La Dolce Vita

I had a terrible day at work yesterday. It was four-and-a-half hours of hysteria and stress. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong. There were technical issues, human error, yelling…I might have cried a little. You can imagine how happy I was to come home too…a total mess.

Stepping into my house after returning from work feels like I’m an SES worker surveying the damage after a natural disaster except I am no rescue work and the natural disaster is my husband and children.

The mess starts at the front door. There are bits of food, toys, usually some items of clothing that have been shed. The lounge room is always the worst, especially as this is usually where I find my husband lying down, watching TV, rendered useless by the constant need to clean and tidy up when looking after children.

I used to get angry when I saw him lying down watching TV. Now I know better. He starts off really well. He’s patient with them, tries to think of special activities to do with them. He asks them to put their rubbish in the bin as they go. He puts his in the bin too. They bond, watch the Discovery channel. Then someone spills their yoghurt on the carpet. My husband leaps up and starts cleaning the mess. When his head is turned by a fight between the other two kids the yoghurt-spiller tries to ‘help’ by shaking Curash powder over the mess. The earlier fight has escalated and there is screaming or crying involved. The yoghurt mess is still there. My husband can’t get them to stop fighting and his head is starting to ache so he offered them a treat food. He lets them open the packages themselves to buy himself some time to sort out the yoghurt mess. Wrappers are thrown on the floor or next to the bin, the next argument starts, my husband’s work phone rings….hours later I find him collapsed on the lounge while the children have the time of their lives making the world’s largest and most annoying mess.

Looking after children is as much about cleaning as the happiness of the children themselves. Cleaning aside, he is perfect. Factor in the mess I find the house in most days I have worked or made the mistake of popping up to the shops for a quick hair cut and I usually wish I could tip toe back out of the house and come home much later.

Most nights after everyone is asleep I spend the night cleaning while watching my favourite TV shows. I am usually on my hands and knees picking up stuff while the show is on and during commercials I have made a game out of trying to get things done before the show comes back on. Last night I washed all the dinner dishes during only two commercials during The Good Wife. I took one of my kids to the toilet during another one and I hung out the washing in one too. It was like an adrenaline sport. I was so desperate not to miss a second of The Good Wife that I seemed to tap into some forgotten energy source and became a super-mum.

I know. This is all very sad. But hey, what’s the point of getting upset? It is what it is, yelling and arguing doesn’t help. I prefer to pick my battles, make the most of bad situations and use the long and very loud TV commercials in a more productive way.

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi

I have been called in to work this afternoon and I have to go. My son Philip needs a second lot of dental surgery and as you know it is pricey, even with my snazzy private health insurance.

My sister who is my usual helper is at work today so she can’t pick my son up from school for me. I rang my mum but she is about to start painting another section of her house (she has been hit by the renovating bug big time). So I’m thinking I might have to ring work and say I can’t come in when I remember I have a couple of other options.

I am close to a handful of mums and my son’s school. I texted my favourite one and asked her if she could drop Philip home for me. Philip hates it when this mum drops him home from school (it’s only happened once before) because this friend’s daughter is my son’s ‘girlfriend’. I’ll really hear about it when he gets home today. “Mum, why did you get Laura’s mum to bring me home? I was so embarrassed and Laura won’t stop chasing me!”

If I had to I could raise my children on my own with absolutely no help but it would be really, really hard. I wouldn’t be able to work, socialise, shop…I’d be a different person. I’m sure I’d get used to it and try and make the most of it. I do love being a mum and they do get a good eighty per cent of my time and attention. But because of my handful of amazing, trusted co-mother’s, I can be a mum, work and get my teeth cleaned.

I love being a mother and I particularly love being a mother in my special little community. It’s a community of families. We all have kids and similar lives. We have two or three children, husbands who work long hours, we have part-time jobs and we all wish we had more time to do our hair. We look really good when we’re all dressed up but some days we look like we’ve just rolled out of bed, thrown our hair in a ponytail and stumbled through our day. We do a pretty good job at being wives and mothers with occasional slip ups like putting our kids in the wrong uniform, packing a food that has been vetoed by said children or forgetting to do their homework until the morning it is due. We’re okay wives too. We start of most days planning not to say anything negative about our husbands/partners but we slip up with a roll of the eyes during a conversation about their work hours or availability to look after the kids while we go to the gym, get our hair done or go to see a soothing movie with snacks we don’t have to share and no need for wet-wipes.

I love being a mother because I get to share the experience with my sisters, my friends, my own mother…it’s special. Our children are blessed, we are blessed and the best part of it is when I’ve having a bad day or a bad mummy moment, there’s no judgement. There’s instant empathy, hugs, offers of chocolate and community.

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi

An old friend rang me tonight. When we met years ago we locked eyes across a crowded room and instantly connected. Our husbands get along really well and we’ve been a part of each others lives since that night. I truly believe that true friendships are similar to true romances…that instant connection when you know you are friends and will be forever, no matter how much time has passed or how many obstacles family life puts in your way.

When this friend and I catch up (twice a year at most due to distance and babies) we spew out all our thoughts, feeling and truths in record time and tonight was no different. After catching each other up on our most recent struggles with motherhood and feeling better and less alone as a result, we started talking about the usual topics of conversation that female friends always end up talking about. You know the ones…diet, exercise, looks, cosmetic surgery…

Yes, cosmetic surgery. For some reason this particular topic has been coming up frequently in my life and friendships, particularly when my sister and I dream of a day when we can get a ‘mummy-tuck’ – where the loose skin left over from three c-sections each is tightened through our belly buttons. I told my friend about this desire and added that a boob lift would be great too because after breastfeeding three kids they look like empty socks and I need to roll them up to get them into my bra. Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea. Sorry if this is too much information. I promise my next post will be about food, movies or TV shows.

Anyway, my friend and I started going through our list of procedures we’d love to get done if time, money and baby sitting weren’t issues. From head to toe my list looks like this…hair coloured and thickened, chemical peels for my face for wrinkles and spots, tinted eyebrows and eyelashes, laser hair removal in all relevant areas, boob lift, mummy tuck, mole removal, manicure, pedicure, a little botox, teeth veneers and/or whitening and head to toe testing for all potential ailments. I am always scared of getting sick and I think I’d feel happier if once a year I had the time and the money to get tested for all illnesses so I don’t need to worry that my children will be motherless. Oh, and a food delivery service to lose/maintain weight. And a new eliptical trainer in my bedroom and an exercise bike too.

My list above is pretty much everything I want done that I don’t have the time or money to do. It’s not all cosmetic and it’s not all superficial but it’s all in this list because I don’t have time to do any of it. Whenever I go to do any of these things I either don’t have time or I can’t spare the money or I feel guilty leaving the kids to do it.

In reality I could get all this done in a few weeks. It would be so cool to just go away for two weeks a year and get this all done and touched up and then just resume my life. When I look good I feel good, I’m happier, I’m a better wife and mother…it’s not right…it just is.

I do what I can. I watch what I eat, exercise when I can, blow dry my hair myself a couple of times a week, give myself manicures, facials and I put makeup on most days. But it’s always so inconvenient and hard. It’s always instead of housework or instead of playing with the kids. It’s always rushed and it’s rarely pleasurable.

So now I’m realising how vain and superficial all this is. I know many mothers who don’t get any of this done and are perfectly happy. They are great people, great mothers and love their lives.

When I daydream about all these things I feel happy I haven’t had a chance to get them all done. Didn’t Kayne West’s mother die from liposuction? What if something went wrong and the kids are left motherless by my vain quest for physical betterment? What if the tests do find something? What if it was all done and I was still unhappy and unsatisfied? What then? What would be left?

When you have three children, a part-time job and other added responsibilities your happiness becomes about starting each day fresh and new. Each day is full of hope and potential. If I get everything I think I want then what I will I leave myself with? Real goes? Real desires? Valid choices? I might start looking into things I should be choosing now like furthering my education, volunteering to help the underprivileged or just making more of each day. Each day I fall short but I always go to bed planning on a better day the next day, cosmetic-surgery-free.

My perfect version of tomorrow looks like this…I will get up at 6am instead of pressing snooze for half an hour. I will get straight up, wash my face and eat a piece of fruit and then do my exercise before the kids wake up instead of while they eat breakfast or lunch. After my exercise I will shower and get dressed. I will have time to do my hair and makeup and I’ll be feeling as good as I can. Then kids will get up and I’ll dress them straight away and we’ll all eat breakfast together. They’ll eat what I put in front of them and then carry their plates into the kitchen. The house will look clean because I’ve cleaned it the night before (I cleaned it at lunch time but it’s a mess again). We’ll go to the shops and I’ll pick up a few things and remember that I need fresh bread instead of forgetting and having to use frozen bread. Then I’ll have lunch with my family and friends. The kids will sit down and behave while I eat. We’ll go home and they’ll both have a nap while I work on my novel (I haven’t touched it in months). I’ll drink my coffee, have a healthy snack and start dinner. The kids will get up, I’ll pick my son up from school. During the course of the afternoon I’ll sell an article or a book or a cheque I’ve forgotten about will arrive in the mail. My husband will make it home for dinner and help me clean up. We’ll all play Uno or Monopoly and my husband will put the little kids to bed while I spend time with my eldest son.

Utopia…idealistic, unrealistic and unreachable. But without the chaos of my actual day, what would I write about?

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi

I was at a get together with friends on Sunday. We were attempting to catch up while our kids ran around like mad having a ball. As we often do we started talking about our health. I can’t remember how the subject came up but next thing I knew I was talking about my exercise regime. After describing it and recommending it to my friends I over-heard the husband of one of my friends use the word ‘offensive’. I’m not sure if he was talking about me giving exercise advice to his wife but I suddenly thought my advice could have been offensive. When they talked about how they found it hard to exercise was I meant to tell them that they were perfect and didn’t need to increase their exercise? I’ve never been one to lie to fulfill social conventions but I also hate to think I offended these two friends in particular who are without doubt two of the most beautiful women I have ever met.

I tell everyone I can about Total Body Sculpt with Gilad. I discovered it almost three years ago on Discovery Healthy on Foxtel. It’s a twenty minute toning and sculpting workout with light weights and it is the best exercise discovery I have ever made. It’s intense and effective. It’s quick and convenient. All I needed was to buy a set of light weights and I was off. Nothing has ever toned me as quickly as this exercise show has. Since having my little girl I have been doing it almost every second day. I’ve never had toned thighs before. I have toned thighs now. I buy and hand out copies of it to everyone who asks what I do for exercise. I’ve given it to both my sisters and two other friends. I hand it out not to be offensive but so they can feel as amazing as I do with little effort. We are all busy and we all have kids. We are all struggling with money and finding time to go to the gym. I just want them to discover how easy it can be to tone up without worrying that they should be spending hours each week jogging, taking them away from the things they really want to do.

I don’t believe in exercise for weight loss but how could her husband know this? To me weight loss is about diet and I would never tell anyone what to eat. I believe in exercise for mental and physical health. That’s what I was trying to share. And they were happy to hear my suggestions, going so far as to write it all down. As we talked about it another friend who I’d already sent it to said she loves it and plans to start doing it again regularly.

My friends are all so beautiful and I wish they all felt as beautiful as they are but we don’t usually feel as attractive as others see us. Sharing my Gilad secret is my way of letting them know I understand how they feel and helping them to feel better about themselves in a quick and convenient way.

My choice of exercise won’t suit everyone. We all have different exercise personalities. Some of us crave the outdoors and choose to go for a walk, some of us only feel amazing after something sweaty, others like someone to tell them what to do and there are some who are invigorated by the atmosphere in gyms and boot camps. I need to feel muscle fatigue to feel like I’ve exercised but I don’t get much time to myself so I knew if I was to keep it up I would have to find something to do at home and this has been a God-send.

I watched the first episode of the new season of The Biggest Loser tonight. I wanted to hug each and every one of them. Most of us have been much bigger than is comfortable at least once in our lives. I know their pain. I can’t wait to see the joy on their faces as their weight falls and they realise they can control their health and happiness instead of feeling trapped.

When I had my third child, sixteen months after having my second son, I had such weak abdominal muscles that I almost couldn’t lift him up into his seat in my 4WD. It was then that I knew I need a major muscle intervention and my accidental discovery of this amazing exercise show on Foxtel while looking for more shows about raising babies is something I am so thankful for. When they stop running it every now and then I have my DVD version bought on Amazon but I eventually send them an email begging them to put it back on so I have plenty of variety.

Gilad, whoever you are, I am so grateful for you. My biceps, my children and I thank you.

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi

I haven’t ‘slept through’ since the birth of my son almost eight years ago. Sleep for me is what happens when I’m exhausted and can no longer stay upright. I don’t look forward to bedtime and I sometimes don’t put on special sleeping clothes, choosing to fall down in whatever top I was wearing that day.

Since becoming a mother my sleep has been patchy at best. Even when I do go out of my way to prepare for bedtime, the moment my head hits the pillow mummy-mania hits. Are my kids okay? Will we get through the next day in tact and happy? I think of all the things that could go wrong. I jump when I hear noises. I worry about how I’m doing as a mother. I wish I was more successful, calmer, more confident. The pillow to me is like a trigger for all my anxiety and the longer I lie there trying to switch off and get some rest to prepare for the next day, the worse it becomes.

I have developed an extremely bad habit of falling asleep in front of the TV. It’s the only way I can switch off and fall asleep at a reasonable time. By focusing on whatever is on the box I forget to worry and I drift off. My husband usually turns the TV off and tucks me in on his way to work early each morning. When I wake up with the TV off and a blanket over me I feel loved and cared for. I feel like he’s trying to help me, even though he usually makes it all worse and harder. He exaggerates and over-reacts. He loves to look up childhood ache and pains on the internet and read out loud the scariest information he can find. My son’s chest pains could be heart failure (it was constipation). My son’s sore eye could lead to blindness (one sleep later and it was all better). My son’s neck clicked when I lost my grip on him and heard a click. My husband said it could be a broken neck and then carried him to the next room. The ambulance officers I called out to the house said he was fine. Necks sometimes make a cracking noise. So I’m my worst enemy when it comes to anxiety levels and my husband is an enabler or and exacerbater.

How do you achieve calm when you have three little lives in your hands and so many unfulfilled dreams of your own? Where do you turn when everything in the media inflames a parent’s concerns. I have to buy shoes that assist their feet. Don’t go cheap or their feet could become deformed? If I immunise them against deadly and debilitating diseases I have to accept autism? There could be arsenic in apple juice. I am an irresponsible parent for not buying organic food. It’s endless and it’s getting worse as I get older.

Take a holiday and you could die. Send your child to school too early or too late and they are ruined. Eat the wrong foods and you’ll get cancer. Deepak Chopra here I come.

La Dolce Vita,

Jo Abi

I feel about my birthday the way I feel about my weight…the less I think about it the better I feel. Turning 36 feels like a milestone because I am now officially on my way to 40. My distress at turning 36 has nothing to do with vanity (well, not much). It has to do with what I thought I would have achieved by this age that I haven’t.

I thought I would have published several books by now. I thought we’d be in a better financial position. I thought I’d have figured out the key to happiness by now. I thought I’d be dressing better, thinking better and coping better. Instead, I still feel like I am making it all up as I go along. I have goals for myself, my husband and my children but I don’t have any aggressive strategy. I just try to nudge us towards the outcome. I’m more passive than I thought I would be. I don’t like how I let some people treat me, I hate how easily I can become upset and I long for a life I’m not sure I’ll ever get to live.

I don’t want to ‘celebrate’ my birthday this year. I didn’t want to celebrate it last year either but my mum insisted on Sunday lunch. The double standard is clear to me because I am usually the one coordinating the birthday gatherings. When I tell my family I don’t really want to do anything I think they think I am testing them but I really don’t want to. I prefer to mark it privately. I’d like some time alone to reflect. I’d like to leave my children at home with my husband and take a solitary walk along the beach and just consider my life, my choices and my goals. I’d like to eat a leisurely breakfast at a cafe while watching the ocean. In short, for my birthday, I want some guilt-free time to myself to enjoy the bliss of doing nothing (thanks Eat Pray Love). I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do.

When you have children you can’t ignore your birthday. For them, birthdays are joyous. Birthdays are about cake, balloons and fun. Birthdays are a blast when you are a kid. But they are a blast because I do a  lot of work in the lead up to ensure the fantasy birthday is fulfilled. So is it so shocking that for my birthday I’d like to sit and do nothing?

My friend is turning 30 on my birthday and has planned a huge celebration. I plan to share in her joy, eat her cake, give her an amazing gift and when she blows out her candles I will make som secret birthday wishes for myself. I wish to be better at everything. I wish for my family and friends to be happy and safe. And I wish for that four-slice red toaster my brother is planning to buy me. I didn’t say no gifts!

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi

I love the TV show Offspring on Channel Ten. I am completely obsessed with it. Apparently Season 3 is filming now so I am keeping myself busy by watching it over and over again on YouTube.

I become obsessed with TV shows often. I latch on to them to cheer me up, comfort me and give me a chance to relax admits the chaos of raising my children. I watch episodes so often that they kids have come up with a dance for the opening credits. They also have a dance for Gilmore Girls, The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills and The Big Bang Theory. They don’t know I watch Dexter, The Good Wife and Grey’s Anatomy because they are usually in bed by then.

Offspring is one of the best Australian TV shows I have ever watched. I have always been an Asher Keddie fan since watching Love My Way, mostly because it was filmed in the Eastern Suburbs of Sydney where I was living at the time. It was also an excellent albeit upsetting show. It wasn’t one I watched to be cheered up. But I loved it none the less.

TV shows become such an important part of our lives but while I watch them I am aware that I should probably turn the TV off and create a more interesting life of my own. This was easier before having children. We could always peel ourselves off the lounge and go somewhere but in all honesty my husband and I have always been homebodies, even before kids. When we first moved in together besides eating out frequently our favourite pastime was to hire videos and eat hokey pokey ice-cream.

I wonder if the TV shows we become obsessed with say something about us. I suppose they do. My friend Donna is just as obsessed with Offspring as I however other friends of mine have never watched it, preferring reality TV shows.

I don’t watch TV talent shows anymore. I did watch Australia Idol with Guy Sebastian but after that so many sprung up and I couldn’t keep up. It’s also hard to watch how nasty some of the judges can be. I am so excited Big Brother is coming back on Channel 9. I love watching them go about their day-to-day activities because I never got a chance to live on my own or with roommates. I went straight from my parent’s house to moving in with the man who would become my husband.

Every now and then I make a point of turning the TV off and playing games with the kids. Our favourite at the moment is UNO. But once they go to bed there’s not much else to do so I get to indulge in my guilty pleasure and a pleasure it sure is. My most recent addition to my IQ is Top Chef Just Desserts which I don’t recommend watching at night because it leads to a serious case of the munchies.

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi

I haven’t studied at university for ten years but already I am flashing back to my uni days. Nothing every worked. My computer login, the photocopier, the coffee machine. It was tedious and the paperwork was time consuming. Before even getting to the part where I got to actually learn I had to jump through hoops of enrollment forms, student IDs and library access.

I have received an offer today to complete my Master of Arts in Creative Writing at and already I am in nothing-is-bloody-working uni hell.

Well firstly I didn’t receive an offer so I started email-stalking the course coordinator who responded that she’d accepted me but forgotten to send the necessary paperwork to UAC. That was two weeks ago and I received the formal offer today. It’s a distance course and enrollment is online so I went to the relevant website and tried to log on. My ID is working but not my password. The instructions regarding online enrollment are vague and I am feeling so muddled I’m not sure where to turn next.

Technology is wonderful…when it works. Being able to enroll online is so convenient – except it’s not working. My iPhone is so great – but my WiFi dropped out and it took me ages to connect it again. Our printer is fantastic – but sometimes it gets scrambled and needs to be reset. Our computer is super but it crashes.

My first time at university, I would get so incredibly stressed and upset when technology didn’t work. I was vitriolic in my complaints. It got me nowhere, behaving like that. This time I am trying to stay calm. My email to the ‘help’ service is friendly and I vow to be patient. That is, unless the deadline looms and then I reserve the right to panic.

I am so excited to be getting my Masters because I was so unfocused when I was studying for my Undergraduate degree. I was already working in the job I wanted so completing my course was a struggle but I was so happy I finished it.

Getting my Masters in Creative Writing is a dream because I am home with my children most days and I just need something that will help me to feel like I am making some sort of progress when it comes to me…little old forgotten me. I’m so happy I get to be with my children every day, I am happy they like my cooking, I feel blessed to have such a hardworking husband and I couldn’t be happier. This course is just the little boost I need. And it will be amazing – if I can log in and accept the damn thing.

Breathe…

La Dolce Vita – Jo Abi