I am Some Things You Should Know Mum

Things that no one tells a soon to be Mamma.

Please be aware that this is a NHB (No holding back) post which may contain TMI for some readers! 😂😂

If you read this and wish you hadn’t, too bad really… But you can’t say you weren’t warned!

The Early Days

1. The first visitors to the hospital will be a blur. I was so out of it on adrenaline and whatever horse tranquilisers they’d given me that my first visitors still talk about how “great” I was… And yet I don’t remember a thing about the first day!

If you have other kids, manipulating the visitors so that your kids and then Grandparents are first in, is a military operation! Hopefully it will only be your nearest and dearest who come along initially.

Most people are good at knowing that it’s best to wait until Mamma is settled at home before they visit. There are no rules of course, but in my little rule book, only go to the hospital if it’s one of your closest friends or a close family member.

2. The interruptions: You’ll just have drifted off to snooze after finally getting your little one to nod off and the door of the ward shall swing open and in comes “The Beeper”.

The Beeper is the little Blood Pressure monitor and fancy trolley the lovely nurses push from ward to ward to make sure you and baby are doing OK. It looks like Johnny 5 and has a habit of appearing at the most inconvenient times.

Don’t get me wrong. The nurses have a schedule and have to do their rounds and it’s all in your best interest, but you will learn to loath the Beeper. But it’s only for a few days and it makes going home to your own bed all the sweeter.

3. Your first toilet trip: With Mini-Me, I read all the books. ALL of them! My Darling mother happily answered my questions with brutal honesty. When I found out I’d be having her by section, my amazing friend told me all about hers in her colourful language.

Having grown up on a farm and having helped out, hands on I might add, with MANY C-Sections on Cows, I felt quite prepared. I put my faith, my trust and my vulnerable self in the care of the surgeons and all was right with the world.

But NO ONE prepared me for the first toilet trip…when you go for your first pee, apparently it’s normal to feel like you’re being sliced open again without anaesthetic this time! I swear to God, I thought I was going to die right there on the loo. It was not pretty. The pain almost made me puke.

And as if that wasn’t terrifying enough, the first poo is fecking horrendous! I have it on good authority that it is the same for Mummies who deliver vaginally. Again, I thought my entire insides were falling out.

I roared so loudly that The Him actually called for a nurse and she had to come in to convince me that no, I hadn’t just passed my bowel and no, I wasn’t going to die. But don’t tell anyone. How undignified and ridiculous right?

4. The Boobs: Now, for me, this was a big deal. And I mean Big in every sense of the word. As a woman of the Fried egg club, to wake up on day three with two bald heads in my bra, was quite the trauma. I swear to God I looked like Jordan. I’ve always wondered if I’d like to have boobs… No. No I wouldn’t . Thank you. No. Give me my fried eggs any day.

 

5. The journey home: My memory of this one still makes me laugh. The walk from the ward to the car with your lovely car seat is one of the most surreal experiences of your life. I hadn’t stepped more than 6 foot to the bathroom in 4 days.

Suddenly I had to waddle my way down corridors, into lifts (oooooh that bump takes on a whole new level of weirdness after a section!), through a lobby (carrying balloons to boot!) and out into the car. It was like running 20feet and then thinking you’re ready for a marathon the next day.

Daddy is grinning like a Cheshire cat while you shall be torn between scolding him for swinging the seat too much when he walks, and holding your ladybits in because they feel like they are about to fall the hell out of you with every step!

Getting into the car is a challenge and then there’s the drive home. I dare say The Him didn’t go above 40mph the whole way out to the house, because of the precious cargo and of course because of my delicate state. We both give out about Dooters on the road, but Oh my did he dooter out the road that day!

6. The tears: Oh tears. You unpredictable little feckers… They come in waves. You have NO control over them. They’ll arrive at the worst times. And you’ll possibly laugh at the same time because you will have no idea why the hell you’re crying! But let them flow. It’s completely normal! I’m still crying over anything and my Baby is nearly 3!

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7. The Visitors: While you’ll want nothing more than to see people and introduce your new bundle to your loved ones, bear in mind that your first day or two at home will be exhausting, emotional and terrifying. If I had been able to pay the midwives to come home with me, I would have. I remember getting to the house with The Him and the Car seat and being soooooo frightened. There was no buzzer. There were no nurses down the hall. It was just us. But we were fine.

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8. Newborns aren’t overly interesting:  Ok, they are actually much more interesting than you ever thought they were. But here’s the key. YOUR newborn is interesting. To YOU and your partner . Don’t be offended if your visitors only start at the baby for a few minutes. Yes of course they’re interested and of course they’ll think your baby is gorgeous, but while you can watch this little person doing NOTHING for hours on end, to others, it is exactly that…a little person doing nothing!

They don’t see the miraculous progression from yesterday, or that the baby is holding your focus for a few moments longer… or that her grip seems more purposeful. So don’t get offended that your friends seem to politely stare at the baby for only a few minutes, declaring his cuteness or that she has your eyes, before moving promptly on to some other topic of conversation. It’s normal.

And be honest, you’ve probably done it yourself many times. Because other people’s babies are not that interesting are they?

lasagne

9. Lasagne can make you cry: The gifts and parcels and flowers will come and be hugely appreciated. But the most welcomed and remembered offering to the home of the newborn…is food! And the best kind of food is something that can be portioned, reheated, frozen or even eaten cold from the casserole dish. Think curry. Think chilli. Think lasagne. You never realised how good lasagne tastes. It’ll make you so happy that may cry tears of joy.

10. You suddenly won’t care who washes your knickers: Maybe this was just me. Before I had Mini-Me, the thought of someone else doing my washing would have driven me mad with shame. Not because there’s anything wrong with my smalls, No! But I could never have even entertained the thought of my Mum or Mother-in-Law washing them.

And then I got over that VERY quickly. Because the first time I realised that the washing machine was going without me having started it, my initial panic was so overwhelmed by total gratitude that I even surprised myself. Now, I still don’t like the idea of someone washing my knickers, but for the first few weeks after birth, you really shouldn’t give a damn.

So now you’re home. And you could probably add 10 more things to this list. Add away Supermums.

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I am Some Love for the Babywipe Mum

Mammy loves the Babywipes.
 
And on the day where our neighbours have announced that all Babywipes will be a thing of the past within 25 years, I must share my appreciation with you again.
 
Every Mammy loves the Babywipes, don’t they?
We should thank the Inventor of the Babywipes.
Apparently, the first Babywipe was invented in the 1950s and first produced by a company called Nice-Pak… Almost 70 years later, I’m sure that if the inventor of the Babywipes is still alive, he or she is rolling themselves in Babywipes every evening, breathing in the sweet, musky smell of their own genius.
So to them, (or to their ghost who is possibly reading this blog over someone’s shoulder😉), Thank you for the Babywipes.
Thank you from every Mammy in the world.
When Babywipes were born,😂 Mammies everywhere sighed in relief and danced a little pee-inducing dance with utter joy and thrill that FINALLY, there was a handy, disposable, multi-use Mammy tool.
Indeed I am sure the the inventor of the Babywipe rubbed his or her happy hands together in glee when they realised that the Babywipes were going to become so sought after, so cherished and so NECESSARY in the lives of parents EVERYWHERE. Not only EVERYWHERE in the world, but EVERYWHERE in every parent’s world…the changing station, the baby bag, the handbag, the car, the office drawers…
Poo poo, Bum bum, Ching ching. 😂
But let me tell you ONE thing that the Babywipe inventors, and indeed the modern-day Babywipe producer omitted, and CONTINUE to omit, from their research and development. The one thing they UNDERESTIMATED…
Wheetabix.
Yes. Another classic staple in every home. How the fecking Babywipe makers HAVE NOT yet figured out HOW to remove digested Wheetabix from the peachy bottom of a wriggling Poopmonster is beyond me. Have they not got edumacated sciency people formulating and developing the Babywipes in big sanitised laboratories somewhere near “Area Fiftybum”?
Do they not do fire tests and delta force style strength tests or use sandblasting to ensure that these mammy weapons are teflar-ly durable?
Are there not product testers who tick off the list of “Things the Babywipe can dissolve and remove”, like:
 
 
🌈pee pee
 
🌈 baby spit
 
🌈 yoghurt
 
🌈mashed potato
 
🌈 dried paint 
 
🌈 kitchen grease 
 
🌈 makeup
 
🌈 ordinary, run of the mill Poonamis
 
🌈digested blueberries…well…
 
🌈 shat out wheetabix… NOOOOOOOOOOO.
 
How is Shat out Wheetabix NOT the TOP of the list?
 
Have the product testers NEVER cleaned the nether-regions of a wobbler who has eaten an average of 2 of the cardboardy biscuits a day?
I wonder if the sciency people would like a “Test bummy” to try to figure out how to fix the babywipes so that they CLEAN AND REMOVE the shards of poo, as opposed to pushing them around the soggy bottom, like little grains of sand that love to simply ROLL over the skin, clinging it like feckin mini-leeches to shiny, smooth glass…
 
I can offer the services of a Poopmonster.
 
Do you think if we Mammies offered to help them to develop their technology further, could we call the research “The Big Bum Theory”?
 
Now, today, our neighbours in the UK announced something that makes me think that there is a good chance that the country is INDEED being run by a shower of fucking chimps. Stupid big chimps who think that just because THEIR hairy arsed baby chimps don’t need Baby wipes to wipe up their poonamis, that we meagre humans can learn to do the same.
 
They’re either chimps, or the archaic Male type who still beats his chest while his poor wife deals with the offspring. Or females who have never had the pleasure of wiping both a Baby’s bum AND their own hands with the SAME babywipe. OR a woman who has a CLEANER and so has not yet realised how fecking INGENIOUS the little white yoks are at removing grease and grime from EVERYWHERE!
 
And what’s MOST frightening is that we often find ourselves following the suit of our lovely neighbours in many aspects of social governance. I tell you now however, Mammies of Donegal. Should there come a time where our society suggests that we ban the buttwipe, I WILL indeed follow their suit. As in their BREXIT and I shall declare Donegal a republic from the rest of Chimpville and I shall be Queen and we shall all wear lovely hats on a Monday and wine will delivered free to all Mammies on a Friday at 5pm, ALONG WITH THE FREE BABYWIPES!
 
Seriously, have they even ever changed a shitty nappy? I think not. I THINK NOT!
 
 
#savethewipes #Sillybeggars
babywipe
 

Giveaway – Babynow Teether Ball

The lovely Dan Connolly from Cork mailed me to see if I would like to review his product.  Now as my girls are past this and because I don’t do the whole “I’ll review if you pay me to craic”, I declined.  So instead he offered to send me 3 sets of these lovely wee teething balls to give away to my followers.

I agreed on the condition that I liked them.  If I didn’t, I’d be returning them.

And guess what, I like them.  I’m a bit sad actually that I hadn’t found them while Princess was in the hellish horrors of the slabbering and screaming a few months ago. And while she could still get some joy from them, at 2 and a half, she’d more likely to throw them, so I’ve kept her hands away from them.

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They’re colourful and the colours are neutral and bright.  The material and glue used are food grade silicone and safe to little mouths.  The jingle of the little bell is lovely and they are a sensory dream.  A beautiful product which would be a wonderful gift for a new parent.

31369352_10160151839550167_1761351695654191104_nNot only have I got some sets to give away, Dan has kindly reduced the price of them on his amazon page for my blog readers this weekend!

Usually retailing at over €40, they are available to you for  £24.95!

 

 

This price is only valid from Friday to Sunday Night , for my followers by clicking here here!

 

This item has been developed by www.babynowbrand.com run by Daniel Connolly from Cork. He is an ecommerce entrepreneur and focuses on selling globally via the amazon.com marketplace.

If you fancy winning a set, hit on my facebook page before 1pm Saturday.

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I am Stop Bump Shaming Mum -Part 1

Yes.  I’m saying it.

Stop Body Shaming bumps.😡
Body Shaming happens to all women, of all ages, of all shapes and sizes, all the time…EVEN, believe it or not, during Pregnancy. 😲
Yes, Pregnancy…
You know that time when you are eating for two and are supposed to GLOW like a fricken Christmas Tree and your body is a temple of growth and nurture, for all to admire and be in awe of?     When you’re also a hormonal wreck, paranoid, vulnerable and particularly susceptible to tears? 😢😢

When you’re growing a PERSON inside of you; sometimes more than one, 😥and you are officially exempt from giving a continental crap about your shape for the next year and more?
Yes. Even then.
Body shaming the Bump DOES happen.

It’s not usually intentional, but it happens.
I have a confession to make.
During my last pregnancy… (and I mean last in both senses of that word!)…I did something mean. 😈
I got so fecking SICK of people freaking out when they saw the size of my bump, that one day I decided to have a little fun with it.
I was HUMONGOUS.  (And no, I am NOT exaggerating.  Ask ANY of my family or friends and they will smile a meek smile and nod in agreement.) And just to prove how big my perfect bump was, the photograph below was taken when I was 36 weeks.  And I wasn’t quite as big as I would be at 39! 😂👇👇👇👇👇👇

With Mini-Me, I showed at 10 weeks.

With Princess, I got to 7 weeks before I got fed up trying to hide my bump.

I have always been quite slim so in fairness, trying to hide a bump was never going to be easy, but even loose tops didn’t cover my little (or not so little) secret.

We never really got the chance to keep it to ourselves until after the 12 week scan, so you can imagine how big I was by 31 weeks.  I looked bigger than most expectant Mammas look at full term. 😂

I walked into a shop at the end of 31st week and the look of panic on the shop assistant’s face when she clocked the BUMP was hilarious.  She approached me and flew through the usual chitchat to get straight to her point.
“When are you due love?”

I couldn’t help myself my Pretties.  It was out before I even thought about it.
“Ten days ago”, I answered, shaking my head and rubbing my big belly, “I’m hoping a walk around the shops will help get me started.” (added puffs for effect…pause as if whincing in pain…)

“Here let me help you!”  I swear to God, she ran around that shop filling  my wee basket so quickly, I really couldn’t keep up with her.

“All the best now Lovey, I hope all goes well!” she cooed after me as I left.  I’m pretty sure she needed a strong drink after that.  and yes, I shouldn’t have lied, but I was fed up.
For almost 10 months, you become the property of the world.  (and yes, it is 10 months…9 my arse.)
EVERYONE has an opinion.
You’re so HUGE!”  (Really?  I hadn’t noticed.  Is that why my pelvis is dragging on the ground when I walk?)😐
“I was never as big as you!”  (Piss off.) 😐
“Aw poor Maria.  You must be scundered…”  (No Deary.  I’m just pregnant.)😐

“Well Tracy SAID you were huge but I didn’t think you were THIS HUGE!”  (Yup.  For this one, I had to kick my sister under the table to stop her from DESTROYING the unintentionally offensive woman.)😅

“Is it heavy?”   (In fairness, this question was from a lovely friend who has bever been pregnant so it was a genuine question and I gave her a genuine answer…”Yes.  I feel like I’m carrying an articulated fecking LORRY on my ladybits.”)
“I suppose you can barely move with that bump?”  (God Noooo!  I’m just back from Irish Dancing.  I’m high kicking Higher than ever before!)😂

Aaaaaaah you’re not THAT big!”  OK, OK.  Who am I kidding?  I NEVER heard this one! 😅😂

“You must be nearly due?”  (No I’m only 28/30/32/34 weeks…cue shock/horror/sympathy/panic on their face.)
And these are only the few I remember.
And so maybe now, you understand why I played the trick.
Do I feel guilty? No, but I felt really fricken frustrated a few weeks later when I didn’t have the balls to go in with my even BIGGER Bump and I really wanted a certain cheese the lady stocked. 😆😆
But seriously, Stop it.  We all need to stop it. (And of course I include myself in this.  We ALL do it don’t we?)

In fairness, we don’t even realise we’re doing it.

The things we say to a pregnant lady are usually not intending ANY offence AT ALL.  Of course not.
But if you’re going to say anything, try not to comment on the bump.
Tell her she looks glowing, even if you think she looks knackered.

Tell her she’s gorgeous, even if she looks like the double decker Bus she feels like she’s carrying.

Tell her it suits her.  She might just need to hear that, but don’t comment on the size of the bump, regardless whether it’s big or small.
The Mammy who hears “You’re so neat”, might have spent the whole night up counting baby’s kicks, or panicking that her bump is too small compared to others. 😣

The Mammy who hears “You’re huge!” doesn’t need to be reminded.  Trust me, she already knows. She remembered once she opened her eyes this morning and tried, like an upturned turtle, to get out of the bed to pee. 😅
So keep it positive and keep it off the bump.

And yes I know that many people don’t mind and maybe even enjoy the attention the bump brings, but unless you’re telling them their bump is gorgeous, just Ssssssh!
And then…THEN comes the Post Baby body Shaming but that’s another post altogether. I’ll save that for Moody-Mum Monday.
Goodnight you #GlammyMammies.
You’re beautiful and your bump is perfect.  That is all you need to hear.

S-Mum  xxx

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I am She’s not quite getting it Mum

Mini-Me: Mammy, Did you know Uncle D and Aunty P gotted maawied FREE times?

Mammy: Three times? Why do you say that?

Mini-Me: Sure cos dey have FREE children. Dat means dey gotted maawied free times.

Me: Oh Really? (I’m pretty sure there’s nothung FREE about 3 kids!) And so how many times have Uncle C and Aunty B been married?

Mini-Me: Eh you KNOW dat? DEY have TWO children so TWO times like…

Me: And does that mean me and Daddy got married twice too?

Mini-Me: Yes. You and Daddy gotted maaaaawied twice. Once for me. Once for Fudge. (Her nickname for the littlest shitster 💖😆)

Me: Gosh I don’t remember getting married twice Daddy, do you?
(And I know I’d remember having had a new dress and fab shoes and another hen party… come to think of it, is it time to renew our vows yet? 😂😂)

He laughs. And then…

The Him: So do you have to get married EVERY TIME you get a new baby?

Mini-Me: Yup. (Smugness personified.. 🙃)

The Him: Did YOU know that your Granny M (The Queen Mother of all the world) had TEN Babies?

Mini-Me: 👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

Speechless

That’s a WHOLE lot of weddings eh? And a WHOLE lot of dresses. 😘

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

#innocence #speechless