Food, General, Parenting, Parenting, Personal, Uncategorized

What’s Been Going On?

It’s been a while Again since I have written a blog post, it’s been Christmas and New Year, and then the struggle of getting back into the swing of work/housework/parenting after having a little time off at Xmas is always draining. When is it you should stop eating crackers and cheese and pate and chocolate for every meal..? Asking for a friend that’s all.

So, as usual, Christmas was hectic and stressful, but honestly this year has been the first year that I have ACTUALLY enjoyed Christmas Day from the beginning to the end. We had Norms’ family over in the morning, and then Will had a sleep after playing with his new toys, I prepped Xmas Dinner, then we ate, opened more presents and just played for the rest of the day. It was very relaxed, none of this to-ing and fro-ing which I HATE doing, as awful as it sounds, we always say to people that if they want to see us on Xmas Day, then  they can come to us, as our parents live at complete OPPOSITE ends of the city. We did it for a couple of years Pre-Will, and we weren’t getting in until late afternoon and we were having to please everyone else instead of pleasing ourselves. So we knocked that on the head, and Norms’ family just come and see us because that’s what they like to do.

As some of you may know, I found myself worrying and getting myself so stressed and anxious about Christmas. Would William enjoy it? Would he have enough presents from me and Norms? Will I get good pictures that I should share on social media? Will I need to buy him more presents? Should I of bought Norms more presents? Will the dinner be nice? Will Norms Grandma be out of hospital? “AM I GOING TO PLEASE EVERYBODY ON EARTH AND THERE WILL BE WORLD PEACE??”

I was driving myself crazy, not sleeping, seeing the Instagram stories of people buying their kids all these bloody gifts, several stockings full of presents, their partners expensive watches or designer clothes. And there was me, with a book shelf from eBay  and a stuffed toy duck for William, and a Body Shop gift set and a top from Sports Direct for Norms. I felt so inadequate, and I know, I know, it’s not about the money, but sometimes, let’s be honest, it is. You work all year, and want to spoil the people you love the most. And unfortunately (because 1. I don’t earn a great deal of money and 2. I am shit with money and don’t save up and buy kebabs with it instead. #real) But, the gifts that William received were fine, lets be honest, the kid is 2 years old and hasn’t got a clue about what day it is, I mean he didn’t give a toss about his Xmas dinner. Do you know what he had for his Xmas dinner? Tomato Soup. So festive. And Norms fully understands the circumstance I am in with the whole money situation, but he liked his gifts he received, and to be honest it was just nice to be able to spend some proper quality time together, as his hours are erratic with his job, so we rarely spend proper time together as a family, so just to be able to do that was lovely.

As usual, Christmas comes with a stereotypical family crisis. Norms’ Grandma has been unwell and was in hospital over the festive period so the family was a bit upset about that, and also there are some other things happening with his family at the moment, which I wont go into as it’s not for social media, but things were a bit fraught sometimes. Plus my mum was poorly over the festive period with that horrendous flu bug thing that makes you feel like you’ve got the Bubonic plague and are on death’s door, so we didn’t get chance to see as much family as we usually would over the festive period. But that’s just the way it goes sometimes. We just chilled out, spent time together as a 3, and that was lovely in itself.

I also spent a little less time on my phone over the Christmas season. It wasn’t so much a conscious decision, I just have realised that a lot of the time I have spare at home is often spent with my face in my phone on instagram, and not concentrating on the here and now, and I was missing out on family time, things that were perhaps happening and would maybe not happen again, all for the sake of what? A double tap and a funny 15 second video? Plus, because me and norms don’t see each other a great deal, when we are together I am aware that (as the majority of other couples probably do as well), most of our time is spent with our faces in our mobile devices, when we should be talking and interacting with each other. And to be honest, it was good to get back to basics.

Another thing which has happened recently is William’s speech. He is coming along SO MUCH at the moment. He can say a few little words, and I feel like now I can actually COMMUNICATE with him and he can communicate back to me, don’t get me wrong, there are still PLENTY of times when I just look at him in disbelief and think to myself “what the actual hell is he trying to tell me??”, but the difference just in the last few weeks has been amazing. And because he is speaking a little and can communicate with me, the temper tantrums are becoming gradually less, and I believe it’s because we I can understand him and what he wants and needs. His personality is now starting to come out too, and his nursery have even told me that he is coming out of his shell more and more, and is willing to get involved and play more, which for me as a mum makes me SO happy, knowing that he is going to be there for the day and not be feeling sad or upset or scared, he’s getting stuck in and making friends and it just makes my heart hurt with pride and love.  We also had a health visitor appointment just after the new year, I am going to write a blog post about how it went and how the whole lead up to it made me feel, it didn’t go as badly as I was expecting it to, and afterwards I felt relieved, one because it was over but two because she didn’t say she was concerned about him, so that was also a massive weight off my shoulders.

I have also been receiving a lot of positive feedback from my instagram account, which makes me really happy. I’m not going to lie, when I gain new followers it DOES make me nervous, because I feel like sometimes you are expected to keep up this massive “insta-prescence” , but in reality I am just a normal working mum who just does silly stupid shit on a social media app, and people seem to like it. I will be writing about how it makes me feel personally too, as I feel that it’s probably how many people who use social media probably feel too.

And that’s about it! Nothing exciting really, however I just thought I would check in with you guys and let you know I am still here,  I’m going to try and blog more, but do let me know what sort of stuff you would like to see, I am always open to suggestions and ready for a ramble (understatement on my part).

Baby, Food, Friends, General, Parenting

Christmas 2017 – what I found.

Thought I’d just do a little post about what I found during the Christmas time with a 1 year old and a few things I learnt and will hopefully remember for next time! 
Christmas as we all know is a time for joy, and giving, and family, however we all know it can quickly escalate and things can get out of hand financially, mentally and emotionally. So here I have compiled a list of the things I have found and learnt over the festive period. 

  1. You will have to start planning and saving the summer. Especially since having a child. Because sometimes you can get some really good bargains but also because everything is so bloody expensive. 
  2. Have a word with grand parents, friends, anyone who wants to buy the little ones gifts. Because you just KNOW that if you don’t, your child will end up with some all singing all dancing stuffed 8ft rhinoceros which you have nowhere to put and your child cries everytime they clap eyes on it. 
  3. Sometimes you have to put your foot down and just say no. Following on from the previous point, I completely understand that grandparents, aunties, Thelma from 5 doors down etc, want to spoilt your little bubba, however you can clash when it comes to presents. If you as their parents want to buy them x, y or z and they don’t like it because they bought it in the sale 2 weeks ago, but you’ve wanted to buy them it and bought it in July and have been soooo excited about giving it to them, then Sometimes, they just have to like it or lump it. You are always going to piss someone off. Might as well get it out of the way early. 
  4. YOU WILL ALWAYS PISS SOMEONE OFF. Whether it be hubby, mum, gran, mother in law (always me) etc etc. It’s a bit like your wedding day. You are never going to please everyone, whether it be presents, where you have your Turkey, who you have it with. Just do whatever makes you and your family happy.
  5. Don’t get too pissed. Self explanatory really.
  6. Be strict. At the end of the day, if people want to come round that’s cool, but if you had a plan and you want to stick to it, then make sure you Do! It’s your Christmas as much as everyone else’s, remember that.
  7. Eat loads. It’s a given really. If you haven’t put on at least a stone in December, have you even done Christmas properly? 
  8. Take some time to enjoy it. Sometimes we get too caught up with the decorations, the cooking, the present buying, the wrapping, the cards, the social gatherings, that we forget about what it’s actually all about – family and spending time with the ones you love. If you haven’t sent someone’s cousin twice removed from Dover a Christmas card, then don’t sweat it. You just might not get one next year from them. (HOWEVER WILL I LIVE.)
  9. Following on from the previous point, don’t worry about pleasing everyone. You will never do it. Just accept it, if people go in a piss with you then so be it. Pour another prosecco and worry about whether you remembered to take the giblets out of the turkeys arse. 
  10. Don’t get too caught up with what everyone else is doing on social media. INSTAGRAM IS NOT REAL LIFE. Real life is arguing about when the blue bin is going to get picked up because it’s overflowing with wrapping paper and cardboard boxes and empty bottles, what time you put the turkey in, did you know cousin Alice is now a vegan, have we got enough gravy, etc etc. It’s not all Jo Malone candles and unicorn prosecco. It’s what people want you to see. I guarantee that everyone is still having all the same tears and tantrums as you are on the big day. Besides, it’s not Christmas unless someone has an argument, right? 

These are just a few things, I could go on and on and on but you get my drift. Christmas a lot of the time gets consumed with the monetary value and the gestures and how big they are, and people forget what it’s actually all about. Saying that, of course you want to spend money on the ones you love, who doesn’t, but its hard not to sometimes feel inadequate or like your gifts are rubbish compared to what you see on Facebook or Instagram. Sometimes, the CD and bottle of Britney bitch perfume you got your mum looks a bit feeble next to someone who got their mum a weekend away at a spa in the Himalayan mountains where they only drink coconut water and eat vegan sushi. (Is that even a thing? I dunno.)  I can’t lie and say sometimes I didn’t  compare my Christmas and the lead up and the decorations etc to people’s I follow on Instagram. But then I remember it’s not real life. And we all go and take a shit, so we basically are all the same, coconut water or not.

Here’s some photographs of our Christmas day. As you can see, the joy is just pouring out of my son.

      Baby, General, Parenting


      Now I know that this is like…super bloody late but I thought I would write a little post about William turning one. (Baring in mind this was in October – we are now in January. Oh well).

      When William turned one I was SO SO SO emotional. I don’t want to sound like a cliché and a broken record, but there is just something about the realisation that you have had this little thing with you for a whole year, you find yourself looking back at photographs of them when they were 4 days old, still all pink and wrinkly, and there are selfies of you both curled up in the newborn haze.

      Then you turn over your shoulder, and see that said gorgeous little cherub standing at your kitchen cupboards, having opened a pack of spaghetti and chives, and has snot running down its nose into his mouth, and has trapped his fingers in a drawer. And your house resembles a car boot sale. But honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

      The time goes by so quickly, when you think about it really. William has always been a little “slower” shall we say at developing, for instance he didn’t roll over until he was 7 months old, and a lot of my other friends babies were already crawling around by then. And he didn’t start crawling until he was 11 months old. He is now 15 months old and he isn’t walking yet. Am I bothered? No, not really. Everyone is different. Just like for example, I enjoy the gherkin in a Maccies. Norms does not. And so on and so forth. (Love a gherkin me).

      Anyway, back to the BIRTHDAY. I of course wanted to do something for his birthday so we decided on having a little party round at ours with family and friends invited, and we just put on some nibbles and drinks etc. Its hard not to get carried away really, you of course want to create this lovely birthday party for your little one, but in all honesty, do they really know what the fuck is going on? No. Not a clue. The party itself is really for the grown ups and the children who are a little older. William slept for most of his party anyway- the same as he did for his christening party and also Christmas. To be honest, you cant beat a good nap lets all be clear.

      And of course you always want to decorate and put some Insta-worthy snaps online and show everyone how much of an amazing hostess you can be and how much fun you all had. Which, to be honest, I’m not arty or decorative in the slightest, I have about as much creative flair as a brick. But I tried. And, to be honest, I was quite pleased with how cute things looked in our small little house.

      The thing which was giving me anxiety for weeks leading up to Williams birthday wasn’t the party. It was the idea of presents. Oh my god. What is it with grandparents and presents? People just go mad, and as I’ve said before I’ve always had a little bit of a struggle with my mother in law as she does get carried away, so I had to lay some ground rules down a couple of  months in advance, because I don’t want my house to look like the warehouse of Toys R Us, and also because he is still so small and he doesn’t have a clue what presents are, why he’s receiving them and to be quite honest, he’d rather play with a packet of baby wipes.

      Of course, my request was met with a sense of frostiness, I always seem to come across as the bad one, but I stuck to my guns and I’m glad I did, William got some lovely presents but people did thankfully listen and we weren’t too inundated with plastic beeping, squeaking, flashing up shite.

      So I thought I’d do a quick post on his birthday, as I realised I hadn’t done one, and add some photos as again I realised I hadn’t really put any of those up either! (Honestly baby brain is still in full force. I think this is just my brain now. Perhaps I pushed some out when I pushed William out..)

      The Garlands are from Hobbycraft, as is the holographic “Happy Birthday” sign. The Photograph bunting was from ebay, as were the plastic cone bags and the “Thank you” stickers. One thing which was a big factor for us was of course price. I did order some other lovely balloons but unfortunately they didn’t arrive in time so I went to Card factory (got to love that shop) and got some generic “1 today” balloons which did just as well as some ones with sparkly foil on. I hate balloons anyway (UGH) so to me it didn’t matter whether we had them or not. Everything was less than a fiver to buy, which meant I wasn’t spending loads on stuff that would only essentially get thrown in the bin. I work 19 hours a week and get paid pittance, so I am not about that spending money on frivolous shit kind of life.

      I also wanted a chalk board (how original I know) but I wanted to make one myself, because some of them are SO EXPENSIVE and then once the day is done, that’s it, without being awful, you are stuck with this board that you can never use again, and wont want to as it cost you nearly twenty quid in the first place! Now, granted, they look amazing and make for a lovely centrepiece on your table, but I wanted to be able to re-use the bloody thing, and also say to people”Yeah, I did that”. So, like I said earlier, I am NOT arty or creative, but I was pleased with the result, and I am looking forward to being able to do this every year, well until he is old enough to say “muuuuuummmm that’s so EMBARASSING – STOP IT!!” The chalk board was also from Hobbycraft and the pens were from a stationary shop just in my town centre – however they are fucking expensive!

      Thanks for reading! I promise I won’t leave it as long next time!


      Baby, Parenting, Parenting

      Shower of Shit

      So I thought I would just write a little post, also to have a little rant as much as anything.

      I’ve never been one of those women who brags about how amazing her child is at sleeping through, or how much of a good eater they are, or so on and so forth. Yes, I am known to blow my own trumpet if I feel I have cracked something particularly difficult with regards to William, I think anyone else would be the same, parenting is bloody hard work.

      I am also partial to be a bit of a moaning Myrtle. You can often find me on Instagram stories giving it big licks about some ridiculous thing William has done now, or how he’s refusing to eat his lunch, blah blah blah.

      But I feel like I just need to let off some steam. I have always said I would be completely honest on this blog, and so here it goes.

      I’m bloody struggling at the moment.

      William is 1 in a week (exactly). Since I have started working again and he has started at his nursery, his sleep has really suffered. Now, granted he has been quite a good sleeper, he generally sleeps the majority of the night with maybe a couple of whinges or whines or us needing to go in and change him (seriously this kid pisses for England). But he has generally been ok.

      Up until now. He is waking several times in the night, for seemingly nothing. He is standing in his cot, screaming blue bloody murder. I change him, cuddle him, offer him a drink of water, give him a dummy (he has a habit of throwing them out of his cot), give him any medicine if I feel he needs it for teething, and he seems to settle when we are having a cuddle. Then I put him in his cot and it all begins again. Last night he cried from around 12.45am until gone 3am. I even brought him into my bed, thinking he would settle because he was close to me. It didn’t work. I was crying, he was crying, I’m surprised we didn’t both drown the amount of tears that were being shed. Cry me a River springs to mind. The only thing that settled him in the end was milk. Now I know this may sound harsh, however I am not in the habit of giving him milk in the night, I (personally) don’t feel he needs it, he has 1 bottle a day and that suits him just fine. But last night I was at the end of my tether and just wanted to sleep.

      It’s not the first time he’s been inconsolable. He was like it 2 days ago, and also a couple of times last week. Now I’m not stupid and didn’t come down with yesterday’s shower of rain, I know that babies wake through the night, however it was just so out of character for him. And it’s heartbreaking when you can’t help them, and they can’t tell you what the matter is.

      But also it’s mega bloody frustrating. I’ve found myself recently being victim to the old witch that is “mum guilt” about William going to nursery, as he wasn’t great the first day I sent him (I promise I’ll do a post about this as soon as I pull my head out of my arse) and how it may have affected his sleep.

      I’ve also been finding it difficult as Norms has been working away a lot, so I’ve been dealing with these instances on my lonesome. Everything I seem to do for William seems to be wrong. I can’t seem to soothe him. He gets frustrated at me because he can’t tell me what he wants, and I don’t know what it is that he wants half the time.

      Why don’t I know what he wants? Why can’t I be like these “Instamums” who seem to have their shit together? Why can’t I have a husband who comes home at 6pm and takes over from me, and lets me have a bath and wash my hair and moisturise, rather than me having to get a shower whilst yelling “don’t touch that!” “William where are you?” “Don’t pull the shower curtain!” And get out having only shaved one leg? Why does William keep waking in the night? Why can’t I soothe him, he’s my baby, surely I should know what is the matter with him? Why doesn’t he let me sleep? Why won’t he eat his lunch? Why does he not laugh for me as he does for Norms, when Norms doesn’t soothe him or feed him or comfort him for 80% of the week?

      I find myself going round and round in circles, making myself upset, thinking I’m not good enough,I’m a shitty mum, William doesn’t like me, everyone judges me for being a shit mum, I’m not finding it easy therefore I can’t be a natural.. and today has been one of those days. I know that I’m not on my own, and I really must just say thank you to everyone who takes the time to message me when they have watched my Instagram stories (where 98% of the time I look like a bog rat in a Next dressing gown) and have given me advice or just sent some kind words. I really do appreciate it and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

      It’s hard not to beat yourself up about it I guess. And I suppose it makes us all normal. I just needed to have a bit of a babble and let off some steam. I’m sure it’s just a phase and once the teeth pop their little selves through and we get into more of a routine with nursery and work etc, that it will all fall into place.

      And if not? Well then we’re fucked.

      Baby, General, Parenting

      10 months..

      I haven’t written a post in a very long time.  I’ve just been LIVING. Lots of ups and downs as ever.

      It’s been a funny old time. William will be 10 months old in two days. TEN. MONTHS. 

      THAT’S 2 MONTHS AWAY FROM 12. Bloody hell. I just can’t believe where the time has gone to.

      So I just thought I’d do a little bit of an update post, I’ve had a few people ask me when I’m doing another post, and to be honest I have missed writing, but I’ve been finding it hard to find the time to even wipe my make up off at night, let alone write a hilarious yet honest blog post.

      I’m not going to lie, these past couple of months have been a bit testing. Me and norms are up and down, we bicker endlessly about the mundane boring stuff, why the bottles still smell like moudly cat milk, why the washing hasn’t been done, why is there a half eaten crumpet on the floor, etc etc. But then we have wonderful times and we make each other laugh all day and are affectionate and it melts all the crappy parts away. 

      William has been getting on great, he is eating more and more “human food” as I call it, we are still careful and cautious but I find myself becoming much more relaxed the more he eats and tries. I will admit though like, it’s hard when you see all these bloody women on Instagram whose babies are a little bit older or a little bit younger than yours, and they are having fish goujons and peas and sweet potato croquettes MADE FROM SCRATCH, or homemade chicken curry and oragnic vegetable rice, with a homemade bloody fruit crumble and all washed down with water which they will drink from ANY CUP – I look at the lumpy cow and gate jar I have in the bowl, and wrestle with Williams 7 millionth beaker I’ve tried to get him to even wet his fucking lips let alone drink any of the bastard stuff, and still feel disheartened. But then I think a lot of what is posted on Instagram is just a whole load of tosh.  I really do. I can’t believe for ONE BLOODY MINUTE that these people’s lives are as perfect as they want you to believe it is. So I just scroll on past, giving William his jarred food and water through an intravenous drip (I don’t do this – just to clarify. Please don’t ring social services.) Also, he is so so close to crawling! He can go backwards, turn himself fully around, and pull himself to wherever he wants to be, and he rolls around like a fish on a slab. It will be any day now. Then I’m sure the REAL fun will begin. 

      I think a lightbulb has gone off in my head. I used to be so consumed that my life wasn’t as perfect as other people’s. But at the end of the day, I spend all day with my son, at the weekend me and my husband are with our family and friends, and I don’t feel the need to promote it or share every detail on social media, because I am too busy LIVING AND ENJOYING the moments. I’m sure nobody wants to see a picture of me having a “lie in” until 8am, because norms has gone to give William his brekkie, or a photo of my hairy fat legs having a shower in peace with no baby whining because he’s not surgically attached to my hip/arm/leg/other body part. I do enough Instagram stories with no make up on looking haggard and like a bog rat that I do not need to put any more of that shit put there. Instagram stories are deleted after 24 hours THANK GOD.

      Another thing which has been consuming a lot of my time, is thinking about returning to work. I will be returning 1 day a week from September to do keep in touch days, and I can’t believe I return to work for 2 and a half days in October! I know I’m lucky as I am fully aware that some women have to return full time, I mean don’t get me wrong the money is definitely needed from a full time wage, but I (in my own opinion please don’t shoot me down) don’t see the point of having this baby, going through the slog of being pregnant and going through labour, having all this time off work to bond and spend with the little minion, to then go back to work 5 days a week. I mean, the thought of going back to work for 2.5 days a week fills me with dread, so I can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel to have to go back fill time. But everyone has their own rhymes and reasons for doing what they do. And that’s everyone’s own prerogative. I just don’t see the point of having a child and not being there to bring them up. Of course I also understand that some employers are not as happy to let people go back and cut their hours, but that’s something I thankfully haven’t had to deal with. (Sidenote- if anyone reading this DOES have these issues please go and follow the amazing Anna @mother_pukka on Instagram she’s ALL ABOUT THE flexible working for parents. And she is HILARIOUS). 

      So Yes, this has been keeping me awake at night. But I am slowly coming round to the idea. At the end of the day, it’s going to happen, my anxiety needs to get off my case and I need to pull up my big girls pants (yep still wearing the preggo hospital pants- what can I say comfort overruled the lacy thong) and go get on with it. 

      But I have Williams nursery all sorted, he will be going one day a week, and my mum and mother in law will be having him for the other days. I think this was a big factor about my anxiety. Me and my mother in law have had a rocky relationship since the little one was born. Well, it started when I was up the duff. I won’t go into details, all I will say is that we go about things in a VERY VERY different way, and it all came to a head when we went to check out the new nursery. Words were said, tears were shed. Eyebrows were raised. I think the saying “truth hurts” was the most useful turn of phrase for the chat we had. However, now all is out in the open, and things have been AMAZINGLY better. Anxiety is still there, don’t get me wrong, but I find myself being a lot more relaxed in her company, and feeling more relaxed about the thought of the little one going and spending such a lot of time with her. I am fully aware that to some people I must sound like a crazed lunatic but hey, variety is the spice of life, and my life is certainly not just vanilla. Although I DO love vanilla. 

      Another big thing going on is that we are currently selling our house. I’ll do a proper post when things start moving, but basically we have a house ready and waiting to be moved into (yay!) The only thing is, we obviously need to sell ours first. It’s been on the market for a month or so now, we are hoping to sell it sooner rather than later as we are itching to get things moving with the new one! I’ve been looking at so many house inspiration websites and pages, I’ve got a feeling we may need a cheeky lottery win to happen soon! It will be really nice to do a house up together, the house we are in at the moment was bought by norms when he was single, and it isn’t really decorated to my taste, don’t get me wrong it’s not horrible, it’s just not all that cosy. And I think as women as much as we like things to look all lovely and neat and tidy (mega lolz at this with a child – who am I kidding?!) We really just want it to be cosy and homely.  

      So that, in a nutshell is what I’ve been doing these past couple of months! I feel like I may do more posts like this, as I just can’t commit at the moment to doing a post every week or every couple of weeks, so maybe a monthly update post – unless there is something that has really got on my tits and I need to speak about it – but then you’d know about it im sure. 

      Thanks for reading

      T x

      Baby, Personal

      My Anxiety 

      I thought I’d do this blog post, mainly as a bit of a rant and to let off steam, but also to perhaps help other people, and to see if anyone else out there feels the same as me. And also because it’s been Mental Health Awareness Week recently, it’s made me think about mine.

      I’ve always been a bit of a worrier. Like, I am that person who is always procastinating on what “what if’s” of life, or worrying about things that might go wrong or might happen. But when I was pregnant I seemed to be a lot more calmer. Maybe it was because literally you cannot control what is happening to your body, and you cannot (unless of course you have a planned c-section) control or do anything about when you are going to have your baby.  So I just sort of chilled out. (Until I was in labour. And then I was most certainly NOT chilled out.)

      When William was born the overwhelming maternal instinct and need to care for him really took me by surprise. I’ve never been the most maternal person, but it hit me like a sledgehammer. I was so in love with this little baby, and I felt so so protective of him. Which I imagine is every mother’s instinct and feelings towards their children.

      But with that came more worry. And paranoia. I was fine at first. People would come over to see us and meet the baby, and they would hold him and it was lovely and we’d also sit and have a cup of tea and chat about the Labour and how cute he was etc etc. But when it became most days, and people weren’t actually coming to see me, they were coming just to see my baby, and as soon as they arrived they were straight to his crib or trying to pick him up, I started to feel anxious.

      As all new mums know, trying to get into a routine is so hard with a newborn. Your lives are all over the place, your grabbing hard, cold pieces of toast whenever possible, juggling housework and trying to keep your personal hygiene on a somewhat acceptable level, and also having to deal with visitors and friends and family members not wanting to leave you alone. And​  even when they weren’t “just passing so we thought we’d pop in” (yeah ok then) they were texting or ringing you every few hours; “Hows William doing?” “How was last night with William?” “Do you need anything?” “We text you a couple of hours ago and you haven’t replied is everything ok?” “Just tried ringing you and there was no answer are you sure you’re ok?” “We’ve just been knocking at the door and there was no response we are worried” “can we come back and see you at tea time?” Etc etc. Sometimes you don’t want to answer the texts and calls because you’re either elbow deep in korma crap or cleaning up puke or just HAVING A NAP​.

      Now I know some people reading this love all that sort of thing all the attention and the fuss, and are probably thinking that I’m being a right negative Nancy, or being ungrateful. I’m not. I’m just wanting to spend some time alone with my new baby, catch up on sleep, perhaps watch an episode of Corrie while he sleeps IN PEACE. Looking like a goblin from another world in my 7 day old sick stained PJ’S and not having to entertain anyone but myself. 

      So dealing with all that, and having unwanted advice thrown at you left right and centre, and people coming and disrupting you, plus the sleep deprivation and the fact my husband works away, it made me feel a little on edge if I’m honest. I used to love this little bubble me and William had, just me and him, and I felt like other people would ruin it.

      I’m not going to lie, i still feel like it now. When my mother in law used to hold William it used to make me feel sick to my stomach. Even my mum or my step dad. I’d be holding him and people would say “oh, can I have a hold?”, Or Norms would ask his mum if she wanted to have a cuddle with him, and I could literally feel the dread and fear and bitterness bubbling up inside me. It used to give me goosebumps. So I’d hand him over, without really wanting to, and I’d be fighting back the tears, trying to keep my shit together and not lose my rag and snatch him back and run out of the door to the safety of our own house where no one else was apart from us three.

      I was jealous of other people holding my own baby. Jealous, even though I spend more or less 24 hours a day, 7 days a week with him. I was scared that they wouldn’t hold him right, or that they would hurt him. I felt angry that they wanted to hold him, to love him, because he was my baby. Not theirs. Mine. 

      It got so bad, that when other people held him I’d get myself that’s het up about it I’d have to leave the room. I was concerned that the way they were doing things wasn’t the right way, because it may have been different to my way. And of course, my way is always right. Or in my head, it is.

      I’m going to be honest, I’m better now, well, not as much as I’d like to be but I am getting there. There are a few instances where I’ve lost my shit and got myself in such a state because say, my sister in law has held William, and taken him for a little walk around the house, and I can’t see him and it freaks me out. But I’m sure I’ll get better with it as time goes on. I need to.

      It may sound ridiculous to some people, and some people totally won’t get it, and may let their baby’s stay out at a weekend and enjoy the time away from them, or some people may be reading this thinking I’m a complete nut job, or somebody might be reading this and thinking “oh, thank GOD it’s not just me”. It’s a silent battle I have to have with myself. I never ever thought I’d be one of these paranoid mums, but hey, here I am. But it’s coming from a good place, a place where the love is overwhelming and unconditional and sometimes painful, the amount that you love them.

      I’ve even left him three times, one night with my mum while we went for a meal with friends, one afternoon also with mum when we went out for drinks and lunch, and also with my mother in law while we had drinks again one afternoon. Each of those times has been really hard for me to do, and I’m not going to lie in the lead up to the event, I’ve been awake in the night, worrying if he is going to be okay, worrying if I should be leaving him, etc etc . And when I have left him, there have been a few tears. All mine. He doesn’t realise I’ve gone half the time I think.

      Of course I know I need to leave him with people more. I feel ridiculous that I don’t, and if I did I would probably feel a whole lot better about things as I would have time to be  me, rather than just mummy. Plus I know that he needs to learn to be comfortable around other people. When I go back to work, I’m going to have to suck it up. Its going to happen. I just feel like I really have to take it one step at a time. I feel silly, and embarrassed​, i mean, i come across as this over confident, bolshy, loud mouthed woman, who seems to have it all planned out, yet in reality, i am actually so weak. And I’m sure other people will agree. And maybe some people will be wondering why I haven’t just gone to the doctors, got some happy pills and got the fuck on with it. 

      Ok, so maybe I have got a little bit of post natal depression, who knows, but I don’t necessarily want to just go get some pills and forget about it. I talk to my friends, talk to my family, talk to my husband, they understand I find it difficult, and they are there with me 100% . They might be frustrated, I know sure as hell my mum and mother in law are itching to have William more, but they also probably see me, a new mother, and understand it’s each to their own, and understand that everybody is different and everybody does things at their own pace. And for that I thank them, and my friends, keeping my head from spinning off when I feel like I’m not in control. And also i thank my husband for putting up with my little panics, my endless crying, when I know he wants to spend more time as a couple with me, yet I am so consumed with being a mother and being afraid to let William go, I know it must be frustrating for him. Especially if you take into account the sex evacuation I was speaking about in my earlier post . The poor bastard. 

      People may also be reading this and feel the same as me. And if anyone is, then please don’t feel alone. Speak to someone. It does help. And don’t think that your stupid, be embarrassed or struggle on your own. Anxiety is real, it happens, and it doesn’t show that you aren’t coping.

      It shows you care. It shows you are being a mother. 

      Baby, Food, General, Parenting

      The Choke.

      Ok, so I said in my last blog post that I would write about weaning, and I will, but first I wanted to get this “experience” out the way, as it’s quite shit and it put a proper downer on things, brought out the old friend MUM GUILT again and I’ve found it quite hard to move on from, as it was really scary and I dread to think about what would of happened if circumstances were different within that split second. 

      So, as you may or may not know, my boy William is a hungry lad. We started putting baby rice in his milk from about 10 weeks old as he was just NOT FULL after having 9oz bottles. A lovely friend Emma gave me some fab advice as she has a similar hungry little boy and after speaking with her, and looking into it a bit I decided to give it a go. Shortly after this I started weaning slowly. When he was about 16 weeks, on my health visitors advice. 

      When I say weaning, I mean offering him a taste of a fruit of vegetable puree at tea time. I was adamant I was going to be this super-mum and puree all my own food and he was only going to have organic and it would be loads cheaper and he was not going to have jars of baby food, and all the rest of it blah blah blah. 

      Well, it all started off so well, I did a small variety of fruits and vegetables; mango, apple, pear, banana, sweet potato, butternut squash, that sort of thing. I spent one (long) afternoon doing it all and blending it all up in this blender hubby once got me for my Christmas present (don’t ask, you can imagine my reaction on Christmas morning when I open this present to see a Kenwood fucking blender there on my bed surrounded my soap and glory gift sets and frigging lindt chocolate reindeers), and had them all in little ice cube trays in the freezer ready for each day. 

      So, as time went on and William was enjoying more and more food, I thought I’d mix it up and do some broccoli puree for him. So I did the whole boiling to a pulp, making the house smell of fart and death (what is it with green vegetables they REEK) and froze them all ready. I used one the next day. I used to get excited to see what flavours he would Like, and also felt proud that he was having food I has made for him. 

      I sat him in his little Mamas and Papas bumbo seat thing and bless his heart he sat there patiently waiting for me to defrost this green slop in the microwave, and he had a couple of spoonfuls of it. He seemed to enjoy it! I was buzzing, I felt like superwoman as he had tried and liked all my homemade purees. I was at one with nature. I was at one with my child. I felt like Yoko Ono. 

      However. I think it must of been the 4th spoonful, he started to gag a little. I know that this is all part of the learning experience for them and they have to learn how to gag and bring up any food, so I let him cough and splutter a little bit, gave him a little pat on the back to help him alone and get it up. 

      But he didn’t manage to get it up. He coughed a little bit, and made gagging noises and actions, but nothing came up. Then he kind of…froze. it was literally the scariest moment of my life. He went really still, sort of leant forward in his seat, and his mouth was open. His eyes were staring, wide open, at nothing, and he wasn’t really blinking. There was no sound from him. He looked like he was struggling to breathe. 

      He was choking.

      Even writing this now makes me feel sick to my stomach . literally makes my stomach churn. The memory is so strong. For that split second I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do. Then all of a sudden, I dunno, instinct I guess kicked in. I screamed “William!” Threw the little play tray off his seat, grabbed him and just kept saying his name over and over. He was really stiff, like he was tense. I put him upside down, my hand on his chest, near his neck, and quite literally, smacked his back like fuck. Like, so so hard. I think I did that three times and he finally coughed and started wretching and gagging, and some spit came out, and he started crying. I flipped him over and sat down, and had a look in his throat and mouth. There was nothing there. He was proper crying his eyes out, I must of really hurt him. But he was crying. He was safe. He was alive. 

      We sat on that chair and cried together for a good 10 minutes. I just kept hugging and kissing him, asking him if he was Ok (fuck knows why, I’ve just slapped the fuck out of him and he at the time was about 20 weeks old, it’s not like he could answer is it?!), I looked for the piece of broccoli that he had choked on but I couldn’t find it. It must of been so so small. Or, maybe the puree was still a little cold from being defrosted? And he was storing it in his mouth rather than swallowing the small spoons I was giving him? Who knows. I mean, I have always been very cautious with what I give and do give William. I’ve never loaded the spoon up with a shit load of puree, or left him unattended whilst weaning. And he seemed to be really enjoying the flavour and the taste, and I believed that the puree was smooth. Obviously for him at that time of weaning it wasn’t. 

      Afterwards I threw the bowl of puree in the bin, and I started to feel really shocked and shaky, I was shivering and was feeling so bad and guilty. I believed it was my fault William had choked on this broccoli. I rang hubby crying my eyes out, i felt so bad, how could I of done that to our baby? 

      The rest of that night went the same as usual, we had a play, I was a little (ok a lot) more cautious with William, when we had a bath I sat there staring at him crying, apologising for weaning him, apologising for hurting his back, apologising for being a rubbish mum. When he fell asleep in my arms that night I didn’t want to put him in his cot, I was petrified something would happen to him, what if he choked again while I was asleep? (Just for the record I have always had a phobia of this, as he was a very sicky new born baby and would often be sick in his sleep when he was laid flat, I used to sit up awake all night at first, just watching him sleep to make sure he didn’t choke on his own sick. I completely understand I sound like a lunatic. That’s just me, I worry and overthink every possible little detail or possible outcome. I’m always the one who says “yeah but what if…”) I think that night i maybe had about 1.5 hours sleep. Not just from the worry and watching the monitor endlessly all night. But also because every single time I closed my eyes all I could see was his little face , his eyes wide with fear, and it made me shudder and jump out of my skin. I still see it now sometimes. Thinking about it makes me feel cold. Writing this, it upsets me.

      Now some people (if anyone is still reading) may be thinking that I’m over exaggerating, or just think I should get over it, and yeah, you’re probably right. But I you can honestly say, it is exactly how I described it. Afterwards I didn’t give William any puree for I think it was 5 days. Norms had to sit with me when I finally plucked up the courage to do it, and i was literally sweating and shaking the whole way through. He even had to tell me to stop and calm down at one point because the spoon was shaking so much from me being frightened it was going to happen again, that I kept getting it all over Williams face. 

      I know now that it wasn’t my fault, and it was just one of those things. Babies have to learn, and in this instance he just didn’t have the knowledge and didn’t know what to do, or whether the puree was too cold or whatever, but the fact is, it happened. I have been very cautious (even more so than I already was), with what I give William, I analyse how lumpy or smooth something is, and I now don’t trust my own purees. So since this incident I have just weaned on shop bought baby food.  Because I honestly don’t trust what I have made for him. Which is silly really, because he was doing absolutely fine before and didn’t have a problem with any of the others I’d made for him. But the thought was in my head. I had mum guilt and self doubt. And one thing I have learnt since becoming a mum is, even if your not sure , you have to just suck it up and go for whatever decision you’ve made with pure confidence, and with this I had gone from being quite confident and enjoying weaning, to having zero confidence and not trusting myself, and dreading mealtimes.

      Another thing that it has made me think is that I would love to do a first aid course for babies/children. I am going to look it up for my area, as it just shows that you really don’t know what is going to happen, and I am one of those people who like to be prepared for every eventuality, no matter how good or bad (but of course you all known this as you’ve seen the endless amount of shite I carry about on the daily). So if anyone in the Hull area wants to come on a first aid course let me know! 

      Of course, William was fine the next day and was his usual happy self, as if nothing had ever happened. And he is loving trying all the new foods again, I am slowly building my confidence back up with the whole weaning thing. I do still over analyse every thing I give him and I sometimes panic the whole 45 minutes of a meal time, but I think as time goes on it will eventually all just be a distant awful memory. 

      As for being an earth mum and doing all my own purees, I have one thing to say about that. 

      FUCK. THAT. Let’s be honest. I don’t know who I thought I was, Mary fucking Berry, making all these purees, half the time it goes up his nose or on the wall. I might as well just buy the bloody stuff then when he doesn’t eat it for whatever reason, I can’t be offended. But fair play to those who do make all their own food, i take my hat off to you all!

      Besides, I don’t buy organic fucking sweet potatoes or bananas. I buy the cheapest. 

      I’m going straight to earth mum hell.