Stuff. 

Stuff stuffs me up. It steals time, patience, energy and joy from my day. So we cut down. I pared back the “stuff” on offer so Small isn’t overwhelmed by choice and I’m not overwhelmed by wading through crap that’s been chucked aside after five minutes. And then I realized that my wardrobe was the same disaster, just in a much smaller area. My makeup? Same godawful chaos, and every single day this costs me time I don’t have. Enter the life changing magic of tidying up. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but essentially the part that saved me was this: 

• Pick the thing up.
• Study it.
• Does it spark joy? (Not a memory of joy, or a this might be useful in the future!, but actual YES! I LOVE THIS THING!)
• If yes, make a home for it. 
• If no, thank it and dispose of it. 

That’s the basic tenet. There is much more useful advice, especially to help you make order and sense of what you DO have or want to keep, but at its heart this helped me cut the crap. Recognize my attachments to “stuff” AND get to an existence that spends less time moving things I don’t particularly want, need or use from point A to B to C while placating my child with “I’ll just be a second!” and feeling guilty that I STILL haven’t knitted that blanket/altered that dress/sorted those toys. Suddenly, leaving the house is faster just because the things we NEED to facilitate that are all ordered, accessible and THERE, not hiding among three other pairs of small boots that don’t quite fit, or smushed between two sweaters I haven’t worn since uni.

I can just…

Let go. 

Now, if there’s a secret to mastering the million pieces of lego…

If you want to read the book, I highly recommend the kindle version; it’ll be one less piece of stuff to organise! 

Yep. Baby Led Weaning.

Save your ice trays for…..ice, keep the blender for smoothies and post- breastfeeding margaritas, and keep pureed apples for Sunday roast.

Now, pay attention while I rock your world.

Babies.Don’t.Need.Mushy.Food.

I know, right? mind blown.

When you wait for the 6 month mark, as recommended by the World Health Organization, you can go straight to family foods and feed baby straight from your plate. You’ll want baby to be sitting independently, and you’ll be good to start when baby has lost the tongue thrust reflex (you know when they thrust food out of their mouth with their tongue?). Other signs include baby intently watching you eat and perhaps reaching for you food.

The underlying premise sits well with me. By ditching the mush and spoons and opting for family foods, steamed veg, soft meat and so on, you are letting BABY set the pace. You are trusting your baby to experiment with food and texture and to eat as little or as much as she wants. It is respectful, it is kind. You are being sensitive and mindful to your baby’s needs. You are treating your baby as a person with feelings and desires of their own. I like this. It’s how I want to raise my kids.

Proponents of Baby Led Weaning believe it encourages children to taste, see, feel and smell a range of different foods. Think of it as nutritious sensory play! They believe it diminishes the likelihood of fussy eating and mealtime fights, too. Perhaps you’ll find your small eating more because they have the same cuisine as the adults. If you are guided by your child, you won’t force them to ‘clean their plate’, or eat when they aren’t hungry and kids won’t learn that they can have ‘special kids food’, because let’s face it….restaurant meals for children are rarely special! There’s the additional benefit of encouraging independence and of course all that extra practice co-ordinating hand and eye movements. Sounds great, right?

But what about choking?

We go to great lengths to keep our smalls safe and far from risk, so why consider giving them choking-sized pieces of food to PLAY with? If your child is ready, there is little need for concern. Gums are powerful (just ask a mother recovering from nip-lash) and these cute little babies come pre-programmed with a handy gag reflex. Sometimes baby WILL gag on a texture or flavour they don’t like yet. That’s ok. It’s safe because they will spit it up. You are right there next to them to help if required.

What kinds of foods can you give baby?

Unless your child has a risk of allergy, you can start with whatever you are preparing tonight. Follow the guidelines around the introduction of fish, nuts, honey and eggs, but don’t hold back on nasi goreng just because it’s not on the traditional list. You don’t need to worry about choking – those gums are powerful and you are close by should baby need assistance.

You might like to try:

Risotto (loads of different options!)

Roast dinners (soft, juicy meat and well cooked vegetables)

Pasta and noodle dishes (wholegrain pasta and brown rice where possible)

Avocado, seasonal fruits and vegetables

Sushi

Strips of well cooked meat, lamb shanks to suck

Cooked fish (check for bones)

Tofu pieces.

So, now that you’ve shelved your copy of “baby recipes” and thrown the farex where it belongs (in the bin) enjoy prepping ONE meal for everyone, no blenders, Tupperware, plastic cutlery or suction bowls required. What’s not to love about that?!

When I was about twelve, some brilliant dentist decided I had two choices: four teeth pulled, or braces and possible later impaction of wisdom teeth. Well, that seemed like a no-brainer. Braces AND surgery, or four teeth out? I had the two pulled from the left side. Having teeth broken up and extracted, a numb face and a mouth full of blood is reasonably traumatic at any age, I’d postulate.

Going back two weeks later… well, it took three adults to get me in the chair, and I was not a large or even average-sized twelve-year-old. I still remember the sound. A dental drill’s whine is nothing compared to the cracking and grinding of one’s bones, just a couple inches away from your ears, or the godawful splintering and tugging sensation. After the second extraction, I had so much anaesthetic in my face that I chewed a huge chunk out of my lower lip, which took months to heal and left a nice lump of scar tissue just inside the left side of my mouth.

It’s fair to say I loathe the dentist. I’m attempting to make my peace with them and repair my relationship before embarking on deal adventures with my child, so these school holidays have seen me finally seek attention for the cracked wisdom tooth I knew was lurking. This time, thank god, there was much less pain and more … pressure. The terrible, terrible irony? After another x-ray, I’ve been given another choice: have it’s twin pulled or filled. I’m not sure how I’m going to muster the nerve to willingly surrender myself to another extraction and recovery, but apparently this is what growing up means. Think of that, the next time your child is unpleasantly denouncing you as “Not the boss of me!” and smile a little inside, for the delights of car insurance, mortgage repayments and responsibility for dental health are all going to be part of their great and glorious freedom.

Lyn is an authorised retailer for popular brands, including AngelPack, Ergobaby, Hug-a-Bub, Didymos, Girasol and Ellevill, and is generous with her baby wearing expertise in finding each family the carrier(s) that best meet their individual needs. If you just need to freshen up an existing stash for a new family member, you can do that too, with BabyLegs and wrap scrap accessories.

If you aren’t lucky enough to live locally, never fear – everything is shippable within Australia and you can even use her LAYBY service! Hoorah!

Now, because it’s lovely to know such clever and talented people, we have a very, very sweet give-away for you lot: a ring sling converted from Kokadi’s 100% cotton woven wrap Polar Stern (Polar Stars) by clever seamstress and converter Shishkebab, a lush rainbow crochet/oak teething necklace by KangarooCare, and just as an awesome bonus for summer, a little pot of divinely vanilla-scented Mozi Balm!

As you can see, I’ve had a bit of a play with the ring sling and it’s fantastic; impeccable work on the conversion (thanks Shishkebab!) and a fully reversible gathered shoulder, so you can wear it green side out or purple, whatever takes your fancy. Of course it’s been manufactured using industry-tested sling rings (no, you can’t just grab any old rings from the hardware aisle…) and boasts triple-stitched seams at the shoulder for safety.  Kokadi cotton wraps get delightfully soft and squishy with a little washing and wearing, and while this sling stood up to my 12kg 2.5 yo nicely, it would be utterly divine with a new baby.

I’ll stop waffling and let you enter, shall I? Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

The six weeks after Audrey’s birth were hard. I’m used to being fit. I’m used to having decent stamina, and the fact that I danced all the way through my pregnancy, worked until the day before I was induced, and was swing dancing 36 weeks pregnant… Cabin fever doesn’t even describe.

Being able to snuggle the baby chicken (well, she was about the size of a large roast) and walk the jitters out was imperative for my mental health. I missed mothers’ group (they called to see where I was) because we were out walking. I simply felt that sitting in a warm room for a couple hours might actually make my head explode.

I realise that I could easily have popped Audrey in a pram to do this. That’s why jogging prams are made (for older babies), for heaven’s sake. But this worked for us. Having her bounce happily on my back let me go back to work, and have some ‘me’ time at the studio without having to constantly juggle childcare and choreography. This is old news now – kangatraining, babywearing ballet, babywearing yoga are all becoming more popular options – but two years ago I felt a bit special

Wednesdays are Daddy’s day in our house, because I do work outside the home all day. I often come home to the story of grazed knees and the wrap that saved the day on the walk home from the park, or the feeding-ducks excursion that required Ahoi.

The beach walks we enjoy are made easy by a wrap, and the relative freedom to hike and walk anywhere we please even when small legs are tired has been a blessing. Work it out… well, we did.

Yeah. All those people. The venue was accommodating and delightful, Girl Friday and Huckleberry pulled together fantastic goodie bags and balloons, there were vouchers and books and goodies galore, my mum took photos and cuddled babies while newcomers yanked on wraps, we fought (gently) over demo dolls and drew door prizes and raffle prizes and raised enough money to add a Tula to our group library and it was GREAT.

 Maybe the best part was seeing all those parents and carers in one space and realising that a couple years ago this type of community didn’t really exist down our way. That wearing a child was a novelty and non-ergonomic carriers were the popular option. That a few women banding together have made a space for parents (mostly mums) to come get help and share experience, and that people are gaining skills they can pass onto friends;

-here, borrow my stretchy, it was great when we got home from hospital.

-here, take this ring sling, it was SO good when she was teething and I couldn’t get her to sleep any other way.

-here, you want to borrow? This saved my life when I was camping/on my own/just existing from day-to-day.

I think it’s partly why I started Keep Calm and Carry Them. Motherhood has not come easily to me. Pregnancy was weird. Birth was… all wrong. The early days with a tiny, tiny vulnerable human who was SO fragile that I cried when I put her in a pram nearly broke me. I started carrying her because I couldn’t bear NOT to. She spent the first four months throwing up and I spent it researching and obsessing and grieving. (Which sounds ridiculous, since I have a lovely husband, a mostly healthy child, and in the grand scheme of things, NOTHING to whinge about.)

Finding wrapping gave me something to do. I could hold her, so I could tend to my students and my employment. I could hold her, so she wasn’t miserable and screaming on her back or in the rocker or on her tummy. I could breathe again.

(Let’s be clear – I’m far from a perfect parent, but wrapping and wearing has given me a touchstone. It grounds both of us, clears the red mist, reassures me that I can do SOMETHING right. Even on my days where every second thing is wrong, I am doing something right when my baby snuggles in and we breathe together and I finally -exhale.)

When I started to come out of the fog I just wanted everyone to know this wonderful thing had saved me and given me something to hang on to. That’s why I post pictures every day, and keep shouting out. That’s why I want to give carriers away and get everyone to find the best fit for them. That’s why I’m so grateful that so many businesses hopped on board to validate our identity as a group and make it possible for us to CELEBRATE our community.

Thank you to everyone who contributed – their valuable time, their services, their goods – and selfishly, thank you to all the people who have made my babywearing journey possible. This may be the most satisfying challenge to my geekery yet.

We don’t have a TV, so it’s easy to monitor viewing and be sure that nothing ‘too scary’ or age-inappropriate sneaks through (onscreen, anyway)… but I’m completely guilty of sitting and watching Playschool WITH Small rather than doing other stuff just to remind myself how to craft and jump around like an idiot  highly enthusiastic presenter being paid for said enthusiasm.

So far, so good. The kid is developing interests and skills, I’m being reminded of said interests and skills… but at what cost to me? Journalist Margaret K. Nelson interviewed nearly 100 parents for her own research on modern parenting practices. The results saw her declare “I’m more worried about the mothers… And among the affluent parents who take similar approaches to child-rearing, TV is just the beginning. The same kind of intense, highly personalized care goes into overseeing children’s computer use, friendships, extracurricular activities and, above all, schoolwork.”

She cites a recent study of 300 college freshmen by Neil Montgomery (psychologist at Keene State College), which found that students with helicopter parents (comprising 10 percent of those surveyed) “were more dependent, more neurotic and less open than other students.”  Barbara Hofer (psychologist at Middlebury College), reported a connection between the frequency with which Middlebury students communicate with their parents and their dependency on their parents.

It’s always great to kick off a ‘relaxing’ break with 30 hours of travel. (NB: I never entertained any delusions of ‘relaxing’. I’ll leave the authorship of that concept up to you…) Think of this something like “We’re going on a Bear Hunt”. When you don’t sleep for the two nights preceding it’s even better. When the airline brings you a gluten-free meal but brings your gluten-free child a KID’S MEAL (because HEY, she’s a CHILD and clearly that takes precedence over DIETARY ISSUES) and allllllll your child wants to do for three flights is “Mama. Mama. Mo. [milk] Side. Side, mama. Mo!” while clawing at you with her adorably small and less adorably sharp-tipped fingers (the saving grace: she calls them “fingies”) the party just never ends.

Truly.

Let’s add ANOTHER variable: exposure to chicken pox in it’s contagious stages the week before flights, which wouldn’t faze me (hey, they all have to get it at SOME stage) except we’re on our way to spend three weeks with family and selfishly, I don’t want to spend my three weeks abroad in a sickroom… So when my darling clawed monster breaks out in red rashy patches four hours into the flight, I have NFI if it’s the minestrone she ate at my parents’ house (that POSSIBLY had risoni in it) or chicken pox.

Awesome.

But it’s ok, because the 30 hours of no sleep is about to end. We’re about to touch down and it’s 9pm Sudbury time. I’ve never been more ready to sleep in my life. Small falls asleep in my arms while we sip tea with our hosts (they’ve been amazing, more on that later) and we think YES! We are home free! She hasn’t slept more than two hours at a time, we have this NAILED! (All of you who have travelled internationally with children, shut up. Just stop now. I can hear you snickering.)

1am. “Day!” she insists. 2am I sit on the bed and cry. I’m freaking out that she’ll wake everyone else up. I’m trying to let Michael sleep. I’m dog-tired and when he does sit up to pat my back reassuringly I snarl viciously at him “I TOLD you how hard this was and YOU DIDN’T LISTEN!” before  crying some more. “Mama, sad,” just makes me cry harder.

Wisely, he goes back to sleep.

3am. “Mama, wrap. Up.” The floor creaks. My boobs want to fall off. I want to flay my own décolletage because surely it would be less painful.

4am. We go downstairs to pace for a while. Hey, that’s a nice view across the lake. Pity it’s so dark.

5am. Gee, that’s a really nice view across the lake.

6am. Michael comes downstairs and takes over child duty. I rage silently for a while and stagger upstairs to attempt sleeping.

FOUR NIGHTS and finally, finally she does something resembling ‘real’ sleeping. I never want to go home. I just want to be magically teleported back to Australia, where it will magically be the same freaking time as it is here and my child won’t take most of a week to rediscover her regular sleeping patterns. We’re never going on a holiday again. Uh UH. Ever.