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.
I can hardly bear to watch this rubbish but i do, every bloody Saturday, because I’m just a crowd following, wine drinking zombie.
I find myself shouting at the TV like a loon, i find myself developing an intense dislike for people i have never even met, i find myself willing people to fail because it makes for more interesting TV, i find myself enjoying the elimination because – you know what, life’s a bitch and sometimes you just gotta deal with that.
What really bewilders me and makes me extra shouty is the pre-recorded clips.
‘I’ve wanted to be a pop star since i was 6 months old bla bla bla’ – cue image of contestant performing at a family BBQ. Can’t everyone dig out one pathetic photo of them dressed in 80’s pop star ensemble holding a hair brush? Didn’t everyone want to be a pop star at some point?
This is my littlest guy at just about to turn 8 months old. He’s just mastered crawling and there is no stopping him now. He is insanely interested in just about everything and is a complete PITA to breastfeed.
I never imagined that i would still be breastfeeding at this point – to be fair i didn’t imagine i would last more than a few weeks after my last experience. But we are still going, although i feel the days are drawing to a close.
My first son Little F was mainly formula fed and living in an area with high breastfeeding rates i often felt judged by other mums. I was the only one in my NCT group to formula feed. When i whipped out a bottle, instead of a boob, there were the inevitable glances of disapproval.
I drink more now that i have children.
Kids in bed, feet up, glass of wine. That’s how it goes.
It’s a marker for the end of the day. A treat – a pat on the back for getting through it.
It’s not to get drunk and it’s usually only a glass – it’s the frequency that’s the problem. Well, is it a problem? I don’t know.
I do know that It’s a psychological crutch. I have the same thing with coffee in the mornings; If I’ve had a bad nights sleep i say to myself ‘it doesn’t matter, have a coffee and you’ll be ok’. In the same way if I’m having a bad day i say to myself ‘it doesn’t matter, nearly bath time, then you can relax with a glass of (insert name of alcoholic beverage)’.
I’m new at this game and i love it when i discover a new and exciting blog to follow. I first came across dustandlove.com when i read @adadcalledspen’s hilarious entry to his short story competition. You can read it here or enter yourself here…..although you only have a few hours left, soz.
Anyway i’m not a writer but i enjoy writing and it’s one of the reasons i started this blog. A reason to start writing regularly and competitions like this are a great way to brush up. So without further ado, here is my rather rushed and very amateurish entry…….
Payback
Her eyes flicked again to the red digits displayed on the alarm clock.
11.31am.
She should get rid of the clock. Stupid, bloody, bollocking insomnia.
She sighed ridiculously loudly but the heavy body next to her continued to sleep. How could you lie next to someone and feel so totally alone.
12.52am.
There was no point in sleeping now anyway. She’d be woken up in an hour or so by her daughter Rose. She had expected the sleep deprivation that came with being a parent but seriously this was getting ridiculous.
That’s what they say isn’t it? Once you have kids you don’t have proper holidays anymore.
Instead you take a whole day packing, leave on the verge of a mental breakdown and spend the entire time furiously churning out activities to keep them from kicking off.
Different location – same old shit.
When you have kids you plan your destination, your travel, what you do, where you eat, everything – around them.
Gone are the days of sipping rum cocktails at a swim up bar in the Jamaica, taking motorbike rides through the night markets in Phnom Pneh or driving ‘top down’ along the sunny coast of California in a Mustang. But hey, I’m not bitter.
So with the above in mind (along with a considerable drop in disposable income) we finally popped our Center Parcs cherry with a visit to Longleat – and do you know what we had a pretty lovely time!
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.
So like most first time mums I did the whole NCT schizzle.
It was ok, you know once you got used to the awkwardness associated with being forced together with a group of strangers with a single patch of common ground.
Like most groups of mums we did the whole discussing and comparing our babies development – sleeping, eating, moving, yada yada yada. It became apparent that the bonding process consisted largely of stealth boasting on behalf of your baby.
Prizes were awarded to babies in the following categories:-
Anyway I was down with this, I knew the score. I didn’t actually give a rats arse but as part of the camaraderie I joined In regardless. It was mostly a load of bullshit – everyone knew everyone else was bullshitting too, but that was part of the fun.