Phases

So there was the phase when I couldn’t have a 2 minute shower without shouting down the stairs “is he ok?”. Oh yes and even before that (how could I forget) the phase where I felt like dolly Parton and was walking like John Wayne…girls you know what I’m saying!?

Then there was the phase when breast feeding baby out and about filled me with dread as he was so nosey the whole of Surrey had seen what they weren’t supposed to by the time he was 3 months.

Then there was the “wouldn’t take a bottle” phase, then there was the dummy falling out a million times a minute phase. Oh yes and the pack 20 lunch boxes of weening food and beakers and milk for a quick trip to asda-all which was thrown on floor or refused phase. Particularly challenging and time consuming. I won’t bother next time around.

Then there was the crawling backwards phase, stuck under sofa phase, eating sweetcorn from under the sideboard phase.

Then there was the rotovirus phase, then the hacking cough phase. Then there was standing up phase, the walking phase, the running phase and now the talking phase. I use the word “talking” loosely however he has mastered the work “potato” just this morning and this confirms to me that he’s a genius.

So the wont sleep day or night phase and up at 4.55am phase persists but it’s definitely much more rewarding and fun looking after a toddler. A walking, talking, nutty toddler.

A toddler who waves at people from the window and cracks up as though they’re losers for waving back. A toddler who thinks its very funny to see mummy get wound up when he refuses to call a dog a dog and insists its a cat. A toddler who when I can smell him from 20 paces insists that he has NOT done a poo.

A toddler that wants to push the trolley round the supermarket and then hides amongst the cat litter shelf giving me a heart attack.

Baby2011 will always be my baby, but his sense of humour, his stubbornness and his overall personality makes everyday so fun and yes, I’ve plucked up the courage to call him a toddler. Cheers!

Guilty pleasures

Baby2011 is 18 months old now. My dishwasher is his favourite toy (tray pulls out and is sat in like a go cart). He can out run me when it comes to nappy change time or tooth brushing time and squeeze himself into the smallest space , wedging himself between our bed and the wall.

Baby2011 can also out shout me now, (a real feat if you know me!) This scares a lot of old biddies in Asda but stops him from grabbing hold of the odd toilet brush or pepperami. And I leave the place with a scrap of dignity in place.

baby2011 finds pleasure in every situation (yes at the cost of my nervous system but this is good for him!). So as a parent what pleasures do we have?

Of course the bundle of joy we being into our lives, changing things forever is of course a pleasure (sense a sprinkle of sarcasm here folks!)

But I’m thinking of other stuff. Stuff that is like secret patent stuff. Things you wouldn’t have done in life before children. Guilty pleasures if you like.

And surprisingly with a child that evades sleep like Victoria Beckham evades carbs I have quite a few guilty pleasures. Or things and time I feel I’m owed…

Here goes with the list of mummy guilty pleasures:

1. Eating left over fish fingers/cheesy pasta/mash/sausages/fromage frais from child’s plate
2. Letting child fall asleep on sofa cuddling you. Then kicking back to watch this morning, made in Chelsea, nigelissima!
3. Picking up jokes from Justin’s house
4. Hating Sarah Jane on Tikkabilla
5. Secretly fancying mr bloom on Cbeebies
6. Tuning in to watch the lingo show because you want to
7. Looking out the window, seeing rain and deciding that this means having to stay in doors, eat bread and butter and absolutely not get dressed
8. Macdonalds happy meals
9. Child screaming when charity rep knocks on door at 7pm
10. Child grabbing chocolate bar/pair of socks/nice top/ deepest sympathy card from the shops and not realising until you get back to the car…
11. Jumping on the bed and wrestling for 20 minutes each morning
12. Making a cup of tea whilst child is bellowing on naughty step

New tricks

This week has been another week of firsts. Baby2011 stood on his own for approximately 15 seconds. Ok, so when he realised I wasn’t holding him up he plonked down onto his soggy nappy (lucky cushioning!) But for those 15 seconds he wasn’t a baby anymore, he was reaching the realms of toddlerdom.

Also a first was writing “drop off poo” on my to do list. Ok, I got used to carrying around pots of wee when I was pregnant never did I think of upgrade to carrying around poo. Not my poo I hasten to add, baby2011’s poo. After having something called a rotovirus (apparently very common in babies his age, and subsequently found out 4 of his friends had had it!) he was still being sick on and off over the space of a couple of weeks. Anyway I took him to the docs. It took me so long to take him in as I’m sure most docs think you’re a neurotic mother or lying. But I certainly won’t care about that anymore as he was diagnosed as temporarily lactose intolerant. He now drinks soya milk.

For the first time since I stopped breastfeeding at 8/9 months he goes bezerk for a bottle of milk. He was off his food for a couple of weeks but now he eats like he’s never seen food before. I actually think he put on weight in 2 days. He woke up looking rounder.

Another first this week was our first 1st birthday playdate. *sob* I can’t deal with our babies being 1! How quickly has that gone!? Rewind please! The playdate was lovely because I’m incredibly fortunate that I’ve made so many truly fabulous mummy friends. The babies played, swapped dummies, snot, toys and pulled each others hair but they were so happy.

And now tomorrow, my niece’s 1st birthday. *big gulp* I cannot believe it has been a year since me and my sis in law were heavily pregnant scoffing (yes this is true!) club sandwiches PLUS chips in the gym of all places and my sis in law remarked on how uncomfortable she was and how baby was so active. Well early that next morning I received a text that waters had broken. What seemed like an eternity passed, but then we got the text. Baby was here, it was a girl, she was perfect and she had the most beautiful name ever.

I had never seen a new born baby before. But as I waddled, massively pregnant, up the stairs to the maternity ward I heard babies crying. “Was that her”, I thought, tears in my eyes. I asked for my sis in law at reception and waddled through to the ward, heard my sis in law’s voice as she said it was cool to open the curtain and come in.

There they were, my sis in law looked radiant! Absolutely radiating beauty, happiness and contentment. I pointed and sobbed like a complete idiot. There she was, she was teeny, perfect and her little mouth pursed shut and her tiny eyes closed tight. Dark, beautiful hair. Perfection.

I could not believe I was trusted to hold her, but I did. Wrapped in blankets she was passed in to my arms and I daren’t breath she was so so special to hold.

My brother in law appeared, eyes straight to his brand new daughter and my sis in law started to crack me up with hilarious and alarming tales of birth, breastfeeding and sleep deprivation.

A day i will never forget. And i cherish that memory of meeting her for the first time.

We spent the first few months hiding the new babies under muslins breastfeeding out and about. Usually wearing our sunglasses to hide the bags!!!

And now the cousins play. They chatter, they jostle for position and they hug. Hard to think of them as bumps that we used to rub and complain about!

Happy birthday to my beautiful niece. And congrats to my bro and sis in law.

Now can you please stop growing up you monkeys!!!!

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)

Hats with ears

So baby 2011 can sit up. He looks like a giant baby. He can roll too. Of course I think he’s terribly clever and he’s already down for Emmanuel college Cambridge. But naturally I play down his developments to other mums so as not to worry them or gloat and so they like me, but of course I’m incredibly proud.

It’s been just under 7 months since baby2011 arrived into world. It should have been 10 days earlier than this, but being a boy he was rather happy with his feet up in my tummy. And he’s changed so much. The weeks and months have flown by.

Everyday he does something new; reaching for toys, smiling, laughing, making new noises, rolling, eating and recently even the ability to be cheeky.

The most heartbreaking thing for me though has been washing and putting away his first baby clothes. Tiny neutral coloured sleep suits and hats, always with a matching hat with ears.  Neutral as we didn’t know if we were having a blue or pink.  Seems like a lifetime ago me and dad2011 were bickering over names and nursery paint colours not knowing our little fellow.

Originally these first clothes hung long over his tiny hands and his feet didn’t nearly fill the foot parts.  Now they look like dolls clothes. And looking at them just reminds me how much he’s grown. He’s over doubled in weight since he was born. Babies are amazing.

His toys also are being outgrown fast. The Bumbo chair to help him sit up he escapes from and the bouncy chair is boring now he can sit up. I guess we’ll be in the market for walkers and trikes very soon. Madness, he’s been here for less than 7 months.

I need to stop holding on to the idea that my boy is a tiny new born and begin embracing his growing up (sniff sniff). There’s so much exciting stuff ahead. He amazes me everyday. And the thought of not being able to hold him as a teeny, helpless bundle ever again…well that can be addressed.  He’d be an amazing big brother.