Mom & Dad
The Girl From Snowy River
Despite my strong, and I mean strong, preference for inner-city living and all that comes with it, my childhood was not that of your typical city-dweller. My first birthday was spent in a combi van in the northern rainforests of Australia. My holidays included trips to remote Buddhist monasteries and visits to my dad's hippy friends - who were then living a totally vegan lifestyle in a self-sustaining cottage hours away from anywhere.
A Time to Get Pregnant
When I studied Chinese formally for a year at Beijing Language and Culture University back in the halcyon, pre-fatherhood days of 2003-2004, I was one of three swotty types who sat at the front. We had the unfair advantage of having native Chinese speaker spouses (by the way, I always think the plural of "spouse" should be "spice", don't you?), and the dubious qualification of being "maturer" than the rest of the class. After we had done battle with the language for a while and discovered that the more Chinese characters we learned, the less we remembered. I recall a conversation in which a fellow square and I asked ourselves whether we would still have set out to climb the mountain that is Chinese if we had known what we were letting ourselves in for. "No," we concluded.
Pregnant at 39
Moms can spend hours browsing stores picking out the perfect pair of pajamas, the perfect bottle and the perfect mobile to hang above the crib. But ask them to name the perfect age to have a child, and they probably couldn't give you an answer.
The Golden Age
Doctors and psychologists have an equally hard time pinpointing the best time for women to have children. Some say it's as early as the late teen years, when the body is physically prepared to deal with the tolls of pregnancy, while others will claim that the late 20s are the golden period to ensure emotional stamina. Statistically, the age of first-time moms is on the rise. According to the US National Center for Health Statistics, the average age of first-time mothers in the US has jumped from 21 in 1970 to 25 in 2005. The UK Office of National Statistics reports a similar increase in the average age of first-timers, rising from 26 in 1971 to 29 in 2005.
The Littlest Brother
Just over five years ago, my littlest brother came into the world. I must say, I was not prepared in the slightest. I watched my stepmother plod around the house, her weight steadily increasing along with her belly. I watched as she brewed batch after batch of foul-smelling Chinese herbs - designed to cure everything from nausea to back pain. I got so used to her being pregnant that I began to consider it a permanent state. Then Edward was born.
My father already had two adult children: me and my brother Huw. A baby sibling put us more in the position of aunt and uncle than elder brother and sister. Huw took to his new role like a fish to water. He was in the hospital when Edward was born; he was there when Edward was safely delivered home; he was the first to show the baby what a car radiator was (whether or not that sunk into little Edward's brain is another issue).
The Right Fit
How fondly I remember that day one year ago when I cavalierly said to my wife Savvy, "I'll do it." How hard could it be to figure out Reina's education options and choose a school? We're talking about kindergartens. It's not like picking a university, right? Foolish, foolish Baba.
Diary of an Expectant Mother
The idea of having another child had been on the cards for sometime, so last summer, while on holiday in Europe, my husband and I decided to expand our family. I have survived two relatively easy pregnancies in Australia. How different could it be in China?
Beach Baby
I don't mean to fulfill an Australian stereotype, but I'm a beach kid. I grew up by the beach, my summers were spent at the beach, and when my family moved to the city, we simply migrated to the local pool instead.
My father taught me how to swim the old-fashioned way: by throwing me into a pool at the age of one. Thankfully, I floated. With time and practice I was able to maneuver my way through the rough surf of Victoria's coastline. Now, I must interject that not all of Australia's beaches are of the tropical kind. Where I grew up, we were lucky if the waves were less than a meter high and the water didn't turn your toes blue. But I loved it nonetheless.
When I moved to Beijing, my bathers (that means swimsuit to everyone not from Melbourne) came with me. But alas, no water was to be found. No more sandy coastlines. No backyard sprinklers to run under. Not even a baby pool to sit in. I was gobsmacked. How could a city that hovers at 35 degrees Celsius for six months out of the year not be brimming with pools?
Ordering Pizza in Beijing
When we moved here, I had big plans for the kids. They would learn to speak Chinese, eat Chinese and appreciate all things Chinese. I had no idea there would be so many pizza joints within a one-mile radius of our very un-Chinese house in the heart of Shunyi. Going native isn't as easy as I imagined it would be.
School Days
The month of May marks six months since we kicked our son Daniel out of the nest - albeit only as far as nursery school, I hasten to add. Monday to Friday, 8am 'til 5pm, he is officially outsourced to the Montessori nursery school in the wilds of Tiantongyuan where we live, outside the orbit of the Fifth Ring Road. Six months ago, I confess, it felt like we were cutting him loose. I really wasn't sure it was the right thing to do. Every child and parent must go through the traumatic first day of school experience at some stage, but at 2 and a half years old?
Please Pass the Cheese Sauce
How did we end up at this impasse? I'm sitting at the table trying to convince Reina of the benefits of eating her vegetables. You know, the usual arguments: She will grow up big and strong, her hair will be silky, her grade point average will be 17 percent higher, she will be 60 percent less likely to need glasses (which is important considering both her parents wear corrective lenses) and when all else fails, the road to ice cream is paved with veggies. To which she responds in her adorably witty repartee, "Baba, you are silly."
