Two months with Two✌🏼

I’m sat in playgroup thinking a number of things. Firstly how quickly time is zooming by and how being a four-part gang is no longer ‘new’ and is beginning to feel normal. Our actual life and daily routine is far from normal, but the ‘fun’ of juggling two kids is becoming a regular part of life. The next thing on my mind is, what the fudge is life? Sitting in a stinky church hall, watching kids swarm the floors like crawling ants; shouting, moaning, testing their parents’ patience in any way they possible can and generally being annoying. So I surround myself with toddler knobheads for the sake of an hour and a half of peace - and to eradicate my mum guilt which is inevitable. I feel guilty on Amelie for holding the baby through a nap, and definitely guilty on the baby for putting her down and undoubtedly causing her nap to be over within no longer than ten minutes. (She’s a leech and likes to be held) the last thing I think of is all the shit I haven’t done and probably will never get around to doing, so I start mentally creating a list of priorities. These include dressing my child(ren), changing their nappies and feeding them. Followed by entertaining them, then come the actually jobs around the house. These are what I struggle with. Do I do laundry and put it away? Or chuck it all in the washer and dryer then decorate the conservatory floor with items of my family’s clothing, which would give me time to unload the dishwasher that hasn’t been unloaded in 2 days. Or maybe 3. I’ve lost track. Bottles are a priority and those 7 million part bad boys are a beast to clean and require utmost care to both take apart and reassemble! As well as clean and sterilise.

Usually I sack it all off and opt to play with Amelie. No one ever sits on their death bed wishing they’d cleaned more! Playing is our bond and time goes by oh so fast, I never want to look back and wish I’d played more. That I say is the number one hardest thing of newly mumming for two. Having to ration play times and frequently say ‘no’ or ‘later’ to Amelie for all the time she asks for something whilst I’m tied up with Olivia! It’s easy to say they can get involved by getting wipes and nappies, but when your toddler is trying to take the play doh lid off while you’re feeding your baby, or they’re thirsty and their drink has run out, or perhaps they’ve hurt themselves and just want a long ass cuddle until they feel better and you have to choose between feeding your baby or pleasing your toddler, it’s inevitable the toddler will be put on hold so to speak. It absolutely breaks my heart. The little bit of reassurance I got that Amelie doesn’t resent the new arrival was when we offered to take her on a her-only day to paw patrol live and she was seriously distressed when we told her that her sister would be staying home with Nana and Papa. She absolutely did not accept that and couldn’t imagine living this exciting experience without her baby sis by her side and repeatedly across several days expressed her absolute concern and determined opinion that she is most definitely going WITH her sister. So she embraces her. And that thought makes my heart whole, after every time it breaks when I have to tell her no to playing. 

So what’s been my saving grace ? Play groups, baby wraps and friends. Friends that hold your baby enjoy doing so, as much as you enjoy the break. Going places is tricky at first until you get into a routine and habit, so having friends on hand to just hold the baby, or help you tidy up your bag, or even keep a watchful eye on your toddler while you make up a feed, or change a nappy etc is unbelievable help and some nights I have sat in the shower overwhelmed with everything but crying out of happiness and being grateful for the amazing mummy friends I have who have made taking both children out so much easier. Baby groups are like the only way poor Olivia gets her nap in the morning. Amelie is too o is at home but when there are 30+ kids making a racket it just becomes a background noise that she happily sleeps through. I will forever be grateful to the group leaders who give up their time to put them on and I flipping hope they know that they are the difference between going insane (literally borderline depression) and feeling like you CAN handle it. Over the summer I struggled so so much and could not wait for the groups to return in September. Finally, the wrap. Oh my good god - put your clingy baby in one of those ‘Earth Mama’ baby wrap slings and you are literally flying. Hands free to tidy up, to change your toddlers nappy and all sorts - all the while your baby is putty in your hands and happy as anything! 

And.... preschool! Coming in at a whopping (minute) £13 it’s a no brainer. Who wouldn’t ? Poor Amelie has been shipped off to preschool three days a week but she absolutely loves it! Didn’t even have a trial as she just got stuck in. I fear it’s because she was aware it was scream free time, she jumped for joy and just loved preschool from the word go. If only I could have three hours break off baby duty a day! 

Not a great deal of funny just yet - unless looking like shit and feeling like a genuine zombie is funny to anyone. We’re back to those good old days. That and I genuinely have stark opposite children. Amelie was like a poo monster and this baby is so constipated I have been literally having to grab onto her poo and pull it out (thankfully with a wet wipe) just to help her empty her bowels. Lord help me, I’ve legit lost all dignity. 

Jabs were heartbreaking but overshadowed by Amelie. She thought she was having them and decided as we opened the door to go in, that she would dash across the entire doctors surgery and hide under a chair... so I dragged my stupid backpack, milk bottle hanging from my mouth to free up a hand with which to (literally) drag my child out from under the furniture and into the office. Poor Olivia was stressed out before we even went in let alone when the needles came out. The kid was already screaming (it was way past nap time and we’d been waiting 30 mins past our appointment) so the poor thing just was a crying mess for the best part of 20 minutes. Then she got a little sleepy and bossed the jabs like a pro.

With joe traveling for work frequently again it has been hard to say the least. But for the first time I feel like I am bonding not only with each of my children 1:1, but as a trio and them beginning to bond and interact makes any hardship around parenting beyond worth it! 

Mumming for Two

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. 

Amelie became frightened of grey clouds and insisted on wearing the rain cover (for the car seat) 

Making Time Count; Not Counting Time

Goodbye days of relentless poos, mid-night milk feeds and teething; and hello to the tantrums, turmoils and treasures of the terrible twos. My child is TWO. I question where the time went, but the truth is I’m too consumed in the hustle and bustle of everyday to even realise. Most nights I’m eagerly awaiting 5pm at which stage the dinner has been eaten and the bath time bribery begins. By the way, she loves bath time. She loves anywhere we take her, but it’s the stopping of any activity and transferring to another which apparently sets off a giant ‘fuck you mummy’ (or Daddy to be fair) reaction in her and is followed by the delightful [and exceptionally over familiar word of] NO.  not even like a “hmm, no” its more of a volcanic eruption of No’s accessorised with an ash cloud of angry exertions - that include spitting, scowling and even growling at times. Then come the tears. I’ve become somewhat immune to the tears, which is funny as I distinctly remember a friend asking me in the first few months of motherhood whether I just shut off to the crying because it’s so incessant. I remember being mortified. How on earth could I shut off? But I gave it a thought and still felt that that was something that just simply was ‘unmotherly’ so my new-mum self proudly replied with a resounding no. (But a friendly one, unlike my toddler) well, 2 years on I can certainly tell you that my answer is most definitely a positive YES.

Despite all this, the motto stays the same. Even though it’s the hardest fudging thing (I’ve had to stop curb my swearing habits) you’ve ever experienced in your life. It’s the best. We have so much fun. Amelie was not blessed physically, but beyond ahead verbally. She’s always been the last to master any physical skill and on the verge of monitoring by a health visitor for walking - but she’s running around like any other kid now. Except for it’s always accompanied by verbal diarrhoea. No amount of ‘verbal Imodium’ could curb that but I LOVE it. She’s a proper little human and makes every day fun. It’s for this reason that (although I do ‘count the time’ until its bath and bed time) until about 3pm, I’m loving life ‘making the time count’; it’s a fair balance in my eyes.

It’s hard keeping up with blogging, and one of the hardest parts of ‘me’ that I’ve had to sacrifice, but I’m determined to have a bit more of a go because I set out to show how hard and misrepresented motherhood was, and I feel I’ve achieved that...  but I’m in the stage of how funny and rewarding and seriously good fun it can be. We’ve dabbled in potty training here and there, and whilst Amelie asks for the potty on occasion, she also quite happily releases the Niagara Falls equivalent of pee in her knickers and happily carries on like it. So you can imagine my delight when she finally asked to use the toilet whilst we were out! It went a little something like this:

Me:Amelie mummy needs a wee wee, can you come this way please.
Ammie: No (that famous word)
 *5 minutes later when my bladder is literally tingling like an overfilled damn she finally complies*

So hurry her little pitter pattering steps along, usher her into what I swear was the tiniest cubicle, whilst trying to wedge my 33 week baby bump and massive snack-filled rucksack in as quickly as possible;on the verge of pissing myself she decides she needs to wee. But before me. And screams it’s coming out and all sorts. (She has a nappy on) she’s having none of the nappy business despite having worn a fucking nappy the entire day and preceding days... so once again I’ve got to wait. She did do a wee in fairness but ffs, the timing was just not the one. I finally managed a wee by which point the entire party present in the loo has heard our conversational meltdown and I’m sure I’ll be met with an applause that I finally got my chance to pee. But worse, the shows not over for Amelie, clearly. “Mummy, I can wipe your butt for you?” Firstly, thanks for misleading the toilet public and insinuating I’ve now taken a dump, and second, and most worryingly that I expect you to wipe it for me!! I guess in her world. I wipe hers and she was trying to be helpful, but my god. Toddlers. Funny old things. I cannot even imagine when baby number two arrives to add to our girl gang how on earth I’d manage all that, but at least she’ll have an appropriate companion’s bum to offer to wipe I guess!

My biggest worry is that I’ll only be half the mum to each of my children and neither can ever get 100 percent of me. But that Amelie will be let down and shocked at how much less mummy time is devoted to her. Everybody tells me they had the same fear and it just works out and neither child is left without, but I guess it’s one of those things you have to find out for yourself when the time comes. This is why despite wanting to be in bed all day or indulging in slightly lazy activities as is my heavily pregnant prerogative, I’ve been running around softplay, or walking for miles around farms and zoos and grappling with the stones of the beach with toddler and beach tools in tow - I’ve been busy making time count. Because Mummy and Ammie time is so precious and the expiration date is drawing closer every day. That’s not to say we’re not excited, we as a family all cannot wait to meet the little rosebud. But I also can’t wait each day for an adventure with the one we already have, and trying to remember that once upon a time, neither of us ever thought she could exist!

Thinking of starting a family? A few ways a new baby will rock your life.

So it's crossed your mind that you are ready for a little bundle of joy and for a new 'motherly' identity. Before you get comfortable and divulge in endless daydreams about gurgles, giggles and cute little button noses, take a minute to read this.

Prepare for Shit. A lot of shit. The kind out of their bums, shit sleep, shit diet, shit social life, shit arguments with your significant other, shit food because you have no time or desire to cook. You name it, shit probably features frequently and never lingers too far from a baby! There are obviously fun(ny) times, but shit is never too far off the scene. It's a real shit storm to start. I think to some extent the shit lessens, but I also think we just learn to live with it and funny enough start to (stupidly) love it!

Once you've got yourself used to the idea that you can sleep no more, you might as well get cosy. Now I'm not talking metaphorically. I literally mean. Get cosy, comfy, oversized clothes so you can at least feel good about feeling tired. Ish. It's time to throw away the dresses, heels; and any shoes for that matter - who needs shoes in the house? This is where I fear my sense of giving any thought to my appearance began to dwindle. The best thing I can compare it to is a hangover. When you're literally SO tired, and you couldn't care less about the clothes you're wearing or the state of your face! Talking of face, this is an apt moment to introduce my absolute favourite, most over-used technique when it comes to my appearance - namely my hair - my 'go-to' look, if you like: The Mum Bun. So avid is the existence of said motherly hairstyle in my life, that I've once gone out for dinner with it. Not on an actual date with my hair, I just mean I got so exhausted after applying a full face of make up that I decided 'sod' it when it came to the rest of my head. Convenience is key, and boy have I learnt that this year or so! 

I 'conveniently' (frequently) hold in my wee until it's ok to make noise because it's just not worth waking the sleeping baby! But that's not what I really meant. I'm thinking more along the lines of 'do I grab a bit of ham and cheese from the fridge and later a piece of toast rather than take time making a sandwich?' Yes! Do I quite often take part in a play date rather than getting ready and going out? Yep! And do I shave when I need to, rather than when I fancy smooth legs? Most definitely! I regularly opt for movie night than date night and would way sooner day drink (without the baby this time) than deal with a hangover and even more sleepiness! I pack a bazillion toys for distraction in the unattractive pink rucksack - not resembling at all a handbag my pre-parent self may have had and quite shamelessly hand over a biscuit or three to keep the peace! Convenience at its best!

So that's you covered, what about everyone else? You lose friends, it's a fact - see previous post on this if you like! But you gain the best ones too. Mum ones. They get it. Some of your non-mum friends do too, but prepare to see a few disappear into the shadows, or replace you with new and exciting friends. This is hard, but understandable. There's only so much poo, wee, vomit and baby related stress people can take. My best advice? Just let your friends know you'll be there for them! And (I'm still hoping) when they have kids, they'll be interested in hanging out again! Patience! With some people it's the opposite. They literally are so baby obsessed they don't leave you - or your kid alone. Literally. And you're stuck looking for excuses as to why you can't meet. Don't do that. Don't be like me. If someone wants your kid, take them up on the offer! Say hallelujah, grab a glass of wine, or anything and f*ck off! Enjoy you time! If I could do it second time round, I'd still struggle, but I think I could hand over Amelie a lot quicker than I have done. My anxiety got the better of me for a long while, constantly worrying about her welfare and how other people just wouldn't 'get' her. She's a baby Viv!! And turns out there's not much to get, she rules the roost and everybody else follows! The hardest of all and the 'other' person who suffers the most is 100% your partner. They take the brunt of all your frustration, they are there to see you at your worst, and they are there to palm the blame onto. I absolutely hate this about myself, but it's true. Joe has at times been more like a punching bag than a husband to me and he's taken a lot! I've hated him for getting to go to work for 9 hours a day, for having the right to a shit whenever he wants, drinking warm coffee, and not really paying the price for having a baby with a fatter, less able body. Having a baby really takes its toll on your body and for me, took 7 months before it BEGAN to recover. My stomach will forever bulge, my hips now are covered in stretch marks to match the ones on my saggy (still tiny) boobs and my vagina will forever look like an overstretched jumper and will never be the same as before I pushed a human out of it. Joe? Is just a little tired, but his body hasn't changed! He doesn't put up with the tantrums all day, I do! Then when he says its not that bad and I just need to stay calm, I want to strangle him. If he hasn't helped with the housework he is on my blacklist for at least a day, and if he happens to utter that he's tired I might storm off to bed after a few choice words. Before children, nothing like this ever took place and we hardly ever argued. I can't work out if it's having a child or being sleep deprived - it's probably both. Despite this all, he's still there, working hard to keep us afloat and telling me he loves me (mostly) so I adore the man and frequently apologise and ball my eyes out at how sorry I am for (once again) losing my shit! All part of the game. 

Your social life takes a serious battering! Firstly youre exhausted, even on good days! Chances are those days are good because you've spent a big chunk of energy of entertaining your child. So you're too tired to drink, or text back, or go out or do anything but bath and sleep. Some days you do get out and socially interact.. With your friends. But you take your kid. Most of the time, it's great. Lots of the time your kid either poos itself , pours food/drink all over itself or decides that the toys on offer which up until this point they loved at whatever establishment you choose to go to, they now hate. Subsequently, they wine, whinge and moan - or God forbid cry- until you have just about enough, apologise profusely and round up your sprog to leave early. On the occasion where you might've planned a child-free evening, with a babysitter and everything, your kid will no doubt come down with some shit illness or other and refuse to let go of you, clinging on for dear life until you are over run with guilt and subsequently cancel your social outing and swap the evening plans for wiping or nose suckering noses, fretting over dosage times and sizes while secretly (kind of) hoping that Calpol and nurofen together (allow time between the two though!!) knocks out your kid just a little longer than usual so you could at least sleep! And breathe!

These are hard. But by far the hardest part of parenting is worrying. I mean, for me, I have developed a pretty bad case of anxiety. I've learnt to deal with it at most times, but there are occasions where I feel totally overwhelmed and way out of control. And it's scary. Having been a person who laughed at 'anxiety' and thought people with depression just need to keep busy and cheer up, I've certainly come to rethink those thoughts. I struggle daily with worrying. Initially I worried for Amelie's well-being. When your child is crying and they cannot tell you why, you become a detective on a quest to find the source of upset. Are they too hot, too cold? Do they have an itch? Dead arm? (They sleep loads to start with, it's plausible) hungry? Thirsty? Pooey? Pee-ey? Headache? Sore throat? Ear ache? You get the idea. I even once was convinced Amelie could be blind because she wasn't following the toy I was waving around in front of her. So many guidelines and milestones to meet puts pressure on us mummies and it doesn't get easier. Being totally responsible for another life takes its toll like nothing else. It's not so much the chore of looking after a baby, it's being able to ensure all is well. It's taxing because it's so much pressure. If you miss something and your baby suffers as a result it's entirely your fault! You don't realise your child has a pooey nappy and then falls asleep, they could catch a urine infection from the poo in bacteria. How guilty would you feel? Some of it is irreversible. I've been so tired at night before and slowly dozing off, while I could hear Amelie messing around with the blanket. Because I'm paranoid of cot death, I had to double check she hadn't pulled it over her head. She hadn't. But something as simple as going to sleep when you're clearly falling asleep, could prove the biggest mistake of your life. Irreversible. I can't deal with this feeling and to this day Amelie sleeps in our room for this reason. There are a whole host of other examples, like I didn't actually feed my kid anything but puree food until about 9 and a half months (when others were handing over chunks of banana and toast and the like at 6 months) because I worried she'd choke. The best advice I can give is to go with your instincts! When you feel comfortable, your baby will thrive. Oh and take health visitor advice as a guideline rather than strict rule even though they make it sound like the be all and end all if your kid is using a bottle and not a beaker at a year old. You're the mum, you know best! I'm still learning to take my advice on this! 

Still want a kid? They are adorable, funny and certainly full of character. But thats like 15% of the time. Max 20! Get ready for the biggest shock of your life! 

the independent learner: leaving your child to it?

Am I a bad Mum for encouraging independence ?

We are the generation who lead 'perfect' lives, who do no wrong and behave with the knowledge that we exist in the public eye on social media platforms. And that comes with a serious amount of effort on one's part to conform to societal expectations on so many levels. Parenting? Observed and judged like no other!

It recently occurred to me at play groups. As I sat cosy on a chair, delving into my phone and a cuppa whilst my child played (happily) in the middle space which was filled with toys, I caught glimpse of a watchful eye. Why was this woman staring at me? Uneasy, I carried on reading about how I can best achieve flat abs in 6 weeks (partly because I didn't believe it was possible, and because I so longed for a shift in my post pregnancy acquired flab-band) but I couldn't help looking up every few seconds to check if the stare had shifted. It hadn't. It had multiplied! The parent/grandparent duo sat intently next to their chunky monkey of a child were searching for (me) the mother of this little girl who was gorilla crawling across the large open space of play area. God forbid kids actually explore, and move from the station of toys at which they are initially put, right? Why shouldn't my kid, who has spotted a train track across the hall make her own way over, away from the building block area at which I had left her? 

What I believe: I think it promotes independence. 

How it feels: a milliongazzilion eyes on the mother who is glued to her phone and has left her kid to it.

The walls of any (ok, many) play areas are plastered with 'please ensure your child is supervised throughout the session' posters. Shit! That's why I look like a god-awful mum. But truth be told, I am supervising. In between sentences, I'm always taking a glance over Amelie's way. Hell, if I was so detached from the world and stuck in my phone I wouldn't have noticed the judgemental stares. Why are the mums sat in pairs gossiping not getting funny looks? One kid had pushed over at least 4 babies for zero bloody reason, yet his mother is oblivious because she's still talking about the ingrown hairs on her armpit (true story) and getting advice from her friend about whether waxing alleviates such traumas in comparison to standard shaving. Mine? She's just exploring her little play world (probably only for another 5 minutes before I head over and offer her some company) unless some kid clambers over to make friends with her... In which case I leave her to socialise. Yes, I let her take toys from other kids, and yes I leave her to it if others take from her. But I keep a watchful eye. Why should I be there to limit and butt in on every encounter. If she looks to be upsetting another child or vice versa of course I'll be there in a flash. Same can be said for when she's attempting to climb on a toy she clearly cannot use, but why is it not ok to leave our babies to it otherwise? Am I alone in thinking it's good for them?

I have no real 'point' or conclusion on this - this is just like a little memoir type post and would love to hear publicly or privately if anyone else thinks this way or if I'm getting it all wrong once again! 

#mumhelpneeded 

7 ways to survive solo-parenting while he travels for work

 If you're the other half of a traveling business man or any other person who travels for work, I'll raise my glass of bubbly or anything to you. This shit's hard. It's hard for any couple to spend weeks apart on a regular occasion on a yearly (and forever) basis but throw a baby into the picture and I've met my physical, emotional and sanity-level nemesis. I cry when the dreaded 'conversation' takes place. Every time I'm informed of a trip away I kind of switch off to the words that are coming out of joes mouth and get lost in my own head which is filling by the minute with worry and anxiety - and visions of screaming tantrums, poo and vom explosions; maybe a bit of piss too but that's become pretty commonplace these days. I think of the evening loneliness, the meals I eat alone, the telly I watch solo and the silence and lack of company that fills each evening. My childless self would indulge in copious amounts of booze and plan trips (on school nights) to visit friends and catch up - no, get drunk and love life. Maybe some evening exercise if I'm feeling adventurous. But I obviously can't do that now - nor do I really want to if I'm honest. I just want my husband to sit and have a meal with me and then sit next to me on his phone so I can moan at him for ignoring me. In the moment, that infuriates me (and half of the female population I'm sure) but during these weeks, I'd give anything just to sit next to my unsociable best bud! Heck id even throw him an iPad to join him and his phone!

So how do I survive it? I realised I have a few 'go-to' routine behaviours that keep cropping up whenever I'm having a silent breakdown in my head. Firstly, I think of how long I have left - then I evaluate my options! I'm kidding but being aware of time is important, so top tip number one is to PLAN AHEAD and set up a schedule of the week's activities.

1. Plan your week
It's obvious I try and keep busy and attempt to take my mind off of the fact that I will be single handedly changing every nappy for approximately 168 hours *cries at the thought* dealing with every aspect of care including feeding, bathing, dressing, changing to new outfits at every explosion or mess created on top of looking after myself whilst i
a) have a baby attached to me screaming if she's not
b) have a baby up to no good ie eating something not edible, getting stuck somewhere not 'fit-able' or falling over because at 11 months my kid still hasn't mastered crawling. Although I'm quite glad as I have no idea how I'd manage to go for even a wee if she was crawling let along a decent number 2! Once I practically had to beg my bum to stop going so I could take my tummy shuffling baby's hand out of the cats food bowl - so violating! So yeah, I have to manage all of that and although I'm close to tears, I don't want to come across like that to my daughter - I want to teach her that women are tough (because we are) so I can't crumble and wallow! Various visits to parks, zoos, family friends are all on the agenda and for me luckily I have pretty awesome buds who have all offered to meet up without me having to ask because they know how hard it is! I fully intend to dig out every membership I have stupidly signed up to and make use of it on my solo-parenting week.

2. Eat shit food
So in order to physically survive you need to eat! But chances are you will be so exhausted that cooking will be the lowest on your list of priorities. Cue ready meals, take aways, cakes, crisps (with dip), chocolate, biscuits pretty much everything that will make you feel better. I forgot ice cream, but I'm not a big fan of it really. Or if you're more health conscious than I am (I tend to be pretty healthy but I do let my guard down these weeks) just cook and freeze loads of meals. If you're brave, go out for one! With a friend or with your bub, sod it, it'll kill a few hours in the lonely evenings won't it?

3. Pick an evening project
It's the evenings that eat away at me and I can just about cope but how the hell do I tell a baby that doesn't really understand much, where her Daddy is? How do I explain that he'll be back, how do I tackle trying to understand or tackle her little emotions ? I don't. I just distract her. We quite often have messy play or soft play late afternoon sessions, but she expects her dad for dinner bath or bedtime and when he isn't there, I've planned to distract her with a project. Currently we are working a a VW camper van style car for her to sit in and play, plus take part in painting, gluing and decorating afterwards. (I attempted creating the ninky nonk as it has 3 sections but realised I was out of my mind, so we changed it)

4. Stay in touch
Joe's usually pretty good at this when its Europe, but with an 8 hour time difference, he'll be having to say good night to Amelie at 9am (his time) and probably never a good morning unless he wants to get up at midnight or worse - me subject our kid to a most likely drunk conversation. So no, we just say good night which will probably make bedtime super hard for us both but at least we stick to a schedule. We always agree on a must chat time and 'would be nice to chat' time and agree to text throughout the day. And if Joe doesn't stick to it, I'll be on a flight to meet him wherever he may be and that way Amelie and I can stay in touch with him. I'm joking; luckily he's usually pretty good!

5. Read
I'm partial to a good book and feel so guilty reading for hours in the evening when I should be sociable so business trips always mean I can get into a good book or two. It fills my evening and let's me escape isolation, but also makes me tired which is a bonus for me as I have serious anxiety when joes not around and can never sleep!

6. Binge watch tv
One of the hardest things about marriage is tv. There aren't many programmes we both like and I always give in and miss out on my programmes, so for my evenings riding solo, I make it my job to catch up on everything!

7. Reward yourself
Keep the end in sight and know when your break will come. Most importantly do not settle for just a normal day! Plan a bitch of a day as soon as the husb is back and able to be on baby duty and treat yourself! In my case one of my favs is coming for the weekend on this occasion and I absolutely CANNOT wait for dinner out with my girlies then a mani/pedi the next day! I'll be fair and share a little baby bit but one thing is for sure - I'm having at least an entire day off and I'm not doing bath or bed time. Joe might have been away working and be shattered - but I have been working round the clock without a break whilst he's been getting full nights sleeps. PLURAL. So my advice would be take what you're owed - and some!

So that's it! For the emotional times as cringy as it seems, a simple tshirt or cuddle on his pillow makes all the difference! That and I always have this weird thing where the last day we spend together I never want to end - so I take a good few pics that day and it kinda makes the moment last all week for me! Emosh stuff is weird but whatever works for you!

Ps have a bath, keep the heating on to your heart's content and don't worry about brushing your hair or looking nice because there's no one there to see it, it's not all that bad!

We're going on a family holiday

Suitcase? Check. Holiday reads? Packed! Nails done - *sighs* no. Baby? Of course. Ever wonder what it's like to holiday with a baby? Me too; all the time! Not! I have never been so stressed or have I ever fret so much about packing the right thing, and the right amount of everything! Of course I thought of every scenario and packed the ENTIRE medicine cabinet. Armed with Calpol and the like, (basically the baby aisle of any supermarket or boots pharmacy) I stood feeling helpless over my suitcase. Not only because I was running out of space but also because I didn't know the first thing about holidays with a 10 month old! Bottles? Luckily she could make do with a few and I wasn't desperately reliant on the perfect prep machine anymore - we could just use a little bit of boiling water to dissolve the milk and top up with cold... So as long as I had a flask - shit the flask! I didn't know where the flask was, and it was coming up to 11:30 pm, the night before our 9am flight the next morning. #mumlife ?

Long sleeved, short sleeved tops and bottoms, change of clothes for sick, wee or poo, sleepsuits, swim nappies, normal nappies, toys, the HAND BLENDER... The LOT. But what might be more useful might be if I compiled a quick list of things I forgot. Just in case anyone goes on hol and might find it useful. Btw - baby milk and food pouches are totally ok to take on board a plane and there are no 100ml or less restrictions in place. So here's what i forgot:

1. Washing up liquid (for bottles)
2. Teat pipe cleaners
3. Sponge - because I was washing up with the toothbrush the hotel provided!!!!
4. Sudocrem (we ran out)
5. Buggy with a shade - we took a sun umbrella which was shockingly unhelpful

So aside from those, we had everything and we made our way to the airport. Long story short, a combination of relationship drama, baby drama and traffic drama led to us making our flight with LITERALLY only 10 minutes before check in closed! So it was no duty free shopping for me, or pre flight beers for Joe but a run (actual run) to the gate!

We made it. We sat comfortably on the plane, milk in hand, ready to give to Amelie to help with the possibility of popping ears during take off. No dramas there either - she was an angel. A (weirdly) wide awake angel despite the 6am start, but perfectly behaved. Aside from stroking the bald patch on the man in front, and a little wriggling around, she was perfect. Joe was living in a different world at this point still - and pre ordered a bottle of champagne which we wrestled from Amelie and eventually wedged down the side of him - making him freezing cold and very cramped for space. The actual cups of champs were either guarded incessantly or downed so as to avoid Amelie playing 'splash splash'. Then it dawned on us how irresponsible we must look - downing alcohol whilst clutching a kid - so I stopped drinking and Joe got basically a little past tipsy. So it was time for a family nap. Not long after lunch, (my lunch; Amelie ate my ENTIRE toastie except the crusts) she fell asleep. And I starved for another approximately 3 hours until we arrived at the hotel. But none of us were drunk, so we resumed our classy family holiday.

Normally I can't wait to dive into the cocktails (promise I'm not an alcoholic) on an all inclusive holiday.. This time I couldn't wait for a shower and a nap! Amelie had other plans though, so we went for a lovely late afternoon walk and got our bearings. The sun and heat had hit the spot, and so had the first (and only) gulp of holiday beer!  

Our adventures were great we got in some pool time, nightly visits to the children's disco -where Amelie learnt to shout and jump with excitement - and sunny walks coupled with sand play. We were loving life! I can safely say I feel 100% at ease with going out for a meal and I'm so proud to say Amelie mastered the art of chewing this holiday. The downside was that the restaurant meals were not low salt, low sugar or baby friendly and I had probably been way over generous with Amelies chocolate ice cream, mousse and sauce intake. She's allowed chocolate or cake or biscuits once a week and twice maximum... She'd exceeded her maximum allowance by the second hour of the plane journey, and had had a years worth of her allowance by the end of day 2 at the resort! Her fruit intake was on point though and we'd added watermelon and kiwi to the end of each meal - she was loving it! The staff, not so much as she worked out how not to spit and drop everything out of her mouth.

We hired a car too and got really lucky as it fell on Amelies nap time and we got to actually enjoy a couple of hours in the mountains as a couple engaging in adult talk. It was bliss! Best part? Joe and I were in the sun and the back of the car was totally shaded so for that, SEAT, Ibiza, I LOVE you (as far as cars go anyway) she pooed no joke, 4 times and kept to her usual 'once-the-car-moves-I-poo' trend.

Having had a really successful hour long coach transfer and plane journey on the way there, I was skeptical and worried for the way back.. But, she was great again and made our first family holiday officially a success!

We had a great time and came back very refreshed; albeit a little freezingg as it had snowed!