My fears on travelling with a baby

We are going on our first family vacay in just over a fortnight’s time and cannot bloody wait!!

I am also terrified.

What do I need to pack? What do I need to organise? How much cash should I order? Can I take baby food onto the flight with me? If so, how much? Can I take the stroller to the gate? I hope the car seat we’ve rented is big enough? Should I sedate my child for the flight (something people keep telling me to do?!)? How many nappies do I need to take? How many changes of clothes do I need? How often will I get to do laundry? Do I want to do laundry whilst on holiday? Are the hotels I’ve booked child-friendly? Will my baby travel well? How many bottles of Calpol do I need? How long before the flight should I check in? What kinds of things should I pack for the flight?

At least I’ve got his passport. 

27 things I’ve done as a parent

1. Run-crept-spun (a delicate combination of all three simultaneously) out of the room to avoid being seeing by the all-seeing-baby. 

2. Decided that the amount of sick I had on my top was ‘not quite enough sick’ to warrant changing.

3. Panicked after a rather vigorous game of dance with baby incase I’ve given him Shaken Baby Syndrome (for the millionth time).

4. Cried that Gina Ford exists.

5. Needed to go back to bed since 5.40am however religiously stay up to watch TV until 11.30pm just to feel like I’m the one in control here. Then start the same ritual all over again the next morning. 

6. Promised myself I’d never need to give my child a dummy. Cue one week into the relentless screaming, and a dummy was given. 

7. Started sleep training using the cry-it-out method. We lasted 4 minutes before deciding we couldn’t cope and frantically googled other less torturous sleep training methods. We’re currently trialling ‘let the baby sleep how and when he wants’ and it’s working extremely well for him. His favourite is lying across our bed kicking us in the face. 

8. Accidentally given my baby a teeny-weeny piece of honey-glazed ham. I still can’t even think about it. (NB Honey is outlawed and should not be given to children under the age of 5!).

9. Felt guilty about #hamgate ever since I realised what I did. #parentingfail #worstmotherever 

10. Found time to laugh with my husband every single day. The stupidest things now make me roar with laughter. And it feels great, however I fully understand that the majority of this is due to sleep-deprivation. 

11. Fallen in love with my husband as a daddy. He is simply spectacular and the cool to my frazzled-in-the-sunlight cucumber. 

12. Clattered my child’s head on the roof of the car as I lift him out of his car seat. I’ve done it so often he now doesn’t cry when I do it.

13. Used the relentless rocking-to-sleep sessions as mini-gym sessions by doing squats whilst rocking and singing. It puts the baby to sleep and saves me going to the gym (the downside: highlighting how unfit I am. But no point in both of us crying).

14. Memorised where every creaky floorboard is in my whole house. 

15. Fantasised about drinking more than half a glass of red wine. 

16. Discovered just how many fabulous things nature has to offer – this week’s fascination: trees. 

17. Gotten poo on my hand and not freaked out. 

18. ‘Fished’ a poo out of the bath. 

19. Discussed the quantity, colour, consistency, smell, and frequency of poo on a regular basis. 

20. Been convinced that my baby is a bit special and wired to the moon. 

21. Been convinced that my baby is a genius. 

22. Used my boobs as pacifying tools. 

23. Forgotten an awful lot of information that I used to believe was useful. 

24. Know (and have a firsthand understanding) that there is more that can go wrong with breastfeeding than can go right. Still managed it though. #stubborn #notsureitwasworthallthehassle

25. Known how many minutes, then hours, then days, then weeks, then months old my baby is yet I could not tell you what day of the week it is or what I ate earlier today. 

26. Had more colds, flus and diseases than ever before in my life, yet still love the little Germ-Distributer more than life itself. 

27. Taken about a million photographs each day, then panicked that I don’t have enough. 

Welcome to Guilthood.

I think Parenthood should be renamed. It should be named Clueless-ville or Guilt-hood or Why-does-that-not-work-it-worked-last-night-hood. Self-help books and helpful people who state ‘my sister’s aunt’s friend’s cousin’s baby does this…’ need to leave me alone.

I constantly feel guilty. For everything and anything. Maybe I’m not giving my baby enough tummy time? Maybe I should rock him and walk him more to soothe him? Maybe I should leave him to self-soothe more often? 

I worry that I give calpol too easily then worry that I’ve not given it soon enough as when it works I know he was obviously in pain. I worry all the time. And apparently it never gets any easier. 

I worry that I don’t sing to him enough or that I’m not teaching him the alphabet (he’s 9 months old). But maybe I should leave him to play alone more often so that he becomes more independent? Or maybe that’s just cruel and unnecessary? 

For every decision I make, there’s countless other options I could’ve chosen. How on earth do I know if I’ve made the right one?! 

So I’ve decided to change this. I’ve decided to start believing in myself. To know that I don’t make any decision lightly and to overanalyse every last detail so that when I finally do make a decision I know it’s the right one for me and my baby.

I understand (and grudgingly accept) that some children are Gina Ford babies. I also know that some babies (i.e. mine) are not to be messed with and will not, under no uncertain circumstances, be Gina Forded. 

However, to me, my baby is just perfect the way he is. Yeh, he keeps me up at night – but I relish the fact I get to spend just a few extra moments snuggling with him and living in the moment. 

He’s wild and energetic and seems to just absorb attention, but he is also lovely and intelligent and a little charmer. So I must be doing something right. Right?! 

Welcome to Guilthood. Once you get over the guilt, life is pretty bloody fabulous. 

I could live in this moment forever…

I could live in this moment forever. Sitting rocking my baby while he sleeps. Watching his perfect little soft round face dream about whatever miraculous things he’s witnessed today. Is he dreaming about the tree bark he touched on the 100-year-old Oak or perhaps the cool feeling of the metal bar on his pram?
 

I could rock him forever and feel the weight of his slumped sleeping body in my arms. Feel the way his arm is draped over my arm, how his head snuggles into my neck whilst he snuffles and coughs and tries to get comfortable.

I could live in this moment forever…

Things I’ll never do…

Having studied developmental psychology, having a postgraduate qualification in primary education, and having always surrounded myself with children and childcare, I was pretty certain I would have this parenting malarkey nailed. 

Not so. 

So, for a laugh (at myself in a few years down the line), I thought I’d make a list of Things I’ll Never Do with/to/at my child. He’s 9 months at the moment and so far I have already:

  • Co-slept every night since he was 5-weeks old (after my husband and I were blind with exhaustion due to staying awake in shifts for a baby who WOULD NOT LIE ON HIS BACK IN HIS OWN BED. Trust me, we tried.). 
  • Used a dummy as a pacifier (subsequently the baby rejected it at a few weeks old. If you have the option – force it upon your baby – otherwise, like myself, your nipples will become pacifiers. Ouch.).
  • Given him Calpol as I was ‘pretty sure he has teething pain’. Regardless, it worked and he calmed down. 

Things I still plan on doing/being good at (but fully appreciate this may never be the case having now met my child):

  • Explaining things as fully as possible (for the situation) when he asks ‘Why?’.
  • Not pacifying him by giving him sweets/crisps/toys when he starts to lose his shit in the supermarket.
  • Be relaxed every mealtime and not stress about eating ‘one more spoonful’.
  • Not using TV as a reward. 
  • Not getting stressed out during his meltdowns. 
  • Ensuring he’s well behaved when I take him to restaurants. 
  • Signing with him and expanding our vocabulary to help him communicate. 
  • Take him seriously when he seems ill rather than assume he’s being dramatic. 
  • Be well prepared for all eventualities and have a bag packed full of all the things I need. 

What to say to a new mother

I have received much advice in my 9 short months as a mother. So thought I should collate all of my wisdom and make a useful list of things to say or not to say to a new mother. 

 Things NOT to say: 

  • Have you tried Gina Ford? 
  • Is he sleeping any better? 
  • When was the last time you went out for dinner with your husband? 
  • It’s because you haven’t Gina Forded him – that’s the problem.
  • My cousin’s aunt’s brother’s next-door-neighbour’s baby slept through the night from birth. 
  • Shall I hold the baby while you make the tea? 
  • Did you hear about … in the news?! 

Things that may be helpful to say to a new mother: 

  • My god you look stunning today! 
  • Motherhood really suits you. 
  • You’re stressed and exhausted?! I could never tell – you look cool, calm & collected. 
  • Your baby is so lovely. 
  • I’m going to dust and vacuum for you as I know it’s the last thing you want to waste time doing. 
  • How do you hold so much info in your head?! I’d have no clue what I was doing. 
  • Your baby is literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. 
  • Would you like some chocolate? Go on.

Dealing with a newborn

The early days are tough. Really tough.

Besides being overwhelmed with love and adoration for this tiny squirmy human being and getting to dress it in thee most adorable clothes ever, nature also decides to dump every hormone it can find on you so you breakdown. This isn’t helped by the fact that your nipples are raw and bleeding, you’re not sure how you possibly used to feel tired with only a few hours consecutive sleep, and you’ve forgotten what the shower looks like. To top it off the midwife tells you your baby is crying because your rubbish non-milk-producing boobs are starving it.

And then you have a breakdown.

Well, that’s how it happened for me – I hope your story is slightly more pleasant than mine. I was lucky enough to always know I needed a C-Section, so when my baby was handed to me I was well-rested enough to feel the overwhelming sense of love and joy and pride come washing over me. I could literally feel myself becoming full-up and overflowing with love for the most beautiful little thing I had ever seen. What a little blessing I had received. The downside of a planned section is that no labour hormones are released – meaning your body doesn’t tell your boobs to start producing milk. But I am bloody stubborn and was adamant it would work. 4.5 months later and it had. I’m not joking – I’m that stubborn (guess it shouldn’t surprise me that my baby is also stubborn).

The Hormone Dump is hard and it is horrible and the worst part of it is you cannot for the love of God justify how you are feeling. No amount of ‘oh it’s just hormones’ makes you feel any better. I had some dark days where I was horrid to my family (sorry about that) and even worse when I felt like a terrible mother and started questioning the one thing I’d dreamt I’d be good at my whole life – was I even fit to be a mother? I thought I’d be good at this yet I was failing miserably. I felt embarrassed I was having to ask for help and embarrassed when the advice I received didn’t fix my problems. What on earth was I getting so wrong?!

If I had some tips for dealing with a newborn, it would be these:

1. Breastfeeding is natural. So with an unnatural birth (i.e. scheduled section) – it’s gonna take some work. But remember that it’s natural – so do not sit up perfectly straight in the rigid chair, do not watch the Cow & Gate videos of the 3-month-old actors who are perfect at latching on, and do spend lots of time cuddling naked with your baby.

2. Series record the Kardashians. You’re gonna need the mind-numbing tv as you’ll be too tired to have any sort of attention span.

3. Have a shower as often as you like – make it a priority. Contrary to popular myths I was led to believe – taking a shower once a day will not reduce your ability to breastfeed (due to me being away from my baby for too long). As a good friend once told me ‘Showers are for your sanity, not your vanity’.

4. Remember that you love your baby – even when you’re crying. It’s okay to cry – it DOES NOT MEAN that you are a bad mother.

5. It’s okay to cry. In fact it’s great. Why not put on a sad movie so you at least feel like you’re crying for a reason?

6. Take photos of your crying baby. And you. You’ll look back on them with adoration and smile at the real memories (rather than all these images of a peaceful sleeping baby!).

7. Take photos of your sleeping baby. Because nothing is more precious.

8. Give your baby a dummy. It will not hinder your breastfeeding, won’t give your child buck teeth, and it will help your baby to self-soothe = you’ll get more sleep.

9. Don’t feel guilty. There may be different ways of doing things (and inevitably EVERYONE wants to tell you about another different/better/newer method than you are currently experimenting with), however ask yourself a) Is your baby still alive? Yes. b) Does your baby love you? Yes. Problem solved. Keep doing what you’re doing.

10. Keep a diary or even just notes – it’s amazing how much the exhaustion will make you forget and it’s wonderful to look back and remember all that you have accomplished.

11. Enjoy it. I know you’ll have been told a million times to enjoy it (but sometimes it feels difficult to ‘live in the moment’ when you can’t see straight and have forgotten your own name). However in the few moments when your baby snuggles into you, or latches on correctly, or stares into your eyes, or looks absolutely bloody adorable in the tiniest clothes you’ve ever seen, or sleeps peacefully, or smiles in their sleep, STOP and take a breathe and remember this is what you live for.

Living in a messy house

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It’s exhausting. And at times very frustrating (for example right now I’m sweating as I just rocked the baby to sleep, rushed downstairs, washed the dishes, and was halfway through folding the clean clothes from the dryer when the baby woke up again – so am now typing this while feeding the baby as time is passing too quickly and so doing three things at once seems to accomplish more (albeit with less finesse and effectiveness than I may like to admit)).

But despite being blind with exhaustion and desperately wondering what the Kardashians are up to this season, when I see a wee bundle of toys splayed in the corner, or fold back the duvet on my bed and find a rattle, my heart smiles. It’s magical. And each time it happens I remember how blessed I am to have this messy house. A house filled with love and toys and too much fun being had to keep it spotlessly clean. So by all means come visit – but don’t bother reminding me about the mess as I’m having too much fun to care. 💜