So I became a mum of 2 this month. Cue a round of applause (to myself) and a million questions running through my head about how the flipping hell im going to manage!
I have a birth story to potentially write but long story short - I went in all guns blazing: 3 days worth of snacks, outfits, nappies (for me - due to ruining countless amounts of hospital bedsheets last time) and all sorts ready for my mega stay in hospital... I gave birth in the evening at half six, had no sleep all night thanks to a boob leech and then they kicked me out by midday. Happy days. I also went prepared with anti colic bottles, soothing sounds, all sorts of baby shit ready to begin my battle of newborn mummyhood - but she’s a good baby. Apart from her first night where she attached herself to my boob for a solid ten hours and stayed awake, she’s a sleeper! She’s a looker-arounder too, which means I can actually eat, brush my teeth and pee and poo during the day too, because - wait for it - I can PUT HER DOWN! In short, either she’s a really good baby, or Amelie was a really broken difficult one; I’m still trying to figure out which is the case. But seriously, how my luck’s changed.
My experience of newborns has been totally transformed and I’m definitely not adverse to continued reproduction at this stage. No rush though. I have no real advice to give. I’m a few weeks into it all but I do know it has left me with a total of zero dull moments.
I’ve made a whole lot more effort with the house and my own appearance this time, but upon waking, I still manage to look like a zombie that has embarked on an apocalyptic mission all night. She’s a good sleeper and doesn’t have more than 2 wakes but I guess I’m just not a night person! By any means. The first few days, I took the opportunity to relax - something which I did not do last time. I just asked for the help I needed and took the time for me. I didn’t feel this time around that my baby would die if I left her in the care of someone else for 15 mins. Or even an hour! Last-time-round-Viv would’ve had a panic attack if the baby wasn’t in sight for longer than a couple of minutes. The first time I cooked a meal, was breakfast; and it wasn’t a meal at all. It was a bacon sandwich. I [thought I had] bossed it. Happily humming along to myself, washing and sterilising bottles as the bacon sizzles scrumptiously in the pan. Grabbing myself a bit of butter and perusing the cupboards for brown or red sauce - until I turn around and spot a plume if smoke that has overtaken the entire kitchen. What the F. This is not good. We’re moments away from the smoke alarm and in a desperate attempt to avoid that, I hastily open all the windows and doors but it’s too late, the fucker is howling through the entire house, warning us not at all of potential fire, but more rubbing it in my face that I can’t cook a sodding bacon sandwich. Meanwhile, the toddler is basking butt naked in the garden, eating a pot of Pringles. Oh life. Side note: joe ate the bacon sandwich still. And the bun was stale. Fail level 1 trillion zillion.
We also did a food shop. No dramas. Actually fairly straightforward and nothing out of the ordinary with Amelie breaking our self scanning device, resulting in us having to re scan everything - so a totally pointless endeavour to speed up our shopping experience. She also spent the entire time begging for the toy that we bribe her with on every food shop, despite reiterating endless times that she must wait until the end of the food shop. She asked in every aisle. So anyway, a good food shop. Then in the 30 degree heatwave, our trolley which was loaded with food and more importantly ICE CREAM, suffered. All because the baby woke. For milk. I’m a bottle fan so no boob drama for me but my god, making up a formula with a tiny bit of boiling water from a ridiculously sized shitty flask [note to self: please remember to buy a small flask!!] and then topping it up with cooled, boiled water but only after swishing the formula and boiling water around enough to kill the potential bacteria in the formula ... you get it. From then on, I took a bottle that I made in the comfort of my own home with my perfect prep machine and hoped for the best for a couple of hours! Goodbye ice creams, RIP. Then she pooed herself. And in my frantic antics of baby changing bag and joes efforts to secure the blaring toddler in a car seat, I realised I placed said newborn next to the exhaust of the running car. Oops. I suppose it could’ve been worse, she could’ve been put in front of it. In fairness she was next to the wheel, but still felt like a failure for putting her in such an unthoughtful place. You live and learn I suppose! So yeah, I mild win ‘in general’
Our little family of three has transformed into a family of four and I’m in love with mummyhood. I’m still winging at least 99 percent of all aspects of life but I’m quite happy doing it. Sleep deprived, yes - but not how one would expect. It’s the toddler. The baby sleeps like a dream and Amelie, is awake for I’ve-lost-track-of-how-many-reasons!
I don’t even care anymore, as long as I have between two and four hours of sleep, and one HELL of a lot of coffee. I’m surviving. Joe usually works from home so is often on hand for extra chaotic stresses but to be honest, it’s been manageable. Quite hard and extremely stressful, but we’re doing ok.
I’m embracing the newborn cuddles, although I’ve swapped crappy daytime telly and newborn naps for pee breaks and Amelie time, coupled with bouts of ‘cleaning opportunities’ - or more realistically it dawns on me when the baby is asleep just how much mess has been generated in like a couple of hours, so I rush around half-heartedly tidying up and running the mop over the floor. Or occasionally [very frequently] I just fill a sink with Zoflora and the house smells good, so I feel good. My priorities lie with my biggest baby and making sure she doesn’t miss out, so the cleaning can get stuffed for the next few months. Having said that, I do most definitely catch up in the evening, and it looks pristine for all of 8 hours. Or until joe gets a snack! The hardest part is finding time to give them both quality time and anyone that says it isn’t, is a liar!
I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said no to Amelie (purely because I can’t build block towers whilst feeding or burping her few week old sister) or how many times I’ve chased her around (when out) because she’s run off and totally forgotten I have a buggy and newborn to contend with. And quite frankly it breaks my heart: my blogs last time around had the tone of a stressed out, shocked AF first time mum, trying to see the funny side. This time around it’s a little different in that ive become an overtired, run-down mum on a desperate quest to give all of me to each of my children. Only that would mean 200% .. which is a mathematical means of talking hypothetical situations, and unfortunately the reality in my mum life is that, there is only 100% of me to give. In fact, in my mind it should be 50:50 as such. And I struggle. But in this short space of time I’ve learnt that actually it’s possible to give most of your attention to one child, then give most of your attention to the other one. Some days, one child may get more attention than the other but hopefully at the end of the week ‘on the whole’ it balances out and my mum guilt is not so bad.
What’s changed ? Newborn wise, not a great deal. I’ve had all sorts of bodily fluids all over me and have suffered lack of sleep. But the biggest change has been in Amelie. She is a drama queen, an attention seeker and has a new found love for expressing her contrasting view. What else has changed? She’s grown. She’s blossomed, and found her independence. Where she lacked in confidence, she’s cracked it! She has grown more resilient and trusts herself to try (and succeed) and whilst it breaks my heart that I’ve had to let her figure some things out on her own (due to being tied up in stuff) I’m so incredibly proud of her and her growth in self-esteem.
Hardest mum moment: being on my own with two babies for 4 days. Collective sleep was about 9 hours over he 4 days. So it broke me if I’m honest and I had to ask for help. So pleased to have such lovely people offering to spend some time with Amelie, and that’s just what she did. And she had a blast! So for our support network, , I’m beyond thankful.
Most emotional moment: after a rough few days and lots of tellings off, I asked Amelie if she thought mummy was kind or mean. And she said kind and gave me a cuddle and kiss.
Biggest change in dynamics: Amelie is clingy and has started asking to sleep in our bed - which result in a toe up my nose or a punch/kick in the face
Funniest: bacon sandwich 100%.
Favourite moment: watching my babies bonding. Loving Joe twice as much because he’s twice as perfect of a Daddy to our babies and a husband I am lucky to have to call mine.
So whilst I’ve been busy running myself into the ground, I’ve been drinking in all of motherhood and my babies and loving every single moment. Ok, maybe not the tantrums or the ridiculously smelly gases leaving my one months old rear end, or the tummy bothered baby squirms and screams. But mostly loving it, and all the while being all to aware of how flipping fast it all goes. Amelie will be school aged in 1.5 years and I’m just not ok with how quickly that has come around. So I’ve been taking each day as it comes and some days are good, some are not so good and some are plain fucking shit. Like the day I hauled the car seat across a busy car park, over the pebbles - whilst holding Amelie’s hand and wearing a heavy overfilled bag of ‘essential kids shit’ like snacks and drink and nappies and wipes and every other bloody thing you need for even an hours outing. Anyway, I digress. Long story short, I gave it my all on this particular day, and even went in the ice cold sea with Amelie... all to be ‘playing’ surprise ice cream flavours (made of sand balls) in which the game went a little something like this:
Ammie: mummy guess what ice cream I have?
Me: [insert guess of flavour]
*and repeat*
Then one surprise was a blow to the face with and a mouthful of sand. Thanks child.
Worst day.
I ended up lugging my car seat and screaming kid (toddler) who did not want to go home, and it took all my might to not hold it against her. I did the time out. I did the apology. I smashed the kisses and cuddles. But, supernanny would not be proud because I did not let it go after 2 minutes as per her advice one ‘1 minuet time out per year in age’ I held that grudge the whole drive home and until about 10 minutes into Mister Maker’s Arty Party. Then we made up. And I even cherished that day. Because it was filled with her giggles and chuckles... before the sand.
Hopefully as Olivia’s little personality develops and Amelie’s hopefully slows down (I’m not sure how much more ‘personality’ I can take from that girl) I’ll have some funny things to report, but for now... taking each day as it comes and WIPING THE SLATE CLEAN is my motto and although I’m one tired mumma, I am so content and my heart is beyond full.
Watch the space, because I’m sure I’ve just jinxed it.
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| Amelie became frightened of grey clouds and insisted on wearing the rain cover (for the car seat) |
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