Author / Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

by Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

My name is Alex, and I’m obsessed with MasterChef Australia

Like, seriously obsessed. I’ve forgotten to watch all but one episode of Glee this season, but I get seriously grumpy when I don’t get my fix of Aussie culinary glory.

It’s just so damn good. And at this point I’d usually link to examples to show you what I mean but I’M AFRAID TO GOOGLE IT IN CASE I ACCIDENTALLY SEE WHO WINS. Which would upset me far more than is reasonable.

I felt relatively smug when I managed to predict the likely winner of the last series, but I’ve just taken a kick to the gut seeing my early pegged winner plunge into an elimination and promptly lose it.

Everything about it is wonderful. The challenges are extraordinarily freakin’ difficult. The guest judges and guest chefs are a brilliant mixture of the Nigellas and the Hestons (both appeared just this past week) and less mainstream but even more stellar culinary superstars. I’m not saying that John and Gregg aren’t brilliant, but how can they hope to compete with a contest that flies contestants to Malaysia for a masterclass with Rick Stein?

Although there is a serious dearth of announcements about cooking not getting any tougher than this, which they should really borrow from us.

Also, there’s a Greek judge. Alright, Greek Cypriot, but when you’re half a world away that’s closely related enough. And they help the contestants when they get stuck. And everyone sobs, and you can’t blame them because you can’t even begin to understand how you make a DESSERT THAT HAS TO BE SPRAY PAINTED WITH CARAMEL.

(You’re going to be doing some Googling, aren’t you?)

Oh, the huge manatee. You can keep your X Factor and your Weasels Got Talent. I know what I’ll be watching.

by Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

Reflections on Ramona: 13 months

Now that Ramona’s over a year old, we no longer fill in her baby book. Partly cos there’s no section for after 12 months, but also because now it’s past the firsts and into the everythings. So I wanted to keep a record somewhere of all the exciting things she can now do so that when she asks me years from now there’s a hope in Hell I’ll actually be able to give her an answer.

Things that make me proud…

  • Walking is old hat – progressing to a hesitant run now
  • Walking confidently in shoes
  • Standing on tiptoe to reach things
  • Opening cupboards
  • First attempts at climbing things (generally people)
  • Signing ‘finished’/’all gone’
  • Signing ‘butterfly’ whenever one is seen, but also on request in Greek or English
  • Dancing spontaneously to music, and also on request in English or Greek
  • Responding mostly reliably to questions about being hungry or finished by smiles or signing
  • Reliably pointing out ‘Mummy’s nose’, ‘X’s cheek’ and own head (asked in English or Greek) and knees. Sometimes own nose as well, occasionally feet
  • First word was Pappou! Lucky Pappou. This has been followed by ‘Daddy’, ‘Mummy / Mama’, ‘Yiayia’, ‘flower’ (or ‘wowwah’) and the spontaneous favourite: ‘hi!’
  • Animal noises: hissing like a snake, squeaking like a mouse, ‘moo’, ‘woof’ (actually ‘oof’) and ‘baa baa baa’
  • Understanding directions: going to fetch a book whether asked in English or Greek. Identifying by name four mini Moomin books: Moominpappa, Moominmama, Snorkmaiden and Moomintroll
  • Pointing out the following reliably in most books, when asked: cats, teddy bears, balls, hippos, dogs, monkeys, fish, butterflies, bees, ducks, cows, sheep, horses, bunnies, bikes, cars, drums, flowers, mice, socks, shoes
  • Starting to point out clocks, lights and mirrors when asked in English

I’m sure there are many more things. The babbling is sounding more and more like structured speech, so one of these days her language will start sounding a lot more like ours and our mutual gobbledegook will make more sense to each other. She listens a lot more, and looks up for approval when answering a question. We keep repeating simple questions and offering lots of praise and encouragement, and I insist my parents speak to her in Greek whenever possible, as well as repeating some things to her in both languages, so that she continues to have that comfort with either language.

I have no idea if she is average, or above or below. I don’t care, since she seems to be developing and learning at a nice steady pace which gives no indication that she’s struggling or unhappy; growing confidence and happiness are all that matter to me. Every week she seems to pick up half a dozen new things, some from us, some from grandparents and some from nursery. Despite being quite square-eyed as a miniature tot, she now shows no interest in the television at all but is obsessed with books. I wonder how long that’s going to last…!

I know toddlerhood and its attendant issues are right around the corner, but it’s easy to enjoy this stage of constant learning. I understand why she needs 10-11 hours sleep and a couple of hours of napping; if I took in half what she does in a day I’d be exhausted too.

Pickleface, Mummy is so proud.

Edited: Daddy insists I add that he is proud too.

by Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

Work, nursery, separation anxiety, teeth and something having to give…

Something had to give.

Let’s start with the good news. I am loving being back at work. I find that I end up laughing about something every day. And those occasional studies that talk about how mums make great employees have some truth in them, you know; my time management is better than it’s ever been, and even on slow days when the temptation strikes anyone, I’m not inclined to procrastinate (if you procrastinate with a child, you pay for it; puts you off for life). I really enjoy being me again, and I’ve had the luxury of a little time to do some of the really fun stuff, like reigniting our Twitter feed, as well as getting a far more regular content creation schedule in place.

Also, Ramona’s having more good days than bad at nursery. She’s playing outside, painting, pottering over to the book corner, etc. Today she apparently was the only child to have a proper afternoon nap, and when she woke up from it and the staff were busy soothing the others who had fallen asleep later she simply pootled over to some toys and played quietly and happily on her own. One carer said “it was like she knew to be quiet and not disturb the others, and she’s so independent; she didn’t need us!”.

Of course, increased independence can go hand in hand with separation anxiety. Although we were always careful to leave her for longer and longer periods with grandparents and eased her into nursery with half days, she’s now going through an apparently classic case of freak outs when she sees me or Ashley leaving. She’s generally happy but clingy when we get back, and I think that the day time anxiety is likely to ease quite soon.

So I wasn’t expecting it to spill over into night. I’m not even sure it has, exactly. She used to go into the cot drowsy but awake and sleep fine. She still sleeps through the night the vast majority of the time unless she’s sick or, in one case, too hot. Now she howls like a banshee when we pop her in the cot. For three days I attempted a sort of controlled crying; not giving in and picking her up, just soothing her in the cot, then leaving her for a minute or two, then silently popping her back down, etc etc. All it left was a baby who eventually slept out of the sheer exhaustion of being inconsolable. Today I snapped after half an hour of listening to her get more and more distressed, picked her up, let her lie on my tummy for five minutes until she was really sleepy, and then popped her in her cot where, after a brief wail of reproach, she slept like a log.

I feel terribly guilty now. Not because I think controlled crying is bad, because I’m sure it works well for many people. But because I think I picked the wrong time to do it. It can’t be a coincidence that this sleeping issue has appeared right when a tooth is coming through and she’s snotty and stressing out. If it was just the separation anxiety, I’m sure I could be a good What to Expect… girl and be all consistent and have a perfect bedtime routine that doesn’t deviate ever (seriously, who manages that?) and calmly sooth her, etc etc. But I ain’t that woman. I’m a woman who thinks a distressed child is distressed for a reason. She didn’t want to be rocked to bed, or to play or to read a book. She wanted soothing, from me, and she got it.

Most people would be fretting now about creating a new situation; I’m just sorry I didn’t give in earlier.

And speaking of giving in… It’s been forever since I ran. I feel very disappointed in myself and want to start again. I have all the excuses – going back to work, wanting to spend every minute I can with Ramona – and they’re all valid. But I have to find a way to find time for it again, and I know other busy mums do. It was good for me, physically and mentally, and I know I’ll have to start from scratch again, but I want to. Maybe if I start at the long weekend with the extra time I’ll have it’ll kick me into gear again.

Something had to give. And in the end it was the last of my faith in guidebooks and parenting tomes. From now on, I do what I think is right, and I trust myself.

by Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

Reflections on Ramona: Happy 1st Birthday!

Mummy with Ramona on her birthday

As some of you might have realised from the cake decoration picture I had up as Silent Sunday, we recently passed the incredible milestone of Ramona’s first birthday.

I thought about writing this post to her, but I’ve actually already done that in a way. Ashley and I each wrote a letter to her and put it away, along with her cards from everyone, for her to read when she’s older. We plan to write one each year and give her the whole lot at a milestone birthday like 18 when she can start to appreciate what’s in them. The tone of the letters was quite interestingly different; mine was a waffly description of her birth, and the things she’s learned to do, and what I find amazing about her, whereas Ashley’s was a shorter but beautifully emotional piece all about how he feels about her. The whole of which I think will make a great mixture of stories from childhood and understanding how parents can be just overwhelmed with love.

For me, being the mother of a one-year-old is, as I think with most childhood milestones, bittersweet. On the one hand, I’m truly excited at all the amazing things she can do; she walks pretty well, now, and she’s learned to clap at last! I’m very happy that we’re embarking on a journey that will see her gain even more independence and the ability to communicate clearly. She can now understand simple directions and that’s really quite amazing when I compare her to the blinky, waily, confused, wrinkled little pudding I held in my arms a year ago.

On the other hand, she’ll never be that tiny little brand new person ever again. And I find that sad. Maybe it’s the reminder of my own mortality. Maybe it’s the knowledge that, although we have a long way to go (and I’m terrified of teenagerhood), every step she learns to take already takes her further away from me. Although she suffers a little separation anxiety at nursery on and off – though mostly enjoys it – she loves being left with grandparents and doesn’t seem to mind if it’s me or Ashley with her. All of which certainly makes going back to work, which I’m thrilled I did, much easier but at the same time reminds me that although I feel like she’s an extension of me, she’s also very much her own person.

That’s the challenge of parenthood, I think. To you, they are almost literally your own flesh and blood; when they are away from you, something is missing. When they are sad, something in you is broken. When they are happy, something in you flies. When they are learning, exploring, doing, something in you delights with them every step of the way. And yet they are not you, and every move they make is for them, and must be for the them, and will be for them. Until, one day, if they choose to make it so and are lucky enough to fulfil their choice, it will be for their children.

I wish I could say this has made me even nicer to my own mother – not that I’m unpleasant to her, you understand; we are actually very close! – but I don’t think that’s how it works. Once a selfish kid, always a selfish kid.

And once a mother, always a mother.

by Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

NFPtweetup social and getting back to work

On Thursday, I had a day that felt pretty much like I had never had a baby. Okay, it began with dropping the littleun off at nursery, and I did pick her up and say a quick goodbye, but I spent the morning doing grown up things like, erm, cleaning house. Then I headed into the office to do some catching up, and was answering email queries within five minutes of stepping through the door.

I then headed over to the NFPtweetup social with my manager, Jacqui, but we didn’t end up being all that sociable, at least for the first couple of hours! Though I got to chat babies with the wonderful Rachel, Jacqui and I spent most of the time talking about work… and it was brilliant! We were bouncing around a few ideas, talking about things that have changed in the last year, talking about how we could develop one thing or another. Nothing concrete and certainly nothing I could talk about here, but it just generated this exciting atmosphere of Things To Be Done. And it made me go from happy to be going back to work to itching to get started. I was all set to start brainstorming some ideas for Monday today, but had to remind myself to enjoy my weekend and spend my last few free days soaking up as many Ramona cuddles as possible!

And those cuddles are wonderful. I will miss them. But I know from that swell of positivity and surge of determination that work is exactly where I’m meant to be.

Having said a quick hello to the lovely Steve Bridger and got a chance to meet my husband’s newest colleague, Rochelle, I then got a delicious dinner bought for me at Moshi Moshi (my first visit; quite pricey but excellent – I recommend the soft shell crab).

Thank heaven for grandparents who agree to put a squirmy little baby to bed. And thank heaven for squirmy little babies who start the next morning by giving you a just-beginning-to-be-toothy smile and a hug that melts hearts at fifty paces.

Okay, working world. Make some room: I’m ba-ack!

by Alexandra Roumbas Goldstein

Why I haven’t written an analysis of Google+

In the swirling social media maelstrom, new products, especially from the likes of Google – remember Wave? Launched with fireworks and died like a damp squib -cause a lot of excitement. And busy professionals do need to sometimes make snap judgements about whether these things are going to be worth investing time in.

However, sometimes I think people are driven more by the desire to write the ten-ways-google-plus-will-help-you-make-10-million-dollars-of-sales/donations-OMG article than to actually give the new platform or product a chance.

The thing is, it’s not brands that are going to make or break these things. They are not being built, primarily, for us to use professionally (although Google is planning a professional platform, which should be interesting). The proof of the pudding will not be whether we think on first acquaintance, with just a few hesitant conversations going on, we can build as vibrant communities here as we have on Facebook or Twitter.

Suddenly the fact that communities have a very different character depending on the platform gets forgotten. We try to apply what we’ve learned from Facebook because ‘it’s a bit like Facebook’. We try to apply what we’ve learned from Twitter because ‘there are Twitter-like elements’. We forget we have to learn some new things from Google+, if it succeeds, because it is Google+, and not anything else. Sure, tribal human behaviours online are pretty similar wherever you go, but the specific ways they manifest themselves take on quite astonishingly different flavours on different channels. Google+ will have its own.

My first approach to a new tool or platform is always, always to approach it on a personal level, as myself, and learn its etiquette, syntax and possibilities. I have to have this knowledge of this as an ordinary user if I have a hope in hell of understanding it and using it effectively as a marketing professional. Customer services breakdowns and crises happen when brands forget to be human. The basics of marketing stay pretty much the same online and off, but each individual interaction needs to be appropriately tailored.

So, while I’ve read an article or two musing on interesting points of development, I’ve deliberately shelved any premature analyses for later, and held fire on making any. Of course I have ideas about how this might go, but I like to give these things a chance to breathe and grow.

In the meantime, I’m building circles.