Archive for the ‘Personal stories’ Category
You are currently browsing the archives for the Personal stories category.
By MNLSpayday loans
You are currently browsing the archives for the Personal stories category.
Kat from Bambino Goodies is one of my heroes. She is everything I fantasise about being (an organised, arty, crafty, colourful, original, earthy type of mother) – and then I wake up and remember I am the neutral loving, control freak, can’t sew a button on, bossy type of mother. We do seem to share a love of Made in Chelsea though, and I bet she didn’t see THREE different cast members last week, so perhaps it is only a matter of time before I catch up in the mothering stakes. I am sure these things are related.
We do both love kids parties though, and I know it’s outrageous, but as opposed to wardrobes and furnishings, I do allow bright colours at parties – go ME. So she inspired me with this post on party bag favours on a budget, and just to show she is not ALWAYS THE BEST, I am totally going to outdo her. Following are some genius ideas for cheap-ish party bags (I am also the best at boasting. Is that tautological?)
I have a son who is very original. For example, he enjoys making car noises, pretending to be a robot, and reading about dinosaurs. Particularly pirate dinosaurs. I know – unheard of for a four year old boy. Clearly dressing him in pink tee-shirts and encouraging dancing has done NOTHING in the battle against gender stereotyping. But more than dinosaurs and cars and trains, above all other things he wants to be a superhero (his special power would apparently be ‘running faster than daddy’ – I never said he was a genius). And so, for his birthday all he wanted in the world was a superhero party. Which causes some distress for a mother who is ambivalent about superheroes and character-based parties in general. So I turned to my friend da Internet – and discovered a lovely world of non-Pixar superhero parties. And thus a superhero party that suited both mother and son was initiated.
As much as we all try and remain completely impartial regarding the direction in which we steer our kids’ interests, there is a very fine line between nurturing a child’s natural abilities, encouraging their given interests (very important) and steering them towards the achievement of your own unfulfilled ambitions and lost hopes and desires. I am of course not one of these parents but, as luck would have it, my children have exhibited some very early genius in their play with lego. So when I crouch by their cots at night whispering ‘architect, architect, architect’ in to their sweet little ears I am merely celebrating the good fortune that has ensured that their natural abilities and my hopes for them happily coincide on a path to greatness.
This complete lack of self-interest and impartial guidance will undoubtedly ensure that we avoid tnhat whole messy parent-child conflict in this area.
I do recognise, however, that things don’t always go according to plan and in my open mindedness I don’t want to discourage my children from being anything they want to be. At least not right now. Unfortunately, creative professions don’t have the cache they should for a toddler. It’s challenging to dress your child as an architect, art director, costume designer, scriptwriter, filmmaker or commercially successful artist on dress-up day. Black rimmed glasses and turtlenecks just don’t have the same impact as a white coat and stethoscope or fireman outfit.
We’ve been spending a lot of time recently talking about children’s birthday parties. Well, I have been talking, Jacqui has been doing some head shaking. And some muttering under her breath. But I think secretly she is obsessed as I am. Because I am a little bit. I think it’s the cake. And maybe the idea of bunting – I do love a bit of bunting. But mostly the cake. Oh, and umm of course, the delight on small children’s faces.
Well most wouldn’t even attempt it, but there are a lucky few that perhaps have flexible hours, an understanding boss and colleagues, a quiet place in the office where they can express milk and the ability to get away from their desk for about 20 minutes at pretty much exactly the same time each day to do so, and these people could perhaps give it a try.
I am one of the lucky people whose work pretty much meets all those criteria – except for occasionally, but not often, not being able to get away to express for 20 minutes at exactly the right time. The baby is five months old and I wanted to continue breastfeeding until she was at least six months. But the breastfeeding-after-returning-to-work isn’t working out.
I started a new job last week. Just four hours in the morning. Perfect, one would think (except for the pay that barely makes it worth working after paying for childcare, but that’s for another post). I thought I could easily continue breastfeeding with this kind of easing-back-into-it schedule, ‘The baby will only skip one feed and I can express one feed at work’.
No I’m not talking about Kate’s dance moves. Although I can assure you she can pull off the snap and pop manoeuvre competently. No I am speaking of child birth. Yes, right on the heels (well, 5 months after…heel-ish) of Kate’s announcement, “Jacqui finally pops” one can almost hear sounds akin to a child with bubble packing as the onedayyoullthankme team pops again, this time to the tune of the third member of Kate’s brood – a lovely little girl. She’s totally gorgeous (no I know, I know but actually she really is) and that can not be said about many newborns. Congratulations Kate, Captain Sensible, sensible junior and the lovely, newly relegated to middle princess (formerly but no longer known as the youngest). We hope she brings you much joy and doesn’t steal all your toys (the kids’ toys Captain, not yours. You should be sharing by now).
Wondering what to do about a gift? Apparently the newest addition to Kate’s family very much likes Chocolate and Pipers Brook Sparkling.
I guess I gathered that at some stage around the age of two years toddlers could get a bit difficult, given the existence of the ‘Terrible Twos’ phrase, but on the scant occasions I contemplated that there might be worse to come, I thought, “how much more difficult could it really be than the first 18 months?” Well. JAAAAYSUS Christ. Terrible was a diplomatic choice of adjective. My son is nudging two and, BAM, no sooner were we beginning to contemplate the impending loss of his free flying status than he goes from being a fairly frequent pain in the arse to being a constantly screaming, tantrum-throwing, shouty, crying bi-polar maniac.
Maybe what we’re experiencing is not The Terrible Twos but some ‘acting out’ (are we still using that phrase?) in response to the arrival of his new sister. It doesn’t really matter, it all falls nicely into the category of Terrible.
I have one important question I keep coming back to this week – does having a new-born baby mean you automatically go mental?
The standard cliché suggests that all mothers go a bit doolally. Which could be true. Apart from me obviously. And readers of this blog. But personally I think it’s just those who are inherently loopy to start with – I mean, I am sure I have my mad moments as a parent – but I SWEAR for some people, the meeting of sperm and egg totally rouses their inner craziness until it bursts out loud and proud at about the same time as their placenta.
I sat in an antenatal clinic this week for an hour. When sizing up the waiting room prior to taking my seat (something I like to do at length from a secret vantage point, such is my fear of a stranger smiling at me, or god forbid, striking up a conversation), I decided against the slightly ferocious looking grey-haired 50 year old woman (I’m not sure what she was doing in an antenatal clinic either) and chose the very normal looking woman in her gym clothes with a McLaren buggy at her side.
We’re back! Refreshed and ready to go. Well, kind of still a bit sleep deprived and distracted, but less so and relatively speaking. I’m at the highest point of my game possible for the foreseeable future. I’m past the dreaded first three months of the second baby so I’m back on easy street – as easy as they get in the suburb of Two Kids (under two) on The Block. New baby is, by the way, completely objectively, very beautiful.
Kate on the other hand is about to pass through the choppy waters of another newborn. In case you missed it she and Captain Sensible have number three on the way. I haven’t told Kate yet but when a mother of three saw another mother of two cooing over my baby at the playground the other day, she warned ominously that a third was a whole other ball game. Two was difficult. Three was utter chaos. On the upside, after that, they say it can’t get any more difficult. Three, ten, all the same . We’ll see – Kate will be telling us all about it. In the meantime, I can report that for me two is on the one hand, not double the trouble, but not filled with many moments that permit you to gaze lovingly and tranquilly on the children that are your joyous good fortune to have.
NEWS JUST IN – JACQUI FINALLY POPS! GORGEOUS BABY GIRL BORN ON CHRISTMAS EVE.
I’ve seen the pictures – she’s Jacqui with massive cheeks. Divine. I’m afraid the epidural plan didn’t go quite to plan but no doubt she’ll be able to get some good gags out of it when she’s repressed the memories… From all of us at ODYTM (that would be me), lots of love and congrats to Jac and the Spaniard. x
And here is something she prepared the day before….
If you are reading this I am in hospital or looking after a newborn child. Oooh, that felt JUST like a line from a Murder, She Wrote. If I wasn’t feeling so completely haggard (and I say that writing this BEFORE labour) I’d do a video blog so that it could be just like one of those episodes where the family are sitting around watching a video that starts “if you are watching this I have been murdered”. Obviously with somewhat less drama. While labour may feel like murder it isn’t quite, especially if the epidural administration goes according to plan this time. But alas I am not prepared to let anyone see the fantastical proportions that (what I hope) is water retention has added to my face. If it’s not water retention, the cookie eating regime has quite suddenly decided to make itself noticed. Either way it’s not good. So no video. Also, I’m not sure, because I’ve never really tested it, but I think perhaps I can’t act. So I probably couldn’t pull off the appropriate level of mock seriousness for the “If you are watching this..” video.
Assisted by App Store Assistant