An honest account of being a first time mum

Posts tagged ‘motherhood’

Is it bad

Baby2011 is not sleeping again. Awake every hour which is excellent *yawn*. But we’ll gloss over that because I have concluded this cannot be fixed.

So, baby2011 and i are currently snuggled up on the sofa after sharing our toast and tea for breakfast. We are watching In The Night Garden in our pyjamas. Whilst he chuckles and points at the teeny tiny pontipines finding the teeny tiny wottingers in a game of hide and seek I’m writing.

Is it bad that we’re still in our pyjamas? Is it wrong we have seen this episode about 40 times? Is it bad that there is sweetcorn on my front room rug from yesterday’s tea time and the washing isn’t hung out?

So maybe I’m a lazy wotsit but I’m cherishing every second of these cuddles. It’s not often we just chill together. We’re usually rushing around, in and out of the car, eating rice crackers in supermarket trollies-that sort of thing.

Finally I have learnt to take the advice I was given time and time again when I was pregnant. Sit down, leave the housework and enjoy your baby. It feels ever so indulgent, but I can’t stop smiling. Me and my boy, best friends forever!

Might get dressed later, might not. Might sweep the sweetcorn up, might not!




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)


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!