Once upon a time, Mummy went for a little lie down.
This was partly because she was feeling ill, and partly because the thought of sitting through yet another ‘Oooh-Tube’ video of Blippi twatting about in a ballpit made her want to chew her own arm off and throw it at him repeatedly until he blacked out. So off she went.
Question – is anyone else having that ‘should we have another?’ internal debate and thinking ‘shouldn’t I just KNOW???’
(FYI – I’m referring to children rather than say, biscuits, where of course the answer would be ‘absolutely – finish the packet before anyone else notices’)
But seriously, is there some kind of ‘time for number two!’ alarm that just kicks in one day? Everyone else seems so sure; ‘Oh, we always knew we wanted more’ or ‘nope, we’re one and done!’… is it weird to be so indecisive?
I thought I’d be a mum who took it all in her stride. But I wasn’t. I was a mum pushing a pram in the driving rain, crying my eyes out and wondering how on earth I was going to get through the next few weeks, let alone years.
I hoped I’d be a mum who’d say airily “oh, she’ll eat ANYTHING we put in front of her!” But I’m not. I’m a mum who’s seriously considering handing my food shop straight over to the binmen just to save time, and slightly concerned that Miss O will think ALL dinosaurs were made from turkey…
I’ve always enjoyed a good giggle at the horoscopes you get at the back of magazines – they’re so fantastically vague, and full of promises of fame, fortune and fabulous lovers winging their way over to you ASAP…
I have to say though, they seem even more unlikely these days!
Here are some of my recent faves:
“A tall dark stranger will ask you to dance…”
PAH!! Justin Fletcher told me to wiggle my bottom this morning, does that count? They certainly don’t get much stranger than him… Read more
Yesterday, Miss O got her transfer papers.
And no, she’s not off to Manchester United for a record fee (although they should give it some serious consideration – she’s got one heck of a left kick and can throw herself dramatically to the ground with the best of them).
No, in a couple of weeks time she’ll be moving up to the big group in nursery; the group before pre-school, the ‘bloody hell when did she stop being a baba?!’ group. And even though I knew it was coming, I’ve been really emotional about it (or ‘grumpy and ridiculous’ if you favour my husband’s take on it…) Read more
Those baby milestone cards are everywhere these days – you know, the ‘Today I’m 6 months old!’ and ‘Today I took my first steps!’ type things.
I was never organised enough to buy any and have no idea how people manage to get their babies to pose so nicely with them – Miss O would have either eaten it or projectile vomited all over it before I’d even had a chance to point the camera in her direction…
This week, I’ve had a crack at making my very own ‘Mummy Milestone’ cards:
Having a baby is a real relationship game-changer. On the one hand, I’ve gained a whole new level of respect for the guy who stays so calm after Miss O’s 1458th tantrum of the day (this is usually the point at which I stomp off to sit in the car with a Kit Kat to calm down) and who happily gets up at 5.30am with her so that I can get some extra shut-eye.
But on the other hand, we do things that drive each other absolutely bananas. A lot of these are things that we’ve always done, but hey, if things got a bit tense pre-baby, you could pop out for a nice pub lunch somewhere, or, I don’t know, have an impromptu weekend away in Paris (we never actually did this, but it’s what you like to imagine you’d be doing instead of watching a Peppa Pig marathon, idly wondering why someone hasn’t turned that annoying little oik into sausage rolls yet…)
These days, it’s all a bit more stressful, and frantic, and there’s Lego f*cking everywhere. So those once completely brush-offable bad habits have become REALLY BLOODY ANNOYING. Read more
In my younger years, if I’d overindulged on the wine on a Saturday night, I could spend Sunday curled up on the sofa, eating junk food and watching back-to-back episodes of ‘Murder, She Wrote‘ (mainly wondering why the baddies ALWAYS give Jessica at least 20 minutes to tell them how they committed the murder before shooting her – I mean, they bloody did it, it can’t be news to them…)
These days, I get to nurse my hangovers at a farm, or soft play, or if I’m really unlucky, the supermarket…
Regular readers of this blog (hi both!) will know that a review is completely uncharted territory for me, but having just got back from a really enjoyable staycation holiday, WITH A TODDLER, it felt wrong not to share!
We’ve not had much luck on our previous attempts; Miss O went on sleep strike during our first holiday (cue hours of bleary-eyed despair whilst watching endless In the Night Garden episodes on repeat – if I’d wanted to spend my summer with a truckload of oddbods riding in circles around the countryside, I’d have taken a sodding coach trip), and we managed to bring a highly contagious vomiting virus along with us on holiday two – you can imagine how that played out…
So, to be honest, I was rather apprehensive about what was in store for us this time around!
Flear Farm is a collection of gorgeous baby-friendly cottages set in a private country estate in Totnes. When we arrived, we were really taken aback by how beautiful the grounds were, and loved exploring all the hidden-away picnic spots and woodland paths. The lovely owners, Barney and Camilla, were on hand to give us a tour of all the key areas, and also left some ridiculously tasty homemade scones with jam and clotted cream for us, which was a welcome surprise after a four-and-a-half-hour car journey!
What really sets this place apart from everywhere else though, are the amazing facilities for families, including: Read more
Since social media worked out that I’m a mother (it’s clever/creepy like that) it’s constantly bombarding me with ‘Super Parent’ type photos and articles that I just know I’m never going to live up to. At no point will I ever get around to hand-crafting a submarine bed for Miss O’s room, building a rollercoaster in the garden or sending her to school with a ‘Bento box’ lunch complete with butterfly-shaped sandwiches and an exact replica of the Eiffel Tower constructed entirely from carrot sticks…
That doesn’t stop me dipping my toe in the crafting/baking/magic-making waters, but it just never seems to go to plan! For example: Read more
Pass the wine please 