I tried (and failed) to “shhhhh” and pat the baby to sleep in her own bed this afternoon: “Oh mummy, just give up and give her a boob until she falls asleep, or put her in the front-pack!” It’s a sad day when even your two year old sees fit to point out your parental failings.


I jumped to the conclusion that the lad re-installing our bath must surely be high. He wouldn’t look at me when I asked him questions (really exciting questions, such as “are there any cleaning products I should avoid?”), handed the under-the-house key to his colleague while staring at his boots to give back to me even though I was standing right there, and then bid a hasty retreat to his van. As I helped Amy wash her hands just after they left while tutting about high tradies, I glanced in the mirror and saw my shirt was unbuttoned to the naval. I haven’t been this much of an exhibitionist since University!

Just Like Giselle

Early-morning multitasking. This is JUST like the multitasking photo that supermodel Giselle posted. Except that she where she was multitasking breast feeding with having her hair, makeup and nails done for her in preparation for a modelling shoot, I’m multitasking breastfeeding with coaxing Weetbix into a reluctant toddler and managing the emotional needs of a displaced Siamese in preparation for a heady day of hitting the playground and supermarket. Also I’m pretty sure Giselle didn’t have sick on her shoulder in her photo. Other than that, this is JUST the same.

Dignified motherhood = oxymoron

Excellent. Have reached the “going out in public unaware that a boob is out” stage of proceedings. Fortunately said boob was encased in a sturdy-yet-feminine bra, and the look of alarm on the face of my neighbouring car-parker alerted me to my plight before I ventured too far. I laugh in the face of dignity. A sort of hysterical, tearful laugh.