Mother's Day

It's Mother's Day this weekend, and it's my first as a mum. Mr D has offered to take the three of us out for breakfast on the day, which will be lovely.

I was asked what I would like for Mother's Day, and after realising that sleep cannot be purchased, or wrapped up and put in a pretty box, I began to think of something other than sleep that would be a nice gift.

It got me thinking about what we used to get my mum for Mother's day. I have memories of Dad waking my sister and I up while Mum was still asleep, with the three of us sneaking around the house, making Mum breakfast in bed. This usually consisted of toast and a cup of tea - and then going outside to pick some flowers from the garden to put in a vase on her breakfast tray.

I am sure Mum was on to us, and made a great show of pretending to wake up when we came in, and then acting so surprised/delighted with her cold toast and weak cold tea. But perhaps the delight was genuine, because having your children do something nice for you is special isn't it?

So maybe I don't need a present after all. I'm saying no to the commodification of motherhood! I am above consumerism. I don't need to feel loved through the consumption of a never ending array of must have products. But perhaps I could make an exception for those exquisite boots I saw in Witchery last week...

TV Series...

I love DVD's. I mean not the actual discs themselves - obviously - but I love buying a whole season, or series even, of a TV show I love, and working my way through it. In my own time, and without being sold to advertisers without my consent. That's effectively what TV networks do. They sell you - the audience - to adverstisers, with their so called 'ratings' stats. Sorry, I digress....

Anyhow I really do love being able to sit down and watch an episode (or three!) of whatever show has taken my fancy. With the whole series in my hot little hands, I'm not at the behest of some televsion executive, deciding when I may watch a show and in what manner. With my DVD's I can devour the program or I can slow it down (as I often do when I am nearing the last DVD of the last season of a series!).

Currently I am progressig through the first season of Mad Men. It's very clever and funny and sexy.

Mr D is working his way through The Soprano's at the moment. He say's it's awesome...I might have to check it out some time.

I still look back with fondness on the days when I first watched the entire series of The West Wing. Love that show. Sigh, I will watch it through again, but it's not the same as the first time. I was fortunate too to discover the show when it was in it's final season, and therefore had the whole series to devour from start to finish.

So, I'm looking forward to discovering my new favourite series. Any suggestions?

Social Networking & Baby Boomers

It has come to my attention that many over fifties are making their presence felt in the online world of social networking. My mother is on Facebook. As is my Mother in law. I have refused to accept their 'friend requests'. I am unmoved by their pleas to accept them. It's bad enough they are on there in the first place.

I recently had to alert my mother in law that listing that she was 'interested in women' on her social networking site, meant people thought she was a lesbian. One would think that would be perfectly obvious. But not to her. She thought it meant interested in making friends with women. Nothing wrong with being a lesbian. It's just that she isn't one.

The Baby Boomers ruled the analogue age. They are the most prosperous and successful genereation ever, and it seems they are so used to everything going their way, and being catered to them, that it hasn't even occurred to them that Facebook is essentially not for them.

People my parents age on Facebook is a bit like my parents turning up uninvited to a party thrown for my peers. Not cool. In such a scenario, I imagine that most people would leave and find somewhere else to continue partying/socialising and generally having a good time.

And, funnily enough the same thing is happening online. Facebook has become the giant of the online social networking sites over the past few years. It was originally created for university students, but has rapidly evolved to become a multigenerational phenomenon. But more recently, younger people are leaving Facebook, while the fastest growing user group by age are the over 55's.

According to The Age, ChatRoulette is taking advantage of the mass exodus of young people from Facebook, and could be the 'next big thing' in social networking. But that's the nature of the online world isn't it? Transient, evolving, pushing boundaries. Seems like the Baby Boomers have jumped onto the Facebook revolution a little too late.

Summer Days

This week Melbourne's Spring weather is teasing us with a taste of Summer. We are told to expect three days of 25+ degrees Celsius. Summer is flirting with us, reminding us of our love of warm weather, clear blue skies and balmy nights.

While there are normally a few days that are too hot, almost oppressive, an Australian Summer is a special thing. Summer to me means beaches, holidays, Christmas, tennis (yay for the Australian Open!) and a general happiness.

But this summer I am a little apprehensive. A few things are on my mind regarding this Summer. The first is keeping my little girl cool, and protecting her from sunburn. But really I guess what is really causing my reservations about Summer this year is bushfires. The horror and devastation that occurred on February 7 2009 is still all too vivid in my mind.

My family who lived in Kinglake - one of the worst hit areas - are still recovering emotionally. All of them experienced some level of post traumatic stress disorder. They have all relocated and found new homes in other areas, too traumatised to return to the town they had called home for almost 30 years. I will never forget where I was when I got the call from my mother. My Aunt had called her screaming, they had lost the house and were trying to escape. . .then the phone cut out. Nobody was able to contact her or her husband for 12 hours. We didn't know if she had made it out. Miraculously she did, but sadly many others didn't.

Here is what is left of her house:





My father had made it to a sports oval where many others sheltered for days. He lost his home too. The fire came within 2km's of the oval that was supposed to be safe. Embers rained down on them throughout the night. Now just the smell of smoke triggers the horrific memories of bushfire survivors. And there will be bushfires. I hope and pray they will not reach the catastrophic levels that the Black Saturday bushfires did, but bushfires are a fact of life in an Australian summer. In fact officially, bushfire season started several weeks ago.

This is Kinglake one week after the fires:



So when the hot dry winds from the desert blow across from Adelaide and reach Melbourne, sending temperatures soaring this summer - as they inevitably will, I will be a little anxious. Anxious and concerned for those in high fire danger areas, anxious for the survivors, who will re-live the trauma all over again, and anxious about friends who have a holiday home surrounded by bush.

For information regarding Victorian Bushfires please got to:

http://www.cfa.vic.gov.au/index.htm

The ABC have compiled an excellent report about Black Saturday:

http://www.abc.net.au/innovation/blacksaturday/#/stories/mosaic

The Stork Has Arrived

I'm sitting here, sipping my honey and lemon hot drink, and listening to the sounds of my daughter sleeping.

Today we are down to her last clean/dry outfit. Who knew so much liquid could come out of such a tiny person with such regularity!? And the wet weather is not helping....I have loads of washing hanging up all around the house, under heating vents waiting to dry.

And it's alarming how quickly I have found myself in conversations that once made my eyes glaze over. For example; the pram chats. Apparently mums are all about the prams. I have only been out about 4 times with my pram and have already been stopped and questioned several times about it. What brand is it? Where did I get it from? Am I happy with it? Was it expensive? What did I like about it? Is that the ones all the celebrities use? The last question was asked while I was trying to put bubs in the car seat, and I barely remember what I said to her!

Also, when you get pregnant all the women you know who have been pregnant want to bond with you about the experience of pregnancy and .....nobody ever really does that before you get pregnant. So it's the same when you have the baby. All the women who have been through labour want the details and tell you about theirs.....some of this info might have been helpful before labour!? But maybe they don't want to scare you?!

So I am in two minds about how much to divulge to my non-mummy friends. Do I tell them the truth when they ask questions, or water it down so they arn't put off? I think that's the issue. Despite the fact that morning sickness is horrible and that labour bloody hurts, being on the other side of it now means I have more perspective. I wouldn't want to be responsible for scaring someone off having a baby, when I know how much joy and love they bring, and how everything else fades away.

Ute Gate!!????

Enough with 'Gates'. Seriously. I think all the journalists in the Canberra press gallery are bored.

The term comes from the US political scandal involving President Nixon; Watergate, eventually leading to his resignation and apparently changing US politics forever. Watergate was an office complex that was the scene of much of the scandal.

Since that time, journalists have taken a liking to adding 'gate' to any old minor political scuffle. 'Ute Gate' is a prime example of this. Perhaps we should take pity on the journalists in Canberra. Australian politics is a generally mundane affair, and something most Aussie's show a healthy apathy for.

Not like those US journalists, with their glamorous Presidents and all the pomp and ceremony that go's with US politics - they have plenty to write about. And take politics in the UK. Lots to write about there, what with all those tawdry sex scandals and until recently, controversial wives.

So perhaps Aussie journalists are a little gate happy, but I feel for them. I understand. What else do they have to write about? Rudd's use of Australian slang? Hardly news worthy; he grew up in Queensland and his name is Kevin. It's a given he's going to have some bogan in him.

Shopping and Refugees

Recently, while out purchasing essential baby items - such as a cot - before the stork arrives, I stumbled across the Maribyrnong Immigration Detention Facility. Large and important looking signs alerted me to this fact as I was driving along looking for the baby superstore I intended to visit.

I knew that it was in the area somewhere, but had never seen it. I pulled over to have a better look, and saw - in stark contrast to the signage at the front - several very run down, old, depressing looking buildings, much like the commission flats we see around Melbourne.

I was struck by the detention centres close proximity to one of Melbourne's largest shopping centres: Highpoint. In fact it would be a mere two blocks.

Highpoint displays the opulence and affluence we in the developed world have come to take for granted. Upon entering the shopping centre customers are transported from reality into an alternate universe where every comfort is met. The temperature is always perfect, the light is bright as if it were a lovely summer day, and palm trees line the main thoroughfares.

Highpoint exists as a temple of consumerism and capitalism, feeding our need to define ourselves by what we buy rather than what we do. This point was not lost on me as I wandered around the ludicrously large baby store that contained every possible style and design of the items I was looking for.

Across the road people are detained for trying to access the very lifestyle I am participating in. The governments website for the Maribyrnong Immigration Detention Facility claims that most of the detainees held there have overstayed their visa's or have been denied entry to the country. However it made me think about asylum seekers and refugees who have more genuine and urgent reasons for entering our country illegally.

I still have not been able to reconcile the two extreme realities that the detention centre and my shopping experience represent...