Motherhood:Welcome to the jungle! We’ve got fun & games. 

Motherhood! As Guns and Roses described it so aptly, “Welcome to the jungle! we’ve got fun and games!”

It’s like having a very nervous, dependant, excitable and energetic puppy dog for some of the time and a very old, wise, independent yet loves his cuddles cat the rest. Speaking from an animal lovers perspective of course. And throw in the occasional moments of your typical cheeky monkey that pees in your direction and throws his banana skin at you, mixed in with the obligatory goldfish that likes to suck your finger. As you watch them grow you’ll find they begin to develop into a squaking, mimicking parrot with the temper of a chimpanzee who just wants his food and will bang his fists on the table to demand it then promptly nibble it and throw it at you if they’re not filling their cheeks full of it in true hamster fashion. Followed by the beautiful moments they begin to emerge as a worm, wriggling across the floor, with the odd meercat moment up on their knees and then one day they just walk across the room to you nonchalantly like its something they have done all their life! Then there’s bath times. You’ll either get a cross between a dolphin, confidently flipping and flapping around without a care for how much water covers their face. Then there’s the occasions when your confident dolphin decides to be an extremely rigid and determined not to get clean moggy who will do anything in its power to avoid having that water touch them.

So if you ever want a small inkling of the honest trials of motherhood just imagine you are in the zoo. As much as you’ll enjoy watching these creatures in their habitats and observing their behaviour, you’ll sympathise with the zoo keeper for the marvellous job they do at just keeping the animals clean, fed, watered and happy.

Until next time……

Holiday to Loch Ness, Scotland.

This post will make you think twice about rushing around in a hurry. Our lives are so busy these days, but trust me, you can make your life so much more difficult in just a few seconds. Read more to find out how a holiday to Scotland became memorable for all the wrong reasons.

So it all started with a memorable (maybe for all the wrong reasons) but  lovely family holiday to Scotland to celebrate my mums 70th birthday. She’s not an old dear mind you, so do not by any means start conjuring up images of a decrepit old lady. Oh no! My mum has been likened to giving Helen Mirren a run for her money. Faux leather waterfall jacket and denim jeans and all.

The week had a few surprises, most of them nice and most of them for my mum. However, unfortunately, the last surprise of the week was going to be for me. To cut a rather long and painful story short I’ll break it down into one word descriptions. Packing, spillage, slipped, fell, arm, numb, crying, A&E, X-ray, pain, bruising and then we arrived back in England.

On the advice of the A&E department in Scotland, I kept my arm moving over the course of the next week, possibly too much. 8 days later the elbow began, rather unpleasantly, popping in and out of the socket. One trip to the GP surgery, one referral to my local A&E, one more set of X-Rays, one week with my arm in a sling and one follow up appointment at fracture clinic later and I found myself as an inpatient on an orthopaedic ward awaiting a place in theatre!

sad, arm, sling, home
This was now 18 days after my fall. One overnight stay and a 9 hour fast later, the consultant decided he couldn’t fit me in that day and sent me home to return two days later.  hospital, cannula, procedure

Finally, 21 days after my fall, I was anaesthetised and wheeled into theatre where the consultant and his happy team were able to manipulate my elbow back into place and send me on my merry way with no more than a few cannula bruises and a feeling that I need to not rush about in future.  Bruising, Arm

Until hopefully NOT next time….

Baby led weaning… George style 

This post is all about our experience at the early days of baby led weaning, although we didn’t use this method from the start and it wasn’t an exclusive method for us.

[edit: since writing this post, back in the day, I have since realised that we wasn’t very good at baby led weaning at all. So if you would like to read a post about an exasperated mothers comical attempts at getting her baby to wean then this post is for you. However, if you want a comprehensive guide on how to do baby led weaning then I suggest you keep on scrolling because you won’t find that here]

After a week of suddenly refusing food, I was starting to think our Gorgeous George had become the first 9 month old to develop an eating disorder! I had tried every trick in the book. Although none of these tricks came to me from a book but rather from well wishing friends and family and facebookers. He had suddenly turned from a one and a half pouch per meal kinda baby to a “you’ll be lucky if you get that spoon past my lips 5 times mummy” kinda baby. His milk intake was gradually increasing in frequency again and I was starting to fill with dread. We’ve breastfed exclusively more or less for the last 9 months but this past week of having my nipple yanked and laughed at had completely made me wanna jack the whole thing in. So off I went to the local supermarket and guiltily picked up my first tin of follow on formula. There’s no reason to feel guilty and I would by no means recommend inflicting these feelings upon yourself but ever since I became a mum I constantly challenge myself for not being able to do right for doing wrong. Something I have discovered is normal Mummy behaviour, (whatever that is).

So overall we were in a pretty unhappy house with me wondering why on earth George wouldn’t let me feed him! He was holding his own spoon, he had plenty of high chair entertainment. His high chair did a tour of our small house to see if maybe he wanted to watch tele, look out the window, watch the washing machine, listen to the radio, anything to distract him whilst I slipped some yummy spoonfuls of the latest Ella’s kitchen past his lips. We were also trying a mix of baby led weaning and from near on 6 months old had been giving him little bits to chomp on. All of which scared the hell out of me. He was happy to pick them up and put them in his mouth but any swallowing of lumps was out of the question and he soon became a master at gagging.

It was only when my sister observed me giving him milk on demand not more than an hour before his “dinnertime” that she suggested when he asks for milk I give him food and give him the milk after. A fresh pair of eyes she called it. I  couldn’t believe I’d been tearing my hair out when the answer was staring me in the face. The reality is that is doesn’t actually matter. As long as he is exploring different foods and textures, it’s not like we’ll still be spooning prunes, pumpkins and pear pouches into his mouth at 18 years old. “But the pouch says from 7 months so he should be eating it surely! Why won’t he eat it?” My poor exhausted mummy mind cries out whilst I give him the spoon to the tune of “George do it” and get showered in Lancashire hot pot before he smuggly puts the empty spoon in his mouth.  His willingness to eat is slowly improving and his desire to explore new foods is extending to grabbing food off my plate. I even caught him eagerly tasting the cats biscuits today. It makes a change from tipping the bowls upside down and playing them like bongos. He also quite enjoys sucking on the shoe of our latest visitor or testing out his two lovely bottom teeth by biting my big toe. He was even eyeing up my mum’s coal in the unused fire the other day, with me having to point out not to touch it, whilst my step dad pointed out not to worry because they all ate coal when he was little! The child has the bizarre cravings of a pregnant woman!

For now I will continue to offer him a variety, and persevere as many fellow mummies have highlighted to me “food before one is just for fun”. Don’t tell George though. Baby led weaning, it’s a George thing, or not.

Until next time….

Life through the overactive imagination of one ordinary girl turned mummy.