Ezcema Be Gone!

For some time poor baby Boyo has been the smily baby with a scabby head – the scabbage patch kid.
Erm, sorry my boy, I mean eczema. It was driving my little lad wild at night, scratch scratch scratch.

My husband kept suggesting that I take him to the doctor, but I really didn’t want to be slapping on the steroid cream. There must be a more natural way? I thought to myself.

I didn’t need to eliminate the use of soaps because I’ve only ever bathed him in clean warm water.

So we started with basting him up like a chicken with olive oil, but that didn’t really help much. Then I bought a natural baby face cream from Weleda, which seemed to help a little.

Nearing the end of my tube of Weleda cream, I dropped by my local branch of Neil’s Yard and thought I might give their creams a try. Hey, what’s good enough for me is good enough for Boyo. Yes their products do seem a little pricey sometimes, but sooo worth the money. The lady in the shop gave me a sample of a calendula and oatmeal cream that they often offer to people with ezcema. I took it home, but it wasn’t much different to the Weleda cream and was a bit too runny. So I returned to ask if they had anything a bit thicker that I could try.

The herbalist blokie explained that instead he could make up a bespoke cream just for Boyo. I was a little reserved about saying yes. I anticipated having to pay a small fortune. But when he explained that I would get a huge pot for £12 I agreed.

I applied it every nappy change (just cause that was a regular interval that reminded me), for about five days. That’s all it took! Now I apply it about twice a day.

It’s the best £12 I’ve spent in ages, his ezcema and scabby head is gone!

I can’t recommend the service that Neil’s Yard offer highly enough. If you’ve got any kind of skin complaint that you can’t get resolved, give them a go. They can even tweak a cream once they’ve made it up.

Here is a picture of the tub below with a list of the added ingredients that go in the base cream.

Have You Started A Bottle Yet?

A different bottling theme today, and this time I’m refering to bottle feeding Boyo. At this age (and if you haven’t got to go back to work yet), if you can be be bothered, good on you, but for me the hassle is not worth time away. Expressing, sterilising and then feeding – the boob is just soooo much easier.

Baby Boyo is now four and a half months old and the added hassle of trying to get him adapted to taking feeds from a bottle is too much for us to entertain. All that pumping and crying, for what? So I can go out without him for a few hours while hubby fends for himself with the three year old and baby. No thanks. I have no desire to be apart from my baby yet and I doubt hubby has a wish to advance multitasking skills to that level. Although I’m sure he’d love to be able to feed the baby…that part of breastfeeding can be really tough on the dads.

I appreciate that many mums are desperate for some “me time” away from the baby. But that’s just not me. I felt the same with my three year old when she was tiny. I expressed so I could go to the supermarket on my own and guess what, it felt wrong.

My sister in law, who’s hen night is coming up soon asked if I had got him on the bottle yet so I could go along.

I agreed to join for the meal if I could bring him along. But now I’m having second thoughts. It’s in the city centre on a Saturday night, they’re planning on drinking before the meal and the theme is St Trinians. It’s not the fear of dressing up, but its not the quiet meal I envisioned.

So for now baby Boyo is staying near his food source and I’m not going to bottle it. I don’t think I could contemplate an evening without him anyway.

Baby Boyo Four Months Old

I’d say he’s perfect in every way, but then he does have rather a scabby head and poops a little more than I’d like But apart from that he’s the business.

My fear of not falling madly in love with baby Boyo the same way as my first born seems ridiculous now. We are in separable, I go no where without him. Another room is the largest distance that we can both cope with at the moment. Even if he’s deep in sleep, I’m not going anywhere without my baby!

My how time has flown by, he now giggles (a most handsome gurgly cackle), rolls over from his front to back (mostly out of frustration – ‘ma what do I want to stare at your scanky carpet for?’) and lots more cool things like properly holding a weighty object.

I adore the way he drinks his mama milk, will stop part feed and just look up and smile or coo – as of to say “hello”. I’m not so enamoured with the way he pulls off the towel covering his nether regions during nappy change and then pees on my bed. Or poops, poops so forcefully that it splatters the wall a couple of feet away (yeah sorry perhaps a bit too much information there).

After a few weeks or hardcore feeding he has really begun to chunk up…with gorgeous rolls of baby fat (not too fat, but you know, not wiry). I suspect this boy is going to eat us out of house and home. I think I will have yo start baking a cake a day soon, what a shame (I do so lurve licking out the bowl).

Have Baby Will Breastfeed…Anywhere

If my baby is hungry,
I feed him. NOW.
Not when I get home,
Or get back to the car,
I don’t say “come now it’s not that far.”

I don’t wait for a printed sign to say I can breastfeed,
Little stirs and cry’s from my baby is all that I need,
So don’t hold back, come on now follow my lead.

How mamas choose to nurse their babies is their choice. Personally I think breastfeeding in public should be normalised. Mamas are doing one of the most natural, healthy things possible – we shouldn’t have to hide in a corner or sit in a dirty toilet to feed our babies. Social pressure is one of the reasons mums give up. Don’t let it beat you.

Be brave and bold and you’ll be surprised at how readily people around you accept it.

Go on give it a go, help the mothers of tomorrow.

For those adept at nursing in public, why not share your most adventurous examples. Here’s a few of mine…

- In the tyre changing garage
- While pushing my three year old on a swing
- In the supermarket while pushing a trolly full of shopping and preschooler, at the check out, on the floor in the freezer isle…it goes on

What about you?

Teething Has Begun

“He’s wearing a necklace?!” People exclaim thinking what the heck is she on with this time? I’m very inclined to reply with sarcasm along the lines of “I’m planning to rear him gender neutral, and don’t you know – he also wears pink dresses.” But I stop myself getting defensive of my non mainstream parenting methods and offer a polite explanation instead. Why of course they would wonder, I would have asked the same question a couple of years ago.

You might be one of those people still wondering, fair enough…

My handsome little four month old boy is sporting a honey toned Baltic amber teething necklace. It’s not just to make him look super cool, there is s health reason. It’s to ease teething pain. Some of my crunchier mama friends swear by them. When it comes to teething, if it’s natural we’ll try it.

Apparently natural Baltic amber promotes fast healing and boosts the immune system. Something about reducing acidity in the body? How does it work? By being worn against the skin, the warmth releases natural healing oils – the stuff that is supposed to help keep infants stay calm and more relaxed during teething.

I can’t yet comprehensively comment on the effectiveness, but I’ll keep you posted. What I can say is that since he’s worn it we’ve had no sessions of inconsolable crying.

If you too are thinking about this option, be sure to get gueniue Amber, there are imitation cheaper versions out.

Four Month Growth Spurt

I’ve got one very hungry hippo, this boy won’t stop drinking. Pretty much every hour around the clock he wants some num nums. Never before have I been so grateful for cosleeping. As you might imagine, I in turn am one hungry mama. This morning I woke up feeling like I hadn’t been fed in days. To top it, because of the morning mayhem, I didn’t have chance to eat my giant bowl of porridge before charging out the door to prescool with baby on boob and three year old in tow.

Why is it whenever you are late little people take the chance to dawdle? “Mummy look at this”, “mummy I’ve dropped my cardigan”. This is the blasted cardigan she refused to put on under her coat before we left, that consequently was dragged along the pavement for a large part of the walk to school.

Back to baby Boyo on his growth spurt. “Oh you’re feeding” exclaimed one mother as I thanked her for holding open the gate. “You always seem to be feeding.” It really has felt like it for the last day. She’d seen me in the park after school yesterday nursing baby Boyo while racing around pushing swings, lifting my daughter on and off the bouncy whizzy thing etc.

And so much for not being a zombie mum…I think I might be halfway there today. I’m so thankful that this is Babe’s full day in preschool. If I’m lucky I might cram in a nap before picking her up at 3pm.

Baby and Boss

Oh my, I’m shattered. Today was exhausting but very successful. I was nervous; it involved taking a teething baby and driving 90 miles up the motorway to meet my new boss and having a lunch meeting with colleagues. I was safe to say, bricking it. I didn’t realise how much until I arrived in the car park deliberating the right time to enter the office with Boyo.

I was jaded too, although not half as much as I am now. My teething boy hadn’t kept me up all night crying, but did insist on pretty regular feeds. Then my three year old daughter decided to come and grapple for my attention at 2.45am. Once in my bed she insisted (yes insisted by her infernal moaning and naughty kicking) on me to snuggle up to her while she wrapped her arm around my neck (head lock like), so I couldn’t wriggle away for some space until she was fast asleep. Then stupidly an hour or so later after more baby Boyo nursing I reached for my glass of water and woke her again (doh).

I eventually got out of bed at 6.35am, although I’d been awake waaaaayyy before this. If there was ever going to be a need for coffee, now was the time.

My early start worked, things went smoothly, in fact the whole day has.

Baby Boyo was a diamond. No crying in the car, no crying in the office, just a bit of balling when we got home. Poor lad had become over hungry, upset, gulpy and then windy. The only times he showed me up while out was when he decided to do a hugely loud and long poo during our lunch meeting. Thank you my man, your timing was impeccable (not). Fortunately we were among friends, and rather than cause a grimace we just got grins.

Apart from Boyo being peaceful, I was also nervous about the out comings of my return to work discussions with my boss. And despite being an out and out brazen nurser in public, I was nervous about doing it in front on my new boss. Pah, what was I worrying about, this is the guy with nine kids.

I’d love to work on writing some more witticisms (ok so I’m too tired to entertain), but I have to get some sleep zzz zzz

More Sleep Through Cosleeping & Bedsharing

Three years ago I wouldn’t have dreamt of bedsharing with my baby and here I am, believing in my own mothering instincts and getting so much more sleep as a result of it. To date I have had few days when I feel like a real zombie mum. But I fear teething might sort that out for me.

This time around with baby Boyo there is more research to support my bedsharing choice, I trust my instincts better and I’ve had some decent health visitor support.

How does bedsharing with a baby work?

We only bedshare part of the night, unless baby Boyo is under the weather and not tolerating an arms reach distance from me. Last night was one of those nights, with a raging cold he just wanted me close. And as it happened Babe (the three year old), did too. So I was sandwiched between them and slept remarkably well.

Our bedsharing looks like this – I nurse with baby Boyo lying down next to me, lying on his back turning his head to the right. I then lie and sleep on my left side with his head below my left arm, which is either tucked under the pillow or bent up to rest my head on. When he is not in my bed he is still right next to me in his Cosleeping crib.

When we bedshare I don’t do various things to ensure the safety of baby Boyo:
- Don’t use duvets, just a blanket or two. I always ensure that there is no extra blanket bulk near him, by pulling the blanket tightly around me when nursing and tucking it under my body. I am a little hot water bottle at night, so getting cold isn’t something I have to worry about too much (call me sweaty Betty if you will). If it does happen to be that bit too cool for me I put on an old cardigan or my merino wool thermal long johns – sexy I know. Actually as long johns go, in black they’re pretty fetching. It’s the drab brown nightgown I put over the top that ruins the look.
- Don’t use a baby sleeping bag (sadly I have lots from Babe which I was hoping to give a second life). He has blankets instead as he gets too hot with a sleeping bag on lying next to me. I also like the flexibility of blankets, allowing you to throw on an extra layer if it gets cooler, and simply peel one off when he’s starting to feel a tad toastie. Under the blankets he sleeps in a vest and sleep suit.
- Don’t let baby sleep in the middle. He always sleeps on the outside edge of the bed (next to his Cosleeping crib), not inbetween me and my husband or three year old. That way there is no risk of them rolling onto him. I now understand there is no risk of me doing this (so pipe down you ill educated scaremongers), and there is a wealth of scientific research from well respected universities across the globe that back up my mother instincts.

Life is lovely; we sleep at night so we can laugh and play in the day. Now we’ve started, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Stocking Up The Food

Just before I was about to dig out the lentils, I bundled the kids in the car to replenish our dwindling appetising cupboard stocks.

I’d successfully navigated past the little person ride-on machines without Babe having to climb onto each one for a pretend ride. I’ve never given in to putting coins in those machines because I know that somehow we would be cursed to frequent their services upon every visit in the future. Or pay the whining price (don’t get me on my hatred for whining; shout, cry, stamp your feet but for crying out loud don’t whine child).

Anyways, I stumbled upon an hour within the supermarket that took me through a spiral of emotions. From thinking ‘oh bloody hell’ when baby Boyo projectile vomitted my good milk across the biscuit/egg isle floor, to the kind lady on the check-out that saw I was busy nursing the boy when it came to packing the bags, that she insisted I go sit down to feed him while she packed my bags and fed Babe with chocolate. I was truly touched by her kindness. Big up to big supermarket service, I thought I’d never say that!

Two minutes later some turd of an aged man decided to then wash away that nice happy glow I had as I walked out the store with giant trolly of shopping and three year old while carrying a baby. Without any consideration of the weight and manoeuvring issues of such a load he decided to charge towards the entrance down a narrow path which I was trying to stay on without bashing anyone’s car. Instead of giving way to me he carried on, and so did I. Half of me thought he’d stop and let me through, the other half thought, screw you I’m coming through wether I bash into you or not. Bash we did, and his hand got smushed. He looked up and said ‘ouch’. I looked up and said nothing. I was not sorry and on this occasion I wasn’t going to say it just to be polite. I hope that was a gentle lesson learned for him.

To conclude, don’t mess with me when I have my babies and food is involved. I have no mercy

Three Years Breastfeeding & Three Months Tandem Feeding

Ask me three years ago about breastfeeding, and I’d have told you I didn’t know much but I’d be giving it a blooming good go. Three years on, Babe is three and still nursing (about two/three times a day) and baby Boyo is three months old and nursing strong. Who’d have thought it (not me) that I’d be nursing a toddler and doing tandem feeding too. In those dark nights during the early days I thought I’d be lucky to last three weeks or three months, let alone three years.

The truth is, despite the health benefits, my babies and I love num nums…erm, sorry, I mean breastfeeding. A pet name comes in handy when out in public. The last thing I wanted my toddler saying at the top of her voice out in public is “I want boobie now mummy, give me boobie!” I’m brazen about nursing in public, but that would have just been a bit too forward for me.

Some people ask when I plan on stoping Babe (the 3yo) from having num nums, and I’ve declined them an answer. I want her to make that choice. I just don’t know what the cut off is either. I originally thought a year was enough, my opinions have changed and I’ve learned not to forecast this situation – but let it evolve. I ask people therefore in the meantime not to cast judgement and respect that I am doing what I feel is physically and emotionally best for my children. Call me a hippy if you will, but you might be better to call me dedicated and focused, I’d like to think that’s a more accurate description.

I did ask Babe yesterday if she thought she was too old for num nums. I got a firm ‘no’

So I’m not looking at the end, because I don’t know when it will be. In the meantime the three of us are enjoying the journey and daddy’s appreciating the peace.