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Our first little family holiday!

Before we started our family, I absolutely lived for travel and also for my career. We are yet to venture overseas, but we did get passport photos for Master S this week, so that will be on the horizon this Christmas.

As for my career, my approach has changed as I am taking a break from the full-time teaching workforce. I now work from home as a writer. This gives me flexibility, but also some fairly unique opportunities. I enjoy it.

A few months ago, a professional in the area of fertility psychology contacted me to see if I wanted to share some of my own journey at a conference – to tell my story about why I wrote a book, both from an academic perspective and a personal one.

Clinical professionals benefit from hearing about lived experiences intertwined with interdisciplinary research, so I jumped at the chance to provide this.

So, we committed to the just-over-an-hour schlep to the Gold Coast, knowing we’d have a three-and-a-half-month in tow.

And we decided to make a weekend of it.

This is how it all went down….

The week before the conference was scheduled, I organised Granny-Care – my mother – to come over and help with Master S while I packed, ran errands, and organised our food for the weekend. Going anywhere with an infant is certainly an exercise in organisation!

I made list upon list upon list. I cooked and created snacks and meals, packed in an insulated bag. I realised that the car would be so full…….. and the bags would be heavy. But it was worth it, because we had a nice dinner when we stopped en-route for a breastfeed.

We arrived at the Gold Coast at about 8pm on the Friday night. It all went well. Master S even slept in a strange cot, in a strange room, in a strange place…..UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_21f2.jpg

When I arrived at the conference on Saturday, I was included in the whole event. I was able to spend time in conversation with fertility psychologists and other professionals in the field from around Australia. This included many rich conversations with others about resilience, early disclosure for donor-conceived children, and ideas around donor anonymity. I also had the privilege of hearing a presentation by a donor-conceived adult – it was fascinating to hear of her journey.

All of these conversations reinforced the importance of what I advocate for – early disclosure for donor-conceived children, with a range of resources to suit unique family needs and structures. It also enabled me to tell my family’s story of life, and I have so much pride in that.

On Sunday, we spent time as a family – my favourite part of the whole experience. 

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Before I had Master S, people loved to tell me about how my life would change so much. They seemed smug about it, how I would feel limited – how I may even fail to achieve my dreams. 

I have found the opposite is true.

I manage my time better because I’m completing tasks around a tiny human’s napping schedule – I have mastered the art of writing 100 words in 12 minutes (yeah… cat naps happen) and also the art of accepting that some days are more limited on productivity than others because once he’s awake, I am present with him.

The real ‘fire-cracker under my butt’ in using my time wisely is my baby boy.

I keep on going, because I want to contribute to the world he is going to inhabit. I want to be a role model for this child who is watching my every move in this world.

Most of all, I want to model pride, passion, and the pursuit of dreams.

I think that’s worth working for. Even if I get distracted a lot.

Anyway, play time is fun. 

Until next time…. I hope to tell you more about the journey of writing my book!

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You can’t dress a boy in pink! My thoughts on gender and parenting…

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Before I begin….

Sex = Biological assignment of male/female/intersex – made up of characteristics such as genitals, hormones, and chromosomes

Gender = Social identity and expression with relation to masculine/feminine/other tastes or interests… in other words, how a person feels themselves to be (man/woman), and how they show that to the world

Despite how much progress has been made in society’s understanding of everything, gender formation – or the development of the intrinsic experience of how a person feels and expresses themselves in relation to boy/girl/other is still a bit of a mystery.

I very much consider myself a cis-gendered woman, but growing up, I felt like a very boyish girl. That is how I related with my gender identity. See above.

When I was pregnant with my son, there was a theory that we knew the sex of our baby. The clothing items I posted to Facebook didn’t help.

Pink cat socks? Must be a girl! A toddler soccer kit? You didn’t tell me you were having a boy? Actually, we were still placing bets the day before we met our baby – whose sex seems to be a delightful XY variety – time will tell how he relates to that with his gender.

I have never bought into the value of rigid gender stereotyping. I find it limiting that if a child presents as a female at birth, she should be press-ganged into a world of image-conscious dolls and shirts that say ‘I Hate My Thighs!’

I have an even lower opinion of make-up sets for little girls who are still losing milk teeth. I cannot help but wonder if all of this image-conscious advertising contributes to the toxic ‘mean girls’ trend that I keep seeing in my teaching career.

Likewise, I cry a little bit inside whenever I see boys steered away from performing arts in favour of plastic guns and shunning their emotions. ‘Boys will be boys’ has become tangled up with unsavoury attitudes that are not too far separated from these stereotypes and expectations.

It should be no surprise that we don’t limit ourselves to pink or blue.

We certainly get raised eyebrows when our son wears his light pink swaddle or purple tie-dyed t-shirt. More so when we show people his doll’s house (which sits beside his toy car.)

Still, I don’t buy into the idea that his gender identity is so fragile that it could be confused by a t-shirt colour or a toy. Whatever he becomes will always be okay by us and I believe it is our job to model acceptance and openness towards a range of interests.

“It’s just the way it’s always been done, that’s the way we’ll always do it.”

Back in 1995, I was not allowed a Batman cake for my fifth birthday. My mother was worried about what my party guests might think, and so I was given a princess cake. I was squeezed into an uncomfortable dress. I ripped that sucker off as soon as I’d blown out the candles.

I don’t blame my parents – it’s hard to buck traditions, lest you be labelled as ‘confusing the children’ or ‘pushing an agenda.’

It is also easy to think that one scantily-clad doll or toy gun is not going to rattle any child’s cage, but when our young are inundated with media and peer influence, there is no way out – unless a wider range of options are encouraged. Freedom to explore starts at home.

I would love for my child to do ballet lessons AND sports – or for his birthday cake to be anything he likes, superheroes or magical pink unicorns. His toybox is filled with puzzles, trucks, dress-ups, dolls, and LEGO. I don’t automatically reach for the bluest of blues in the clothing aisle, either.

In light of not having a default, people have applauded us for subscribing to ‘gender neutral parenting.’ The occasional person accuses us of ‘turning him gay’ – if that were possible, the opposite – conversion therapy – would have more credibility.

What we espouse is far from neutral – and I do not believe it is an unreasonably radical statement, either. It isn’t about raising a child free from these influences, but with the encouragement to explore in the safe love of two open-minded parents.

After all, I believe that it doesn’t really matter how much you push or police gender expectations either way – children will adopt whatever they feel as comfortable to their identity, and exposing them to a range of interests and tastes sends the message that any of it is fine by us. Conversely, discouraging a child from being their truest self can inflict harm from which they may never completely recover.

He can be whoever he wants to be – free from conditions, assumptions, and toxic limitations.

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Plus, he looks adorable in pink.

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Rumble in the trash jungle – adventures in suburban recycling

I absolutely love being a spend-thrift.

Far from the modern grind-til-you-die attitude, gotta-have-it, spend, spend, spend mentality, I believe that the easiest way to become your richest self is to live below your means – and to acquire less. After all, the greatest assets are time and opportunity, not material belongings.

On this parenthood journey, I want to provide, but also to raise a child who is resourceful, ethical, and an environmental steward.

Not an easy task, but parenthood isn’t.

In the spirit of consume-less, recycle-more, save-more-money, I want to share my experience with Containers for Change. Everyone seems to have an opinion on this newfangled scheme.

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Queensland recently launched Containers for Change to address the low recycling rate. Did you know that around 3 billion beverage containers are discarded every year and they are the second most littered item? Crazy! And kind of shit when you consider that we should theoretically know better in our age of information. 

The way it works is that you sign up online, receive a personal code, and take your empty beverage containers into a depot, preferably in a reusable bag to reduce waste. The depots are quick and effective and will put your empties into a box, count them, and deposit the money into your account.

In drop-off locations, it can take awhile to receive a refund due to differences in collection and sorting times. I find that the depots are the best and easiest. Feedback from others has revealed that some of the sites work differently and are nowhere near as effective. Hopefully, this will be addressed.

Funnily enough, I don’t drink many bottled beverages. I believe that helping the environment is best achieved by reducing one’s consumption (e.g buying better/less.) So how do I generate recycling, to earn the refunds? And what am I spending it on? 

Glad you asked. Since giving birth nearly a month ago, I have started to walk around the neighbourhood again. I start my morning by expressing milk and then setting out for my walk while Natalie and The Boy are still snoozing.

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Aw, yes. 10c! Come to Mama! Note – it did not ‘come to Mama.’ I had to get my socks and shoes wet. Whatever!

I take an enviro-bag and keep my eyes peeled for discarded empties. My route covers a walking path behind The Gap High School, and sometimes if there are empties close to the fence line, I can poke a stick through and retrieve them.

On the way, there is a creek that collects the occasional empty can. I have no issue with getting my feet wet to swipe them – the obvious benefit is that this is removing trash from a natural habitat.

On my way back, I go past the shopping centre. There are spots where employees sit for their smoko. One guy has the same iced coffee every day and leaves it on top of the bin. I swipe it (and then use hand sanitiser.) Occasionally, he’ll still be drinking it when I walk past. I lay low and resist the urge to say, ‘You done, or…’

His trash is my treasure. 10c, ka-ching! Waste not, want not.

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This is just one morning – 7.5km route, The Gap, Brisbane. You kind of wish that people would be less disgusting, but that will never happen.

Then, there is bin diving. I don’t feel comfortable digging through bins at random homes, but given that I live in an apartment block, I can often collect other people’s empties if I ask.

As for the money? We deposit the refunds into an account we started before our son was born. The magical trash collections will go towards what we already put aside to allow him to be debt-free and educated in the future.

Obviously, the scheme isn’t perfect and it is far from a catch-all solution for waste, but if it encourages people to recycle and pick up litter, then it is a step in the right direction.

And it’s putting The Boy through college. Win-win.

 

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Have yourself a critically-thinking Christmas – or, why I bat for Team Santa

As an adult, my excitement towards Christmas has been limited to one of two activities:

1. Teaching my students how to make crafts for loved ones

and

2. Pressing all of the toys at Kmart and then walking away, creating an annoying canon of Christmas carols

I also work with my loved ones (my parents and my wife) to throw together some donation baskets for various animal rescues and family charities. Other than that, I tend to leave the country, so I miss a lot of the Christmas hype. Being grown-ass adults, we also don’t bother with gifts.

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As a child, I had a few short, sweet years where I believed there was a Santa Claus. I eventually had doubts – after all, why would an altruistic flying dude with a sack fail to address world hunger if he could deliver a bunch of stuff to kids every year?

I also questioned the plausibility of the physics, but it was good fun while it lasted. One of my best memories was when my brother and I received a game to share – Key to the Kingdom. Best 1990s board game, ever. Also, when we received a Yo-Ho Diablo, also to share. I can never remember having as much fun with a toy as when we took that bad boy into primary school and showed off all our tricks.

Santa must have known how much we wanted those particular toys…. right?

Now that we are about to give birth, I am noticing that there are two distinct teams – Team Santa and Team Critical ThinkingThe former love to take their children through the Santa stories, leaving carrots out for the reindeer. They’ll claim that at least one of the presents beneath the tree has been delivered by Santa. The latter consider themselves to be critical thinkers and shun the idea of propagating any ‘lies’ with their children because they want to foster intellect in their progeny.

Excuse me while I vomit. 

While these types wish to endow their child with thinking prowess, they fail to acknowledge one vital caveat; there has been limited research to support their assertion. That is to say, their rejection of Santa Claus on the basis of it disrupting critical thought development is mostly anecdotal conjecture. To which I give a resounding…. citation required. 

You would think that the first place a critical thinking parent would go to form their views would be research, but peer-reviewed articles to support the Anti-Santa viewpoint largely do not exist – like Santa himself.

What does exist is a significant body of research on development that points to the unequivocal benefits of pretend play and imagination. Children who engage in this form of play by themselves and with others develop a greater capacity for cognitive flexibility and creativity.

Busting the Santa Myth using burgeoning critical reasoning skills actually paves the way for cognitive development that will later be beneficial for persuasion, problem-solving, and innovative activities (like robotics!)

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It is generally a short-lived myth, but while children believe, it can provide magic and positivity – from the sharing of stories, the anticipation of writing letters to Santa, and the excitement of receiving a gift. I personally draw the line at using Santa to control behaviour – be good or you won’t get anything from Santa! After all, managing behaviour is the job of parents – but there are no clauses in the handbook that say you need to use Santa in that way, and it probably won’t do any lasting harm.

Once the child begins to work through the myth themselves, that is when the real magic begins, because you can then appoint them as Santa’s Helper – a child who has figured it all out themselves, but who has a special role in protecting it for younger siblings and friends. Children who have lived Santa’s magic might relate to keeping it alive for others, but children who have always heard the Santa myth shunned will likely struggle to develop this empathy.

I have met many families who squash the Santa myth before their child is ever able to believe. Far from developing critical thought, what tends to happen is an uncomfortable sense of intellectual and moral superiority from the mouths of babes.

“Only BABIES believe in Santa Claus. You must be STUPID.” 

You can imagine how pleasant these children are.

I received the short-lived joy of Santa as a child. I am critically rigorous of any viewpoint as an adult, to the point where it annoys the people who love me because I won’t accept any poppycock at face value. That is to say – yep, I’m not fun at parties!

Yes, that is an anecdote with a sample size of 1, but I think you’ll find the rigour of figuring Santa out is more beneficial for a child than begrudging them the experience in the name of ‘critical thinking.’

Ooh-la-la.

Let them eat cake – and leave some out for the big guy, too. 

Merry Christmas, happy holidays, or whatever you relate to! May this season be a time of safety and love for you and yours.

shallow focus photo of Merry Xmas LED signage

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Active birthing classes with Mummy and Co – they’re pretty awesome

When I first became pregnant, the most immediate thing I noticed (after the initial celebration) was the amount of advice I was given. People who know me well, gave me incredibly pragmatic advice – which kinds of baby outfits are best for nappy changes, how to sterilise and soak a cloth nappy, where to go to get a car seat fitted, among many other practical strategies. These were useful and I took note of all of them.

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The next most frequent topic was antenatal classes. Advice was clearly divided into two very firm positions; some people had left these classes in tears, and others told me that they were an absolute must. So I did some research, and many of the hospital-provided programs didn’t appeal to us.

The most concerning thing for us as a same-sex couple was the discussion of sex and contraception, which I felt was irrelevant to us. I also worried about this being a safe space for our family. Although most people are quite inclusive, particularly around where we live, I had heard about same-sex couples feeling very uncomfortable in some of these spaces. So I let it go. We didn’t sign up.

My pregnancy massage therapist, Blossoms and Honeybees suggested that we should opt for an active birthing class with Liz Lush (Mummy & Co), a physiotherapist in Brisbane. It seemed to focus more on the labour and empowering the support person with a toolbox of skills to use in pain management.

Far from being an uncomfortable space, Liz took us through exactly what labour would be like – how it starts, how it progresses, and what can be done at each stage. She also spoke about the various interventions, when they are used, and how to advocate for or against certain procedures when there is an opportunity for choice.

After this, Liz took us through specific strategies that could help distract us from pain. We practised these while tightly holding cubes of ice (because although it’s nothing on labour, it gives you an idea of what your tolerance levels are for certain kinds of contact during feeling of pain.)

Through this process, I was able to establish that I really do not like close contact when pain or discomfort is at a peak, but I do like heavy pressure on my back and stomach in between. Liz showed us specific ways of achieving this and which massage strategies would provide me with comfort. My wife was then able to attempt it and receive feedback on her technique. Overall, I highly recommend receiving pregnancy massage from a specialised therapist, which I plan to blog about next time, as well as shopping around for birth preparation classes. Everyone does it differently and gets different results, but we were very happy with the care we have received from both Blossoms and Honeybees and Mummy and Co.

Now…. along with all the useful strategies we learned… we also had the opportunity to learn some Pinterest-worthy mantras for birth. Normally, I dismiss a lot of #inspo as platitudes and fluff, but you’d be amazed at how powerful words of affirmation are when you’re about to embark on such a primal journey! It is pretty miraculous, what we are capable of… 

 

Image sourced from 10 Things Yoga Mama

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IVF’s 40th birthday

This coming week, IVF turns 40. It’s hard to believe that such a delicate, yet widely used technology could have had its beginnings in the 1970s – but alas, the first IVF baby was born on July 25th, 1978. Can you believe it?

Not only has the technology come a long way, the attitudes of the general public towards conception via assistive reproductive technology have progressed. Although some people are still uncomfortable with the idea of human eggs being fertilised outside of the body, sometimes with donor sperm, this reproductive technology has made it possible for millions of people to become parents who may not have been able to otherwise, and many people support this. Even with some of the medical complexities at play, IVF can still be a successful and accepted treatment.

To celebrate, I am offering a 10% discount for purchases of my book, One in Many Millions, until the end of this week. Use the code ‘ivfjourney’ at the checkout. 

 

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Sorry for my absence – big news…

For those of you who have been following me for awhile, you will have noticed that I have been in hiding for a few months. On the 28th of March, we went in for our first IVF transfer with one of the embryos that was created in 2016 using donor sperm. At the time of writing, I am 14 weeks and 5 days pregnant! Now that I am beginning to get some energy back, I would love to share my story with you – hopefully it can help someone in the same situation, or at least provide some insight.

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May/June 2016 

Our IVF journey started almost two years ago. The egg pickup was not overly successful, but we did get two embryos – one BC and one CC grade. These grades refer to the viability, rather than the health of the baby or its genes. I still attribute the small harvest to the high stress level I was experiencing at the time, but that’s a story for another day. Those embryos were put on ice for later use, and I started looking for another job. I changed jobs twice before starting the next step. I knew I had to be 100% confident with how I would be supported at work, in case the whole thing dragged out. Even though I was not ‘medically infertile’, I still had an irregular cycle and endometriosis to contend with, which can create challenges in trying to conceive. To put all of that aside, mental anguish on top of IVF isn’t helpful in the slightest.

March 28th – 2018 

The 28th of March was THE DAY. On the morning of my transfer, I had the biggest craving for baked beans on toast, which I gave in to. Prior to the transfer, I had mad cravings for sushi and Easter Eggs. It was the last week of school, so the Easter Eggs were not in short supply. I blame the steroids. I also spent a lot of time meditating to music and having massages with a fertility specialist. On the day of the transfer, my embryo’s placenta had ‘upgraded’ to BB, which was a sign of things to come. The whole process took about 2 minutes, in which I became so emotionally moved that I burst into tears – a good moment when you’re spread legged on the operating table.

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March 29th – 2018 

This was the last day of the school term. More Easter Eggs were consumed and we left Brisbane for Cairns on a night flight.

March 30th – Early April 

When we arrived in Cairns, we spent time truly vegging out, eating kipfler potatoes, spending time at waterfalls with our friends and trying not to think about the fact that we may be pregnant. The 1st of April was Easter and also my birthday, which was the day that I felt the embryo implant into my uterine wall. A few days later, I did what I said I wouldn’t do and took a home pregnancy test. Two lines appeared. I had doubts that it had worked and chalked up the positive result to Pregnyl injections. Later in the month, I went for my first HCG blood test, which confirmed that I was in fact pregnant. We then had an ultrasound.IMG_0749

For now? 

I am absolutely shattered – completely exhausted. Somehow, I am keeping my busy life together on a golden thread. I am still teaching every day. On top of that, I have been completing extra study, but spending roughly 12-14 hours in bed every day, which feels most unhealthy. I finished prednisone steroids, which I’m glad about. Those steroids involved some low moments of sitting in the Hungry Jack’s car park with thick cut fries of an afternoon. Never again!

In other news, we are so happy and proud to be welcoming Baby Miles in December 2018. My little secret is that I was barefoot and pregnant at the wedding…. don’t tell anyone! A tight dress gives nothing away….

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Let them eat cake – Mother’s Day, in families with two Mums

“Happy Mother’s Day!”Around this time of year, the shops are brightened with pink cards, soaps, and boxes of chocolate. It is the day set aside to acknowledge and celebrate the motherhood journey and the unique sacrifices that parents make in the pursuit of greater things – the wellbeing of their children.

Bouquet of purple and orange tulips on a table with a note reading "love" in cursive

I have always wanted children. Like many little girls, this was a desire that started in early childhood, when I first practised caring for dolls in my preschool’s doll hospital. When I first started telling people that I wanted to start a family, one of the first questions people would ask was, “How are you going to do Mother’s Day, if your child has two Mums?” Of all the questions that could create understanding and empathy towards others, this was one that a lot of people seemed to think about first. These conversations sometimes became a lot less tactful when, “And what about Father’s Day?” was dropped on to the end of the conversation, usually through smug crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

During the plebiscite, many no-voters fixated on the idea that some stores were starting to stock cakes to celebrate special people in the lives of children, not just mothers and fathers. Far from being a slight against the traditional family, I feel that no-one should begrudge a child of the opportunity to be proud of the people they call parents or role models. It takes a special type to be incensed about beautifully decorated confectionary and positive relationships. So, how exactly will we let our child eat cake? We have already creatively considered it.

Our family will always be unique on Mother’s and Father’s Day in that we have two of one and none of the other. We both have different roles in our relationship, but equally desire to be fully involved parents. I have chosen to be the bearer of our child and to stay home for awhile to get the most out of the precious first years, but I do not believe that this negates or lessens my wife’s role as a parent. We will both be there to cut up lunches, provide cuddles, read bedtime stories, placate during tantrums, encourage, plug in seatbelts, apply band aids, make sure they wear sunscreen, and of course, pay the bills. My wife and I are a team, and she has been there through every high and low of IVF treatment and will continue to be there for every bump and every milestone in our child’s life. Everyone chooses to approach this differently, but in our lives, we feel that we have both put in the hard yards as parents and we both want our very own day to celebrate with breakfast in bed.

So, how will we approach the inevitable Father’s Day crafts at school? When you consider the length of childhood, a few activities in the classroom are unlikely to upset the applecart of a child who has grown up with loving parents. I am not worried that my child will be ostracised or feel left out because other children are celebrating their fathers, nor would I begrudge other children of their pride. As a teacher myself, I know that it is not all that difficult to track down some craft ideas that I can send to school with my child so they can use Father’s Day as a second Mother’s Day. I have worked with many children who do not have a father in their lives for a range of reasons; if we do decide to do Father’s Day crafts, I come up with an alternative or make contact with the parents to see how they would like it approached. Some children whose fathers have passed still celebrate Father’s Day as part of their grieving. A little bit of sensitivity and pragmatic planning can go a long way – as well as a good Pinterest board.

I have asked other families with two mothers how they approach this occasion. Some have a Mother’s Day extravaganza for both Mums, with Father’s Day being used to celebrate other special people in the child’s life (aunts, uncles, grandparents, family friends). Some people have relationships with their donor, which they celebrate with their children. After all, it doesn’t really matter how people spend their days, but it is important to show gratitude to the people who love and edify our children. After all, it takes a village to raise a child.

As well as having two mums and two Mothers’s Day, our child also has the benefit of grandparents. Through our relationships with our own parents, our child will one day see the role that our own mothers and fathers have played and be able celebrate their love for their grandparents on Grandparent’s Day. On days such as these, I have seen children share their grandparents with others at school whose special relations have passed or live far away. The compassion that children naturally have in being able to see families at face value is strikingly different to the questioning adult’s desire to have everything fit neatly into the heteronormative status quo box.

I believe that is the key difference between the traditional, nuclear family of times past and the modern family; we have more diverse families that are not just defined by gender or biology. A family can be made up of many different people who contribute to the love that children need to grow up strong. Celebrating Mother’s Day and Father’s Day to extend thanks to these people does not set out to destroy the family unit, it instead serves to strengthen real families that exist. Just like people who are not religious still celebrate Easter with chocolate eggs, I reserve the right to celebrate our Mother’s Days over two days in the year. I am looking forward to the day when I can open hand-made cards over a spread of smashed avocado made with love. As for the children? Let them eat cake!

A chocolate covered bundt birthday cake with coloured candy and candles on top

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Girls and magazines – why Teen Breathe is a breath of fresh air

Our children are exposed to advertising from early childhood, and it comes full force from multiple outlets, including television, social media, and magazines. Some of the messages contained within contribute to negative self-concept. The ultimate goal of advertisers is to turn our children into lifelong spenders who will buy all the products that will mitigate the insecurity created by this bombardment of false images and ideals. In a nutshell:

  • Many young children believe that if they don’t have certain brand name clothes, they will be ‘losers’ who can’t join the ranks of successful adults in the future
  • Children are exposed to products that are age-inappropriate – items that are linked to body image and adult ideas
  • Some television shows and magazines market ‘sexiness’ to sell their products to children, which puts pressure on them to dress or act in ways that may be inappropriate

I found great discussion of research on this topic in Consuming Innocence by Dr. Karen Brooks. You can buy it here or borrow it from the State Library of Queensland here.

Exposure to toxic ideas about body image have a cumulative effect on young girls, particularly in the way that they view their worthiness in relation to what they own and how they look. A lot of people will say, “Oh well, that is just the world. advertising is ubiquitous, there is nothing we can do.” It is not about shielding our kids; far from it. It is about educating ourselves to understand what we are saying yes (or no) to, helping our children to become savvier consumers, and selecting more resources that provide positive images. It is about taking responsibility for being smarter consumers of media. 

Image may contain: 5 people, people smilingAfter reading this book, I went to my local news agent to observe the situation that was being described. I was shocked to see these images, marketed to tweens (7-12 year olds!!) The magazine covers were thick with heavily made-up celebrities and products related to body image.

With that in mind, I did a little bit of research and came across a gem called Teen Breathe. This publication provides an excellent array of content for girls, aimed towards the late tween and teen age group. Many of the articles are about emotional awareness, self-confidence, dealing with social issues positively, stories from around the world, and craft ideas.

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The whole publication contains modern designs that are appealing to look at, with a glaring absence of heavily made-up, photoshopped models. The magazine encourages girls to be happy, be brave, be kind, and be themselves. You can buy the magazine here and at selected news agents.

I know that the constant barrage of advertising is overwhelming and it’s impossible to drown out completely, but the children we work with and love deserve messages that go against the toxic grain of mass media. The buck stops with us – we can encourage positivity and self-care through what we put on our bookshelves or give as gifts. 

A child holds a picture of puckered lips in front of her face in Sliedrecht

I think the confidence and strength of our girls is worth standing up for – and voting for with our wallets – don’t you think? If we know better, we can do better.