3 weeks on

So, it has been three weeks since I hung up my work satchel and donned the (even more) food stained cardigan of a full-time SAHM.

Mostly, I love it. But even doing it for about 25 more hours a week than I have been for the last 14 months or so has been testing at times. I'll hands up admit that  have far to go in this mama process: every day is a learning curve. The difference now, as opposed to last year, though is that I can recognise that pretty much all mums of a similar stage feel similarly. Fleeting conversations at baby groups or in the park revealed a set of parents hell-bent on being the Perfect Earth Mother but at times struggling to read their baffling offspring and anxious of Doing It Wrong. Even without prematurity or feeding disorders, I appear to have become in possession of someone who knows her own mind and by goodness is she going to exercise it! At times, it is exhausting but also exhilarating. That is, when it is not really exhausting.

Things I have learnt so far:

1. Get out the house EVERY DAY. Without fail, unless one or both of you is poorly. Even in the rain. Suddenly the scales of trying to combine work-and-motherhood-perfection have been lifted. So many previous days off were spent in the house, alone, eyeballing the baby. No wonder I foundered. Butterfly minded small people need distractions and changes of scenery. Mamas need space.

2. Find a plethora of free and low cost things to diversify things you can go to regularly. This week we have been to the park, the beach, a free science museum with hall of mirrors and small soft play area for under 5s, a parent and toddler group and our usual signing class. We seem to be gingerly finding a routine of doing an activity or outing for one half of the day and being at home for the other.

3. Set a goal time to both be dressed. This sounds really silly especially with a nearly-2 year old, but I have found it helps. Unless we have to be out earlier, our goal is for at least one if not both of us to be dressed by 9am. Invariably, at 9:01am I jump into the shower whilst Numtums distracts Wriggles. It is not the end of the world if we are still in jimjams, and sometimes a lazy morning is just what is needed. Not every day though. Or it will drive me mad.

4. Socialise. Even if you think you want to be a hermit. It doesn't mean you are sidelining your child. My best moments this week have been when in the company of friends. Judging by Wriggles' giggling, I think she would back me up on this point.


5. Try to hang the washing out on the same day you have done it.

6. Ditto the washing up.

7. Even if you are tired, lunch does not = a packet of biscuits. There is a lot to be said for (very vague) meal planning. An area for definite improvement!

8. No one really cares if one or both of you is not wearing matching socks.

9. All mothers will occasionally loose their rag. It does not make you the devil incarnate. Breathe in and count to 10. Glare at toy Rabbit. Glare at small child if necessary-she probably has her back to you terrorising the bookcase again anyway. Stomp off to another room for a few seconds. Having an emergency chocolate tin really helps. Toddlers, it seems, were invented to try the patience of a saint. All this hard work of winding you up will be undone in an instant once they reach out sticky hands to loop round your neck.

10. Ignore all nosey bats. One mile in each others shoes and all that.

Happy

This evening, I was baking cakes (it has to be plural as my success rate in the baking department is highly variable. Tonight it was mercifully two out of three), jiggling around wearing an apron to some favourite music and realised that I was feeling something I perhaps hadn't felt massively for a while when on my own:

Happy. 

Content. 

Not sad. 

Not scared. 

Not anxious.

Not regretful. 

Not guilty. 

Not remorseful.

Just pleasantly chilled and covered in flour.

When I am with my little girl, I am generally fine. It is when she goes to bed, that the thoughts come tumbling out one by one ambushing me until I feel like keeling over with the weight of it all. Everything becomes mammoth, everything becomes my fault. My strength drains away and I have no will. But tonight, I feel light. Light and fluffy and hopefully the cakes in the oven!

Some good moments from our week:

Hedgehog comes for a day out

Definitely NOT afraid of the big bad (stuffed) wolf

"Helping" sorting out for the Tiny Lives sale fundraiser for our NICU

Rain rain go away

I cannot begin to tell you how fed up I am with this rain. Except that if you live in the UK too, chances are you share my feelings and are busy with the same sentiment. The trouble I have is a simple equation:

Heavy rain + cooped up toddler = Not Very Good

Toddlers, need entertaining. Toddlers like variety. Toddlers like destruction and space to roam. Mummies do not like getting wet. Thus, being stuck inside the house is a nightmare that will often result in two people climbing the walls by 4:45pm. After a while, you run out of producing tricks, your voice goes hoarse from singing Wind the Bobbin Up a little too enthusiastically at first not anticipating how many times it would have to be repeated, there is nothing actually left in a drawer or cupboard, all the crayons have gone missed (lobbed God knows where) and every new and exciting (really!!) activity is met me snarls of defiance and lunging for the remote/telephone/bread knife/plug sockets/bin.

"Helping" address a card

Bookworm at home ravaging the shelves

In good weather, I have tricks up my sleeve. Namely ducks, pigs, the seaside, the playground, picnics outside, drawing on the path with chalk...I know, I do have ENORMOUS sleeves. In torrential floods, I must admit I am stumped. There is only so many times you can haunt soft play before you either go bankrupt or mad, and the great problem is getting anywhere in lashing monsoons. Yesterday we braved it and dashed out to toddler group which is all of five minutes walk away. Today, after miserably watching the drizzle we seized the moment and decided to go and bother the quiet literary types at the City Library. Luckily everyone else had the same idea and there wasn't a single literary type in sight. Instead there were some small children full of beans, what looked suspiciously like a great thong of the Unwashed talking earnestly about dragons and dungeons and taking up all the tables with their special tablecloths and lanky anaemic looking limbs, and several elderly ladies asking about Fifty Shades of Grey.

Our City Library is now huge. It has six floors including a nursery and creche, exhibition space, gigantic paper mache tiger, permanently shut job seekers advice (how fitting in this climate!) and a severe lack of books. It is very clean and modern, but does bear a minor resemblance more to a shopping centre or empty airport lounge as opposed to a centre of learning. Luckily it does contain children's books and a small area to amuse said small children. There is a rather exciting pretend tree and a huge print covering both a wall and curtains of clouds in the sky, so you can pretend you are outdoors. A bonus for us today, was there were some wide steps leading up to this. At the weekend, my friend decided her honorary aunt duty was to teach Wriggles how to climb up stairs. In just under an hour, Wriggles went from clumsily scrambling over legs to being able to shimmy up a lengthy and steep flight of stairs without a second glance. So being able to practise this new skill was a winner as far as she was concerned!

Mastering the stairs

Wriggles by name, Wriggles by nature

 As it was in the same building, we were able to call by the nursery Wriggles had temporarily been in whilst I finished work after our poor childminder had had to bring her retirement forward drastically. Due to our recent hospital admission, Wriggles had missed her last day so it was a lovely opportunity to say thank you and pick up anything she had left. Although she hadn't been there long, she had been assigned a key worker and had a folder full of 'drawings', observations, photographs of what she had been up to and descriptions of how her days there were filled. It is not just a lovely record to keep, but was also somewhat of a relief reading through the notes especially those in reference to the EYFS framework and child development. Although we know she has delays, and has been officially marked down now as globally delayed, the observations were glowing with her skills and it was clear that those partaking in her care were every bit as chuffed as I was every time she did something new. She may seem young for her age, but she is very much getting there and it was with both pride and pleasure that I noticed she is ticking many of the boxes for 8-20 month old development in social, cognitive, personal care, language and gross/fine motor skills. The speech and walking may be missing, but she is quite adept at communicating her needs, charming the pants off making relationships on her own terms and getting around to her wishes. I knew at home she was beginning to grasp the concept that things have uses but this made me laugh:

"....Wriggles was exploring the (toy!) mop, turning it upside down. Earlier in the day, she found the sweeping brush and proceeded to attempt to try and manipulate it to 'clean' the floor and also then to brush her hair."

I must admit, the idea of my Wriggles, who if she didn't look less baby-like by the day could easily pass for 10-11 month old, wrestling with a full-sized sweeping brush and attempting to comb her hair with it made me snort out loud. 

That aside though, the report was full of positivity and it will certainly be accompanying us to our next development review. It backs up what I have always thought and said, in many areas she is going at full steam ahead and what some areas may lack in, others such as social skills and confidence, she more than makes up in. One horrible review now months ago, it was implied that by being from a single parent background, she wouldn't be able to be brought on as much as a child from a more traditional background. I was told that unless she went quite substantially to nursery among lots of children, she would flounder. Yes, these recent observations have been made in a nursery setting now (albeit a very small indeed one), but she has clearly managed perfectly well to get this far with so much character by either being with me, or the childminder who only had one other little person one day a week. There might only be two of us, but since that stinging remark I have been determined to make sure we socialise and go to lots of activities in groups and see lots of friends to widen her circle. And it looks like it is working! She is not even 2 yet, so even on a purely hypothetical level as finances would not allow any nursery, I am not comfortable with having her away from me unnecessarily. She is a bright button and unless we become hermits, I refuse to believe her development will be harmed in any way by not rigidly following guidelines in a large group of peers.

Now if that rain can just stop for one minute to be able to get out and socialise....

Uninspired: our week

In the "Big Girl Chair" for a rare moment

Art Attack

My Little Princess

"Hmmm how much mess can I make...?"

Wherever next?!

Watch out Picasso

Highchair

A year ago we got our highchair. Like much else about Wriggles, prematurely! She was being weaned (if you can call it that, not actually eating any solid food) but even with the insert, was very small and her chin was practically resting on the table. She also couldn't sit up by herself and wouldn't for around 6 months more. The only reason I bought it then was that it was reduced at the time and my parents were up visiting to help carry it back from the shop. We duly placed Wriggles in it for a photo opportunity and after that, it stayed rather unused taking up a corner of the kitchen for months to come. She wasn't very impressed at all and it seldom got used as anything further than somewhere for dumping things organising post.

Wriggles was still being (attempted) fed in the bouncy chair and Bumbo, which I cannot praise enough. We were kindly loaned it by the physiotherapy team to help Wriggles' core muscles, but it really came into it's own for so much more. She seemed frightened of the highchair for a very long time, but trusted the Bumbo which she was always more than happy to sit in. I think it made her feel more independent and like she could achieve more. It also freed up her hands rather than trying to balance on the floor trying to support her weight sitting. I did try to use the highchair briefly, not for food but to play in. Partly it was useful if I needed to have both hands free for a short period, and partly I wanted her to relax in it and learn to trust it. She was so swamped in it, there were often about three separate rolled up towels supporting her as well as a booster insert. Slowly, she began to hate it a bit less and discovered the fantastic game of "chuck it over the sides/Mummy pick it up". She was definitely at least one before it got used even semi-regularly for meal times, as other times she was far happier sat in the Bumbo or on my lap. Given that meal times were not her favourite bit of the day, the last thing I wanted to do was make her more fraught by the choice of seat.  


Although progress isn't fast, Wriggles really is making strides with feeding and also accepting more textures and touch. The highchair has now come into it's own, especially as the Bumbo is no longer safe now she is mobile, and the tray is ideal for presenting a buffet of leftovers and finger foods, and if she wants to really get involved and explore the food, then it is wipe-clean (as is she!). Now, we have lunch and dinner in the highchair and she happily will pick through a selection of things like cheese biscuits and Cheerios as well as being spoon-fed. It also makes a good hiding place, standing aide and toy basket when not in use. She still is rather swamped by it...

Happy birthday, highchair.

Handbag

Sometimes I wonder how being a mother has changed me day to day. Occasionally I think maybe it hasn't. Obviously I am one, but am I that different? I have always erred on the bumbling and scatty but am I mum-type-bumbling? At work today, my fellow mum-colleague came in and fished in her handbag for a pen. She pulled out several snapped crayons with a puzzled expression and rolled her eyes. I thought about my own attempts to find anything in my bag and there found my answer.

In my handbag this morning I found:

• my wallet (chewed)
• my mobile
• my keys
• my spare keys in case I lost my keys
• my camera
• one either spare or dud battery-must check later
• antibacterial hand gel
• miniature bottle of Burt's Bees lotion
• lipbalm covered in fluff
• assorted crumbs
• crushed packet of Quavers containing approximately two Quavers left
• packet of paracetomal
• Passport; presumably in case it all gets a bit too much
• biro
• spare biro
• spare spare biro (yet can never find a biro at time of need)
• six stacking cups, mercifully still stacked
• one shaky egg
• one board book, cunningly concealed
• a half chewed arm of gingerbread person (chewed by Wriggles, not me)
• hairband
• assortment of expired bus and metro tickets and receipts
• squashed mini packet of wipes
• collection of bangles to distract Wriggles from swiping my keys and spare keys
• dog-eared leaflets I cannot recall picking up
• my friend's address scribbled on the back of a Pizza Express menu
• pair of tiny socks (kicked off by Wriggles)
• Sudocream
• Small bottle of factor 50 sun cream
• sweet wrappers (alas no sweets)
• unposted birthday card for uncle
• exceptionally tatty coffee shop loyalty card

At least rattly frog didn't make it in this time...

De-Cluttering

I am having a clear-out or clear-up.
I have always been a perpetually messy sort and I am slightly ashamed to let people into my house.


I find sort-outs quite therapeutic too and a little trip down memory lane, finding parts of you that you might have forgotten about. I have a (very large) memory box where treasured birthday cards, postcards, rambling letters and funny post-it notes from friends go. I also have the only physical token of my albeit brief courtship with Wriggles' father, when on our first date after a few glasses of wine we decided to compare handwriting on a scrap of paper. Funny the things you keep. When after a while he disappeared into the ether, or at least, stopping calling me, I meant to throw it out. Now I'm quite glad, not because I have particularly sentimental feelings about or for him, but that there is some evidence that we at least met in a not-just-procreating sense.


Amongst my mountains of things, I also have like every parent, A LOT of baby items. It always amazes me how one small person can take up so much room and acquire so many things in such a short space of time. But acquire they do! And grow, relatively quickly. I now have amongst other things a baby-seat, a moses basket and rocker, a large pram, a sling, a slightly faulty pushchair and a baby bath as well as probably hundreds of clothes, ranging from premature sizes up until 6-12 months. Some is millionth hand already, but most of it is in pretty good condition. And it is taking up room. I have already sorted out some things which have gone into a memory box for Wriggles, and kept first tiny gloves and favourite jumpers, but I am still left with a multitude of things and no one small enough to use them. Recently I began working with Tiny Lives and their Nearly New sales that raise money to support the neonatal unit where Wriggles spent the first two months of her life. In the past I have donated and sold items that I had no use for, and now I am wondering whether it is time to clear out other bits and bobs that I simply have no use for anymore. Many things have had a lot of wear as Wriggles was and is, still a titch, so over the 17 months or 15 that she has been at home with me, she still uses many things more suitable for a 9 month old. 

Don't they know?

My parents have come up to visit. It's lovely, it really is. And yet, I feel so weighed down by their "helpful" comments. It makes me feel like I'm doing it All Wrong.

Do you have any bleach? That [insert name of object] has seen better days.

Hand me a cloth, I just have to clean this/that/everything.

Don't you think it would be easier if you took rubbish out with carrier bags every day?

You don't want to be doing that.

I think it would better this way.

I'm doing my best, I want to scream. I know my home is a bit fuzzy round the edges, I know I could do better, I know I need to do some things differently, but I'm trying. I'm really really trying.

I've been really depressed the last six months or so. Some days, it is all I can do to make sure I eat. Or get up. Or move. Or talk to someone-anyone. I can care for Wriggles by the back of my hand but me? Me who? I'd stopped caring. Me just didn't feature. Anything outside of Wriggles directly simply didn't feature. I could barely sleep, feed or think. I had no concentration, no feelings about anything. No sense of pride, dignity, cleanliness. I did what I could and hid the rest. It was shit. I felt a failure. Don't you know how debilitating it is? It's not just a word or excuse, it's anything but flippant. It's a weight that drags you down. 

I'm getting better now, I am. But it still lingers. And even on good days, I'm still making up time and tidying up from the mess, literal and metaphorical, I slid into. I'm still trying to claw back everything. I'm still trying to find an image other than fear of loosing my daughter and desperately trying to prove I'm capable.

That is why the washing up waits.

Don't you understand?

I struggled. I was ill and a mummy and working. I carried on even when I wanted to hide away. I did it on my own because I had too.

Giving my daughter a cuddle is a more important. For both of us. Possibly more me. She saves me and takes me back to life.

Please give me a break. 

I know you care, I just need to learn how to myself again.

My Tuesday Day (scribbled down by Wriggles)*

*as inspired/thieved from Diary of a Premmy Mum and Mummy Pink wellies without the cool pictures.

8am.

Ouch. Something has happened. Something dreadful. My foot hurts. Oh-it's stuck in the cot bars. That must be why. Actually so is my other one. How an earth did they get there? Hang on....I'm sure I went to sleep the other way around. And facing the other way. And my blanket has jumped underneath me. Stupid blanket. MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMM

8:02am

Rescued. Still in my cot the right way round. Muuuuuuuuuum. I'm still awake even if my feet are somewhere more sensible. Mummmmmm. What do you mean you're tired still?!

8:03am

"The marvellous mechanical Mouse Orchestra! We will find it we wil bind it....." Ooooh it's the singing Bagpuss Mouse toy!!

8:07am

MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUM

8:07 and a bit am

"The marvellous mechanical Mouse Orchestra! We will find it we wil bind it....." Ooooh it's the singing Bagpuss Mouse toy again!!

8:11am 

MUUUUM. Breakfast! Mummmmmmm! MUM MUM MuM. Oh blast I'm stuck again.

8:12am

Wheeeeeeeeeeeee I'm flying. Oh wait. Hang on, it's you. Well about time Mummy! Is it breakfast now? Right now? Where is breakfast? Where where where? I'm hungry. Oh you're so unfair putting the kettle on for YOU. Oh it's for me and my bottle. Yum yum yum yum yum. Forgiven? What? Who? Just give me the milk. Slurp slurp slurp.

8:34am

No I do not want the toast. That is your stupid breakfast. Unless I can rip it up and put it in the sofa? Ooooh nice hot mug. Can I have that?

8:35am

Hmmmph. 

8:55am

You aren't going to believe it but there are two of me. Look, one is in that shiny thing. Hello! Helllo!!!! Hello!!! Another baby! And Me #2 has got a cheese-and-mouse-you too. Good taste. 

9:20am

I could have sworn I had a mummy but she seems to have disappeared. The bathroom is making a very loud noise. Bored. MUUUUUM. Oh there you are. Are we playing the hairdryer game? Nice noisy hairdryer! Ooooh oohooh it tickles!

9:31am

Just because you want to get dressed I see no reason why that means I should too. Get off get off get off. Ooh hello toes. Can I put them in my nappy, please? You're no fun, mummy. I want to play with my toes. Oh a sock. Hello sock!

9:45am

Maybe clothes aren't so bad after all. Hmm that mug looks like a good game. Look how good I am at reaching over veeerrrrryyyy cunningly.........why am I face down on the carpet? Where is the mug? Can we read books? Mummy is quite strange. And very slow. She reads them very slowly with words. Picture books are called picture books for a reason, mummy. She just doesn't get it.

10:18am
I think it is time for Elevenses and a very small cat nap....of precisely thirteen seconds. I'm awake!!!

10:55am
 Attack! I'm being attacked! Something bright pink has swooped down on me and swallowed up one of my arms. Haahaa fooled you, I've got my arm back. Oh it's trying again. The unfairness! Now it's going for the other one! Well, tough luck 'cos I've just freed my first arm. Again?! Really? stupid coat. Hmpppph.

11:03am
Apparently "we're late". This means we have to walk in the pushchair at break-neck speed along the road. Wheeeee I like racing! Vrrrroooom a car! Eek it's a bit chilly. Maybe I should have let the mittens win after all.

11:18am
Hooray now I remember! Tuesdays are Jo Jingles days. Babies! Hello fellow comrades! Oh hello someone's granny. Yes, I am adorable. Is it time to meet Jo yet? I wonder what is under this here red rug? Oooh hello....

12:01pm
I might let the coat win just this once as I have been allowed to pull all of the contents out of mummy's handbag and I poked a little boy in the eye. He pulled my hair and stole my rattle; I think it might be true love.
Are we going to the coffee shop? I only eat lunch in coffee shops**.

12:06pm
Can I have a coffee too?

12:17pm
And your biscuit?

12:56pm
Mmmmmmmmm full of milk and a little bit of mushed mango and mummy's biscuit crumbs......quite sleepy now......ooh a traffic light!!

13:29pm
Back home. Can I have a top-up slurp and then I might go to - zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

2:47pm
MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMM I'm stuck in the cot bars again!
Is it time for more milk? I think so. Yum yum yum. Oooh the mug is back again. Ouch. I appear to be stuck in the carpet once more. Memo to self: must work on balancing.
Come on mummy, I want to look at this and this and this and this and this and mouse and this and hedgehog and ooooh tasty hedegehog nose and this and this and it makes a sound and this and this and this and look I'm on all fours! Why aren't I moving?

15:31pm
I appear to have become wedged halfway underneath the sofa. Maybe that explains why people move forwards not shuffle backwards. Might adopt change of tack in attempts at movement.

16:01pm
My friend Gemma has come round! I hope all friends don't make you do leg stretches and set you tasks and make you put all your limbs in funny places. It is very tiring. But she does have a really good bag of toys and even better has a set of official looking cards hung around her neck. Now that is a good friend.

16:53pm
I want a cuddle. I'm tired. My legs feel wobbly. I'm tired. Mmmmmm nice mummy cuddles. Can we look at all the pictures of me on the fridge? Thank you mummy. Hello me! That's better. I like looking at my baby pictures. Did you know it is clinically proven to ward off grumpy symptons and appease tantrums?*** It is just about as good as being turned upside down or doing the hokey cokey. Mwhahahah I don't know what mummy is going to do when I am a Big Girl with Stroppy Fits in public. No fridges or room to swing me by ankles then!****

17:33pm
I DO NOT WANT ANY TEA. WE ARE NOT IN A COFFEE SHOP.
GET IT AWAY.
GET IT AWAY.
GET IT AWAY!

Is it time for Abney and Teal?

17:56pm
Get that spoon away from me. I can see you, mummy.

18:02pm
I can still see you. It's not going to work.

18:17pm
Can I have your dinner? But only if it is turned upside down on the carpet. Haha fooled you. We've been over this before, I am NOT eating anything.

19:05pm

Hooray it's bathtime. I have just learnt how to splash and it is actually amazing. If I bring my arm down like this it goes SPLOSH and water goes everywhere. Look look I'll do it again! I really like bath times now. The only bit I dislike is getting out and getting dried off.
It's not FAIR. Luckily I have been learning about the art of practise tantrums from my new friend Elodie and have been showing my mummy how much I intensely dislike being taken out the bath. I don't think she is very impressed.

19:14pm
Mmmmm nice snuggly jimjams. As it is winter in the frozen North I have special fleece sleepsuits to keep me warm as I am an expert at kicking my blankets off. I suspect this is a genetic flaw as when mummy wakes up her bed is half on the floor and half nibbling her up. Nice snuggle bedtime hugs too and kisses. I will do my nice goldfish impersonation now before ny bedtime milk. Guzzle guzzle.

19:38pm
See you in the morni--zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

**this genuinely is true. Alas. Or pubs. Since the middle of December, Wriggles has only eaten solids in public if there is a whizzy coffee machine nearby. Is there a medical condition which generates such symptoms? (other than Impending Toddleritus)

***this is a bit of a fib, but I am not letting on to Wriggles

****this is nowhere near as dangerous as it sounds