An honest account of being a first time mum

Archive for February, 2012

Courage

Courage

Physically having a baby takes courage.

Being a mum takes courage.

Everyday you find the courage to try new things, to take charge. Sometimes just to get up and put your mascara on in the early days! Yes you get knocked back a lot by the the little confidence crushers that are our beautiful babies. But you find the courage over and over to get on with being a mum and the best one you can be at that.

Baby2011 has a lot of courage. The courage to put his hands down the toilet, the courage to climb anything in his way to reach something dangerous, and the courage to look me right in the eyes whilst he’s sat in his high chair having his lunch, smile his winning smile and lob the carefully, lovingly sliced and baked sweet potato wedges against the white front room wall.

I’ve found the courage this week to do a few new things. Ok, so basically I copied things and stole ideas from my mummy friends who are all so much more savvy, in control and cleverer than me and made me think I should buck my ideas up!

I’ve found the courage to give baby2011 fruit shoots as he won’t drink water on days that have a y in their name. He’s still functioning normally, despite all the worries of e numbers, sugar etc and at least he’s now drinking some form of liquid. Thank goodness for that *rolls eyes*.

I also found the courage to stop paying £6 every 4 weeks to get baby2011’s hair cut in a kidz (yes kidz) hair salon and have cut it myself. Contrary to dad2011’s opinion that he now looks like Ian Beale or Rodney Trotter it actually looks pretty good.

I found the courage to take baby2011 to a cranial osteopath. (A whole new blog!) and the courage to put my size 12 skinny jeans on and look in a mirror!

I needed a lot of courage to give baby2011 baked beans for tea the other evening. The wind did cause mass hysteria but the nappy wasn’t too bad in the morning. My baby recipe repertoire is expanding. Gourmet don’t you know!

This week me and dad2011 have needed lots of courage. Firstly because baby2011, who let’s face it has never been a fan of sleep, has been up all night and not even napped in the day. And secondly for the nappies and sick we dealt with on an hourly basis!

A sickness bug, a bout of teething and now all three of us having colds and hardly enough energy to find the sky plussed episodes of InThe Night Garden and Baby Jake has taken its toll on us all.

Romantic ideas of lunches in the spring sun and a few drinks once baby2011 went to bed were out the window quicker than an Essex girl can say “shud dup”!

The romantic family notions of skipping through meadowsswapped for Horlicks and bed before “no likey, no lighty” on a sat night and turning up at the in laws in time for a delicious roast on Sunday.

Still at the risk of sounding cheesy it was lovely to all be together. Even if me and dad2011 did lose it at 5am last weds morning mildly disagreeing on whether to administer calpol or not. I said no, he said yes, it was very political! This at the time of course ended in divorce discussions but by 7am we’d realised we liked each other too much and made up.

So courage mustered for birth, check!
Courage gained to be a good mum to my boy, check!
Courage to start back at work… Erm, oh hello Jack Daniels. It’s been a while old friend but you’re needed!

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Spasm

Spasm

Baby2011 is wrapped up to ridiculous levels to leave house in the
“cold snap” that has gripped Surrey, and has gone to the chemist with dad2011. I am lying on the bedroom floor (been here nearly 4 hours now) as my back has gone into sciatic spasm.

It’s not labour pain, but it still hurts and I cannot move a muscle or I screech and cry.

Painkillers of epic proportion are on their way! Thank god as I can’t even pick up the remote to turn off this god awful programme I’m watching upside down about grey people from Wales  buying antiques (term used loosely!) and selling them for a few quid more than they bough and then wetting themselves with excitement. Sorry in foul mood!

My back seized up this morning. I was holding baby2011 and bent down to feed cat and couldn’t straighten back up again. Luckily dad2011 is home and was able to grab baby2011 before he ingested the ” felix as good as it looks”. I then managed to crawl and collapse in a heap.

After a long while of trying to persuade a lady on the end of the phone that i wasn’t fibbing or being a hypochondriac she reluctantly agreed to put me on the list for a home visit from a doctor. But “they are very busy ” she said “so who knows when he’ll get there”. So here i am, frustrated by the pain and disgusted at the state of the carpet and cob web I can see below the radiator  waiting for emergency doctor.

Dad2011 had been in the loft at the time getting our Moses basket down to lend to friends expecting a baby girl next month (very exciting!). Whist drama unfolded downstairs our cat decided to ascend loft ladder and go crazy in the vast and only partially boarded loft. He was retrieved and thrown onto landing whilst baby2011 threw everything he could reach from his cot onto floor and I lay sobbing on the bedroom carpet. A really great morning, or as my sister would put it…an epic fail.

So here we are. What to do now. And how on earth can I look after baby2011 with a useless back.

When I was pregnant I remember being convinced I’d be bored caring for a baby. Bored not having any brain stimulation and thought i’d have lots of time to study for a professional qualification or do some artwork for the house or read Wuthering Heights. How naive I was! I barely have time to dust the front room or phone a friend.

And although I know I don’t sit down often because I’m so busy, I cannot for the life of me tell you what I’m doing that takes up so much time. And also what means once baby2011 has gone to bed means my house looks like the Tasmanian Devil has been raving with 50 mates in my kitchen.

But then I remembered. Everything with a baby takes not twice as long but 5 times as long as it should.

For example, baby2011 like cheerios for breakfast. I am not allowed to help or rush him when he’s eating his cheerios so I wait whilst he feeds himself one cheerio at a time. Breakfast therefore can take an hour.

A bottle of milk, simple to make and give to baby. Takes a few minutes I hear you cry! Well, once bottle washed, sterilised, kettle boiled, feed measured and bottle cooled. We have to put In the night garden on for a point of focus. Baby2011 will then want to play with the remote control and after hiding that (and you have to be convincing it’s gone now he’s bigger and cleverer!) he might drink an oz or 2 of milk before cat appears and he bats bottle away to wriggle down and chase him. It could therefore take up to an hour to give him his milk!

Even a nap. You think baby tired baby will go to sleep. Well not in our house. Baby tired, baby pulls grumpy face, baby throws dummy on floor (under sofa is the equivalent of being lost forever!), find clean dummy, get headbutted, place baby in cot. Baby2011 will crawl up and down cot, bump head and cry and then after about 30 minutes will go to sleep for a bit.

Heading out the door to see friends, baby2011 will do a big poo. Change nappy, he throws hat on floor, throws rusk (bribe to be happy whilst I load car) all over back seat, wiping hands on my only clean jumper that I’m wearing. Baby2011 falls asleep in car so I drive around a further 30 minutes to keep him asleep!

Emergency doctor arrived. Asked me why I was sitting on floor. If I could have got up I would have punched him in the face. Prescribed painkillers, instructed dad2011 to go and get them, told him wrong chemist was open and once again we have a fabulous experience with a GP.

Dad2011 returned. Painkillers spaced me out. But it was the glass of red wine helped me to walk about a bit.

Wish I could explain to baby2011 why I’m not chasing him around and scooping him up for a cuddle. He looks confused. Dad2011 of course is being amazing but I feel so guilty not being able to do anything.

Hopefully I’ll be on the mend soon and able to cuddle my baby boy.

Times like this, sitting back and seeing what’s going on without you make me realise how lucky I am. A wonderful mum, mother in law and friends all offering help and sympathy.

How hard must it be for mothers who don’t have that support, who are on their own or who are truly  poorly? A wish and a prayer for them all. I’ll stop moaning now.

God I hope I’m well enough to hoover soon, the carpet really is a disgrace :0)