Another positive week with some challenges

I have been back home from holiday for almost a week and have been so worried about how I would stay positive, cope going back to work and having to get back into our normal routine. I’ve found that I can spiral quickly when things are on top of me and when I feel overwhelmed and with coming back to a house with a mountain of washing, school runs, catching up on jobs and going back to work I was unsure how I would cope. The first couple of days after getting back from our holiday I stayed in and just caught up on washing and jobs around the house, I wasn’t feeling very motivated as I’m sure no one is about washing, but I pushed myself to get it done. I find it so easy to get myself stuck in a rut and not going out of the house. On a Monday I now usually go to a gym class, but with Mr T being full of cold I was stuck in doors for the whole day which had then made me anxious and I struggled to stay positive about returning back to work the following day.

Miss J had her first nativity play this week as a towns person, which she has been very excited about. She’s been singing the songs all week and was so excited that me and daddy would be coming to see her. Unfortunately were not able to see her much in the nativity as we didn’t get great seats, but she saw that we were there and she loved it so that’s all that matters.

My sleep on holiday had been fantastic, I was getting a good 8 hours a night plus naps most days, but since getting home I’ve been struggling to unwind and sleep again. I felt so relaxed and calm on holiday and since I’ve been back I’ve felt like my mind is racing again. When I don’t get sleep my mood can be effected quickly and it’s something that had worried me. Last night I downloaded Headspace app which I have used previously to help me sleep. I’ve put a reminder on through the app every night at 11pm so I can go upstairs and listen to it in preparation to sleep. The sessions take ten minuets and they really are so relaxing and I always seem to be able to get to sleep quickly after.

Something else positive this week was going back to the gym yesterday. I tried out the body pump class and can honestly say that I loved it and will be back again next week. I ache so bad today, but am determined to keep up with the gym so I can lose weight, tone and also feel better in myself. Before my holiday I had been going to Zumba class on a Monday which I am also really enjoying, but unfortunately with Mr T being ill this week I had to miss it. I never thought I was a gym person and when I had joined other gyms before kids I soon got bored and stopped going. I think the key to this one is that I can go in the day when I have energy and they also have a crèche so by the time I’ve finished my class and had a shower Mr T is ready for his nap, so I can have some time for lunch in peace and we then can have a lovely afternoon playing. Mr T hasn’t been in a nursery yet so this time for him has been great for him to be away from me and to interact with other children in preparation to him starting nursery next month. I have also taken some horrid pictures of myself in my work out clothes to motivate me to lose this horrible belly and massive thighs of mine, I don’t think I’ll be sharing those with you though.

This morning we managed to have a bit of an epic fail. I got Miss J dressed for Christmas Jumper Day today and then realised half way to school that no other children were dressed besides mine and my equally silly friends two kids. We quickly ran back home, did a quick uniform change and promised that she could put it back on after school, when I realised I had locked myself into my house. We had our door fixed recently which wasn’t done very well as we now need to use the key to open it from the inside, but you can open it from the outside if it isn’t properly locked. In the frantic rush to get Miss J dressed I had managed to leave the keys on the other side of the door. Poor Miss J had to go out the window and broke a plant pot in the process, so she could open the door for me. We then eventually made it to school, dropped Mr T of quickly to my mum and managed to make it to work on time. Another thing on my list of things to do is to get the front door fixed.

My job for over the weekend is to start writing out a chores schedule, so we can all do our bit in the house to make it cleaner, more organised and taking away some of the stress of it all landing on my shoulders. My husband is fantastic as he works long hours, but to do anything he has to be told and he has a habit of leaving clothes, cups plates and sweetie wrappers all around the house. My husband like many others still lives like a teenager and with the children taking up so much of my time it’s his time to start chipping in. My darling husband you are no longer going to be picked up after and you are in charge of you own mess. Another job for me this weekend is to have a clear out whilst Miss J is staying with her nanny. I have made a start going through the children’s clothes and packing up a big bag to go to a local hostel for young mums. Tonight I will be making my yearly Christmas card and calendars for the grand-parents so I can tick off something else on my never-ending list. Getting the children to stay still and happy last night for pictures for the Christmas card was extremely frustrating (see blog post picture), until we discovered jelly tots. We eventually managed to get a decent picture through bribery and got the children hyped up on sugar just before bed.

I have my first appointment with the mental health community team next week to see what long-term help they can offer me. I’m so nervous about going, but I know it will be a hugely positive thing for me to have this support so I can continue to get better.

I have set my goals for the following week to stay positive and achieve what I can. Any achievement for me to improve even if only slightly is a huge step in the right direction. I will continue doing my affirmations everyday to make sure my head is in the right place.

 

 

 

Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinrssinstagram
I'm not the perfect mum and that's ok

I’m not a perfect mum and that’s ok

I used to always visualise myself as the perfect Stepford wife and mother. I would imagine my life to be filled with baking, perfectly behaved children, play dates and walks around the park. The reality has been a bit different and even though I wouldn’t change my children for the world I wish I could have changed my expectations earlier on to save myself from so much guilt.

Aww wasn't I cute
Aww wasn’t I cute

Since I was a child myself all I’ve ever wanted is to be married and a mummy, I used to play getting married to my cat (lol) and used to always be playing with my dolls. My baby doll was called Hannah and I took her everywhere with me, but sometimes my cat Dinkey would get dressed in one of my old baby grows and get pushed around the house. I remember actually counting down the years as a child until I would be able to have a child, which I always figured would be 29 like my mother. I fell in love at 20 and went on to be married at 23 and pregnant with my child a few weeks later, so I didn’t manage to stick to plan like my intentions.

Dinkey being spoon fed. Poor cat.
Dinkey being spoon fed. Poor cat.

My own mother has always made it look so effortless and I just assumed my expectations of life would be the same. My mum even told me her labour pains had been like period pains and being constipated, didn’t last long and she didn’t need the gas and air. My mum was either lying or has an amazing pain threshold, as my labour couldn’t have been more different.  We grew up in a big house down a private road in Biddenham,Bedfordshire, my dad worked from home and my mum worked for my dad, our house was like a showhome and we had every toy we could have imagined. My childhood at home with my mum and sister was perfect in my eyes, but I’m sure I don’t remember the struggles my mum had gone through to keep a house that size clean, the financial side of my parents having to sell the home which they had built together to downsize. My parents hid everything for us and we were blissfully unaware.

For the first two years of parenting I kept it all in check and lived out my dream as I had planned, we did long walks in the park, we baked, we did play dates and we even got out the bastard play doh. The thing is one child is a lot easier than two and is 100% twice the work and Miss J was an exceptional easier baby and toddler than her brother. Once I was pregnant I started to find it tough, I didn’t have the energy to keep up with my daughter as much especially with SPD, but I told myself once the baby was here it would be nice and lovely and easy again. I can’t believe how naive and stupid I was. Mr T had reflux, didn’t sleep and was generally a hard baby and I had a toddler who resented him for taking so much of her mummy’s time away.

My real life doll.
My real life doll.

It’s been a long 18 months, but eventually my daughter bonded with her baby brother and I’m learning to let go of the guilt. I know I’m far from perfect and I know I never will be, but at the end of my day my children our mostly happy, they are clean, they have full tummies, too many bloody toys and a rather messy house to live in. My expectations have had to be lowered so the mummy guilt doesn’t consume me and add to my postnatal depression. My house will not be tidy for years to come and no one gives a rats ass if my windows are covered in finger prints. I am doing my best even if we are just surviving from day-to-day at times. This stage will not last forever and these children won’t always be small, but the house can wait and I will appreciate them whilst they are still young enough to need me so much. Play doh may come out on the odd occasion, we will bake together if its someones birthday and we will go for walks in the park when we have the energy and patience. I won’t beat myself up if I don’t achieve everything I have had planned I will praise myself for what we did manage.

I am not the perfect mum and I never will be and I will not punish myself anymore for this.

Read embracing the rubbish parent

Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinrssinstagram

The shock of a baby boy after a girl

The shock of a boy baby after a girl

I was blessed with the most beautiful, content and well and truly cooked 41 week baby in 2012. After a tough and long labour (3 days), pethidine twice and an epidural Miss J was welcomed into this world and placed into my arms. She honestly looked like one of the 8 week old babies born in EastEnders, she was pink, plump, awake and stunning. She latched immediately after birth and just seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

Miss J was the perfect first baby and did everything by the book. She breastfed well and was happily sleeping through the night by five weeks. When other mums were talking about how exhausted they were I felt a little smug that I must have been doing something right with this perfect bundle of joy I had.

Miss J was a well behaved toddler and if I said no she would listen. She took her first steps on her 1st birthday and within a couple of months was more than happy to go on outside walks with me whilst holding onto my hand.  She always seemed older than she was with her long hair in bunches and sitting playing with her dolls so gently. The only trouble I had with Miss J was her eating. After getting the rotavirus at 9 months and having a hospital stay for three days as a baby she has always been funny with her food and still has trouble with trying much stuff.

I’ve always winced a little at the sight of a child with a snotty nose and dirty hands, so Miss J was taught at a young age to stay clean which she seemed quiet happy to do. She was never interested in messy play and would come to me immediately if she had the smallest bit of dirt on her hands to have them cleaned. Miss J has never been one to put small stuff in her mouth even as a baby, so I never had to be careful about small toys or parts as I knew she would behave.

Mr T was welcomed into this world in 2015, after a difficult pregnancy. Mr T decided he wanted to be a little impatient and my waters broke at 37 weeks without going into labour. I was induced the following day and five hours later he was welcomed into this world, pain relief free (only because the stupid epidural didn’t work). In contrast to Miss J he was blue, waxy and the ugliest baby I have ever seen. I know every mother is supposed to think their newborn baby is beautiful, but unfortunately Mr T really was a funny looking squished thing for the first day of life.  Me and my husband tried desperately to get a picture to share with the world, but he just looked a little funny.

Getting Mr T to latch was a lot harder and as the days went by and my milk came in he had a real struggle with how fast the milk came out and was constantly chocking and unlatching. I soon learnt that I had to pump some milk off at first and lay on my side to feed him. Mr T’s reflux started about a week after he was born, but he wasn’t just sick a little, he was sick constantly and was having his baby grow changed up to five times in a night. With the reflux came the pain and many a sleepless night, he finally started to sleep through at about 9 months of age and touch wood that seems to be continuing.

Mr T has been slow compared to Miss J with his milestones and only started to sit at nine months and started walking at 17 months. Mr T made up with climbing though and will climb anything that is possible to climb. I even caught him using a collapsed clothes dryer as a ladder the other day to play with a light switch.

Mr T finally seems to have embraced turning into a toddler the last couple of weeks and is walking confidently and isn’t as clingy. He will shovel any food possible into his mouth, even if its not his and will quite happily swipe a piece of bacon of your plate if you sit too close. The only way I can describe him is like a whirlwind.

I am forever fishing out various objects from his mouth, I catch him eating food I hadn’t seen to clear up from yesterday, after he had launched it across the room. I’ve caught him playing in the litter tray, he’s drank perfume and had to go to A&E and if I say no to him, he laughs and will continue with what he’s doing. He has broken countless toys of Miss J’s and broken candles, and picture frames and I’m certain his path of destruction will continue for many more years.

My son is covered in snot and dirt and is forever sticky, my daughter is actually disgusted in him at times, but he is our little trouble maker. Mr T has changed the dynamics of out house and we are eternally grateful that he is here. He may turn me grey and make me mutter the odd swear word under my breath, but he is the funniest, cheekiest and squishiest little boy you could meet. He is full of love and kisses and we couldn’t be without him.

 

 

 

Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinrssinstagram

The joys of a toddler who climbs everything.  

Mr T is a complete whirlwind compared to his sister and he has taken me by surprise. Mr T is a climber and a dangerous one at that. I now have a child covered in bumps and bruises and the thing is he doesn’t even care. I spend my whole life trying to catch Mr T and pulling him off various objects but you can’t help but admire his determination.

At first I was actually quiet impressed and would enjoy watching him explore the world in a new way, but now I just mutter “ffs” under my breath and pull him back down. He is getting smarter by the day and now using objects as building blocks to reach new heights whilst mummy is having mini heartattacks multiple times a day.

I’m hoping this new skill will serve him well in the future, but his lack of fear and the fact he doesn’t seem to feel pain does worry me that he may become some crazy daredevil as he becomes a teenager. I am guessing I may be a few trips to the hospital in years to come and I expect my hair to be completely grey by the time I’m in my mid thirties.

His latest trick is now to stand by the window and watch people as they pass. I’m sure the postman must think he’s some poor hard done by child that has no toys or stimulation, but the truth is if he’s climber he’s happy. One thing that I will never mind is when he climbs on me for a cuddle.

Facebooktwitterpinterestlinkedinrssinstagram