**Well actually it was more like 14 months ago but it didn’t have quite the same ring to it as a title so sue me ;)**
This time ‘just over’ a year ago we were jetting off on holiday to Cyprus. Septembers final fling with the diabolical summer that we had.
A chance for F to experience his first true taste of beach life, far away from the cold grey waters of home. A chance for us to spend so much time in and out of the water that we hardly have any shots of us in clothes.
My little Pirates! It’s been quite a while since i did a post on you two. This blog was meant to be a bit of an online diary but somehow it’s manifested into….well i don’t know really, just a place with random ranty spiel i suppose. Anyway, so i feel bad that i don’t mention the most important people in my life just a little bit more! Here we go then….
Little Mr. F wow your loud! You have an answer for everything, is there, um, anything you don’t know? The backchat has already began ‘No i won’t! you do it!’ We are probably shouldn’t laugh and I’m sure it will come back to bite us on our bums but you look so cute stomping your feet and announcing each word with an extra dollop of ‘spirit’.
So the first date was a success! We pumped ourselves full of reconstituted chicken and gave birth to a fireman teddy bear. Pretty perfect, but difficult to top.
Last week we finally managed to find a window of opportunity to get out on our own again and this time i was eager to take Little F to the cinema for the first time. Over the last 6 months he has actually started to enjoy watching a bit of television and on discovering the Disney Cars film he actually sat and watched it all – amazing!! Over an hour of sitting! Just sitting, not moving, SITTING! I was gobsmacked.
I’m not sure what’s worse – being ill with a crappy bug or being the only one well enough to clean up all the sick?
The last 24 hours in our household have been somewhat vomit ridden.
One minute we were having a lovely time kissing dinosaurs the next we were regurgitating lunch. There were tides of tears – it was not fun.
my last bump pic – 3 days later it all kicked off
I don’t want this to be a big long post going through every tiny detail about the day i became a mum for the first time but I’m afraid if i don’t write it down soon i will start to forget it.
I don’t want to do a post that is predictable, cheesy and vomit inducing but i apologise because i’m afraid it probably will be….at least a little bit!
Ok here goes….
On the 12th August 2010 I woke up and something didn’t feel quite right, i went to the loo and to me it looked and felt like my waters had gone. I was also getting funny little niggles so i told J and he decided to stay home from work. He commuted up to London at the time and if it did turn out i was in labour it would have been a 2hr trip to get home – not good.
Like a lot of second time mums i have not been looking forward to the crawling stage this time around. However baby S is now way past the happily lying under the baby gym cooing stage and now at the desperate to crawl so unhappy all the time because he can’t work it out stage.
*Caveat – photo’s make it look like he’s having fun but that’s because i’m not taking ones of the times he face plants hard onto his nose or into one of his brothers hot wheels – that does not a happy baby make.
The way i see it now is that running around after him and constantly picking up chocking hazards can’t possibly be any worse than listening to the non stop whinging!
He can get up on all fours, rock around, put his hands forward, put his knees forward – just um, not with the right level of co-ordination. I forget how long it took from this stage, I’m thinking he must have it down by 2 weeks right? Any idea’s? Come on baby!
Since before Little F could walk or talk he has been obsessed with being outdoors. Every morning, before we had even had our breakfast, he would crawl up to the front door and bang on it eager to get out. He was, and still is, a nosy and determined little fella – desperate to explore life and all it has to offer.
Put him in a room full of toys and he will just seek out the door, eager to find out what is on the other side.
Sometimes i would wonder how on earth i had a son like this – wouldn’t it have been more apt for me to be paired up with a chilled out cbeebies fanatic? It seems not, TV involves sitting. Something not really in Little F’s vocab.
Some unpredictable time between 6.00 and 7.30am – We are woken by a squawking baby and/or a way too energetic small person trying to jump on our heads
7am – Milk distribution ensures momentary calm
7.20am – We all watch postman pat SDS in bed – i question whether we should allow our children to watch such tripe and how Postman Pat is able to maintain his employment despite his persistence incompetence
7.40am – Chaos is resumed – it becomes of the utmost importance that we proceed immediately downstairs to play with cars
8am – An attempt at breakfast is made and rejected
8.10am – Breakfast is enforced
8.20am – J leaves for work, i begin the arduous task or extracting weetabix from various orifices
8.30am – The baby is placed in the jumperoo
9am – The baby sleeps and i try and make a cup of coffee but am intercepted by the boy who wants me to get down on my hands and knees to race cars with him
9.30am – A trip to the park is suggested and met with approval
9.35am – The boy is unhappy that we are not already at the park
10am – After 30 minutes of packing the various paraphernalia needed for brief trip out with a small child/baby we finally make it to the park
11am – Suggestion to leave the park met with disapproval
11.15am – Suggestion to leave the park met with disapproval
11.30am – Suggestion to leave the park met with disapproval
11.45 – Suggestion to leave the park met with disapproval
12pm – The baby and I are bored and hungry and a decision to leave the park is taken. Despite being at the park for 2 hours the boy feels incredibly hard done by and proceeds to wail all the way home and insist i carry him, and his scooter, whilst also pushing the buggy
12.15pm – Lunch – whatever i offer is not good enough unless it’s chicken nuggets. If it is chicken nuggets then the cooking time is not acceptable. The baby throws food around the kitchen and is sick. He rubs his hands in the sick and then rubs it in his hair Continue reading
So my eldest son F is getting referred to as a ‘she’ quite a bit lately; um well most of the time actually.
At the park yesterday and the results were as follows – Being called a she 3-0 Being called a he.
I’ve been thinking about my two different labour and birth experiences lately as a few of my friends are pregnant or have recently given birth and naturally they have asked questions about how things went for me.
With Felix i had an epidural, read magazines to pass the time and was almost falling asleep between the pushes.
With Seth it was drug free, i punched the walls to pass the time and i almost wanted to die between the pushes.
Of my second birth people tell me i should be so proud and although i understand where they are coming from in actual fact i am much prouder for coming through my first experience.