Amra Pajalic

I heard about this story on a morning show this morning and it’s completely freaked me out. Parents took bathtime photos of their three girls and submitted the memory stick, which had 177 images on it including images of their holiday, to Wal-Mart for processing. The Wal-Mart employee processing the photos interpreted 4 of the 7 bathtime photos as child pornography as there was “portion or outline or genitalia.”

The parents are now suing Wal-Mart as they lost $75,000 in legal fees, the mother a teacher was suspended from her job and then reinstated when they were cleared, they were placed on a sex-offender register and then removed, and lost custody of their children for a month. You can read about it here and here.

This is such an awful case. While children should be protected and someone who suspects child abuse and pornography should speak up, this story just illustrates the danger about lack of common-sense. These photos being interpreted as child pornography seems to be an issue of perception about what is perversion. Especially since the photos were within a series of family snaps and were in a context where nudity is required.

Like most parents I have photos of my daughter in the bath, having a shower with each of us, and playing unclothed. Who is to say that someone won’t look at these innocent photos as perversion because my daughter is unclothed, or the ones in the shower with each of us as offensive.

These parents will have their lives forever blighted by these accusations and I don’t even want to think about how this will impact on their day to day parenting. To have this awful thought in their head whenever taking a photograph or interacting with your child would be heartbreaking, and as a parent I find this scary. It makes me re-think all the photos I’ve taken over the past 8 months and how anyone could misinterpret anything.

The Advocate are running a series of article with Beyond Blue about mental illness. I was featured talking about the experience of having a parent who is a Bi Polar sufferer. Read it here.

I’m one of ten writers shortlisted for the Melbourne Prize for Literature 2009 Best Writing Award. I’m so wrapped. The shortlisted writers are diverse and it’s great that so many different writing styles are recognised. The votes are by popular vote for the Civic Award so get behind your favourite and vote here.

Best Writing Award 2009 finalists
Tom Cho — Look Who’s Morphing, Giramondo
Joel Deane — Magisterium, Arcadia
Lisa Gorton — Press Release, Giramondo
Chloe Hooper — The Tall Man, Hamish Hamilton/Penguin
Simmone Howell — Everything Beautiful, Pan Macmillan
Myfanwy Jones — The Rainy Season, Viking
Lally Katz — Goodbye Vaudeville Charlie Mudd, HLA
Nam Le — The Boat, Hamish Hamilton/Penguin
Amra Pajalic — The Good Daughter, Text
Jeff Sparrow — Killing, Melbourne University Press

It’s amazing how motherhood changes you. I don’t know if it’s the lack of sleep or brain atrophy from being home in my bubble, but I’ve been struggling with public speaking. It’s something I’m usually good at and just comes naturally. Before I had Sofia I used to look forward to any opportunity to take part in public speaking. I would still be nervous, but when I was standing up in front of people I’d be flying. Sentences would effortlessly trip off my tongue, I’d be able to plan my talk as I was going, and I’d have fun. This year I’ve had a few moments where I managed to enjoy myself, but most of the time I’m in an agony of nerves beforehand, I get up there and my brain shuts down, I can’t remember any stories, I have blank moments, and I can’t maintain my train of thought.

My confidence was getting affected by it so I’d dread the next engagement even more, then keep beating myself up about my performance, thinking of better sentences, things I should have said. I finally had a break-through and in my last presentation I felt like myself. It was effortless and fun, I could feel the audience with me and I was flying.

The only problem is I don’t know why it worked and how to replicate it again. I had a cold, slept for about 5 hours, was taking flu and cold tablets, yet I was there, present in the moment. Was it the lack of self-consciousness because I was in my cold bubble where everything felt far away, was it the fact that I could feel this audience was really interested in what I had to say because they were from the Western suburbs, was it the preparation I did in writing up index card prompts (which I didn’t end up using), was it the practice of all those talks beforehand that I agonised over and I’d finally learnt from my mistakes. I don’t know. I have a couple more talks in October so we’ll see if I can hold it together.

I also find myself struggling with reading and watching anything that features children being hurt. Even ridiculous things like a mystery novel featuring a character left in a gothic mansion by his disengaged parents. Usually I would read this novel and take it for what it is, a convention in order to give the young protagonist an opportunity to be a sleuth, now I read it and judge the parents, feel horrible about this kid being abandoned and can’t finish the novel.

I feel like I’m a mass of contradictions. I want Sofia to eat more solids and wean off the boob because I will go back to being me, having more time and freedom, yet I find myself sabotaging her efforts by giving her too much boob. It’s almost like I get scared about her weaning off and how little breastmilk she needs at this point and then I start putting her on just to keep that connection going.

I had an appointment with the specialist about carpal in my right hand and he recommended I stop breastfeeding because that might be causing the nerve compression because of fluid retention. Whenever people ask me how long will I breastfeed for I’d always say until she’d 2 years old. That way I wouldn’t focus in on the fact that she’s 8 months old and she really only needs to breastfeed until 1. But now that carpal is a factor I really need to push to get her eating more solids. If the carpal is caused by breastfeeding fluid retention, then it will ease as she drops off her feeds.

But I find myself struggling with the inevitability of her not breastfeeding anymore. That she won’t be my baby and I won’t have that primal connection with her. While the rational part of my brain recognises that this is inevitable, the other Mummy part doesn’t want to accept it. While I love seeing her grow and thrive, it also freaks me out because she’s all mine now. I have to carry her, hold her, do everything for her, and no one else can do these things for her. But that’s going to change and I won’t be the centre of her universe anymore, and she won’t be mine, and that’s the way it should be, but I find myself already mourning.

I’m going to be putting her in some from of childcare from January next year. Just a few hours a week. At this point it’s more for my sake then it is for hers. I need to transition off this crazy connection and learn to spend time without her. I know she’ll be fine. She’s one of those kids who’s easy with others and will probably have a ball, while I’ll go home and cry my arse off.