Mouths of the babes

As we were driving to the shops this morning Lily piped up from the back seat to say, "You're kind of a kid, aren't you Mum?"

"Yes," I replied. "What makes you say that?"

"Well you're little."

"That's true."

"Why?"

"I just am," I said.

"Are you going to grow into a bigger adult one day?" she asked.

"No darling."

"Why not?"

"I'm finished growing."

"One day I'll be able to pick you up."

"Probably"

A long night

On Monday night we had to take poor little Charlie to hospital. He had caught a cold from Lil about two weeks earlier and after initially getting better he had started to get worse again over the weekend. He was having trouble feeding and couldn't sleep properly on his back because it made it too hard to breathe through his snuffly nose.

We took him to the doctor on Monday afternoon and he told us that he was in 'respiratory distress' and might have bronchiolitis. He showed us that all his chest muscles were straining to breathe properly and that his skin was getting mottled due to a lack of oxygen. Needless to say we took him straight to Emergency. (Well, my Dad dropped me off while P stayed home with Lil. After I'd been there a while I called my Mum who came in to help me out.)

They took us straight through and started to treat him immediately. They hooked up a monitor to him to check his oxygen levels and his heart rate and they did a chest X-ray to see if it was badly infected. Turns out he was oxygenating his blood quite well, but he was really struggling hard to do it. His heart and breathing rate were way too high and this was really stressing his little body.

It took a while, but after a while they hooked him up to oxygen (you can see the nasal prongs in his little face in the photo above) and he started to get better almost instantly. It was so nice to see. Not long after he fell into a calm sleep.

We were finally admitted up to the paediatrics ward after midnight. Mum was able to go home and I got to lie down on a creaky pull out bed next to Charlie's cot (between feeds and resettling him after they aspirated him a few times). They gradually dialed back the oxygen and by 4:00am he was off the oxygen support and breathing pretty well. At 5:30am a paediatrician came by and told me that they were still waiting on the test results from his mucous sample, but that they expected to discharge him later that day.

In the morning my Dad came in to help me out (and to bring in some more nappies for Charlie). I went downstairs to drink a coffee (no hot drinks are allowed in the ward) and to stare at the wall for a bit. While I was there our real estate agent called to tell me that our landlord was willing to extend our lease (otherwise we would have had to move next week), so that was nice.

Around 9:30am Lily decided that she wanted to see us and so she and P got the bus in to the hospital. She seems fascinated by all things medical at the moment and enjoyed being there when the main paediatricians did their rounds and checked on Charlie. They declared him well enough to go home and told us that his chest was all clear (it had been really noisy the night before simply because it was so hard for him to breathe, but there was no infection there at all) it was all upper respiratory. So then we just had to wait for the paperwork to get done. (We finally got home at 4pm)

I have to say that the hospital staff were all fantastic. The nurses (and we saw about 10 of them) were all simply lovely and so were the doctors and other medical staff. The whole thing also drove home to us how good it is to have supportive family nearby. It would have been so hard without the help of my parents (and P's parents would also have been there in a flash if we'd asked).

Charlie also lived up to his Little Buddha nickname. He was astonishingly calm throughout the whole experience and spent much of the time fast asleep (and much of that all by himself in a cot - a place I never expected to see any of my children sleeping!). Munchkin!

One month

Dear Charlie

Today you are exactly one month old.

I know it's cliche, but in many ways it really does feel as if you've always been here. In other ways, of course, we are all still adjusting. I am adjusting to the lack of sleep that goes hand in hand with the arrival of a newborn and their tiny tummy. Papa is adjusting to the avalanche of laundry and the seemingly never-ending array of parenting & household demands that comes with having two young children. Your sister is adjusting to the changes in her routine and, particularly, in my availability.

That said, all of us are so very happy to make these adjustments in order to welcome you into our family. Lily seems to melt whenever she looks at you and will spent ages stroking your head and thinking of new ways to entertain you. She can't wait until you're big enough to play with her, but seems content for the moment just to gaze at your cuteness and laugh at all the new noises you make.

I'm almost reluctant to say this, in case I jinx things, but it should be acknowledged that you are an incredibly calm little person. We have taken to calling you Little Buddha, because your default mode seems to be so relaxed and content. It's rather a change from your sister who has been a whirlwind almost from day one.

So welcome to the world Little Buddha. I am so excited to get to know you better and to watch you grow!

with all my love,
mama
xo

Introducing Charlie

Charlie arrived into the world on Saturday 2 October at 11:45am. He was born in the bath into the waiting arms of his mama after what I'd have to describe as a pretty good labour.

Warning: Long Post
(Feel free to just look at the photos)

Prelabour contractions had started the weekend before, but were not strong enough to demand my attention until Thursday night. I went to bed hoping for action during the night, but woke up a little disappointed. After breakfast we all went for a walk to the park and I walked around on uneven surfaces to try to get things moving, but by 9am it was clear that Charlie was planning to take his time and so I told P to go to work.

After P had gone, my Dad came over to look after Lily and they went out to the city to do some shopping. I busied myself in the kitchen baking focaccia and mixing a birthday cake for Charlie (the carrot, coconut & macadamia nut cake from Vegan with a Vengeance), stopping every now and then to manage the contradictions which were starting to get stronger.

Dad and Lily returned from town and we all had lunch together of fresh focaccia and salad. I put the cake in the oven, hoping...

After lunch I sat out in the sunshine that afternoon watching Lil play with Dad. Around 3pm we sat down to have cake for afternoon tea and my contradictions became intense enough to require most of my attention, but were still around 10 minutes apart.

Dad and Lil sat down to watch some Playschool in the late afternoon and I had a nap. I also called P to ask him to bring home some spicy Indian food for dinner (from Blu Ginger).

Dad headed off around 4:30pm and I gave Lily some early dinner. She was unfazed when I had to turn my attention to my contractions, which helped to make then seem less important.

At around 5:30pm P came home with dinner. I added lime pickle to the curries and every time I had a really spicy mouthful my contractions would intensify. This seemed like a good thing.

P got Lily ready for bed and (most unusually) I did the dishes in order to have something to focus on.

I snuggled Lily to sleep (like I do every night) and breathed through the contractions in bed and then sat on the couch with P while he rubbed my back. By 8pm I was having to stand and lean on the arm of the couch to deal with my contractions, which had become pretty strong (but were still only 10 minutes apart). P started to get up with me and rub my lower back through each contraction, which really helped. Then he thought of pressing on my hips, which was even better as it was starting to feel like my pelvic bone was being forced open (which, of course, it was).

By 9:00pm I decided to text my doula, Vickie, and my Mum to give them some warning and to allow them to get an early night (just in case). The contractions continued to come only 10 minutes apart though and so at 9:30pm I thought that I had better try to get some sleep.

I took two panadeine forte and lay down in bed while P continued to rub my back. When the contractions came I rolled over on to a pillow, circling my hips and breathing through the pain. Within half an hour I could feel the codeine in my system. I started to feel slightly nauseous and heavy and worried for a moment that I had only made things worse, but then I drifted off to sleep. P went to sleep in Lily's bed (as he has for the last few months).

I woke up around 2:30am. The pain killers were starting to wear off and I had to concentrate again to get through each contraction. They were still 10 minutes apart and I decided to stay in bed and to try to sleep between each wave. This worked until around 3:30am when I was working too hard to sleep at all, but talked myself into staying in bed to get a bit more rest.

I managed to stay in bed until 5am when the contractions were just too strong to handle lying down. I got up and made myself a bowl of cereal. While I was eating it I wrote a shopping list for the farmers markets. For some strange reason I thought that P might still have the chance to go and buy our fruit and veg for the week...

It was still and peaceful in the early morning light and I felt quite calm despite the growing intensity of each contraction. I worked through a few of them by leaning over the kitchen table, but decided to move into the loungeroom in order to use the Swiss Ball instead and rest my legs a little. I knelt in front of the ball and used it to help me rotate my hips through each contraction. In between each wave I rested my head on it and tried to sleep a little in order to preserve my energy. I was surprised to find myself drifted off every now and then.

At 6am I sent my Mum a text message to ask her and her partner, A, to come over to look after Lily so that I could monopolise P's attention. By 7am, when P woke up, I hadn't heard back from Mum and so I asked P to call her. She had just looked at her phone and was getting ready to come over.

Lily got up around then and we all sat down in the kitchen for breakfast. I left the room for my next contraction, but had to lean on the kitchen table again for the following one. Lil wanted to know why I was leaning on the table and, after the contraction had peaked, I explained that my back hurt and that leaning on the table helped me to feel better. She decided that her back was sore too and to join me. Laughing at her made everything feel a lot less intense.

Mum and A came over while we were finishing breakfast. I had a contraction just as A walked in the door and wasn't able to greet her, which felt odd, but she just walked passed quietly and went to entertain Lily in her bedroom.

I stayed in the kitchen with P who was now free to rub my back and hips through each contraction, which helped so much. I was starting to find it hard not to vocalise loudly and was a little disappointed when Lil decided not to go to the Farmers Markets with Mum and A.

We gave A our market shopping list and Mum stayed behind to look after Lil. I moved back into the lounge room in order to lean over the Swiss Ball again. At one point Lil came in and wanted to know why I was leaning on the Swiss Ball. I explained that it helped my back and she informed me that her back was still quite sore and that she'd like to use it. Once again laughing at her calmed me right down, but I was glad that she didn't keep the ball for very long.

By 8:30am my contractions were getting really strong and Mum started talking to Lily about going over to her place for a play. I also asked P to call Vickie to ask her to come over, but then got all indecisive while he was on the phone and ended up saying we'd call her back. (I'm not sure why, in retrospect. I have a horrible feeling that I was trying not to be a burden!) But it wasn't long before I asked P to call her back to ask her to come over.

A returned with the market shopping just before 9am and Mum and Lil were able to head off. As soon as they were out of the house I started to vocalise loudly through each contraction and found that it helped so much. I was amused to realise that I sounded just like an elephant at one point after years of failing to make a good elephant noise for Lil.

Vickie arrived around 9:20am while I was having a contraction. They were coming on very strongly now and she remarked that labour seemed to be pretty established. Within a few contractions I started to sob as I became overwhelmed by the pain. (I know now that I was transitioning, but had no idea at the time). At that point Vickie suggested that we think about heading into the birth centre pretty quickly. Looking back at my (long, painful posterior) labour with Lil I realised that I'd gone in too soon last time and I was determined not to make that mistake again and told Vickie my concerns. She reassured me that it wasn't too soon this time around and so I agreed to head in.

Vickie called Gill, my midwife, who said that she would go into the birth centre and start running the bath. P started to get the car ready, while Vickie stayed with me and massaged my back through each contraction, while encouraging me to vocalise and breathe deeply.

Last time the car ride had been horrific, as I anxiously watched each turn from the front seat and waited fearfully for each contraction to hit me. This time I knelt backwards on the back seat with my head resting on a pillow. I also kept my eyes closed and was able to move and breathe through each contraction. It was a much better trip as a result.

We arrived at the birth centre at 10:30am. I sat down on the couch and Vickie dimmed the lights and started to burn some essential oils. I was amazed by how good the scent of the oils made me feel. When the next contraction hit I knelt on a mat on the floor and leaned over a bean bag. Gill suggested that I move into the bath.

Again I was determined not to get into the bath 'too soon' as I had done during my labour with Lily and expressed my concerns, but Gill reassured me that this was a good time to get in. P put on his board shorts and sat on the edge of the bath while I knelt on a foam pad, leaning forward over his knees. This enabled me to move through each contraction and to lie forward and rest in between. Vickie turned off the lights and put on a couple of tea lights instead. She also put on some calm music and brought in the oil burner. It was incredible what a different this made to the atmosphere in the room and to my capacity to deal with the pain.

Not long after getting in the water my contractions seemed to slow down a little and I was a bit concerned until Vickie mentioned to P that things had slowed down because Charlie's head was molding. I had been thinking that I might be going into second stage, but didn't want to get my hopes up and decided to keep thinking that I should pace myself to keep going until dinner time. Gill and Vickie left us alone in the bathroom and I started to feel all emotional, telling P how much I loved him over and over.

Not long after I started to feel strong pressure during my contractions and could feel myself starting to push. Vickie came in and suggested that I focus my energy down through my vocalisations. As I controlled my screams into grunts I could feel my pushes start to become more effective. I didn't experience this part of labour with Lily (as I'd had an epidural by this point) and as the intense pressure built up in my pelvis I decided that this was probably a good thing. I have heard that some women prefer the second stage of labour, but I found it unbelievably painful.

I could feel Charlie moving through the birth canal and it wasn't all that long before his head was pushing out. Gill was using a mirror and torch to see what was happening and I felt like saying "his head's about to come out," but I continued to be paranoid about getting my hopes up and so I kept quiet (well, about that, I was doing plenty of grunting and screaming during contractions).

Soon I could feel Charlie's head pushing through. It stung like mad and felt totally wrong, but I also started to feel excited that we were about to meet our baby boy. After his head had come out there was a brief pause and then I pushed the rest of him out with the next contraction. Gill told me to reach down and pick him up and so I did, amazed that I could 'catch' my own baby. As I pulled him out of the water I noticed that his cord was wrapped around his neck and told Gill who gently took it off. I held our gorgeous little boy to my chest and he began to scream. At least we knew that he was breathing!


It was 11:45am, only 75 minutes after we'd arrived at the birth centre.

We asked Vickie to call Mum so that she could bring Lily in to meet her little brother. Apparently she had to be told that Charlie had actually been born before she could be convinced to leave the fun at Grandma's house. She hadn't been there very long.

Gill pulled a mat into the bathroom and piled some pillows up against the bath and then P helped me up with Charlie still in my arms so that I could birth the placenta on the mat. I'd decided not to have the injection of Syntocinon and was glad that it only took 15 minutes, and a couple more contractions, for this to be over.

From there I took Charlie to the bed and soon after he was having his first breastfeed. Lily arrived shortly after and came in to meet her little brother. It was love at first sight.

Limbo land

These past few weeks have been intense ones for political tragics like myself. I have been obsessed with the statistics and details of our newly formed hung parliament and the negotiations (and ultimate) decisions of the Independents as to who to support to form a new government. Part of my obsession was grounded in my genuine fear of living under the reality of an Abbott government - albeit a rather hamstrung one, considering the make-up of both the House of Reps and the Senate (with the Greens set to hold the balance of power come July 2011). However, my obsession was also fueled by the fact that I found the whole process inherently fascinating.

Now, of course, we have a new government (and thank goodness it is a Gillard-led minority government - I have a hopeful feeling that I am going to like her far more in governing-mode than I did in campaigning-mode) and it is time to move on with life. But given that I am now over 38 weeks pregnant this is no simple matter. Life in these last weeks of pregnancy kind of resembles life under a shifting minority government - you really have no idea from one day to the next what will happen. Even worse, unlike the situation we just went through as a nation, no one else is really interested in endlessly speculating about what might happen when and there is even less concrete information available on which to base such speculations.

And so I am just trying to patiently exist in limbo land, knowing each day may be my last day of pregnancy; my last day without a newborn baby to attend to. I'm not very good at being pregnant (to put it mildly) and so I am partly yearning for each day to be the last. I would love to rid myself of this cumbersome pregnant body and I am so so very keen to meet and snuggle Charlie. But, well, I still have a few things to do before the birth and I am not crazy enough (this time around) to think that I'll have the slightest capacity to attend to them once Mr Charlie has made his appearance. So, I guess I'd better get back to writing this bloody book chapter and to finalising my pile of Christmas presents (yes, that is really on my List).

I hope that you are all keeping well and that you're enjoying our "New Paradigm." It looks like we'll all have to avoid even glancing at The Australian for the duration lest we want to lose our collective sanity to the Great Unhinging.

Makin' toys for my babes

While Lily was unwell she took to flicking through my 'Softies' sewing book and asking me to make her some of the toys that she found in it. I was happy to do it too, because the process of choosing the toy and the fabrics and the process of helping me to trace the patterns and stuff the toys transformed her briefly from a listless little thing into an excited and happy girl.

The first toy that she chose was "Mabel Monkey" and I took the opportunity to make a second one for Charlie. I was really happy with the way they turned out too. It's a really simple and straightforward pattern.

As soon as "Mabel" was finished, Lily gave her a big cuddle, threw a birthday party for her and then picked up the book again to choose another toy. When I thought about it, I could understand why. When I was a child, if I could have made pictures in a book come to life within a day or two, I would have been all about it too.

I was also pretty happy with her next choice. I have always liked the look of "Polly" and I thought that Lily's choice of fabrics was lots of fun. Again, it was a pretty simple pattern to make and I loved how Polly turned out.

Finally, I have been intending to make Lily a Steiner doll to give her after the birth as a sort of "Big Sister" present. I got my lovely sister-in-law to help me get started quite some time ago and then it sat in my study/studio for a long time... Well, I finally bought the book "Making Waldorf Dolls" a few weeks ago and it gave me to courage to finish the doll.

I have to say that, unlike the softies, this was not an easy project. I found it pretty challenging actually and won't be jumping to make another one for quite a while. My sister-in-law makes these dolls for her business and only charges $145 for each doll (which comes with two complete outfits, including gorgeous hand-knitted cardigans!). Once you consider the considerable cost of the materials that go into making them, plus the time that it takes to put them together, I would have to charge upwards of $500 to even make a profit. I am in awe of her!

That said, in the end I was really happy with how Lil's doll turned out (especially if you look back at my first attempt at making a Steiner doll!) and I am kind of excited to give it to her after Charlie is born.


What do you think of them?

Snow and sunshine

This weekend was glorious. We went out to the Farmers Markets early and then Lil decided to go from there to my Mum and her partner's place for a play. This meant that P could take me to prenatal yoga, which turned out to be lucky because it was a "partners" class and so he was able to stay and join in. (I am not sure that he quite saw this as 'lucky', but that's another issue...)

Image from here.

On the way home from yoga we stopped past the train station to pick up my Dad who came down to help us out and hang out with Lil for the weekend. Then we went to Silo bakery to pick up yumminess for lunch and the week to come. After picking up Lil from my Mum's, we headed home to eat a scrumptious lunch of fresh sourdough sandwiches and tarts in the sunshine. It turned into one of those gorgeous late winter days in Canberra, where the air is still a bit crisp, but the sky in bright blue and the sun is strong and warm.


After lunch Lil forced Dad to push her on the swing, while P and I got stuck into our sadly neglected garden. I pruned the overgrown plants and did a bit of weeding, while P dug out a new veggie patch around the side. Inspired, Lil decided to join in by planting a bunch of tomatoes seeds and dragging some sticks and weeds over to the compost heap. By 4pm I was utterly shattered and took myself off to bed for a nap. Every muscle in my body felt used, but in a good kind of way.


On Sunday Dad and P were planning to take Lil out to Corin Forest to play in the snow. We were being somewhat hopeful about the snow. It had clearly come down in the Brindabellas on Thursday, but we weren't able to find any information if it was actually still around or even if it had fallen as low as Corin Forest... But we thought it was worth a try.

I spent the morning baking cookies (these ones, and I can highly recommend them - with a little less sugar than she recommends) and packing an elaborate picnic for the snow adventurers. (My intention was to potter around the house once they had gone.) However, when they were on their way out the door, P said 'Why don't you come?' and suddenly I really wanted to (partly 'cause the picnic looked so yummy, and partly because of the prospect of seeing Lil's first contact with snow) and so I threw on some clothes and jumped in the car with them.

Our prospects of finding snow were looking grim for the first 45 minutes of the 50 minute drive. We hadn't seen any at all and were preparing Lil for 'just a picnic in the forest and a play' when suddenly we started to see some patches by the side of the road. Relieved we rounded the corner to see the whole hillside at Corin Forest was covered with snow.

After a dressing Lily up into some borrowed snow gear, which was really very munchkiny, we squelched up the sodden hillside into the bush and Lil had her first contact with snow. Don't you just love "firsts"? She squealed with delight when it was thrown up in the air and proceeded to crawl and slide all over the hillside in her excitement. It was gorgeous to watch.

After making the obligatory snowperson, we stomped back down the hill to have a picnic lunch in the sunshine. It was another gorgeous day - topped off by another nap by yours truly in the afternoon.

Challenges of feminist mothering

[Image credit: http://www.amazon.com/Barbie-Unbound-Parody-Obsession/dp/0934678898
BTW: Have you seen this book? It's really quite funny.]

The other day Lily informed me that girls like pink and boys like purple. I challenged her on that and she wavered a little, particularly when P announced loudly how much he LOVES pink. However, within minutes she was telling P that girls couldn't skateboard it was only for boys.

%*#%^#?!??!

We asked her who told her that and she mentioned a little girl that she goes to preschool with. I hate the power of patriarchy to infiltrate everything.

Of course we spend the rest of the afternoon telling her that she could learn to skateboard when she gets a bit bigger and I demonstrated that her female dolls house people could do some "mad tricks" on a miniature skateboard. She was very keen on them jumping over benches.

Nicole from another mother has been doing a great series of posts on being a "bad mother" (you know: "human") and her latest one on being a "failed feminist" reminded me of wanting to post about this.

I have to keep reminding myself that my mother managed to instill feminist values in me despite the very patriarchal culture that I grew up in. However, as she keeps pointing out, things have actually gotten worse since then in relation to young girls. The gender divide in clothing, toys & accessories is far starker than it was in the 70s & 80s and the whole sexualisation of girls has added a whole new layer of challenge. I think I am going to have to do some more work on finding a supportive community of other feminist parents to spend more time with...

Sick

Did you watch The Young Ones when you were a kid? I bloody loved that show, wrong though it was. Anyway, I've been thinking about it lately - particularly that episode "Sick" where they all get really sick (Neil in particular) and everything becomes even more gross and chaotic than usual.

[image credit: http://www.bbc.co.uk/comedy/theyoungones/index.shtml]

You see our little household has been sort of living that episode. We have all been taking turns being ridiculously sick for the past couple of months (with poor Lil having far more than her fair share of horrible sickness) and it is really getting to be quite overwhelming. The fact that it is freezing outside and so we can't really air out the house, or even hang the washing outside, hasn't helped. Neither has the fact that I am now a million years pregnant.

Poor Paul has been taking his latest turn being sick and there is now a frightening tower of dishes in our kitchen. Normally I do the odd load during the day, but he makes sure they are done every night and he just hasn't been up to that since the weekend. I have tried to step up, but whenever I stand at the sink for more than a few minutes my lower back starts seizing up and I find that I can't stand or walk for the next hour or two, which is not so feasible when you have a 3-year-old & a sick husband to care for...

Of course, my PhD has been the first thing to suffer from all this sickness, but Paul's job hasn't fared too well lately either and he is seriously thinking of dropping out of his Masters degree, which would be a shame... Hopefully we can get on top of this plague of illness in the next couple of weeks before Mr Charlie arrives. Otherwise things are going to get very interesting indeed!

Marriage equality

On the day that I married P I smiled all day. I smiled so much that my mouth began to ache, but I just couldn't stop. Honestly I felt that happy.

I didn't grow up thinking that getting married was necessarily something that I would do. I never had dreams of a fairy tale wedding or living 'happily ever after'. Not only did my parents get divorced when I was 5, but with the help of my feminist mother I understood from a very young age that the institution of marriage was founded on some fairly problematic patriarchal traditions whereby property in a woman was transferred from her father to her husband. It also had a sad history of trapping people in unhappy or abusive relationships and of reinforcing unequal power relationships in our society.

Despite all this I still chose to get married.

Why?

First and foremost I guess I truly believe that not only is culture something that is constantly evolving, but that it is necessary to make a conscious effort to claim cultural traditions for progressive purposes in order not to cede them entirely to conservative forces.

Second, and this relates to the first point, I believe that cultural traditions have an incredible symbolic power to convey so much more meaning into our lives that we are often willing to acknowledge in the West (or Global North). I don't want to abandon these cultural practices too easily and I felt the tradition of marriage was one that I wanted to take part in, despite its problematic history.

The reason that I wanted to take part in the tradition of marriage specifically was that I felt that it had the power to communicate a whole range of messages that we really significant for me. Due to its history in our culture, marriage had the power to communicate clearly to our family and friends that P and I were now a family and that we hoped that they would adopt our respective partners into our respective family and friendship circles and that they would respect our relationship as being fundamental to our sense of family and belonging in the world. A wedding is certainly not the only way of communicating this message, but it is certainly the most powerful in our culture (particularly if you have family members who are quite religious, etc).

Marriage also had that powerful shorthand in relation to the wider community and to the State and the way that all its various organs treat our relationship. This wasn't a very significant reasons for us to get married, but for some people it would be very important.

Finally, harking back to that symbolic meaning issue, I also felt that marriage was one way that P and I could know that we were both on the same page about where our relationship was going. Of course it is totally possible to commit to someone without marrying them. Of course it is possible to have honest discussions about creating a shared vision for the future, etc. However, some things are difficult to articulate and the less cerebral shared understanding that comes from deciding to marry someone can make that whole process more straightforward for some of us...

So I got married. I didn't change my name. I didn't get 'given away' or promise to obey him. But I got married and it was one of the happiest days of my life. My whole family was there along with many of my friends. We committed our lives to each other in a rotunda by the beach and then I kissed him on the nose. That evening we gathered with our nearest and dearest to celebrate, to eat vegan yum cha and to dance. It was lovely.

My mother and her partner have been together for far longer than P and I. They have loved and supported each other for many many years. They are committed to spending the rest of their lives together. However, despite all this, they are not legally permitted to marry in Australia because they are both female. They are currently denied the right to access the powerful cultural tradition of marriage to communicate to their families and friends that they consider each other family. Of course, their family and friends do understand this by now, but they have also been denied the right to communicate this powerful message to the wider community, to the State and to each other.

Honestly, this makes me so angry. I know that some people consider this to be a minor issue, but it's not. It's a fundamental human rights issue. We might take a fairly casual approach to our cultural traditions here in Australia, but that doesn't mean that they aren't significant or that they don't carry with them enormous power. Denying one group of people access to that power is a human rights abuse.

Today we attended a marriage equality rally in Canberra. This year it was particularly important because there is a federal election next week. Both the ALP and the Coalition have taken positive measures to deny marriage equality to queer people in Australia. Both should be sent a strong message that this is a totally unacceptable breach of human rights.

Meanwhile on planet dark ages, the Families First candidate Wendy Francis has been tweeting about gay marriage being a recipe for child abuse. Having been raised by a gay parent, I found this obnoxious and massively ignorant. However, I do question how fundamentally different it is to the stance adopted by the Coalition and the ALP. Saying that our culture is 'just not ready' for gay marriage is just a more subtle way of perpetuating the exact same prejudices and discriminatory practices. It just means that the bigots in those parties have had better media training.

The ACT Legislative Assembly have tried twice to make civil unions legal for same-sex couples in the ACT. The first time they did this the Howard-Liberal government overrode the legislation. The second time the Rudd-ALP government forced an amendment that prohibited any kind of celebration. They prohibited a celebration! WTF?!

The Australian Greens have tried to introduce a Marriage Equality Act several times and have been blocked by both major parties. If they gain the balance of power in the Senate this election then they may have more leverage to get a conscious vote on this issue. If Lin Hatfield-Dodds gets up in the ACT Senate then the Greens will have the balance of power straight away. This is a significant election for many reasons and marriage equality is one of them.

"Cost of living"

Bernard Keane has an interesting article in today's Crikey about the so-called "cost of living" debate/policies in this year's federal election campaign. He points out:

"Cost of living" is in this context a misnomer. The more accurate term is "cost of consumption choices". This is about Australians' expectations that their expensive lifestyle choices will be supported by governments. Actual poverty, where the cost of living has real, everyday consequences, won't feature in the campaign. There are no votes in addressing poverty. This is about telling middle-income Australians that their high-consumption lifestyles are a matter of legitimate public policy focus.

What I find so interesting is that the rhetoric behind these so-called "cost of living" policies pretends that we have an economic system that would ever actually regulate the market to such an extent. (Although when details are requested both Gillard and Abbott carefully shy away from stating this directly). It is no wonder that people get so confused about the nature of our economic system.

I remember when I was in my last year of law school I had a friend who worked on ACCC phone lines. A woman called up one day and asked why they weren't doing anything about the cost of bread. "They can just charge anything they like," she complained. "That's communism!"

On a similar note, I remember being taught in Constitutional Law that around 90% of a large surveyed group of US citizens in the 1990s thought the phrase "from each according to his abilities, to each according to his needs," was from the US Constitution. And they do far more political education in High School than we do.

Why I'm voting for the Greens

At the upcoming Federal election on 21 August, I plan to vote 1 for the Greens. These are some of the main reasons why:

1. They have a humane, compassion and reasonable policy on asylum seekers.
2. They are the only party with a genuine commitment to doing something positive about the problem of climate change now.*
3. They support marriage equality.
4. They support a Human Rights Act for Australia.
   
5. They do not support nuclear power or nuclear weapons.**
   
6. They have real policies for sustainability - rather than using the term to mean that they intend to reduce the immigration of 'the wrong people'.
7. They support six-month paid parental leave with superannuation benefits.
8. They do not support the mandatory Internet filter.
   
9. I believe them to be a party of real principle, whereas the two major parties seem committed to 'pragmatic' poll-driven policy making. A vote for poll-driven policy making is a vote for whatever the pollsters believe that people in marginal seats are concerned about. I see no reason to vote for that.

* Please, don't run that silly line about them not being serious about climate change because they blocked the CPRS. By the time the ALP and the Coalition had amended that piece of legislation it was not something that the Greens could support in good conscience. Yes, it was related to action on climate change, but it was bad action. It paid billions of dollars to polluting industries to keep polluting and committed Australia to a program whereby we'd to pay billions more in order to increase the pathetically low target of reductions in the future, and it over-allocated permits. This was a barrier to action, not a step in the right direction.

** Again, please don't argue that this makes them bad for climate change action. Yes, nuclear power would reduce our greenhouse emissions, but it would do so at the expense of creating radioactive waste. We currently have absolutely no idea how to safely dispose of radioactive waste and it is, therefore, thoroughly irresponsible to create it.

A dangerous or wasted vote?

I know that some people are concerned that by voting for the Greens they (or I) will be effectively electing the Abbott Coalition. The idea is that it is necessary to give the ALP your first preference in order to ensure that they cross the line ahead of the Coalition. I can understand where this concern comes from. However, it is actually based on a misunderstanding of our electoral system.

Let's start with the Senate. Our federal government is not formed in the Senate. This means that gaining a majority of seats in the Senate does not assist a party to form government (nor does having a minority prevent them from forming government - the ALP, for example, currently do not have a majority of seats in the Senate). This means that voting 1 for your local Greens candidate(s) in the Senate cannot increase the Coalition's chances of forming government. Instead, it does a number of other things.

1. First, it increases the likelihood of your local Greens candidate gaining a Senate seat and, if they were to do that, then they would have the capacity to represent your area and truly progressive policies in Parliament.
2. Second, political parties receive electoral funding based on the number of first preference votes they receive. So voting 1 for your local Greens will increase the amount of electoral funding that the Greens receive, thus increasing their capacity to lobby for progressive policies and to run better political campaigns in the future at the local, state and federal levels.
3. Third, if your local candidate gets up and so do other Greens Senate candidates then the Greens might end up holding the balance of power in the Senate. This would give them even more power to seek progressive amendments to legislation or to block legislation that is truly problematic from a Greens perspective (like the Internet Filter).
4. Fourth, an electoral swing to the Greens will give the ALP a clear message that it cannot take progressive voters for granted and continue to move to the Right in order to gain more votes. It will also force them to negotiate with the Greens - something that they have basically refused to do for the last three years.
   
5. Finally, you can choose to preference your local ALP candidate second, meaning that if the local Greens candidate does not get up then your vote will go to straight to your local ALP candidate (thus preventing your vote from contributing to a Senate that is controlled by the Libs or, heaven forbid, Families First).

OK, now the House of Reps. Here it is the case that the party who receives a clear majority of seats is able to form government. So what would be the result of voting 1 for your local Greens candidate for the House of Reps.

1. They might get in. Currently the Greens do not have any sitting members in the House of Reps. It would be great if we could change that, because it would signal a shift in Australian politics away from the current deadlock of the two-party system and that can only mean good things for democracy and for the choices that will be available in the future.
2. If they didn't get up, the Greens would still receive that vital increase in electoral funding.
3. A swing to the Greens in the lower house would send an even stronger message to the ALP to stop taking progressive voters for granted and to start negotiating with the Greens.
4. In the very unlikely event that the election of a Greens house of reps candidate made the difference between ALP election and defeat to the Coalition, the ALP could decide to form a coalition with the Greens. However, let's be sensible here. At this election the ALP will either get up on its own, or it will lose to the Coalition because people have chosen to vote for the Coalition ahead of the ALP. It will have nothing to do with the Greens.
5. On that note, you can, of course, vote 2 for the ALP in order to ensure that they get your vote should your local Greens candidate fail to get up. This vote will be just as effective for them as a first preference vote.

Any thoughts, questions?

Jeremy Sears and John Quiggin both have great posts on this issue, and LP is asking commenters to let them know their reasons for voting Green instead of ALP.

Apparently compassion is just PC nonesense

It was becoming increasingly clear that the Gillard-Labor government was preparing to "lurch to the Right" on asylum seekers (and let's not pretend that there were actually occupying a middle-ground previous, please), but it was still deeply depressing to read yesterday about Gillard announcing that Labor is preparing to 'get tough on asylum seekers.' Particularly disappointing was her statement that 'political correctness' should not shut-down an honest debate about 'border security':

"I'd like to sweep away any sense that people should close down any debate, including this debate, through a sense of self-censorship or political correctness. People should feel free to say what they feel. For people to say they're anxious about border security doesn't make them intolerant. It certainly doesn't make them a racist - it means they're expressing a genuine view."

The arrival of tiny numbers of asylum seekers by boat into our country is not a border security issue. It is a humanitarian issue.

Over 90% of these people are found to be genuine refugees (if they are allowed to get in and spend years in our detention centers, racking up debt to the government for the 'privilege' of being there). Being 'genuine refugees' means that they are fleeing truly horrifying, life-threatening situations in their countries of origin. They might be members of persecuted minorities, such as Tamils from Sri Lanka or Hazaras from Afghanistan, or they might be suffering political persecution in their homeland.

Many people, including Tony Abbott, have suggested that these people should just stop in the first country that they arrive in. However, as Julian Burnside points out, it is not that simple. Hazaras are not safe in Pakistan as they arrive in areas that are frequently controlled by the Taliban (the group responsible for their persecution in Afghanistan), while no one receives true protection in Indonesia, as that country is not a signatory to the UN Refugee Convention. If they are lucky enough to have their claims processed by UNHCR in Indonesia, it will often take over a decade, during which time they are considered 'illegal' and have no rights to education or health, and risk being sent back to their dangerous homeland at any point. (BTW: India is not signatory to the Refugee Convention either.)

To pretend that political correctness is currently preventing an 'honest debate' in this country is deeply dishonest. Currently talk-back radio is full of people expressing their view that "boat people should be sent back." There is also a bloody good reason why many of these views are not considered to be 'political correct': they are founded on a xenophobic feeling of "us" v "them" and contain more than a little racism to boot. Take this caller, for example:

Caller Melba says that boat people should be sent back to their own country. She says that the “islamification of Australia” is an open secret. — 2GB (Sydney) Breakfast Chris Smith

Instead of pandering to these views, the government has a responsibility to actually take some leadership in this debate. It would be quite easy to actually dispel a number of myths associated with asylum seekers arriving by boat; to better publicise the true facts and statistics and to promote a sense of compassion and tolerance in our community.

They could start by letting people know:

• Australia takes less than 1% of the world's refugees; and
• Asylum seekers arriving by boat make up a tiny percentage of our annual arrivals for immigration.

As Julian Burnside puts it:

"at the current rate of arrivals it would take about 20 years to fill the MCG with boat people. The largest number to arrive in any 12-month period over the past three decades is 4100. Compare that with about 200,000 new permanent migrants every year. Boat arrivals so far this year amount to less than three days' worth of ordinary migration."

They could also ask people to put themselves into the shoes of a typical asylum seeker and to ask themselves: "What would you do?"

Imagine for a moment that you and your family were members of a persecuted minority - say Tamils in Sri Lanka, who are currently facing genocide after the collapse of the Tamil Tigers. Imagine you somehow managed to get yourselves as far as Indonesia for 'processing as refugees', only to find that you have a precarious wait of over one decade, during which time you have no capacity to support your family, no rights to health care or education, and are at continuous risk of being deported back to Sri Lanka. Would you pay a people smuggler (or in-debt yourself to them) in order to gain the possibility of arriving somewhere safer? Would you risk just about anything to get your children to a place where they don't have to constantly fear for their lives and might have a chance of making it to adulthood? Or would you 'queue up'?

You really must watch this

This animation of a recent David Harvey speech on the underlying cause of the current global economic crisis is fantastic. I wish I could insert it into my PhD thesis.

Mini blueberry bagels

Flushed with success from my bagel baking on Saturday, I decided to have another go on Sunday. This time I made blueberry bagels (draining the very last of last summer's blueberries from our freezer) and I decided to make them mini.

I had to alter the recipe a bit in order to get them to work and so I thought that I would share it with you here (partly so that I don't lose it myself), because it must be said that they were utterly delicious!

Ingredients
• 3/4 teaspoon active dry yeast
• 1 & 1/3 cups warm water
• 3 tablespoons sugar
• 4.5 cups plain flour
• 1 tablespoon sea salt
• 2/3 cup of fresh or frozen blueberries
• Extra sugar for topping (optional)
• Vegetable oil (for bowl)
• Plastic wrap (or some clean plastic bags)

Preparation time: Just over four hours. (Most of this is for rising, so you can be doing other things)
Baking time: About 14 minutes.

Method
Whisk together the yeast and water for a few minutes and leave it to stand for a few minutes.

Mix yeast & water together with remaining in the bread machine on pizza dough setting (or in a mixer with a dough hook for about 20 minutes; or by hand if you are cool and old school).

Remove dough and knead on a lightly floured surfaced for about 1 minute (until a slightly tacky -- but not sticky -- dough forms). Continue to knead dough for about 5 more minutes (adding small amounts of flour if necessary to make it not sticky) -- then transfer to a lightly oiled bowl and cover with plastic wrap (make it a bit big so that you can use it for another purpose later).

Let rise in a warm place for 2 hours (until doubled in bulk).

Divide dough into 20 equal pieces (each should weigh about 50 grams). Cover with a clean damp kitchen towel and leave it to rest for about 20 minutes.

Heavily grease two baking sheets with oil and set aside.

With lightly oiled hands (or floured hands if the blueberries have made the mixture a tad sticky), roll each piece of dough into a log. Then turn the log into a little ring, sticking the two ends together with a little bit of water and some rolling.

Place the bagels on a lightly floured chopping board (about 1 inch apart) and cover with that piece of oiled plastic wrap from earlier in the process, and let rest in a warm place for about 20 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 260 C.

Fill a large stockpot (the wider the better) with water and bring to a boil.

Gently drop bagels into the water (as many as will comfortably fit without touching each other – I did four at a time and found that was enough to keep me busy with all the turning etc). After 30 seconds, use a slotted spoon to gently flip the bagels over -- simmer for yet another 30 seconds.

Then, using the slotted spoon again, remove the bagels from the water and try to drain as much water off them as possible before placing onto the greased baking sheets about 1 inch apart (I found that each baking sheet held 10 mini bagels quite well). Top them with sugar if you are feeling decadent while they are still wet (I did this while each successive batch were getting their first 30 seconds of boiling).

Immediately place sheets in the oven. Bake for 5 minutes and then flip the bagels over (before they stick), rotate the sheets and reduce the temperature to 175 C. Bake for another 4-5 minutes (or until starting to brown) and then rotate again if your oven is uneven in temperature (like mine). Bake for another 4 minutes or so (but turn off the temperature at this point, unless they are still looking a little pasty).

Transfer bagels to wire rack to cool or just leave them briefly and start eating them straight out of the oven.

They’ll keep well for a few days in a cotton bag, but store in the freezer for any longer than that.

Fun Bags?!?

News.com.au are reporting that a sub-editor of a British baby magazine, Katheryn Blundell (who they have oddly described as a 'baby expert') recently wrote an article in which she describes breastfeeding as "creepy," stating that she chose to formula feed her baby because she wanted to keep her "fun bags" in shape.

Let me just trot out the disclaimer here and say that I truly do support freedom of choice for women in relation to how they feed their babies. However, calling breastfeeding "creepy" and highlighting the importance of breasts as sexual objects in a mainstream parenting magazine goes well beyond making a personal choice. It actively contributes to the culture of shaming women who choose to breastfeed their babies (or would like to) and it contributes to the narrative that men have the right to expect that breasts be kept for their sexual enjoyment only.

Just look at some of the comments attached to the article:

Matt of Brisbane Posted at 10:33 AM Today: "As a man I support this woman's decision to keep her fun bags in tit top shape."

Mark of Potts Point Posted at 10:46 AM Today: "At last, someone with common sense. "Fun bags" should be for everyone, not just the babies!"

And the result? Well the result in Britain is that only 1 in 100 British women breastfeed their babies for 6 months. Just one percent! I find that really sad. Imagine how this contributes to a vicious cycle in which breastfeeding is framed as a fringe activity, and imagine the pressure that would follow for women to "choose" not to do it in such an environment.

It is not only babies that benefit from breastfeeding. Breastfeeding produces powerful hormones that for most women increase their sense of well-being - providing a valuable boost in the sleep-deprived haze of new motherhood. They also promote bonding with your baby, which is not only positive for the baby, but can again make the intensity of the demands on your time (and body) feel so much easier to deal with.

Taking a more global perspective, creating a culture in which breastfeeding is seen as 'primitive' and formula feeding is seen as modern and desirable is extremely problematic. In many many countries the water supply is simply not safe enough to feed babies formula without risking their health and, what's more, having to pay for formula (when the free breastmilk runs out due to lack of use) means that many poor families will have to go without food and medical treatment for the rest of the family. However, women in these countries do turn to formula due to the deliberately manufactured belief that it is healthier for their babies, because it is the 'modern' thing to do.

If you don't think that Blundell's comments could contribute to this manufactured belief then read this comment:

Alicia Browne of NSW Posted at 10:43 AM Today: "I bottle fed my boys from day 1 & 100% support bottle feeding. Both boys couldn't be any healthier & I will be bottle feeding any future children I have. Not only do I support bottle feeding but I also promote it. I would also like to say to all those "breast is best" supporters, your narrowminded ideas are prehistoric & are dying out (might be why you feel you have to scream so loudly about it & force your ancient & uninfomred views on other people)."

Thanks Alicia.

Perpetual Child

It occurred to me today that in many ways I have not grown up. What I mean by this is that I have failed to adopt many of the behaviours that I used to associate with being a grown-up (woman) and I really can’t see that changing. Let me give you a few examples:

1. I don’t wear make-up.

Now, of course, this could be a very grown-up feminist thing for me to do – to consciously choose not to play into female beauty stereotypes, etc. However, I have to be honest and admit that this doesn’t play a huge role in the fact that I don’t wear make-up. The truth of the matter is that I just feel silly putting it on and, well, I’m really quite lazy about personal presentation (I rarely brush my hair, for example).

When I was in high school I use to wear a star-shaped sparkly sticker on my face and glitter around my eyes. I did it for fun. It made me happy. If make-up made me feel the same way I’d totally wear it, but the fact is that it doesn’t. Take away the glitter and it’s just boring.

I bought some make-up for my wedding (a lip-liner, an eye-liner and some mascara) and after I’d put it on I really didn’t look any different. What’s the point? (I totally should have worn glitter).

2. I don’t wear high heels. I don’t even own any.

Again, this could be a very grown-up feminist thing for me to do (see above), but again the truth is far more boring. I can’t see the point of high heels. They are uncomfortable and I am quite happy with my height (which is very short, for the record). I don’t feel the need to pretend that I am taller.

Of course, there is also the sad truth that I cannot walk in high heels. I tried one memorable Law Ball while I was an undergrad at Uni and the result was quite embarrassing. Added to this is the fact that I have enough trouble finding any shoes in Australia to fit my tiny size 5 feet that I have no reason to add to my burden by trying to find superfluous shoes.

I was informed by many a person that my wedding dress was the kind of dress that (apparently) had to be worn with high heels. My response? I wore sparkly green slippers. Yes I did. (I told you that I am a child).

3. I hate wine and beer. Honestly they both taste like crap to me (unless the wine has sparkles in it, then I like it – seeing a theme yet?).

I used to think that my taste buds would mature one day and I would enjoy the taste of these drinks, but this simply has not happened. I really can’t stand them. I think wine tastes like vinegar. Fortunately, P isn’t much of a drinker and I have realised that I really don’t care. Wine is bloody expensive and I am quite glad not to have something else to spend my money on.

4. I still laugh at toilet humour – every single time.

This makes it basically impossible for me to raise my daughter to behave appropriately. I have been forced to leave this for P because, well, I am a child.

5. I like to go to bed before 9pm.

For the past three years I have gone to bed with Lily. Rarely has this been much of a burden. I like to sleep and I like to get up early.

6. My emotions are extremely easily manipulated my media.

I cry during Kleenex commercials because the puppy is so soft. I cannot watch scary movies because I get too scared (and have nightmares). I sob inconsolably during sad movies and television programs. It is quite pathetic really.

The odd thing is that my mother has never really been a typical adult (woman) either. She has never worn make-up or high heels (though probably for more ideologically sound reasons than me) and she is impulsive and has a child-like enthusiasm for life that has always amused me. I used to introduce her to people as ‘my mother the teenager’. So I wonder why I thought that I would grow up to be more ‘mature’? Where did I get these crazy ideas from?

How about you? Are you surprised by the kind of adult you have become? Has your idea of ‘being an adult’ changed now that you are one?

Bagels!

We made bagels! From scratch. How cool is that?

I developed a love of bagels while living in the States as a teenager. When I first got back to Canberra there was absolutely nowhere that you could buy bagels here. Sometimes a cafe would purport to sell bagel sandwiches and each and every time they would turn out to be bread rolls with holes in the middle. So disappointing.

Over the last few years my bagel cravings have been well satisfied by the bagels from That Bagel Place, who sell their wares at the Farmers Markets on Saturdays. However, they aren't cheap (they are over $1 each) and, when I saw this post over a Angry Chicken, I though hey making our own would be heaps cheaper and also very cool.

As it turns out they are ridiculously easy. I used this recipe - as recommended by Amy - although I used a combination of plain wholemeal and plain flour rather than bread flour 'cause that's what we had on hand. Also, they took less time in our oven than the recipe suggests, so I'd recommend just playing by ear the first time and checking them regularly after the first 5 minutes.

I should also add that Australian baking paper is a lot thinner than US parchment paper and you'd be better off just greasing your baking sheets really well. Otherwise you might end up having to pick the paper off the bottom of your bagels like us...

So, Australia finally has a woman for PM

Yay.

I really want to feel happy about this and, I must admit, on some level I do. It really is nice to know that no matter what happens now Australia will have had a woman at the top – and one that doesn’t fit all the typical patriarchal requirements too. Deveny is right; no matter what else, it is nice to know that it is possible.

But, honestly, I feel deeply ambivalent about this. So much of the how’s and why’s worry me and I am really not particularly impressed with Gillard herself.
First the how’s and why’s: to me this very sudden change of leadership was motivated by all the wrong principles. It was personality-poll-driven; it was Murdoch media-driven; it was big mining-driven; and it was partly driven by the NSW Labor Right. I’m worried about the implications of all of these motivating factors for the future of Australian politics. I do not think that any of them represent an enrichment of our democracy.

Next to Gillard herself: I am comforted by the fact that she has a progressive left-wing background. However, during her time in Parliament it is not these progressive values that seem to have been reflected in her behaviour. Her statements on asylum seekers are nothing short of appalling. While I never liked the substance of the ETS, I don’t see anything positive about the fact the she was part of the team that advocated for it to be shelved. And, the way that she dealt with the MySchools negotiations was unimpressive. She was unnecessarily confrontational and unyielding in her so-called ‘negotiations’ with the Teachers' Union and never appeared to actually listen to their perfectly valid concerns. This doesn’t give me a lot of faith in her so-called ‘consultative-style’ that everyone is saying will contrast with Rudd’s admittedly non-consultative approach.

All that said: I will be so very happy to be proven wrong. I’d love for things to improve.

At the end of the day, however, this isn’t my win (so to speak). I am not a supporter of the Labor party and thus their internal affairs are less connected to me than they might be for many others. My main concern in the upcoming election is how well the Greens go. I want a viable, truly progressive, third party alternative for Lily. I’ve given up on the other lot, and a change of leadership hasn’t made any difference to the way I feel.

Half-arsed feminism

Did you see this article in the Australian last weekend? (I must confess that I didn’t. I saw a link to it on Rachel Power’s blog.) It’s an interview with French Academic Elisabeth Badinter, author of “Conflict: The Woman and the Mother.”

Badinter argues that a new “idealised concept of motherhood that elevates concepts of masochism and female sacrifice to unforeseen levels […] is making women across the world feel horribly guilty […and] threatening the gains of decades of feminist struggle for sexual equality”. She blames breastfeeding for keeping women tied down; co-sleeping for depriving couples of their romantic relationship, and especially their sex life; and an excessive focus on healthy natural pregnancies for an emerging tyranny of controlling the bodies and behaviours of pregnant women.

As a solution to this problem Badinter champions what she describes as a ‘nonchalant’ or ‘mediocre’ approach to pregnancy and motherhood; arguing that there should be no pressure on mothers not to smoke and drink during pregnancy; to breastfeed their babies instead of giving them formula, or to avoid placing young children in the care of others in order to resume their intellectual and social lives (and, in this context, she specifically mentions nannies and state-provided childcare, because “Of course men are deficient”).

Now, here’s where it gets tricky…

I must state upfront that I agree with Badinter’s argument that this current obsession with forcing women to live up to the ideal of the ‘perfect mother’ is regressive and is setting women back a long way in terms of our ongoing struggle for equality. I loathe the repeated attempts to control the bodies of pregnant women, to guilt trip mothers who choose not to breastfeed their babies, or to make women who make use of childcare feel inadequate. However (and there had to be a however, didn’t there?), I really think that Badinter is being fundamentally lazy in her analysis of both the roots of the problem and the solution. She is succumbing to what I call “half-arsed feminist analysis.”

Feminism, at its core, is a critique of patriarchy. It is a critique of a social system that is completely designed around the needs of men (or, at least, some types of men…). The most obvious problem with a social system that is completely designed around the needs of men is that women are going to come off second-best. Our needs are necessarily going to be sacrificed in order to ensure that men get priority.

Where I think that Badinter gets it completely wrong is that in her analysis it is the children – the babies, in fact – that are cast into the role of ‘tyrants’. Now let’s be honest here: if any group under a patriarchal social system comes of worse than women it is children. Children are not the powerful group under patriarchy. In fact, it would be very difficult to imagine any social system that could really allocate such a level of agency and power to babies. They are, after-all, incredibly vulnerable and powerless by nature. This being the case, it is absurd to attempt to solve the problem of women’s subjugation by downgrading the status of children. To do so is the equivalent of victims finding someone weaker than themselves to pick on in order to make them feel better. It might work, but it is fundamentally wrong. It is also a half-arsed solution to the real problem and the bullying will still continue.

A truly feminist approach to the problem of patriarchy is to tackle the system itself. The fundamental problem is the fact that our social system is designed around the needs and priorities of men (not women, and certainly not children). Therefore, any real, lasting solution can only come from actually challenging the way that the social system is organised. The only lasting (and morally responsible) solution has to come from fundamentally reorganising society.

Now, of course, this is not a simple task and it is not one that will be completed quickly. It has and will continue to take many generations. In the meantime it is quite true that women will continue to suffer from inequality – that is fundamental to the design of patriarchy. Part of the result of this is that when women have children they will be inadequately supported. Many will find it difficult to breastfeed those children while continuing to engage in the world in a way that feels fulfilling and rewarding. Many will find it challenging to provide the kind of family-based nurturing care that babies need in order to really thrive while still maintaining their own sense of identity and still striving to fulfill their own dreams.

This is absolutely unfair and absolutely should change. However, it is not the fault of children and a lasting solution should not involve their sacrifice. A lasting solution should involve reorganising society so that the needs of children can be met without such overwhelming sacrifices from their mothers.

What about those mothers who are caught up in the present arrangement? What about those mothers who are faced with the current reality and want a faster (albeit temporary) solution to their own challenges with pregnancy or motherhood? Well, personally, it is here I do have to agree to a limited extent with Badinter. I do think that these women should be given the latitude to work out their own solutions to these issues. I don’t see why they should have to be martyrs to the cause. It is not their fault that society is arranged the way that it is and they shouldn't be made to feel guilty for not being willing to shoulder all of the burden that it currently places on women (and, especially, mothers).

Let’s not pretend that this is a real solution though. Let’s not pretend that babies and children aren’t currently the sacrificial lambs in this struggle. Most importantly, let’s not lose sight of the real solution by letting patriarchy off the hook and conveniently casting society’s most vulnerable members into the role of ‘tyrants’.

That’s just dishonest. And it’s lazy.

When the sun came out

Winter has truly arrived in Canberra and yesterday was cold. The sky was gray all day and we had several period of the kind of drizzle that leaves you feeling chilled to the bone. Last night, after a day of preschool outside (they do 'Wednesdays in the garden') Lily declared herself to be "bitterly cold" and crawled into bed just to get warm.

Today, however, the sun came back out. The sky is blue and, despite all the leaves we have lost and the general sense of botanical hibernation, the garden seemed full of life. Hopefully we can have some more of this action on the weekend!

The vessel

When I was a child my mother was heavily involved in the anti-nuclear campaign that was very strong within the Australian Peace Movement at the time (the 1980s). One story from those years that has always stuck with me was the experiences of another woman in the movement who decided to try to form a strategic alliance with the pro-life (ie anti-abortion) movement.

A number of people in the anti-nuclear movement had expressed concern that perhaps these people were not the best allies, but this woman believed that, given the overwhelming threat to human life and the very survival of the planet posed by the nuclear arms race, it was worth making bridges wherever you could. I can understand where she was coming from.

Anyway, what do you think happened when this woman approached several pro-life groups about joining the anti-nuclear campaign?

They weren't interested. Not remotely.

The woman in question was understandably surprised. These people put themselves out as being so overwhelmingly concerned with the sanctity of human life that they were campaigning (often violently) for the state to force women to carry to term unwanted (and in some cases dangerous) pregnancies. It was understandable that this woman would think that these same people would be natural allies in the anti-nuclear movement. How many more lives are threatened by nuclear weapons (particularly when you place yourself back in the 1980s into the context of the Cold War)?

Through the course of her conversations with these people it dawned on this woman (who was really very well intentioned, but perhaps a little naive) that the people in the pro-life movement (particularly the central organisers) were far less concerned about the sanctity of human life than they were about controlling women's bodies. It was control rather than life that was at the core of their cause.

It strikes me that this overwhelming concern with controlling women's bodies is an incredibly pervasive one and one that underlies so very many issues that crop up for women in public policy debates. This is particularly so when those women are 'mothers', but it also applies very strongly to the bodies of young women. Look at the politics of female beauty, the politics of female sexuality, the blaming of rape victims (for placing their female bodies in vulnerable situations), and the politics of breastfeeding, just to name a handful.

Over the weekend I attended a baby shower and several of us pregnant women chose to have a bit of champagne while toasting the woman in question. It naturally led to a discussion of the issue of drinking while pregnant. We discussed the complete lack of evidence for the claims that tiny amounts of alcohol cause harm to the unborn child (thanks Blue Milk for the link), and how frustrating it is that despite this fact so many people feel entitled to police the behaviour of pregnant women in relation to their consumption of not only alcohol but also any foods that might in some way pose a risk (soft cheese, fatty foods, caffeine, etc).

This conversation (and others that I have had like it over the last few weeks - everyone in my life is pregnant right now for some reason!) was still in my mind when I saw an ABC news report yesterday entitled, "Mums-to-be ignoring booze rules." The article cites the shocking fact that,

The results reveal that 90 per cent of respondents think alcohol should be avoided while pregnant, however a third of all women surveyed admitted to consuming at least one drink while pregnant or breastfeeding.

One drink while pregnant or breastfeeding! Call in the police.

Then I made the mistake of reading the comments... The litany of mother-blame and the blatant entitlement to control women's bodies that is expressed in those comments is disturbing, but oh so very familiar. Honestly, by the time I'd finished reading through it all I felt too exhausted to blog about it. I am so over this.

But here I am anyway. Maybe someone will read this and bite their tongue next time they want to tell a pregnant woman that she shouldn't put something in her month. Guess what? It's her body! It is not a baby vessel that is collectively owned by society. And, guess what else? She is a grown adult that is perfectly capable of making informed decisions about what she does with her body.

Yes, there are issues when you stray further down the continuum into substance abuse etc and this does create real tensions between the rights of unborn children and their mothers. However, until the over-all focus of this debate is free from the overriding agenda of controlling women's bodies I don't think that we can have a sensible conversation about those more extreme (and frankly very rare) instances.