On the first of February I was going to throw out Liam’s dummy. I was fully prepared for the tears and the impossible task of trying to settle him at night sans dummy. It was all going to be worth it though. I know the longer I leave it, the harder it’s going to be and yet, he still has it.

To put it bluntly, my son hates going to sleep. From the day he was born he has been an absolute nightmare to settle. We’ve tried all sorts of settling techniques – and they do work for a little while – but then the little bugger wises up to what we’re up to and we’re back at square one. Liam’s dummy is probably the only thing that has consistently proven to be an effective tool to send him off. I don’t really see any issue with using a dummy as a sleeping aid. The reason why I want to wean him (Or force him to go ‘cold turkey’ rather.) is his new-found love of it during waking hours.

What was once an item exclusively reserved for the cot has become a kind of necessity after 6pm. He’ll scream and carry on like he’s had his left arm ripped off until we finally succumb and hand over that little piece of silicone that he seems to covet so much. For the rest of the evening he and his dummy go on little adventures. If it’s not in his mouth, it’s in his hand. The Dummy is never far away. When he has that thing in his mouth all the beautiful babbling, giggles and growls are muffled by plastic and spit. At least he’s happy though, right?

I know there are two schools of thought in regards to dummies. Some people view them as vile things that hinder speech development, cause wonky teeth and are used by parents as a cheap way to shut up whinging children rather than interact with them to find out why they’re fussing. Others don’t see the problem at all. Babies love them, and parents love the silence that comes with them. Some believe they even help prevent Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Apparently the sucking reflex babies have disappeared by six months. Beyond that and the dummy becomes a coping mechanism — like a blankie or favourite teddy. (Wikipedia has an interesting article about dummies that can be found here.)

I don’t really know what to do. Do I enjoy short term satisfaction only to deal with the potential long term consequences later, or do I grow a spine and ditch the thing? I know that after a few days of crying Liam will be over it and have a new friend to adventure with before bed time. I guess in a way it’s also my coping mechanism as well. Perhaps I’ll have the resolve to throw it out next week…

• IVF Budget Cuts – What’s Your Verdict? It appears Rudd will be cutting taxpayer-funded financial aid to those using IVF when he announces his federal Budget on Tuesday – Money Mum
• Breastfeeding Debate Revived After Death of British Mother Is breastfeeding to blame for this tragedy, or the lack of support available for mothers who struggle to ‘get it right’? – news.com.au
• A New Analogy! Breastfeeding = Bloodied Corpses Those opposing new legislation in the wind to protect the rights of mothers and children to breastfeed in public are getting increasingly desperate. – Hoyden About Town
• Dads Don’t Babysit Damn right Dad’s don’t babysit! Its called being a parent – they’re not hired help! – Babble Australia
• Barack, Miley move up; baby names Emma, Jacob rule Names that are most popular right now in the good ol’ US of A – Associated Press
• One Sculpture – a thousand words is CREEPY!!!! Go, look at it now! – Jezebel

I woke up at 6.30am this morning when my husband left for work with some killer tightenings. They’re not insanely painful or anything, but I feel them and that for me is a huge thing (When I went into hospital with threatened pre-term labour I couldn’t feel the contractions, but the CTG showed I was definitely having them!). They’ve been coming on all day, are about 20 minutes apart and last from 30-60 seconds. Now I have a lovely back ache to compliment them.

Instead of running around screaming, “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmyGOD!” and scrambling to cram the last few things into my suitcase and hospital bag, I’ve been calm, level headed and, well, skeptical. My husband and my mum know whats going on, but I’ve told them both not to get too excited. These puppies don’t seem to be getting any stronger or closer so I haven’t even bothered calling the midwives. I’ve already categorised these “things” as another false alarm even though they haven’t gone away after my afternoon nap. I won’t even pick up the phone and query the hospital as to whether I should cruise in or not until I can’t talk through the pain because I just find it so unlikely that anything less than that is labour.

Earlier in the week I think I tried every possible old wives tale to get this labour rolling. I’ve eaten thousands of curries, enjoyed a few romps under the sheets, soaked myself in baths, drank gallons of raspberry leaf tea and have been for long drives on bumpy roads. Nothing. He just isn’t ready to come out yet and its really getting to me! (Before anyone mentions it, yes I know I’m not overdue, or even full term yet..but thanks to diabetes I’ve been fighting an uphill battle to be allowed to go this far, let alone be allowed to go into spontaneous labour!) Add all that effort to the signs that labour is close but is yet to eventuate and you get one cranky, disappointed and agitated pregnant lady.

I’m running out of coping mechanisms and I need your help! If you’ve given birth, please share with me how you made it through the last few weeks! You can leave your stories in the comments, or email me at geraldtonblog@gmail.com. I look forward to your responses

Older women glare at me like I have leprosy, and men are blatantly rude to me. People will block my path even when I’m struggling to control my shopping trolley and I’ve nearly been ran over on crosswalks. I have never been asked if I would like a hand out to the car by the staff at one of the local IGA’s (Which I used to work for, so I know its something they should do); in fact the most help I’ve received is having half of my bagged shopping dropped into the trolley. I come home feeling like there is something wrong with me, like pregnancy is some kind of disease.

Please don’t get me wrong, I most certainly don’t expect to be treated like some princess when I go shopping, it just really gets up me when people will be so nice to me when my husband is visible, but totally rude when he isn’t. I think I’ve figured it out though. I’m treated like shit when my husband isn’t around because I’m being stereotyped. I’m young, I’m heavily pregnant and there isn’t a man in my immediate vicinity. Well, I must be a single mother! Quick, where are the rotten tomatoes?!

What I can’t work out is why there is so much hatred thrown towards young single mothers. A vast majority of people lump them into the dole bludger category. ‘That girl is 16, clearly she got knocked up for the baby bonus and the welfare payments she’ll be entitled to!’ Yes, every single unmarried mother has babies simply for the welfare payments, it has nothing to do with the circumstances or their views on abortion. Oh, and because there is no father in the picture and they’re so young, they’re automatically the worst parent in the world. Just like those heathens who have children out of wedlock!

I’m really over such archaic and backwards opinions. Yes, teen pregnancy isn’t exactly ideal, but these women have chosen to do what they consider to be the right thing. Instead of taking the “easy way out” and terminating, they’re stepping up to the plate for their child. They are sacrificing their education, their career, and even their youth to become mothers. To me, that is admirable. Its sad that they found themselves unexpectedly pregnant, but they’re taking responsibility for their actions. Parenting as a team is hard enough, so I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it would be doing it on your own.

I know that there are some people out there who really do see having babies as a way to get out of work, but its just stupid to believe that every single young woman who is pregnant is a dole bludger. I don’t like being treated like a single mum when I’m in fact happily married and self-sufficient — but it makes me 1,000 angrier that such prejudice exists in the first place. How about we as a society stop being so judgemental and start exercising a little common courtesy, and not just mums-t0-be who have a man in tow.

One commenter suggested that our government is doing this not to force women to stay at home, but rather because most women choose willingly to stay at home.  A vast majority of mothers who I’ve spoken to would love to stay at home, but for most, its just not financially feasible. Others, like myself, still want to contribute not only to the family income, but have a certain sense of pride and self esteem that doesn’t allow them to take welfare easily.

One Mum that I spoke to had a very passionate response which raised many good points:

Hmmmm don’t even get me started on this one babe, this has been a thorn in my side for a number of years, I was a single mum for a long time and had 2 options bludge or work, my pride and sense of self esteem took me back to work and as soon as I did I was no longer eligible for health care cards, max family benefits or any kind of help at all, my child care was still means tested so because I worked I paid more child care whilst people I knew with a menagerie of children to different fathers on the pension got daycare for nix……aaaaggghhhh fuck why do you need discounted daycare if you don’t work and the government is paying for your lifestyle……

My friend decided that she wanted to go back to work and contribute and so was stripped of all the perks that would have made going back to work easier. Yet someone on welfare, who – lets be honest – doesn’t really need cheap childcare gets it for almost nothing.

My previous article never took into account single parents either. These parents most certainly don’t have the luxury of choice when it comes to staying home. Ignoring the rare case of people who deliberately get knocked up to receive government benefits, many single parents (Like couples) simply can’t afford to not go back to work. Not to mention the hideous bias they cop should they stay at home on welfare. Whilst they may be receiving Healthcare Cards and cash payments, is it really enough for a single, independent parent to feed, clothe and house their family and still have money left over to save for their first home?

In today’s society it seems that we don’t want to encourage people to work for a living. Instead of providing people with incentive to be successful, we’re taxing them even more.  Instead of encouraging parents who want to get back into the work force, we’re making it harder and less appealing for them. It’s nice that if a mother (or father, for that matter) wants to stay at home, there are small perks that make it possible for them to achieve this. I just think that parents who decide to return to the workforce are perhaps equally or more deserving of a few perks. Not everyone has a partner who has a salary double that of the average Australian.

Perhaps reading to him from the start won’t make him smarter as such, but research has shown that the earlier babies are exposed to reading, the better they perform in school. Reading to baby also is a great way for family members to bond with bub. Well, awesome! That is more than enough reason for me to read my favourite books to an unresponsive blob! Not only will I be bonding with my little man, but he will be gaining some invaluable skills to help him when he’s older.

I have another, more pressing reason for wanting Liam to be comfortable and familiar with words at a young age though. His father has Dyslexia. My husband is one of the smartest people I know, but he was severely disadvantaged at school.  While I know that Dyslexia is a learning disability that can happen to people of any intelligence level, I’m hoping that by surrounding Liam with words from the start it will help him work through the disability should he be unfortunate enough to inherit it from his father.

According to Wikipedia, there is no cure for Dyslexia, but that doesn’t mean that sufferers are destined  to a life where reading and writing is an impossibility:

There is no cure for dyslexia, but dyslexic individuals can learn to read and write with appropriate education or treatment. There is wide research evidence indicating that specialized phonics instruction can help remediate the reading deficits. The fundamental aim is to make children aware of correspondences between graphemes and phonemes, and to relate these to reading and spelling. It has been found that training, that is also focused towards visual language and orthographic issues, yields longer-lasting gains than mere oral phonological training.

I’ll be honest, I have no freakin’ clue what half that quote means, but it does give me hope that regardless of the outcome, Liam won’t be disadvantaged when he’s old enough to attend school. I imagine that I’ll be spending a lot of time working with him to overcome obstacles that most kids don’t face and that both he and I may want to kill each other (If I fail at keeping it fun or he gets bored), but I really believe its worth it! It may not make him a genius, but it will give him a head start that may be more important than any of us realise.

My Mother in Law thinks differently. I was rushed down to Perth a few weeks ago with Threatened Preterm Labour and my husband asked his sisters if they could look after our cat while we were away. What a mistake that was. My dear Mother in Law saw this as a prime opportunity to rearrange our house to how she thought it should be. The best part was when she did the washing claiming that she was trying to make things easier on me. Except she never washed any of my clothes (So I still needed to do a load anyhow). She did however, take every single item of my husbands back to her house so she could wash and iron it. She even went as far as changing what drawer his undies were in.

This isn’t meant to be a rant about the monster in law; but her obsession with all things ironing must have triggered something in me. Two nights ago I found myself in Liam’s nursery meticulously ironing all of his clothes. Even his singlets. Like I said earlier, I hate ironing. I won’t do it for my husband, and I used to barely do it for myself when I was working, but here I was at some obscene hour of the morning slaving over the ironing board for a person who really isn’t going to notice at all if his pants have a few wrinkles in them!

All I can account this insanity to is the burning sense of pride I feel when I think of Liam. I’m proud that we’ve come this far, and I imagine that this feeling will only intensify when he does decide to arrive. There will be nothing wrong with him in my eyes – he’s going to be the most perfect little human in the entire universe – and I want the rest of the world to think that too. So I suck it up and iron his clothes. When I’m finished and they’re hanging in the closet looking nice and flat, I guess I feel proud of myself too.

Ultimately I don’t think ironed clothes really matter all that much, and I most certainly don’t think that ironing makes you a better Mum! I just need to take one glance at my husbands mother to see that. While she may have ironed everything down to his underwear, she has never been there for him as a mother should be, and if I ever find that ironing Liam’s clothes means that I miss out on spending quality time with him, it’ll be the first thing to go! My pride will never be stronger than my love.

• The High Court Rejects a challenge to the Federal Government’s $900 stimulus payment So we will be getting our “free” money (that isn’t really free) after all. How will you spend it? – news.com.au
• And Deliver Us By Google shows how a Dad to be used a little ingenuity in a time of crisis – Babble Australia
• The World According to Mom is an exciting project which asks mothers from across the world about the five things they love (or don’t love) the most about being a parent – Her Bad Mother
• Woman delayed birth to drink grog is a look at the tragic alcohol abuse that occurs in Halls Creek – The Australian
• Are Working Mothers (And Fathers) Discriminated Against looks at how parents fare in the workplace against their childless rivals – Babble Australia
• 10 Things To Do Before You Become a Parent is a hilarious read about the “luxuries” that you’ll lose once you become a parent – Her Bad Mother

I’ve been unemployed since I got married last December. I was earning a measly $300 per week in a job that I utterly despised and it was really affecting my state of mind. So, we looked at the finances and decided that we could afford living off just the one income. I’ve enjoyed the time off, but I was getting stagnant. I don’t think being a stay at home mum is the right choice for me. I could feel my mind turning to mush and so instead of readying myself mentally for the arrival of my little man, I’ve been throwing myself into projects like this blog or creating websites for friends.

When I read about how Labor are hell-bent on screwing over working mothers I swear I blew a fuse. Why on earth is our government trying to dissuade women from working? Labor’s genius plan is to cut back on what they’ve coined “middle class welfare” and are targeting schemes such as the child care rebates, the baby bonus and the Medicare Safety Net. Combine child care rebate cuts with the plan announced last week that would see childcare costs soar and you begin to see a grim picture.

If this was means tested around the $150,000 mark, which is simply two average professional wages, there would be little incentive for a woman to actually work. Say she earned $60,000 and had two children in full-time daycare of about $80 per day. Without any form of rebate, full time child care for two children would cost $38, 400.  Add to that a tax bill of $12,600 and essentially a woman would be working for the grand sum of $9,000 a year or $173 a week.

Wow. So much for my idea of going back to work to better our financial situation. I would get more if I stayed home and bludged off the Family Tax Benefits. I guess that leaves me juggling a child and a business from home. I could do cash jobs or something I guess. Its like Labor think women should be at home popping out babies and making sure dinner is on the table once their hard working hubby gets home. To hell with that! Someone really needs to tell Mr Rudd that the year is 2009 and not 1960.

(For the record, I have no issue with those who choose to stay at home with their children. My inner feminist just gets so MAD when women are undervalued in the workplace simply because we have a uterus. Rant over.)

When my husband and I decided on the name Liam* we never really looked into what it meant. In fact, we settled with the name Liam for a variety of other reasons. Firstly, you can’t really abbreviate it to anything. So many names that we picked out would shorten to something terrible, and its in our culture for people to shorten your name.

Then there was the wierd factor. Whilst….unique names like Bronx Mowlgi Wentz or Adolf Hitler Campbell might seem like a great idea at the time, do the parents of these children actually think about how such absurd, or downright offensive names will affect their children? I would hate to think that the name that I chose for little Liam would result in him being the butt of everyones jokes. What if our choice of names for our son even resulted in him being handicapped in the workforce in later life? If his name is a joke, perhaps a potential employer will think his resume is a joke too. Or, in the case of little Adolf and his unfortunately named siblings, what if our choice of names gets him removed from our care entirely?

Obviously these are extreme cases, but you can never really predict how people will react to a name. We like to think that the name Liam is, well, boring enough to escape such critisisms, but unique enough that there aren’t 1,000 other Liams enrolled at the same school as him. What it really comes down to is this: we chose the name Liam because it somehow feels right. I can’t explain it, but it just seems to fit!

Now we have the joys of coming up with a middle name and thats opened up a whole other can of worms. We have pressure from both sides of the family to continue their traditions. Name him after your grandfather, give him the same middle name as his father, give him the name of such-and-such who you have never even met. We tried to take their well meaning advice, but we just cannot agree on a middle name. A name of a positive person in my husbands life will have a negative meaning in my families life, or the name simply just doesn’t fit. I think its safe to say that picking a middle name for our little man is harder than picking his first name!

So, its back to the drawing board. We’ve decided that for Liam’s middle name we’ll pick something thats both meaningful to us and to him. He’s a little fighter and so we’re searching for the perfect name that reflects just that. There are thousands of names out there, and the one that is perfect for our little man is out there somewhere. We just need to find it!

*Liam is Irish for determined guardian.