Two

Before you arrived I could not imagine what life would be like with you in it. I sit here now and cannot remember whether there was an actual 'life' before you - I know it must have been more than merely existing as I have fond memories of events gone by.  There has been one solitary morning where I have woken up without seeing you and the only word I can use to describe it is bereft.

Another twelve months have gone by and we have forged a stronger bond than we had previously.  We have had many a milestone moment and your Mummy, I, has shed a happy tear at each one.  As the words start to come easier to you our understanding of one another improves - this has also meant that you are able to communicate your wants, needs and desires as well as "No". We have the tantrums which are only just beginning but we are learning.  Mummy has a constant voice that whispers in her ear that you are learning, constantly learning right now and so needs to learn to be patient, ever patient.  It has been a steep learning curve for Mummy and right now I am learning about me too.

At 2 you are a boy.  You love the outdoors - simple things like running up and down a hill will have your Daddy and I stood for many a minute waiting for you to tire.  You have inherited Mummy's observer characteristics and your Daddy's lack of fear, fun and ability for sport.  There is the kicking, throwing and catching of balls.  The jumping on and off everything possible has my heart in my mouth every time but I am also aware that you need to be confident in how your body can and will work.  It makes Mummy much happier now that you bend your knees as you land!

Munch's second birthday!

You love horses.  We know not why but they mesmerise you.  We are lucky to live not far from paddocks and stables and so a trip to see the 'horsies' is an easy one.  You love spying aeroplanes high in the sky and can often spot them before we do.  You saw a helicopter at nursery once and since then have pointed to the sky searching for a 'copter'.  The pace at which you are learning has Mummy doing her own frantic homework - time spent trawling across the internet looking for ways to help you discover and learn about the world around you.  Trying hard to make sure that we help develop your creative side that is so alien to both your parents. 

Your favourite foods change all the time but firm favourites are most definitely noodles, rice, sweetcorn and chickpeas.  You are still drinking only water and milk but now using a cup/beaker which you prefer to either be pink or blue.  We have spent time baking and making food together now that you are a little older but you are eager to help Mummy chop. 

You have a strong character developing - the determined, stubborn streak that both Daddy and I possess is there already.  We are both mindful that you do not develop the negatives that can come with that.  You are full of energy, love to dance and sing, love your books and music but most of all you are having the childhood that both Daddy and I have worked hard to make sure you have.  One filled with fun and happiness, security and love, along with a growing independence as you take your steps along your journey.

As I write this I will not know if we have done right by you until many years have passed.  The one thing I do hope you will come to understand is that all that we have done so far and all the things that are to come have been considered and done out of love.  You are loved more than we thought it possible to love and for that I thank you.

Today and always, we love you.

Changing faces

I wrote about my vitiligo a few months ago and thought it time for an update.  The area around my mouth has spread further but I am no longer at that angry, shocked state that I was in then.  The tears that were shed at the beginning no longer flow - I guess in a small way I have come to accept that this is going to be me for the rest of my days so there really is no point in my being upset for the long term.

1.  There really isn't the time for me to wallow in my own self pity.  The toddler that is Munch sees that I am firing on all cylinders from the moment he wakes right up to the moment his head hits the pillow and there is that peaceful sleepy breathing.

2.  There are plenty more worse off than I am and if they can face each day with a smile and the strength that I admire then so can I.

The last time I truly shed tears was during my visit to a beauty counter to get make up advice.  It didn't matter what the make up artist said, or what Sprout said for that matter - for me it mattered that I could still see where the pigmentation no longer was even with make up on.  It is hard to explain how it has picked holes in my self confidence, it is the little things like turning my face away from people when they look at me or the slight hiding of the bottom half of my face when talking and people are looking directly at me.  Chances are others cannot see - helped by my fringe and geek chic glasses so the attention is drawn away from the bottom half of my face.  But inside I am acutely aware and although more accepting in what is happening am still petrified to what is to come when it comes to reactions of others.

There was a point in this here long journey where I could feel that I was losing hold of myself.  Was it time to admit that I needed help in coping as I was sinking into this pit that was all consuming?  As I sit here and write this I realise that the feelings were the same as those when I first had Munch.  That mourning for a me that was changing and evolving.  Sounds vain but it is the only way I can describe it.

My doctor's appointment ended up with blood tests to check for any problems with my thyroid, diabetes and cortisol.  They all came up clear and so I found myself back at the doctors to discuss my next steps.  I know my doctor very well and work with him in a professional capacity so it was a frank and open discussion about what he could offer and for me to tell him what I would prefer to do next.  There were light therapy treatments that ideally needed 50-100 sessions for some or no improvement.  I do not have that sort of time to commit to treatment in that way and in all honesty I would be heartbroken after the 100 sessions if nothing had happened.  To hang my hopes onto that - I am not sure I am strong enough to do that especially as it is not a life threatening condition.

There are steroid creams but that does not appeal to me.  I currently cover up using normal make up and I wholeheartedly thank the lady from the bottom of my heart for being so kind when she helped me and for not making me feel a total idiot for breaking down in front of her.  So, when it spreads across my face to the point where I can no longer cover it myself I will ask to be referred to the dermatology department at a nearby hospital.  It was empowering to know that I made my decisions as to where I want to go next with this.

There's the applying sunscreen every day to protect my skin that is no hardship, the makeup takes all of 5 minutes if not less these days and to be honest all my fears so far are in my head.  I watch the vitiligo slowly get bigger but its progress is slow so the only person that notices it happening is me.  I keep smiling and going about my days as normal - life goes on.

Charity

For some their chosen charity supports cancer research, for others it's for children, for Sprout and I it is Group B Strep support.

Normally, Group B Strep (GBS) is a harmless bacteria but can be passed to newborns around childbirth.  It can be very serious if the baby then develops GBS infection.  Taken from the GBSS site,

"In newborn babies, there are two types of GBS disease: early and late-onset.  Roughly 75% of GBS disease is early-onset, occurring in the first 6 days of life and usually apparent at birth. Early-onset GBS disease is normally characterised by the rapid development of breathing problems, associated with blood poisoning. Late-onset disease - which usually presents as GBS meningitis - occurs after the baby is 6 days old and, normally, by age 1 month but, rarely, up to age 3 months. After age 3 months, GBS infection in babies is extremely rare.

GBS is a recognised cause of preterm delivery, maternal infections, stillbirths and late miscarriages.
Preterm babies are known to be at particular risk of GBS infection as their immune systems are not as well developed as those of full-term babies.

Overall, without preventative medicine, GBS infections affect an estimated 1 in every 1,000 babies born in the UK. Each year, based on 700,000 babies born annually in the UK, approximately:

• 230,000 babies are born to mothers who carry GBS; 88,000 babies (1 in 8) become colonised with GBS; 700 babies develop GBS infections, usually within 24 hours of birth; and
• 75 babies (11% of infected babies) die.

Of the survivors of GBS meningitis, up to one half suffer long-term mental and/or physical problems, from mild to severe learning disabilities, loss of sight, loss of hearing and lung damage (in around 12% of the survivors, the disabilities may be severe). The great majority of survivors of early-onset disease do so with no long-term damage. "

It was by pure chance that we discovered I was GBS positive.  A urinary tract infection during pregnancy followed by swabs and further investigation was how we found out.  There was a sticker placed on my maternity notes to make sure I was given antibiotics during labour and a leaflet.  No counselling or explanation and as first time parents we were shocked. Throughout pregnancy we were given information to make informed decisions be it relating to scans, tests, pain control etc etc but GBS was not mentioned anywhere.  One leaflet and a sticker.  Really?

We turned to GBSS and got all the answers we needed to understand the whys and wherefores.  They provided us with the all important peace of mind as to what happens next that expectant parents need.  I got the antibiotics during labour and to this day am forever grateful that we understood how important they were.  I cannot imagine how it feels for a new parent to lose their precious baby to GBS infection and learn after the fact that they may have been able to do something about it.  GBSS work tirelessly to educate and support health professionals and families until such time that testing and information is the norm as part of the antenatal care package here in the UK.

You may wonder what my point is.  The beloved Sprout and I get married on 7th June and are using our wedding to raise awareness and donations.  There is no wedding list, no gifts that we want or need; we are lucky enough to have all that we require and a little boy that is healthy, happy and brings us joy that we never dreamed.  We look to raise money to help others in the hope that they too experience the heaven that is our world.  Yes,  I am being cheeky and asking you to donate.

Text ASHM76 £1 to 70070

Should you be kind enough to want to donate more simply change the value.

From the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

Face value

Slowly, ever so slowly I have noticed a change to my face since having had Munch.  It started as though I had sunburn around my lips and I gave it not much thought even though I am not prone to burning at all.  I put it down to a change in hormones and carried on as normal.  The change has crept up without me realising until this past month.  The pigment from my skin is slowly but surely vanishing in an ever increasing area spreading outwards from around my lips. I've never been one to pay that much attention to my face other than to make sure I moisturise but this has unnerved me.


It is my face.  It is the part of me that people look at and see every day.  It is my identity in part and watching the colour slowly leave parts of my skin has rocked my confidence.  My brain tells me that in an ideal world it shouldn't matter how I look but part of me is struggling to deal with the change that will keep coming.  How far and how fast will this loss of colour go?  How are those around me going to react?  How will I deal with their reactions?  How will it affect my son growing up?  Do I cover it up or do I wear it strong and proud and set about to educate those that don't understand it?


For now, I am slowly coming to terms with the condition that is changing my face - vitiligo.  It is one where the melanocytes, which are responsible for giving skin its colour, become damaged or destroyed and result in the skin turning white in patches.  I have an appointment with my doctor to discuss my options but for now I am using makeup to cover it up.  In all my adult years I have never thought to put a face on.... until now.  Well, not even a full face but just enough to cover the patches that exist right now.  I am not ready in myself to deal with any comments and questions from strangers, or even friends, so I am 'hiding' until I am stronger.  The tears flow freely as I sit and write this.  This is my reality, it is not one I ever imagined, it is not life threatening yet having it upsets me that I have cried many tears this week.


I had a total stranger say to me,  "What's wrong with your face?" at work this week.  That comment triggered something in me and once home I sobbed in a blubbering heap on Sprout.  That day made my vitiligo real and since then my heart and brain have been attempting to deal with the knowledge.  I am fearful and anxious of what the future brings - there will come a time when I accept the changes that are to come graciously and with ease but I'm working towards that.  My face is only a minor part of who I am.  I just need to have faith that people will be able to look past my face and see the person I am. 

Month seventeen

We now have a seventeen month old on our hands.  Where does the time go I ask you?

In the past month he has gotten himself a favourite toy.  The smile that lights up Munch's face is enough to melt even the coldest of hearts when he spies his monkey.  Munch hasn't grasped the word monkey so calls him Teddy which at times can sound a lot like Daddy much to Sprout's confused ears!  He talks to Teddy, dances with him, throws him about a bit and both sit in my lap listening to their bedtime story.  Munch has never taken to soft toys until this past month but it's the most adorable thing - maybe one of the many adorable things he does.

Munch is proving to be a chatterbox albeit a lot of toddler speak right now.  We can have a full blown conversation about who knows what but he gets his say alright.  Everywhere we go he will say "Hiya!" to anyone walking by and only gets louder if he doesn't get one back.  There are more new words such as chair, cow, moo, step, tap, dog, box, bath time, more, go and no.  There are the beginnings of stringing of words - who's this, what's that, where gone.  His latest word taught by Sprout was goal - Daddy is very pleased of course. 

The one word that caught me off guard was Mummy.  I think of that moment now and my response is the same.  Tears prick from behind my eyes and roll down my face - will I remember it like that forever I wonder?  The emotion that one solitary word can conjure leaves me with no words.  One of the most amazing moments so far.  I should invest in some tissue company now as I cannot imagine how long I will be sobbing with happiness for when he tells me he loves me.  

Munch is turning into a little helper.  He has some strange obsession with the vacuum cleaner, to the extent where he will express his frustration by throwing a tantrum when I am attempting to vacuum and he wants to do it instead.  We have now got him his own toy cleaning trolley complete with vacuum cleaner.  It worked a treat as Sprout was able to vacuum with Munch helping him using his toy.  Everyone was happy!  He is loving putting things away and tidying up at the moment, I'm hoping this is a sign that we will not be tidying up after him in years to come. 

He still seems far too small to be running around but he loves inclines.  He will merrily run up and down, up and down, up and down for as long as his legs will carry him.   At one stage he would fall asleep in the car and promptly wake up the minute we arrived home then fight his nap.  We have now fallen into a routine where he naps for a couple hours every day and is in bed by 8pm.  He sleeps straight through the majority of the time and I have even gotten used to waking in mine and Sprout's bed again.  Munch wakes around 7am although this past week we seem to be getting up earlier. Actually, thinking about it, he has been asking for bath time earlier too.  It would seem he is preparing for the clocks to go forward at the end of the month!

This seventeenth month has also bore witness to Munch self weaning from breastmilk.  We have followed his lead when it comes to development and this is another one of those.  It is an odd feeling as there seemed to be little warning that we were heading this way.  Or maybe I was hoping that it would take longer than it has.  I will miss it but know it is just another step in him growing up.  Who knew we'd get this far?  I was ready to pack it in around month three but my sheer pigheadedness has gotten us here.   The journey has been an emotional one for sure.

His character is forming more and more every day.  He is an observer of everything around him.  He is caring, considerate, fun loving and has dare devil tendencies.  He is a friendly, loving soul and if he continues in this vain is going to break many a heart I can tell.  So much has happened since my last post, what will change from now until my next?

Pushing forwards

I waved goodbye to 2012 with great gusto.  It was a year that taught me much about myself but also much about those around me.  There were times where I could not see further than the three hour blocks of a newborn, there were others where being tired took on a whole new meaning.  These are now replaced by looking forward to the times when Munch has a nap and to those where he exhibits his pure brilliance in comic timing at the tender age of fifteen months.  He has a talent I'm telling you!

We start 2013 with the knowledge that we have a wedding to finish planning. I am currently very grateful that my vision of Munch walking me down the aisle is set to become reality as he is a steady little soul on his feet right now.  The only doubt is whether it is going to be walking or dragging of Mummy dearest down the aisle - mental note to self, maybe heels will not be a good idea!  That and whether he will spend it waving and saying hello to everyone that we pass on our way. 

Am I going to diet at all? No idea. I never really have and am not sure I possess the will power when it comes to food. I would much rather put myself in a dress that fits than try and get myself to fit into one in all honesty.  I'm testing the whole Sprout will love me regardless of whether I look like the back end of a bus or not theory.  Maybe I will miraculously turn into the perfect hourglass using some spandex wonder undergarment instead.  For me, it's not about my dress but about the two of us and sharing that with our family and closest friends.

Munch has now mastered the 'Hello' in addition to 'Hiya'.  We got a 'please' once but more often than not it is 'peese' and he can sign it - it's very similar to blowing a kiss mind.   With the mountain of new toys that arrived in the form of Christmas presents came new storage ideas and our newest game which has become our firm favourite - yes, you've guessed it. Gold star to you in the middle! Yes, the tidy up game.  We have gone from taking turns in putting toys away to Munch surprising us and becoming grand master at it by 2013.  I thought I mastered new things quickly but by jove he puts me to shame.   He's showing us that he understands the order of certain events and the whole bedtime routine is now even easier.  Munch will pull his socks off and once he's naked he will put his clothes in the wash basket and then totter off towards the bathroom squealing with delight.  It's as though another switch inside that brain of his has been tripped and there's a whole new world of learning. 

He leaves us open mouthed many a time with the things that he shows us.  One of his favourite books is 'Incy, Wincy spider'; it plays the tune and has buttons that make different sounds and he'll pick it off his shelf and get us to sing it over and over.  The other day we had been singing it quite a few times and I said to him, " Bring Mummy the Wheels on the Bus book please".  We'd never asked him but up he got and walked to the bookshelf.  Sprout's expression said it all. Munch had got the actual book and was coming back with it. Wow, just wow!  We've always been amazed at the rate at which he learns but recently it's gone into a higher gear and we're in constant awe.  In our eyes Munch is a genius of a little boy.

He will dribble a ball across the room much to his father's delight.  I know little about football but apparently he is a natural Sprout keeps telling me.  I was far more impressed when nursery told us that he'd been helping tidy up and wanting to vacuum. Munch doesn't express a preference for specific toys; some days it is books, others fire engines and cars but he seems to have the most fun with DVDs, remote controls, Daddy's phone, a balloon and the laundry baskets.  Who needs toys?

2012 taught me that my perspective on life had shifted.  My head is in a stronger place and my answer to something I caught on television the other day - "What do you want your children to inherit?"

My response? "A passion for life."

May 2013 bring us all a wealth of smiles and memories. Thanks for reading!

Fourteen months

Life seems to have taken over and run away with itself these past few months although I do wonder whether that is just me making excuses as to my lack of blogging.  Time becomes increasingly precious and it is such a fine balancing act that some things have been neglected completely.  This, I assure you, has not been for lack of subject matter that I have wanted to write about but more due to my dire time management skills it seems.

Munch is now fourteen months old and he becomes this ever more forceful presence in our lives as his personality and sense of self develops.  Yes, gone is the babe in arms, gone is the being that listened when you called his name or said no - instead we have this loving, playful little boy that tests those invisible boundaries every day in the name of learning and discovery.  I have gone from the stay at home mum to the full timer that snatches precious minutes with her son and wanting to make the most of all days off.  My reality is that every so often I am praying for the return to work for the break; at work I can operate on auto-pilot and there is a rhythm that sits well with my personality. 

Since starting nursery Munch has been subjected to the sharing that is childhood illness. It was expected but it has seemed an endless cycle of colds, coughs and then there was the vomiting bug that struck and which he kindly shared with me and Sprout.  Our first family illness - hurrah!  It was awful, truly awful; being a parent cannot stop when you yourself are ill regardless of how sorrowful you may be feeling.  I don't want to have that shared experience ever again if possible.  Munch's illness has always taken hold on my days off which has meant they have been spent with a cranky little boy.  Throw into the mix the teething that is neverending and it has taken its toll on my patience - only the other week I turned to Sprout and told him I was seriously reconsidering reducing my hours next year.  I know it's a phase that his developing body is going through but it upset me so much that he was always fine when going to nursery but not when we were off together. I remind myself it's not always going to be rosy!

I am afraid to have to admit that I often question whether I could ever be a full time stay at home mum.  Sometimes the run of three consecutive days off work makes me want to cry as I realise that I do not have the patience, energy or know how as to how the stay at home parents manage the role 24/7.  Personally, I function better as a mother and person having that break away from Munch - does that make me a bad mother?  I feel as though my mothering qualities are not all there because of this but I know I would be hanging by a thread if things were different.

We had the excitement of going to get Munch's first shoes. That first visit ended with no shoes as his feet were not big enough!  Fast forward another few weeks and we handed over our hard earned money for the tiny shoes to be advised that he would need his feet measuring in another six to eight weeks. What?  No wonder it costs however many thousands to bring up a child is all I can say!  He now toddles about in the house and at nursery without hesitating; try putting him on his feet outside and he reverts back to the trusty crawl at the hint of danger - this is a work in progress indeed.

He is attempting to copy words we say now.  His vocabulary is growing in fits and starts but we are very proud that he has mastered "Ta"; manners maketh the man and all that.  He has dad, daddy, mama, duck, fish, shoes, sock, toes, toast, hiya, tickle, who's that, what's that and yes so far.  Munch babbles away and picks up different sounds all the times but is less than impressed with our understanding so Mummy and Daddy have some catching up to do.  It has been truly amazing how he learns and we constantly wonder how on earth the children of the world do it.  If I was to learn all the things they have to as an adult you would find me hiding under the covers in bed throwing a tantrum!

He giggles at the strangest things - the words mushroom and penguins no less.  I have no explanation but maybe he'll explain it to me one day.  We went through a period of Munch hating his bath times which lasted a couple of weeks and now we are back to him having fun in it. So much fun that he scoots to the farthest side away from us when it's time to get out!  He kicks his legs, tries to drink the water and stomps on the spot with a huge grin on his face.  It is a grin that is slowly filling with those pearly whites, he has four top and bottom now and my fingers have gone nowhere in that mouth for fear of having my fingers bitten off.  It is still safe to pop a finger down the side to check for molars but not for much longer I think.

Fourteen months our precious little boy has been in our home and what a journey it has been.  As Christmas approaches it is the family time we get to spend that is appealing. Am I ready?  Shhhh, I haven't even got one present yet and am in denial right now.  What have/haven't I done?

Until next time. Thank you for reading my waffle!

366 days of Munch

 So, today our Munch will have been with us for a whole three hundred and sixty-six days - this is excluding the period spent lodging in my belly of course.

This day has arrived far quicker than either of us could ever have imagined and it has gotten more and more exciting as the day approached.  What do we do to celebrate this milestone?  We are marking today by spending it together as a family for it is the exact same number of days since we became one.  There will be celebrations held more for the benefit of us adults than for him once the weekend arrives.  The chances of Munch remembering his first birthday celebrations are very, very slim but as parents we will remember this day forever just as we do the day he arrived. (Should you like to read Munch's birth story you'll find it here, if you'd like Sprout's take on events you can read his here.)

Three hundred and sixty-six days of new experiences and changes and this is just the beginning.  We have both made our way through the maze of parenting and have survived with one child in possession of all limbs intact - phew, so far so good!  There have been no dropping of child incidents,  thankfully only one explosive poo episode and so far no vomit.  *touches wood and crosses everything possible*  We have had many an adult discussion when it comes to our parenting choices and in the main we have been in agreement or have come to sensible compromises for the sake of Munch.  Yes, we could both be stubborn but then that only takes away the enjoyment that is our little boy.

This first year as a Mum has been a roller coaster of emotions but the one that has run throughout is the sheer happiness our little bundle brings.  In the early days it was the grasping of my finger and the ability to sleep in my arms; today it is the toothy, beaming smile he gives which makes my heart shine with the love I have for our little boy.  I am sure if you cut the cells in my body and peeked at them under a microscope you would see an image of Munch in each and every one.  He has permeated through all aspects of my life and his presence is undeniable.  Munch gives me a new perspective on all things and so changes have been made where necessary.  He teaches me everyday what unconditional love is and how, as parents, we do everything because of it.

I'd be lying if I said that it has been full of birds singing and bright flowers as it hasn't at times.  The not so happy moments become an increasingly distant memory as my brain uses its space to keep the more precious ones permanent and this happens ever faster as Munch grows and develops into his own person.  There are so many memories already but my most precious?  The one of Sprout and I with arms around each other at roughly 2.30am looking down at our sleeping son who had arrived a little over 8 hours previous.  We had made this beautiful little boy and he really was ours to love and care for .... always.  He was real, our family was real, it was no longer just a dream.

Time Flies

Wow!  Where has the time gone?  It's been a good two weeks since I've had chance to sit and blog and it's frightening how quickly time seems to be passing by.  The past month has been a blur,  what with settling in visits at nursery for Munch and then my phasing back into work.  We are getting used to our new routines and so far, touch wood, I've not been late for work yet - phew! I do hate tardiness so it would've have wound me up if I had been.

Nursery has brought with it a mixture of emotions.  The first few visits were hard; I'd spent ten months in Munch's company and all of a sudden I had hours, then half days and finally full days without him. I felt lost and bewildered which made returning to work my escape.  I cannot abide being on my own - I never have and I don't think I ever will; when left to my own devices I need things to occupy me or my choice is to sleep to pass the time quickly if that makes sense.  Munch took to nursery very well, extremely well even.  He bonded with his carer and got to play all day with other children which he thoroughly enjoyed.  The change has been made easier as we haven't had to worry about him as much as we imagined.  Yes, there are a few tears as he was/is dropped off in the morning but these are short lived.  He has changed so much since being in constant contact with others.  He learns from them and comes home with new expressions and skills which never fail to amaze us and make us smile.

My return to work was smoother than expected and after a good couple of weeks of phasing in I will return to full time work next week.  My mornings are not very different other than my being aware of the clock to ensure we all get out of the house on time.  The early starts are more welcome as it is these hours which give me my main contact with Munch on work days.  The early feeds and that morning smile more than make up for the fact that I have probably woken sometime past 6.30am only a handful of times these past eleven months.  My life after work is tough going though.  By the time I get home from work Munch and Daddy have eaten and the bedtime routine is fast approaching. I normally snatch half an hour play and then bath, book and bed beckon - this has meant that I'm eating my evening meal on my own, which is a very strange experience, and it's later than I'd like but hey ho there's little I can do about it.  I would say that I have loved being back at work as it has given me new energy and vigour for the time that I do get to spend with Munch.  I've had the magical experience of a genuinely happy smiley face greet me when I get home; the emotions that beaming face conjures cannot be described using any words I know. 

This month Munch and I will be travelling to York for the Twitter/blogger meet up that I've arranged. This month Munch will turn one.  This month, I will be another year older too.  This month Sprout and I will have been fully fledged parents for a full twelve months.  This month is an extremely busy and exciting one - this time last year I had started maternity leave and was busy sitting on the sofa watching television and had finally succumbed to eating junk.  This time last year I was 'fat' and thanking the heavens I'd made it to September without popping.  What a difference a year makes huh?

Memories of Summer

First off, apologies for being a misery of late.  I've been suffering from the malady that is head up arse and have felt a black cloud covering my world.  I am prone to these from time to time, they creep up on me when change is afoot and envelop me to the point where I'm suffocating under the heavy veil of dark, sombre thoughts.  Change makes me reflect and reflection often carries with it the need to be better.  Anyway, time to step out from the darkness and move forward.

Summer has held little meaning for me since I started working.  I worked, and go back to working, in a place where there are no windows and thus should the end of the world be happening I wouldn't have an inkling.  Come rain or shine it makes no difference, I have the lovely florescent lights that tell me nothing about what time of year it is.

When I was a child we had great summers, in the six week summer holidays we would take day trips once a week to somewhere new.  I am the oldest of five and the five of us would go travelling all over the country.  We would make food to take with us; usually sandwiches, chicken drumsticks, crisps and drinks to see us through the day.  Come early morning my Mum would take us to the train station and see us onto the train before she went to work.  Those were the days when she made sure I carried plenty of ten pence pieces to ring her from the phonebox when we got there and in case we got stuck for whatever reason.  No mobile phones when I was young which gives you an indication of just how old I am.

One time we were hungry before the train left the station and so started diving into the sandwiches once seated.  I remember the guard standing outside watching us with the most amused expression and the five of us waving and grinning like it was the most normal thing to be doing.  When I think back now, my youngest sister could only have been 2 or 3 which made me 13 or 14 at the time, so yes, looking back I can see why he had that expression.

We went to Oxford on a day trip and had been told by our Dad to go visit the college he had attended.   It was quite a distance from the train station but we didn't realise that until our youngest sister complained that she was tired of walking.  Two of us took it in turns to carry and piggyback her for what felt like miles.  We got to the college, peeked through the gates, clicked the camera and that was that; mission accomplished!

If there was a tour bus we would always go on those as it took us to places we couldn't walk to.  It also served the purpose of giving us a rest when we were tired.  There was many a time towards the end of a day where we would be sitting on the bus going round and round the tour loop until it was time to catch the train home.

My second sister's birthday is in August and for her sixth birthday we had a party for her.  My parents had never done the whole birthday party thing so when we were old enough my first sister and I organised a party for her.  We were giving my sister something we never had when we were growing up, we had a party with just the five of us; it is one of the happiest memories from our childhood that we all share.  Sprout has told me often that it is the one moment in time that we have all talked about on separate occasions.  We had saved some money for party food, decorations and even had party bags to make sure her experience was a full one. We had burgers, played games and although other details have been forgotten I know we all had great fun.

All my memories of happy times and fun are always those moments I shared with my siblings.  The five of us are close, very close.  My Mum worked hard to provide the roof over our heads and put food on the table but in doing so she missed these moments but she had no choice.  As a parent myself,  I now look on those times and feel sadness that my own parents didn't play a part in those memories.  With Munch I want to be a part of his most happy memories;  to experience his wonder at discovering new places and to learn from him what it is to see the world anew.

Words

Words - we write them, read them and speak them.  We use them having given much thought and conversely, with no thought whatsoever.  Since becoming a fully fledged Mum with the arrival of Munch I have probably taken many to heart.  I don't know what it is but there have been words thrown in my direction that have either opened the flood gates or really got my defenses up. 

"It's not about you."
"Why don't you give formula?"
"You're making a mistake and you'll change your mind."
"I'm so tired."
"Why don't you do ..... , you have time."
"I go to work."

There are many more that I could add and have been said by all manner of those around me.  I swallow my own words as the torrent of verbal abuse that runs through my brain in the split second that follows is unreal.  If unleashed I know they would cut to the core and I am not one that likes to be hot headed when it comes to using my words, for once they venture forth from my mouth there is no way I can ever take them back and living with regret is not something I like to do.

It often makes me wonder whether people think before they speak.  We all have heat of the moment reactions and Sprout has always said that the words spoken in those moments hold some truth to them.  If this is true, then in my case I don't think much of those around me.  My first reactions are always extreme; my first reactions are always cutting my nose off to spite my face; my first reactions are always viscous, below the belt and I would be an utter bitch in the things I would say.  I know this about myself and stop.  I like to have time to calm down, re-evaluate the situation and think - this usually manifests itself in complete silence on my part, not helpful I know but for me it's better than the alternative.

Words can hurt and leave scars on us all.  I remember the phrases above because they hurt at the time.  They hurt because they showed little thought; little understanding; little compassion; little sensitivity; little tact and little diplomacy.  I am not faultless when it comes to using words.  I am poor in communicating my deepest feelings and often wonder if it is because I am afraid of the reaction once I put them out there.  Maybe I am overly sensitive as a new Mum seeing as my self confidence has taken a dive.   Do all Mums take comments as personal slights?  I need to toughen up and probably tell people to shut up and back off; maybe I need to stop thinking before I speak!

To be a gentleman

For those of you who have read a few of my posts, you may have noticed that I am a worrier.  Being a parent has made me worry more so as I do not want to screw up; I will never be perfect but I try to do my best to give our son the well rounded upbringing that I think is vital to help him succeed in whatever he chooses to do.

I read an article today on raising gentlemen and I agreed with all the qualities the author lists as what they see a gentleman to be in their home.  Towards the end of her article she discusses how she is going to raise her boys to be gentlemen.  The one that has made me write this post is her first point:

"Set a positive example. My boys are fortunate to have a gentleman for a father, but it also means surrounding them with positive male role models. They see their grandfather, uncles, and dear friends as examples of how to live with integrity."

I am sat here thinking and thinking about positive male role models that exist in our son's life.  Men that we come into contact with that we consider to live their lives honestly and with integrity.  Other than Sprout there are very few males in our lives that I want my son to look up to; I can count the many positive male role models we know on one hand!  I look at the males in Munch's life and think to myself, do I want our son to grow up and be like you?  This of course also applies to the females in case you were wondering.

I know that he will come into contact with many people of differing types and that we cannot have 100% control of that.  Some, he will be subjected to because ... well, because they are family and how do you rock that boat?  I cannot stop all contact with some individuals despite the increasing uneasiness I feel as he grows and develops.  How do you ask someone to stop being who they are because you do not want that type of attitude and negativity aimed at and around your child?  I have no idea where I would start that conversation so the option that I am happy with is to limit our son's exposure to it.

So, to start on this journey to raising a gentleman we'll start with two things - honesty and manners.  They cost nothing yet can prove hard to find at times; those are the building blocks we'll start with.  We can only make sure we put the groundwork in but as the quote says, " ...being a gentleman is a matter of choice."  In years to come that choice will be Munch's - we, his parents, will have to wait and see.

The beginning of the lasts

This time next week Munch will have his first settling in session at the nursery that we have chosen for him.  He starts exactly two weeks before my first day back at work; partly for him to get used to his new surroundings and new faces but mostly for me to adjust to being without him.  I am not looking forward to going back and I wrote about my feelings here.

This is my final full week with our dear, beautiful boy until our break in September and as luck would have it, it is this week that our bathroom is being done so we are stuck indoors!  Bah.  Our weekly routine of seeing all grandparents comes to an end as does the time he spends with his cousin.  We are about to deal a real blow to not just ourselves but to those around us too.  We have been in our current routine since the start of the year so we will all have been used to our comings and goings for a full seven months.

The grandparents have watched him grow and develop on a weekly basis; how we are going to fit visits in around us both working, running the house and family time we have not a clue.  How do we strike the balance and keep everyone happy?  The going to work and running a house has me scratching my head in wonder before I've even gone back yet!  In these seven months he has gotten to know his cousin and she him.  The jealous behaviour that we saw at first has been replaced with excitement and happiness when they see one another; the developing of this relationship I will work hard to maintain.  As a child I never got to know my many cousins; they lived on an entirely different continent which hampers things a little,  and so it has made me want to create a close bond between our son and his cousin.  I feel it part of our responsibility to forge the family relationship in these early years; our children can only have such relationships when us as parents work at making the effort and making time for them I believe.

Our weekly baby sensory group stops too.  I have watched him go from being the youngest to now being one of the older members and the time has come to move into the preschool group.  He has gone from being a babe in arms and having to be taken to the quiet area when he became overstimulated, to a mobile baby who is off exploring everything including the younger babies.  I will miss this group very much.  There are three of us Mums and there are but three weeks between our children; we have shared our experiences and watched as the boys interact evermore week on week.  Munch and I will be moving to the preschool group which fits in with my work schedule; they will be going to a different group - will our paths cross again?

Swimming has come to an end just as the little man was getting used to being in the water on his back.  Sprout and I have decided that we will go to the local pool as a family instead.  We will return to lessons once Munch is a little older and understands instructions but for now we want to keep him water confident at the very least. 

We have many lasts this week and are about to experience a raft of new beginnings.  There is trepidation as with any change but there is an air of excitement that exists too; as time ticks by there is a sadness as I say goodbye to this life which has given us both so much comfort,  Munch and I have had an idyllic seven months but we move forwards to pastures new of sorts.  Are we ready?  There are many, many firsts coming our way; we just need to remember to note them all down!

Mimicry

This week Munch will be ten months old; he has now spent more time with us than he spent in the womb, fancy that.  These past few weeks we have been subject to the ever increasing sounds that he adds to his babble and we listen as he starts to string them together.  Munch chatters non-stop; just like his Mum according to his Dad.  *scoffs*

As soon as that first bleary eyed morning feed is out the way Munch and I lie with our heads on the pillow, look at one another and the talking begins.  These first few minutes of our day make me smile no matter how tired my body tells me it feels.  He will adjust his head on said pillow until he is comfy; this in itself makes me want to squeeze him forever and then he tells me about his night.  I ask him questions, he babbles away in the pauses and we carry on talking.  Yes, I know I'm really talking to myself as I have no idea what he is babbling about, but we continue until he starts letting me know that it's time for breakfast.

When Munch is hungry you will find he goes silent, but only until the edge has been taken off.  Then he babbles looking at his food; looking at us and generally talks and talks and talks.  This past week he has been watching our lips more intently and has started to mimic sounds/words.  It started with Grandma clapping her hands and saying, "Yay, yay, yay."  She finished and in the next moment Munch repeated it.  He has never been one to copy anything we do, not even sticking out his tongue in days gone by so it has come as a bit of a surprise.  I can say "Hi" and he will do the same.  Sprout and I have been careful in what we say around him but with this mimicry we need to be even more aware of ourselves.  We don't particularly want his first word to be 'freak' now do we?  We are always calling each other freaks in a loving way of course but even so.

Posing for the camera

 
When we point a camera or our phones in his direction and call his name, he now looks straight into the lens and holds his pose for a few seconds to allow us to take his picture.  Munch is understanding more and more.  The rate at which he demonstrates this understanding is scary indeed! The other night I balanced a toy on Munch's head and asked him not to move so that it wouldn't fall off.  The concentration on his face was impressive.  It was the first time I'd told him not to move yet somehow he seemed to understand.  We did it again, and again he held still.  Now who taught him to do that????  Sprout and I were very confused as to where he got it from and I'll bet it won't be the last thing he'll pick up from someone or somewhere.  We went to a soft play centre recently and there was a little girl shrieking, he watched with interest and when she stopped he started shrieking in response.

So, we are now in this exciting place in his development where we are acutely aware of everything that he comes into contact with, all the more so as he is starting to show an understanding too.  We may walk past each other and give an affection grope of the bottom but I don't want Munch doing that to someone at nursery when he starts there do I?  It's not that we weren't aware previously but with his imitating others things get more complicated don't they?

Did your son/daughter mimic something where you wanted the ground to swallow you up?  Did they come home one day and do something that made you wonder who taught you that? 

 

50 shades of ....

In the distance she heard a murmur.  She listened in earnest with her eyes still closed and heard no more.  A swift movement next to her and the chill of cold air made the skin pucker on her legs with the sensation.  The electric current danced its way up her spine and with eyes still closed she nestled further into the warmth that she knew was awaiting her.  She had missed the warmth and had forgotten its soothing caress; she had wondered the feelings it would arouse as she reacquainted herself with it.  She bid it a loving embrace and she adjusted to a more comfortable position for the both of them.  If she opened her eyes now the moment would be lost and so she kept them firmly shut and allowed the warmth to wash over her and take her prisoner.

Sleep, how I have missed you ; )

Attention

I'm finding that attention is becoming a bone of contention.  I have a specific idea that I hold in my head as to what giving our son attention should be.  For me, it is undivided and given to him without question but from comments that have been passed I wonder if I am getting it wrong. 

"He's very clingy", "He'll find it hard at nursery", "You haven't left him with others enough" .... there are plenty more and you know what?  It makes my blood boil.  Do I rise up to those that say these things to me?  No.  I am at that point where I feel that it is pointless me responding as it only unleashes more hurtful comments which makes me feel utterly helpless, useless and rubbish.

Our son craves more and more play that involves interaction; he is happy to play on his own for a while but is going through that phase where he likes to know we are there and no, that does not mean he is permanently attached to my body!  Why is his natural development not taken as such?  If I had spent nearing ten months in the company of one other person for 99% of that time I wouldn't doubt that I would behave the same.  He adapts to new situations as we all do; he will do it far better as he has no preconceived ideas or notions that we as adults have.  Do I find it strange that he takes time to warm to strangers?  Not at all.  I personally prefer him to be cautious and take his time to get used to new people; I don't treat people I've just met as though we're long lost friends so why should Munch?

Have I pandered to his needs too much?  If he has wanted a cuddle I have given it, when he has been upset I have consoled him, whatever he has needed I have delivered without question.  In making sure he has gotten my undivided attention I thought I was laying the foundations of emotional stability, trust and the confidence to make those independent explorations of the world. 

So why do I get made to feel as though I have given too much?  Why do I get made to feel that I have done wrong by giving him all the attention I have?  Is there such a thing as too much attention?  And why, oh why is this parenting malarkey such a minefield?  I am giving our son what I believe will give him the best start in life, if I am doing him harm through all the attention I shower on him then I'm not sure I understand what being a parent means to some.

The 9 to 5

If there was ever a time I wished my old job was a 9 to 5 one,  it is now.  Before Munch and Sprout,  I was very career driven; my work gave me a focus away from a life that I was not happy living in.  I had made my way onto this, that and the other committee and was making a difference.  In short, I loved my job.

As I sit and write this post, I am faced with four weeks before my phasing back to full-time work begins.  The realisation that I really will be going back has finally hit me and I am trying hard not to panic and keep upbeat.  I look at Munch and know in my heart that he is now craving the interaction of other children.  I see it in his beautiful face every time there are children in our vicinity.  He is ready to become a little more independent and make his first steps into the big wide world of others.  I do not think I am wrong when I say I think he will adapt to the changes better than I.  I spent a morning sorting things out for my return to work and it all felt wrong within thirty minutes.  I have missed being me yet it was alien and didn't quite sit right on my shoulders.  I didn't think it would be that way.  I had convinced myself I would easily switch back to the old me in work mode but I have changed.

I look forward to adult conversation and the oiling of the cogs in my brain.  I'm not looking forward to the long hours which will result in the time I get to spend with our son being an hour a day if I'm lucky.  Actually, the thought of it fills me with dread and makes me want to run and hide.  I was hoping that I would be able to not work weekends; alas that was a dream.  The offer is alternate Saturdays and I will get an additional day off in the week.  OK, not so bad but that doesn't help me in my wanting to keep hold of precious family time - family as in the three of us, not just Munch and me.  To say I am disappointed is an understatement.  I am angry, very angry that my job does not afford me the family time I want us to have.

We will make it work somehow but I will be keeping an eye out for something that suits us better.  The work-life balance is not always easy to get right but our family is now my world and I am willing to forgo the work for a lot more life.*  Who'd have thought?

* Should we win the lottery in the mean time I will not hesitate to quit!  Should you wish to donate to my cause then let me know ; )

The beauty of Twitter

There we are on a Sunday evening and a question crops up regarding the little man.  He is our first; this means we are flying by the seat of our pants when it comes to this parenting thing we find ourselves doing.  The question doesn't warrant A&E or a call to the on-call doctor but the worry, stress and panic builds.  Sprout and I differ in what and how we panic.  Calm I may be but once he starts it becomes infectious and I will head in the same direction shortly after.  I work hard to maintain a calm exterior as there really is no point having two headless chickens about the place.

Who can I ask and hopefully get some kind of answer?  Google was the first port of call; the answers were neither here nor there and didn't fill me with confidence.    How about Twitter?  In our time of needing information I turn to the group of people on my timeline and in less than 140 characters ask my question.  I wait somewhat impatiently and hope that someone responds.

Please?  If I can chat to someone in the very, very early hours of the morning then 8pm on a Sunday should be good right?  Three retweets later and replies start coming in.  This is what I love about Twitter.  Those that offered support and reassurance were kind and sincere in responding to the Mummy that was worrying.  One lovely lady even went so far as to look for an answer and send me a link; I felt overwhelmed at such generosity of spirit and I was truly touched.  The panic subsides as I read that what is happening to Munch is not a curiosity or something to worry unduly about.  I ask more probing questions as is my way and I come away with explanations and understanding.

To think, I joined Twitter at the start of the year as a way to keep myself from falling asleep during the night feeds.  In a mere seven months,  I have gotten to know a whole group of people; some from places I've never heard of; some that I may never meet face-to-face but I feel a sense of belonging and community that I've found has eluded me in my real life.  To each and everyone of you that I've had the pleasure to interact with on Twitter - thank you.  You have enriched my life in ways I never thought possible and I hope I return the kindness that you've all shown me.

For me, Twitter is a beautiful place which brings warmth and laughter amongst the tears and hardships we share.

Demons

"The sound of muffled voices filled the dark silence.  She made her way to the bedroom door and found she was not the only one to have awoken.  The three of them exchanged that knowing look and crept to the top of the stairs.  The voices were clearer here and so they sat three abreast and listened as the shadows enveloped them.

There were moments of quiet mumblings that gradually built to a crescendo as those downstairs were in the midst of yet another argument fuelled by drink after a hard day.  It would start off happily enough with laughter but invariably ended in tears and an exchange of viscous words and, with any luck, only threats of violence.  She had grown to read the signs where the mood would change without warning and she took it as her cue to usher the other two out of harm's way.

The three of them sat there transfixed as those downstairs tried to calm the man down.  There was a desperation in their voices as they spoke their words.  The threats had started and the usual talk of smashing of faces began in earnest.  The three looked at each other with tears in their eyes and fear etched across their faces.  There was always the question of what could they do?  Nothing was the answer.  They were too young to do anything and only risked having the wrath turned in their direction.  She huddled them closer together and they whispered about dreams of leaving this place."

These are the demons that haunt me.  The helplessness at not being able to defend and protect those around me.  I now know that it was not my job but at the time I felt I had failed those younger than me.  I could only watch for the tells and steer them out of harm's way.  I had developed "a look" from young; the effect was immediate when I used it.  It was a warning and a pleading in one facial gesture that would last but a moment.


I often wonder when and how I will banish these demons from my life.  The scars run deep and my reactions conditioned.  It is the past that drives me to give my son a very different childhood; I hope one of innocence, play, fun and joy that comes with being a child.

Did you have demons too?  How did you come to leave them in your past?  Or did you learn to live with them?

Farewell my bosom buddies

How do I put this?  My boobage has never been on the small side.  Not that they're the size of watermelons or anything remotely similar either in case that is the vision you have in your head right now. *mutters perv under her breath*
 
I was 11 when mine appeared from nowhere and at that time there were only three of us in the entire junior school, excluding the teachers, that had them.  I went through puberty early - go me!  Really not as exciting as I thought when I came to realise that only meant I would have to endure the pain in the arse that is periods for a long time too.  I would walk around with my shoulders hunched so as not to draw attention to myself.  There is nothing quite as intimidating and frightening as having some old* man give you that leering look when you have a chest at that age.  I hated them until all the girls started getting theirs. *old - at that moment probably referred to anyone over the age of 16!

Once the boobage had done their developing it wasn't bad at all.  They were where they should be, pointing in the right direction and due to their projection made the rest of my body seem slim in comparison.  I mean who in their right mind would complain about something that made their waist look smaller?  Not me I tell you.  I was finally comfortable with them around 16.

They came into their own when I attended university; I happened to be in a group of girls where the rest were small in comparison.  But really, it's not a confidence booster when someone is too busy sneaking a peek down your cleavage and talking to your chest rather than to you.  Given that I am also vertically challenged, it stands to reason why all my tops would carefully hide my assets as I didn't want everyone copping a look for free - only the special chosen people got that privilege.

Of course this isn't me!  No freebies remember ; )

Said boobage got bigger with pregnancy.  On the first day of Munch's life I had to get my sister to do an emergency bra shop as they'd already changed from the previous day.  Throw in the breastfreeding and I'd gone up quite a few cup sizes in a very short space of time.  At their peak, it was as though I'd had breast implants put in.  Sprout thought it was all his Christmases come true but alas they were a no go as they were on loan to Munch for the forseeable future.  How cruel that must be - all looking but no touching!  Even I was impressed with these super boobs that now adorned my chest and they cost me not a penny - my body just created them for me.  Well, not really for me but you get my meaning.
 
Breastfeeding came with its problem; I developed blisters on one side that made me wince when Munch fed so I stopped feeding on that side to allow it time to heel.  What a mistake that was and it wasn't even for a week.  Feeding on one side meant that side got bigger whereas the other reduced in size; the body is clever at adjusting supply to demand isn't it?  I ended up with lop sided boobs - yes, you can laugh I'll allow it this once.  Afterwards it didn't matter how much I tried but they never evened themselves out.  I went from having this fab pornstar-esque chest to looking mighty strange - even more keeping them hidden as they were so uneven.

Munch then started solids.  He is now on three meals a day and has started weaning himself off breastmilk.  The only definite times he has breastmilk is first and last thing.  In this past week he has dropped all his night feeds completely.  This has meant that the smaller is back to its pre-pregnancy size and the other is going the same way.  I feel .... deflated.  I had grown to love my new size and carried them proudly, the shrunken version don't have the same wow factor anymore.  In truth, they seem paltry in comparison.  My bosom buddies have stayed long enough and are now retiring until their next visit.  Farewell my friends for I shall miss you!