Can we please stop the hate? Or at least hate the right people instead??

When the photo of little Aylan Kurdi went global, I took a break from social media for a while. Every time that photo flashed up in my news feed, my stomach dropped and I had to fight back tears. I donated to the UN Refugee Agency and I encouraged all my friends to do what they could. I signed a petition to urge our PM to increase his intake of refugees and I held my boy a little tighter knowing I was raising a child in a world where leaders are willing to let children die in order to maintain the illusion that they are powerful.

But not everyone had the same feelings I had.

I saw numerous people posting about how our Government should take care of our own before we start bleeding cash to these criminals trying to jump the queue. How Australia's homeless and disabled are so hard done by, that we should spend the money on them instead of helping these 'could be criminals'. I had one 'friend' post that our unemployment rate was already so high that letting these 'can't even speak English' people in would just mean they would take jobs that are rightfully Australian jobs.

And I thought to myself.....

People are LITERALLY risking their lives and the lives of their children in an attempt to leave their homes. Let that sink in for a minute. They have the chance of death and leaving, or the likelihood of death and staying. Aylan isn't the first child to die, and you can bet your arse he won't be the last. There are many, many Aylan's dying daily.

This is a picture of Syria today.

With a drought, a corrupt government, a FUCKING WAR happening and no way out, they are definitely just using this opportunity to come and take over Australia. #FFS

I paid extra money to have a private car with a baby seat take us from the airport on holiday, because I didn't want to hold my child on my lap in a taxi for fear of his safety. So in order for me to get on an overcrowded, rickety ship that could sink at any stage, with a lack of food, thousands of strangers, no knowledge of where we would end up and no guarantee of safe arrival anywhere, shit would have to be pretty fucking desperate.

I am in no way saying that the disabled and unemployed people in our country have an easy time. I  DO think our Government should take better care of it's citizens. I DO think that the Government should get it's priorities straight when it comes to spending money. But I DON'T think that the priorities should be a choice of helping Australian people in need, or helping other people in need.

I think they should cut money to politician's 'golden handshake' pensions. I think they should reduce their expense accounts. They should be banned from spending tax payer money on propaganda campaigns to help them get re-elected in order to continue to spend tax payer money on luncheons and private jets and inquiries that only benefit their agendas. I don't agree with working my arse off to pay taxes in order for Joe fucking Hockey to claim a living away from home expense when he's staying at "his wife's house". It's YOUR FUCKING HOUSE JOE! YOU'RE MARRIED YOU FUCKWIT!!

If we're going to be outraged, why aren't we outraged at that? Why aren't we outraged that our government has somehow managed to convince us that we can't help people who are being bombed and drowning at sea trying to escape a country where you can get shot on the street? Why aren't we outraged that our politicians have convinced us there's no money for that, and yet can travel around the world with their families paid for by us?

When did we suddenly get this us vs them mentality? We are ALL people. We all bleed the same blood. We all have a mother, a father, a family, hopes and dreams. We are all struggling in this fucked up world to do the best that we can. How have we been convinced that only one demographic can be helped at a time? "Gee, I'd love you to help you out Mr Blind person but I just donated to the deaf community. Soz." That's such fucking bullshit.

It's more likely your next door neighbour is a psycho who beats his wife than the father escaping a war-torn country is an arms dealer. "We don't know whether they're criminals or not" is the most piss poor excuse to leave people to die. 2 women were killed by their partners in the last two days and guess what they weren't? Refugees! With some of the comments I have heard lately, I'm more worried that the people in THIS country are psychopaths, when they see a picture of a dead child and think "oh great, the bleeding hearts will milk this one for all it's worth!"

Since when does a child not born in Australia, deserve less love and protection? Why do we have to make a choice of whether we help the Australian homeless or the homeless refugee? It shouldn't be a choice. We can do both. A person in need of help is a person in need of help. Regardless of race, country of origin or sexual orientation.

If you genuinely believe that helping refugees means that we can't help our fellow Australians as well, there is something seriously wrong with you. If you genuinely have no sympathy for the family of a dead child, you are just as callous and heartless as the people dropping the bombs. Because you know who else thought that their way of life was more superior than others? Hitler. You are basically Hitler if you are willing to let women and children die because you don't want to share your toys.

When the going gets tough, the true character of people really shines. If you want to continue on hating, then at least hate the right people. Hate the rich, old white men running this country, who've never had to worry about whether today will be the day that people with machine guns run into their house and kill their family.

I guess the downside of living in the lucky country, is that we don't actually appreciate how lucky we are.

Just think about it.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

Mother or career? Because apparently in the 21st century, you still can't have both.

Nurses work extremely hard, long and unfavourable hours. Nurses eat their young and have less compassion for each other than the patients we look after. Nurses are hard arses who really shouldn't be messed with. I know because I'm a nurse. And my husband knows because he's married to a nurse. Which means that unless you stubbed your toe due to the fact you couldn't see.....because there was a carving knife in your eye, then you really need to calm your farm because it's probably not as bad as you think it is.

Mothers are also a force to be reckoned with. I underestimated this force until I had a child of my own and I cannot even describe to you the thing inside of me that will protect my child until my dying breath. Don't mess with my child. Seriously don't.

I had a rough time bringing my son into this world. I had a terrible pregnancy; I was sick several times a day, sometimes to the point that standing up made me spew so I carried a v-bag with me everywhere; I developed severe carpal tunnel at 25 weeks where I had to stop work at 27 due to safety; and then at 29 weeks I developed severe early onset pre-eclampsia and HELLP syndrome. I gave birth to a 900 gram little boy, almost 3 months earlier than I expected to, we both came close to death and it was traumatic for both my husband and myself. Then I spent 9 weeks in hospital, 12 hours a day, where I was limited in the time I could hold my child, where every single gram he put on mattered and the waiting game of what problems he would have due to his prematurity began.  When we got him home, he screamed most of the day and I had many health professionals dismiss my concerns as a neurotic first time mum with post-natal depression. For. Six. Very. Long. Months.

For 6 months my child didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't poo, and cried non-stop for hours on end. For 6 months I exclusively expressed breast milk for a baby that couldn't breastfeed, because I trusted specialists who told me that 'breast was best' and his gut problems would be worse if I put him on formula. It didn't help that said baby would only sleep on me which made pumping harder which made the stress higher thinking I was failing my son if I couldn't make enough milk. For 6 months, my husband and I fought, cried and took shifts to deal with a baby who we thought was going to cry until the end of time. I lost friends who didn't know how to help, my hair fell out and I didn't even know who I was anymore.

A little time has gone by, I can laugh about it now. Well not laugh, but sigh, somewhat. At the time I seriously considered running my car off the road. Not to die. No, I just thought if I could be intubated in ICU for a little while, the sedation would mean I could catch up on sleep. Just for a day or two. That seemed rational to me. I have no idea how my husband coped because he actually had to leave the house and communicate with real people. He has a fabulous boss.

To compound the issue, my father in law lost his brave battle with Leukemia so in the throws of a sick child, a mentally unstable wife and sleep deprivation, my poor husband had to somehow deal with the death of his best friend as well. To say it wasn't the best time of our lives would be the biggest fucking understatement in the world. It sucked royal donkey dick and I don't know how we  both survived.

Then after thousands of dollars, countless tests, a general anaesthetic and a baby chiropractor for fucks sake (because when you're at rock bottom you'll give anything a crack! Get it?!?!) - we discovered that 'breast is best' isn't necessarily true with children that have a cows milk protein allergy. That's why my kid wasn't well. There was something wrong. Which he could have probably been tested for during the 9 FUCKING WEEKS WE WERE IN A HOSPITAL THAT HAS A LABORATORY THAT TESTS THINGS! We put him on an allergy formula. And hours of my time freed up because I wasn't strapped to a pump. And he didn't cry so much anymore. And he slept for longer than 45 mins at a time. And he started to smile. And laugh. And my husband and I realised that parenting was actually not supposed to be as hard as we had it.

My point of this long background story is to give you some understanding of where my priorities lie. I have discovered that having the nicest of the things is not nearly as important as having time with those you love. I have discovered that having the nicest of the things doesn't give you protection from losing people that mean the world to you. I have discovered that although I have to work to gain money, I don't need as much money as I thought I did, because getting the plastic cups and bowls out of my cupboard and bashing the shit out of them until my son laughs so hard he's breathless, well that is free.  And also doesn't require me to have the nicest of the things because they get the shit bashed out of them. Would I like to give my son the nicest of the things? Sure, what parent doesn't. Do I think he's better off having the things instead of quality time with me because I've had to work half his life in order to afford said things? No. No I don't. 

So here we are, almost 11 months down the track after having hell on earth for over half of that time.  For the last 4 months we've had this adorable child who we love with all our soul and I've finally had the time to bond with him and he loves me and I love him. We have a routine, the fogs of depression have lifted and we have our shit sorted. I have only just figured out how amazing it is to be a parent.

And now I have to go back to work. Don't get me wrong, I want to go back to work. I want my son to see his mother and father both contributing to the finances and the housework of the family. I want him to have a good female role model. I want to work at times that will work for my family. My anxiety is sky high thinking about not the actual returning to work, but the politics of having to request shifts that work for my family. The fact that I'm going to be made to feel like i'm in the wrong for trying to put my family first is literally making me feel sick with worry.

Now, I expected that being a nurse and working in a mainly female workforce, this would be one of the things that wouldn't be a problem and as women support women (stop laughing), we wouldn't be made to feel like an inconvenience for having children.

I know. How fucking naive can one get? I should have clued on that there was a clause in the Nurses award SPECIFICALLY for women returning to work post maternity leave. The fact that there NEEDS to be a clause should have been a flag. The fact that my boss was one level above me in the hospital but didn't even phone to see if I was alive when I told her I would unexpectedly not be returning to work because of the possible death thing, well that could have been an indication of times to come. Now I've been informed, that me returning to work on a set roster instead of variable shifts because I have to you know, find times where someone is available to look after my child is a bit of a pain for rostering. Well....

I've been informed that some experienced nurses have not returned to work post maternity leave because they are told that their requests cannot be accommodated. I have to sign a stat dec stating when I will be returning to my full time hours and have that approved by upper management. Well you know what, I don't know when I'll be returning to my full time hours. Because my child might not do well in a child care centre for 3 days a week. Because I might not WANT to put him in child care 3 days a week when I really only need to put him in for one if I have the flexibility to do shifts around when myself or my husband can look after him.

Why the FUCK are we even still having this conversation? Why is having to accommodate people who choose to have a family such a big deal? Your job as management is to MANAGE it. That's why you get paid a metric fucktonne more than I do. You know what a pain in the arse recruitment is? Because that's what's happening when experienced people have to choose between family and work.  They leave. They find somewhere that will accommodate them, or alternatively the profession looses out on awesome people. Is it really more of a pain in the arse to try and work with some staff for a couple of years than hire new people continuously because the former have left? It means the public suffer. It means the graduate nurses don't have a wealth of experience to learn from. It means that specialty areas are becoming less specialised because there may only be one or 2 senior nurses left because others have been forced to leave.

Personally for me, it's not a choice. I am a nurse and can get a casual job anywhere I need to. I like the area I'm in from a learning perspective. I'd like to stay. But if I'm made to choose I will choose my family. Hands down no regrets. I will make it work. It will be a piece of piss compared to this last year.

I won't apologise for wanting to spend time with my son over working. I won't be made to feel guilty for not wanting to go a whole day without seeing him at all. In this day and age I won't be told to 'deal with it' and 'make it work'. I find it despicable that women can be and continue to be so ridiculously harsh towards other women. What has happened to me this last year, has meant that the size of my balls have supersized to 'just to try me' proportions. I almost died, I watched my child struggle to cling to life and I had to fight for over 6 months to get anybody to believe that my child was in pain. Anything else pretty much pales in comparison. I'm flexible, but I have my limits and I won't be made to feel inferior for wanting to be in my child's life more than I want to be a cog in a system.

What really sucks is that some women don't have that option. They're not in a profession where there's a shortage. They do have to 'deal with it' and 'make it work'. And that frankly is bullshit. It's fucking bullshit. For all the advancements that have been made with equality and positivity this just goes to show that not much has really changed. The attitude of 'I had to do it years ago so why shouldn't you' is fucking stupid. Why should I have to do it? Do you remember how fucking hard it was for you? Why would you want to inflict that on someone else when it doesn't have to be that way? Maybe the reason you are so bitter is because you were forced to work hours that meant you had 2 hours sleep in 48 hours because you had to look after your child after a night shift and before another one. Things in the world change because it's not working. And this isn't working.

Maybe if we had a government that actually supported women instead of electing a cumwad fucktwat who will appoint himself as a Minister for Women when he clearly isn't a woman, society as a whole would start changing it's view. Maybe the fact that one woman a week is being killed in a domestic incident shows that women are still seen as pretty far down the food chain. Maybe being forced to choose a family or a career is tip of the iceberg in a culture that hasn't changed much since a time when men used to club the women over the head and drag them back to their cave.

If you want to work full time, and you don't have a problem being away from your child, then more power to you. Go you big red fire engine. You shouldn't be shamed any more than I should for your choices. But should your choice make it harder on mine? No. The fact that there is even any angst about coming back to work when you have small children is just so 1950's. It shouldn't be a battlefield. It makes me angry. Really angry.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

What I've learned in a year.

It's my birthday!

Fuck yeah!

This time last year I was spewing my guts up and upset I didn't get to have a birthday party because a tiny terrorist had set up camp in my baby box. I feel like I have aged about 20 years in the last year. This time I get to drink some rum and have a sleep in. And blog. 

So here's some things I have learned in the past year.....

1. When your parents say 'you'll understand when you have kids of your own', it actually genuinely means that you will only really understand when you have kids of your own. Parents say a lot of shit that you think 'yeah whatever, you're talking outta your arse'. I know - I'm a parent. I talk outta my arse a lot. No seriously, they give you a 'talking outta your arse' handbook when you give birth. True story. I didn't understand the statement 'you'll understand when you have kids of your own', until I had a kid of my own. If you don't have kids you won't understand. But don't worry - you will. When you have kids of your own.

2. Older actually does mean wiser. The time in this last year, has somehow morphed me into this weird person that doesn't really care too much that I'm missing the 2 for 1 drink specials at the local bar. I suddenly understand that eating well and exercising makes me feel better. Getting a full nights sleep will help my mood. Or that bitchy chick that did that thing that one time that was super bitchy? Who gives a fuck?! Not me, that's for sure. Because I'm like super wise and shit. Yeah.

3. Money matters for a whole different reason. When I was 18 and earning like $500 a week (it was a lot back then you young whippersnappers!) I should have bought a house. They were like $150,000 for a massive house. It was so much money back then. But I had fake nails to buy. And 2 for 1 drinks. Oh my goodness how I wish I could smack my 18 year old self upside the head. I would have had such security now for my child (hopefully child/ren). I wouldn't have to work so much to pay off the amount of debt I have. Debt from buying fake nails and 2 for 1 drinks or whatnot. Which brings me to my next point....

4. You really need to find a job that you love. You need to work in a place you feel valued and that you feel contributes to your soul. Otherwise, you will realise that leaving your child/ren for a whole day simply to earn enough money to pay for whatever you bought when you were 18, is really not worth it. You can make it work for less. You'll sacrifice something in order not to work. Not because you don't want to work, but because you'd rather spend time with this tiny human creation that you created. You can cut out x, y, or z in order to work less in a job that you hate. You will find time to go to a job that you makes your soul sing. You'd do it free actually.

5. Life is way too short to put up with shit people. Do you have a friend that you 'should' see? Fuck them right off. Does phoning your sister give you heart palpitations? Well fuck that! Surround yourself with people that make you feel good and you want to make feel good. The good people die young. They don't have enough time. The shit people will live through a zombie apocalypse. You never know when the last time you talk to a person will be. So talk to the people that matter and forget the people that don't.

6. Words of wisdom are for suckers.  No seriously. Stop reading this. You're being a sucker.

Well, it's past 9pm and I'm old now. So I'll let you go and make a warm milk and honey or whatever. Tomorrow I plan on studying bath aids and safety grips.

Because I'm old.

And wise.

So there.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

Oh hai!

So I haven't blogged in a while.

Because (in case you couldn't tell by the rage and spelling errors) I mostly blogged when I was drunk and have fired up over something. Like vaccinations, stupid parenting advice, or generally just dumb people that have pissed me off. (Side note: I re-read my vaccination blog and drunk or no, I was pretty happy with it and stand by every word!)

I haven't been drunk in a while. I haven't really felt the need. I like not waking up hungover and I kind of want to be healthier. I've had days where I've really thought 'holy bacon I could go a Bundy!' but then I realise that I'd rather just sleep. I think it's been well over a month since I've had anything to drink at all.

I haven't been fired up over something worth blogging about. I get angry and talk about it, therefore not feeling angry anymore, or I just realise that it's not worth getting angry about and continue on living my life.

All this got me thinking...... am I like.....mentally stable right now?

And if so, WHO THE HELL AM I EVEN?!?

I have this feeling inside me, where I'm not really feeling any angst about anything in particular. I think it's called contentment. I've NEVER been content before. EVER. As in my whole (almost) 31 years, I have never just sat back and gone 'yep, everything is pretty orright actually'.  I've always been fighting with someone, having relationship issues, having baby issues, having extreme mental health issues, helping others deal with their extreme mental health issues.....

Right now I'm not doing any of that. I'm just.... happy. I'm a bit scared kids. Seriously, I think I need an adult.

I see a psychologist regularly who's given me tools that actually really help. I have my child in a routine and he's (mostly) happy and sleeping through the night, which means I (mostly) sleep through the night. I did a parenting course, which I'm pretty sure repaired our attachment issues and I'm even thinking that maybe a 2nd or 3rd or 10th baby is a possibility in the future. I have a list on the fridge of what we will be eating daily and the exercise classes I'm going to take. I'm joining a freaking gym tomorrow and have actually scheduled that into my day kids. I have a cleaning schedule so the house is pretty clean most of the time. At least once a week every room in the house gets a really good solid clean. You never really know how dirty your house is until you have a crawling baby in your house.

For realsie. I'm totally winning at life right now.

I write a shopping list according to what we will be eating and I don't go up and down the aisles and buy unnecessary shit anymore. I made my husband AND my child breakfast the last few mornings and we sat down and ate together before he went to work. I even said aloud, 'you know, I wouldn't mind being a stay at home mum. I think I'd be good at it.'

Holy shit.

I just realised who I am.

I'm a fucking Stepford wife.

Fuck.

Or old.

Of course. Never mind everyone. I'm just old.

Crisis averted.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse. 

Oh hey annoying mums! I get you now!

I don't know when it happened. I can't tell you if it was a gradual transition or if it happened overnight. I'm not sure if it's a phase or not. But it's happened. It's here.

I'm one of 'those' mums.

The gushy mum......

I disgust myself sometimes. I feel like occasionally I need to kick my own arse. It's just that this kid of mine is so freaking adorable! Sometimes I feel like that place where my heart should be is just about exploding. I totally understand why people have lots of kids now.... (yes, actually my husband IS scared.)

So I firmly debate that I ever really had 'severe' postnatal depression - I was just having a shit time with a shit situation because my child was unwell & no one believed me (FYI he had cow's milk protein allergy, where he pretty much morphed into an amazing kid the night we put him on an allergy formula'). Buuuuut, devil's advocate, if I did have PND, it is most definitely not present right now. I'm pretty sure that people immediately regret their decision to ask me how my son is going. I mean after like 30 minutes of me bragging about how amazing he is they seriously wish a hole would open up & swallow them whole.

'Coz I'm pretty sure my kid is the smartest kid in the world. He is also the cutest, funniest, spunkiest little dude this world has ever and will ever see. And I'm sorry, but if you tell me anything other than that, it will probably be the last thing you ever say.

He's at that really cute stage where he's crawling, and trying to stand up, and making words up, and eating/playing with his food, and smashing every toy against everything we own, and getting into shit he shouldn't get into, and starting to realise that he can crack it big time when he doesn't get what he wants.

He said 'mum' today - his first word, and he calmed down once he got 'mum' (that's me!!) and I swear to Bacon that my ovaries shot out and knocked my husband out. Downside to that is, he also sounds like he's crying 'mum' when we put him down for his hated naps where we clearly crush his soul and impinge his time to shine irreparably. I would definitely accept it if he said 'dad' for that one....

What made me come to the conclusion that I am now 'annoying braggy mum', is that we had some friends come to stay this weekend and even I noticed that I was pretty much banging on about what an awesome parent I clearly was, as evidenced by my clearly awesome child. I needed a break from myself, so I have no idea how our friends coped! Hats off to you friends - I would have understood a swift slap to the face!

But it suddenly dawned on me, that after months & months of doubting my ability and second guessing myself.....I'm doing OK.

I mean, I'm not gonna say I'm 100% perfect parent, but who is really? Sometimes I'm just so sick of being a mum, that I hand my clearly genius/model/scientist child to my husband the minute he walks through the door after work, and pretend I'm busy researching some mad parenting biznit on the computer when i'm really just trying to beat level 550 on Candy Crush.

But fuck it - that's ok! I used to beat myself up. I mean I bought my 2 month old baby flash cards for fucks sake. What the actual fuck was I thinking? "Here premature baby genius! Cat. C-A-T. Cat. You will not be delayed like every medical professional has stated!"

Dead set. Settle the fuck DOWN mumma bear!

I'm not saying that the way I parent is the gold class, A standard of parenting. I'm saying that the way I parent is the gold class, A standard of parenting for my child, right now. Next week, it will change. Next child will be different. Your child will be different.

But I'm not ashamed to say, that I am now 'braggy mum' and proud of it! If you don't like it, feel free to suck my sweaty nut sack.

Because right now, I'm pretty awesome. This is evidenced by my pretty awesome child.

So there. 

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

Why putting your dress out is not enough.

So #putyourdressout is trending on the net today where women are hanging their wedding or special dress on the front door. It's supposedly been initiated by Stephanie Scott's family as a way to remember her life on what should have been her wedding day and raise awareness of violence against women. 

Here's the thing.

Hanging your wedding dress on your front door out of respect for Stephanie is wonderful. If that brings you some comfort & makes you feel closer to a woman, who's life was cut way too short then go nuts. If you think that it will help less women get killed, you're fucking delusional.

I find this is somewhat along the lines of #makeupfreeselfieforcancer. Slacktivism. Where people can feel good about themselves by thinking they are actually standing up for something they believe in, without actually having to do very much at all.

By putting a dress out the front of your door, you are not helping to end the fight of violence against women. Not even close. It's not enough.

30 women have already been killed this year. 2 a week. The news stories run sad film for a week or so, Twitter blows up about violence against women, then another woman is killed so the first is forgotten and then the cycle is repeated. Do you know why?

Because violence against women is so ingrained in our culture that we don't even bother to fight anymore. Or we fight for a little bit, but then we just continue to live our lives because it's all just too hard.

We elected a man, who's head of a party that ran a 'ditch the witch' campaign against our first EVER female PM. LNP candidate Mal Brough held a fundraiser that had a menu that talked about her small tits & red box. We talked about what she was wearing & who coloured her hair. The now MALE Prime Minister has appointed himself Minister for WOMEN and cut funding to domestic violence services for fuck's sake! There's one women who managed to get his approval and we talk about how she must be a 'ball busting bitch'. That just touches on the people who run our country. Run. Our. Country.

When Jill Meagher was killed there was a huge outcry of 'why was she by herself at that time of the morning!?' A priest just a few weeks ago said she'd still be alive if she'd had 'more faith' because she'd be in bed not walking down that street. Then just last month, a teenage girl got stabbed to death walking through the park, in broad daylight. And what do we say? Oh she shouldn't have had her earphones in.  A prostitute gets murdered and we say 'she was an easy target'.

COME THE FUCK ON AUSTRALIA!

So what are we going to say about Stephanie who was AT WORK when she was killed? Working is too dangerous so women should stay at home and let the big tough men go out into the big bad world for them? Oh wait, 96% of women get killed by an intimate partner! So I guess that rules out staying home too.

If we want to stop violence against women, we have to get rid of the mentality that women aren't worth as much as men! Boys are being brought up with the covert message that women are weak, easy targets and their lives aren't worth as much as a mans', partly because of the messages above! A woman shouldn't have to be on guard, walking through a park in the middle of the day. A woman should be able to walk a few blocks home at any time of the night, not having to fear for her life. A prostitute has just as much right to life as a 26 year old school teacher. 

This goes hand in hand with my previous post about rape. If a woman is raped she was 'asking for it', or 'drunk what did she expect?' or 'dressed provocatively'. Fuck that shit. Men just shouldn't fucking rape! I should be able to walk down the street naked, drunk and swinging my tits around my ears without the fear that I will get raped and murdered.

'But that's not how it is!!' I hear you cry. And my question is why the fuck not? 'You don't leave your house unlocked and expect not to get robbed'. Why the fuck not? Why are we such a fucking victim blaming fucking society that the criminals get more sympathy than the victims? I don't give a fat rat's arse if you've had a shit childhood. DON'T KILL PEOPLE! There are millions of other people who had pretty terrible upbringings, and guess what? They don't kill people. They manage to keep their dick in their pants when a woman says no to sex. I don't care if you never had a Daddy to show you the way. In that case you should have more bloody respect for women coz you got raised by one solely!

I wish we would get to the stage where a woman was raped and the first thought is 'what a piece of shit man, I hope he gets life imprisonment where he gets raped every day'. A woman gets murdered and that man goes to jail for life. Not 15 years - LIFE. Meaning you die in prison. If you go to jail for rape, then rape someone when you get out, you can't be rehabilitated and your dog arse gets no more parole opportunities. Full fucking stop.

So no, I won't be putting my dress out. Because if you put your dress out, then continue to tolerate sexist behaviour, nothing will change. Here's what I will be doing though.

I will be teaching my son, that violence against women is disgusting. I will teach him that you don't need friends that joke about rape. I will teach him what consent REALLY is. I will always take exception when a man makes an inappropriate joke around me. I will tell Tony Abbott that he can take my vote & shove it fair up his misogynist arse. I will write to my MP. I will stick up for my fellow women. I will loudly and repeatedly tell people that violence against women is not ok. And I will fight with everything I've got if a man ever decides that I'm an easy target. He better hit me so hard that I don't get up. Because if I get up - he's a fucking dead man. 

GIRL POWER YOU RAPING MURDERING PIECES OF DOG SHIT.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

Why jokes about rape are really not funny.

Any views expressed here are strictly my own. I don't speak for anyone else but myself.

Trigger warning - this post talks about sexual abuse and may upset some people.

I cottoned on to a little story in social media this week, about a comedian and a joke about rape.  A woman in the audience took offense and staged a silent protest by getting #UnderTheTable. Comedian took offense to her taking offense and cuts set short. Male comedian then tells female audience member (I have paraphrased here) but basically because she ruined his set, she should die. Tweets that he 'ended up having my worst gig ever'. 

Here's a smh article about it.
http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/comedy/comedian-ray-badran-tells-audience-member-to-die-for-objecting-to-rape-joke-20150327-1m9hgb.html?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=nc&eid=socialn:twi-13omn1677-edtrl-other:nnn-17/02/2014-edtrs_socialshare-all-nnn-nnn-vars-o&sa=D&usg=ALhdy28zsr6qiq

Here's a mamamia article about it written by the woman in question. http://www.mamamia.com.au/lifestyle/rape-jokes-told-by-comedians/

I wasn't actually there at his show, so I don't know exactly what happened. Maybe the joke was the straw that broke the camel's back after a long day. Maybe the comedian had just read a bad review and he took the insult to heart. I don't know. But here's what I do know.

JOKES ABOUT RAPE, BEING A RAPIST, KNOWING A RAPIST, WITNESSING SOMEONE BEING RAPED, SUGGESTING RAPE -  ARE NOT FUNNY.

Not in any circumstance, in any situation, in any company.

I tweeted something along the lines of this, and it started up a dialogue with a few of my Twitter pals about why such a big deal was being made of this. Not surprisingly, said Twitter pals, were male.  Now the dialogue was kept pretty above board. It wasn't the usual 'fuck u ya slag', 'that time of the month is it?', 'you need to get laid so you can have a laugh' comments that usually get thrown around by men when I start a conversation about not making violence against women jokes. So I appreciate that. But here's a few things I'd like to note:

2 women are week are killed by domestic violence and I'm pretty sure that's increasing. Women earn less than men for doing the same job, will have less superannuation when they retire, were granted the right to vote after men, fuck there's even laws stating what we can and can't do with our body including contraception & abortion. Here's what we're up against. Century upon century of inequality, being told we're just on this planet to please men, being told we are somehow sub-par to our Y chromosome holding peers. If you're religious, this shit gets even worse and I'm not even going to mention the Sharia Law atrocities that are committed against women.

Statistically, women are more likely than men to be raped. I think the stats sit at around 1/3 of women experiencing some form of sexual assault in their lifetime. That doesn't factor in, that there are many, MANY women who don't come forward to report the abuse. I'm one of them. There are 4 women in my close family. The stats are 100% for us. 

Personally, I've been raped twice. I don't go around advertising it, I don't introduce myself as the girl that's been raped, but it has and still does affect me. Like when someone thinks a rape joke is funny perhaps.

Both times, it was by men whom I thought I could trust. Who EXPLICITLY TOLD ME that I could trust them. I knew them, and had known them for a few months before they raped me. Both times I had turned down their previous sexual advances several times.  Both were significantly older than I. Both times I was drunk.

And there it is.....I can hear the collective groan from here. Yep, I was drunk. I was stupid enough, to let down my defences in front of men who I thought, no, who ASSURED me that I could trust them. And THAT is why I didn't report it. Because the go to commentary of rape is that the woman had it coming. That they shouldn't have been drunk because 'what did they expect?'. That they led the bloke on. They shouldn't have worn x, y, z. Does it change your perception if I tell you that both times it was in my house? Not in a sleazy nightclub. I didn't go home with them. Does it make a difference that both times, I wasn't dressed up at all. In fact I believe I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt with no make up and no hair do because it was IN MY HOUSE with PEOPLE WHO I THOUGHT I COULD TRUST.

You know what else was the same? BOTH times, they told me it was MY fault. That they couldn't control themselves because I was so pretty/sexy/irresistible. Both times these men made me feel like I should be ashamed of myself. Both times they made me feel like I should be flattered that they violated me. Both times I felt like I couldn't speak out and have these men held accountable for their actions.  I felt powerless because society has ingrained in me since I was very little that women are second class citizens. That women get raped because of something they did. Because there are men out there, like Ray Badran, who make jokes about rape and rapists for the sake of getting laughs from a few knuckle dragging, dead shit blokes who think it's funny. They think it's ok because 'Chris Rock said it was the funniest thing he'd heard!' They minimise it. They make light of it. They wolf whistle and touch women they don't know, and they think it's their RIGHT to do it. That is has no impact and that it doesn't matter. That 'it's a compliment love!' That we should 'lighten up!'. That it's no big deal. We live in a victim blaming society & it's not ok.

If a women takes exception to this they're a bitch, a 'feminazi', they have no sense of humour 'coz "gawd it was JUST a joke GET OVER IT!" Heaven forbid a woman doesn't find herself flattered that you want to stick your dick in her. 

I get it. It's hard to relate to something you've never experienced. If you haven't had someone violate your personal space and tell you your feelings about it are 'hysterical', then you wouldn't understand what it's like if someone makes a joke about it. I can guarantee that any man who's been raped, doesn't find rape jokes funny. I guarantee than any man who has his wife/partner/sister/mother raped doesn't find rape jokes funny.

If you're a man reading this, humour me for a second. Imagine you get drunk, pass out, and wake up the next day with a sore arse. You shit blood for a week and you find out it's because your mate thought you looked cute in those jeans, so when you were so drunk you couldn't move he had sex you with you. Do you go to the police, because I mean what do you tell them? You don't remember exactly what happened because you were drunk. Your friend tells you that you asked him for it before you passed out. You don't remember this, you've never been interested in this friend when you're sober, but you were drunk so you don't remember. You like this guy, he's a good mate. He tells you that he will never do it again, that he's sorry. He's not normally like this but you are just such a good looking guy. How do you feel?

Then imagine you go out with some friends to try and take your mind off of things. You're feeling a little precious. Then some guy makes a joke about shoving his cock up someone's arse. His mates laugh. 'Coz it's super funny right? Right??

If you're a comedian, roughly half of your audience is female. At least a third of them have experienced some sort of violence sexual or otherwise. If you then tell them that they 'should die' because they didn't find your joke about assaulting someone side-splitting, then you my friend, are a piece of shit. If you object to someone standing up to your disgusting gag about violating someone who will suffer lifelong trauma, then you're a fucking arsehole. If your whole repertoire as a comedian consists of jokes making light of someone else's nightmare, then you're a terrible comedian.

Because rape IS a big deal. It creates wounds that never heal, it kills people's hope, it changes lives irreparably. A person never gets over being raped. They maybe don't flinch when someone touches them anymore. They maybe have a functioning job, a functioning social life and have learned to like sex again. 

But they don't find your joke about rape funny.

Because it isn't. Ever. Because rape is #NotALaughingMatter.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

ADIT: I appreciate that women are not the only demographic who have been down-trodden throughout history. For the record I don't find any abuse against anyone amusing, child, animal, racial or otherwise. But for the purpose of this post, I've focused on rape.

Why Nursing prepared me for Nappies & vice-versa

So there's only a few more months until I return to work, and I'm freaking out a little. I will have had almost a whole year off actual Registered Nursing (not breastfeeding nursing just FYI sanctimonious mummies and who gives a fuck anyway thank you very much) and it got me thinking "wholly heck! I can't look after another person!" And then I had a 'duh' moment and got to thinking about how Nursing and Mummy-ing are similar in a lot of ways.

1. You are constantly covered in someone else's body fluids

Be it spit, vomit or the cliche 'code brown', Nurses and Mums are used to being covered in fluid that they didn't produce themselves. You just kinda wipe it off and get on with the job. Funny story - every nurse has their 'thing'. The thing they can't handle & will gag at, for example phlegm, runny shit etc. Mine was breastmilk. Well guess what haters? I'm unstoppable now!!

2. You have to put your own needs second to those of the tiny human/big human in your care

Oh you're hungry? Well guess what Nurse/Mum? No one cares. Your patient doesn't care. The tiny dictator living in your house doesn't care.  You can try and have some lunch when you think it's an acceptable hour to have it, but then the tiny dictator/patient will code brown/just code and you will end up having lunch at 3pm and by then you won't be hungry anymore so you'll just have 4 Scotch fingers and a coffee and wonder why you're fat.

3. Along with No. 2, sleep is something you vaguely remember from 'back in the day'

E.g. Before you were a student nurse, before you started shift work, before you had a child. Sleep is non-existent when you're a Nurse and/or Mum. You learn to function on a few broken hours. You're not sure how you do it, but you do. On the rare occasion you get 8 hours straight sleep, you actually wake up feeling worse because your body isn't used to resting to it's potential and you wake up wondering what year it is.

4. You have to have an enormous bladder & pelvic floors like a baws

Self explanatory no? The moment you need to pee, will be the moment your baby wakes up and needs a feed/play/rock to sleep/nappy change/your soul. The moment you need to pee, will be the moment you have to hang 5 IV's/do obs/wash your patient/do your notes. They don't call it 'nurses bladder' for nothing. Also, the more you hold pee, the better your pelvic floor muscles. Everyone knows that after a baby, those little suckers weaken. Nurses, have AMAZING pf muscles. Suck it child birth. You ain't got nothing.

5. Emotions run high - control that shit

Baby crying non-stop? Control yourself. Patient dying? Check your emotions. I am like the master of self control now. Nemaste motherfuckers. There have been many, MANY times when I have felt like throwing that bag of wipes across the room, flipping the change table and walking out of my life. The same with nursing. Emotions run high. You gotta control that shit! That patient that says they have 10/10 pain while they're laughing on the phone to their friend and eating a bag of chips - you can't slap them! Same as a kid that is pushing your buttons and makes you wonder why you did this in the first place. Violence is a no-go my friend. Nursing/having children makes you patient as a saint. Or at least knowledgeable in the places you can go and cry silently without anyone noticing.

6. You have control over someone's life

Whether a little person or a big person, their life is pretty much in your hands. They trust you to do what's best for them. They have complete faith that you will make the right decision. Whether it's making sure they get the right drugs, to whether they have complete faith that you will look after their every need. When you stop & think about that, it's terrifying. That's why you should not think about it. I said don't think about it! STOP THINKING ABOUT IT!!!

7. You wouldn't change it even if you had the chance

The possibility of an admin job came up for me. I literally shuddered. The same as being a parent. You just ARE a Mum. You just ARE a Nurse. The thought of being anything else kinda makes your soul hurt a little. Even though you hate it sometimes, even though you wish you could change it sometimes, even though the thought of waking up to another day of patient/baby makes you die a little inside sometimes, you wouldn't change it for the world. The thought of NOT being a Mum/Nurse makes you change your perception of yourself. It's just who you are and that's that. It doesn't make you better than anyone. Except it kind of does. Nurses are awesome. Mums are awesome. So, I hate to say it, but Mums who are also Nurses, are kind of like super stars. Sweaty, poo covered, exhausted, cranky super stars.

Cheers,
Qld Nurse.

#VaccinateYourKidsStupid

I have spent tonight arguing with dickheads on the internet about vaccinations. And you know what? I'm fucking furious. I'm ropeable. I can't sleep thinking about how I'd like to herd these people up and expose them to all the preventable diseases they believe they don't need to be vaccinated against just to see how they'd fare.

Because I have a baby. And I have a brain. And to me, those two things should be synonymous. But apparently they're not.

In the news recently, a 32 day old baby died from pertussis, or whooping cough as it's more commonly known. I can't even imagine the heartbreak those parents must be feeling. A 32 day old baby isn't old enough to be vaccinated. A 32 day old baby doesn't have the immune system required to fight off an infection. A 32 day old baby relies on the common sense of adults around them to get a jab in the arm that will greatly reduce the likelihood of contracting whooping cough. And I can tell you now, that if my baby died from someone who refused to get vaccinated, I would cut a bitch. Not metaphorically. Not jokingly. I would literally. CUT. A. BITCH.

If a child gave that baby the infection, I don't blame the child. I blame the parents. As a child, you don't have the option of requesting that you be vaccinated. You rely on the adults in your life having the common sense to vaccinate you. So I blame the adults in that child's life. The unbelievably uninformed, should not have been able to procreate adults.

I blame the stupid, non-informed, blog following, internet diagnosing fucking idiots who would disbelieve 99% of medical professionals and go ahead and NOT vaccinate their child because AUTISM. I had some waste of jizz tell me tonight that 'most medical professionals don't even read a medication insert'. For realsie dickhead? MOST medical professionals that I know, and you know, BEING a medical professional I sometime hang around medical professionals, well us medical professionals have to look up ALL the side effects of EVERY medication we give to ANYONE. In the case of a child that shit is doubled. Another nominee for the Darwin Awards told me that 'big pharma' create the illness to create the vaccine for money. Vaccinations for kids are free. You fucking genius. Seriously. Do these people have to remind themselves to breathe? How have they survived this long without licking a power socket??

Yeah, you know what? Some kids have a reaction to vaccinations. And that's really really really sad. Is it as sad as a kid dying from some vegan, organic eating, mummy blogging hippy who read that gluten & vaccinations cause autism so they opted not to vaccinate and then contracted measles but they were ok however the kid too young to get vaccinated died from hydrocephalus? No. No it's not. Some kids CAN'T get vaccinated. And that USED to be ok, because herd immunity existed. Herd immunity no longer exists because fucking playboy bunnies & movie stars decided to do a Google search to blame something for the fact their kids didn't turn out the way they expected.

You know what blaming autism on vaccinations does? It makes the mums with autistic vaccinated kids feel like shit. Because if you have a kid that doesn't 'fit the mould' you already go through every possible fucking explanation as to why that is. Maybe I ate too much sugar in pregnancy? Maybe that paracetamol really did affect them? Maybe it IS vaccinations! You know what really sucks?? You're autistic kid being ventilated in ICU because you didn't vaccinate them because AUTISM. Would you rather a dead kid than an autistic one? Would you rather a child that doesn't know who you are because they have permanent brain damage from contracting measles?

http://howdovaccinescauseautism.com/

Look that site up. And every time an anti-vaxxer Googles some meme that shows a kid crying with a huge needle, send them that link. BECAUSE GOOGLE IS REAL YOU GUYS!

Study after scientific study has shown that vaccinations are safe. Do some people have side effects? Yep. Do some people have side effects from drinking milk? Yep. Should we ban milk? Do some people have side effects from having peanuts? Yep. Let's ban peanuts everywhere then! I have a physical reaction to stupidity so does that mean I can stop stupid people by any means necessary?? Oh please say yes....

I firmly believe in the no jab no play policies being implemented. If you don't want to vaccinate your kid, then you know what? Keep them home with you, home school them, feed them from your own veggie garden and cow paddock, with home slaughtered chicken or whatever. Don't EVER take them to the hospital if they're sick, because those doctors are just trying to make money off you. Because you know what makes REAL money? The thousands and thousands of dollars of medicine that needs to be pumped into your kid when they contract measles, or whooping cough, or Hep B. And if you think Hep B is a STI you're an idiot and you deserve to die from Hep B. Seriously.

I honestly cannot believe the stupidity and hypocrisy of the anti-vaxxers on the internet. I cannot believe that most of these people class themselves as highly educated. I cannot believe that these people are running around without their tin foil hats on.

If you believe 'big pharma' are making money off vaccines, does your naturopath give you 'natural immune boosting herbs' for free? Does your 'organic' lifestyle come without a price tag?

No. #VACCINATEYOURKIDSSTUPID

Or die at an early age so the smart people can live longer. Kthanksbai.

Cheers,
Qld Nurse.

Parents everywhere, I'm sorry I was a bitch.

Dear parents everywhere,

I'm sorry I judged you. I'm sorry as a non-parent I thought I knew more about parenting your child than you did. I'm sorry I glared at you disapprovingly and bitched behind your back, when I should have been offering you a foot rub and carrying your groceries for you.

As a fairly new parent myself, I've had some time to reevaluate my stance on a lot of things I was pretty sure I was an expert on. These things I will never, EVER judge another parent for doing, EVER AGAIN.

Their screaming child

In a plane, in the supermarket, in the restaurant, fuck any public place in the world. I will now, simply give them a knowing 'I've been there' smile and offer to pay for the bottle of vodka I recommend they buy. When we bought my bub home, he screamed. All. The. Time. I was basically a hermit for the first 3 months we had him home due to the fear of death glares I would receive when we went anywhere where the noise level was less than 3,000 decibels. Now, I don't give a fuck. He's a baby and he'll scream if he wants to. Don't get me wrong, I try and stop the screeching but let me give the non-parents a heads up. The sound of a baby crying to YOU is annoying. Possibly mildly headache inducing. I know, I've been you. But to the parent, it is SOUL DESTROYING. Especially if they have tried everything they have in their parent repertoire and it's not working. So take whatever feelings you have, multiply them by 10, and shove that look fair up your arse. I take back every time I did it, because trust me, karma was in fact a bitch.

Feeding your child shit food

My bub is below the 3rd percentile in weight. He was born this way as he was growth restricted in-utero and has followed the line so far. He's healthy, but the fact that he is little plays on my mind constantly. His weight is in the forefront of my brain the majority of the time. He has started solids, and it's a mission trying to get the food down him. Before this, and still now, trying to get him to take a bottle was/is a mission where basically an hour or two was spent being covered in milk/formula and ended in us both in tears. The boob was even worse. It got to the stage where I would have gladly fed him strawberry milk if it meant that he drank it and put on weight like he was supposed to. It's a fight. Every. Single. Fucking. Time. And the constant worry about whether he's getting enough nutrition is quite literally making my hair fall out. So if feeding your child Maccas once a week means your resting heart rate is actually within normal range for once, you go on with your bad self mumma. No judgement here. Well, no judgement anymore.

Not looking like a supermodel or 'letting yourself go' as it's so fondly referred to

My elbow at the present moment is so dry it hurts. Mostly due to the fact that moisturising is number 723 on my list of priorities right now. Make up? You're lucky if I brush my hair before leaving the house most of the time. In fact I only washed it today because I couldn't remember the last time I had.  I know, I know, how does my husband control himself right? I used to think 'gosh when I have kids I'll make sure I still look presentable, how embarrassing for that women with eyebrows like caterpillars'. As a mum now, showering is a luxury & not necessarily a priority. I'm so tired that my eyes are blurry 75% of the time, so sometimes I don't notice that bit of throw up on my shoulder until I'm out in the blaring, non-forgiving light of day. And you know what? It took me 25 minutes to get out of the house in the first place, so you can bet your left nut I'm not going home now to change for a little bit of spit up. Deal with it. If you don't like what you see, don't look. I'm not here for your visual pleasure cockhead. And by cockhead I am of course referring to my pre-child self.

Being late & only being available at certain times

Time has only just recently started to exist for me again, and even then it's only in the form of baby asleep & baby awake times which generally fall in 45 minute blocks. I can start preparing to go out an hour and a half before I'm supposed to be there but you can guarantee that 15 minutes before I'm due to walk out the door, a pooslosion or a vomit the size of a grown drunk man will occur and I will still be 15 minutes late. Pre-child, waiting for a post-child friend would piss me off. Now, I not only understand but expect it. Kids don't care about time. They're little arseholes. And you know what? It has taken weeks, WEEKS of non cry it out sleep training to get my child to sleep longer than 30 minutes at a time. So many tears. So little sleep. So if I have to have lunch with you at 1030am because bub's biggest nap is somewhere around 1130-130 and he won't sleep when I'm out and as a result of being tired becomes the devil with roid rage and makes me want to stab myself in the eye, well guess what? You're having lunch with me at 1030am or not at all. Thems the breaks my friend.

Anything that happens when a mother has post natal depression

The story of the mother who left her baby in a drain? Well I felt complete heartbreak for her because it was at a time when I was also considering the various ways I could escape motherhood. Pre-child, I had nothing but pure hatred and contempt for any mother that could do anything but love their child silly. Now, as someone with PND, my child is extremely lucky that we both had a great support system that stopped me from leaving him on someone's doorstep. Literally. I was also lucky to have people that could recognise that my behaviour was not me, and did not judge me for it, but rather showed concern & compassion. Because judgement would not have helped the situation in any way, shape or form. It would have made it worse. Much, much worse. Because I can guarantee that whatever judgements you were passing about me, I was passing them on myself but twenty times worse. When you have a child that literally screams for hours on end, every single fucking day, the future looks bleak my friends. You add in the hormones of breastfeeding, a traumatic birth, the pressure of society, the mummy guilt and health problems, you've got a cocktail that I like to call 'shit just got real and it stinks'. With this point especially, I cannot apologise profusely enough. My pre-kid self was a judgemental, know-it-all cunt and I take back every Judgey McJudgepants comment I ever made about a mum with PND.

That age old saying of 'don't judge someone until you've walked in their shoes' is actually pretty accurate when it comes to parenting. I had no idea what being a parent was like, and all my friends and family that just gave me that 'you don't know what the fuck you're on about' smile whenever I started a sentence with "when I have kids......", well guys, I get it. I get it now. And I'm sorry I was a bitch.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.

My advice to myself a year ago.

So again, I haven't blogged in a while. Due to the fact that I have 5kg dictator living in my house who takes up 90% of my time. The other 10% is split between cleaning up after said dictator, having follow ups at the horse piddle, Dr & specialist appointments, trying to get more than 4 hours sleep a day and the occasional brush of my hair and teeth with a shower thrown in. I'm not gonna lie to you, my husband is one lucky man. *sarcasm font*

My little boy born 11 weeks early and 900 grams has had the farthest thing from an easy journey. We have had numerous health issues due to his prematurity and he's been in a lot of pain for the majority of his tiny existence. It doesn't help that he also has a really determined, stubborn personality (definitely not from me..... *cough*) and can be a right little shit sometimes.  He's decided that the latest fad is fighting naps - which works out well for both of us. *sarcasm font again* Add to that, the fact his guts has now deteriorated to the point that he won't poo unaided we have a little bundle of fucking joy on our hands.

Anyway....

It was almost to the day last year, I was just starting to grow this little terrorist and today is 15 days before the anniversary of when I found out that I was with child. So I thought I would write some advice to myself a year ago..... So here goes!

1. You've wanted a child for so long that you've fantasized it in your head. You don't know you have, but you have. Be prepared for when it doesn't work out like you thought it would. Not everyone has the same journey and that's OK. It doesn't make you a failure. It doesn't make your journey a failure. It just makes it different.

2. You know it's going to be hard. Multiply what you think is hard by about 10,000 and you're about a tenth of how hard it will actually be.  You will find a strength within yourself you never knew you had. You will also see a strength in your husband that you never knew he had. It's hot. Go with it.

3. You think night shift has prepared you for the sleeplessness?! Oh you poor fool. The babies that sleep through the night at 3 weeks are few and far between and lady, the luck you've had? Well you've got Buckley's chance! Suck it up, it won't last forever. The sleeplessness will subside in the same amount that the baby-ness will, so choose which one you want to go faster.

4.  When someone offers to help you, TAKE IT UP! Don't feel guilty, don't question it, just say thank you and go and do something for yourself. Like shower. It's been a couple of days and that old milk smell is ripe!

5.  You will have a million and one pieces of advice from people who you think know what they're talking about. Take on board what they say, then do what works for you. Trust your instincts! They weren't kidding about 'mother's instincts'. You will just know.  Most times you will be right.

6.  Along those lines, if you think something is wrong, keep insisting until you're satisfied with the answer! Doctors don't know everything, and you spend 24 hours a day with your kid. You know when something is wrong. There's answers out there, sometimes you just have to act a little 'crazy tired new mum' to get them.

7.  Your baby can't read books. He doesn't know what he's 'supposed' to do whatever you think he's supposed to do. So step away from Dr/Physio/OT Google. A little bit of information can be really dangerous.

8.  Admitting that you're struggling doesn't make you a failure. It doesn't make the other mums who have 'easy' babies more successful. Comparing yourself to other mums, comparing your baby to other babies, it will just eat you up and make you sad. Just roll with it. It will be over before you know it and you'll wonder why you spent the last 10 years worrying about what everyone else was doing instead of enjoying your kid.

9. Finally - get some help a lot earlier than you think you need help.  Who cares what others think?  Who cares if it's unnecessary? Help is help. Stop being so proud you loser.

So in summation, motherhood is a fuckload harder than I thought/imagined/fantasized it would be. But you know what? There's help out there. Sometimes you just need to know where to ask for it.

PS Hats off to you single mummas, or mummas with husbands that work far away. Respect yo.

Cheers,

Qld Nurse.