New Year, new me?

I normally hate New Years resolutions. Think it's kind of silly, as you can make changes to your life any time.

But this year, I really want to make some changes in my life and feel this is a good time to give it a go! Here's what I want to achieve, without any pressure on myself -

1. Lose weight. Simple enough. It's giving up all the biscuits that's the problem!

2. Start focusing on decorating our home. Chose colours, themes, make plans.

3. Spend my money more wisely. I'm pretty good with money, but now I'm a stay at home mum, I need to be even better.

4. Focus more on my children's days. We have no real routine or structure and some planning would probably go a long way!

5. Try and build up my little business as an independent Scentsy consultant. It's my only chance at a small income, so need to make the most of it.

So that's it really, nothing major, nothing stressful or unachievable. I feel I lost too much of 2015 to struggling with my pnd and anxiety - and adjusting to being a mummy of two, which I have found terribly hard. I also turned 40, which I disliked intensely! So now, I want to make 2016 my year.

Happy New Year folks! May it be all you hoped for xx

Positivity

A word that runs through my mind several times a day.

"Be positive", I think.

"Positive mental attitude"

"No one likes a negative person"

I am so self aware, its ridiculous. I know I moan a lot. It seems to be part of my nature. It's also part of my depression. I don't do it on purpose- which makes it worse!

I struggle socially, so I am painfully aware a negative attitude puts people off. This, in turn, increases my anxiety and makes things worse!

I try and put happy things on Facebook, try to convince everyone I'm a really happy bunny. In doing so, I try to convince myself. Sometimes it works. Other days, I snap, and post something moany. Which gets ignored.

The sort of post which, if a friend posted it, would get a hundred responses. 

And then I dwell on it. And hate the world a while.

Then, a couple of days later, I kick myself for being an ass.

And round and round we go.

I'm not what the solution is - I've been like this so long now, it's going to be hard to crack. I often wonder if I'm going to crack it.

Both my Mum and Dad had issues, most of which I am only just becoming aware of. They passed away in 2009 and 2010 respectively, and with no relatives left on my Dads side, it's been a slow process to discover - mainly through old paperwork, and letters. It's tough to accept. So tough that when my aunt  emailed me at my request to tell me about my mothers past, I still haven't  told my husband what I found out. 

Lately things have been really hard because the baby won't sleep. I love him, but it's so tough sitting in that rocking chair half the night. The other morning I didn't want to talk to anyone on the school run. But it was nice to discover people do care and some took the time to come and talk. I find it difficult to shy away if people are kind enough to to engage with me when I have a face like thunder. But I thank them for it; it keeps up my faith in others. 

So where am I going with this? I'm not so sure. I just kinda wanted to get it out there. Blogging as a kind of therapy works really well for me. I'm not sure I even expect anyone to read it!!

But if you are, thank you. I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry for being a grumpy old cow. But I do have an excuse.

Well, kinda.

My top ten baby buys!

The first time round, we bought everything. We were so excited by it all (and had recently come into some money ) that we bought everything that sounded cool.

Second time, we had a better idea of what we were doing. Not completely savvy, but certainly a bit wiser. And on a budget.

So, without further ado, here are the things we couldn't live without -

1. Muslins. Bloody amazing things. Spit cloths, impromptu bibs, clean up anything and everything, sunshade and even a makeshift nappy if you know how. Best ones we had we from Sainsburys and Aldi. Big, and wash well.

2. Ewan the Dream Sheep. We had this for both boys. The biggest still has two - yes two - at bedtime. White noise or soothing music, best thing we bought for bedtime.

3. Vibrating bouncer. Doesn't matter what brand, second hand or new, if it vibrates and baby has wind/colic, it's awesome. When we discovered this and got our first proper smile instead of crying, we knew we had a winner.

4. Tummy tub. We bought ours second hand. Turns out our second hated baths. Screamed and screamed. Popped him in one of these -  big smiles. And months on, he loves the big bath.

5. IKEA bibs. The red and blue coveralls. Wash well and last for ages. Enough said.

6. Tommee Tippee Perfect Prep machine. I'm pretty sure I cant promote formula feeding but still... I never got to bf my first, my milk dried up through stress while he was still in Nicu. I tried bf my second but I just didn't get on with it. I'm not ashamed of that. And this marvellous machine really takes the hassle out of formula feeding. *Note, never pay full price, it's frequently on offer !

7. Glow in the dark dummies. Because nights are hard enough.

8. Cloth nappies and wipes. Really, don't rule this out. Find a nappy library and give it a go. Fluffy post is the best! And really not a faff like you'd think. Sadly, I just couldn't get a good fit on my boy (it's not for everyone) and due to his size, clothes were a bit of an issue - so we stopped. But still use Cheeky Wipes!

9. Sling or carrier. Again, something I didn't use long but really useful. And again most places have a sling library to give you advice, or you can rent from "Its a sling thing" who provide brilliant service. For when they are tiny, a Moby wrap is ace (and once again I bought second hand, saving a fortune) and when a bit bigger, a Mei Tai or a Connecta were great for lil me.

10. Gro Bags. Or any variation of. Both boys were total fidgets and blankets never stayed on. Sleeping bags are great for peace of mind if you're a worrier, like me!

So, there you have it. The things I really couldn't have done without. 

I should point out, I haven't been asked to promote any of these items. They are totally of my recommendation 😃

No. 4 - a tummy tub. They rock!

 

Am I really a good Mum?

So, Harrison, my big boy, is going to school next September. If you've read my previous post you'll know that Harrison was prem. He's also a summer baby. Those two things pretty much mean he's destined to be behind. However, at 3, I think he's pretty much caught up. He started pre-school at Easter and he really came out of his shell.
I had a meeting with his pre-school Key Worker this week and although her observations were as I expected - a little behind in some areas, that she would give him support on - afterwards I started to think -
Am I really a good Mum?
Am I doing enough to support the little things he can't quite do yet? Making the effort to play targeted games or activities? The truth is, I think not! Mainly because half the time I'm dealing with baby. And when baby is asleep, I'm usually too busy with housework.
This makes me sad, and I really want to address it. My only problem being - and I guess its more of an excuse - time. I obviously get none in the day. In the evening I usually sit down about 8 and in bed by 9. This is because of my naughty little sleep thief of a baby! And sometimes I'm just too tired to stay up and 'get stuff done', even if I know I should.
Think this week has given me a kick up the arse to sort myself out and webe the type of mummy I want to be. Watch this space!

 

Harrison - part one

Seeing as it's world prematurity day, I thought today would be a good day to talk about my eldest son, Harrison.

My husband and I badly wanted a baby. We tried for maybe a year without success, and I was convinced it was my age that was the problem. I even had tests. I had a chemical pregnancy not long after we were married and it's fair to say I was gutted.
Five long months later, we finally got what we wanted. A big fat positive! And morning sickness. And all the other fun associated with pregnancy. I didn't have an easy time, I got SPD (Or Pelvic Girdle Pain as a lot of people know it)and had to have physio. I was super uncomfy as he wiggled really far down in my pelvis and I could hardly walk. I also got the odd agonizing abdominal pain.
6 months in, my husband was finally going to graduate from University. His PhD had eaten up so much of our lives for so many years and we were finally going to celebrate.
It was a fairly long drive from Cambridge to Birmingham. We stopped along the way and I swore I had wet myself . Slightly embarrassed, we made another stop for some Tena Lady because I was worried I wouldn't make it through the ceremony!
Little did I know.
We got to the University, collected robes, messed about, even joked with others about labour. We went to pose for official photos. It was then the unthinkable happened. My water broke in front of everyone, maybe 100 or so people. I was 29 weeks and 1 day pregnant.
The next few hours are a blur. Hospital admissions, undignified checks from untold amounts of medical staff, monitoring...I was told I should be ok, and I would be kept in for 48 hours and probably go home on bed rest. As we had nothing with us, my hubby went out to collect me a few things. And it was then I noticed that my stomach ache was getting worse - and coming in waves. When Ian got back I mentioned it to someone. I was hooked up and hey presto, I was in early labour. My in laws arrived at visiting time - just in time to see me being wheeled down to delivery. I was utterly calm - maybe even numb - at this point. Baby's heart kept stopping with each contraction, and not recovering well. I had doctors arguing over what to do. I nodded yes to a C section and away I went. Wheeled into a theatre FULL of people. A team for me, and a team for my baby. I was about to have a spinal, when I believe baby crashed again and all hell broke lose. Ian got kicked out and I got put under. So much was happening, and the last thing I remember before I went under, was being tilted sideways. So bizarre.
I woke up a few hours later, close to midnight, in an empty recovery room. I whispered to my husband "Do we have a baby?".
To my amazement, he produced our camera. And there he was. Covered in wires, and in a plastic box. But it was our baby.
We named him straight away. Harrison. He was 2lb, 12oz, born at 8.38pm by emergency C section.
Delivered by a man called Albert Dimitry. I will never forget that.
To my amazement, my sister and my In Laws arrived. And, in the dead of night, I was wheeled down to Nicu to meet my baby. There he was,this tiny, little boy, hooked up to so many machines. And I couldn't even hold him. He took my breath away
I was then taken to my room. They had kindly given me a private room on the post natal ward - but I could still hear all the newborns crying.
Thank god I was drugged to the eyeballs...as it was the longest night of my
life.

And this was just the beginning.  We had a long, hard road ahead, and I wont lie - probably the toughest thing I have ever done.

Sleep

Eeeek! Finally got on the laptop - and I've gone blank! Yes, of course I made some notes. But it still requires some sort of clear head to write! So I'll be honest. This probably won't come as a surprise to many Mummies but -

SLEEP DEPRIVATION CAUSED BY CHILDREN KILLS BRAIN CELLS

Currently, my baby is waking at 4am almost every single day. This is annoying. Even more annoying is the fact he is back asleep by around 5.30am. I slump back into bed for an hour or so, unless the toddler wants to get up. That is also annoying, but not his fault. Archie (The baby) has never slept particularly well. Which came as a shock, as we thought the oldest wasn't a good sleeper!

Please tell me I'm not the only parent that sits there in the dark, trying to rock the baby back to sleep, silently praying "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO BACK TO SLEEP!" It doesn't mean you love your child any less - it just means you're really really tired. And boy, am I tired. I can't remember a time I wasn't tired. I'm not looking for sympathy, I mean, every parent goes through it to some degree (except the smug ones who say "Oh, my baby has slept 7-7 since he was 2 weeks old". Pah). I just hate it.

The main reason I hate it is that it really affects my mood. I've had depression on and off most of my adult life, and have been affected by PND with both of my children. If you think about yourself, and how grumpy and snappy you are if you don't get a good night's sleep - times that by about a hundred and that's me on a bad day (after a bad night).

If I had a pound for every time I hear "It WILL get better", I'd certainly never need to work again. And I know its true but when you have mental health problems, you tend to live in, and focus on, the now, So if you have a friend who is having problems, don't wheel out that old line. Sympathize, offer them a cuppa and make them laugh. That will go a long way.

The sleep thief and I

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The beginning

So, I'm completely new at all this. But I figured why not try it. So many of us Mummies seem to be at it, and with my new found status as a Stay at Home Mum, it seems like something I enjoy doing. Writing a load of waffle that people 'might' enjoy reading.
But - where to start? a load of waffle about me? Who I am? Why I've given up work? Arrrrgh suddenly it all seems so complicated!
Maybe begin at the beginning. Born in 1975, I've recently turned 40. I might indulge you in that one later.
Daughter of Anne and David, who were 'older' parents, i.e the wrong side of 35. Actually, my Mum was 39. This never made any difference to me, I never even noticed. It wasn't until my parents passed away in 2009 and 2010 that I realised they were old. I grew up in glorious Feltham, home of Freddie Mercury, Mo Farrah and Feltham Young Offenders Establishment. Ah, the good old innocent 80's. What a fab time to grow up. I left school with a good selection of GCSE's and went on to A levels at college. Made some less than sensible decisions and didn't really get any great grades. Went on to work in retail and left home at 19.
Am I boring you yet?
Boyfriends, houses, jobs all came and went. I married at 26. Not too much to say about that one. Didn't really end well. Once that was over, I followed my Mum and Sister to the Midlands and began the next chapter - Stoke-on-Trent.