Let the sunshine in...into the dragon's cave

Woke this morning after a crazy teething night. Can't tell you what happened at what hour because it's all a mad blur. All I do know is we emerged from the cave at around 5.50am to start the day. Despite rising 2 1/2 hours before leaving the house, it was still a mad rush to get out on time for school/ work. When I returned to it at 2pm, it looked like someone had broken in and wrecked the place searching for something of value.
Any way, back to 5.50am. When I finished breastfeeding and dragged myself out of bed I left the girls and Bob in bed and went upstairs hoping to find 10 minutes of peace and quiet before the turning on the treadmill of the school day rush.
I stepped onto the verandah and immediately fell into the cosy warmth of the sun. I'd grabbed my yoga mat on the way with the intention of ironing out some of the breastfeeding creases from the night before.
With my first breath and stretch I started the usual self-talk: 'Better make the most of these few minutes because you've got a 15 hour day ahead of you before Robert's back home and, frankly, I don't know how the hell you'll make it through!'
I could feel the dragon emerging (the dragony fire-breathing bitch of sleep deprivation). Only this time I stopped it in its tracks. I turned to the sun, soaked in its light and beautiful warmth and breathed in the possibility of a new day.
'No matter how exhausted I feel today, I accept whatever the day chooses to give to me. And I'll be grateful for it.' I almost instantly felt my shoulders loosen and my back iron out. I felt freed from the burden of exhaustion and decided then and there that, despite the plans I had for the day, if the opportunity presented itself, I'd lay down and rest. It did and I did. Amy and I mamanged a short nap together in the afternoon.
We left the house an absolute mess that morning and for the first time in a long time, I didn't take ownership of it. At 5pm it still looked that way and all that mattered was that we were all fed and watered and loved.
Besides. mufti day tomorrow and I'd rather spend the evening having fun helping Lily organise her outfit than stress about the mess we'll be stepping over.

The dragon sleeps another day...

Lyndal

Postnatal expression

My baby girl Amy has just turned seven months. She's a happy healthy girl, growing in leaps and bounds. First time around (Lily, now nearly aged 7), I returned to full-time work early and didn't take time out to join a mother's group or enjoy any me-time activities.
In the early months after Amy's arrival, there was many a day and week when I felt I was drowning in depression. Despite being a second time mum, I felt hopeless, helpless. My partner, Robert, spent 4 hours a day commuting, so it was quite normal for me to do a 14 - 18 hour day as a single parent.
I knew what (PND) signs to look for. I knew my pregnancy panic attacks might make me more susceptible. And I had all the local community help/ support information at hand. For some reason, though, I fought to keep my own head above water and lean on Robert for help.
But when the door opened for me to join a mother's group with a creative twist I jumped at it. Held at the local community centre, the fortnightly gatherings involved 2 1/2 hrs of open discussion and a some form of simple creative expression, such as collage or painting (all for $6!). Just days after my first attendance, I received a call from a local potter running classes just two streets from my house. I had enquired six months earlier and she was following up to offer me a class spot. I jumped at that too.
It's been three months since I started and I truly believe both classes have been life saving. It's breathed new life into my writing (my book), and given me vital time to freely explore and express a whole other side of myself. The benefits of taking regular time out for me and focusing on simple, positive and creative stuff has been incredible.
And it's got me wondering...what are other mums getting from creative projects that are keeping their heads above water? Can creative expression reduce post natal depression?
Lyndal

How to tame your dragon

I recently had a three week stint of my 6 month old waking 5-6 times a night. And let me tell you, with just a few hours of broken sleep under my belt I was nothing short of a fire-breathing dragony bitch!!!
Every person I spke to about this - including my trusted psychologist - ensures me sleep deprivation is nothing short of torture and that any bitchiness is completely understandable. It wasn't just my shrinking other half who copped it, and my beautiful girls: basically anything and everything in my path. It was off-road road rage. I hated all pens that didn't work, all batteries that dared flatten in my presence, weather that changed, birds that sang too loudly!
I was sleeping in my baby girl's room in order to keep an eye (and both ears) on her. The idea was that I'd pat her peacefully back to sleep through the night and avoid the frequent (teething) waking episodes of the previous few weeks. The results were disastrous. I woke with every grunt, squirm and wimper and spent more time smothering than mothering.
After four nights in a row of this and four very ugly, dragony mornings, I decided to focus on ME and MY SLEEP. I moved back into my room, pulled out my favourite pre bed meditation CDs and put in my favourite earplugs at around 8.30pm. She slept beautifully, as did I. ..for four nights running.
So, I stopped breathing fire and started singing Justine Clark's (PlaySchool fame) 'I'm a Happy Dog!' at the breakfast table while bouncing on my exercise ball between mouthfuls of bub's breakfast. The sun was out again, the mum-storm had passed.
But it all got me thinking. Early nights and pre-bed meditations can make the world of difference. But the fact is, Amy's only 7 months and I have alot of teeth, tantrums and long nights ahead of me. Am I too old for all this? Tough titties...I need to tackle the fire breathing dragon in me head-on. Did I lose all my patience with bub number 1? Again, tough titties!
Even if my mum friends and psychologist think it's completely justified and understandable, doesn't mean I'm happy about it, or that I think it's OK that my daughter's just confessed to me her ONE biggest wish would be that daddy and I weren't cranky ever again. (Just a week off would probably keep her happy).
So, I've decided to do what I can to 'tame the dragon' in me, find a way to deal with the motherload of babydom and sleep deprivation. I'm searching for answers, for a smoother road...I'll let you know what I find along the way.

Lyndal

How my book came about...

MotherLoad to MotherLove: How my book came about

I began writing MotherLoad to MotherLove in 2007 as a mother of one (Lily). The book was first conceived in the form of a series of articles I was publishing on a relatively unknown mother’s website. Exhausted, overwhelmed and desperately seeking a connection with other mums, I did what I know best to do: I wrote about it.

When I looked back at these first articles in late 2008 and began turning these into chapters I realised my writing – although highly amusing (to me anyway) – was far from truthful. I had been writing for an audience, (a habit I’d found hard to shake with my background in Public Relations and corporate writing). Then, I did something really silly:.I asked the universe for inspiration, for something deeper and more real in my writing, something worth sharing.

Be careful what you ask for. In January 2009 the universe sent me a full-on breakdown and a pregnancy complete with regular and severe panic attacks. As frightening as the first half of 2009 was, the breakdown proved to be the breakthrough I needed to get raw and real. It shattered my shell and broke me open to a whole new way of writing and living.

Of course I didn’t know that at the time and spent the next few months off the keyboard, licking my wounds and preparing to be a mum again. On September 21, 2009, along came our beautiful Amy. Her sister Lily was thrilled, as were we. As far as I was concerned, my new busy life as a mother of two meant the book would have to be ‘shelved’ for a while, atleast until I could surface from the sea of sleep deprivation.

But the universe had other plans. Through the exhaustion and the tantrums (mine), the book kept tapping me on the shoulder and sending me to the keyboard. The more exhausted, frustrated and overwhelmed I felt with my newfound load, the more my I was drawn to write about it – the truth – through the wee hours of the morning.

The rawer my writing became, the faster it flowed, and the less editing I did. This book is my attempt to lighten my own load of motherhood – the guilt, the burden, the frustration – and to find a way not just to endure but to enjoy this journey.

I wanted to find less time yelling and resenting, more time loving and laughing in my life. I wanted to fins some way to be less sleep deprived and more energized. Most importantly, I wanted to find a way to end the struggles of my everyday life and ‘go with the flow’, no matter how exhausted I felt. (Quite a challenge for a self-confessed control freak!)

The therapeutic effects of writing this book have been incredible. I feel as though I shedded my old skin through these chapters. And I have no doubt it was my own authentic form of post-natal expression that kept my head above water in those emotionally and hormonally charged first months of motherhood.

What I discovered early on in this writing journey was that there was only one way to lighten the ‘MotherLoad’ I was carrying: to journey towards my own truth. The truth really was the only way to set myself free, to find love and liberation.

This is my story...

Surrender the night

I finally conceded defeat and surrendered to the fact that life with a six month old is exhausting. She's feeding like a beast and growing like a beanstalk. And for that I should be grateful. However, it does mean her appetite and emerging first teeth have had her up and searching for booby many times through the night. I've been an agly sight in the mornings, rising like a fire breathing dragony bitch (good for no-one in my house). So, I've booked us in for Tresillian (sleep school).
In the meantime, I've made a few changes to my own routine (the one I can control). I'm going to bed just after the kids. I'm using my meditation CDs again. And I'm wearing my earplugs so I only wake to her cries (not every little sound she makes).
Funnily enough, since starting my new outine these past few days she's sleeping better and only woken for a couple of feeds through the night. Although going to bed by 8/ 8.30 might be a bit bloody boring, it means that I can get a few hours under my belt (as she alwayas seems to sleep best before midnight). Things are on the improve (touch wood).

Lyndal

;0)

Sleepless in Sydney...

I've surfaced from the sea of sleep deprivation in an attempt to reach out to cybermums out there, wherever you are... I'm in the middle of teething (6 1/2 month old) and tantrums (mine). I've seen a little too much of the green one-eyed monster of sleep deprivation lately and have decided to surface from the madness ocassionally and write about my travels.
I'm currently writing my first book - on motherhood - called MotherLoad to MotherLove - and wanted to share the writing journey with others. I once dreampt of being a travel writer, and - let's face it - those no greater more challenging, colourful 'trip' than motherhood. Tears, tantrums, laughter, heartache, headaches, crap, exhileration, exhaustion...
Thought I'd use this blog space to share some of my thoughts... Hoping to hear yours as well!
Happy travels, Lyndal