My child model

Back in June, Noah had some photos done through his kindy. As I was expecting it to be another day, I did not dress him up in smarter clothes, but instead he had his photos taken wearing his usual play clothes.

When we received his photos, Tim and I were pleasantly surprised at how wonderful the photos turned out. I think Tim and I always get surprised when Noah "does things" on his own - without any coaxing from us at all. There was no Mummy nor Daddy to be saying "cheese" nor jumping up and down trying to make him smile/laugh.

Since we were so pleased with the photos, I secretly sent them to a child modelling agency. Now Tim and I think that we have a gorgeous boy and we have always wondered whether he has the look to do some catalogue work.

Trying to find an agency who is not all about ripping parents off was hard. I read up on a lot of feedback from different forums I belonged to. It was a chat with a friend from my Mothers Group who was actually signed up with a particular agency that led us to making contact with the agency.

I emailed Noah's photos to them. In my email I stipulated that if they did not think that Noah had the look, it was okay. I did not want to waste their time as much as I did not want to waste ours. I would be contented enough thinking that I have a beautiful son.

The director emailed back and said that Noah is very cute and extremely photogenic. She openly informed us that the problem/issue with toddlers like Noah is their temperament and if you have been around toddlers, you will know that one minute they can be as sweet as apple pie giving you cuddles and doing anything you ask and the next minute they are driving you bananas with their stubbornness.  The director suggested that we come in to their office so that they can gauge Noah's temperament. And so we did.

Noah was amazingly wonderful during the meet up. He was charismatic and on his best behaviour.  Noah did his best to answer the questions he was asked. It was almost as if he knew his temperament was being looked at.

I learned many things during the information session. It was good that the agency was very open and did not come across as to be preying on vulnerable parents. I was given the run down on how it all works, their clients, fees and commissions and the possibility of work coming into fruition.

I took everything as a matter of fact.

We parted with the lady telling us that they will have a look if they have room for Noah in their books and for us to to really consider if this is something that we want to do. She said that she will be in touch sometime the following week.

We received our phone call yesterday, informing us that they are interested in signing him up and asked if we wanted to go ahead.

We decided against it, for now.

Now, I am not sure if every parent out there share my sentiments but as I said earlier, when I see catalogues and ads with babies/toddlers, I often think that my children could possibly good looking enough to be in them. However, little did I realise that there is so much work involved, and not just for the child.

The reality is that when a job comes up that Noah might be suitable for, I will have to be ready to take him for the casting. It will be my job to drive him around and to ensure that he is in the right mood. I will also need to ensure that he is able to follow directions, which I know he can given the feedback I get from his carers and watching him progress through his swim class. However, I still get nervous when it is a new person asking him to do things. I never know whether he will follow or not. It will also mean that if a casting falls on a day when he is in daycare, we will have the issue of whether we would want to pull him out instead of letting him have fun with his friends and carers. Keep in mind that if Noah attends a casting, it does not automatically mean that he will get the job. Fruition might be elusive despite the investment of our time and energy. It is a massive commitment.

Besides, do I really want to do this with Eliza, trying to juggle her sleeps and feeds?

Tim and I might reassess when Noah gets a bit older...when we can be truly confident that we have a better handle on his emotions and temperament. In the meantime, we will just enjoy the fact that we have beautiful photos to look at.

Fighting Spirit - Written January 3, 2008

I have been wanting to write a blog for a couple of days now but could not be inspired of a topic, til now. I just finished chatting with a good friend of mine in DC. After our Whatsnewwithyou and Happynewyear catch up, we fall into the topic related to the matters of the heart. She is still battling with the heart versus mind thing. She knows in her mind that she has to move forward but she is so scarred by her recent experience that she is almost scared to let her heart go once again.

This sounds familiar and I think that we have all been through this at some stage in our lives.
I then share with her where I am right now. One is that I cannot seem to get a date here in Sydney and two, I hosted morning tea for 3 of my closest HS girlfriends and their families on New Years Day and I was the only single person there! One came with her hubby and 2 kids. One came with her hubby and son and the other came with her hubby! Just as well I have been feeling really good (and beautiful) about myself because otherwise I would have thrown myself into the throes of depression - NOT! Hahahaha.

I shared with her how I truly believe that my turn will come just as much as her turn will come too.
She then asks me the question: "How do you stay so positive after all you have been through?" (yes, hi my name is Joann and I am almost 35 and still single).

My answer to her question is that I have an extremely wonderful support system who constantly remind me of how blessed and beautiful I am and  "Malakas ang fighting spirit ko" - to those who do not understand tagalog, please just ask someone to explain that term to you.

Fighting spirit -
-the spirit that tells a baby who is just learning how to walk to keep getting up and keep trying
-the spirit that convinces a person that there is still goodness in this world and in each one of us
-the spirit that challenges us to keep trying amidst failures we meet
-the spirit that reminds us that we have one life to live and to make the most of it
-the spirit that allows us to laugh at ourselves in times of HUGE blonde moments (no offence to blondes please), which seem to become more often as one gets older
-the spirit to accept that we are not perfect but we each have our own gifts and talents
-the spirit to know that life is fair and that there is good and bad and to know that everything washes out the same way in the end
-the spirit to know that lemons come in really handy on a hot summer day, especially with a bit of sugar
-the spirit to know that the proverb "this too shall pass" goes a long long way
-the spirit to accept and love ourselves especially our bodies despite imperfections that we create

I am sure that each one of us has some form of "fighting spirit" in us. As we start the new year, I wish each of you to seek and hone your fighting spirit. Challenges are innate in life but it is our attitude to these challenges which can make or break us.

Happy 2008 All and wishing each of us a fantastic one filled with wonderful suprises.

Mwah!

Snail Mail - September 24, 2007

I got a package in the mail yesterday from a friend in CA. With the package was a letter that she wrote on a handmade stationery.  A line that she wrote on the letter touched me. It was "Let's keep our friendship on paper".

I have been thinking about that line. My natural instinct was to immediately write an email to her.  I wanted to let her know that I got the package and the letter, immediately! But, I stopped myself.
I am a huge fan of instant communication. Email, Instant Messages, Text Messaging are all my best friends. To be able to communicate with people so far away almost on a daily basis. To know exactly what is going on in the lives of my family and friends, wherever they may be. My questions are almost immediately answered. My thoughts are immediately received. Keeping in touch has never been easier.

However, instant communication has also replaced snail mail.

I cannot remember the last time I wrote a proper letter. I enjoy writing and sending notes. I still believe in sending cards (Birthday, Thank You, Sympathy, Congratulations etc) and I love sending
postcards. However, an actual letter, just sharing everyday thoughts, not so much.

I used to love writing letters. I probably still do, but am just out of practise. Buying stationery was such treat when I was younger. I actually came across my old collection of stationeries a few weeks ago. I loved handwriting my thoughts on paper, trying to keep my penmanship as impeccable as I could. I loved placing that letter in the matching envelope and sealing it with kiss (It's suppose to bring good luck!), and going to the post office to see my letter off.

Funny, but I do not remember the last time I did that. I figured that by the time the recipient reads my letter, those thoughts are long stale!

Today, I am going to try my luck at writing a snail mail back to my friend. I know that my penmanship will no longer be pretty (I somehow type better than I handwrite!), but I will uphold my end of our friendship. I will honour her request.

I will keep our friendship on paper!

Whoa!- Written December 13, 2007

I have spent the last 4 Saturday's going to open houses around Sydney.  I have seen 2 bedroom flats, 1 bedroom flats, dirty old flats, bright and shiney new flats that are way beyond my budget, flats that have made me laugh, flats that have made me wonder...flats of all sorts I guess.  I was starting to get frustrated after the last field trip. I was not finding anything I was keen on. Either it was way beyond my budget, not upto par, too far of a commute or the place just did not do anything for me.

Coming into househunting, my brother kept telling me that I had to decide on a location first. He said once I have decided, it will be much easier. I was not listening to him. I wanted to drive around Sydney and see what was available and how much places cost. Too much and too far was what I found. Sydney happens to be the 21st most expensive city in the world..way more than New York City. Hence the value of my old place in DC is relatively smaller than places in Sydney and of course the USD is just getting weaker and weaker against a strong AUD!

Anyway.

My brother sent me another listing last Monday. Somehow I missed the open house that they had the Saturday before. I called the realtor and left a message. He immediately returned my call which was good. At least he was interested in trying to sell the property, unlike others out there who come across wanting you to beg them to sell the property. I told him that I wanted to view the property but was only available that night after work. I already had plans for the rest of the week. He was agreeable. He even offered for me to meet him at his work, which was just around the corner from mine, so that he can drive me to the property.

So we met and we went to the property. I knew I was in love. She is not the most perfect unit but I felt that she was perfect for me. I could honestly imagine myself cooking in the kitchen (once I did a bit of updating!), hanging out in the lounge, having brunch in the balcony and sleeping in my to-die-for bed in the bedroom. There was a bit of work to be done but it was purely cosmetic.

Otherwise, I knew she was mine if God meant for her to be mine.

I whispered a little prayer to God.

I had never bought a property in Sydney so I was not sure of the procedure. I asked the realtor whether I am suppose to go home and ring him up with an offer the following day. He of course told me that I can make an offer right then if I was comfortable which he can bring up to the seller.
I knew what I wanted to offer. Not what they were asking but what I wanted to pay. It was a little bit less than what they were anticipating I am sure but at the same time, I was going beyond my budget. I made an offer right then and there. I said that if the place is meant for me, then the sellers will give it to me. If however, they are getting a better from someone else, I knew that something else would come along.

The realtor said that he will do the best he can and get back to me that evening.

On my way home, I called two of the most important people in my life, my mum and my brother. I think that both of them nearly had a heart attack when I told them that I had made an offer on a place. I guess they felt I was being impulsive. Did I feel that? Maybe a bit. Did I feel good I made an offer? Heck YEH!

The realtor did call me back later that night. They agreed at my price. The husband and wife had to discuss it but eventually made the decision. I was ecstatic.

I said my little prayer of thanks and started to get really excited.

We are now in the process of putting the paperwork together to close early February, just in time for my birthday. My brother has seen the place and has given his seal of approval, including trying to figure out the best place for the tele(???). My parents are going to see it for the first time tomorrow and I am confident that they too will see it for what its worth.

Purchasing her was definitely a whirlwind romance, but as I have seen from family and friends, and have experienced first hand, when it comes to blessings from God, as long as prayers are involved, you just know when it is right for you.

...and yes, my brother was right. Once you know where you want to live, it becomes much easier.
My new abode is walking distance from work, amongst other things! Yey!

I can see clearly now...- Written September 5, 2007

It has been exactly a week since I got home. I have caught up with several friends since arriving and have been asked whether I am happy to be back. A no brainer. With no hesitation, I answer absolutely. I have been describing the feeling as coming back to a place that you know so well but seeing everything with a fresh pair of eyes - literally!

I came back here to Sydney with "Laser" eyes. I have disposed of my contact lenses, given my left over solutions to my sister-in-law and have donated my spectacle frames to my Mum. I am still awed at how a process that takes less than half a hour can be so life changing! I continuously find myself testing my eyesight to see how far and clear I can truly see. I am amazed!

Friends have also been asking me what my plans are. The cliff notes answer to that question is "I really am not sure, I will just have to wait". Of course there are a number of "I hope to" and "Ideally, I would like". However, it ends there. I have spent the last 11 years soaring, flying, chasing my dreams, ensuring that each item on my to-do list was being achieved. I do not regret any single second of my last 11 years. I have grown, learned, achieved, failed, loved, questioned, amongst others. I know that I truly lived! However, I have also learned that I am not in control of my life and my future. Only God is.

So with my fresh pair of eyes, I am coming home to Sydney with also a fresh heart. A fresh heart with so much hope and faith for what is ahead, in God and what else He has planned for me. I am done chasing. I am done driving. I am done telling God what needed to be done. I am overconfident that God knows what is best for me. I am overconfident that He listens to my prayers. I am overconfident that we are still on speed dial basis.

This is not to say that I have stopped dreaming. I still whisper to God what my heart hopes for. He knows each thought and dream that passes through my heart and mind. However, it is no longer about what I want, but rather what He wants.

As I begin this new chapter in The Beautiful Life of Jo (one day I will write it!), I am grateful for the opportunity. I am grateful for all the lessons learned. I am grateful for the the new beginning. I am grateful for the fresh pair of eyes and for the fresh hope in my heart.

I truly can see clearly now....

How many more days??? - Written July 27, 2007

Most of you know that I flew back to DC last Monday. My former boss had a major surgery and she asked to fly me in to help cover for her whilst she heals. Saying yes to her was a no brainer. She has been a wonderful mentor and friend to me that helping her heal was the least I could do.

I was on my 2nd week of being back home in Sydney when I started to think that I did not want to do the trip. It was going to be at least 20 hours of flying each way and I really did not have a permanent place to stay at. Besides my little boo was just getting used to having me around and I was starting to really enjoy my telenovela sessions with my Mum and Dad.

Reluctantly, I soldiered on.

First of all, I am going to say that I am going to make the most of my trip here. I am going to see and spend time with the people that I love and care about, say goodbye to the people that I did not get to see beforehand, attend mass at my favourite church, go to my favourite yoga classes, do some shopping and maybe eat as much Mexican food that I can (that is what Sydney is lacking of it seems - not much Hispanics making their way there).

However, after being back here for over a week now, I feel that I am here physically but my heart and mind seem to be elsewhere. My work has become something that I have already said goodbye to. I go home to other people's home. I am driving someone else's car. I do not own my own towels. I am feeding other people's fish and cats...and I am being nourished with either restaurant food or frozen meals.

I am going to make the most of my remaining time here. I do not want to miss out on the opportunities and gifts of being back here. Besides, I am a firm believer that life is about the journey and not about the destination and I am a huge propagator of living in the NOW rather than living in the WHEN.....

After all, DC is a place I once called home.

I am my father's daughter!

When I was growing up, most of the television sitcoms portrayed the idea of the "perfect" father. Dr Huxtable  from the Cosby Show was definitely the epitome. He was the most understanding father, extremely supportive and never ran out of hugs and kisses for all his children, especially Rudi. When his children did the wrong thing, he would commiserate, sometimes punish, with so much love and understanding.

As a child, television media definitely shaped my perception as I always wondered why my Dad was not like Dr Huxtable. Instead, my Dad never minced with his words. He was quite blatant and extremely direct. He  constantly reminded us of the impact that our choices made, how important it is to be considerate of others (especially when you are driving! We dared never to stop in the middle of the road to try and work out where to go, especially when someone is right on our tail!), and how important it is to do your homework and  to practice if you want to excel in something especially sports. If we did not succeed in something we participated in, there were reasons why. Maybe I did not study hard enough or maybe I did not practice hard enough. He constantly reminded me that I needed to be perceptive - always think ahead.  The phrase "life is how you make it" constantly came out of his mouth.

As I grew up, I began to understand my father. I started to understand his ways and started to respect them. I learned that he was just trying to do his best by us and was teaching us to become thoughtful and perceptive human beings. He did not wrap us in cotton wool because he wanted us to learn what life is really like. To him, life is not seen through rose coloured glasses but with the reality and truthfulness. I realised that he was imparting his street smarts with us and was teaching us how to make decisions. A life skill not everyone learns.

As I grow older, I see so much of my father in me. I have his blatantness. I see that my life is hugely because of the choices that I make and yes I live by the same philosophy he has. Life is  how you make it.

This weekend, I was once again reminded of how much I am like him.

We drove up to the Hunter Valley on Saturday with my Mum and brothers family. The Hunter Valley Gardens has created a pseudo snow environment  for the children.  Tim was the designated driver and I was the designated music handler and children minder. Now I have driven to the Hunter several times but given that I am a "need to know" type of person, I often do not remember which exit to take. I also usually rely on the signs indicating which exit to take. Driving up, we did not see our usual markers. Tim and I second guessed ourselves with the right exit because we were looking for our signs instead.  We kept driving further. We drove a bit further until we both finally realised that we were getting further and further.  We had to take a detour which set us back by about 20 minutes. Eventually, we got there.

Interestingly enough, this set back irritated me. If my Dad was driving with us, I knew that he would not have relied on looking out for signs. Instead, he would have pulled out his beloved Street Directory Map (yes, he still does not use a GPS) prior to the journey to make sure he knows exactly what road and which exit to take. He was not going to rely on signs which may or may not be there. My Dad would have done his homework. I can assure you that the next time Tim and I set off somewhere, I will be looking up my Map (Googlemaps for me) to know exactly where to go.

So dear Dad, in as much as I probably did not listen to you when I was younger and hated that you were not even remotely like Dr Huxtable, please know that I have the lessons that you have taught me and continue to teach. I may have my mother's zest for life and adventure (and bargain hunting) but I definitely have your groundedness and life skills. I am definitely your daughter, and not just because I look like you.

A Mothers Guilt

I am not sure if the title that I have chosen is appropriate for the topic that I want to blog about. See, I do not believe in feeling guilty. When I finish that whole packet of mixed M&M's or that cheese and bacon balls, I don't have feelings of guilt afterwards. I just tell myself, oh well, now that I have done that, hope I can do better in the future. I know for most part in my life, I TRY to be the best person that I can possibly be, so when things do not work out as expected, feelings of guilt do not cross my mind.

However, since having E come into our lives, I can give you 2 very clear examples of times when I have felt guilt...and it involves both children.

When Eliza was first born, it was inevitable that almost all of my energy would go to taking care of her. The first 6weeks of her life was a complete blur to me but I know that it involved a lot of feeding, sleeping and getting her settled. Tim became (and is still relatively) Noah's primary carer. Tim started to do the things that I used to do for Noah like baths, nappies, eating, getting dressed etc.  Since I was unable to drive for 4 weeks after giving birth, it was also Tim who was taking Noah to daycare and picking him up.  I know that I was busy with Eliza but I remember distinctly a time when I told Tim that I felt bad that I was starting to feel so removed from Noah and his daily activities. I had not even met his new carers at kindy since they moved him up during that time. I felt very guilty!

Best friends

Having so much fun together

How they love each other

I wanted to fix this situation so as soon as I was able to drive I started to get involved again parenting version 1. I took the school runs once again and when Noah was home during the week, the focus was once again on him. We started his regular routine of playparks, zoo, aquarium, playdates etc.  once again, with his little sister in tow.

Mac Daddy

Can you see E?

Fast forward to early last week.  Eliza had a health appointment at our local Early Childhood Centre. It was for her 6 week check up but since we had to wait to get an appointment, she was almost 10 weeks when we went. All went well, except for a slight issue. The flat spot on Eliza's head that she was born with is not getting any better.  We were referred to a pediatric physio who advised us to ensure that Eliza gets plenty of tummy time and exercises when she is awake. I needed to be more vigilant about getting Eliza on the floor when she is awake rather than just keeping her on the bouncer or lying in her cot, which I am very guilty of.

Not sure about being on the mat

I'm suppose to do it again?

So you can imagine how I have been vigilant I have been with doing my homework. Almost each time that E is awake, she is on the floor doing on her exercises or I am carrying her so that no weight is placed on her head. Nothing like a good kick in the bum to get me to pay attention to her needs.

It's funny because this seems to be a common issue with 2nd children. I have 2 friends who have both had their 2nd children recently (a couple of weeks younger than E), whose eldest are the same age as Noah. Both of them have told me that they too have been accused of not doing enough tummy time with their babies. Of course it does not help that their younger boys have also flat spots on their heads.


I have yet to find the perfect balance of attending to each child's needs and trying to be pro active rather than reactive....add into the mix trying to keep a home in order. I am not really sure how I am going to do it but hopefully, just as with most things, continuous practise helps. It's good to know though that I am not the only person in this boat, that my peers have also been having to use the same coping mechanism as I am. Wonder if they felt just as guilty as I did?!