Welcome Back - On Returning to Newcastle

Well, we've been back in Newcastle for a month now; it has gone so quickly. (But then, it sometimes feel like I just wrote this. And when I did write that post, back in 2007, I remember a then-colleague of mine telling me, the world's oldest teenager, that I'd return to Newcastle with a husband a child. How I laughed at such a ridiculous notion).

All that I can't leave behind

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So You Want a Real War on Drugs?

It's been said that the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. So it was with a heavy heart that, in light of the recent debate about the failed war on drugs, we braced ourselves for the re-hashed opinion of Angela and Tony Wood, parents of Anna, who died after taking an ecstasy tablet in 1995. Mr and Mrs Wood appear in the media every time drugs are debated, gamely determined to prove they are out for revenge and have learned absolutely nothing.

This time it's an article by Adele Horin, whose writing I normally admire but who has sadly been sucked in by the Woods' peddling of their zero-tolerance message. The Woods want a "real" war on drugs. Ignoring any evidence that the war has failed, ignoring that the actual drug laws in place at the time of her death were certainly not in favour of harm minimisation - even ignoring that harm minimisation policies may have saved Anna's life by alerting her friends to the need for medical attention when Anna first became ill - they seek to somehow get revenge on drugs and their distributors by advocating harsh penalties for drug use and possession. Of course, a real zero tolerance policy for drug use and possession would mean that their own daughter, if she had been caught that night with the ecstasy tablet before she had taken it, could have faced a maximum prison term of two years (unlikely for a first offence, but a zero tolerance policy would surely advocate for harsh sentences as a deterrent). Would they have wanted her to go to jail? Hell no (they said so themselves in the execrable book written about her death). The penalties are for other people's kids, not pretty white girls from the Upper North Shore.

 If they were just soothing their grief with their delusions, then I wouldn't care so much. The problem lies in the influence the Woods and others like them have on the formation of drug policy. In the years since Anna's death, we've seen the introduction of sniffer dogs - expensive, ineffective in dealing with the larger issue as targeting mostly young people in possession of small amounts of drugs, and dangerous; young people have died after seeing sniffer dogs, panicking, and consuming all their drugs immediately to avoid detection. Demonising drugs and drug use have exacerbated the very conditions that killed Anna Wood - young people are not turned off taking drugs; if anything their illicit nature increases the allure. But when things go wrong, they are too afraid to get help.

That's the problem I have with Angela and Tony Wood. Their policies are dangerous, even deadly. How many other young people must die or have their lives shattered before they consider their daughter's death avenged? And of course, they and their ilk contribute to the disasterous global war on drugs. Angela and Tony Wood say that in Australia we just have a skirmish on drugs. They want a real war on drugs. So let me be the first to suggest they move to Mexico. Maybe if they see the war on drugs there, they might finally learn something.

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Levelling Up On Motherhood

The new, first time mother is the subject of much mirth. She is expected to be oversensitive, paranoid, laying down the rules of what she will and will not do with her child, worried about everything. It was certainly true for me with BabyG. I obsessed about germs and sniffles. Dummies which fell on a freshly mopped floor were boiled for five minutes before going back in his mouth. I changed his clothes three times a day. The first time he fell off the bed (all babies do this at least once), I was ready to call 000, until DH the paediatric nurse talked me out of it.

That was then. Fast forward to today, when I bought BabyG a raisin cookie to keep him entertained whilst I did the shopping. He enjoyed the cookie greatly. He enjoyed it all over his clothes and hair and face, in fact. And as we passed a woman wheeling her newborn in a Bugaboo, delicately wrapped beneath a beautifully embroidered bunny rug, I heard her mutter about never letting her baby get that messy. I had a small chuckle, and realised I have levelled up; I am no longer a "new" mother. For I vowed I'd never let my baby get that messy, either. How else could I tell?

Realising BabyG's pants are on backwards and merely being grateful that, after ten minutes of wrangling, I managed to get them on him at all (that old line about dressing a toddler being like trying to get an unhappy octopus into a string shopping bag without any of the tentacles sticking out? A breeze compared to BabyG). 

Hearing a thump and a cry as BabyG bangs into something and yelling "be there in a minute!" then (quickly) finishing folding the laundry or mashing the potatoes.

Seeing him eat grass and figuring it's all good for his immune system. Actually, when we lived in Sydney, he would sometimes suck on the handrails on the train before we could stop him, and CityRail will surely provide him with all the immunity he could ever need, ever; there's germs on those trains that not even the CSIRO can identify.

There's slightly sad moments, too. I've already had to shop for BabyG in the boyswear departments in those insane stores that have decided size 1 does not qualify as a "baby". We have survived the first teeth. Oh, I know I have a long way to go. Toilet training is still not on the horizon, the first day of school too distant to contemplate, the first teenage sleepover - well, BabyG will never be that old, surely. I've got a lot to learn, I'm a long way off being a master. But I've levelled up from motherhood "beginner" to "novice", and I get to roll my eyes and smile knowingly at the mother who really just hopes her newborn will always be so untouched and pristine.

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