The problem with honey 

The other day I was rushing round the supermarket with a calm child (having been plied with babybel to buy me 5 minutes of not hearing ‘downnn’ or ‘puhp’). As per with my angel of a child (during aisles 1, 2 & 3 until we reach the milk aisle) an older lady (in her 70’s) commented on what a lovely healthy child he was and how nice it was to see him eating something that wasn’t organic. She then proceeded to tell me her life story; on one hand this was fine as I’d gone to asda as our daily activity and it was nice to have some adult interaction, but on the other hand I could see the babybel in his hand quickly being demolished so knew my time was very limited – we were nowhere near the milk aisle! 

Her son apparently only cooks using organic ingredients for his precious daughter and it drives this old dear insane. And honey?! Well don’t even get her started on honey! We alllll had honey and we’re fine! 

But the problem is, some of us weren’t. One day, somewhere very sad and very unfortunate, a little baby died due to the spores in honey. Then perhaps another baby died. Perhaps there were only a few – but enough to make the WHO (world health organisation) change their advice. So I get that most of us survived. And that is wonderful. But if there is the smallest chance my baby would not be with me today because of a wee drop of honey, then he can go without thanks very much. 

Middle-class child 

Whilst driving today, Baby L began having a meltdown shouting ‘mum mum mum mum!!!!’ Over. And over. And over again. I tried talking, singing, and eventually ignoring. After a few more minutes of ‘muuuuum muuuum muuuuum muuuuuum’ I exclaimed ‘whaaaaat do you want?!’ And this tiny little delicate voice replied ‘….salmon’.

😳

I love the weight of babies

I love the weight of babies. Is that weird?! I’ve always said it and always will. There’s something about the weight of a baby that I just absolutely adore. I love the way they feel in your hands (or arms when they get as big as mine!). I love their slumped feeling. Like they trust you so much in the world that they’re more than happy to wriggle and snuggle and twist and turn all the while fully expecting you to continue holding them safely in your arms. 

But there’s something specifically about their weight. Maybe it’s fitting all their human-being-ness into such a tiny little light-but-deceptively-heavy package. How do you get so much human into such a little cute package?! They’re so clever and pick things up so fast yet no one explains most things to them and they’ve not been around for very long at all. But they’re so clever. And so small. And so darn cuddly. I’m pretty sure the best things do come in small packages. Small, wriggly, innocent packages. 

Is it Stockholm Syndrome?! 

I’m pretty sure I’ve got Stockholm Syndrome. For those of you who don’t know what that is, Stockholm Syndrome derives from the case of a bank robbery in Stockholm where some of the hostages empathised and ultimately fell in love with their captors. 

I definitely have this for/with my 1-year-old son. He bites me. He laughs with glee when the sound of the contact between his open palm and my chest reverberates through the air. He lies across my neck in bed at night, but since he’s finally comfy I couldn’t possibly move him. He demands all of my food (despite him having exactly the same of his own on his own plate). He wants up up up just to wriggle and writhe to get down again. He wants me to be in the room with him and watch him bounce on his trampoline and be ready to catch him and lift him down the exact milli-second he demands so. 

But I love him. I love him sooooooo much and I desperately want him to love me back. I’ve lost the plot. I’ve definitely got Stockholm Syndrome. 

I love this little human so much

He is such a bloody rascal. And a cheeky monkey. And a charmer pants. But my god do I love him. 

He makes me laugh – generally when I’m not supposed to. Take bedtime for example. This is when he pulls out all the stops. The other night as we’d finished reading our book and were about to sing night night, he turns around quick as a flash and begins licking my face. I was giddy with laughter. What a cutesy.

And tonight…. to give you background to our bedtime routine of late, I give a quick feed to the boob-lover, which apparently has Red-Bull in it (despite me not consuming any caffeine). Cue Daddy, and within a heartbeat Baby L snuggles in and falls fast asleep. Tonight however, magic Daddy is working so I’m on my own. I did an extra calming bath and bedtime routine and settled down for a snuggle bedtime feed. For a change, Baby L decided not to even contemplate sleep. Eyes wide open, he had a quick suckle then decided he ought to point out everything in the room. So I tried re-reading a book which often calms him down. Nope. So, jiggling it was. I picked him up saying Sleepy Time Night Night, which prompted him to question ‘Dad? Dad? Dad?’ whilst holding his hands upturned out to the side to signify ‘where is’. This continued on for five bloody minutes! ‘Dad? Dad? Dad?’. I managed to hide my amusement for this before he then resorted to pointing out everything in the room again. He’s such a wee clever clogs that even the slightest change to the bedtime routine and he’s onto us!

I got to rock him to sleep for thirty minutes, and it was exhausting but also magical that I got to cuddle and hold the love of my life in my arms. 😍

Travelling with baby

  

My babe is nearly 11-months old and we decided to take him on his first family holiday to the far side of Canada. That’s a one-hour flight to Amsterdam then a 10-hour flight to Vancouver, plus all the transfers and waiting around. Cue the panic!

In preparation for the flight I decided to create a goody-bag for entertainment. It worked an absolute treat – and managed to entertain him for the full 19-hours of travel, for which he chose to sleep for one hour of that! So I thought I’d share some of the things that worked – in the hope they might work for you.  I know for a fact it worked well because at one point my husband set up an impromptu-involuntary crèche in a corner where 4 other children came to play as we were so well prepared. Check me! Parenting win! 😊

Most of the items came from the poundshop – so don’t spend too much money on things. I also didn’t show my baby most of the items so they were new and exciting for him to discover.

  • Hessian sack (for carrying toys, but doesn’t show dirt)
  • Laminated flash cards (at the moment he loves crackling, bending & chewing them)
  • Blusher brushes (he looooves these – feeling the bristles on his palms and cheeks and also doing it to others)
  • Chew toys (in bright colours)
  • Cars & trucks (great for rolling away and around floors)
  • Lego/Duplo (great for clanging together and building blocks)
  • Finger puppet
  • Jelly phone case (for chewing)
  • Carabiners (great for chewing, clanging, and unfankling)
  • Cuddly toy (cheap so doesn’t matter if lost on a plane)
  • Balls (for rolling – including lighting-up and flashing)
  • Baking spatulas (great for chewing and sensory play)
  • Books (for reading & calm play)

We got so much use out of this bag – even using it in every hotel room and for longer car journeys. 

Happy travelling!

Breastfeeding Tips

I had hoped to be a magical pregnancy unicorn. Everyone else around me was and I’d practised waddling like a pregnant lady since I was little so I was pretty sure my body was prepared for what lay ahead. It wasn’t. It broke me (quite literally in two). 

So, I thought, okay okay post-birth will be my thang. I’ll nail this breastfeeding malarkey. Naht. Not to be. Where’s the fun in that? 

However what my body didn’t know is that this was mind over matter. This wasn’t a pelvis splitting, or vomiting up everything I ate, or a massive hernia becoming overly distended. I could control this

And sure enough, 4.5 months later (that’s 18 weeks, 139 days, or more appropriately (since I awake for 3331 of them) 3336 hours) I had endured hell, but I had succeeded. Screw you body. I win. 

For 3336 hours I had sat, primarily top-naked, baby in one hand and boob in the other and tried technique after recommendation after theory after YouTube clip. I tried everything I could get my hands on. And unfortunately everything that combined to work didn’t come from the same site. So, here is a list of facts about breastfeeding that I personally found useful. I hope one of them helps you too. 

1. Get naked. Get your baby naked (nappy optional). Have constant skin-to-skin. In my rush to make everything perfect I got too clinical too quickly. Relax and snuggle with your baby – it’s miraculous what this does for your hormones. 

2. Do not sit up straight whilst relaxing your shoulders – this is virtually impossible. Instead, find an angle that works for you and your baby simultaneously (fyi the perfect angle is different for everyone). 

3. Try lying down. I got so exhausted and overwhelmed with instructions that I lay down through pure necessity. And it was spectacular. Lying down gave the baby room and scope to wriggle and make himself comfortable – I wasn’t holding him or tilting him or manipulating him into a ridiculous position – he simply did what made him happy. Ultimately that’s what made breastfeeding work for us. 

4. Drink loads of milk. Not because it’ll go straight into your boobs but because it’ll keep you hydrated and provide you with vital protein. 

5. Your baby will most likely not tilt his/her head back like the ones in the ‘helpful’ breastfeeding videos. Your baby is a newborn and not a 3-month-old breastfeeding veteran. So don’t hold your breathe for that bloody head-tilt. 

6. Squeeze your boob. Cup your hand under your boob and make it more vertical-sandwich-shaped to go along with your baby’s mouth (i.e. don’t squeeze from the side in the classic C-shape as this just makes it even more awkward to fit into your baby’s mouth). Squeeze as it increases milk flow and will help your baby learn that they’re getting there. 

7. Bottle feed to supplement if your baby needs it. This will give them extra energy for breastfeeding, not detract from successful feeding. They love their mama and will do anything to be close to you so don’t worry about confusion. They’ve just been born screaming into this world – they’re pretty good at accepting most things as the norm. 

8. Be prepared for the hormone dump. Day 5 perfectly combines dumping every hormone your body can find on you causing you to be extraordinarily unstable whilst being the number of days by which your baby should be putting on weight. This can result in your midwife telling you that you are ‘starving your baby’ and ‘he’s crying because of you’. Neither of these statements are helpful and when sleep deprived and hormone dumped it is impossible to cope with. Give your baby a bottle, go for a nap, and start the day again. Go back to point number 1. 

9. Get a new midwife if your current one is useless.

10. Have patience. Lots and lots of it. Breastfeeding won’t happen straight away, but it will happen if you persevere. Keep going. Try loads of different things and see what works. Unfortunately something that works one day might not work the next – but that statement is true for all things baby-related. And breastfeeding is no different. 

11. Don’t feel guilty about Facebook stalking or keeping up with the kardashians whilst breastfeeding. I literally NEVER put my baby down (even popping to the loo was a mission) so I needed something to ease the mind-numbing stillness and searing pain that is the first few weeks of breastfeeding.

12. It hurts. Not necessarily sharp but like a grating pain over and over and it can get too much – especially at the 23rd hour of the day. Use lanolin. It’s magical. 

13. It gets better. A lot better. And it is truly wonderful. Don’t ever think you can’t do it – everyone can. It’s just a matter of how hard you try. And if you want it – it’ll happen. Though if you fancy/end up bottle feeding that’s cool too. Don’t be hard on yourself – you’re feeding your baby and that’s what counts. 

The time my baby gave me Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease.

I try to be a good mum. I strive to get exactly the right balance between letting my child explore and sterilising everything to death. I don’t want him to get germs, but I don’t want him to have loads of allergies in later-life as he’s never encountered germs before either.  

I take my little one to lots of baby classes – sensory, signing, yoga, zoo tots, bookbug; you name it and we’ve probably done it. And I allow him to explore and play throughout these classes without rushing around and spraying other children with disinfectant. I’m nice like that. But it does make me itchy just watching the germs crawl up his hands and arms as he wriggles and squirms and frolics on the ground. But he’s having fun, so I sit there itching. And assuming I’m doing what’s best for my son. 

Then one day when we were out for lunch I noticed a little spot on his hand, but assumed he’d bitten his hand (not uncommon) and it had gone a bit red. Then a friend commented on how chickenpox was doing the rounds and I suddenly diagnosed him with it. In a mild panic I text my husband who questioned if he had them on his torso (classically that’s where chickenpox starts). Nope. Nothing there. Hmm. Then back came the text ‘Perhaps he has Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease?’. 

WHAT?! 

He has mad cow disease?! How on earth did he manage that? Is he going to die?!

No. Calm down crazy lady. Hand, Foot & Mouth Disease is unrelated (then why, pray tell, is the name soooo similar?!). Anyways, a quick GP appointment was booked and off I went. 

The GP didn’t even look at my son’s hands and feet (which by now – within a few hours) were covered in blisters. I asked about treatment and quarantine time and if I was likely to get it – nope nope nope came the response. Alright then. Home I go. 

I administered calpol and lots of cuddles and it seemed to help the wee trooper. The worst he ever seemed was a bit droopy and hot for a few hours so I did my best to keep him cool and comfortable. I snuggled him as best I could without getting him too hot and played and read with him. 

Then I started to feel a bit fluey. Hmm. That’s odd. But not too surprising as I’ve had more colds and been more ill since having him than ever before. Thanks baby. 

Then the shakes started. Then the shivers. Then the fever. Then the blisters came. Under my nails and all round my mouth and cheeks. My entire throat became one large ulcer and it was agony to swallow. The ulcers crept forward through my mouth.  I was pretty sure I was dying. 

Are. You. Kidding. Me. 

I thought I couldn’t get it?! Apparently you can’t, unless you’re exhausted and immunocompromised. Cue me. 

I felt absolutely dreadful – how did my baby manage to stay happy and smiley for those few days?! I had only given him calpol as a last resort to ‘ease his discomfort’ and here I was drugging myself to the eyeballs, almost to the point of numbness, so that I couldn’t feel anything. My tiny little baby was better at manning-up than I was. 

It was absolutely horrendous. I’ve never been ill like it. I was almost paralysed with ulcer-all-over-the-mouth discomfort. And yes, that is possible. 

A few drug-induced days passed and fortunately I started to recover. None of my nails fell off (which is quite common?!) but a few still have large gaping holes where the top few layers of nail fell off. Deeelightful. 

Now begs the question – do I take that bottle of disinfectant with me and spray everything in sight?! Or live to get sick another day? 

Great gifts for a baby-shower/ parenthood party

Here is a list of things that I think are fabulous gifts (and/or essential items) for a new family-to-be. 

  • Massage/spa vouchers 
  • Prosecco (although I do suppose any alcohol will do!) 
  • Personalised babygros 
  • Burts Bees products (brilliant stuff!) 
  • Universal footmuff for a pram 
  • Bath toys 
  • Nappy bin (we love ours and it’s sooooo much easier) 
  • Large cottonwool pads (they don’t disintegrate in the poo like the cottonwool balls do) 😳
  • Clothing aged 6months+
  • Mothercare giftcard
  • Books (I love the ‘That’s not my…’ series)

Keep your opinions to yourself please

I’m just back from the nurse, getting ‘that three yearly plastic poker thing’ (i.e. Cervical Smear) done. Naturally, I wasn’t looking forward to it. 

However, surprisingly it wasn’t the plastic that was the most painful experience of my ordeal. 

It was the part where the nurse decided to keep me hostage and explain to me for 20 minutes that I should stop breastfeeding my 10-month-old son and that he should be sleeping through the night and in his own bed. The icing on the cake however, was when she suggested I call my health visitor for tips (FYI my health visitor suggests not only do I breastfeed but that I express on top of this to provide milk for my son’s cereal, and any other meal that requires milk). So, no, I will not be calling my health visitor. Nor will I be taking your unsolicited advice. 

Crazy lady. 

Luckily I’ve had 10-months to get used to people piling advice on top of me, so I’m now excellent at not accepting it, smiling, and moving on. Life’s too short and babies grow up far too quickly to worry about co-sleeping and how often they feed. I love it and so does he, so no need for you to get your knickers in a twist, dear.