Disco Knitter

We’re back from Pearl Beach, and slowly getting into the swing of things.

Inigo screamed from 1am till 4am this morning, with a nap of about 1 hour in between.

This made me retch. And not in a good way.

Go read it - but make sure your sound is turned off.

I’ll leave it to those more eloquent than me to count the ways this attitude makes me want to pluck out my eyeballs and curse.

This morning we picked up our new baby carrier, and used it a few times to great effect. Including a trip to Bronte Beach for a special birthday picnic!

Twenty years ago today I was working in my second ever job, as a tape operator at Channel 9 Sydney. Part of my job was to record satellite feeds from overseas, usually sporting events or breaking news.

I don’t remember what time it was, but I remember that I was distracted just after the feed started, so it took a while before I was able to get back to the machine and quality check the signal, and what I saw was the stuff of nightmares. The cameraman (I’m guessing it was a man, it was the eighties!) had time to walk from the vehicle into the centre of the disaster area, and was surrounded by the smouldering wreckage of a few hundred lives. I can’t think what he thought he was recording, or why, but I saw panoramas and close-ups of things that nobody should have to look at.

And I couldn’t look away. mostly because I was in shock, but also because I was young, and I didn’t yet have the strength to stand up for myself. It was my job, so I did it.

And I didn’t think it affected me. I didn’t complain about the nightmares, I blithely carried on, and ignored my involuntary flinches when I saw an aeroplane overhead.

Until the next time I got on a plane, I thought I was fine. I felt a vague sense of unease as I stowed my hand luggage in the overhead compartment, I was a little shaky as I fastened my seatbelt. But when the plane began to move I clutched the arm of the man in the seat next to me, and clung on for dear life until the plane had levelled off. Only then was I able to explain, and apologise (profusely), that I had never been afraid of flying before, that I had flown regularly since I was a little kid, that I had sometimes thrown up, but never been so terrified that I molested complete strangers.

So now I try to fly with friends and loved ones, people who hold my hand and understand that you can’t control that sort of blind terror, and that I have my reasons.

Hard to believe that it was two decades ago, and I’ve never looked at a plane the same way since.

Pan Am Flight 103, Lockerbie

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Last week, Kris was surprised to hear that I’ve had so many jobs that I know my tax file number by heart. Here are a few snippets of what I remember from 9.

The job went around the clock, and the shifts were from midnight till 7am, 7am till 3.30pm, 3.30pm till midnight. The work room was a long corridor with VHS, Beta, 3/4″ and 2″ tape machines lining the walls. There were over 50 monitors, and I had to know what was going on on each of them. To this day I like to read a book with the radio and the TV on at the same time.

We recorded what was going to air so that there was a constant record - sometimes we were asked to prove that a certain commercial went to air at a certain time. Sometimes we would be asked to compile snippets of library tape for an editor - once I spent an entire shift dubbing truck smashes from the Hume Highway. Of course, this was footage taken at the scene, raw, unedited for broadcast, so we got all the gory detail. Ask me why I hate driving the Hume! We would record live programming, often so that the presenters could review the show after it aired. Every night we recorded a few copies of “Coast to Coast with Graham Kennedy”, and usually I would drop the tape at reception for him. If it was a busy night, and I couldn’t get to reception, his makeup artist would pick it up. And often, the co-host, John Mangos would collect it. Twenty years later, I still remember how alarmingly smooth and charming he is. If you ever get a chance to chat with him, you’ll know what I mean.

During down time I would wander down to the studios and help heave sets around. I made friends with the studio crew from MTV and used to go out partying with them after the show. It was Sydney in the ’80’s, but it felt like New York …

Yay Ella!

Don’t you think every kid should have such an appreciative audience for their big milestones?

Inigo is still enthusiastically cruising furniture, but not standing alone for more than a few seconds. I think cousin Ella will be way ahead of him for quite a while

ATTENTION:

THIS IS THE ONLY WAY I COULD CONTACT YOU,MY TEAMS HAS BEEN PAID TO
ASSASSINATE YOU, I NEVER KNEW THE TARGET WAS YOU TILL AFTER THE
PAYMENT AND THE DESCRIPTIONS,I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST YOU BECAUSE YOU
ARE A GOOD PERSON ACCORDING TO WHAT I SAW DURING OUR INVESTIGATION, DO NOT BOTHER KNOWING WHO I AM OR WHY AM HELPING YOU FOR I WILL LET YOU KNOW AT THE RIGHT TIME, BUT YOU CAN CALL ME MAMOOD ALI.

ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS AND KEEP THIS TO YOURSELF OR ELSE HE WILL FIND OUT THAT I HAVE BETRAYED HIM AND MIGHT FIND AN ALTERNATIVE MEANS TO GET AT YOU. I WILL PROVIDE YOU WITH HIS IDENTITY AND OTHER INFORMATION YOU NEED TO GET HIM ARRESTED BUT BEFORE THEN, YOU ARE REQUIRED TO MAKE A MANDATORY PAYMENT WHICH YOU HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU CAN PAY FOR COMMITMENT THAT YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BETRAY ME AND I NEED IT ALSO TO SETTLE THE BOYS WITH IT SO THAT THEY CAN STAY OFF YOUR BACK,AFTER WHICH I WILL TAKE UP THE ISSUE PERSONALLY FROM THERE.

THE TEAM ALWAYS TAPE-RECORD THE CONTRACT CONVERSATION WE HAVE WITH ANY EMPLOYER IN CASE IF HE TRIES TO BETRAY US IN FUTURE ,RIGHT NOW AM TRYING TO MAKE A COPY OF THE VIDEO TAPE THAT CONTAINS OUR DISCUSSION WITH HIM SO I CAN SEND IT TO YOU AS AN EVIDENCE FOR YOU TO NAIL HIM.

ALWAYS KNOW THAT AM BY YOUR SIDE UNLESS YOU GIVE ME A REASON NOT TO,AM DOING YOU THESE FAVOUR BECAUSE OF THE KIND PERSON YOU ARE.

WORD OF ADVICE,ALWAYS ENDEVOUR TO BE GOOD TO PEOPLE.
MIND YOU THIS IS NOT A MATTER FOR THE POLICE,SO DO NOT INFORM THEM
BECAUSE IF YOU DO,I WILL BACK OFF AND YOU WILL NEVER FIND OUT WHOM
YOUR TERROR REALLY IS,THEN YOU WILL ALWAYS LIVE IN FEAR OF THE
UNKNOWN.

GET BACK TO ME ASAP IF YOU REALLY NEED MY HELP.
MIND YOU,TIME IS OF ESSENCE
GOOD LUCK.

Yesterday, Bev & Ted took Inigo to a Climate Change protest, while Emily and I had knitty adventures involving much sangria, Kris, and a few notable cameos.

Inigo wore his first ever shoes.

Picture courtesy of Grandma.

More protest pictures to come when Grandpa gets around to it.

This is what we picked in just one day. Small naked child included for size comparison. We planted the scarlet runner beans last year so the chickens could have some shade in the hot summer months. These are also called seven year beans, because they die back in winter and come again for years and years. The harvest this year has been amazing, and it looks like we’ll be able to keep picking for some time to come.

It’s a good thing we like beans!

My gorgeous sister in law, Kerry, has been working in Timor for a few months - organising a women’s conference for next year, for the Alola Foundation. While she’s been there, she’s been educating me about the day to day reality of life for women in East Timor.

The Alola Foundation works hard to end domestic violence, to improve maternal and child health, to boost educational outcomes for children, and to educate and support women to support themselves and their families.

East Timor has one of the highest mortality rates for women in childbirth anywhere in the world. Because of Portugese colonisation it’s a predominantly Catholic country, so birth control is practically unavailable. Timorese women have very high fertility, averaging ten pregnancies over a lifetime.

Although Timor has very high rates of breastfeeding, a comparatively low percentage of babies are exclusively breastfed until 6 months of age, and up to 2 years of age as per World Health Organisation Guidelines. Poor feeding practices contribute to high infant mortality.

Children in East Timor speak Tetun, the native language, and usually Bahasa Indonesia. Portuguese is the official national language that they will learn in school, and many also will learn some English. Kerry told me about a pre-school that she visited that has over 80 students in a house about the size of a small car.

If you have kids, and have some old books that they have grown out of, please consider donating them to this little school. Kerry will be in Australia for Christmas, and will be able to take some books back with her in January.

Because English is the 4th language for these kids, picture books with no words, or only a single word are useful. Books in reasonable condition would be appreciated, as they are going to be loved by a great many children. New books would also be appreciated.

And if you can’t send books, please consider making a donation here, to help women you will never meet lead a richer life.

Leave a comment and I will email you details of where to post the books, or I can arrange to collect them from you if you live in Sydney.

Please cross post and spread the word!

Here is a video of some European Brown Hares having a stoush. Perhaps I am biased, but I think these guys are scary beautiful, and just amazing to watch.

Andrew and Inigo share a quiet moment before the festivities begin. Note “The Force is Strong in This One” t-shit - thanks Pru!

Everyone seemed to enjoy the pass the parcel - Leigh was one of the few “grown ups” to wear her ‘mo all day. You rock Leigh!

Nanna shows Inigo how to use maracas. I did finally get his birthday outfit made, though I was up until 1.30am the night before, it was totally worth it!

Inigo and his two cousins had a ball. And a maraca.

Or three.

Emmi gets in on the act. Emmi is my cousin Katie’s baby, she is about 2 moths older than Inigo.

Simone and the amazing moustache cake she made. White chocolate with chocolate icing. We got the leftovers, and if I lose any weight this week, it will be a miracle.

The Grandpa and Grandad show.

Some people didn’t need falsies!

And some had all the attitude without the facial hair.

Oscar had definite opinions about where the moustache should be worn.

Inigo savours his first ever taste of cake. There were smiles after the flavour was carefully considered.

Ella had her first cake too - she pretty quickly decided that cake was good.

Inigo meets Rex for the first time. Every kid should have a Tyrannosaurus Rex in a Cowboy outfit, don’t you think?

Oscar helps Inigo check out the loot.

Patrick is possessed by a cricketer from 1970.

The most appropriate gift ever? Thanks to Simone!

One year ago, I was scared - worried about the birth. I had no concept of anything beyond the beautiful drug free birth I was going to have, I had no capacity to think beyond what was happening in that moment.
And in retrospect, that was probably a good thing. From his traumatic birth, his early health complications, breastfeeding issues, mystery lack of weight gain, my fight for a diagnosis, rapid recovery and transformation into a cheery, clever, beautiful and inquisitive little boy, it’s been a wild year.
Before his birth, my greatest fear was that he would be an unsettled baby, that he wouldn’t sleep, and that I wouldn’t cope. Of course, the reality has been much worse than I could have ever imagined, but I’ve been amazed at how well I’ve coped. Due in part to loving him more than I thought was possible, but mostly due to the love and support I have received from all of you here.
I won’t bang on forever, but I would like to acknowledge some special people who’ve been instrumental in getting me through the last year, and have made today such a great celebration.
First, I’d like to thank Bronwen and Peter, my parents for being fantastic grandparents, ready to drop everything to help out when I was feeling wobbly. For letting us have the party at this wonderful house, which is so full of memories for me. I wish George could be here to see his great grandson (and namesake) turn one, but it is fitting that we should celebrate in his home. To dad for his special “Old Farts Daycare” service, and mum for her organisation and superb desserts. Without them this party would never have happened.
To Bev and Ted, I’d like to say thank you for being the most amazing in-laws ever. Inigo is supremely lucky to have four grandparents who adore him and I can’t believe how lucky I am to have married into such a wonderful family.
Mark, my adorable husband. We both knew that the bald tyrant would change our lives forever, and I am so proud of what a great dad you are, while still being the worlds best husband. I love you, and I am sorry I’ve been such a grumpy cow.
Simone and Andrew, one half of Inigo’s Fairly Odd Parents. While we don’t see them as much as we would like, I know that they will always be there when I need to be told to “buck up you sad cow, nobody likes a whinger”. Andrew made the amazing sign that beckoned us in from the road, and Simone is responsible for the most superb confectionery mustache I have ever laid eyes on. Of course, it’s the only one, but it is superb!
Miriam and Richard - also odd parents, but perhaps a little less odd. Miriam has been the best pregnancy and baby buddy I could hope for. Having the support of such a great friend who was going through the same things at the same time was invaluable - and I only hope I have been slightly helpful to her too. Oscar was born four days before Inigo, and I hope that they stay friends for a long time to come.
Thank you everyone for traveling such a long way to be here today. You’ve all made an important difference in our lives, and I hope that you have a great time celebrating with us.

I saw this video a few days ago, and it’s still haunting me.

Whether you are pro choice or not - you have to agree that there are some disturbing consequences of these laws. These things could happen in Australia if Fred Nile and his mates get their way - and anywhere that women don’t own the fight for equal rights.

Feminist is not a dirty word.

Just got home from our weekend of parties, too tired to even look at the camera - so here are some preliminary (and gorgeous) pics from our darling Fiona.

I haven’t turned on the news this morning, but the world seems a very scary place right now.

Yesterday Emily, Clare, Mark and I were having dinner discussing threat and danger, and how threat perception becomes a different thing when you are a parent, our protective instincts drive us to irrational thoughts and sometimes actions. Now that the media brings the rest of the world into our living rooms, it becomes harder and harder to dismiss threats, real or imagined, when most of us can recall an incident of something nasty happening somewhere around the world. It is VERY unlikely that a child will be abducted from the streets, and very few of us will actually know a family that this has happened to - and yet we all fear it.

Luckily, no-one we know is stuck in Mumbai or Bangkok, and I hope all the people that were involved in the horror smash we saw on the Harbour Bridge last night are safe and recovering well.

And I hope that despite all the trauma in the world, we can continue to embrace the joy and love, rather than the fear and hatred.

One more day of racing around preparing for the infant birthday of the century (for me at least!), and I’ll be very glad to relax and celebrate a year of life with Inigo.

OK, this happened weeks ago, but hey, I’ve been busy.

Everybody looked awesome, but these two would have got my vote if there was a competition.

Jemima and Big Ted

The Wicked Witch of the Westie, Nearly Headless Nick


The Absinthe Fairy

Bristol Palin & Levi Johnson

Miss Helen


The food was AWESOME. Must remember to get the baked beans recipe from Kris.


Brains!

According to a new study, referred to in this Washington Post article, breastfeeding has a positive influence on children’s behaviour, and it could be cumulative.

I know a few kids that were “full term” breast-fed that could challenge that theory - but maybe they might have been worse on formula
And in other news, I also found an article that talks about PTSD in women after a traumatic birth experience.

I’m clearly doing much better now, but I think that PTSD (or something similar) is a much more fitting way of describing how I’ve been feeling for most of the last year than PND.

A dear friend had her 6 week checkup (something every woman has with a GP, 6 weeks after birth), and when her doctor asked how she felt, she said “it was awful, and I feel traumatised”. The doctor said “hmm”, and carried on with the exam. Take that sentence, and say it to a doctor in any other context, and I’d be stunned if there wasn’t some sort of medical follow up, at the very least a suggestion that the patient might want to talk to a mental health professional. But this doctor didn’t, maybe because it’s expected that women will be traumatised by their birth experience.

And that’s not OK. I wish I knew what to do about it.

Good day today - Aqua-aerobics, kid had 2 good sleeps, got through some tough challenges on the wii fit. I even got a few loads of washing done.

I should have known I was asking for trouble when I tried to get some gardening done too.

Inigo was in his cage, I was killing grass in preparation for planting some parsley, when I noticed that he had a rock in his mouth.

I raced over, threw off my gardening gloves, and reached out to him, just as he toppled over backwards. I picked him up, prised open his mouth, and found nothing.

The little blighter had swallowed it.

I’ve spoken to my GP, apparently any nasty side effects should be fairly obvious, so if he’s in pain, or spewing (more than usual), we’re off to hospital. Otherwise, a trip to the GP tomorrow for an x-ray referral and check up.

Please keep everything crossed that I make it to Saturday.

What a week!

Ages ago, the lovely Emily gave us some tickets to A View of Concrete at the Belvoir St Theatre, because she and Clare were heading back to Old Blighty for a week of thrills and spills (or words to that effect). We asked my parents to sit on the kid for a few hours, and life was good.

And then on Monday, Kate rang to ask if we’d like tickets to another show on Friday. Is the space pope reptilian? Of course we would! Bev & Ted took the kid for round 2, who was apparently quite charming.

Both shows were great, but A Dissapearing Number was probably the best live theatre I have ever seen. Technical whizzbangery, great performances, a compelling, profound, and human story, and sublime music by Nitin Sawhney.

We’ve been so inspired that we’ve booked tickets to Rabbit for next year. Cheap ones, but hey…

Best caption wins a little something from the stash.

Andrew the Fairly Odd Mother bought this for Inigo a few weeks ago, and I finally got a picture of him in it. Lucky I did - about 30 minutes later it was drenched in my morning coffee, I had a lapse of concentration due to missing my morning coffee