Standing on the edge of the bridge I recalled my instructions, count from one to 10 and then jump. The instructor had told me very clearly not to look down. The man beside me started the count, "One, two, " I joined in, "three, four, five ... " I could do this part. We got to 10 together successfully and then I looked down. I looked a long way down, I began to think about falling 50, 100 feet, to consider the flimsy elastic that was attached to my ankles and I began to worry, "What if I trip?" Then in a flash, I decided not to think, just to jump, and I jumped. I fell and fell, blaspheming loudly, until finally I began to feel the elastic pull against my weight and I started to bounce, as I hung upside down over the river, I laughed.

In a long list of wild, crazy and even stupid things I have done, bungee jumping was just one. These days, my life on the edge constitutes having one too many cups of coffee. I have tradedfast driving for infant car seats, late night partying for little bodies hogging my bed, and reckless abandon for the constant responsibility for lives I love more than my own. Parenting is a sacrifice, no matter who you are, where you come from, or what the circumstance. Your child is born, and life changes.

Gruesome story

There was a gruesome story in the papers this last weekend, teachers calling for sex education to be taught to children in basic/primary schools. A teacher relayed the story of a girl performing oral sex on a boy in class. The children were apparently under the age of six. When the principal approached the mother of the girl, the mother's explanation was that she had thought the child was asleep when she was watching movies that highlighted these acts. The rather unbelievable implication being that the child had learnt oral sex from movies.

What this mother needed to sacrifice when she had her children was her pornographic movies, she may even need to sacrifice her 'partner' who may well be abusing her daughter, along with all the financial stability that comes with him. Experts claim that one of the clearest signs of sexual child abuse is children engaging in inappropriate sexual acts at an early age. Not making some sacrifices is also abuse.

Who am I?

Some may defend the mother; she probably does not have the luxury of a private room; her partner might put food on the table. Who am I, who only had to sacrifice the occasional jump off a bridge for my children, to criticise this woman? But, if we defend the mother, then who defends the child?

In another story, Children's Advocate, Mary Clarke, sent a stern warning to parents who left babies unattended, that they would meet the full force of the law. Yet, the threat seemed empty, because what it lacked was the exact penalty for such a crime. The article noted that 20 children had died last year and five already this year, in such circumstances when their home caught fire, yet, despite the obvious extent of the neglect, there are no teeth in bite of our laws. In calling the Children Services division, I am told that neglect, which in the case of injury, can constitute child abuse, therefore, a parent could face up to six months or $500,000 under the Child Care Protection Act.

Truthfully, having children is not a sacrifice. Sitting beside my two-year-old, she drops her hand on to my forearm, carelessly she strokes my hand. I glimpse her, all wrapped up in her thoughts, quietly happy, she takes a few tugs on her soother. I glance at my older daughter, she looks at me with that expression that shouts, "WHAT?" She takes it for granted, a mother's love, my son gives me a sweet, shy smile. This is my new thrill, and it beats jumping off a bridge ANY DAY.