Wednesday, June 28, 2006
cure all
Monday morning was tough. I sat with the duvet pulled up to my chin while Jack climbed all over the bed and up the walls. He never stays still; I'm starting to suspect that the nursery feeds him triple espressos twice daily. I was feeling very low and covered my face with my hands and started sobbing. Jack went perfectly still, his fuzzy head turned towards me with a puzzled look on his face. He wriggled over to me, put his head on my chest and wrapped his pudgy arms around me. There he stayed for several minutes, not moving an inch.
And then I discovered, no matter how crappy everything seems, one cuddle from your little boy makes the world a good place again. Coupled with a hug from your husband, of course.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a Bad Mother
Breast-Feed or Else
A two-year national breast-feeding awareness campaign that culminated this spring ran television announcements showing a pregnant woman clutching her belly as she was thrown off a mechanical bull during ladies' night at a bar - and compared the behavior to failing to breast-feed.
"You wouldn't take risks before your baby's born," the advertisement says. "Why start after?" [source]
I firmly believe that breastmilk is best - I don't think anyone disputes that. I always knew that I wanted to breastfeed my child(ren) and never considered things like breast reduction surgery just in case it affected my ability to feed. When I had Jack, he was put to the breast very shortly after his birth, regardless of being born surgically. For that, I was greatly relieved. I had images of my son latched on me while I expertly held him in one arm and continued to do things like make homemade bread and re-grout the bathroom tiles with the other. It's supposed to be the most natural thing in the world and if it hurt, you're doing something wrong.
So you can imagine my surprise when I discovered that by the gods breastfeeding FECKING WELL HURT and some of us need eight pairs of hands and several pillows to feed our babies. I was certain that Jack wasn't getting enough milk from me because most times when I expressed, I only managed to get an ounce or two. My health visitor told me to supplement with formula and so I did, because what did I know about babies? I was tired and sore from both the c-section and from breastfeeding - any relief was met with extreme enthusiasm. She could have told me to give him a bottle of Mountain Dew six times a day, and I would have done it; I was so delirious with fatigue. After the health visitor left, I purchased my first box of formula and gave a bottle to Jack. And I cried my heart out.
There are many reasons why women don't/can't breastfeed, and it has nothing to do with being irresponsible. We need to be supported, encouraged, and educated by our health visitors and GPs, not shown a box of formula at the first hurdle and then made to feel like Bad Mothers. I will do my damndest to breastfeed our next baby, and armed with everything I learned last time, I am now far more confident. But if I do need to switch to formula or mixed feeds, I will not be made to feel like a monster.
The mechanical variety isn't the only bull in that ad.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
happy, happy, happy, happy pox
Apparently, the chicken pox are a laugh riot. Jack woke up giggling this morning and was happy as a clam all day yesterday. He slept a lot yesterday afternoon (3 hours!) and slept through the night until 7 this morning. He hasn't hit the itchy stage yet, at which point I expect the happy mood to swiftly depart. He's covered in red spots and isn't fond of clothes at the moment, so he's been running around in a nappy. It's both cute and pitiful at the same time, especially when his nappy gets that "full of wee droop". I'm armed with Calpol (infant Tylenol) and calomine lotion, and friends have recommended lukewarm bicarbonate of soda (baking soda) baths and children's Piritin (an antihistamine). I've received phone calls from my mummy friends asking to come over for a chicken pox party. Seriously, if my in-laws weren't arriving tonight to lend a hand, I would have organised a pox party complete with cakes and cookies. It's no fun when you can't really go anywhere (except to other mummy friends' houses or the park) but your child is raring to go as normal.
Jack's latest talent is mimicking me while I'm on the phone. I sometimes give him my mobile to play with (with the keys locked - I don't want to find charges for 2 hour phone calls to Namibia on my next bill, thanks) and if someone calls while he's got the mobile, he'll hold it up to his ear and go "Blah blah blah, hahahaha!" It's pretty difficult to have a serious conversation when your child is making you giggle like a loon. "No no, I'm not laughing at you, it's just that BWAAAHAHAHA!"
It's all a bunch of laughs around here, I tell you.
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
meanwhile...
...please enjoy this short film while we tend to the pox. Thank you.
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the chicken has landed
Jack's got the pox. Let the fun begin.
Monday, June 19, 2006
what we did on daddy's day
Jack pet an owl:
then turned into one!
Thursday, June 15, 2006
call me; we'll do lunch
"DAH-ling!"
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
updates
PoxWatch: No signs of the chicken pox yet. Am starting to think that my son has superduper antibodies. He must get them from his father.
MediaWatch: I'm being interviewed tomorrow morning by a reporter from the Sunday Express (for the magazine). She wants to write an article about baby blogs, came across this site, and got in touch with me. We may be photographed again and maybe this time, we'll be able to smile. Will keep you posted.
FertilityWatch: Nine of my friends are pregnant right now (it was ten up until last Friday). My fertility powers are obviously still very potent, so feel free to place your hands upon this screen if you'd like to get pregnant. Of course, you need to have some interaction with a male member of the species as well for this to work effectively.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
cluck
The chicken pox are doing the rounds at Jack's nursery again, and it's made its way up to the baby room this time around. One of the workers informed me of this when I dropped Jack off and I jokingly responded "Yay! Maybe he'll finally get it this time!" at which point they all looked at me like I was clinically insane. What I meant was that I would prefer him to get chicken pox now rather than later when it's particularly nasty, not that I wished ill health upon my child. Another mother who was dropping her baby off understood what I meant and said "Maybe we could rub them all together." I refrained from making a joke about seeing if they stick to the wall afterwards.
Perhaps I should start selling "Ask Me How To Be a Bad Mother!" t-shirts on this site.
everyone sing
Here are all the verses to "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" for all you Bad Mothers out there:
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveller in the dark,
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Seriously, who knew? (Apart from the friend of mine who informed me of this, of course.)
Thursday, June 01, 2006
why you won't find me on the cover of prima baby magazine
Please forgive me, for I have been a Bad Mother. I have done the following Bad Mother things lately:
-I spotted Jack drinking out of the dog's water bowl. He likes playing with spoons while I unload the dishwasher, but I didn't notice that on this occasion he was using the spoon to daintily sip water out of Jasper's bowl.
-I watched a particularly sweary episode of "Big Brother" in Jack's presence this morning. If his first sentence is "I am f*cking dying of starvation!", we'll all know who to blame.
-I fed him half a chip on Monday.
-I don't bathe him every day. In fact, most days he just gets a wipe or a sponging. I'm not sure if this is a bad thing because surely items like oatmeal and eggs are good for the skin and hair, right?
-I had no idea that "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" had more than one verse.
-I often make up stories to go with the pictures in his books, particularly if I find the original story a bit boring. Once he learns how to read, he's going to be very annoyed about this.
-Ditto song lyrics.
In totally unrelated news, three cheers for Brewer's Fayre pubs! We went to the Highwayman in St Neots on Monday, and were impressed by the extensive children's menu (with much healthier options than most pubs offer) and the big soft play area. Children under 3 feet (that's feet, not years - don't ask me why) are free, and taller children are charged £2 to get in to the play area. Although you can't eat in the play area, you can let the kids run loose while you're waiting for your food and come back when you're finished eating. Service was friendly and the food was pretty good - similar to any large chain pub. We'll definitely return.