Tag Archives: mumlife

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The New Normal- Covid19 Blog

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Party Time?

Now the “unlocking of lockdown” has begun (thanks Kyrie!) we should all be feeling elated? But for some reason, it feels like a massive anti- climax. Previously I had been thinking and asking people… “what’s the first thing that you are going to do when lockdown is over?”. I imagined everyone coming out into the streets and cheering, hugging each other, maybe even licking each other. There would be fireworks, maybe even a trumpet, but most definitely glow sticks. Then the next day I would eagerly hand over my kids to grandparents as we jet set off for some *wild weekend away.…But it’s not been like that at all. Its not be like a massive party with fanfares and celebrations. It’s been a very gradual, diluted affair.  For me I feel like I’m slowly and very timidly dipping my toes back into reality and life again, but feeling guilty and scared by doing so?

*full night’s sleep, a tidy house and bath without toy frog going up bum.

What Are The Rules? Anyone?

I’m also feeling rather confused?! Like when you accidently try to make a phone call with your TV remote or spray air freshener in the garden? Just me? I think my confusion is partially down to not really watching the news anymore (kids next level crazy atm and can’t do anything remotely adult). Lockdown was lockdown, you stayed in, didn’t do ANYTHING. Simple. Almost easier? But now, we aren’t back to normal as we knew it, but we aren’t in full lockdown. Just in some weird world in-between universe. Its feels sort of “normal” but then not normal at all??? Maybe this is why I went out in odd flip flops the other day.

Routine

It doesn’t stick around long enough to get used to it??? For me…..husband away, me solo parenting; everyone on lockdown 24/7; me working, husband looking after kids 2 days a week (bliss); furloughed; 5 year old at school, husband back at work full time; soon me to be back at work, kids summer holiday……I used to look after both boys by myself all the time but must admit these last 3 weeks have been HARD getting used to that again!!!! Out-of-practice.

The End Of A Horror Movie?

It’s scary. When were in the midst of it, it was a novelty. Everyone was in it together. But I think now the reality of what this crazy pandemic has left us with is starting to hit. The uncertainty, the re-building, the new etiquette, the furious anti-bacing, the job losses, the one-way systems, the queuing, the deserted shops, the loss of human touch/ face to face interaction, the unruly lockdown hair. The life as we knew it has gone. Honestly, the only thing I can liken it too is some sort of film where the actors have to hide underground from some kind of apocalypse. Then once it’s over, they reimage to discover what’s left of the world. Obvs not as dramatic but I definitely have a “28 days later” feel recently.

School

I have not really talked about the school thing on here because I was worried of being judged. Not sure why really but maybe because I wasn’t sure myself and questioned the decision to send my 5-year-old son back to school. I must admit, when BJ first announced that reception kids could go back, my husband and I jumped off the sofa cheering and high fiving!! But then it sunk it. It wasn’t going to be the same for my son. I was so sad for him and worried if he would be ok with it. So many emotions and thoughts like most parents must have had. Won’t bore you with our reasons (could do a whole other blog post on this!) but we stuck to our original decision, we did what we felt was right for HIM. And we struck gold, honestly. And I can’t tell you what a joy it is to retire as his teacher. I once had an inkling to be a teacher. That is now gone.

Questions. So many questions.

Is this it then? The new normal? Are things ever going to be like they were before? Or is there always going to be this massive elephant in the room. Am I always going to have to queue up to get some peanut M&Ms from Tesco’s 2 meters apart?! Is anyone ever going to be able to cough in public again without getting death stares? Drink Corona beer without making a corona related joke? Walking backwards down the one-way-system in a shop to make it ok (anyone else do this?), open air hugs, workout without a child using you as a Stegasaurus, hold breath when go passed people, feel guilty for enjoying yourself, feel like it’s just going to happen again and the urge to buy that extra pack of loo roll????!!!

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Mountain Biking

Was loving (and still am) appreciating the simple things in life (the sound of the birds, the greenness of the trees, the smell of the flowers etc), but It was when I said to my husband the other day with earnest in my eyes and genuine excitement in my voice “oh, I think I might be able to fit another wash load on here”, I realised I seriously needed to start getting “back out there”. I needed to get some of ME back.

Introducing Mountain Biking!

My dad (age 73) is like this crazy downhill, off-road mountain biker. Honestly, he’s gnarly. He has been trying to get me into it for years, but it really had zero appeal to me. He kept saying I would love it, it was just like snowboarding, but I couldn’t see it. But when him and my mum were both poorly with suspected Covid19, it really put things into perspective. Having not had a bike since I was maybe 10, I have really had to start at the beginning. I mean, I didn’t even know what the different gears were for or that you actually had 2x breaks! Also had to go for a specialist “undercarriage” saddle fit as clearly birthing 2 boys has broken me.

I’ve been 6 times now and I am LOVING it!!! And IT IS just like snowboarding, picking lines, carving, trying to “ollie” your bike. I look like a complete kook in my gear and my lack of skills, but I actually don’t care. Gives me that “oh my god I’m going to die” adrenaline rush I love. I’m weird. It has become a family affair now, bikes all round.

I have also spent more time drinking gin with my mum on park benches! Life’s about balance!

Felt Mobiles

Quite contradictorily to my adrenaline seeking extreme sport type things, I really enjoy sewing (*cough granny). I have finally got around to semi putting into production my range of Felt Mobiles. It’s something I can do whilst watching TV/ sunbathing/ socialising. Keep trying to do it with my kids there but have 100% confirmed that this isn’t as feasible (my youngest dismantled the felt unicorn and rubbed the unicorn’s horn around his ball bag……don’t worry Millie, I made another!). Working on some more designs over the summer. Had a brainwave for the name…..Mega Felts. See what I did there?!

Life Is Going To Be Better

However, I think this whole thing could do some good changes to our world for the better? We are going to be even more super polite queuing and being very British and polite AND hopefully be healthier and get less bugs over winter as we are all going to be cleaner! I’m also going to save money on perfume as people can’t get close enough to smell it, AND I can eat garlic and onion with no concerns people also won’t be close enough to smell the effects of that. I have also learnt how to make semi edible cheese straws during this time.

 

 

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Potty Training Perils

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The Lost Nugget
For days and days you can smell shit in the house. You’ve looked everywhere, followed your nose, but to no avail. You just KNOW a nugget of poo has slipped through the net somewhere along the line. Days, maybe even weeks later, you find said nugget of shit. It’s now hard, almost like a little bullet, crusty, with a layer of dust on top. You will never know how/ why it ended up where you found it (in the toy kitchen, was he trying to cook with it??), but at least you can sleep at night now knowing that the little brown bugger has been disposed of.

The Pink Eye
Shit induced conjunctivitis is a real thing. Whilst receiving some beautiful engagement news over Skype, your “potty trainee” has shat on the landing (not unusual). He has then proceeded to smear poo on the head/ side of face/ into eye of your poor helpless baby. Your baby however is just glad of the attention……until the next morning he realises that he has fallen victim to Pink Eye.

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The Brown Eye
At the start of the Potty Training Camp 2018, it’s best to just go balls out at home: face the training head on in your birthday suit (NB: trainee not trainer). This often means the postman might catch a glimpse of the “brown eye” pressed up against the window as he delivers his letters. Unsuspecting guests might find themselves looking head-on, straight into brown eye itself whilst the trainee bends over to pick up a one-legged robot off the floor. As a potty trainer leader, you will become quite familiar with the brown eye, often at close proximity.

The Plan Canceller
When potty training strikes, you have to go with it. Often sacrificing the best laid plans. As far-fetched as it might sound ” We can’t come to the park this morning as my trainee hasn’t had his morning shit”….or “sorry we have to cancel the dentist appointment as we can subject ourselves to a shit in the car…….”, are totally legitimate excuses to use. Who knew!

The Dog Whisperer
Behold, yet another shit on the carpet. As you hot-foot it into the kitchen to gather the required shit-cleaning-equipment, the dog has hot-footed it into the living room, seizing an opportunity. As you re-enter the scene of the crime, the turd is nowhere to be seen. But the white fluffy dog is looking most pleased, satisfyingly licking her (brown) lips. One can only speculate what happened.

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The Utensil User
Once they get the idea that they have to do their business into something, you must be careful of open containers/ crevices / spaces/ holes/ boxes/ cupboards etc…….Stickers MUST still be rewarded for wees in kitchen saucepans that are then covered with the correct sized lids.

The Squirter
I tell you, those little hose pipes can project a long way. Devastating for anything/ anyone that gets in its path. Even in the safe confines of your living room, there are still casualties. As quickly as you try to grab that little snake and wrestle it to the toilet, the force of the yellow liquid can still squirt through your clasped fingers and soak a poor unsuspecting train set (this time……)
NB: different for girl trainees

The Improviser
You are still in the dark beginning stages of potty training but starting to see some light. You want to leave the house (which is covered in shit) and re-enter the outside world. But you aren’t quite ready to do this with no nappy. You almost need a half-way-nappy? Inspired by some old potty training pads a friend once gave you, you decide to make excellent use if those sanitary towels in the back of the cupboard. The maxi ones, with wings. Hey presto. They give you confidence, and the potty trainee confidence. Not to mention that “fresh feeling for up to 8 hours”.

The Go-Cart
The potty trainee has finally got the hang of it (hurrah!!). So much so they have taken themselves for a shit on the potty ALL BY THEMSELVES. But why oh why is there brown skid marks in a north-easterly direction all over your beige carpet?? Unbeknown to you, whilst you were momentarily distracted (Instagram), your potty trainee has dragged their bottom along the carpet, legs out to the side for full bottom-carpet contact, to clean off the residue of the solo potty turd. You can only liken this movement to that of a go-cart/ dog with worms.

The Public Shitter
This could be in a shop/ restaurant/ al-fresco….but when you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go. And that poo comes FAST. Thank god you take the potty everywhere you go. But it does however mean the public cheering of potty poo “well done, clever boy, big poo etc” , and loud trainee interpretations ” mummy I’ve made a snail”, can be marginally embarrassing. Then what on earth do you do with clever potty poo??? After leaving the public place in disgrace, you rest the potty (plus snail) on top of push chair and walk head down as fast as you can (but not too fast, careful now) back to the car. Then drive the clever poo home for disposal, avoiding speed bumps.

The Foot Plunger
If you are unfortunate enough to be mildly clumsy/ unlucky at time, at some point you may well find yourself ankle-deep in a potty full of piss. You can only rejoice in the fact that it wasn’t the brown stuff. Now that would have been catastrophic in flip-flops.

The Tail
You’ve really cracked it, so much so you decide to go to a soft play (what were you thinking). All is going swimmingly, until you realise, to your horror, your potty trainee now has a tail. Not a lovely little fluffy dog tail, but a turd tail. A distinctive bugle around the bottom area. The potty trainee is about to set-off down the slide (which would no doubt end in a squishy disaster ), so with the speed of light you grab your new “doggy” and whip them into the toilet before any little brown balls slip down the trouser leg and into the ball pit.

NB: One must be very careful eating crumbs/ bits of “food” off the floor

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To add to this blog post, if you actually want to potty train with success and not fall victim to any of the above scenarios, this is a REALLY good blog on how to do it properly. Just follow the link……..

https://www.thinkbaby.org/how-to-potty-train-boys-girls-quickly-easily-potty-training-tips.html

 

 

 

 

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Flying Solo

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Its taken me a while to write this as I’ve still been recovering from the trauma…ok thats a bit dramatic as I know there are waaaaay worse things in life. However, a solo flight with my toddler and baby was not up there with my most pleasurable experiences. Nothing went crazily wrong, but it was certainly a “challenge” (I’m well aware that people do it all the time and with more children so really I shouldn’t dwell on it)

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I had conjured up a few scenarios in my head pre flight about things that could go wrong:

1) Both children would get the chickenpox the day before the flight
2) I would get ill the day before the flight
3) One or both children would puke and we would have to stay in crusty stinky puke clothes until our destination and no one would want to be fiends with us
4) Arlo would run off and get onto a random flight and be sold for a camel
5) Various poo scenarios
6) Flight would be cancelled/ delayed and we would have to spend 17.5 hours in airport or worse, sitting on aeroplane whilst they fixed the engine
7) Would sit next to someone who didn’t like children
8) Would loose passports, possibly thrown in bin along with shit nappy and puke clothes
9) I would forget a child at some point a long the way
10) My husband would forget to collect us

Now what silly parent of a toddler/ baby books a flight in “the witching hour”?? Ok, that was us because it was cheaper. I think this was the mistake

Here’s how it went……

COMMUTE TO AIRPORT

I used Chloes Taxi Service (actually just my mate Chloe in her Mums car) to take us to the airport. This was the best part of the journey and I would highly recommend her services. Toddler and baby slept in the car to Bristol, and I steamed up the windows with my nervous sweating, true story. We unloaded and the lovely Chloe sent us on our merry way (just wanted to grab onto Chloes legs and cry “please don’t leave us”).

Baby in pushchair, toddler on buggy board, backpack on, Arlos backpack on (so he felt important) and suitcase in hand. Assumed people were looking at us and thinking “wow, she’s got her sh*t together”…..when it was probably because I had left the silver shampoo on too long and gone grey.

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AIRPORT

Found our flight on the big screen and went to check-in desk with super organised tickets printed out. The lovely (pretty gay) man asked if I was flying on my own. I nearly broke down and started crying “yes, yes I am, please help me, don’t leave me, don’t make me do it”…….

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Went to security thing where you have to get EVERYTHING out of bags, liquids into other bags, shoes off, babies out, push chairs collapsed etc. Quite a palaver at the best of times, different ball game with a toddler and baby….with only 2 (clammy) hands. Random security guard had to hold the baby (he seemed nice?) and someone had to get Arlo off the security belt as he wanted to go through in the box with his important backpack.

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We made it through, but disaster struck. The pushchair was now broken. This prompted a blunt text to my husband saying “the fu*king pushchair is broken FULL STOP NO KISSES (totally HIS fault as I said we needed a new one). It was so chaotic after securtiy with people and STUFF, after considering just ditching the pushchair all together, I decided I would just have to lug the 2 broken pieces, the baby, the toddler, the buggy board, discarded jackets, the 2x backpacks, pammy panda, dino dinosaur through the airport. I made it approx 52.7 meters and decided I couldn’t carry on. Thank you to the lovely security guard (number 2) who fixed the (shit) pushchair.

We got some dinner and hung out (mostly in the toilet as they seemed happiest in there??) and waited for the flight. Arlo had a melt down as couldn’t see planes out of the window as promised, prompted many laps around the airport to find planes with upset plane deprived toddler (where were they????)

Witching hour was now upon us. Arlo turned into crazed-demented-toddler. Kitt turned into screetchy-teething-baby.

THE FLIGHT

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Boarded flight. Arlo was pretty excited (uncontrollable) by the enormous plane we could finally see. I had bought him a book about flying and how he could sit next to the window. I had booked a seat specifically. Weirdly the seat WAS next to a window, but alas, there was no actual window. Hysteria (god I felt bad)…..”mummy fix it please” (I couldn’t, it was a wall), “where’s my window mummy?”….” I want my window” Oh my

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So Arlo next to “window”, me and Kitt in the middle, and then a middle-aged man next to us. I totally pre judged him and my heart sank as he sat down. I was wanting another mum-type-figure….she would understand. I turned to him and said ” I’m so sorry, this isn’t going to be a relaxing flight for you”. Hurrah!!!! He said not to worry, he had 2 boys too, grown up now but he understands. He was my saving grace. We shall call him Dave.

Dave helped so much, he held Kitt, he played with Arlo, he retrieved various items off floor (yeh fun game) he wet wiped, he pulled faces, made animal noises, mended broken snacks so they could be eaten, he even helped do up my baby carrier. Thanks Dave. The world needs more Daves. But alas, Dave definitely saw my boobs.

FLYING

The following events continued for 1.5 hours…..the longest 1.5 hours of my life (the 16 hour drive home was mellow in comparrison). I don’t think Dave will ever be the same.

So take off: I had got Arlo a lolly to help with his ears, lolly would not come off stick, he wanted it to come off stick. Got emergency lolly, that would also not come off stick. Kitts ears popping, boobs out trying to feed Kitt to stop ears hurting, trying to simultaneously to wrench lolly off stick for Arlo. Got Calpol out of bag with foot. Calpol exploded due to air pressure, cleaning Calpol/ sticky lolly residue off baby/toddler/Dave. Calpol in Kitts eye rather than mouth. Snacks offered to Arlo to recover from lolly ordeal. Wong snacks (they were new and exciting?). Snacks on floor. Correct snacks given. One snack broken. Cant eat a broken snack? Inconsolable toddler. Sticker book out to distract toddler. Didn’t realise that toddler would need assistance pealing stickers off. Screaming baby in one arm, trying to retrieve George Pig sticker off floor and Grandpa Pig sticker off “window”. Teething gel for baby. Made him sick (just a little). Try to entice baby with teething necklace (worn round neck as god intended). Toddler wants teething necklace. Pulls very hard at teething necklace. Made Mummys voice very squeaky and strained as crushed wind pipe. Ipad (new spanking never-seen-before-blue-case-to-buy-me-5-mins) whipped out. Peppa pig. But wrong Peppa Pig. He wanted Postman Pat (wtf its ALWAYS Peppa Pig). New sparkling headphones (never-seen-before-to-buy-me-5-mins) put onto toddler. He didn’t want to wear them. He wanted ME to wear them. “but mummy doesn’t want to wear them”…..”MUMMY WEAR THEM”…..ok ok ok Mummy wear them. Random headphones on head, lead getting tangled in various items including baby seat belt that made baby angry, boobs still out, Kitt grabbing lady in fronts hair, Arlo kicking chair, frantically jabbing at Ipad for Pat (wheres Pat, PAT, HELP?????), snacks flying, toddler screaming as high pitched frequency of baby screams hurting his ears now…..and so on……..

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Time for my “piece-de-resistance”……..the presents!!!!!!!

A friend had advised me to wrap up little presents for the flight so they take a while to unwrap and then they have stuff to play with.

I’d wrapped them up too tight. Shit. Trying to unwrap bastard presents with one hand, un stick breast pad from Kitts head with other hand….red car unwrapped, red car landed in aisle 31, stopping toddler from trying to get to aisle 31 underneath seats, baby still crying as now a worked up teething monster….leading to altitude poo explosion (worse than sea level ones). Simultaneously toddlers delayed morning poo arrived. Used Dave to relay poo rescue. What do people do without a Dave?

Finally air stewardess came over and said “do you need some help love?”. They gave me a bottle of water for the children (maybe heard Arlo screaming that his juice had run out?). Kitt doesn’t drink water, Arlo cant drink water like a normal human from the bottle, but REALLY wants to try. Water everywhere……including my crotch: pissypants

DESTINATION
The rest of the passport control collecting luggage reuniting with husband actually went smoothly (bar some silly jokes with French passport control that one should not make at the airport, wheres their sense of humour??!). As soon as we were off the confines of the torture plane, things (children) seemed to calm down.

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AFTER-MARTH
We had made it! We survived!!! And as soon as I saw the mountains again, memories of the flight faded. And you know what, I would totally do it all again if it meant going snowboarding.

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I was so touched by everyone that helped me (I must have had fear written all over my face). And Dave, i’ll never forget Dave.

 

 

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10 Things NOT To Say To Your Sleep Deprived Wife

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Disclaimer Part 1: My husband is AMAZING during daylight hours, he just doesn’t hear anything at night??!! (see point 9)

Disclaimer Part 2: Inspired by my husband but not all of them ARE my husband….

Disclaimer Part 3: Good job my husband never reads this blog as I may come across a little bitter?

1) “I’m tired” Number one on the list. Literally NEVER, I repeat NEVER say this to your sleep deprived wife (or make ANY noise that remotely suggest you’re tired ie: yawning, stretching, groaning)….who has been up allllll night feeding/ rocking/shushing/singing/ jiggling/ patting/ trying not to make eye contact/ stroking/ dodging squeaky floorboards/wet wiping/ burping/ white noising……whilst YOU slept through. I can guarantee that you are not even half as tired as she is. In fact, she is the most tired person in the world ever. And don’t sugar coat it by saying “ahhhh Daddys tired today”. It will make your wife want to stab you……in a non violent loving way obviously.

2) “I understand what Sleep Deprivation feels like…..that one time when I was travelling/ drunk/ on a stag do/ staying in a hotel with an uncomfortable bed/ away for work”….you definitely don’t understand what sleep deprivation feels like (unless you have been tortured whilst in prison?), SHE is the only one in the world that knows what it feels like (and other Mums of non sleepers). You understand what a few rubbish nights sleep feels like whilst you still got to sleep BY YOURSELF.

3) “I can tell your tired”……basically saying that she is not her spritely/ loving/happy self….and she is maybe a little tetchy/ grumpy/ sensitive??!! Its on the same level of saying to a girl when she’s on her period “I can tell you’re on the blob” Just don’t say it.

4) “Oh you had a lie-in this morning”….when his alarm (yes a real alarm, not a baby) wakes him up at 7, he rolls over and sees you are “still” snoozing. Problem is, she has only just got back to sleep after being up at 11/12/1/2/3/4/5/6. Glorious lie in though.

5) “It was a good night last night”……how the f*ck do you know?? In fact, it was up there with one of the worst nights ever. You were just to busy snoring (see point 6) away to notice. You didn’t even notice when your wife was angrily huffing and puffing and muttering under her breath “I’ll fu*king get up then shall I?!”.

6) “Snoring”…technically not saying anything, but still a noise coming from your mouth. If you make any kind of noise whilst you are peacefully sleeping whilst your wife again is feeding/ rocking/ shushing/ burping/ pacing/ Googling sleep aids….she will want to punch you. I’m sorry.

7) “You look tired babe”….no shit!! She hasn’t slept since YOUR children have been born. Sorry she’s not the hot pot you thought you had married. Sorry she now looks like a shrivelled up old granny prune that’s aged about 50 years. Sorry she only has make up on one eye as she didn’t have time/ remember to do the other (not that make up will help her face at the moment anyway). Sorry she has forgotten how to dress as she’s too tired to remember what people in the outside world wear. Sorry she sprayed air freshener in the garden and tried to wash the bread as she was so confused. Sorry she talks about the Unicorn she saw coming out of the wardrobe last night. Sorry she calls you by the dogs name. Yes, she’s a little tired.

8) “I don’t hear anything in the night”…..hmmmmmmm that old chestnut (but actually true, its been tested it by strategically placing a screaming baby by your head at 3am). Although, you have heard enough to be able to move the pillow over your ears??? And check your phone…..yes she saw you.

9) “Why don’t you just get an early night tonight”…….pahahahaha she already goes to bed with the baby at 7.30pm.

10) ” I don’t know what you spend the money on all those sleep aids, they don’t work”……Obviously they don’t work. But DON”T try and take these away from her. Yes she may seem a little crazy but the white noise toy/ lavender spray/ special sleeping cream/ stuff in cot that smells like her/ muslin with milk on/ lucky sleep-suit/ lucky sleeping bag are the only things of “hope” she can cling onto during those long dark lonely nights.

NB: Im working on my resentment issues.

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Things That Are Not Ideal To Do With A Toddler AND Baby

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I started writing this a while ago “Things not to do with a toddler”. But now I have a baby, there is a whole different perspective on the matter. Sometimes the logistics just don’t work?!

Get A Filling At The Dentist
Bless my Dad, he had been roped into sitting with the baby and toddler in the waiting room whilst I “nipped” into get a filling. The clock was ticking away, then a panicked text arrived from my dad saying he was caught in traffic. The dentist called me through. He took one look at me, toddler hanging off my legs, baby hanging off my boobs and said “ooh”. Yeh Ohh indeed, there was nothing I could do, they were both just going to have to come in with me. There is nothing worse than being constrained to a chair with your mouth wide open, looking at a peaceful fish painting on the ceiling, whilst hearing your toddler running riot through the dentist draws and pressing buttons on the chair (“wow mummy up”), and your baby crying frantically as you’ve taken him off the boob too soon. Then trying to “shush” and “no don’t touch that” whilst the dentist is sucking the excess spit out of your mouth. Perhaps karma for eating too much chocolate?

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Go To A Gynecoloy Appointment
Another similar medical scenario, but with a different area of the body. I wont go into details, but as the doctor is saying “the more you relax the easier it will go in”, you are trying to access snacks from your bag to stop toddler climbing onto the doctors chair and get “digger” (stethoscope), hearing the keys on the keypad type as he goes (prob accidently perscribing a 2 year old Nicotine Patches). There is nothing more disconcerting than whilst baby is crying (again) the doctor is trying to shush and sing “twinkle twinkle little star” whilst inserting a certain metal instrument into nether regions. Just altogether a weird experience.

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Loose Phone In Foam Pit
My friend and I took 3x toddler plus one baby (mine) to I-Bounce (massive trampoline place with foam pits). We thought “we’ve got this”. And we HAD got it, it was all going swimmingly. No toddlers had been catapulted, not babies had been lost in foam pit (worse than phone??) and we were all pretty stoked with our free (ish) socks. We took it in turns holding the baby (car seat). I had been taking lots of photos (for my Instagram Stories obvs.) and then suddenly realised that my phone wasn’t in my pocket anymore (big gaping open pocket of hoody), it was in fact somewhere in the foam pit. It came down to a choice, concentrate on finding my phone…..or keep track of toddlers/ baby….luckily due to some strapping toddler fathers, we managed to do it all. Everyone pitched in and it wasn’t long before it was made into a fun game for the toddlers/ parents involved. Thank god to a pink glittery phone case, the phone was retrieved from the dark depths of despair and peace was restored. I did feel like a complete DICK, I mean, who takes a phone in a into a foam pit??!

Soft Play
Joyous places. My toddler is at the age/ the type that he wants to go into the soft plays but he wants me to go int with him. Fine if there are others there to hold the baby. A juggle if not. Usually ends up with me carting the baby round with me, taking it in turns to lift toddler/ baby up and through the tower of mesh netting, then crawl through tiny tunnel hooshing baby along on his back, then along wobbly beam holding toddlers hand/ baby clasped awkwardly into boobs, navigating ball pit in similar fashion, finishing up with both of them sitting on my lap to go down the wiggly slide that launches you off into the air (due to weight?!). Next time I’m wearing my gym gear.

Changing Synchronised Poos When You Only Have The Sling
The baby carrier is amazing, I’ve used it so much, way more than the pushchair this time. Leaves your hands free to (control) toddler. But there are certain situations where it just doesn’t work. One of these times I’ve found is if you are out and about and BOTH toddler and baby have pooped. Who do you do first? I’ve tried changing the toddler with the baby in the sling, but just can’t seem to get the right angles and ended up with the toddlers poo covered winky (gets everywhere) smearing a brown patch onto the babies back in the sling. So change the baby first, he comes out of the sling, then where do you put him whilst you change the toddler? Balance on the changing table at same time as toddler change? Do toddler standing up whilst balance baby on changing table (poos are hard do standing up!). I normally end up making a little make shift “cave” on (skanky) toilet floor out of empty sling and backpack to prop the baby up whilst I attend to toddler. Harder now he wriggles more (see photo, not on toilet floor but a reconstruction of events).

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Baby Photo Shoot

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The amazing Tara Statton (https://www.tarastattonphotography.com/) has taken some more beautiful photos for us. Thank you SOOOOO much (sorry we had to bribe Arlo with chocolate buttons!). Here are some of my favourite:

 

wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
wedding photographer devon tara statton
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The Neglected Second Child

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Baths
With my first baby, I lovingly bathed him every night, followed by an all over baby massage, story (totally understood it at 0 years old, but figured he might like the sound of my voice) whilst colourful lights danced across his ceiling in various unicorns and other mythical beasts, synchronised with soothing lullaby music. Most nights I even got in the bath with him so we could bond (there’s nothing better for the mother/baby bonding than seeing your mums postpartum body/ flab and other regions that haven’t been seen/accessed for many months). The whole bath and bedtime thing was just a beautiful experience and I would often wish that perhaps my husband could do this with me every night before bed to help me sleep?!
Second baby, it goes about 3/4….maybe even 5/6 days and we are like “oooo whats that smell??” After checking that we hadn’t left a nappy bag somewhere, the washing hadn’t gone mouldy in the machine (been in there 5 days i think?), something in the fridge hasn’t gone funky, we then realise that in actual fact it is our beautiful little baby. “We should probably bath him tonight then?” we agree. A quick 2 min dip in the bath (often in the toddlers old water) and job done. Its only recently that I’ve started upping his bath times to try to create some sort of bedtime routine to help him sleep (it’s what google says to do….def not working yet).

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General Cleaning
Follows on nicely to baby cleaning. First baby, tiny bit of sick/ poo- change of outfit. Fresh outfit for the morning, evening, bedtime. So many outfit changes. Fresh nappies constantly. So fresh, so clean!
Second baby, wet wipes have been key. You can pretty much keep the same outfit on for 24 hours if you do your wet wiping right. This does mean baby number two essentially goes out in his PJs most days, but you can totally get away with this when you can coo and blow bubbles. And nappies, I hate to say it, but I do forget to change him a lot of the time, or remember, but put it off (not always easy negotiating a toddler diving into the sanitary towel bin whilst you’re trying to hold your baby on the changing table with your foot). Obviously if I hear that familiar “parp” noise and it starts leaking out the side code red situation, I whip that bad boy off. Although, unlike my first, I seem to miss that “poop” noise sometimes (toddler too noisy?) and only discover the littler liquid treasure at a later time. Then feel horrendously guilty as wonder how long its been there. Maybe that’s why you’ve been crying?!
Unfortunately, on one dark and windy autumn day, I actually realised I had run out of baby nappies so had to wing it with a size 5 toddler one (see pic). Poor boy, it was up to his nipples and beyond. Well it was either that or a sanitary pad.

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Clothes
Brings me onto clothes. I was so excited to start dressing my first baby in proper clothes. So I pretty much did this from the start. In fact, I loved it so much I would plan his outfits the night before and get so excited to dress him in them. Lots of clothes were bought, lots of money was spent. I obviously had a lot of time on my hands?!
All of baby number 2s clothes are hand-me-downs (perk of having 2 of the same-sex). This time round, I’m pretty certain my baby will be in baby grows i.e. PJs until he’s 18. Special occasions (like when we might see people), I have started to dress him in actual clothes, but the majority of time he will be in a onesie. There’s just not been enough hours in the day now to plan his cat walk outfits. Poor little chicken, half his baby grows are so small now that he can barely straighten his body out. You WILL stay a newborn forever.

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Wardrobe Space
Baby number 1s (now toddler) wardrobe is extensive. I mean the boy has a double-breasted wardrobe just for his Autumn/ Winter collection (see picture)
Poor baby number 2 has a 3 draw (small-scale) chest of draws next to the huge wardrobe. Nothing like rubbing salt in the wounds. The clothes that can’t fit in the chest of draws live in a bag (Tescos?) in the airing cupboard.

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Attention
I do feel like baby number one had my undivided attention ALL the time. I didn’t get much done at all because I was concentrating on him so much and responding to his every beck and call.
This time round I have a 2 year old that takes up A LOT of my attention, so the poor second baby just seems spend his life plonked in places whilst I sort the toddler out. His day looks like this: propped up on sofa, strapped into swinging chair, moved into bouncy chair…..(bouncy chair is moved from kitchen, to living room, to bedroom. back to kitchen), wedged in Bumbo (chubby thighs), Bumbo relocated to various different places/ views, Sleepy Head (for naps haha yeh right), play gym, car seat (sometimes left in house, placed on sofa or outside for “fresh air”), AND REPEAT. Soon the “Circle of Neglect” ie; the Jumperoo, will come back into action. I feel so guilty that he just kinda gets left and I can’t spend my days just staring at him whilst drinking (hot?) tea.

Used As Entertainment
Baby number 2 is also used as a source of entertainment for the toddler and often treated as a play thing. “Lets see if the baby fits in here” or “lets stick these on the baby” are 2 of the many games we can play that keeps the toddler busy for 10 mins. I also feel like you aren’t as delicate with baby number 2, you realise that these babies are actually quite robust (well he has to be when big brother tries to move him to the play gym all by himself eeeeek). This means that he’s often placed in places for amusement/ funny photos.

Baby Classes
First time round I hammered the s*it out of baby sensory, baby massage, baby gymnastics, bounce and rhyme, baby yoga (didn’t get on well with this), baby swimming…It was crazy busy but felt I NEEDED to do it all for my sons development?!
This time round the logistics of it (can’t take toddler to baby massage/ baby yoga…imagine!) means I cant really do anything specifically for my new baby (mum guilt). So baby number 2 just pretty much tags along to all of my toddlers classes/ social life. BUT I feel he’s almost getting a free ride?! Although not specially for him, already at 3 months old, he gets to attend/ watch/ “absorb” toddler gymnastics, toddler swimming (soon), Forrest School, toddler yoga, soft plays, toddler play dates, farm days, craft classes, tractor rides, crabbing……list goes on……and I get to save some ££££$$$$$

Name Confusion
I never forgot the name of my first son.
Second time round, I’m really struggling to call my baby the correct name……Arlo/ Daddy/ Rich (husband)/ Lottie (dog)/ Jamie (brother)/ Keith (who’s Keith??)…….ahhh whats your name again??! It’s not that its hard to remember, or that I have THAT many more names to remember now, so I can’t understand why I’m struggling so much? I think it’s a lot to do with the tiredness (and age?), I’m just so confused. I basically reel off all of the names I know until I hit on the right one. Plus, he’s never just called his name, he’s known as Baby Kitt. I think he should be Baby Kitt on his birth certificate.

Development
With my first son I was so excited for him to meet each developmental stage (ie. holding head up, rolling over, sitting up, crawling etc). We would even have training sessions.
This time round I’ve realised that actually things become harder when they get bigger (they can move), so I am discouraging any type of development! I want to know what when I plonk him down somewhere, that he’s going to be there when I get back. Plus I want to keep him a baby FOREVER.

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Napping
Child number 1, nap times (like bedtimes) were a serene and peaceful experience.
This time, naps for my baby are on-the-go, normally 20 min power naps in the car seat, or in the sling whilst navigating the ball pit in a soft play, or at home with a xylophone/ hammer/ toy drill being played with next to his head. I’m so sorry.

 

*disclaimer. I love my second baby just as much as my first and don’t mean to “neglect” him. He is very much loved, kept warm, happy, fed and clean (mostly). Weirdly, second baby seems way more laid back.