On balance and play; why my happiness is so happy

At the beginning of 2017 our youngest started kindy two days a week. Once she was happily settled I suddenly found myself with twelve hours a week that I was off duty. After 5 years of parenting 24/7 I had regular time off.

It was…weird.

First thing first, I sat down with my husband to ask him what he would like me to do with the time. After all he had been working full time for those last five years and I believed he had at least half a say in what I got up to. He laughed at me and told me to just chill out (all those bitchy mum days paid off!)

Then two different thoughts began to haunt me.

  • Fear; what if I have this extra time and I still get absolutely nothing achieved besides parenting and barely keeping my head above water? What if I am still stressed and exhausted?
  • Guilt; Why should I even have time off, I choose this path of stay home mum, shouldn’t I just be doing that? Or shouldn’t I be working to bring money in? Am I doing enough?

Despite these haunting thoughts the weeks began to roll by and I began to find a new routine. My off duty days were sometimes planned and sometimes spontaneous. I found without much effort I managed to balance the time between things that directly benefited the family and activities that nurtured me.

The result has been pretty beautiful.

When I became a mother many of the puzzle pieces that made me just fell away. Things that I cherished, that brought me joy, that gave me purpose. There is a certain loss that happens in those first few years, and a complete shift in identity. I am not complaining about the sacrifice, I do not mean this to sound negative, but I will proudly admit that it is bloody hard. I say proudly because mothers do not always give themselves enough credit for this shift, this change of self. It’s tough cookie stuff.

It hasn’t happened overnight, but slowly I have began to connect with another part of myself. I have had the time to contemplate what feels good in life, what activities enrich our world, what balance is needed to help create better flow. I have reconnected with friends on a deeper level, been able to be there for them more. I have started to play! I am rock climbing again which makes me so freakin happy. I am loving going deeper into yoga practice and mediation. I also love exploring how becoming a mum and all the challenges I have faced effects how I tackle other activities. And I get to the end of the day and no longer have the need to escape my exhaustion and emotions by binge watching Netflix…


What makes me really happy is knowing how this balance, this play, this happiness will ultimately affect how I parent. I have had to let go of a few limiting beliefs when it comes to living this way. Let go of the expectations to be doing something that produces money or completes a chore. Have my time to BE BALANCED and through that balance find my happy place…and not feel guilty about that. I feel like we could all do with permission to let go of expectations and find our true balance.

As the different areas in my life are being nurtured I am excited to take that energy and happiness back to my kids, back to my husband. To share that joy of play, whether its my ‘games’ or theirs. Because this has always been my number one goal as a parent, to have children who can feel happy within themselves, doing the things they love, feeling nurtured and connected.

Now I feel like I can show them the way…well, at least the way their mumma finds it.

I hope this post can be a little invitation to you…to let go..to slow down…to play, and find balance in your world.







Five things I wish I had googled as a mum to be

Here are five things I wish I had known about before becoming a mum. They are things that have become an important part of my parenting journey, I freakin love the lot of them!

They are just tools and may not be for your belt, but if you are intrigued…you are right?? Just google it!



I actually knew about co-sleeping thanks to my beautiful sister in law, but I had decided that it wasn’t for me. Four years later our son sleeps in the king bed with Hubby and our daughter is in the queen bed with me.

2. Baby Wearing

Time saver, life saver, way to transport baby. There are lots of different options; slings, wraps, soft structure carriers (my favourite). Oh and I also wish I knew that Baby Bjorns though popular really aren’t very comfy or very ergonomically correct for baby (try ergo 360 for a better forward facing option).

3. Baby Led Feeding (also known as baby led weaning)

Different approach to introducing solids, love it. Would also like to add a favourite mantra to this “It is my responsibility to prepare a range of healthy options for meals, it is my child’s responsibility to decide which to eat and how much to eat.”

4. Australian Breastfeeding Association

I wish I had found informed support around breastfeeding from day one. Breastfeeding isn’t always easy, but with the right information and support the great majority of women can breastfeed successfully for as long as they choose.

Australian Breastfeeding Association

5. Chole and Lola Breastfeeding Bra’s

Because they are pretty and comfy…and yes they have replaced my normal bra’s!

Chole and Lola

Waking at 4am for a text message tantrum

Okay here goes a confession. I had a tantrum this morning. Yes ME.

TeaI awoke from deep slumber to hear my son whimpering in the next room…it is still dark but I hear birds and I guess it is 4am. All good Dad will sort him. Whimpering continues and I look up to realise that Dad has gone for a surf, DAMN my memory! By this point our son is wandering the hallway, clearly awake. I stumble out of bed before he disturbs the baby, and I feel furious. It is the second morning in a row we are up before dawn, I am exhausted and totally over not having any ME time. I start feeling super angry at my husband for going surfing (even though it was planned). The rage is building and as my son starts whining about the stuff toddlers whine about, I know I am in bad territory.

I quickly grab my phone and shoot a completely horrible text message to my currently surfing hubby. I express every ridiculous thought in my head and press send.

Then I send one more which says “Thanks I feel better now :)”

An hour later he calls in a calm tone and I answer full of patience and love. He knows the text was a vent and he lovingly lets me have it. I did it because I knew he would accept my anger which needed to be expressed, I felt no guilt, and it helped me immensely in doing what needed to be done. The morning started at 4am, but it was a lovely morning.

Then I read this article and laughed; The Best Way to Teach Your Child Emotional Intelligence. Children, AND ADULTS, need a safe place to express raw feelings. There is so much value in accepting our emotions and expressing them till their end. It free’s us from the burden of negative thoughts circling our minds all day.

I feel so lucky to have a partner that is emotionally intelligent and accepting. With a little awareness we will be able to create that same safe place for our children, and that is a beautiful thing.

The Art of Receiving

24 hours ago we launched a fundraising page for our son Boston. It felt really weird…

As many of you will know our little guy, cute as a button busy as a bee, was born with Saethre-Chotzens Syndrome which caused craniosynostosis. He has already had one major surgery for cranial vault remodelling, and this year we hit what seemed to be a medical storm resulting in… Boston needing another major surgery.

IMG_3867_fotorWe’ve decided to travel to ‘The Australian Craniofacial Unit’ in Adelaide. They are an amazing team who have dedicated their professional lives to understanding this incredible field. Founded and lead by Professor David David, an extraordinary man who learnt from the father of craniofacial surgery, Paul Tessier.

Although the choice seems easy I can assure you it took time and much deliberation. One factor that crossed the table was money. We are lucky in Australia, most medical expenses will be covered by medicare, but repeated trips to a city in which we know no one…that would be our responsibility. Adding together flights, transfers and accommodation for just pre operative visits…BOOM $3000. By the time we are heading home from surgery we’ll be up around $9000 and then there will be post operative check ups 8 weeks, 3 months, 6 months, 12, months. BUT there was no way we would let money be the decider in our son’s health, this is his skull we are talking about, his vision, his brain…his future. So the house deposit we’ve been saving got promptly dipped into, and we felt lucky we even had the option.

A few weeks ago my very good friend brought up the idea of fundraising. “hmmm like selling freddos??” I asked. Clearly I had no experience or idea about fundraising, but the other issue I had was it just felt weird. Asking for help felt strange, and for me asking for money felt very strange. Of course Boston’s health is an amazing and worthy cause, in fact any fundraising we did would also help to spread awareness about craniofacial abnormalities and that is a wonderful cause. But it made me nervous, were we worthy? did we have a right to ask? there are people fleeing war torn countries, surely we should suck it up? I set our original goal at $4000 until my husband pointed out that would only cover a small portion of cost and “ah what are you thinking Nell? just set it at $10000″… Why did it feel so awkward?

Well 24 hours ago we launched gofundme.com/bostonsadventure and we have just hit $7330 IN DONATIONS! Ahhhh YES-ONE-DAY- SEVEN-THOUSAND. To say we are completely gobsmacked, awed and overwhelmed is an understatement. The love and generosity that has spilled in has been the most heart warming thing EVER. Whether people have donated, sent beautiful well wishes or shared our cause, it has just been so beautiful to see the love that surrounds our son. And what have I been doing today? Predominately walking around with a stunned confused look on my face.

We live in a society in which we are pushed to focus on what we have, and are constantly encouraged to have the biggest and best of EVERYTHING. You can do it alone, and do it better then the “Joneses”. The reality of being connected to our community and village takes more energy then waking up next to your cousins hut, these days family is spread across the country and around the world. Yes, we are all connected through technology… yet rarely do we hold each others hands… and sometimes we forget. We forget that we are nothing without each other. We forget that giving to those we love can be the most cherished part of our lives. We forget how to rely on others, and how to let others feel the joy of helping us.

To everyone who has taken part in Boston’s fundraiser today and into the future, we can not thank you enough. Now with every flight, appointment, blood test, scan and surgery, I will carry the thought of all of you. You have ownership of Boston’s journey…we are in this together… and that beyond all dollar signs is the most important thing xox


A Stay Home Mum’s Groundhog Day Ho Hums

Oh wow so we’ve reached that point again, raising your eyebrows to make your eyes feel more awake.

You’ve cancelled the tenth playdate in a row because of viral demons and here you sit, marooned on an island of green snot and high temperatures.

The house smells like someone’s spilt a bottle of tea tree oil in an Italian restaurant, or is it Asian? Sooo much ginger and garlic.

Day in, day out…you don’t seem to sit down all that much but the house is still a bomb site and your to do list never ends.

You have probably tapped out time with grandparents, but they are keeping you sane and will happily accept booga faced decedents.

Occasionally a bright idea pops into your head, but a request for the latest favourite book distracts any attempt at action.

Crap did I just boob for the 15th time tonight??? Probably, maybe, YES…teething.

Excuse me if I have nothing interesting to say, I have just had another groundhog day.

And…they just ate blue paint while I stole time to write this, hahaha ho hum this is bliss



The Test of Endurance: Margo’s Birth Story

From the ever so wonderful Kate from Katesurfs, who I met at an attachment parenting playgroup..and am so darn thankful I did.

Today Margo is two days old.  One of the midwives told me to write down everything about the birth while I’m still in the hospital and all the memories are fresh in my mind. To start, Margo is THE cutest, most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I’m not just saying that because I’m her mother, all the midwives and doctors think she’s a good looking baby too!

I was 7 days past my due date, but that was ok.  There wasn’t much for me to do, I worked up until the 4th of March, and she was due on the 8th…  Everyone thought I was crazy to be working right up until my due date, but we really needed the money, and I was feeling fine. I was teaching in a school, which had air conditioning, where the kids were really well behaved, so it was okay.

Work was finished, my due date had come and gone,,, but no baby Baltrotsky!  Being late was a very good thing, though.  It gave me time to scrub the house and rest!  After the whole house was scrubbed (as much as you can clean when you have a belly the size of a watermelon and the occasional gumby legs from someone’s cute little head cutting of the circulation to the lower half of your body), there wasn’t much to do except sit around and wait.  So, we listened to music, we meditated, we did yoga, we slept and I just waited for her to come.  Even after nine months of carrying her around, it was hard to grasp just exactly what was waiting for me when she came out…  I couldn’t imagine what she would look like, or even that I would ever even go into labor.  I just had this feeling like I would be pregnant forever!!!

I wasn’t even really desperate to get her out, even at a week late. I was really enjoying the pregnancy and I knew that she would come out when she was ready.  I didn’t want to be induced, although the obstetrician said it was available.  And then finally… the inevitable started to happen…


I was up all night with mild contractions, no sleep for more than 20 minutes at a time.  I thought for sure I would be in the hospital the next morning and she would be born on the 15th of March, the Ides of March!  But, morning came and the contractions subsided a little, I called the maternity ward and they said that was normal and that it could be up to a few days before I went into labor…  Art had off that day so we went around town, did some food shopping, and I only had irregular contractions.  They were only bad enough that I had to just stop walking and breath a little.

We got home around noon and I made a huge pot of yummy tofu, tomato, bok choy and noodle soup… which we’ll get back to a little later.  Took a short nap (I could finally get some sleep!) Then woke up around two I noticed the contractions were getting more regular and more uncomfortable, but I was still suspecting it would be a while before anything happened.  The contractions did not subside and got stronger and stronger.  I could still walk around in between, but when they came, I had start rocking and completely stop what I was doing.  Right around 5pm I thought I would finish off the rest of the soup… big mistake…  The contractions kept coming and I went to go meditate to sooth the pain, but the contractions were coming really strong, so it wasn’t really what you would call a deep meditation.

Art was doing his best to make sure I was comfortable, but by around 7pm, I knew things were heating up.  I called the midwives and told her what was happening and she said she wouldn’t be surprised if she saw us before the morning.  So, I told Art to get in the shower, brush his teeth and pack the car.  We didn’t even make until 8pm and the contractions were getting really strong.  So, we jumped in the car,,, and Art did his best to hit ever single bump on the five minute journey to the hospital!  It was also dark and rainy and a little chilly (end of summer in Australia). There was so much pressure on my abdomen, even when we hit a crack in the road, it felt like we had hit a crater!  We got to the maternity ward and I could barely make it out of the elevator or even tell the midwife what was happening.  She walked me down the hallway to the birthing room and told me to wait.  The room was so big and it was dark out and the maternity ward was quiet and peaceful.  Except for the intense contractions, it seemed like I was checking into a high quality vacation… mmm…. sort of….

I’m sure Art hit every pot hole he could manage to find!
The first mid-wife was so cool.  Art put a picture of our guru, Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, out on the windowsill and she instantly asked us if that was our guru and how good it was that we meditated, etc.  She did a quick check and told me that I was 4-5 cm dilated!  She was so proud that I had done so much hard work at home!  She said most women come in and are barely 1cm.  That made me feel good, like maybe this won’t be so bad after all.  We all chatted happily in between contractions and she made us feel really comfortable with our request to have a natural water birth, etc.  She filled the tub up, but her shift was about to end.

courtesy of katesurfs.com
courtesy of katesurfs.com

The contractions were getting really strong now, I had to start doing some breathing to get through them.  I had really bad heart burn too,,, that darn tofu, tomato soup!  The midwife suggested I get in the shower while the pool filled up so that my muscles could warm up…  Art  helped me  into the bathroom and the second I turned that water on, I barfed up the tofu soup!  Not even like I little bit, I mean, like every last drop!  It was full on exorcist barfing.  Just spewing till there was nothing left!  But, oh, did it feel so good to get that out.  Art and I laughed in between contractions, and I helped him spray the vomit chunks down the drain.  And, oh, the relief!  Without the heartburn, now I could really concentrate.

The shower was going okay, but it was getting hard for me to stand up.  So, I went to the pool.  But, the pool temperature was too hot, so after about 45 min in there, I had to get out because I was overheating and the the baby’s heart rate had jumped.  I felt her squirming around in there like crazy!  So, the midwife on duty, put me on this stupid monitoring machine.  By now it was about midnight and I was exhausted, hardly any sleep in two nights.  She then monitored me for something like 5 hours!

This part of the labor was the most intense.  I went between the bed and ball for hours, strapped to this stupid machine.  It told me the baby’s heart rate and it also showed the intensity of my contractions.  It seemed like I was there for an eternity.  Eventually, the baby’s heart rate returned to normal and so did my temperature.  Art and I were so exhausted, we were both actually falling asleep between contractions! I didn’t want to fall asleep because the sleep was so peaceful and then a huge contraction would come and snap me out of my dozing.

Even the midwife was falling asleep.  She was yawning and every once in a while would leave the room for up to an hour and come back smelling like she just had a cup of coffee. They checked my dilation sometime during these 5 hours of hell and said I was 7-8 cm and that they should break my waters to help the birth along.  I didn’t want any intervention at all, but I was also exhausted, after 30 or so hours of pre-labor and labor combined, I agreed.  After they broke my waters, the contractions changed, they were still as intense, but somehow seemed like they were doing more.

I was still strapped to that stupid machine and would rip off the heart monitor that was strapped to my finger, every time I had a contraction.  They also said I was dehydrated and would need an IV!  As soon as I heard that, I started drinking like a camel.  After each contraction I needed a huge gulp of water.  Art’s almost sole job for 5 hours was just to keep filling up my water bottle.  With each contraction, I was breathing so heavily, and that’s why I was getting so dehydrated!  Anyway, it was one way of keeping Art awake, he was the water boy!

Finally, around 5am, the midwife checked my dilation again, 10cm!  Now I could push if I felt the urge, although the midwife seemed reluctant to really let me give it a go.  I felt like she would be cheering me on or something.. but no.. she just sat there and did nothing… It seemed like she wasn’t sure if I was fully dilated and the doctor wouldn’t be around for several hours.  For some reason, I felt really pissed off at her because I felt like she was holding up my labor because she seemed uncertain.  I was probably feeling very unsure of what to do at this point and very very exhausted.  She was okay, but I didn’t really feel so comfortable with her, the whole night… (I’ve always heard that babies will not be born if certain unwanted people are in the room).

The pool was still warm from when they first filled it up.  After the initial over-heating, I had lost all interest in the pool.  To be honest, I couldn’t even imagine that this baby would ever be born!  I just thought I might sit there for the rest of my life in labor!  The whole experience was surreal.  I felt like I wasn’t even there.  I could feel the sensations, and I was coherent, but I was in this zone.  Who am I?  Am I even experience this pain?  What is happening?  Where am I?  It went on like this for hours.  Anyways, after they broke my waters, that feeling subsided slighty and I asked if I could go back in the pool because my legs were killing me.  My whole body ached.  Each contraction required 100% attention and strength from my entire body.

So, into the pool I went.  It felt much better and because of the reduced pressure from them breaking my water I felt like it might be over soon.  The idea of ‘over soon’ was so vague to me.  Would over soon mean that I would have a little baby soon?  They kept saying, ‘oh, just wait to you get to see your little treasure’.  I still couldn’t imagine holding a baby in my arms, or even picture what she would look like or that an actual baby was going to come out of me!  All I wanted to do was to go to sleep!  I kept having this thought, ‘I can’t wait till this is over and I can sleep’…. and then I realized what a stupid thought that was… I was going to have a newborn… how was I ever going to sleep?

I spent nearly another 3 hours in the pool doing this wimpy pushing.  The midwife told me, when you feel an overwhelming urge to push, do it hard…  Well, that didn’t really mean any thing to me, I had no idea what she meant!  I really didn’t like her that much, especially now.  The sun had come up and and at this point I hadn’t slept much in over 36 hours.  I was exhausted and so was Art.  In fact, second to dealing with the contractions, my second most strong thought was how bad I felt for Art!  He sat there through the whole thing, there for me ever second, whatever I needed.  One second he would help me to stand up, the next, I would swat him away when he tried to rub my shoulders…  poor thing… he was exhausted too and had to sit through me going through this insane experience!  He was really amazing, I can’t imagine having to go through that with anyone else.  He was just incredible… what a lucky baby to have a father like that

Anyways, 8am rolls around and we have a new midwife.  Thank GOD!  Her name was Margaret Mary, in her fifties, very stern, but really sweet looking and all business.  I liked her right away.  She seemed so in charge and I could tell she really knew what she was doing and someone-to-trust(as almost all woman in labor for the first time feel!)!  Well, I didn’t have my glasses on, so I couldn’t really see her too well, but I could tell that she was my savior!  Seriously!  I am so lucky that she came.  (In hindsight, now I know how incredibly important it is to have a midwife or duola present at your birth, one whom you can trust and whom you know!  I often wonder how much faster my labor would have gone if I had had someone there that I trusted).

Olympic sized birthing pool!
She watched me have one contraction and saw that I was not pushing hard enough.  I specifically told her that I needed her help and that I didn’t know what to do.  So, she told me that the baby was posterior and that I literally had to push you so hard that I turned you around to get you out!  She said, ‘Right, here’s what we’re going to do, you’re not going to like it, but it’s what you HAVE to do’.  You’re going to get out of that pool and go to the toilet.  You’re going to push like hell and on the toilet you don’t have to worry about anything coming out and you’ll be in a better position.  Get up now, take big steps and let’s get to the toilet.  So, drill sergeant Margaret gets me up and walks me to the toilet.

We get to the toilet and she sits down right next to me and starts bossing me around (and, I liked it).  Take a deep breath, hold it and you’re going to bear down like you have to take the biggest poo of your life.  You’re pushing your baby out literally with the muscles in your diaphragm.  As soon as she told what I had to do, I immediate got pissed off at the last midwife who might have been able to tell me that information a few hours ago!  Then, I thanked Margaret for telling me what to do, I pushed, and my God, I finally felt your head start to make it’s way down!  I was like ‘YEAH! This is it!  This is how I get my baby out!’  So, she kept talking me through each contraction. ‘Wait for it to build, now push, hold your breath, and push, like this, for ten minutes.’  Finally, I felt some progress.  It burned so bad, but I knew it was finally happening!  I reached and could just feel the top of your head.

Oh, and a little comic relief walked in at this point… here I was sitting on the toilet, naked as the day I was born, and in walks the OB, Dr. Doolabh, who was going to deliver the baby.  He was doing his morning rounds, all dressed nicely.  ‘Oh… hello’, I said, all smiley, in between bearing down with a contraction.  Margaret Mary said, ‘she’s doing awesome, she’s had no drugs and don’t go far because this baby is about to come out.’

Then, drill-seargent Margaret Mary said, ‘Right, you’re not going to have this baby on the toilet, you’re going back to the pool!!!!!  The pool felt like it was three miles away.  How could I WALK to the toilet with a baby’s head practically hanging out of me!?  ‘I can’t do it!’. I said. ‘Oh yes you can,’ says Margaret Mary.  And, you’re going to take BIG steps to get there!  She was awesome.  She we walked to the pool and I got in and laid back.  Did I forget to mention how much it burns to have a baby’s head coming out of your vagina?!  She told another midwife to call back the OB because this baby was coming out!

I laid back in the pool so content, yet, in so much burning pain.  Then, Margaret Mary gets out this big flashlight and Art gets his camera out to take some illegal video.  She talked me through a few more contractions, telling me to listen to her, and not push all at once.  I could really feel her head now.  I just wanted to push her out, but I was listening to Margaret Mary.  One more gigantic push and her head came out and oh what a relief!  I could see the back of the little head with all of this goopy stuff floating on it.  She was submerged under water.  I was in bliss,,, don’t ask me how you can be in bliss with something the size of a melon hanging out of you,,, but I was.  The rest of the body had to come out though.

They said to wait for the next contraction.  It felt like 5 minutes went by, although, it was probably only 30 sec.  I really really wanted to push her out!  But, there was no contraction coming!  I kept asking, can I just push her out?  They said, to try and wait for one.  But, nothing was happening!  Finally, Dr. Doolabh, in his friendly Indian accent said, ‘just give a small push and see what happens….’  I gave a little push and she came flying out!

Dr. Doolabh just helped me a little to catch her and bring her above the water and there she was!  Right in my arms!  The cord was a little short and I wanted to bring her right up to my chest, but she was a little stuck at the water line.  And, she was soooooo beautiful.  Her eyes were wide open and she was looking all around, so alert!  I wanted to wait to delay the cord cutting, but it was so short, and I think they were a little concerned… so they clamped it and Art cut it. Then, we could really see her and I brought her up to my chest.  I couldn’t believe how perfect she looked!  I took a quick look at all her little body parts, and all I saw was this beautiful baby!  It was incredible.  I was just crying and laughing, the past 36 hours didn’t mean a thing!

I had so much energy right after.  I climbed out of the pool, not even using the stairs with the cord still hanging out and the placenta needed to come next.  I hoped on the bed where they put her on my chest, all covered in mucusy bloody stuff and she was just divine.  I did consent to getting a shot, which helps to deliver the placenta faster, and helps to stop bleeding… I was so over being all natural at this point!  She was so alert and so content.  We sat there for about an hour just staring at her… infact, at the time of writing this, she’s about 4 days old and we are still sitting around and staring at her… She did the whole breast crawl thing, that was amazing!  We took a good look at the placenta, that was really cool.  I was just smiling and crying, we were all doing great.  Even her little head, that had been squashed for hours to get through, was in perfect shape.  All the midwives later that day kept asking if you were a caesar, and proud me, said, ‘Nope, waterbirth’!

After all that, we had our little Margo and we were in love!  She was gorgeous and healthy.  My whole body was aching from hours and hours of labor and I had a little bit of grazing (think gravel rash… eww…), but no tearing.  But, no matter how long and crazy the labor had been, I would do all again if I had to.