Home is a mum

I have been very lucky in my life. I have been lucky that I was born into a family who knew how to look after me, who made me feel safe and valued. I was lucky to have a dad who believed in me, no matter what. I was lucky to have a mum who made me feel secure in who I was. 

In this process of waiting to become a mum myself (more on this soon) I have had a fantastic ally in my mother. When we mentioned adoption to her, a few years back, she was enthusiastic and supportive from day 1. It was what I needed to hear. 

What I start to realise more and more is that my mum is already a grandma. She loves these kids already, she has their pictures in her wallet and all over her house. 

One evening, not long ago, I went to see her. She was sitting by the fire, knitting. "It's for him," she said to me. It was a little blanket. It now sits finished on her sofa. 

I mentioned to my mum how I was looking for a black doll for her, but that I hadn't found one that I liked enough. Here is what I found some days later...

Complete with bracelet and baby brother! 

10 things I love about not having kids (yet)

I would never have been able to write this two or three years ago. As some you may know, through direct experience or otherwise, involuntary childlessness sucks! It can suck the life of you and your marriage and it is definitely the bed-fellow of depression...

For one reason or another, however, people tend to keep reminding you how happy you should be that you don't have kids. Remember now that I am surrounded by children (I am a teacher...) on a daily basis and it seems that parents like nothing more than tell you, at every opportunity just how lucky you are not to have kids. In times like those, while being told for the millionth time quite how lucky I am not to have the one thing that I would give my left arm to get, in times like those it is tough to be grateful. 

I am in a different place now, though. If all goes well (and believe you me, I frett a lot about that too) parenthood for D and me is not far. The little three letter word in my title, the 'yet' makes all the difference. In fact, it has only been since getting confirmation of our match that I have started to enjoy being childless... I have started looking at life in a different light, knowing (hopefully) that I will not have to be the crazy dog lady, when I am 60 (because between you and me, I was getting scarily close to it with four dogs...)

So without further ado here are the ten things that I love about not having kids (yet) and that I will dearly miss once our kids are here:

1. One on one time with my husband

Definitely top of the list. I love spending time with D, I always have and in the seven years we have been together there's been no change to just how much I enjoy his company! He is great to hang out with and, for sure, I will miss just being the two of us! (For more on my lovely husband look here)

2. Time with my dogs

Again, I love spending time with our four pooches. They are lovely and one of the reasons why I hate working so many hours is that I don't get quite enough time to play, lie around, walk and simply spend time with them every day. Weekends, however, are at the moment quite a good time to go for long walks, or lie in front of the fire with them... I will miss that! (Not that we are getting rid of them, of course, but I do envisage a period of readjustment... Any advice on this very welcome!)

3. Running

I love running. I go out several times a week (either very early in the morning or late at night). I love the freedom I feel on the road, or more often the mountain. I love planning, preparing and taking part in races and I will definitely miss the freedom of being able to do one once a month or so...

4. Running with D and the dogs

You are probably thinking that I am being lazy here, but actually running with D and the dogs is my most favourite activity, the highlight of my week! We used to be able to go three of four times a week, but because of various logistical reasons (to do with current lack of dog-mobil) getting four dogs, plus the two of us on the mountain for a run has become quite tricky. Still, we manage it once a week. I imagine that getting four dogs, two kids and two adults on the mountain might be a challenge...

5. Quiet tea in bed

It is a ritual in our household, to get up early and have twenty minutes, in bed, just the two of us and a pot of tea (digestives optional). Each of us gets up early on alternate days, to prepare the tea, and then sneaks back into bed, where we sit, sip and look out of the window at the mountain or the sunrise. Sometimes we chat. Sometimes we sit in silence and enjoy a quiet and lovely start to the day. I am pretty sure that this will not be happening once the kids are here...

6. Cinema night

We don't go out much. Once every three weeks to the cinema is about as much as we can manage (as it involves a 40 minute drive and costs about 30 euros for tolls, snacks and cinema for the two of us). But I do enjoy our cinema nights and I will miss them. (Saying that the local summer cinema is open to all ages... Parents often bring their young children with - maybe I should add this to this post) 

7. Writing

It's not like I can write whenever I want to - I have to be very strict in scheduling my writing time (most of it happens before sunrise or before bed...) But even so, I know that when D and I are no longer alone in this house, writing time will be like gold dust. If I am lucky it will be squeezed between naps and cooking, or between their bedtime and mine (and dare I say, at the moment I can hardly keep my eyes open past 8pm...)

8. Coffee date

Once a week I have a coffee date with myself. Once a week, between school finishing and my next lesson starting, I have about 40 minutes all to myself. I go to a local coffeeshop and... well, I have a coffee and a croissant and I read, or write, or listen to a podcast. I love my Thursday afternoon, because of that 40 blissful minutes... I am guessing that too will have to go. 

9. Not having to cook every night

When I am sick, or tired, or sick and tired, or simply don't fancy cooking... well, I don't. We have pizza, or D cooks, or we simply have a toasty and a yoghurt. I am guessing that I might not be able to do that quite so often...

10. Travelling

I am not saying we will never travel again. I am not even suggesting that we travel quite a lot (because we don't...) We tend to do one big trip a year, usually to Italy, one or two trips to the UK and some small trips around Greece. Well, I am guessing that for a while at least (and partly for financial reasons) we might have to limit all the travelling. 

And yet... even after acknowledging all the things I will miss... even then... I cannot wait for them to get here! Hurry up, kiddos (lawyers, judges etc etc etc). We can't wait!! 

A Warm Welcome

A few days ago, I shared with you this post on Additions I spoke about the purchase of a little toy. It was only a small gesture, but for me it was huge - in a way it solidified in my mind that I will (hopefully, fingers crossed) be a mum before the summer. 

I am totally rational person (99.9% of the time) but this adoption has brought with it a host of superstitions. This is strange for me. I have never take to magical thinking and, I realise, in my rational brain that my buying this toy (or starting to think about the kids' room, or any other host of normal activties expectant parents indulge in) has no bearing on the outcome of this adoption. I know it. But do I really know it? There seems to be a part of me that retains the superstitions I laugh off in others... 

Anyway, the new additon came back with me, carefully wrapped in my pyjamas for the trip over. I showed him to D and he was pleased and we placed him on our dining room table for a couple of days. 

On Friday morning I woke up to find that Hardy, one of our four lovely dogs, had decided to make him feel welcome. Very welcome. Here he is, in safely tucked into her basket. 

She must have had him in with her overnight and, as she does with a lot of her stuffed toys, must have spent hours grooming him... He looked sticky and smellt... of dog. 

Nothing to do but a warm bath:

Some time to dry in the basin:

And a little sunbathing in the garden to dry out those wet ears:

Of course, under the watchful eye of Flynn, our youngest doggy:

All's well that ends well. He is now safely on my desk, out of reach of dogs, fully dry and happy to have had such an adventure (I would like to think...)

It is all bringing home how two kids and four dogs might be quite the challenge... 

Springtime

                                     

While the other side of the world is buried under snow, and the UK is getting storm after storm and flooding, Greece has enjoyed the mildest winter we have certainly experienced since we moved here. 

It has been strange, not getting a proper winter. It has been great in many ways, mainly in the fact that we have saved hundreds of euros not heating our house. On the other hand it feels like we have skipped something - a whole season has passed us by. 

At the moment though, our garden is blooming! And that is fantastic. It is time to prune the olive trees and hope that this year, they will bear fruit. Our trees were burnt back in 2009, when a forest fire devastated our area - our home narrowly escaped being burnt, but our garden didn't have such luck. They have since started growing again and we are hoping that this year they will bear fruit for us to get some olive oil and some eating olives. 

Our orange and lemon trees have done better and we have had a lot of fruit this year.

As you can see we have been particularly bad about picking them... 

I love spring. I love the smells and I love the way that it gives me hope... Better days are coming! 

The world of little girls

It's been a while since I was a little girl... A very long while for sure! I grew up in the 80's, when it was safe to spend the whole day out of the house, go for lunch in friend's homes without my mum knowing and then turn up for dinner, exhausted and happy. I grew up when riding my bike to the bakery was very normal and opening a "shop" on the road outside our home was fine too...

I played with lego, I had some dolls too, but my main preoccupation was cycling and playing "chase" and "hide and seek" with the other kids in the neighbourhood. Life was good. I felt safe and looked after, not just by my parents, but by the older kids, by their parents and by the community. 

It never occured to me, at that age, that I was too fat or too thin or in any way not "just right". It never crossed my mind that I was not pretty enough, or that my tummy was too big. Maybe it is blissful ignorance or maybe rosy retrospection, but I don't think I thought about my body as anything other than what it was - a tool for me to do things with -I played basketball for a local team for years- and a vehicle for the rest of me: my mind and soul. 

Maybe I am forgetting things, but I cannot imagine that the most important thing about me was ever my looks. And yet, almost three decades later, I see it everywhere and it really upsets me. 

It upsets me when I ask little girls what they want to be when they grow up (by the way, I wanted to be a pro basketball player for years, before I realised that 5'7" was not going to cut it) and the answers is overwhelmingly: models and singers. (And let's be honest, most female singers that these girls see are, in my opinion, at least glorified models/strippers.) 

I am a teacher of young kids (7-8 year olds) and every Friday we spend sometime doing 'circle time'. It is a social activity, where we sit in a circle and discuss different things. This time I simply wanted each child to say something positive about the child they were sitting next to, and so on, until everyone had heard something positive about themselves. 

By the end of it all I sat there in complete shock: the girls had overwhelmingly received commenst such as "you have pretty hair" or "you are so beautiful", while the boys had been told how fast they were, how good they are at football or at maths. It really saddened me, but I am not sure how to fix it. 

We are soon to become parents (hopefully soon, anyway, I cannot stand this wait much longer) and it is something that is so often on my mind. How do I help to change this, in my pupils and in my kids? How can we value girls, not just for their looks, but for all the other things they can do? How do we change this idea that looks come first and everything else is secondary? 

I have few answers at this stage...

A full rainbow of emotions

I received a phonecall last week, from one of the women in our adoption community here in Greece. We call each other fairly frequenty at the moment, mainly to offer support, or to exchange any news. As I have mentioned in other posts, it is a big help to be able to talk to someone who is going through the same things, as opposed to some people who have no idea (and, it seems, very little empathy) and make statements like: "Don't worry, if this adoption doesn't work out, you can have mine"... and other such useful comments, without realising the importance of this decision. 

And so this lady, let's call her Mary for simplicity's sake, called me up quite late at night to have a chat. Only, it turns out she did not just want to chat. It became quite clear fairly early on that what she wanted to do was lecture me on my "attitude". 

As it turns out a few nights before that, I had spent quite some time on the phone to yet another prospective adoptive mother (let's call her Helen) sharing my distress upon learning that the Minister for Women's Affairs had called a press conference, to announce that Ethiopia will soon put an end to intercountry adoption. On top of that, I was having a whinge about various other things, including simply, that I had had the week from hell. I was worried, worn out, sad and quite simply fed up. 

I know, I know, it is not often that people admit to all of these emotions in public and I thought I wasn't when I shared them with Helen. Yet, Helen spoke to Mary about it, and Mary, I guess with every good intention in mind, called me to tell me that "I should pull myself together" and (the other helpful phrase) "I should not worry". 

I gave her a piece of my mind, but very gently, but I went to bed furious. I felt judged and I also felt that someone, who hardly knew me, or in fact my circumstances was criticising my attitude, or thinking less of me for worrying. 

Well, here is what I think:

I believe in all emotions, not just the positive ones. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) our lives will be full of all of it, happines and grief, sadness and joy, frustration and calm, worry and jubilation. It'sonly  natural. And life is all the better for it. 

Worrying is normal. Without worrying you will be eaten by the tiger, or fall down a cliff. Without worrying you will not do well in the exam, or prepare for the marathon. Excessive worrying, well, that is called an anxiety disorder and I completely understand if you don't want one of those. 

But no worrying, that too is abnormal. It is called apathy and it's a sign of many bad things. So please, don't tell me not to worry! 

Same goes for a lot of other so called negative feelings: anger, sadness. I have news for some of you: those too can be normal responses to stimuli! 

I went to a funeral last week- it is normal for me to feel sad. Not feeling sad would be abnormal. I have also been waiting for two children that I have met, felt, played with, hugged and fed for over five months and on top of that I hear that the process might fall apart any day now. How can I not be worried? And I am tired. I have worked over 60 hours this week, plus kept a home, four dogs and a husband happy. 

So, dear Mary, excuse me if, once in a while, I indulge in a little whining session, over a glass of wine. And, please, do not judge me. I have a full rainbow of emotions, thank you very much! 

P.S. I tried to find a picture of a rainbow but did not... So you get the view from my morning runs. Yes, that is what I have decided to do with my extra hour in the morning these days - I have felt so sluggish without my daily dog-running sessions. I am sure my dogs are excited too! 

Why the Wait is so so painful...

Nobody likes waiting, I guess. Unless you are a Buddhist monk and enjoy flexing your patience muscles, the rest of us find waiting quite difficult. Especially why this waiting involves one of the biggest changes you are ever likely to experience in your life: becoming a parent! 

And so we have been waiting, for over five months now and I, probably because I am slightly crazy, have been looking at different research into waiting. One of the pieces of research I came across has made things clearer for me. In a paper entitled 'The Psychology of Waiting Lines' David Maister talks about the different effects that different types of waiting have. 

For example, and relevant to our situation, indefinite waiting times seem longer than definite ones (which is probably why at Greek tax offices they give you an average wait time, which is usually widely inaccurate, but - it seems - psychologically soothing). We have been indefinitely waiting since day 1, and we are only now inching closer to a more definite waiting time, as we get a court number and the wait times become around 4-6 weeks. 

Also relevant to us is the difference between the pre-process wait, which seems longer and the in-process wait. I am not sure which of these two you would place us in - somedays I think we have been in-process since the match, on the other hand, until our case is filed in court, it does all feel like a pre-process wait...

Of course what all this has done is bring into very sharp focus just how much of our life we have spent waiting to become parents. And although I know we should be "relaxing and enjoying the process" as a lot of people have suggested, as well as "enjoying our pre-child time with each other" it is becoming increasingly difficult to be in this limbo. 

Here's hoping for some good news this week... or next...