Happiness

Today I was put in "Mommy time-out" when my crazy HulkSMASH children broke yet another thing and my subsequent anger made Keith tell me (lovingly) to go to my room.  I decided to watch some documentaries on happiness in order to improve my mood.

I watched the end of "I AM" which I had watched before.  It's on Netflix and if you haven't watched it I think it's worth the time.  It's by the producer of the Ace Ventura movies who has a fatal run-in and decides to make a documentary about "what's wrong with the world and what can we do about it?".  It has a lot of scholars and scientists including a student of Rumi who I completely fell in love with (Rumi not the scholar although he seems very nice).  This line made me tear up.

Grief is a form of joy...the rose celebrates by falling apart...the clouds celebrate by weeping"- Coleman Barks

Anyway, I watched the end of it again and found it meaningful so thought I would share that for people interested in an inspiring Netflix show.

I also watched the documentary "Happy" which is also on Netflix but was not made by big budget Hollywood so it's a little more dry of a piece but still incredibly interesting.  I have always been intrigued by the idea of communal housing (which they do in Denmark) and there were other interesting insights into the dos and don'ts of happiness.

One uniting theme in both of these films is the idea that money doesn't buy happiness.  Certainly people need money to cover their basic costs of living but beyond that really wealthy people aren't happier than people with more modest incomes.  This is particularly interesting for me as I had always touted myself as someone who isn't that interested in making a lot of money and when people excitedly told Keith that his wife "would eventually make tonnes of money" he would scoff and say that I was unlikely to be that kind of doctor. Don't get me wrong, I am aware that medicine affords a very comfortable lifestyle.  I am well-aware that, especially after residency and fellowship, I will make a good income.  However, I am unlikely to be a top earner in my field.  That was probably always going to be the case but that decision is solidified now that I've chosen to focus my career on pediatric and adolescent gynecology.  I am happy about this choice.  This aspect of OB/GYN fits my gifts and talents like a glove and that has been kindly pointed out to me by patients, parents and colleagues.  Keith has also noticed this seems to be the "right fit".  

I did have some weak moments though.  Before I came to Australia I said that money didn't matter but I watched people with money enjoying some pretty amazing things and wanted to have money too - to reward myself and to prove myself - that the barometer of success is how much you can bill.  Now that I see my strengths slipping seamlessly into this niche I know that the reward is finding something you are passionate about and having the opportunities within that.  That happiness is creating the life you want and that money helps with that but it isn't the yardstick of success.  I can make less money than my colleagues and that is fine, it doesn't make me a less competent physician, it's just not my path to walk.  So Keith, you were right, I'm not the kind of doctor that makes (tonnes of) money.  My heart doesn't live there.  It's scattered at home all over my messy floor, at work with long consultations with kids and teens and in Africa where I hope to reunite with some of it's beating pieces lying in wait for me to repay my life debt.

Those were the musings of my time-out.  

My children were infinitely better behaved in the evening (so was their mother) and I had a fantastic time reading and playing penguin games with Cian while Keith put Emily to bed.  Watching our children grow - that is happiness indeed.  

Worth

I have thought a lot about worthiness in the last few days.  I have done a lot of self-evaluation this year. I thought this time in Australia would be a whirlwind of fun times and silly games and although it has been that I have also done some pretty deep soul-searching on who I am and what is truly important.  It's amazing how deep and wide the blinders get when all you do is work for three years of medical school and five years of residency.  There are pockets in those eight years where I did things outside of medicine but it was like I stopped to tread water for a moment and then was back to my laps, work never far from my mind and the exam that decides my life always at the end of the deep dark tunnel.  This year I'm sitting on the edge of the pool, taking some deep breaths and realizing how many laps I want to do and what else I'd like to do while I'm on this earth.  There's more to that but I'm digressing from my thoughts of worthiness.

Basically I have realized that these years of intense education have shaped me into defining my life and my sense of worth by how smart I am and how good I am at my job.  That is where my worth lies - I'm a good doctor and a really hard worker.  I was not always this way.  It used to be my worthiness was in how vivacious and edgy I could be but over the years my definition of myself has entwined itself with my profession and they have been monogamous bedfellows ever since.

The importance I put on communication skills as highly valuable traits of worth has been greatly challenged by the gifts of my son.  Communication is not his strong suit.  My mistakes as a mother have largely stemmed from my inability to see his other gifts because I kept staring at the hole where I wanted his skill set to be. Even when he was a baby I was excited for him to talk and the conversations we would have.  Cian had other plans.  His gift to me (one of many) has been to open my eyes to all the other people in the world.  People who don't fit in the small pigeon-hole of academia full of endless communicators.  My academic pursuits increased my knowledge of myocytes and neurons and limited my ability to see the ethereal parts of people. I was always aware of the diversity of gifts of other people but not on this level, not with a mother's heart.  I have been so worried that people wouldn't find him worthy of love because of the elements of life he finds hard that come so easily to other people.  Little did I realize that so many people aren't even looking in that general direction.  That all they see is his infectious wide smile and his unbelievable zest for life and excitement about everything - that those things are just as valued and as worthy as my ability to communicate or operate or care for others.  Knowing that in an academic sense is far different to knowing it as truth and now my eyes are starting to open.  In my weak moments when I fear people won't understand or care about my kid I think of our friend Mike who one day turned to Keith and I and said (in a way only Mike Reid can) "Guys, thanks for having Cian!"

I think of that as I look at my patients with fresh eyes.  My patients who face the day with a toolbox full of tools very different from mine.  Tools that unlock hearts in different ways.  Their challenges teach me every day about the importance of vulnerability.   That life is not an endless series of competitions.  We don't always have to line up in some sort of hierarchical fashion.  That our hearts are bigger than we think they are if we just decided to open them without fear.  These kids are the catalysts of that type of living.  Smiles and laughter have value on their own merits. They aren't gateways to different places - they are destinations of beauty all their own.  The achievements of standing or eye contact or breathing can be as victorious as completing medical school or passing the bar exam or winning an Olympic medal.  The victories the world isn't paying attention to are humbling in their magnitude and I feel myself redefining my worth to include the privilege of witnessing these champions and caring for their bodies as they inspire me with their abundant worth.  Worthy of respect.  Worthy of life.  Worthy of family.  Worthy of love.

Emily's Birthday

Yesterday the littlest person in our family turned 2.  Cian woke up at 6am and had to contain his excitement for her to open her gifts and play with balloons for two hours while our little girl decided to choose sleeping in as her birthday resolution.  Once she woke up Cian (very excitedly) showed her the presents and the balloons on her chair and the early morning pictures of rainbows we made for her.  There was a significant discrepancy between the older sibling's level of birthday excitement and the level of excitement of the little one that just woke up.

She opened her presents which she seemed to like - an alphabet puzzle from Cian, a Peppa Pig playdough set from Mom and Dad and a Tinkerbell backpack from Omi and Opa.  Emily's birthday card included an inflatable tinkerbell wand and with all the excitement of the balloons and inflatable wand Cian stepped on it and it broke.  He knew it was bad and all I heard was "pop" and the sound of running footsteps to the timeout spot.  Emily didn't care that her wand didn't inflate anymore because she had lots of things to play with - it was me that was annoyed.  I went to talk to Cian after I had calmed down, even though I was still unreasonably upset about an inflatable toy.  He was very upset and said "I break everything" in between sobs.  Poor kid - he has no clue how strong he is and that is something he has to just figure out on his own.  Emily didn't know anything untoward happened and just went upstairs to check on Cian cause he wasn't downstairs.  I know I have no control over it but I hope they stay close - it's really nice to see.

After breakfast Keith took the kids swimming.  They seemed to have a good time.  At nap time I took Emily upstairs and Keith laid down with Cian because after a morning full of an early start, lots of excitement and swimming we thought we could convince him to have a bit of a nap too (and it worked).  Emily was not so convinced napping was for her and she kept coming out of her room.  She has been able to vault out of her crib for months now rendering it's captivity properties useless.  It often takes several attempts to put her back to sleep with the threat of putting her in her car seat if she doesn't listen.  The car seat sits in the corner of her room as a reminder to stay in her bed.  After many, many attempts to put her back to bed I finally had to make good on my threat and put her in the car seat.  This is when the power struggle finishes and she does not like losing.  After the protest and leaving the room I hear through the door the sad song of defeat "Happy birthday to me..."

The rainy late afternoon was spent lazing around.  Emily crawled into bed with me after her nap to watch a silly sitcom - I like that she likes to watch goofy rom coms with me.  That's our late night activity when she isn't sleeping and needs a cuddle.  When the rain got really heavy Cian and I sat on the front stoop and he stuck his legs out and sang "...dancing in the rain..." it was pretty awesome.

She wanted "meat sticks"(kebabs) for supper and so we had those and Cian and I made fruit kebabs (which the kids called "lollipops") and then the birthday cupcakes.  Emily said she wanted tinkerbell cupcakes which turned out to be chocolate with green ("forest floor") icing in the shape of a 2.  Keith ran out to get candles and after we sang to Emily and she blew them out we realized these were not ordinary candles. Keith looked at the box which read "Magic Relightable candles" - this was very entertaining to all of us.  I've never seen relighting candles so that was great fun.

We put Emily in a big girl bed because the crib is utterly pointless now.  She did not want to go to bed in that either and was still trying to escape long after her brother had fallen asleep.  The "terrible 2's" started with her several months ago as she likes to push boundaries (hence the reason we have a car seat in her room).  I tell myself that her being so strong-willed will hopefully mean she won't be a pushover in the future but for now it's a bit trying.  She did eventually go to sleep though - our Tinkerhulk who's in a huge rush to grow up.  I think she's finally realized she is only turning 2 and not 5 like she has said for several days.

So Happy 2nd Birthday to our little girl.  Your precocious comments make us stifle laughter nearly every day.  I can't believe that so much determination and strength (and volume) can come out of such a tiny body (although not so tiny for 2 year old standards).  I love how much you love to watch clips of major dance scenes from musicals.  I love your unbelievable dance moves and your singing voice.  I feel like you were never interested in being a baby and you're finally excited to get on with all the things you've been wanting to do.  I'm excited to watch you grow and although I'm pretty sure you're going to  be a handful I'm so proud to be your mom.

New Zealand

The original traveling plan was an early flight to Auckland.  Keith was flying the next day as he really wanted to participate in the Magic Grand Pris - a big Magic tournament, the likes of which humble Winnipeg would never see. I spent Friday night preparing stuff for this early flight and then received a phone call at 1230am from the airline saying that our flight was 5 hours delayed.  We had no plans for the first day so this was not a problem.  We then got to the airport a couple of hours early to decrease parental (mostly paternal) anxiety.  My father's anxiety was then further decreased by the 3 or 4 shots of free alcohol he had on his way through duty-free.  Who says that Wild Turkey, Jack Daniels and two kinds of vodka don't go well together at 9:30 am?  Like free shots to a Mennonite so are the days of our lives...

Once we finally boarded the flight was lovely.  Probably the nicest flight I've ever been on and I'm a big fan of South African Airlines so Emirates had some hefty competition.  It didn't hurt that our flight attendant was Canadian and put her hat on Emily and let her be a flight attendant as people deplaned - super cute.

We arrived in Auckland 5 hours later than we thought we would and I had contacted the rental company to let them know and they sent me an email while I was mid-flight to tell me I needed to fill out additional forms to pick up the car after their 7pm closing time.  Of course I didn't get this until I arrived in Auckland.  So there we were in Auckland without the rental car I had rented that had included car seats (so we hadn't brought ours from Australia) and no way to get to Hamilton (1 hour away) where we had rented a room for the night.  Obviously it was a bad idea to leave my lucky Irish horseshoe of a husband at home playing Magic.  We finally rented an expensive station wagon and unbelievably expensive rental car seats for the night from another location (seriously it's possible I could have bought them for that cost) and waited for the rental car people to pick us up.  At this time it was almost 9pm, the kids were exhausted, hungry and cold.  The rental car place finally came and it became apparent that there were two Amanda's waiting for this company, both who had been screwed over by the early closing time of the other company, both waiting for the new company's shuttle and both going to Hamilton.  The other Amanda was very nice to let us go first with our exhausted children - my somewhat intimidating-appearing father probably assisted her in making that choice but that was ok with me.

We got to the rental car location and the rental process was expedited as the other group was waiting.  The night manager didn't seem to know his stuff as well but things got done and my dad started loading the 90s Nissan station wagon while I did the paperwork.  It was loaded stem to stern as my parents had all their luggage plus we had a suitcase and the stroller so it was pretty packed.  Plus, in case anyone hadn't done at the math, there were 5 of us and 5 bum spots.  Two of us legally required preciously expensive tank-sized car seats.  Your internal question should be who had the misfortune of drawing the short straw and sitting in the back seat.  Well, I was the only person allowed to drive by the rental company and I was the only one comfortable driving on the left (especially at night) and my father is 6'4''.  So my poor mother had to fold herself into the back between car seat and booster seat.  We all barely fit burgeoning at the seams in the darkness - no one around to witness our clown car antics as the rental car company guy had gone to pick up the other Amanda.  We were all buckled and I turned the key in the ignition.  Nothing happened. I have many pictures from New Zealand but the one I really wish I could have had was an immediate photograph of the 5 of us exhausted at 1030pm in the abandoned parking lot of the car rental company with a dead station wagon.  I figure it looked something like this...
..

At this point all you can do is laugh and wait for the guy to come back and give you a different station wagon that you pour your family and belongings into and hit the road for Hamilton.

The Hamilton accomodation was quaint and lovely.  The kids were so exhausted we could have put them in cardboard boxes and they would have been happy.  I went between the twin beds sharing half the night with each of my kids until they kicked me in the face and I woke up.  Otherwise I slept quite well.  In the morning we tried out some McDonalds Playplaces on our way back into Auckland to pick up the Magic gatherer.  We picked up the original rental van and returned the cosy station wagon and car seats of desperation all while forever circling the arrivals gate at the international terminal.  This endless Groundhog Day at the Auckland airport was not my favourite part of our vacation.  We finally got the Magic man (he won 4/9 for those of you who are only concerned about his Grand Pris performance - that's probably 2 of you reading this :P)  and we were off to Rotorua.

New Zealand is a stunningly beautiful country.  In fact, I am unclear why anyone would ever emigrate other than it's expensive.  It was a lovely windy drive out to Lake Tarawera where our cabin, the Cheeky Tui, was situated amongst leafy trees and winding vines.  I had done a lot of research to find the perfect place to stay as 3 generations and the cabin exceeded my expectations.  There was lots of space, modern amenities, bright conservatory and a big fenced backyard with a slide, swing and trampoline.  It was a little out of the way but we all needed a little time tucked away from everything for a while.

On Monday, the rest of my family went to the Buried Village (a village that was covered in hot mud when the nearby volcano erupted in the late 1800s) and I stayed in my cosy sunbeam and finished my book.  That night Keith and I went (ON A DATE!) to a Maori cultural evening. Before it started Keith was talking to a girl from Ireland and it turns out she was from Ballygar and got her school uniforms at the Hanley shop (that's Keith's aunt and uncle's shop in a small village) - the world is a small place.  It was really interesting to see a country that seems to have (from a complete outsider perspective) a better relationship between indigenous and non-indigenous people.  They did a great job of showcasing the Maori culture and making people feel very welcome and included.  It was a lovely evening and we felt young again hanging out with the backpacking crowd.

On Tuesday, we were off to Hobbiton.  We are huge nerds and booked in advance as it was something we really wanted to do.  We got up early and drove out to Matamata where the tourist information is designed like a hobbit hole.  Keith popped in to ask directions and Emily (who had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the morning drive) proceeded to projectile vomit three or four times.  Keith was gone for 1.5 minutes and in that time the aroma in the rental van had been transformed to resemble an Irish pub bathroom at closing time.  Poor kid.  And, of course, as parenting luck would have it that day was the ONE day we had forgotten to bring extra clothes.  The ONE day in the last two years.  None of her clothes were salvageable and she was distraught as she's never really thrown up before so in between projectiles she looked at me with eyes saying "What is happening to me???"  Yay for grandparents that bought her new clothes and everything else got cleaned up and we switched our tickets because the idea of a tour bus with a barfy 2 year old sounded like a TERRIBLE idea.  On the drive back she seemed to be infinitely better as she has probably inherited her father's "throw up and feel better" gene.  She was so great that we decided to shuffle our plans and go to the Sheep farm.  I'm not sure why we thought that farm animals would make her feel better than a tour bus but it worked so I won't analyze it in retrospect.

The farm tour was a HUGE hit.  As we arrived there was a 10 day old alpaca walking around that loved Cian and Emily and they LOVED her - super cute.  The tour part is a covered wagon pulled by a big tractor and the kids were vibrating with excitement.  It was better than anticipated because you got to feed the various animals as you toured the farm.  I am a farmer's daughter (that is a true statement for those of you that didn't know) and I have never been so close to a cow.  They came right up to the tractor and we got to see all the different types of cows on the farm.  We then saw and fed sheep and alpacas and saw deer and pigs too.  They also had olive and kiwi groves that we toured through which were really interesting and the kiwi juice and wine were delicious.  The kids were totally enthralled.  After the tour was the show.  They brought out all the different kinds of sheep and it was a super cheesy show but also tonnes of fun.  My dad volunteered and milked a cow (which was sort of cheating as a retired farmer :P)  but the bigger surprise was Cian bravely volunteering and going on stage.  They gave him and other bigger kids big milk bottles and then surprised them with baby animals and Cian fed the lamb.  Afterwards he led the baby animals all the way into the pen on the side of the stage and high-fived the MC of the show.  Super proud mom moment but who wouldn't be proud of this guy.  This was Cian's favourite day.

On Wednesday we had Hobbiton Take 2 and no one threw up!  Emily however decided to share attitude instead of vomit that day.  She was a little grouchy dwarf so I stayed behind most of the tour which seemed to work.  The only thing she really liked were the Hobbit dance at the party tree (she was by far the most enthusiastic dancer) and the drinks at the Green Dragon Inn. A Morris that loves dancing and drinking???? :) For the adults though the whole thing was really interesting.  I've never visited a movie set before but the views were all beautiful (probably because a lighting designer arranged it) and they had done a great job of Bag End and the Green Dragon Inn.  It was also icing on the cake that they give you a beer to enjoy at the end of the tour (Ginger beer for the kids).  It was a gorgeous day and fun for us Lord of the Rings nerds.

That evening we went to Rainbow Springs which was beautiful at night all lit up.  There was a fantastic playground for the kids and lots of wildlife including the elusive kiwi bird.  They are quite shy and come out at night.  I have never seen one and it was so weird to see this strange-looking bird hopping around in the silence.  We returned to Rainbow Springs in the morning for the bird show and the Log shoot ride.  Everyone but mom went on and it was a great time - it was nice to see my dad being goofy and riding the log shoot like a cowboy.  

The next day we drove my parents back into Auckland and visited our all-to-familiar Auckland airport. Omi and Opa went home to Canada and the four of us went to Hamilton to stay at a hotel.  It was fun for us to have a TV since we don't have one at our house in Australia and the Motor Lodge was by far the nicest one I've ever been to - they were amazing.  The next day we explored the beautiful Hamilton gardens and then went back to Auckland for our flight.  It was a very full vacation and lots of fun.  We are so fortunate to be able to travel as 3 generations and our kids are lucky to have grandparents that have an endless supply of toys, treats, stories and cuddles.  Kia ora! 

Omi and Opa

At the end of February the kids were treated to the real-life hugs and kisses from Omi and Opa without separation by a computer screen.   They arrived on a Friday and, in typical Australian fashion, I bought champagne to celebrate.  I greatly appreciate that Australia needs very little to break out the champagne and/or fireworks.  They seem to always be up for a party.  What it’s Friday?  CHAMPAGNE! 

We rented a van over the weekend and explored the surrounding areas of Melbourne.  We saw the penguins toddle up from the ocean on Philip Island.  We went to Healesville Sanctuary and saw all the native Australian animals including the beloved platypus as well as the goanna, koala, echidna and Tasmanian devil.  Monday was perfect weather and we enjoyed the sunshine on the deck of an old hotel in Mornington before exploring some wineries in the region.  Perhaps in my next life I could own a vineyard – it was a lovely afternoon.

The remainder of the week my parents explored some additional sights around Melbourne and hung out with us in our little Australian abode.  Then…off to the land of hobbits and sheep….