Emperor Penguin

It's OHs first Father's Day - but not really

He has acted like a father of three since we moved in with him but today was a little bit different, he has Indigo now too.

When we were just "seeing" each other we watched one of the Planet Earth or Life documentaries, I can't remember which series and they are similar anyway, but it was the episode with the Emperor Penguins and their battle to nurture their egg until a baby chick hatches, in the worst conditions imaginable!  I watched with OH, blinking back the tears as the male penguin braves the 120mph icy winds for the 64 day incubation period, then gives the chick back to the female when she returns. The male Emperor Penguin is unarguably the greatest father in the animal kingdom.

We were talking about this during a recent shopping trip, the kids and I and within minutes came across a plastic Emperor Penguin in a toy shop. It seemed fated that it should be OH's Father's Day present.

What makes me most grateful is his lack of experience, no family children around, he went from a single man living alone to a father of three within months. Even though we had dated for longer, he was introduced to the children 2 months before we all moved in together.

There was no plan of action or talking before hand about how things may turn out, we all just went for it with gusto. It was naturally easy for him it seems. I have him to solely thank for being a mum of four too. Not because of the obvious reason of conception, but the whole idea of having another child used to make me shudder. I had my children, end of discussion. My biological clock had well and truly died. Yet he mentioned a baby and I had a clear vision of us with a little girl. It happened and I'm eternally indebted to him. As predicted, again, he is a natural. When I watch him with her I can tell how much he loves her and how she adores him right back. They are little peas in a pod and I can't wait to sit back and observe as she starts to crawl, walk and talk, knowing he will be right there, idolising her and loving her to bits.

Growing Up Beside You

Sometimes I feel that my eldest daughter has more common sense than I do.

8 year old daughter was upset and crying at bedtime and it transpired that she feels inadequate and not able to do the things that eldest daughter can do. That others think less of her. She questioned herself and her capabilities.

I listed and agreed the strengths that eldest daughter displays and discussed the amount of praise she seems to generate from many sources for her behaviour and personality. They cannot be played down or dismissed.

Then I continued to list and praise the character of my 8 year old, her eyes lighting up when I tell her that even though she maybe a messy and disorganised person, she genuinely is the funniest person I have ever encountered. Her quick wit from such an early age, her adult sense of humour, her ability to speedily make light of an upsetting situation in exactly the right way is something I couldn't do.
I admit that she sometimes drives me to the brink of insanity, but if I am there because of another reason, she is usually the only one that can bring me back.

I tell her stories of her toddling about, cracking me up, as she was walking and talking way too early. She was the child that phoned the police every time she managed to get near the telephone unsupervised. She was the one that hid bread, cheese and margarine at the bottom of her wardrobe and we didn't find it before the field mice. She is the one that screamed loudly one new years eve, just after I had settled down with my first glass of red wine, to reveal the blood pouring from her perforated eardrum, cotton bud in hand. She is the child that climbed up the decorating step-ladders left in the bathroom by Granddad and helped herself to a bottle of camomile lotion that she subsequently drank.  The child that was messing on the stairs with an umbrella, the child that I had to tell to be careful in case she fell, seconds before slipping myself and breaking my foot. She was the child who got up excitedly in the early hours, while the rest of the house slept, to go to the holiday suitcases, all packed and ready to help herself to a full box of Calpol sachets. I tell her how important these memories are to me, how many times I have told these stories to friends and after the initial shock or upset or commotion caused, that we have giggled and commented on her sparkiness and sense of adventure.

I remind her that yes, she may be considered lazy by others, but she has always been on a different level with intelligence and could easily reap the awards that eldest receives if she could be bothered. I pointed out that yes, she would in fact look smarter for school and have perfect immaculate hair and polished shoes, if she could get out of bed swiftly in the mornings, without being asked fifteen times. I highlighted that her organisational skills are definitely not one of her strengths, but does she really care?

I also remind her that all the people around her love her exactly as she is and wouldn't dare want her to change even the slightest.

She is a "mini-me." I'm terrible. My reputation for disorganisation and messiness, for being scatty and late, precedes me. More importantly, I could care not.  I have never really been one to care about what others think. Except the ones really really close to me. No doubt, 8 year old will develop the same brazenness if she hasn't started already. Smiles concluding the end of our chat.

I'm so grateful for eldest daughter (just turned 10 years old) as she is like my second in command, ahead of OH, in fact, she could easily run the household. I ask her opinion on things that she shouldn't even be concerned with, rely on her to remind me of appointments, birthdays and shopping lists. She knows who is doing what and why. There are times I feel guilty as it feels like a role reversal and that she is the parent. I have justified it now to ease the guilt by accepting that we are just different personalities. She being the prim and perfect all rounder who will try to excel at everything she tries with 100% effort, without a hair out of place. Whereas I, well, I'm not even sure who I am yet. When I grow up I want to be like her, but for the time being, I will be the messy, loud, chaotic one with unkempt hair, giggling over the 8 year old's comical antics.

I heard a song yesterday morning for the first time that I thought of later on when talking to 8yr old girl.

Growing Up Beside You - Paolo Nutini (YouTube link)

I don't always get the way you feel,
But now I've learned to live with that.
It's like I'm a part of something real.
I was hittin' the bottle, now I've broken the seal.
Looks like I'm growing, I'm growing up beside you

And the sun sets the scene,
While the rain misses me.
And all the time I'll be growing, growing up beside you.

Worst Mother In The World.

I've been having issues with other children in our cul-de-sac who, in my eyes, bully my three kids. Whenever they play outside there seems to be an constant stream of trouble and arguing and it's gotten to a point where I have confronted the neighbours about their children's behaviour.

Looking for an alternative as I don't want to spend the summer months listening to bickering, or consoling my children after being punched or stuffed into a wheelie bin,  I suggested the children play in the next village.

Technically, the next village is a 12 minute walk away from our house, but to drive, it's two miles. The area I live in was designed with stupidity and there is one road between each village, but you can easily take a short cut on foot.

I have always been a stricter, more apprehensive parent than my friends when it comes to playing out, computer games, film content etc. It's only been since we moved to this secluded cul-de-sac last year that I have let them play in the street.

All of their school friends live in the next village along, so I suggested dropping them off by car at the village green and leaving them with their mobile phones. The idea being, that they play as a group with the gang of kids that already congregate there and phone me if they need anything. I could then swoop in 6 minutes by car and assist them. Unbeknown to them, I would also do drive-bys, acting like a kerb crawler and observing them from a distance.

Let me just explain the ages of the tribe. Eldest girl is one year away from having to travel 8 miles by bus to high school unsupervised. She is responsible and trustworthy and acts more adult and parenty that I ever could. Next daughter is nine shortly, very streetwise and clever, she doesn't miss a trick at all. Then there is the boy, he is seven on Saturday. He is my concern about this new situation.

Should I leave a seven year old to play in the next village with only the supervision of his older sisters?

There is the argument that "back in the day" kids used to roam free. There wasn't a week gone by when I was a child, without me falling in a pond whilst trying to collect frog-spawn, or coming home with bits of branches stuck in my arms and legs after falling out of a tree (taking hours to remove in A and E.)   But then we all know things are different these days. Our eyes have been opened to this ever increasing evil world around us.

He shouldn't be his sisters responsibility so I had set up some rules and he was told that if he breaks them even once, he stays at home in future. After the first couple of attempts at leaving them, it seemed a success. The girls were sat on the grass with their classmates, doing whatever it is than 10 year old girls do (bitch and gossip) while the boy played with on the lawn of one of his class mates.

I received about 15 phone calls to my mobile and an assortment of text messages assuring me that everything was fine by the eldest and there was one incident when younger daughter needed the toilet. OH did a drive-by and confirmed that all seemed well.

The boy mentioned that his friend's dad wanted my contact number so I popped over to have a word with his mum, in the playground today.

I walked away from her in tears. I was made to feel like the worst parent in the world

She being a teacher and her husband being a policeman, thought it was unthinkable that I leave the boy and demanded a contact number in case he had any problems. I tried to explain that the girls both had mobiles with them and could reach me at any time and in fact, for some of the time I was parked out of sight around the corner breastfeeding the baby. She said that she would never forgive herself if anything happened to him. I again, tried to explain that he wasn't her responsibility but she butted in and said that he was playing near her house for 90 minutes in the warm weather, without having access to a drink. It was early evening on the occasion she was referring to and I assured her that he had taken a picnic with him. She seemed equally disgusted that the girls were allowed to play there too.

Nothing I could say would inspire her to listen to my reasoning for allowing him to be there in the first place. She stated that he could come and play on her lawn any time but it would be the same as if he had gone to her house for tea, she would be watching him and be accountable.

Giving up with my protest of "That wasn't what I was trying to achieve...not dumping my child on your front garden," I just walked back to the car and broke the news to the kids.

That they could no longer go to the next village to play.

As you can probably guess, their disappointment is immense and they look at me with huge wide eyes, pleading until I confirm again, their worst fears are true, they are now limited to playing with each other in the back garden. That's when I get the looks of repulsion, confirming that I am indeed, the worst parent in world.

I need lots of suggestions and thoughts as I'm still in tears over an hour later?

How wrong was I to leave him? Do I allow the girls to go and make him stay behind? How would I explain that to him? Should none of them be allowed out of sight at all?

I also need to bear in mind that their primary school is a 3 mile walk, routing through this village. I am under heavy pressure to give consent to the girls for cycling to school alone each day. If I give in and let them, then surely being on foot 2 miles away, in said village, is safer?

Virtual Mother and Baby Group

After M was born, I became a toddler group junkie, spending my weekdays popping from one church hall to another, engaging in baby talk whilst drinking endless cups of weak, warm tea.

Luckily a group within the group formed and we bonded for life?!? Moving from the toddler groups to afternoon coffee in our homes, to pre-school and beyond, leaving the children behind and socialising together as "ladies that lunch" or drunken woman allowed out on a rare occasion to the pub.

The plan, 8 weeks ago, when the baby arrived was to yet again, infiltrate the local baby clubs and bag myself some new pals as I currently have zero in my new town.
However, things are slightly different now due to a certain social networking site. And I don't mean that certain social networking site always mentioned on The Jeremy Kyle Show, I mean the one championed by a national treasure (actor, writer, journalist, comedian, television presenter and film director.)  A moody, sulky, teenage brat of a pop singer and a silver-foxed daytime TV presenter. The site with lots of @@@@.

I have managed to acquaint myself with a variety of mums and mums-to-be on this social networking site and spent the months leading up to baby's birth, forming online relationships with them. I've had more interest and celebration from these internet strangers than from my real-world aka Facebook friends.

I now have experienced mums on tap, to quiz on random parenting issues and share my frustrations. First timers, than I can pass on my knowledge to, share birthing stories with and smile as they gush and publicly brag with overwhelming pride, at each new stage their baby enters. Then the newbies with bumps, who are teetering on the edge of a new parenting world and counting the days with excitement and fear, until their bundle arrives.

The world of mummy-blogging goes hand in hand with the @@@@ social networking site and gives a more in depth look into parenting. The darker side. The bits containing the feelings that you don't necessarily share with real friends or family or acquaintances at a toddler group. The bits that scare you or make you sad. That make you feel like a failure or abnormal. The bits that you think no other person will understand.
These posts are more valuable than any parenting handbook, as you have the author within your virtual grasp to express your observations or to probe further. Something that was written by another on the opposite side of the country, who lives in a completely different world to you, not only feels today, exactly as you do, but will happily engage in a conversation about it. Topics ranging from the practical, such as help with breastfeeding to the emotional side, dealing with difficulties that relationships can struggle with, post baby.
Of course, It's not just the negative aspects of being a mother either, but the fun stuff, the best stuff, the stuff that becomes the author's "family memories". When you read these posts, you realise how privileged you are.

The natural progression is your own blog, where you get to rant about every fear or sadness, open the floor on your parenting techniques and to tell other mums of your journey so far.
The best bit about this world is that nobody judges. It's not about your ability to write or your story telling skills, it's just about an understanding. Of being part of that mummy world.

Maybe Mother and Baby groups will become obsolete.

Every Moment Seems To Be A Parenting Fail

Leaving Indie to sleep on a corduroy cushion....

 

Another Low Point #2

After looking down and realising that I had smeared margarine across my clothed breast (must have leaned too far forward whilst buttering the toast,) I have just lifted my backside off the sofa to feel uncomfortable wetness. I have been sitting on a sick covered babywipe.

Bed-Sharing

It's so naughty and highly advised against and I remind you of my previous blog stating that I don't know best and not to follow my advice.

I currently have a leaflet next to my laptop highlighting the dangers I place my babies in, but there is something that stops me complying.

I love her sleeping in my bed. She sleeps between myself and OH and she wriggles between us and snuggles up in the middle of the night.

I always thought of it as a reward for breastfeeding. The ease of not having to move when she wants feeding in the early hours and we both stay cosy.

I understand the risks, that I could smother her in my sleep, she could overheat or she could manoeuvre out of the bed. But there is something natural and animalistic about it.

Dude (the cat) slept with her kittens. She drifted off to sleep as they fed until their bellies were full and nodded off themselves.

I think of my bed as my nest, somewhere safe and sacred. I love feeding my young in bed with my partner lying next to us.

http://www.babyfriendly.org.uk/pdfs/sharingbedleaflet.pdf

Novice

Even though I have just given birth for the fourth time, please don't assume I know what I am doing.

It could be the age gap between baby 3 and baby 4 or my ever decreasing brain cells allowing me to forget, but I feel like a first time mum again.

I almost grabbed the Health Visitor as she was about to leave, to plead with her for more information, more leaflets and more support because I didn't feel she gave me her all, her very best, during my first home visit.

She was fairly dismissive with my questions and regularly made reference to the other three monkeys that were building a den* in the garden.

* It was the most fabulous den made with sheer brilliance and I was so proud of them.

I pointed out that everything changes and guidance given ten years ago from my previous lovely helpful Health Visitor was now either dis-proven, extinct or further developed.

Even the Midwives seemed to all be reading off different hymn sheets.
Midwife 1 advises me to breastfeed from both sides.
Midwife 2 (weighs baby regularly due to weight loss) advises to just feed off one side for up to forty minutes, as the best fatty milk it right at the end.
Midwife 3 says in shock..."Sandra really told you that? Because we all attended a session which said that was absolute rubbish and you can feed off both sides. The milk is all the same."

Smashing.

I have a confidence about me, that I don't think I had for awhile with baby 1. More so, the knowledge that I have no reason to panic about everything and that although she is super tiny, she won't break when I try to bend her arms into the babygrow or her little body doesn't need to be wrapped in layers and layers of warm clothes before swaddling her in twenty blankets. I'm also more relaxed with allowing other children to manhandle my bundle of joy, knowing again, they won't necessarily drop and smash her.
I also think I have a slight better understanding than a first time mum of the different types of baby cries. I know there are some that don't need split second attention.
I still don't want others to think that I am 100% in knowing what I am doing is right or that any guidance or advice will be rubbished. It's all welcome.

She is OH's first baby and he is doing remarkably well. Completely relaxed, he seems to know exactly what he is doing, like he has secretly been reading every parenting handbook on the side. He definitely doesn't act like a first time parent. Maybe he has confidence knowing there is a (clueless) fourth-timer in the household?

I like that I don't feel arrogant, that I don't feel that I have "been there, done that!" I don't think that attitude would be fair to OH.

I have been reading booklets this morning on topics that I should really know tonnes about and am nervous about attending a breastfeeding group next week. Fancied somewhere that I could get a cup of tea amongst friendly mums and know that I could get my knockers out to feed the baby in safety. But the Midwife told me that the woman who runs the group will be so pleased when I go, a "breastfeeding pro," she referred to me as. That Barbara will be making me attend all the new parent/parent to be sessions to teach them all the tricks.

Arghhhhh, was she not listening to my thirty questions on breastfeeding baby 4 because I wasn't sure I was doing it right?

So please, anyone reading this, don't take my advice, don't assume I know it all. By all means, I am happy to tell others how I manage things IF THEY ASK! But I am definitely not one of those mums, that force their ways onto a newbie.