Tag Archives: mummies

I am Switching-around-the-furniture Mum

Posted in children, family, parenting, time, wine by

Today was a very productive day.
We spent the afternoon moving furniture around and rearranging rooms! 😆

I can’t tell you the joy this gives me. It makes me happy when The Him is home and actually gets to USE those muscles 💪💪he works so hard on at the Jim. (Yes, I refer to our gym as a person.👤 He is after all a member of the fricken family.)

The Him with the muscles however is not so keen on my biannual moving of the furniture. 😐
He doesn’t GET that it makes S-Mumming much easier when there’s a certain amount of organisation and order in our very messy home.

He agreed to move the furniture today on condition that I don’t rearrange the kitchen (again.)
All this did was put that idea into my head and onto my to-do list for tomorrow. 😈
I’ll take pleasure reminding him it was his idea when he’s swearing tomorrow night because he can’t find the black pepper.😂

Anyway, the BEST thing about the rearranging of the furniture was the moving of a double bed into Mini-Me’s bedroom.
S-Mum is being very clever and pre-empting such future events as sleepovers and “I need Mummy” nights of fever or whatever.  Instead of my arse hanging out the side of her tiny bed, I shall simply lie beside her. Clever mammy. 😗

But he BESTEST THING about the double bed is how ABSOLUTELY TINY my lanky, skinny 4 year old looks tonight as she sleeps in the huge bed.  She’s so small and tootsy and it’s a lovely feeling to see her so teeny, rather than looking at how big she’s getting and wishing time would stop.
Silly maybe.
But it makes me happy. 😇
And after the mayhem of rearranging the rooms, The Him took us out for dinner. (I think it was to stop me from moving the coffee machine into the bedroom really.)
Mini-Me ate everything in front of her.
So did I. 🍰
Princess smiled at everyone and battered our Bloke.  (He loved this really.)

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And then we had ice-cream.
So all is now right with the world.
I’m off to pour a glass of grapes.
I do need my 5 a day you know. Must keep the strength up for tomorrow’s kitchen rearranging!
Goodnight S-Folks xx

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I am Smile-and-Nod Mum!

Posted in children, family, parenting, swear words, toddlers, Uncategorized by

People generally dislike swear words.  There’s an unwritten rule that some swear words are worse than others.

The B-words are widely tolerated.  The F-word…not so much.  The C-word? Don’t even go there! Some words are acceptable.   Some are simply not.

It’s like childbirth.  It’s okay to say certain things to a new Mamma. And there are some things you SHOULD NEVER SAY…and yet people usually do.

On the other side of things, there are responses that new mammas would love to say out loud (usually with some of the aforementioned expletives carefully inserted!)…and yet they usually don’t.

So here are just a few such things that I’ve heard recently… to which mostly, my response was to politely smile/laugh/nod.  But what I was really thinking usually contained expletives. Shock Horror!

  1.  “Oh you had a section?” (Usually accompanied by an expression of either sympathy or disapproval.)        Yes. I had a section.  It’s the most fun thing in the world ever! (*Sarcasm… see previous post “I am Section Mum.”
  2. “How’s your scar healing?”    Fabulously thank you.  How’s your vagina doing?
  3. “Sure the second section is much easier than the first.”                 Is it really? My body obviously didn’t get that particular memo.
  4. “You shouldn’t be up and about so quickly.”    OK.   You’re so right.  I’ll tell the toddler look after herself. What am I thinking!?
  5. “Oh? You’re not breastfeeding?”  (There’s that look again.  Its becoming quite frequent.)           No.  I’ve made a decision to not give my baby the best start in life.  I’m a selfish failure and I deserve your disapproval and judgement.  Thanks for that.
  6. “You’re not going back to the gym already surely? Sure there’s nothing wrong with you!” (Yep…there’s that look again!)         Yes.  I am, because I enjoy training and I want to. It’s as simple as that.  Last week I actually replied “God yes. I need to lose at least 4 stone.”  That’s an exaggeration, but it was worth it to see the look of disapproval morph into one of utter disgust.
  7. “OMG! I didn’t expect to see you out so soon! You’re some Doll!” (Expression of disapproval added to at sight of very large glass of wine in my hand.)          I’m so sorry if my decision to venture away from my baby for a few hours makes you uncomfortable. It actually took a lot of nerve, encouragement from Hubby and support of my friends to get here tonight… but all you see is the wine.
  8. “Where’s the baby tonight?”   At home with the Dog of course…where else?
  9. You’re OK leaving the baby with her Daddy? (Yup…cue that expression again!)  Erm… is this a trick question? YES!!! He is afterall, her Daddy? He did make half of her and he’s just as entitled to (Shock Horror!) look after her all by himself as I am!
  10. “Is Daddy babysitting?”  Noooooooo…. Daddy is looking after his daughters while Mammy does the shopping/has a coffee/pops to town for an hour. He is not hired or paid by the hour.  I do not feel the need to leave snacks on the coffee table or to go through her routine before I leave.  He’s as (Shock Horror!) able to care for her as I am.

I could go on.

Yes, most of these things were said with the greatest of good intentions, but still.  They were said…in some cases by numerous people.

I’m sure I could add more.  I’m sure many of you could add your own.  It’s a terrible thing to be judged, (intentionally or not), especially by other mummies, but the easiest thing to do is to smile and nod and remember that you can say as many swear words in your head as you like, and no one can judge you for that!

I am Smile-and-Nod Mum.

 

 

I am Six-weeks-and-snuffly Mum

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by

I’ve just realised that a six week old with a head cold is possibly one of the worst feelings in the world… for both baby and parent.

With Mini-Me into her third round with the nasty viral flu that’s been plaguing Donegal’s homes for the past few months, it was inevitable that Princess would pick up some version of it.  She’s been threatening us with the odd sneeze and little cough for a few days, but this morning, she woke up as a Snufflupogus, with weeping eyes and all.

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And it’s horrible.

My friend has always been unable to tolerate snoots up noses.  She’s the kind of person who will squeeze a blackhead, even if it’s on someone else’s nose!  She picks at her kids constantly; they never have a snoot stuck in a nostril or a piece of sleep in their eyes. She’s even quite happy to pick at other people’s kids.  I kid you not.
And for years, I have teased her about it.

But tonight, I am very tempted to ring her to ask what type of snotter busting device she’d recommend for the detraction of those bad boys hidden deepest in the nostril.  I’d happily drive an hour to the nearest 24 hour store to source the clever contraption than sucks up the snot.  But I seriously doubt that a simple fix exists that can be used on a perfect little six week old snout.

And so we just have to perservere with cuddles and tissues.  Every sneeze brings with it another gloopy lump of gunk and a few minutes of ease for Snufflepants.  She’s currently cuddled up of top of Daddy, making all sorts of grumbly, snottery grunts.  She sounds like Miss Piggy.

And in fairness, I think it’s upsetting him more than it’s bothering her.

Mini Me is also dosed, but at least she can tell us how she’s feeling and understands that she’ll get better.  We can give her medicine to ease the discomfort, and most importantly, when we hold a tissue to her snottery nostrils, she now blows through her nose rather than through her mouth!

So it’s not quite as dramatic as the tiny one’s sniffles.  And really, that ‘s not even that dramatic, because realistically, she has a good old fashioned head-cold.  It’s minor in the larger scheme of things.  She’ll be fine.   But that doesn’t mean that Mammy and Daddy don’t grimace every time she sneezes.  We want to pull all of the offending gunk out of her little sinuses so that she can breathe easily again.  We’d both swap places with her in a heart beat.  Because that’s what parents do.

Things might be snottery and sticky, but they could always be worse.

Now, I must go text my friend to see if she’ll come for tea tomorrow.  You never know what snot busting tricks she’ll be able to show me!!

I am Six-weeks-and-snuffly Mum.

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I am Slowly but Surely Mum

Posted in parenting, Uncategorized by

 

Well, she’s arrived.

We were blessed with another beautiful little princess just over 2 weeks ago, and she’s just perfect.

Mini-mini-me was born by elective C-section and we’re happily enjoying getting into some sort of routine at home.   It’s been a crazy few weeks and it really is true what they say…slowly does it.

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The suggestion of another section by my consultant had caused me great disappointment.  At 32 weeks, I was told that Baby was very big, already weighing almost 5lbs, and considering my previous section, it would be safer to have an elective section.  After a few days, I conceded that if the consultant said I needed one, then I would listen.

I had honestly wanted to try a natural delivery this time around.  On my way to the hospital the day before, I was nervous. I was terrified that I would have the section and the baby would weigh only 6 or 7lb, and that I would have put myself through surgery unnecessarily.  And despite my very strong feelings about all things Sectioned (see I am Section Mum!), I was worried that I would look silly; that I’d be seen as Too Posh to Push.

Why I was in any way concerned about what people would think of me, I don’t know. But I was.

The experience was just as calm and controlled as I remembered the first one to have been.  Hubby and I were much more nervous this time; probably as we knew exactly what was ahead of me.  A huge difference was that Hubby and Baby were allowed to stay with me in recovery this time.  Last time, I was lying on my own for over an hour, looking manically at a photograph of the baby.  This time, Baby was snuggled on my chest until it was time to return to the ward, with himself right by my side.

As it happens, my consultant made the right call and I’m so glad that I listened to her.

Our second little Princess arrived in the world, ten days early, and weighed in at a tiny 9lb 6oz!  My uterus had been stretched to dangerous extent and had I gone to due date and tried a “proper” birth, things could have been very different.

I got out of hospital on Day 4 which in hindsight, was way too early.  What people don’t consider is that when someone has their appendix out,  they are sent home to rest and  recuperate. Post section, you instantly have a little person to care for, and regardless of the supports you have in place, going home is terrifying.  And when you have other kids at home, sitting with your feet up is impossible.

Throw into the mix a mammy and big sister with chest infections, a Daddy who is trying so hard to be everything to everyone that he pretty much keels over with exhaustion, the post-natal hormones and tears, and the post-surgery pains and restrictions, and you have… the most fun EVER!

Thankfully, the little Princess is an angel.  She’s a very chilled out baby and loves to sleep (so far!) and so the new baby was actually the least stressful thing in the house for the first week.  And now, thanks to lots of antibiotics, multivitamins and a freezer pre-stocked with dinners, our little family is bouncing back and able to finally enjoy the build up to Christmas with our little Christmas pudding and her beautiful Big sis.

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The moment two children became sisters

Every shower brings a little bit of this S-Mum back to herself.

Every day brings its new experiences and joys.

Every snuffly  grumble from Baby and every kiss from Mini-Me brings a joy that can’t be measured.

It’s been slow, but it surely is worth every single second.

I am Slowly, but Surely Mum.

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I am Soon to be Mum…again!

Posted in family, Uncategorized by

Well it’s almost time.

The hospital bags are packed and in the car.

The to-do lists are almost all done.

The house has been wrecked and cleaned to the point that one would be forgiven for assuming that we’re hosting a Station Mass.

The Husband is exhausted (well, he thinks he is!) and the Mini-me is bouncing off the walls with excitement.

And me?

I’m absolutely bricking it.

I think that even after nearly 10 months of being pregnant, (tell me please where the magic number 9 came from?), it only hit me that there’s an actual baby arriving when I opened the box of baby clothes last week to begin washing.  When I lifted the first little vest out of the “0-3 neutral” box, my heart almost stopped.

To me, my Mini-Me is still a baby.  She’s almost 4 and taller than most 5 year olds, but she’s my wee baby.  She’s in pre-school and growing more independent by the day, but she’s only a baby…to me.

As I emptied the little vests and babygrows, I was thrown back in time and could clearly see her brand new little self, dressed in each outfit.  I could even remember the first time she wore some of the outfits;  the oooohs! and aaaahs! of family members when they saw the little outfits on her; how I felt all grown up dressing my real-life Dolly in the adorable pieces.  And it stirred up a barrage of emotions that I really don’t have the words for.

Mini-me is excited about being a Big Sister.  She has been practicing on dolls and we talk about the new baby all the time.  Baby Bubba, (as she calls my belly), is coming to live with us soon.  And while she can’t wait, I’m terrified as she doesn’t quite understand what’s ahead of her.

No longer will she be the absolute, single and only centre of our world.  No longer will the bedtime routine be all about her.  No longer will I be able to read three bedtime stories just because I can.

She’s going to have to learn a whole new set of skills; how to share, how to wait until Mammy or Daddy are able to give her attention; how to be the Big Sister.

big sis1

In one of my hormonal snotfests recently, I admitted to Hubby that my biggest fear is not being able to be mammy to both of my babies.  I’m more afraid of Mini-Me feeling left out or unloved, than I am of giving birth.

I’m afraid of how she’s going to cope while I’m in hospital.  I’m dreading her being told that it’s time to go home at the end of visiting hours.  I’m terrified that she’s going to decide that we’re not keeping the baby! (I have it on authority from another S-Mum that this can happen…)

I’m petrified that she’s going to, at some point, have to stand back and watch another little person getting the attention that she’s always had the monopoly on.

In short, I’m just bloody terrified.

And yet, rational me knows that she’s not the first child to become a big sister.

I’m the eldest of 6 and at no point in my life have I ever felt any of the things that I’m worried she’ll feel.  Having younger brothers and sisters has made me me. It has enriched my life and continues to provide fun every day, even in adulthood!  The companionship and certainty of friendship that siblings provide can never be measured and I know that Mini-me will thrive.

She’s going to be just fine.

big sis2

But that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to worry.

I’m pregnant.  I’m emotional.  I’m probably a little teensy bit crazy, but I’m allowed to be.  I’m allowed the odd melt down.  I’m allowed to succumb to absolutely irrational notions that randomly pop into my head.  And anyone who wants to dismiss my fears as nonsense, is either very brave or very foolish. (Or they’ve never experienced being 28 months pregnant!)

And along side all of this crazy, I’m excited.  I can’t wait to finally meet the little munchkin who has been battering my insides so beautifully.  I can’t wait to see if the name we’ve chosen suits.  I can’t wait to see if there’s resemblance to Mini-Me.  I can’t wait to hear their little voice for the first time.  I can’t wait to see Mini-me’s face when she sees a real baby!  (I can’t wait to see my own toes and to no longer have cramps in my arse cheek every 45 minutes…but that’s a whole other post!)

Holding the vest reminded me that inside this abnormally HUMONGOUS and very uncomfortable bump, my next Mini is getting ready to come join in the madness of our home.  They too will wear the little vests and they too will stamp all over our hearts with their tiny wee feet.  They will love the Big Sister unconditionally and will be loved in return.

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And I can not wait.

I am Soon-to-be Mum. 🙂

 

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