An honest account of being a first time mum

Archive for January, 2012


When baby2011 was about 5 days old he fell asleep after a feed. I wrapped the fragile, tiny newborn up in a blanket more carefully than you would a million £ antique. I tip toed up the stairs quieter than I’d ever done before. Then I crept over to the bedroom, his  Moses basket in sight and…wacked his perfect new born head on the door frame. “Waaaaaah!”

That’s confession one! There are, unfortunately for him, quite a few more.

I do think as a mum you’re under a lot of pressure to be perfect. My health visitor wisely said to me (3rd visit after the first fateful one!!) that the only pressure mothers are under is pressure from themselves.

We are the only ones who freak if our babies cry in Tescos or puke on the floor in Starbucks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you can control it!

I definitely felt (and still feel) the pressure to be perfect. To have the perfectly behaved baby and to appear like everything is straightforward and easy peasy.

Eeeerm, well thank the lord for gcse drama and a level theatre studies! Maybe I’m fooling a few.

God I’ve done so many stupid things since baby2011 arrived. I blame sleep deprivation. And hormones! Yes it must be hormones.

And seeing as this blog is becoming somewhat cathartic I confess to being less than perfect as a mum.

I once (actually maybe more) swigged jack Daniels out the bottle at 08.45 when baby2011 was a few days old. Arguably it did us both good.

The first time baby2011 wee’d up in the air with no nappy on I put my hands up to stop me getting a face full and it all went back all over him.

I always did and still do let baby2011 sleep in my arms so I can watch This Morning without having to run up and down stairs.

If baby2011 throws his dummy on the floor I lick it and he has it back.

I have to put In The Night Garden on to persuade him to eat, sleep and play nicely for 5 minutes so
I can unload the dishwasher. I’ve watched 6 episodes today and I really dislike upsy daisy (tarty!) and wonder whether the tombliboos are well looked after…i reallydon’t understand how makka pakka is smaller than iggle piggle but whatever!

Baby2011 sleeps on his front and his nursery is 21 degrees.

When the little monkey won’t eat any of my homemade, slaved in the kitchen for hours to make meals he has fish fingers, garlic bread and chips…

Baby2011 probably falls and bangs his head about 3 times a day.

Yes, I have visited lots of baby modelling websites to see how much he could earn us. And yes, he was so much cuter than any of the uglies on the site!

At baby2011’s first derby day I drank 3 glasses of champers and 2 glasses of wine and then
breast fed him in a tent listening to the commentary of my horse (Pour Moi) winning me about £60.

I still walk him round and sway until
he falls asleep. Then place him in his cot holding my breath in case he wakes as he touches he mattress.

I turn the plug off and let him play with my phone charger. It keeps him
Quiet for 5 minutes…

I’m liberal with calpol.

Baby2011 and i have had some awesome times and he can’t even talk yet! He’s my best mate that little fellow.

Being perfect is soooooooooooo dull!


Eye gouging

There are severe punishments for eye gouging in most sports. Fish hooking (sticking your finger in opponents mouth and hooking their cheek) is even banned from wrestling. Head butting (the stag do favoured show of testosterone) can see you in prison. Hair pulling, doesn’t warrant the same severe punishments as the aforementioned actions, but it bloody hurts.

Baby2011 has mastered all of these actions beautifully.

To get him to bed tonight I have been head butted twice, been scalped and he fell asleep with his fingers fish hooking my left cheek. I’m battered and bruised.

But this is a small price to pay for an easy bedtime with the next stop being the divine sound of fridge open, glass out of cupboard, unscrew, glug glug glug glug, sip, sigh, aaaaahhhhhh.

Injuries aside, I’m stupidly, head over heels in love with baby2011. Of course I always have been, but this week his character has developed even more. I know him better. I can see he understands me. It’s weird. But amazing.

I have spent most of the last week saying; NO *disappointed face*, and CAREFUL *shit he’s going to fall and clonk his head face*, and STOP *if you eat my bank statement or the christmas thank you notes I’ve just addressed and stamped I’ll give you to the gypsies face*. He’s hilarious. And boy doesn’t he know it!

Been talking to lots of friends old and new and they’re enjoying this silly little blog (thank you for reading by the way) and I started thinking about all the things you are just never told when you’re pregnant.

A baby’s eye gouging tendencies is one of them, but I’ve thought of lots more…

1.  When your baby smiles for the first time, you will cry
2. You will jump red lights, cut up ferraris and ignore police cars if your baby is crying in the back of the car for a feed or attention
3. When your baby sleeps the whole night you won’t
4. After a while when your crawling baby eats day old broccoli he’s found under the sofa you won’t really care so much…
5. Babyhood goes so quickly (actually everyone tells you this, but it’s the truest truth anyone does tell you!)
6. Being pregnant is easy
7. You will talk about periods, stitches, poo, boobs and your sex life with people you’ve only known for 30 seconds and it’s not weird
8. Returning texts, emails, straightening hair, fake tanning, eye lash tinting, toenail painting even leg shaving is ditched in favour of five minutes peace
9. You will use food to bribe your child
10. You cannot put in to words how much you love your baby, however sleep deprived, however much they wreck your house, it’s love like nothing else

And it’s so true what people are quick to tell you, it’s the hardest but most rewarding job ever. I’ll raise a glass (or 4) to that!


The Grinch

Baby2011 is scrabbling around the floor at a rate of knots now. He’s eaten a handful of cat food, chewed the tinsel on the bottom of the Christmas tree and is completely traumatising our poor cat. It’s impossible to beat him once he sets his sites on something.  It’s like racing Usain Bolt to KFC.

Me and dad2011 baby proofed the house. Then promptly realised that nothing is baby proof. Or should that be baby2011 proof!? 

For his first Christmas baby2011 was thoroughly spoiled. The martian playhouse, ride on train and fire engine being particular favourites. Our house is filled with plastic, and we’re having to put the boxes and wrapping paper out for the bin men in stages so the council don’t do us for industrial scale waste. We were overwhelmed and grateful for all his presents, he’s a very lucky boy.

I’ve just put all 3 martians and their dog to bed in the sleep pod, built a rainbow tower with some mega bloks and i’ve matched up letters and word bricks to the rewards of positive beeps and songs. Baby2011 went to bed 50 minutes ago… 

Me and dad2011 having anticipated this spoiling, (oh sh*t, I mean father Christmas!!!) gave him some classic books and a cuddly toy. But when he’s older we’ll tell him all the presents in the millions of photos we took were all from us and Santa. 

We got some cracking pics. Naturally he was dressed up as father Christmas, fed his first taste of chocolate (although I’m sure dad2011 has given him some before!) and truly did get more pleasure from the paper and boxes than the hi tech, well designed toys they concealed.

I’m just about recovering. It was knackering, overwhelming, more sober than usual (although family may disagree on that one!), but it really was magic. 

I used to hate Christmas, i mean i was a real Grinch. I never drank mulled wine, never wanted any presents, I changed the radio station as soon as i heard that familiar intro “its christmaaaaaaas!” and don’t even get me started on bloody Christmas cards! But now I know for years to come I’ll get caught up in creating the magic for baby2011. His happiness will be my Christmas gift.  

Wowzer, I’ll be cheerily celebrating new years eve next (well, maybe one day!).