Everything is Transient

You know how they say nothing lasts forever, well it’s come to a point where my life is so jam packed that I’ve decided to leave blogging as nurturing career mama here…well after I’ve finished this last bit of chewing your ear off.

There are many reasons why I’ve decided to have a break – lack of time, enthusiasm and a wish to not have the pressure to regularly post.

But this is NOT the end! It might be for nurturing career mama but not for me. I’m still going to be writing guest posts for other blogs on baby/little person issues like breastfeeding, tandem nursing, cloth nappies, weaning etc. So if you’re interested just let me know.

Finally, thanks to everyone who has followed and commented during these last two years.

So long, farewell.

Keeping Tidy

I’m almost tempted to give up on trying to be tidy. With a three year old and five month old it ain’t easy. I dread to think what squalor we’ll be living in in a year’s time when baby boyo is on the move and I’m back at work.

Cheerios everywhere, piles of chopped up straws mingled in with breadsticks. That was the living room for just an hour in the house this morning. I dash to my bedroom to grab a muslin for the baby splodge and almost fall arse over tit on the tiny Tupperware tub surrounded by shredded paper and hair clips.

Then I’m searching for what? Oh I dunno, probably some hair bobble that must be found. And I start wadding through what is the minefield of my daughters bedroom to find a wet flannel. As I pick it up and it unfurls, out drops my deodorant – wth?!

I’m nursing the boy on my bed and hear some strange noises from the bathroom next door. Low and behold the carpet is soaked, so is my daughter and one of her teddies has clearly had a bath in the sink. It was rather a comical picture, but I do keep getting wet feet when I go in.

Now await the dirty dishes, and the kitchen that needs cleaning. I’ll hop to it…not giving up quite yet!

Three Year Old Antics

Preschoolers really can be a laugh a minute. I just had to share with you a couple of my daughters golden comedy moments from the last 48 hours.

As a parent, you will well know that it’s nigh on impossible to go to the loo alone. Not for a #1 and most certainly not for a #2 unless you can crap at the speed of light. Upon pulling up my jeans, my daughter said the following:

“mummy those are quite tight…because your big.”

Ok I get the big thing, she’s not inferring that I’m obese, just that adults are big and children her age are small. It’s what she followed it up with that was a little harsh.

“no you’re massive” followed by a huge grin.

Thank you in a sarcastic tone was really not the best answer, but my self defence mechanisms kicked in, now she thinks I like her calling me massive…hmmm

Today we had a new one. I was looking at the children’s clothes on sale in a shop. She picked up a pair of ear muffs and vocalised her wishes for them. “I want these”, then followed it up with “I want a laptop.” The women next to us smiled and said “she doesn’t want much does she”.

The not so comedy things that are seriously starting to grate on me is her total joy for cutting things, namely bits of paper. Hack hack hack, there are bits of shredded junk mail everywhere. And just when I have cleaned up, it’s like in her world, there is something missing. Yes bits of paper. I’m also not appreciating the breadstick crumbs in my bed, the endless amounts of bags being stuffed with an assortment of toys and goods from around the house and being piled in her bedroom.

But what am I to do? Smile, accept that I can’t even shit in peace and remember that I should enjoy every moment of it.

I Nearly Bottled It

I’m not talking about bottle feeding my baby, that’s for tomorrow. This is all about the preschooler.

I’ve been feeling like a bit of a bad mother today…

Babe (my three year old daughter), had all morning been saying that she didn’t want to go to nursery this afternoon. I tried to explain how much fun it would be and that her friends would miss her, but she was having non of it. I thought if I could say she didn’t have to go, that she would change her mind in the last minute. That didn’t happen. I was foolish and had to break my word.

I almost bottled it and let her come home with me. Thankfully our old childminder was there too, dropping off Babe’s best friend. She explained that the longer I hung around the worse it would be.

I left while a lunch lady held her back trying to reach for me, crying and crying…and I walked out the door.

If our old childminder hadn’t walked me up the road I’d have been crying all the way home. The wind (yeah right) caused my eye to water a little. But when I got home I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hubby got home at lunch to a silly crying wife. By this time I’m sure Babe would have been over it.

So I texted my spy in the camp, my friend who works in the nursery – to ask if she could go check and report back. All was fine – phew.

What I felt most guilty about was that I went back on my word. Almost like I’d tricked her, but I had no intention of doing that. It was only when realising the implications of giving in to her now, that I changed my strategy. I didn’t regret putting my foot down, but I felt like a fraud, that I’d betrayed her.

I explained to her tonight that I was sorry I mislead her and that I shouldn’t have lied. I’m not sure if she understood, but it made me feel better.

If there are some things I want us both to learn from today they are:

- be true to your word and don’t tell fibs
- don’t sweep things under the carpet
- always apologise for your wrong doings

Let’s hope I’m a better mother tomorrow.

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.

Little People Progress – Preschool, Rolling and Eating

I know its no surprise, but tolerate my melancholy please. My babies are growing up…sniffle sniffle. Babe (now over three) started preschool yesterday afternoon. I was fine dropping her off, absurdly it was picking her up that made me almost well-up. I had to give myself a good talking to to prevent the old puffy eyes and red cheeks breaking out.

Baby Boyo (now almost four months old) also experienced a couple of first experiences within the last couple of days.

A) Firstly the one I’m proud of. Master Chunk rolled from his front to his back (with his nappy on). He’s done it during ‘nappy off time’ on a few occasions but not till now with his huge bum clad up with cloth nappy. Before I know it he’ll be crawling and being a general menace…argh!

B) Secondly something I’m not so chuffed about – his first food. Yes much too early, but it was a bit of an accident. Babe decided to share a tiny piece of her cheese and chive crackers with her little brother. I immediately attempted to fish it out, but he’d already swallowed. Hmm I was not impressed, but no harm done. I’m planning on doing baby lead weaning this time around, not big sister lead weaning (thanks darling). And NOT before six months…so stay away you eager feeders.

In many ways I can’t believe that Boyo is nearly four months old, and I admit that I’m loving the stay at home thing. Sadly it can’t last for ever and next week I have my first meeting with my new boss to discuss my plans going forward. As my mum would say, everything in transient – so I’m just enjoying the moment right now.

Related articles

• The Boy is Two Weeks Old (nurturingcareermama.wordpress.com)
• Tandem Breastfeeding a Newborn & Toddler (nurturingcareermama.wordpress.com)

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

How To Do Father Christmas

There are many nuances according to family, on the rituals etc surrounding father Christmas. This being the first year for us with three year old Babe, means we’ve had to figure out how we want to do it as a family and what is practical.

So this is the way it’s working…

We’ve sprinkled magical reindeer dust on the patio, put reindeer food on the lawn and laid out a chocolate cupcake and a glass of port for father Christmas to nourish himself with.

The pillow cases, not tiny stockings, have been laid on the living room floor for the big man to fill with presents. We’re leaving them there, not in Babes room for one main reason. If she wakes in the night to come to my room she’ll find it and they’ll be a middle of the night present opening fest and I DO NOT want that. And erm…well that’s how we did it as a kid.

What are your father Christmas rituals?

3rd Birthday Party Madness

I’m so dizzy my head is spinning, it’s like a whirl pool it never ends…

But thank god the three year olds parties are O V E R. But credit to the wilful girlie, she was beautifully behaved at both (appart from the wee incident with one little cherubs arm – but lets not dwell on that).

*Shush no one knew about the day of hell in between the two parties. This was one of those days that if I could have resigned from being a mama I would have done. Over tired three year old super clingy, demanding, shouting grumpiness is not becoming.*

The first party on Tuesday was a huge success with my two friends and their daughters. The kids and the mamas had loads of fun (who needs alcohol). The girls trashed the house while the mums revelled in the competition of the party games. I don’t get out much (well at all at the moment) so it was great to dig out some Pulp and play musical statues to ‘Common People’. Then came the apple bobbling, which got rather competitive. Not the girls, just my friend and I, and we surprisingly did not get drenched until the little ones decided that it was way more fun to drop the apples from a height back into the bowl. Stand back! The most popular game was something I’d never done or heard of (until my friend in Germany suggested it the morning before). It involved blowing cotton wool balls across the table – simple and no water involved. They loved it.

But the girls had the most fun hanging out in my bedroom. At one point I found the three of them lined up in baby Boyo’s crib (as it has a drop side for cosleeping). Then later I found all three snuggled up in bed listening to classical fm or bird calls on my radio – such a contrast to their antics 30 minutes before.

The second party was a family occasion which was more chaotic as we had older children, more adults and it was during the dicey hours of 4pm till 7pm. That said nothing was broken and Babe had a wonderful time.

And as yet nothing or no one has been harmed by the birthday umbrella which goes everywhere. In Babes world it’s always raining, even in her dreams so she snuggles up with it in bed. I even managed to overcome her bathing reluctance by saying she could take it in the bath – she loved it when I turned the shower on. But I’m starting to harbour a dislike for it. It seems everywhere I step this blasted umbrella is waiting…just peacefully lingering in silence to bring me tumbling down. I’m hoping this infatuation begins to fade soon.

So now to ready myself for the Christmas chaos. Good luck See you at the other side.