Monthly Archives: March 2012

Potty mouth mom

I always thought it was weird when parents talked about things like potty training on facebook.

Really? Is it that exciting? Does the whole world have to know?

Now that I’m a mom, I’m afraid to say… I get it. Totally.

The first time Levi did a poo on the potty, I really did want to click over to facebook and write:

Levi did his first poo on the potty! or something along those lines.

I resisted, but only out of principle. The desire was all there. In full force.

Now that I’m definitely approaching the big PT (potty training) I know with certainty that I will probably be posting about it – asking questions or for advice form other moms.

As much as I know a lot of my “friends” will roll their eyes and wonder “really? does the whole world have to know?” just as I used to.

But I do’t even care any more.

They can scroll right over my status update and leave room for 10 moms to chime in with their advice. (Cuz you know plenty of moms will.)

So yeah, I’ve moved into the ranks of potty-mouthed mothers everywhere. Although I will not post something like “Levi did a poo in the potty!” I will absolutely post about the process and woes and victories of potty training so that we can all commiserate and congratulate ourselves together. (heh!)

After all, the moms of facebook need something to chime in their two cents about. Right?



Q for you: What do you think? Is posting about potty training “over sharing”? If so, do you care?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

Rejected, again.

I love my son so much.

The cliche rings true – I’d give anything, do anything for him.

I spend my days considering him, caring for him, providing for him, nurturing him, teaching him. Basically giving him everything I can so that he will know he’s loved and valued and respected and know that life is good.

So days like today, when I go into his room after a nap and he immediately melts into a raging fit becuase I’m not daddy? That’s kind of a kick in teh gut.

Because son, don’t you know how much I love you? How much I give you? How much of my very being is wrapped up in being your parent? Don’t you know I give almost 24/7 of time and energy for you???

It’s tough. Giving so much only to be met with rejection.

And it makes me think of Father God.

How much does he love? Give? Sacrifice? Provide? Teach? Guide? Care? Invest?

Over and over again he gives himself to us.

And yet over and over again he is rejected, or ignored, or simply counted as second priority (or third or fourth or…).

How much of my actions and choices must sadden him? The one who loves me so completely and yet demands nothing in response.

And today I choose to think about him and acknowledge his love for me, of which I’m still learning so much about.

Thanks Levi, for helping me to remember how amazing Jesus is. (And maybe you could htink about being a little nicer toward your mama tomorrow?)

*sigh* Toddlers.



Q for you: We all know how much it hurts to be rejected. Are you wallowing in rejection right now? Or are you choosing to not let it dictate your life or rob you of your joy?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

On the life of leisure and slicing grapes

I spent my morning pretending I was a woman of leisure.

Since Judah provided me an eventful night and I woke up groggy and TI-ERD this morning, I knew we had to get out of the house. If we stayed home I would never survive until nap time.

By 9:15 we were out the door (a small feat in itself) and down at the Strand to play at the Pirate Park. Levi climbed and played and jumped while Judah and I hung out on a blanket in the shade. Now and then I’d get up and play with Levi for a while, keeping Judah in my line of vision or bringing him along, perched on my hip.

it was gorgeous – clear blue skies, a perfect 80(ish) degrees, light breeze. Tiny waves crashed in the background.

We ate morning tea, we played “duck duck goose” with some older kids that we met (3 and 4 year olds!), and I taught Levi how to climb backwards off the knotted rope ladders.

After our play we took a walk. Within seconds Judah was asleep so I decided to go for a long enough walk that he could have a decent nap before heading back home.

We walked past cafes and shops and I made one little detour into a boutique that is way out of my league. I admired a cute little wooden truck ($45) and a lovely cup and saucer ($58) before high-tailing it out of there.

As I made my way back to my car I began to imagine that this is how I spent every day – out and about with my kids. Parks, play dates, swimming, shopping, library-ing, cafe-ing. Not home doing chores, not changing diapers, not wiping avacodo and drool of my baby’s chin or wiping my toddlers bum after a triumphant poo in the potty.

And Good Lord, not buried under mounds of laundry! Certainly not!

This morning I led the glamorous mom life that every girl dreams of before she becomes one herself. Or me at least. (Well, minus the $58 tea cup and saucer.)

And yes, there are moments of this – like today – enjoying a “life of leisure” with my littles. And there are other days, like yesterday where we spent all day cleaning and laundering and tripping over megablocks.

That’s it. Life as a SAHM – some of it is glamorous and leisurely, most of it’s not. But I’m learning to let it all be as worship unto God.

It’s in teh small that our greatest offereings are given.

I reminded myself that when I got home and sliced grapes and made one more PB&J.



Q for you: What are you doing that’s small and significant today?



p.s. Went over time today. Again.


Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

A woman’s right to choose

I saw a documentary last night called the Face of Birth. It highlights issues of maternal care in Australia, particularly homebirth and women’s right to choose what kind of a birth they’d like.

I completely understand why some women want to give birth in hospitals.

And I completely understand why some women do not.

There are compelling and legitimate reasons on either side of the fence.

Here in Australia, the “medicine” is socialized, meaning the goverment pays for it. (To an extent. Well, we pay our taxes and then they pay for our health care.)

I think it’s genius, socialized medicine. I mean seriously… public health care makes so much sense. (But that’s another post entirely.)

For me this means that i’ve had two babies – one by c-section, one by VBAC (vaginal birth after c/s) – and I’ve not paid a dime for any pre- or postnatal care, birth, or hospital stays. (This includes numerous “special” tests with Judah, both while in the womb and after he was born.) And with both babies I’ve received very good care that I will always be thankful for.

As an American I find this amazing and almost miraculous compared to our current system.

But as the wonder of socialized medicine is becoming more and more normal to me, I’m also realizing that Australia, too, has flaws in the “system.”

And stipulatons on how and where to give birth is an area that really does desperately need updating and improving.

Australia, like many developed nations, has a good health care system. But it is not great. There needs to be reforms so that women can give birth in the most natural, empowering environments possible with skilled attendents to assist and provide the “medical” care that is needed. (This is even more highlighted in indigenous areas where women are subject to some horrible requirements that would make any informed person shudder. But again, that’s also another post.)

We need to empower women to understand birth – the importance of it for both child AND mother – and then enable them to pursue the kind of childbirth that best serves their family and future.

Regardless of whether you think homebirth is for you or not, I pose the question:

Does a woman have the right to choose how to embark on this most precious and life-altering rite of passage? And isn’t what’s best for the baby intertwined with what’s best for the mother?

Or perhaps an even bigger question: Isn’t God big enough to design a process that serves mother and child simultaneously???



Q for you: Have you ever considered homebirth? What about a woman’s right to choose what type of birth she will have?



p.s. I will certainly explore some of these subjects further, probably both here and with more time and consideration on my other blog. For now, this was all I could pound out in my five minutes.


Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

The paper lady, I am not

Please tell me I’m not the only one out there to prepare my taxes three weeks before they’re due? And when I say “prepare” I mean get my paperwork in order, sort receipts, and tally expenses for the year… before sending it all off to my tax lady.

She is so gracious.

Every. Single. Year.

I am one of those receipt stashers – they get shoved into a drawer or a file or a shelf to be sorted “later”, which inevitably ends up being in March sometime just before they’re due.

Paperwork really is my nemisis. Filing, accounting, book-keeping. I loathe it all. LOATHE.

But grown-ups can’t really avoid that sort of thing, right?

A friend of mine suggested an ap called Expense Tracker. You take a photo of your receipt, enter in a few details, and there you go. Done. I will definitely be looking into that soon. (By the weekend – yes, I’ve given myself a deadline far before March 2013.)

We’ll see how we go. And by “we” I mean, I.

I’m not very good at “maintenance” with stuff like this. definitely an area I need to grow in.

For now, I’m just glad to have sorted through those mountains of receipts and be done with it for another year.

Here’s hoping the tax lady doesn’t need any more info.

And here’s hoping I figure out how to go digital this year. There are far too many bits of paper in my life.



Q for you: Do you hate paperwork as much as I do?



p.s. I let Levi play in all the throw-away receipts after I had sorted through which ones were actually itemizable (is that a word? uh, nope.) and which ones weren’t. Apparently I had saved a lot of receipts for no good reason…


Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

Eating off the kitchen floor

We watched the movie Contagion a couple of nights ago.

I’ve never really been much of a germ-o-phone (although I do wash my hands a lot) and I’ve probably become a little more aware of germs since having babies. But even still, I’m pretty laid back about stuff like that. Even with the kids (we eat stuff dropped on the floor all the time).

I think a few trips to India will cure you of being hyper aware of dirt adn grime.

I’ve seen my fair share of people living in grossly unsanitary conditions (not just india, but many nations) in slums and garbage dumps and even regular houses where they just don’t have the same standards as I might. And it’s heart-breaking, really. (Especially when preventable disease spreads due to simple things like lack of hand-washing.)

But it also helps cure you of being a freak about certain things.

Imagine! People all over the world are surviving without paper toilet covers and sanitizing wipes attached to their grocery carts! *gasp*

Pretty sure I will too.

But watching Contagion did gross me out a little. All those close-ups of door nobs and bus rails and ATM buttons. It was shot in a way that just made you think “creepy”.

Although the movie was a little slow it was interesting to see and think about just how quickly an epidemic like that could spread and how a worst-case scenario really could effect life as we know it.

But it also compared teh virus to SARS and H1N1. I admit, it made me feel kind of tough that I survived H1N1 unscathed, while pregnant. (I know thousands did, so I’m nothing special… but it was fun to think I was super tough for a few fleeting moments.)

Nothing like a good two hours of watching pretend people in pretend situations to make you feel like a superhero or a paranoid germ-o-phobe – one of the two.

Now, please, for the love of God, wash your hands after you sneeze people!



Q for you: Are you a germ-o-phobe? Or do you eat your food from the kitchen floor like me?




p.s. Went over time today. Partly because I got interrupted by a little person, and partly because it’s still early and my brain is not quite functioning at full speed yet. That second part is not a good excuse. At all. 🙂


Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

Let’s go ahead and call it an adventure

We sat in the dirt parking lot as it poured down rain.

I pulled Judah into the front seat with me to nurse him. Levi climbed onto Ryan’s lap.

We thought we’d eat our pad thai noodle take out and hope the rain let up. Only we found that the Noodle Box forgot to pack us forks.

It was the only Sharks game of the season and Ryan is an avid Sharkie. We’ve missed the game three years in a row previously so this one was kind of a big deal. Tickets had been purchased a month before as Ryan’s birthday gift from Levi and Judah.

Soon the rain turned into a fine mist. We thought we’d brave it.

It was already 8:00pm, an hour past the boys bedtime. The game didn’t even start until 8:30.

Either we’re insane, or we’re really fun parents we thought.

Let’s go ahead and call it an adventure and give it our best go.

Into the stadium we went.

Levi loved the big screen and the fireworks that went off every time the home team (Cowboys) scored. Ryan loved watching his team win.

He also loved the fact that he could take his boys to the football… even if Levi wasn’t interested in the slightest.

The rain held off the entire game… and began again as we walked back to the car.

Our boys got to bed by 11pm that night. We ate noodles in public with our hands. There was even a celebratory McDonalds milkshake stop on the way home.

Crazy parents or not, we sure did have some fun.



Q for you: Are you a sporting fan? When’s the last time you did something like go to a live game?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

I’m loving this tiny little space

Can I just say how much I’m loving this little blog of mine?

My five minute, unedited, tiny little space for a few words a day.

Yes, it’s sometimes frustrating to “STOP”. I always, always want to go back and re-write and add in words and sentances and correct little mistakes. But, oh thre’s a but…

But I LOVE that I’m actually writing every day.

My life is so hectic right now that if I only ever wrote when I had time to write… it would be almost never. And yet five minutes a day? I can make that happen. (And somedays it actually feels like a stretch – ha!)

So even though i still want and need and crave for time to sit and write and edit and write putting more effort and thought into the creative process, the fact taht I’ve got this little blog means that I’m still writing in teh meantime. And I love that.

Sure, it’s beating out the perfectonist in me. (I still have a long way to go.) Sure, it’s teaching me to not waffle on and on and be more succinct. (Well, hopefully.) Sure, it’s forcing me to sit down and do something every day as a discipline and a creative outlet.

It’s all those things, those wonderful things.

But mostly? It’s becoming this precious place where I just clink out what’s on my mind. Sometimes deep and sometimes not. Incredibly theraputic. And such an amazign way to store up the little slices of life that might get buried or lost otherwise.

Funny taht some of my favorite writing has been here – banged out in just a few mnutes.

Of course it needs polishing and honing… but still, these little sessions have produced some treasures… in my opinion at least.

i think I may have stumbled into somethng that really is changing my life for the better. And I love it.



Q for you: Are you actively seeking a way that you can be creative in the midst of your busy schedule and responsibilities?




Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell-check!) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos

Nursing babies to sleep

When I first had Levi I was taught not to “feed him to sleep”.

If I did that, I would create a baby who was dependent on me.

…Kind of a funny thought considering of course he was dependent on me. Um, he’s a baby.

Yes, there’s something to be said for teaching children to sleep independently.

There is a certain liberating feeling putting your baby down for a nap when they are awake and happy and then seeing them drift off to sleep happliy minutes later. (I used to love watching the process on the baby monitor with Levi after he learned to sleep on his own.)

But freaking out about creating a “dependency” in terms of holding or feeding your baby to sleep is kind of silly.

I’ve never heard of a 12 year old that still needs his mother to rock him to sleep. (Have you?)

So why all this fuss about “sleeping independently” anyway?

it will come.

Partly with our coaxing and teaching, partly as a developmental milestone like any other thing babies or children learn.

With my second baby I let him fall asleep in my arms all the time.

In fact, I encourage it.

He loves it and so do I.

Do you know that breastmilk actually induces sleep? (God’s clever like that… So why wouldn’t we want to go with it and take advantage of this amazing sleep elixir?)

These months race quickly. Quickly. Soon, I will be aching for one last chance to hold him in my arms.

So why wouldn’t I take advantage of the time I have now to let him fall asleep in teh most pleasant way possible for both of us?

I love it. And so does he.



Q for you: Getting babies to sleep can be tricky, I know that, and every parent needs to discover the best way to help their child to sleep in a way that honors the child and fits with the family values. I just happen to have a wide opinion on what fits within “right”… and it defininitely includes feeding and rocking my baby to sleep as much as he needs or I want (in addition to encouraging him to learn how to sleep by himself as he’s ready/able). When’s the last time you nursed/rocked a baby to sleep? Was it as beautiful and therapeutic for you as it no doubt was for baby?



That little word with such a big meaning (Jesus)


That one little word has such big implication behind it. Such big meaning. Such big misunderstanding. Such big presumption. Such big history. Such big depth. Such big possibility.

There are many names that we call God:









And I could go on and on (and on) with names for a long time. (Trust me, I really could. Though I’m by no means an expert, I’ve studied this stuff a little bit.)

But see here’s the thing about the names of Jesus…

They’re all there for a reason.

Everytime a new revelation of God was given, a new name was also assigned.

God gave the lamb for Abraham’s offering? Jehovah-Jireh, God provides.

See what I mean?

So we’ve called God names like Refuge and Comforter and Healer.


Not just because he does those things.

But because we need those things.

When we are hurt or lonely or disappointed? He is our Comforter.

When we are sick or broken? He’s our Healer.

When we are lost or battered or tossed about? Our Refuge.

God always shows himself to us in the way that we need him to.

When I need a Friend, he doesn’t show up as a King.

When I need a Savior, he doesn’t show up as a Teacher.

When I need a Counselor, he does’t show up as a Prophet.

But he is all those things. (Oh, and so, so much more.)

I’m so grateful that the name of Jesus is far too big to explore in one tiny little five minute post.


Q for you: What do you think of when you hear the name Jesus?


Click Clink Five | Five minutes a day, unedited.
Adriel also writes (using spell check) on motherhood and parenting at The Mommyhood Memos