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.

 

 

 

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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.

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