Phew! The monster has abated!
The last couple of weeks have been a bit tough, but rather than the monster I thought the in-laws had created, instead I discovered on Monday the cause of the current grizzly behaviour - Mini's first teeth!!!
Once I realised what the problem was, it of course all seemed so much easier, baby coke was administered (at least I have been told that is the powders name on the street scene of Wimbledon, at the chemist I actually asked for teething granules.) I also resorted to the miracle cure of Calpol, which had the required effect.
Today Mini is restored to the little joy I can't quite believe is a product of the grumpy husband and my worrying self. She is chilled, giggling, splashing about when we took her swimming, and cutest of all, just learning how to kiss.
So now that the baby of the family is back behaving on form, I just have to manage the bigger baby. The Husband is wanting to watch a Stephen King film, only he gets scared easily so is insisting I watch it with him - think this sacrifice means a few babysitting sessions are owed!
Monday, 25 May 2009
Tuesday, 12 May 2009
We have created a monster....
Yesterday we returned from a long weekend at the outlaws.
I know there are the stereotype relationships with mother-in-laws etc - but it was actually an excellent weekend - thanks largely to the fact that I am no longer feeding Mini in the night - so not feeling totally exhausted. Am so much better at in-law diplomacy when not exhausted.
Anyway - we had a really fun time and they enjoyed spending so much time with Mini. The Husband and I loved it as we were able to head out for dinner on the Sunday, our second solo since Mini's arrival.
The biggest treat of all though was a shopping trip and lunch on Monday morning before heading back to London. I restrained myself quite well on the credit card front, namely because I still have some weight to loose and positively REFUSE to buy anything in a larger size. In all it felt like a complete holiday, especially as the weather was generally good.
Mini was fully entertained, we bought her a new bouncer toy, she was sung to, cooed over and generally made a fuss of every waking moment.
And now reality! With just mum for entertainment she has become a grizzle monster. Whereas pre-friday I could leave her on the playmat happily chatting to her friends the elephant and the snake, now I have to have her in the baby bjorn whilst hanging out the washing!
I am hoping the tantrums will pass, if not - visits to the outlaws will be strictly limited in future!
I know there are the stereotype relationships with mother-in-laws etc - but it was actually an excellent weekend - thanks largely to the fact that I am no longer feeding Mini in the night - so not feeling totally exhausted. Am so much better at in-law diplomacy when not exhausted.
Anyway - we had a really fun time and they enjoyed spending so much time with Mini. The Husband and I loved it as we were able to head out for dinner on the Sunday, our second solo since Mini's arrival.
The biggest treat of all though was a shopping trip and lunch on Monday morning before heading back to London. I restrained myself quite well on the credit card front, namely because I still have some weight to loose and positively REFUSE to buy anything in a larger size. In all it felt like a complete holiday, especially as the weather was generally good.
Mini was fully entertained, we bought her a new bouncer toy, she was sung to, cooed over and generally made a fuss of every waking moment.
And now reality! With just mum for entertainment she has become a grizzle monster. Whereas pre-friday I could leave her on the playmat happily chatting to her friends the elephant and the snake, now I have to have her in the baby bjorn whilst hanging out the washing!
I am hoping the tantrums will pass, if not - visits to the outlaws will be strictly limited in future!
Monday, 4 May 2009
Digestion troubles..
I have read as much current information on weaning as my frazzled brain can stand in trying to decide whether to start weaning Mini.
In the past my brain has risen to such challenges as a degree, a post graduate degree obtained whilst working full time, and compiling a series of spreadsheets with multimillion pound valuations which all had to sync perfectly. My brain managed the challenge in a satisfactory manner. In fact I spent three years at university studying an arts degree to specifically train my brain to consume a vast array of information, digest it, reach an informed conclusion and the argue the case with supporting evidence. Obviously the obligatory alcohol consumption helped in the training process by killing off the weaker cells - but woe - I think now even those weaker cells would be of use.
I guess some pregnancy hormone must kick in during the nine months to undo all this hard work as I have spent the past three weeks trying to decide whether to start weaning before the advised six months.
As a new parent I find the amount of conflicting information one of the most difficult things to cope with (aside from the sleep issues obviously). Having decided to start introducing solids very very slowly because Mini met all the signs (advice from weaning guru #1) my mother was visibly relieved and promptly told me that my brothers and I were all on three meals a day at four months and I should have introduced the stuff weeks ago and don't faff around with one teaspoon at a time, it didn't hurt us (on consideration I definitely stuck with the one teaspoon!).
On the advice of weaning guru #2 I delayed for a further week, then speaking to the pharmacist I felt reassured to start very slowly. After the first three sessions of baby rice (inhaled by Mini) this reassurance was rocked after reading guidance on baby led weaning which sent me back into a spiral of panicking. At the monthly weigh-in (Mini's, not mine - yet!) I was initially told off for the solids, but then congratulated as she wasn't gaining weight at the same rate. However this glow of praise soon faded when the joys of google revealed more studies and more conflicting advice.
By now we have very slowly covered all the beginners first tastes. The Husband doesn't seem to realise that the diarised tasting plan is the closest my brain has come to re-ignition since mid November and even then I managed to get my swede and sweet potato days muddled up!! In fact he had the temerity to suggest that Mini might find the Cow & Gate baby jar of carrot and orange more exciting and tasty than the carefully steamed organic vegetables and fruit which I have lovingly pureed, diligently teaspooned into Mini's mini containers, frozen, labelled neatly and filed, sorry stored, in date order. The suggestion met with short shrift involving a long series of expletives and the suggestion he read the weaning guru book from cover to cover before offering his view, unsolicited, again.
So having spent the weeks panicking that I am doing Mini untold harm I have decided to stop worrying. The fact that Mini seems perfectly happy and healthy, practically inhaled her pureed butternut squash today and seems to love trying to put the spoon in her mouth all by herself should be enough to reassure me that I am doing the right thing. I still worry when awake at five am, just as I worry that giving up breasfeeding is the wrong thing to do, but ultimately I am trying to do what I think is the best for Mini, and that is really all anyone can expect.
If only each baby came with its own specific manual life would be so much easier.
In the past my brain has risen to such challenges as a degree, a post graduate degree obtained whilst working full time, and compiling a series of spreadsheets with multimillion pound valuations which all had to sync perfectly. My brain managed the challenge in a satisfactory manner. In fact I spent three years at university studying an arts degree to specifically train my brain to consume a vast array of information, digest it, reach an informed conclusion and the argue the case with supporting evidence. Obviously the obligatory alcohol consumption helped in the training process by killing off the weaker cells - but woe - I think now even those weaker cells would be of use.
I guess some pregnancy hormone must kick in during the nine months to undo all this hard work as I have spent the past three weeks trying to decide whether to start weaning before the advised six months.
As a new parent I find the amount of conflicting information one of the most difficult things to cope with (aside from the sleep issues obviously). Having decided to start introducing solids very very slowly because Mini met all the signs (advice from weaning guru #1) my mother was visibly relieved and promptly told me that my brothers and I were all on three meals a day at four months and I should have introduced the stuff weeks ago and don't faff around with one teaspoon at a time, it didn't hurt us (on consideration I definitely stuck with the one teaspoon!).
On the advice of weaning guru #2 I delayed for a further week, then speaking to the pharmacist I felt reassured to start very slowly. After the first three sessions of baby rice (inhaled by Mini) this reassurance was rocked after reading guidance on baby led weaning which sent me back into a spiral of panicking. At the monthly weigh-in (Mini's, not mine - yet!) I was initially told off for the solids, but then congratulated as she wasn't gaining weight at the same rate. However this glow of praise soon faded when the joys of google revealed more studies and more conflicting advice.
By now we have very slowly covered all the beginners first tastes. The Husband doesn't seem to realise that the diarised tasting plan is the closest my brain has come to re-ignition since mid November and even then I managed to get my swede and sweet potato days muddled up!! In fact he had the temerity to suggest that Mini might find the Cow & Gate baby jar of carrot and orange more exciting and tasty than the carefully steamed organic vegetables and fruit which I have lovingly pureed, diligently teaspooned into Mini's mini containers, frozen, labelled neatly and filed, sorry stored, in date order. The suggestion met with short shrift involving a long series of expletives and the suggestion he read the weaning guru book from cover to cover before offering his view, unsolicited, again.
So having spent the weeks panicking that I am doing Mini untold harm I have decided to stop worrying. The fact that Mini seems perfectly happy and healthy, practically inhaled her pureed butternut squash today and seems to love trying to put the spoon in her mouth all by herself should be enough to reassure me that I am doing the right thing. I still worry when awake at five am, just as I worry that giving up breasfeeding is the wrong thing to do, but ultimately I am trying to do what I think is the best for Mini, and that is really all anyone can expect.
If only each baby came with its own specific manual life would be so much easier.
Saturday, 2 May 2009
Redundancy Daddies
Obviously I tell the husband that my days pass by in a blur of baby related/domestic activity which is why I am never on top of the cleaning, always running out of milk and never up to date with filing the bank statements.
I stress I never have a minute to myself, or even a chance to sit down, and therefore hide the well thumbed Grazia in the laundry bag!
Yesterday was no exception - I set up my blog and then spent the rest of the day in the park with the girls. Obviously this sort of housewifely activity was bliss,and makes up for the sleepless nights. The darling little monkey was perfectly well behaved, with very little crying activity going on and looking particularly cute in her new pink and white summer trousers, which co-ordinated beautifully with the new Bugaboo colours (ebay bargain, less than 50% RRP).
After a civilised picnic, which was finished with strawberries dipped in chocolate spread, we had a stroll around the park admiring the blossoms. And after these strenuous activities we retired to a cafe in the village for a well earned refreshment. It was at this point, from our people watching pavement perch, that I noticed an alarming trend.
The village itself gives no outward signs of any credit crunch impact. Shops are not vacant, there are very few 50% off signs, (which is probably because in the boutiques even at half price the clothes are still unaffordable to mere mortals) and the cafes and restaurants are still overflowing. There was only one hint that all was not well in la la land, the number of well dressed daddies pushing buggies.
Now maybe it was just that they were all rather dashingly attractive and that is why we noticed them, or maybe they had taken an inpromptu opportunity to enjoy the sun and have a long staycation bank holiday, but we came to the conclusion that they were in fact the first wave of Redundancy Daddies, enjoying their time off from their (presumably) finance related job.
The realisation of this potential new phenomenon sent shivers down my spine.
So far the husband has kept his head down and survived the numerous culls over the last six months at the Scottish bank (I think the fact he doesn't receive the six figure bonuses means he is not a prime target). But the idea of him at home the whole time is a truly terrifying prospect.
Quite apart from the financial implications (and they would be significant) - he might actually discover that on these sunny days (the first of many?), far from the life of domestic drudgery I claim, I am in fact having the life of Riley. Then how do I explain the lack of ironed shirts on a Monday morning?
I stress I never have a minute to myself, or even a chance to sit down, and therefore hide the well thumbed Grazia in the laundry bag!
Yesterday was no exception - I set up my blog and then spent the rest of the day in the park with the girls. Obviously this sort of housewifely activity was bliss,and makes up for the sleepless nights. The darling little monkey was perfectly well behaved, with very little crying activity going on and looking particularly cute in her new pink and white summer trousers, which co-ordinated beautifully with the new Bugaboo colours (ebay bargain, less than 50% RRP).
After a civilised picnic, which was finished with strawberries dipped in chocolate spread, we had a stroll around the park admiring the blossoms. And after these strenuous activities we retired to a cafe in the village for a well earned refreshment. It was at this point, from our people watching pavement perch, that I noticed an alarming trend.
The village itself gives no outward signs of any credit crunch impact. Shops are not vacant, there are very few 50% off signs, (which is probably because in the boutiques even at half price the clothes are still unaffordable to mere mortals) and the cafes and restaurants are still overflowing. There was only one hint that all was not well in la la land, the number of well dressed daddies pushing buggies.
Now maybe it was just that they were all rather dashingly attractive and that is why we noticed them, or maybe they had taken an inpromptu opportunity to enjoy the sun and have a long staycation bank holiday, but we came to the conclusion that they were in fact the first wave of Redundancy Daddies, enjoying their time off from their (presumably) finance related job.
The realisation of this potential new phenomenon sent shivers down my spine.
So far the husband has kept his head down and survived the numerous culls over the last six months at the Scottish bank (I think the fact he doesn't receive the six figure bonuses means he is not a prime target). But the idea of him at home the whole time is a truly terrifying prospect.
Quite apart from the financial implications (and they would be significant) - he might actually discover that on these sunny days (the first of many?), far from the life of domestic drudgery I claim, I am in fact having the life of Riley. Then how do I explain the lack of ironed shirts on a Monday morning?
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