Curled up safe – as horror unfolded in Manchester
My sweet boy,
As the bomb at Manchester Arena detonated on Monday night, you had just woken up.
As I shushed you and cuddled you, other mothers were finding themselves in a living nightmare.
As you eventually went back to sleep, tucked up in bed with me, news of the deaths of little ones, just a few years older than you was starting to spread.
When we woke it was to the horror that 22 people were dead – that a pop concert, that was packed with youngsters, had been targeted by terrorists.
I’ve been cuddling you just a touch tighter ever since. Continue reading
Prosecco and a newborn: And I deserved every sip
This week, so-called “slummy mummies” have come in for a bit of a lambasting.
Authors of books such as Hurrah for Gin and the Unmumsy Mum (who I adore) have been decried by a national newspaper for sharing their exploits of feeding their toddlers frozen fish fingers, swigging gin from baby cups and potty mouthed ranting about their kids online.
Which, as a mama and coming hot on the heels of mental health awareness week, rather makes my blood boil.
Being a mum is hard. Don’t get me wrong, I ADORE being a mother. Sonny Jim is truly all my oh-so-long awaited dreams come true. But I’m not superwoman – try as I may. Continue reading
Starting him young – I want Sonny Jim to be sea safe
What are the most important lessons we teach our children?
Don’t talk to strangers. Look both ways before you cross the road. Don’t tell lies.
How about learning to swim?
As the weather (finally!) starts warming up again, and Whit Monday and the summer holidays inch ever closer, we’re likely to be making the most of our beaches with our little ones.
And with all the fun to be had by the shore, it’s easy to forget just how dangerous it can be.
Drowning is the third highest cause of accidental death of children in the UK. More than 400 people accidentally drown in the UK every year – that’s one every 20 hours. Continue reading
Toddler life: Someone always ends up in their pants…
The other night, I was stood in the nursery at 1am trying to get Sonny Jim back into his cot without him waking up.
As I oh-so-gently tried to slide my arm from underneath his back I heard a group of drunkenly happy people chatting loudly as they wandered along our road.
I couldn’t help but smile somewhat ruefully at how times have changed (while inwardly praying they didn’t wake Sonny Jim.) But it got me thinking how actually, there’s a few similarities between those drunken nights out and life with a toddler…
You’re up all night. You know you’ll be tired the next day, but what can you do? Continue reading
Sweet boy: Sonny Jim has taught me a lot
First things first. I’m not one of those mums who, when asked how old their child is, replies with something like 47 weeks, or 22 months.
My maths isn’t good enough for that. I stopped with the weeks things when I got muddled up at around 14 weeks (or was it 15 weeks?)
Anyway. Sonny Jim is one. BUT as I have 13 points, it kinda wraps things up nicely to tie that in with the fact he is almost 13 months.
Right. That’s that cleared up.
Here are the 13 things that motherhood has taught me so far: (Obviously there are a lot more than this – some big, some small – but these are the ones my damn-that-sleep-regression-or-is-it-teeth muddled brain can bring to mind right at this moment.) Continue reading
A year ago today: Finally I hold my baby boy in my arms
Today Sonny Jim is one. ONE. I’m going to have to drink a lot of Prosecco to cope with this fact. But anyway. His first birthday has got me thinking about my first (giving) birth day. And as every woman’s birth experiences are so different I figured I’d share my own little labour of love…
9pm, March 21 – six days before baby’s due date: I’m making chocolate Ferrero Rocher balls, having painted a patch on the kitchen ceiling earlier in the day. My belly aches a bit, but I am TOTALLY DETERMINED that I must make these chocolate balls. I don’t know why. It doesn’t occcur to me that I am displaying the classic nesting-overload-so-baby-must-imminent signs, because I have NO desire to clean the kitchen floor. Or rearrange cupboards.
10.30pm: Go to bed and actually sleep for more than two hours without needing to pee. Continue reading
My heart: I love you, Sonny Jim
My sweet boy,
I’m writing this a couple of weeks before your first birthday. You’re having a little nap in your cot. Your daddy is on your Uncle Sam’s stag weekend. I have a horrid cold, which I imagine you will pick up any day now. There are a million things I should be doing, but I’m writing you this letter to open on your 18th birthday.
We’ve asked all your family and our friends to write you a letter for your first birthday – we’re going to keep them in a box. Your daddy and I figured it would be a fun thing to open in 17 years time. Well, I hope it’s fun. And interesting. And a little window in 2034 into a world long past.
I can’t imagine you at 18, my little Sonny Jim. Right now, you’ve just mastered crawling. You have one tooth (that you won’t show anyone) and the *best* giggle. You’ve just started saying mama – and you say it a lot. To everything. And everyone. And every time it makes my heart do a little squeeze (even if it’s at 3am. We need to work on your sleeping. I bet you sleep past 5.30am now though!) Continue reading