I am. But are you?

Today is RU OK? Day. It's a day about connections and the difference that they can make to a person who's struggling. It's about taking the time to ask, to really ask, someone if they are OK, and to be prepared to hear the answer properly, to supportively listen.

I am one of the fortunate ones. Even though I'm recovering from flu, even though I'm still battling a kidney infection, even though I have toddler tantrums and money worries and a hideously overgrown garden and a filthy house and fractious older kids to deal with, I also have no black dog on my back making it all unbearable. I get sad, mad and dangerous sometimes, life stresses me out and I crack open for a while, but it passes quickly, lightly, ultimately harmlessly. This is because I am not now depressed.

I have been in that place, though. My postpartum struggles after my first and third babies were never diagnosed, probably because I'm really good at masking (I suspect a lot of us are), but the bottom line was, for months after A was born and again after C was born, I was most certainly not OK. And I was sobbing inside for someone to ask me, to really ask me, and to give me permission to open the door to that pain.

Today I asked someone close to me if they were OK. For the first time, with tears in their eyes, this person admitted that they are not. I think it was a relief to them to speak this truth aloud.

So small a question to contain so great a thing. Ask it today.

Things I Know

Today I know that I hate it when my kids are sick and suffering.

I know that when a doctor drops the phrase "glandular fever" into the mix when examining your 2 year old, your heart will turn flipflops.

I know that I worry more than I should, and that I probably lose my nerve too quickly, rushing to doctors and hospitals when bedrest is what's actually indicated.

I know, though, that I'd never forgive myself if I under-reacted, and that led to my child getting a lot sicker.

I know that when I woke this morning with a agonising cough and fever of 39.5, and ascertained that I have not one but TWO very sick kids to care for, I regretted hubs taking a Carer's Day yesterday, because, workplaces being what they are, this made it impossible for him to take another today.

I know that I am upset with myself for making questionable decisions all down the line this week, resulting in my kids probably being sicker than they needed to be, and maybe exposing other children to their lurgies.

I know that I need to get better at making the hard calls, even if it makes my children or my occasional employers unhappy sometimes. The fact that the kids wanted to go to school swimming shouldn't have outweighed my feeling that they weren't well enough to; that the fact that the big kids wanted to go to gymnastics training shouldn't have been allowed to gazump the todler's obvious need to be home in the warm; the fact that I was scheduled to work on Wednesday shouldn't have overriden my uncertainty about whether the toddler was well enough for creche.

I know that I feel like crap, and like a crap parent.

I know that my toddler and 8 year old feel awful too, and that's almost harder to bear.

For more things that people know, head over to Yay for Home!

Winner: Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Super Silly Adventures DVD

The only entrant and WINNER is Megs! Onya, lady ;-)

Let me know an address via gmail and I'll get the prize sent out to you.

Reading Notes - Zoe and Beans: The Magic Hoop!

Disclosure: I received a complimentary copy of this book for review purposes courtesy of Pan Macmillan Australia. No financial payment was offered nor accepted for this post. All opinions expressed are purely my own.

Chloe and Mick Inkpen's new picture book in the Zoe and Beans series arrived in our letterbox last week, and it was an instant hit with the toddler, charming her out of an overtired strop almost instantaneously. (I could stop this review *right there* and parents of toddlers would still be motivated to buy it ;-)

We'd come in the door from shopping, C in full cranky mode, me balancing parcels and muddy shoes and plastic bags. As soon as I'd thrown the cold & frozen groceries into their places, I sat C down as we opened the Pan Macmillan parcel, talking it up as I did so. "Look, C! It's a BOOK! A NEW BOOK! For you!"

C, who loves books generally, at first was not having a bar of it. "NOOOOO! I wan' to run around!" But as she caught sight of the appealing cover, with its soft-edged, pastel look, she became interested, and came to sit down with me and listen.

This is our first experience with Zoe and Beans, and we were both charmed. The text is simple enough to engage a toddler but genuinely funny enough to be enjoyable for older children and adults (my 8 year old is particularly tickled by the tiny rabbit poos - so much easier to clean up than doggy poos!)

It's a straightforward tale - Zoe finds a magic hoop, and induces her dog Beans to jump through it by dint of throwing his favorite treat (Choccy Bears) on the other side. The hoop has transformative qualities, as Zoe and Beans quickly discover. The appeal lies in the beautiful artwork and gentle humour - not that I would have expected less of a Mick Inkpen book of Wibbly Pig fame - and in the building to a conclusion that all good children's picture books must accomplish if they are to become regular reads.

This book has been on more-than-daily rotation ever since it arrived, and I've already got the forthcoming Christmas title in the series, Zoe's Christmas List, on my radar as a new holiday title for C. I highly recommend it for children over 2.

Sibling rivalry resolved: A picture book

My 6 year old was set the task of writing a short story in school last week. She decided to go with a thinly-veiled autobiographical them, writing about two sisters called Lilly and A (actually, not A - her sister's real name) who are not getting along so well. It starts off promisingly:


Text: Once upon a time in a little house lived two little girls. There (sic) house was in the woods. One of them was Lilly, the other was A.

Happy faces!



Soon, the story becomes darker and conflictual:


Text: One day they had a fight. A said "You are dumb". Lilly said "No you are".

Sad faces!


But it's all OK, because there's one page left to resolve it:


Text: Mum said "Stop it" and they lived happily ever after. The end.

If only it worked like that in reality :-)

(NB: I asked E's permission to post this story and she gave it enthusiastically).