Reasons to be glad #4

Disney at twat o'clock

It is a very rare occasion that my small person sleeps through the night, in fact so rare I can count all the times on one hand. When she DOES sleep through it means she's wide awake at 5am. Often shes awake super early even if she doesn't sleep through. 

Sometimes I cannot bear another episode of the friggin' Zing Zillas or Postman Pats special delivery service (special because he's shit at his job and nothing gets there on time). Sometimes there just isn't any kids TV on at twat o'clock, so instead we watch Disney.

Yes Alice STILL has milk from a bottle and we cuddle and everything! 

I put the kettle on, get the milk and cuppa ready then we cuddle up for the film. The older Alice gets the more she wants to move and play as opposed to sit and cuddle. These morning bottle/tea/movie moments are a small window where she will just sit and be cuddled and its lovely. 

It is pure mummy daughter time and I try not to take it for granted because there will come a day when she isn't willing to do this anymore...or she wants to watch the same film a million times in a row. 

It's especially lovely at the minute too because I get to re-live all the awesome stuff from my childhood with Alice...or at least introduce her to it and hope she enjoys it too. If she doesn't? She can empty the dryer happily while I re-live those moments by myself.

Some moments are even better now. Whenever I watch The Little Mermaid I always smile at Ursula because let's face it, she's awesome and because she was inspired by the drag performer Divine! 

Just going to leave this here..

Reasons to be glad #3

Tea. It is wonderful stuff. Along with coffee it is the fuel of mums (and nurses for that matter). Tea starts conversations, it is comforting, it is rewarding and it turns me into a human in the morning. 

I love everything about tea and the whole ritual of making a cuppa. I enjoy choosing the type of tea, the cup, whether to have it sweet or not. 

The first tea of the day is the 'good God is it even daytime?!' tea. It is usually at 6am, strong and bloody sweet. It is essential to getting my brain to start functioning. 

The second cup is the nap time cup and it is bliss! Alice is down, it is 2 hours of the day where I can have free time, do some me stuff and ignore the dishes and hoovering that I really should be doing instead. This cup is like a reward and if there is a chocolate hobnob floating around the cupboard even better! This cup of tea is always drunk hot which is a luxury. I get to drink hot cups of tea at work but they come in polystyrene cups so its not the same. 

The third and final cup is usually after the nap is finished and before dinner is started. It's the 'come on you can do this shit!' cup to give me the energy to make dinner, put the small one to bed and get ready for the next day.

Since becoming a mum tea has become a symbol of adult/child free time for me. I love being a mum but its hard, its non stop and there aren't scheduled breaks...sometimes there are no breaks. Tea for me is a mum break in a mug, a little daily reason to be glad.

Mum moments

All parents have days where their small person or people seem to throw routine out the window and try something new. I don't know about other parents but I like to pretend I'm prepared for it, I can handle this, its to be expected with children but the truth is I can't. I feel like I forget everything and I spend most of the day flapping trying to keep up. There is a fine line between laughing about it or crying about it..or shouting...or all three sometimes. 

I had been dreading today a bit anyway because Alice was due her immunisations but in what now seems like a favour from the universe the nurse was sick so they have been postponed. 

Alice has developed a habit where most nights she is awake for 2 hours in the night for usually no apparent reason. Last night was no exception. We did the usual thing this morning, she plays with the loudest toy she can find while I get her milk and down some tea in an attempt to make myself feel a little human. A couple of hours of this is usually followed by a nap and time for me to get ready. Not today.

Today Alice decides nap time should be sooner then usual but wait mummy's in the shower, let me call to her continually. I ignore her, she'll settle soon I think. Big fat no. 

I give in eventually and bring her in the bedroom so I can put my make up on only due to decorating we don't have a bedroom door so I baracde the doorway with a bin and laundry bag. Initially she finds me swear muttering amusing until she discovers my bedside table is unmanned. She rummages through it and out come all manner of make up and toiletries. I leave it for as long as I can but have to stop her when she is about to empty the entire contents of a face wipe packet. This is met with a tantrum. 

We go downstairs for breakfast. The tantrum continues as she follows me round the kitchen like a puppy. She's hungry, clearly I didn't get the memo about the routine change and have failed to have nourishment ready. The winge tolerance meter is about to explode so in a desperate attempt to soothe the beast I give her some crisps. That's right, my small persons breakfast (or part of it) were some cheesy puffs. She loved it.

I continue breakfast making buying more time with more crisps then I hear a noise. I look down to see her emptying the recycling bin and at first she's taking it out to put it back, awww, I think. Another noise, again I turn, she is now trying to drink out of an empty milk carton! She's done this a few times now and I'm pretty convinced this is the way she's developed to tell me she wants a drink. 

Next is the porridge which goes down well but then dear lord the winging comes back! I can see the look on her face it screams 'where's my fucking cheese on toast!' Or it would if she knew the word fucking. 

Off I go again to make the cheese on toast, moving her away from bins and plug sockets as I do. We eat the cheese on toast (quite happily actually) and then she crawls into my lap and winges because again I missed the memo that NOW its nap time. 

Up to bed we go where finally she sleeps and I drink tea and eat cookies. 

Parenting is made up of lots of different moments. Some are full of worry like the moments when your child is ill, other moments are hilarious like when your child dances to Lady GaGa, some moments are stressful like when your child refuses to sleep...and other moments like today are a mixture of all 3. Although I wouldn't admit in the stressful moments I wouldn't have it any other way. 

The Poo Bus

This is not a review, I don't do reviews and most likely never will but THIS book! This book is weirdly epic. 

 Alice loves books and I love reading to her but I can't face reading the same damn books over and over and buying new books every week is expensive so once a week we make a library trip. If I'm being honest I enjoy it way more then her, she just looks bored while I'm rummaging through the little kids section excitedly trying to find books from my childhood and relive the greatness that is The Tiger That Came To Tea, The Greedy Zebra and Whatever Next. 

During our latest trip I found the little gem that is Here Comes The Poo bus. I was probably as excited as when you find a £5 note on the floor and you get to keep it.

I've read it to Alice a few times now and she seems to enjoy it nearly as much as me. What's not to love about a story about poo?! 

I do wonder though how anyone sat down and thought do you know what would make a great story? A bus made out of poo! With lots of of subtle references all the way through like 'steaming' and 'heavy load'.

I won't say too much in case anyone fancies a read but if you think a story about bugs, poop and an ugly toad sounds intriguing I highly recommend Here Comes The Poo Bus. 

Oh and I forgot to mention, it rhymes. 

Reasons to be glad #2

Friends.

A bit like my husband my friends have put up with the ups and downs, the good and the bad and all the crazy. They have been there planning my wedding in 3 months instead of a year because I got pregnant (opps!). They have been there through the repeated break ups and make ups with boyfriends, they have helped me move house a gazillion times and they have been supportive of whatever crazy creative craft endeavour I’ve suggested. They have even come over and helped me when I’m sat weeping into a pile of fabric and thread.

My friends supported me through the ups and downs of pregnancy offering support and sympathy eating with me. They have listened to my birth story a million times, each time being supportive and non judgemental.

Sometimes it feels hard to be honest with friends because I don’t want to bore them with the same old crap and people have their own stuff they don’t need to hear mine over and over on top of that. Sometimes it feels unfair to talk about birth AGAIN because I don’t want to sound like motherhood is some awful thing that happened especially when talking to people who have just started this journey or are about to.  

I have been really surprised by the warm, supportive response this blog has received particularly by my friends. I’ve got to admit there was a part of me that sort of cringed when I knew people had read it, especially some of the more honest bits. No one had to read it, even the people that I cheekily asked to. No one had to like it or comment but people did/do and it has helped me feel a little more ‘normal’ and not feel so ashamed about how I am feeling. It has been a great relief to be 100% honest, to talk about my fears, my low points and my high points and have other people to share this with.

Thank you to my friends who continue on this journey with me. Thank you to the friends that have txt me at 3am when Alice won’t sleep, to the friends who have arranged a catch up and some grown up time, to the friends that have listened to my verbal diarrhoea over a cup of tea. Thank you to the friends who celebrated my birthday with cake at midnight on a night shift, to the friends who dress up as Batman villains and eat Subway with me, and to the friends who have discussed baby poop with me.

Thank you for making the bad days a little easier, the good days a little brighter and for helping me to see the funny side of life.

  

                                                                       

My harshest critic

Today started off brilliantly. I felt like I was winning at motherhood, ‘I’ve got this!’ I thought. Ha! One non sleeping, winging small person later and I am uptight, stressed, cursing myself because of something horrible I’ve said and the whole day feels ruined. Before pointing out this is catastrophic thinking I know it is and it’s frustrating that knowing this doesn’t make it easier to stop.

After this Alice fell off the bed which was mortifying. She was absolutely fine after a cuddle and being allowed to pull out the entire contents of a 150 nappy bag pack while I sobbed (and I did).

To top the afternoon off I clicked on this article on my Facebook and started ruminating about birth. AGAIN. I started thinking where was my reassurance? Where was my information? Hell where was my friggin’ care?! I started to feel really bitter and sore about the whole experience.

I found myself sitting in a bad mood puddle refusing to get out of it. I spoke to friends, I spoke to husband, I did things and had things that would have made me feel better but still I sit there insisting I’m drowning.

I am not saying that I have exaggerated everything that has happened or that I’m some kind of misery lover because honestly I can’t stand those people and the idea I might turn into one is terrifying. I’m saying that sometimes the only person holding me back is me. Sometimes the only person ruining my good day is me.

Somehow I need to remember to give myself permission to carry on being happy and being a good mum. I am not a bad mum just because I snapped or got it wrong. It is ok to forgive and carry on. I am not a bad or incapable mum because I found labour terrifying and bloody painful. I am not weak in some way because of my experience. I owe myself time to fully heal, I will get there. I am not a bad mum because I whisper ‘for fuck sake’ when Alice wakes me up at 3am just because she wants to play. I’m just totally crap with broken sleep, but that’s ok there’s other stuff I’m good at.

It is so easy to condemn yourself as not good enough because you are trying to live up to every standard of motherhood/parenthood out there but there is only one standard you should be living up to; your child’s.

I look at Alice and I know she loves me, she thinks I’ve got this, she has no idea I’m shitting myself thinking ‘god damn it where is the manual for this thing?!’ When her grandparents drop her off home and I open the door she gives me the biggest toothiest grin and says her version of ‘Hiya!’ it is freakin’ adorable. Sometimes she laughs so hard she can barely breathe, I make her do that. I always put her first, she is the queen of this castle and she has no idea. When I pick her up she cuddles me, sometimes she will stop playing and crawl over to me just to give me a hug. Sometimes she misses and hugs the carpet  but it’s the thought that counts. Everyone always says what a happy, contented child she is and she couldn’t be that way if she wasn’t happy and I wasn’t doing something right.

A good mum does her best for her child.

A good mum plays with her child and does everything to make them laugh.

A good mum cuddles her child LOTS.

A good mum loves her child fiercely.

I am a good mum.

Reasons to be glad

Sometimes it’s hard to be an egg as opposed to a potato. Stress, busy lives not to mention sleep deprivation start to feel really heavy after a while.

Everyone has good days and bad days; the good days feel amazing and the bad days feel lonely and never ending. I find it really hard to feel even a shred of positivity when I’m having a bad day. I disappoint myself, I consider myself the worst mum in the world and sometimes even being in my own skin feels unbearable. It feels like things might never feel better again even though I know they will, sometimes it feels like I don’t deserve them to get better again. 

I find it strange how time feels different in good moments and bad ones. Time in the bad moments moves slower, it’s heavy and suffocating. Time in the good moments is fleeting, it’s uplifting and peaceful.

I want to make more of an effort to make the good moments last longer, so here we are, my weekly reasons to be glad.

#1 My husband

Someone once asked me what my relationship with my husband is like and I said ‘it’s all the things I never thought were real in a relationship, it’s like the whole prince charming thing’. He’s loving, he’s kind, he’s loyal, he compliments me, he makes me laugh more than anyone and we have so much fun. He listens, he offers support, and he respects me and my independence.

That beautiful moment just after the ceremony where
 he whispers something rude to his pregnant bride..and then
giggles about it.

If you had asked me 14 months ago if I knew how much he loved me I would have said ‘of course!’ but really I had no idea.

Becoming parents is a complete life changer anyway, it changes things forever and some of this change is bloody tough. This was our experience but on top of that I have struggled since Alice’s birth and with becoming a mum in general.  

It probably sounds dramatic but I assure it’s not when I say it must have been bloody tough at times living with me over the last year. The mood swings from anger to sadness to happiness and back again, the anxiety particularly at night, the insomnia and panic attacks (which still happen quite a lot this far on from the birth) not to mention all the other crap. There were times when not only was he looking after me, probably not sleeping and then working a full day he was also looking after a newborn. I don’t need to list all the times that were hard, the point is that he was there and he still is.

He was there patient, kind, loving and understanding through no matter what. He never once lost his temper with either me or Alice and never even seemed phased by whatever was going on. He has complete faith in me as his wife and as Alice's mum...and I think I need to listen to him more on this.

 The biggest thing is he makes me happy, we make each other happy. We have so many happy memories, our first holiday to Barcelona, our wedding day, that time we spent ages trying to get a humungous moth out of the house. After a long time of chasing this friggin’ moth we finally catch it and let it loose out the front door for it to fly straight back in! We caught it again and husband ends up running to the end of the drive, releasing it and running back in. What our new neighbours think I have no idea but we laughed so hard because of this moth and we STILL laugh about it now.

The responsible faces of parenting. That's right folks,
someone put US in charge of a small person.