An honest account of being a first time mum

Posts tagged ‘parent’

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

One

Baby2011 turned one last week. I thought I might have a bit of a breakdown that my tiny newborn was one whole year old. But I held it together, we had a party and I even said a few words to his fans. I dealt with it brilliantly. This is because I am completely in denial! The number 1s on the front of all his beautiful cards don’t seem to be real. Really one whole year!?

I haven’t blogged for a while and this too is poignant. I obviously have not needed the crutch of my blog to deal with what motherhood has chucked at me over the last couple of months. I said yesterday to my lovely mum that I felt relaxed for the first time since I was heaving enormous bump round surrey and watching homes under the hammer with a bacon double cheeseburger. It’s getting easier. He’s sleeping deeper, can communicate better and his smile is infectious!

I was also talking my wonderful Sis in law about how we feel there is so much to do in our lives but we don’t know where to start. I’m talking as parents, professionals and socially. It’s like the first year of baby2011’s life, my life was his life. But as he grows more independent I get a teeny bit more of my life back.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. Yes I joke about baby2011 being my tiny newborn and snuggling him up like a helpless teeny babe. He of course greets this with a poke in my eye or a kick in the boob. But i genuinely feel a pang of sadness, it physically hurts sometimes when he does something “grown up”. Drinking from his beaker without me helping, eating his food without my help. He can climb the stairs, and he only bloody went and started walking didn’t he!

Of course this is all brilliant and whilst I commend his development and burst at the seams with pride I want to rewind. I never cherished the feeding every 2 hours, the fact that I had to hold him so carefully when I bathed him, how he didn’t have teeth oh, and those tiny inoffensive poos!!!!

The whole year has been a whirlwind. Of worry, of stress, of hopelessness, elation, amazement, wonder, happiness and it’s been amazing. I cannot thank the world enough for bringing baby2011 into my life.

I have just got home after his one year weight and height check with the health visitor. I think back to my first post about attending the weighing clinic. What a difference a year makes. Yes I had to save the newborns from the balls and toys my beautiful baby2011 was literally lobbing across the waiting room. But I was also an old hand. My big mouth practically welcoming everyone to my clinic with their newborns and making friends with anyone who’d talk to me!

Baby2011 is at an amazing age now. I actually think this is my new favourite age for him. He’s learning, copying, dancing, walking, loving, arguing and his personality is shining brighter and brighter. He’s making his mark on the world. Watch out world, he’s an absolute cracker!

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)

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!