The Incredibles 2 - a trip with my boys

Now that the older boys are a bit less feral, it's actually pretty enjoyable to be out and about with them.
All the little things that used to completely stress me out when we went places (escalators, negotiating car parks, toileting) are all a thing of the past, and I have to say - it feels so chilled to go out with my older sons now.

I feel like I have earned this.

I've been working pretty hard over the summer - which has given me massive mum-guilt.  The kids really haven't had the best of me this summer at all - even on holiday I still had to deal with work - so when we catch a few hours together, I try my best to make them as fun as possible.

Despite having our alone time yesterday and having filled my work hours for the week, I still had work to do and things to deal with, and the boys were yet again dragged along for the ride.  It was a hot hot hot day, and there was **SHOCK** NO INTERNET!!
(Which was the issue I had to deal with at work)
So while I spent a few hours dealing with being on hold to BT and sorting out various other issues which I always liken to fighting zombies...there's lots of them, they are relentless, and the don't care if you are ready for them or not; the boys were not up for quietly sitting.  There was no internet, therefore there was NOTHING TO DO.

They were annoying.  I wasn't listening.  We stayed way longer than I had told them we would.  I had been actively ignoring them for 6 and a half hours to prioritise work.

It didn't end well.  There might have been shouting from all of us.

I stopped.



We went out for lunch.  We got pizza together and I began to relax.  The pizza place is beside the cinema, and one thing led to another and....

Last night we went to the cinema together for the first time since I started my new job, which is MONTHS ago now.

We went to see The Incredibles 2.

The irony is not lost on me that this brilliantly done and seamless sequel to The Incredibles features Elastigirl, or 'Mrs Incredible' taking the lead as the breadwinner for her family.  She has to give up family life to prove herself and become the poster-girl for superheroes.

Ethan exclaimed at the amount of adults in the audience: 'Where are the kids?  Why are they coming on their own?!'

He was right; there were a lot of couples in the audience - notably women.  With plenty of references to parenting, life as a working mum, life as a stay at home parent, the dynamic between couples when one is out at work while the other has to take a back seat, I think this film has really struck a chord with many people in similar situations.

Life as a working parent is difficult - and especially for women, who often face the dichotomy between being the home-maker and nurturer, while trying to be successful in the workplace.
It was very refreshing too to see Mr. Incredible struggle, but also generally succeed in giving up his career to support his wife.  Pixar really didn't adhere to the stereotype of the 'useless Dad' which was lovely to see. Instead, we see Robert Parr struggle and then work out what to do - finding his own feet and his own way of doing things for the kids.

  It opened the door to speaking to the boys in the car on the way home about all the issues raised, which made for some interesting discussions.  It was kind of amazing to me, that despite feeling guilty and worried about having ruined the boys' summer, it seems they are very understanding of why mum has to work so hard.  Tom even surprised me by telling me that he was always amazed by how much I managed to do and how hard it is for me at home and at work.

I guess it was nice to realise that even though a lot of the time I do feel invisible, I'm not.  The boys still see me and they do see what I do - even if sometimes it feels as though they are completely oblivious.

It was also nice to have that time to realise that I need to work less and do more with my funny gorgeous, intelligent, and observant boys.

I am not Mrs. Incredible and yes, I do feel like Elastigirl - constantly over-stretching myself.

The small film at the start of the movie was even more poignant and actually had me in tears.

Bao

Bao is a mini Pixar film and focuses on mother-son relationships.  Sitting with my two boys watching a story about a mother who has grown older, raised her son and 'lost' him to teenage life, followed by the love of his life was emotional and difficult.  I'll not go into what actually happened so I don't spoil it for anyone, but if you are a mama raising sons, get out the tissues.

Another conversation-starter with my boys about how life is for women, and especially those with sons.  Their reactions?

Were beautiful.

They get it.

They understand.  Which makes me feel like I am doing something right.

This was an important and much-needed check-in.  And I will be doing it more often.  Too much work, not enough boy-time.

Fuel for Thought

Along with our lovely wee cottage, we have adopted a real fireplace.

We stupidly didn't use it last year - due to our 'townie' fear of burning the house down and the fact that the previous owner has been burning coal rather than wood, our epic room changing (is it a dining room?  a living room?  a general purpose room?) and first year with new baby in the house, we just didn't bother.

Owen in front of our derelict fireplace last year!

Which was daft.

As soon as we cracked on with it one blustery cold evening, we began to understand how much we lost by NOT burning it last year.


It's so, so, SO lovely to have a real fire crackling away in the background.  I suppose that it is extra work, what with the cleaning of the grate etc, but on a cold night out in the sticks, it's just what you need.

We had been burning the wood from the woodshed , which wasn't the best, but anyone who has a fireplace knows that the less money spent on burning fuel, the better - after all, burning money?  Not a nice feeling.

Burning wood is nice - there's the crackle and the roar - there's also the spitting and the flaring.  You have to watch out for that!

Once it's been going for a few hours it is lovely - but it can be tricky to get going.

I was made up when the people at Lekto Wood Fuels sent me a sample of what they have to offer.

bark briquettes

Over the last couple of weeks I've been alternating my usual wood with the Birch sawdust briquettes and the Bark briquettes.

Both burn a lot longer and a lot easier than traditional wooden logs.

They smell nice too - when I took them out of the pack to store in my indoor wood pile, they smelt very fresh and lovely.  They were easy to stack too, with none of the usual splinters!

So why burn briquettes?

Here is some info I found on the lektofuels website:

• Humidity – Briquettes are always dry. Their moisture level is only as high as 8%, while well-dried firewood comes in at 20%. This is an important factor, because the higher levels of moisture that any heating fuel contains means you feel less heat coming off the fuel. High-moisture wood fuel also burns slower and fills your flue with creosote and soot. Low-moisture briquettes are always ready to use.
• Environmentally Friendly – Wood briquettes are eco-friendly. They are made from by-products (pure sawdust or bark) of the sawmill industry. No chemical additives or binding materials are used in their production. Briquettes are a carbon-neutral fuel. While burning with briquettes, the amount of CO2 emitted is no greater than the amount the tree absorbs during its growth cycle.
• Reliable Product – By purchasing briquettes, you will always receive what you ordered, because the weight and quality for each package of briquettes is constant and does not vary from one package to the next. Each piece of these briquettes comes to you in the same size, weight, and shape. Each briquette has the same burning characteristics, and our customers become quite proficient at burning them.
• Packaging – Briquettes are packed in simple, clean, transparent plastic bags. They are easy to stack and store. Briquettes require significantly less storage space than other wood fuels.
• Ash – Briquettes produce very little ash. Their actual ash content equals around 1% from sawdust, and about 4.5% from bark. Since our briquettes are produced without adding any binding materials, the resulting ash from this product can be used as a fertilizer in your gardens.
• Value for the Money – Briquettes are economical to use, they last longer than any firewood, they burn steadily, and they produce even, intense heat.

They were very clean to burn - the ash swept up easily and I even found I could simply add it to the soil in my garden.

There was little to no sparking AT ALL, so were great for a novice like me - they sat in the grate without any sparks or flares, making them ideal for burning when the kids were going about - I didn't have to worry about any embers jumping out (although OF COURSE I always take every precaution and have a HUGE fire-guard)

The best thing they sent me to try, along with the briquettes, were the natural firelighters.

natural firelighters

Made from sawdust and straw, and in a pellet form, they took quickly and burned for around 15 mins each, helping my fire to really get going.

Check out Lekto Wood Fuels for more info on what they provide.

Meanwhile, I wish I could provide a photo of my lovel lit fire, but I'm almost 100% sure now that Owen has managed to send my phone to landfill as I cannot find it anywhere!  I hope to rectify this situation soon, but it is driving me absolutely crazy.  It has been a month now and no sign of it whatsoever.

Ahrgh!  Kids!

New Shoes

My littlest Blethering Boy got his first pair of shoes this week and he is super chuffed about them!

He loves his shoes.

I almost forgot how important these little milestones are for wee ones. And for us!

As a third child, I try really hard to not forget about all the wee things that make up Owen's babyhood.

It's not easy though, when we have so many other things going on.

Where most first-time parents are making everything about their littlest person, I am often caught unawares by the next stage.

It feels like my littlest guy, the one I wanted to hold onto the longest, is shooting up faster than I imagined.

With Thomas, it felt like I had an eternity of him; almost too much time.  I used to feel the strain of every minute detail and worried over the slightest thing. I did two baby books.  I wrote all the 'firsts' on a calendar. I made hand prints and foot prints and baby albums.

When Ethan came along, I felt the angst of dealing with two small children, picking at the small bits and trying my best to get through the day.

The two of them together were very hard work and I got little respite from that.

I always felt anxious for them to be more independent, to go to nursery, to spend time with others.  I needed the break, I needed to go to work, I needed them to play by themselves for a bit.  I needed to make sure they had good experiences and that I kept my promises and that we spent good time together as a famly; and we did.

And now, this third, sweet, delicious child.

The one we knew would be the last.

He fits in, slots in like we've had him forever.

We forgot the baby book.

We tried with the milestone cards (we really did).

But we are taking it all in.  Inhaling every moment deeply.

Every day I examine his face for changes.

I despair when he moves up yet another size in clothes.

His first shoes were a size 4!

We didn't spend £25 on his first pair, because we know a lot of things about baby shoes - how long they last, the liklihood of him losing one in the street, the grief and stress of spending wasted hours searching for the other shoe in parks and supermarkets; not worth it.

But he has shoes.

He is happy.

I wish he would stop growing!

One

Here he is, my golden-haired boy,

So much goodness for us to enjoy,

His little smile, his waving hands,

His wobbly stagger

His pull-up-to-stand

The way he babbles,

The cuddles and cosies,

The clap-a-handies,

the grabbing nose - ies!

Two bottom teeth sticking out,

Bright blue eyes,

An angel pout,

My 'silly bean'

My bundle of fun,

We've so much to do,

Now you are one.

My Last Firsts (sob!) #petitfilousfirsts

Owen is my third and final baby, so those 'firsts' are a lot more poignant.

I've been careful to try and pay attention to all of them and savour them all...one last time!

First crawl!

First time in the new highchair

First time pulling himself up to stand!

First 'big' climb!

First chocolate cake!

First snow day!

First proper bounce!

First time using the spoon (help!)

First swing

First meal in a restaurant!

First whole banana from the skin

First Santa visit

First Xmas

First teeth

First trip to the zoo

First long lie!

First cosies with brother number one!

Owen might not be a proper baby any more, but he still has a lot of 'firsts' to come, and I am so excited to share them with him.

I think one of my favourite 'firsts' has been weaning.

He's my third child, so I'm a bit more relaxed about what I feed him, but of course keeping an eye on things like sugar and salt, as well as other additives.

One of our favourite go-to snacks is yoghurt and we tried My First Petit Filous recently, a new yoghurt designed for babies and children, which is free from additives and low on sugars.

Owen really enjoyed it and was very happy to have more than one pot in a sitting!

Here's what Petit Filous have to say about their new product:

My First Petits Filous is a low sugar, vanilla-flavour weaning fromage frais, designed to introduce children to fromage frais from 6 months. The main ingredient is milk and all ingredients are 100% naturally sourced, so parents can rest assured there are no artificial colours, flavours, sweeteners or added preservatives. Not only is My First Petits Filous delicious, it has calcium and protein to help children develop strong bones from an early age and the low sugar content reassures parents that their child will maintain a balanced diet during weaning.

Owen loved the taste, and not to be outdone, Ethan was happily snarfling some too - boy loves a milk-based product!

And it's one thing I don't mind my sweet-toothed blethering boys having either!

Even if most of it does end up in his hair!

This post is an entry for BritMums #PetitsFilousFirsts Linky Challenge, sponsored by Petits Filous

Halfords Camping Guide: Inspiration and Tenting Fun

The sun is shining (for once) and admittedly, on days like these, we basically live in our garden.

Everything is done outside - the kids love it and go to bed at the end of the day filthy, but happy.

(They do shower.  Sometimes.  Under duress.)

As the school term draws to an end, our thoughts turn to summer holidays and time spent together, making new memories and having new experiences. We love trying new things.  My boys are full of adventure and I'm a bit of a ring-leader when it comes to wrangling up the gang and making them do new things.  After all, life's too short to sit on the shore!

Some of our fondest memories have been spent at seaside resorts, like Blackpool, but we have also spent a lot of time exploring the great outdoors and finding out what our country has to offer.

There's tons to do - beit theme parks, city breaks or a country escape, we really are spoilt for choice!

We live in Scotland, so it's not difficult to find some real beauty on your doorstep, or step into the wilderness and get away from it all.

Even camping in your own back garden can be exciting for the kids!

Being centrally located on a small island means we are also never too far from the sea, the hills, the countryside or the city.

A holiday or a getaway needn't be expensive either; Camping out under the stars in your very own tented hideaway can make for the perfect cost-effective and bespoke solution to enjoying the great outdoors - all you have to hope for is good weather!

Check out Halford's new Camping Guide for a huge host of ideas on where to go, what to take and how to keep the kids safe.
They also provide a brilliant tent guide to help you to choose the perfect tent to help make your experience as comfortable and accommodating as possible.
Available in PDF downloadable or paper format, the Ultimate Camping Guide UK 16 is the perfect companion for all of your summer camping needs.  It even has a great guide to Glamping, for those of us who like a bit more glam in our camping!

The boys have tried out camping a couple of times, most memorably last year in our new garden.  Granted, it wasn't far away, but when you are 4 and 6 years old, it's pretty cool; especially when there's a thunderstorm!

Luckily, I got to stay inside with my two month-old baby while the boys weathered the storm (ha ha ha!  Cheating - but I don't care!)

Dave was determined, after all the time and effort he had put into setting up the comfortable 4-man tent that they were going to spend the night in it (as were the boys!)

Dave also took the opportunity to have a few beers with our neighbour.

Needless to say, he awoke, hungover, beside Ethan, who turned to him at about 6am and said, "Dad!  Why do people do this?"

Needless to say, all is forgotten and they are keen to try again this year (tonight actually - as I write, they are filling the tent with all of the duvets and blankets from the house. There's no hiding for me tonight - nooo!)

I'm going to get wrapped up and have some fun (hopefully) while reading my camping guide to get some inspiration on where to go next!

Happy Camping!

I Miss The Bump

Miserable hospital me, allowed out to the hospital canteen...

This time last year I was in hospital, experiencing some proper pain and some gnarly contractions.

The baby was breech.

The baby was sideways.

The baby was the right way round.

The baby was high up.

The baby was so low down the doc touched him when she examined me (ouch).

The baby was coming.

The baby was not coming.

The baby was fidgeting and causing some crazy pain.

The baby sat on his ass sideways (SIDEWAYS!!!) and probably made laughter waves on the damned monitor.

I was in hospital, on the edge for a week.

One doc told me I would have to stay there for three weeks, arranged me a side room and basically told me to hang tight.  Others promised an early c-section.  Another told me I could labour naturally; others laughed in my face.

I saw the full spectrum.

I had some lovely midwives who held my hand as I basically killed theirs when the pain got intense and I had some really awesome drugs which helped everything slow down enough for me to ride out the last few weeks.

I have never really had an 'easy' pregnancy.

I am a short little lady and I get really huge when I am pregnant.  My little body literally cannot hold any kind of capacity, thus it all tends to go out the way.

Weeks 5-13 are generally torture, as I experience waves of nausea, vomiting, and really not wanting to eat while experiencing intense hunger pangs, more often than not in the middle of the night.  I wake frequently and sweat profusely while looking quite podgy instead of 'nicely pregnant'.  I am usually exhausted and need to sleep tons, but find myself waking at 6am. It's joyful.

Weeks 14-28 are the 'grace' period.  This is my favourite pregnant time.  My skin looks great, I sleep normally (apart from the midnight snacks, which I'm happy to indulge) and I have some energy.  I'm also nicely rounded, but not so big as to have people ask horrific questions or touch me. I can still bend down to reach stuff and can wear nice maternity clothes.  Life is good.

Weeks 29+ are usually a nightmare. By week 32 I have reached peak pregnant and I am pretty much ready to be the heavily pregnant lady who takes every seat offered.  People have started saying lovely things about the size of the bump (read: rude things), but mainly because I am the size of a HOUSE and have so long still to go.  I can't reach my shoes or anything on the floor. I'm exhausted. Clothes have started to not fit. The bump has reached comedy proportions.

Week 32+ I am done.  Completely finished.  My body starts to give up pretending that it's okay with being squished from the inside out. It wants to breathe.  It would like it's organs back int he right place, please.  It begins making noises that it would like the imposter in here out now please, okay!!?  I, on the other hand, try to ignore it's awesome attempts at Braxton Hicks and crazy middle of the night peeing sessions and constant demands to be fed (in vain).  Pregnancy at this point is a full time job.  Which I believe is why they let you come off on maternity leave around this time.

It goes without saying that the last few weeks of pregnancy are hellish.  There's all the waiting.  There's the pain.  The constant trips to the bathroom to monitor any signs of 'progress'.  The constant feeding of the huge baby.  I mean, I can EAT when I am sprogged up!

We all know the awful things in pregnancy - even if it's just the small things.  We all know what can go wrong.  We all know how hard it can be, the risk it carries, the crazy things we do.  We all know it's rarely a smooth and thing without worry or stress or fear.

The day of the big C-Section! 39 weeks :)

But, today, in this moment of time, as I look at the picture of my 39 week bump - that massive solid, round thing, I can hardly believe it was possible once, let alone three times.

I'll never forget the magic of feeling the baby poke around with little hands and feet.

I'll never forget the feeling of never being alone and knowing that I was growing a wee soul inside of my body.

I'll never forget the amazing capacity that my body has to do this amazing thing, be chopped up and still be a working, functioning thing.

I very much doubt I will ever be pregnant again.  And besides, I hate being pregnant.  I like being pregnant for around 14 weeks or so, which isn't even half of the time!  I'm a terrible preggers.

But look what you get!

Not bad, eh?

Sleep Disorders And Night Terrors - Our Five Year Battle (And Counting)

Night terrors are kind of crazy.

For my middle son they happen most nights, about an hour after he goes to sleep.

He always screams.

He's always inconsolable.

He always wakes the baby.

There's nothing we can do for him; there's no comfort we can give him, no amount of trying to cuddle him, no amount of kind words or asking him to stop.

They come right out of nowhere.  Some nights he can be absolutely fine.

But most nights he wakes in this howling, screaming, terrified mess.

Hard to believe it, but they are tougher on us than they are on him.

He wakes in the morning with absolutely zero recollection of what has happened.  No awareness.  Just a nice, peaceful night, sometimes with a funny dream.

Thankfully.

We put the three boys to bed each night within a routine which has never really changed within the annals of time.

Bath, Supper, Teeth, Story, Story-tape, Bed.

It's pretty much the same every night.

It can be time-consuming.

Difficult to put into motion at the end of a long day.  It's important to me boys always go to bed happy.  Always with a hug and a kiss.

However, for poor Ethan, however much we tried, this wasn't always the case.

He may well have no memory of his night terror as they are now, but he used to have other fears at bed time too.

He's still scared of the dark.  He still fears the silence and the darkness around him when he wakes alone in the night.

His wee imagination goes into over-drive.

It all started when he was about a year old; the sudden middle-of-the-night screaming, the 'temper tantrums' which we just put down to sheer bloody-mindedness of our 'difficult' child.

He was never easy to put to bed.  He was a handful when he was awake!

But we all dreaded bedtime.

Our eldest son had always gone to bed nicely, easily, quietly.  But not Ethan.

He was terrified of going to sleep; absolutely adamant that he wasn't going to do it.

Every. Single. Night.

We'd spend hours indulging his night-time whims, reading him to sleep, changing bedrooms, changing lightbulbs, putting up blackout blinds and curtains on top of blinds.

We tried staying in the room and holding his hand, letting him sleep in our bed, letting him sleep in a sleeping bag, letting him go to bed with a million cuddly toys, as he was convinced that 'this time, mum, this time they'll look after me'.

Yup, this has been in the bed too! It's a bloody dressing up costume!

We tried to convince him he was being silly, it was 'just a phase', that he was big and didn't need us.

We listened at his door as he cried and screamed and pleaded with us to come back in the room until he fell asleep and we tried toughing it out.

We let him fill his belly before bed, we tried only letting him have something small, we tried different diets.
Reward charts.
Incentives.
Books which supposedly hypnotize.

It felt like we tried absolutely everything.

What we didn't know at the beginning, was that Ethan had terrible glue-ear, which was so profound that the doctor at the ENT clinic told us that basically, Ethan spent the first two years of his life hearing as though he was submerged under deep water all the time.

It took until he was two years old to diagnose, and then another year before he would get the grommets inserted, which changed his life overnight.  Suddenly he became verbal, a lot less frustrated and a lot easier to deal with.

The grommets were certainly an improvement beyond everything else, but we still had to deal with the fear and behaviour which comes from not being able to hear properly in those first three formative years.

It's had a huge impact.

He's a great kid.  He is very funny, with a rapier wit way beyond his years.  He is very clever.  But he has struggled.

Hearing properly very much contributes to other functions:

• Social interaction: He's never struggled to make a friend, but there's been a lot of misunderstandings and a lot of upsets!
• Communication: We've dealt with a LOT of tantrums, a lot of frustrated screaming and a lot of shouting.  Gradually we are teaching him to tone it down, but yes, this is a very hard thing to explain to others, especially as they think he is being horrible.
• Reading and Writing: He started school this year and he has tried so very hard, and is getting their, but his failure to hear words as they are supposed to sound for a long time has mucked up his internal alphabet system.  He has fought very hard for every single letter.
• Sensitivity: The grommets are great, but whereas before he didn't hear much, now he can hear everything, and to him it is very very loud! He therefore gets upset in places where there's more than your average noise levels, like parties, concerts and gym halls.

As he gets older he is becoming more and more able. His ability to communicate gets better and he is becoming less frustrated with life, which is great.

He now goes to bed with a lot less hassle.  Well, there's still some, but compared to what we used to deal with, it's nothing really.

We are however, still dealing with the night terrors. The last bastion of sleep disorder hell.

Apparently he'll grow out of them.

Apparently.

I really hope it's soon!

Saying Goodbye To The Baby Clothes

Clearing out my baby clothes was tough.

All those tiny little cute outfits, worn once, twice, three times.

Some have been on all three of my boys.

These are the clothes I carefully poppered over tiny little toes, carefully zipped up tiny little bodies, cuddled close after feeds and pegged up on the washing line, unaware or not of their last service towards our cause.

The ones which hold the most emotional resonance, pushed back into a duffell bag to be stored now - but for what purpose?

These are my memories.

I most likely won't be using them again now.

They're not waiting 'just in case'. Are they?

I had to tell myself as I went through them; 'there's no point in them sitting redundant'.

No point in them taking up space or gathering dust.

Someone else should be using these gorgeous little things again.

These gifts so thoughtfully given, the things carefully chosen by me, by friends, by all the visitors.

These are the things I squealed over, carefully opened, were so surprised by, they made new-mummy-me cry over the kindness, the generosity.

It's time to say a fond farewell to tiny baby years, tiny baby things, tiny baby bits and pieces and look forwards now.

My baby is a year old in less than a month.

He's thrown himself into life so fully.  He's grown so much.  Even moved up a centile as if to make fun of my constant chiding: "stop growing, baby!"

He giggles when  say this  Stands up all by himself in the middle of the room all by himself, grins, shows me his little teeth, points, waves, says words, all of the things I don't want him to be doing yet.

But he does.

He's not a tiny little baby any more.

It goes too fast.

Now it's my turn to surprise someone.  To show the kindness. To repay the generosity and to make another new mummy wonder at the kindness of strangers.

So I bundle up the bits. I tell myself it's the last time, but not too harshly. I make sure that I also allow myself to realise it could all happen again maybe one day.

Though I know it won't.

 They're just clothes.

Just clothes.

I can always get more clothes.

If I ever need to...

Calling All Funny Parenting Posts and Stories! (linky link ups wanted)

Parenting is a challenge at the best of times.

What you think is a nice morning of feeding the ducks can turn into something completely different.

You have to have a sense of humour - whether it's a three year old having a melt-down because his sandwich was cut the wrong way or a baby spewing all over your head, the key thing to remember is: It might not be funny now, but it will be funny someday.

I swear that's all that gets me through sometimes (especially when I've sat in a pee covered toilet seat or realising the school secretary of the massive school knows both mine and my child's name because we've been to the office so many times handing in his lunch/schoolbag/coat. Again.)


There are no massive rules here, but I simply ask that the post is funny and it involves parenting in some way.

It is not compulsory, but it would be courteous to:

1. Visit another person's link (or two if you can)
2. Leave a comment to say hello and what you found funny on their post

An InLinkz Link-up

CSections: What to Expect and What To Take With You #csectionawarenessmonth

I've had 3 different csections.

All three have been very different experiences.

Baby Boy!

I feel like a bit of a veteran - my csection scar certainly agrees!

I have had:

1 Emergency C section

1 kind of Emergency C Section (planned)

1 Planned Section

Two ended up with two very healthy babies, one ended up with a baby in SCBU.

Absolutely nothing at all went wrong in my Emergency C Section.

In my final and planned and prepared for C section, I hemorrhaged really badly and ended up with a blood transfusion, plus a horrible post-operative infection.

Being hooked up to an antibiotic drip for 2 days with a new baby to handle is tough stuff!

My third section was easier than my first.

I laboured for over 36 hours before I was finally given an emergency csection with my first son.

I was in hospital in false labour for a week and a half before my planned section for my third.

One thing that the whole giving birth experience has taught me, is to expect the unexpected.

Keep and open mind.

Prepare for every eventuality.

Medical care in the UK has it's faults, but honestly, honestly, it is exceptional. There is some real proper wisdom hidden in hidden places.  The care is amazing.

Here is a wee list of items for your hospital bag which I hope you'll find useful:

• HUGE knickers - honestly. Trust me.  As big as you can get without them being at risk of falling down. You will want NOTHING near your wound. Buy two of the cheapy supermarket packs in black which you can either chuck away at will or send home to wash and keep for the next few weeks. There's no love lost, and they'll do the job perfectly.  Much better than paper pants!
• Also, forget pyjama bottoms for a couple of days. Long flowing nightgowns with booby access are perfect. I found these ones from Mothercare to be perfect for the job. You will have a catheter in, possibly for a couple of days, which is super-glam, but hard to run down a trouser leg!
• When you do get to pyjama/trouser stage: leggings.  Lots of huge leggings, at least two sizes too big.  You want them to go up and over your wound and to be comfy enough to lounge in.  It's definitely okay to basically live in these for the next six months.
• Food.  Nibbly snacks. The thing about a Csection, is that you never know if you will have missed a meal time.  Plus you have to fast before it. Plus there's a lot of hanging around, sometimes you are in longer than you wanted or thought you'd be - keep your energy up with cashews, granola bars, chocolate, crisps, apples etc. and stick some fruit juice cartons in too for getting some post-op vitamins.
• Grabber.  I never had one, but honestly, the amount of times I needed something up off the floor or from the end of the bed!  One of those grab sticks would have been amazing!
• A notebook and pen. If you end up staying, it is so helpful to be able to write stuff down that you need someone else to bring for you next time they visit. It's amazing what you forget you need until you actually need it.
• Body wipes/baby wipes.  Not for your baby, but for you.  Maternity wards are Very hot, often stiflingly so. A quick wipe around with a baby wipe can almost help you to feel human again, especially just before visitors and their cameras arrive...
• Which brings me on to: basic make-up. I am not a huge make up person, not at all, least of all after I've just had my stomach muscles destroyed and had to deal with a new baby, but honestly, it's these tiny little details which give you a slice of normality amongst the blood, pain, medication and counting how many meconium nappies you've changed.  Everyone is different of course, but even if it's not make-up, make sure you pack little bits just for you - toiletries, moisturiser, hand cream (hospitals suck the moisture out of your skin!), just a wee bit of pampering for yourself.  It does help you to feel a little bit more able to face the world!

This is by no means an exhaustive list - not at all.  I also took my own breastfeeding pillow (a big firm one, which I totally credit with helping me to finally master breastfeeding third time round!) and some crochet for times when I felt like I needed something else to do (books used too much brain). 

What did you take to hospital?

Is it your first time?  What are you planning to take?

What are your must-take items?

5 Tunes Babies Seem To Love

And it turns out, whichever song they love, you end up loving too.  Even if you previously hated it!

Kylie Minogue: Can't Get You Out Of My Head

It has that hip-wiggle beat, it's catchy and babies love to join in with the chorus, which is a nice, easy 'la la la, la la la la la!'

Beyonce: All The Single Ladies

The song itself is great, but put a baby in front of the actual dance video and you'll see them working their own moves, just like Bey.

Michael Jackson: Billy Jean

We all love a beat.  But a base beat is the best beat by far.  Stick in some drums and some 'ooh ooh.  Oooh ooh!' and it's easy to see why baby is suddenly throwing some proper moves to this tune.

Any Old Folk Song

My husband seems to know tons of weird old folk songs which I never even knew existed.  Check out this old favourite, which he seems somehow to know ALL of the words to.  No joke!  I roll my eyes, but the kids LOVE it.  And to be honest, they'll remember these long after Bey has left the building.

The Kinks: Lola

Need I say more? LA LA LA LA LOOOOOOO LAAAAAAA!!

Just give me 15 minutes...

Dave has a half hour in the morning before he has to leave.  Technically, this is his time to do what he wishes with - maybe he will have some breakfast, read the newspaper, maybe he'll cruise the internet before he starts work.

I asked him what he does wih this hallowed half hour.

"Ah, I just start work early"

WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?!?!

That is half an hour of pure GOLD DUST, my friend!

When I told him this, he kind of just rolled his eyes and looked at me funny.

I looked back at him perplexed.

I am about to spend TEN HOURS holding a baby and doing everything one-handed, including going to the toilet and cutting cheese.

I'm generous.  I told him, I didn't even want the half hour.

Just give me 15 minutes...

In 15 minutes I will:

• Find something to wear which is not yesterdays clothes/leggings I've slept in for 3 days
• Shower
• DRY my hair instead of letting it dry in that horrible frizzy/wavy shape it otherwise dries into. Or at least the fringe.
• Pee. Alone
• Eat the only meal I'm getting until 9pm (if I can be bothered to make a meal by then)
• THINK. 
• Clean up a little in preparation for the onslaught of crazy baby mess.
• Check my emails - maybe I won't miss anything important this week if I can just get 5 minutes to CHECK MY DAMN EMAILS!!
• Take out the massive pile of rubbish which is taking over my kitchen
• Let the dog pee - it takes me ages to get to the actual point of being able to take the baby out, to get him dressed, pulled the pram out of the car/located the baby sling and found those tiny little baby socks!
• Find a pair of my own damned socks!
• Maybe even have a cup of tea... (I can dream, right?)

Never underestimate the power of a good 15 minutes of baby-free freedom!

The End of Breastfeeding: Need, Betrayal, Freedom

Last week, Owen, my third and almost certainly last ever baby, lay down with me and had his last ever breastfeed.

After-feed coma

I was so very conscious that this would be the last one - though it was with a glimmer of hope that it might not be, that he had somehow decided to carry on.

Very poorly baby :(

He's been quite poorly for the last three weeks; sniffly, sore throat and very wheezy.  It turns out, after a visit to the doctors eventually (poor, neglected third child!) that he had a touch of bronchiolitis, which he has since happily fended off.

He had been refusing the breast rapidly during those few weeks, turning his head, suckling for only a small amount of time, before withdrawing with painful screams and tensing up his body.

Frustratingly, for both of us, what used to comfort him beyond anything else couldn't comfort him this time, and I have noticed a change in him these last few weeks for sure; he's become a lot more indepepndent, a lot more into crawling on the floor, wanting to spend a lot less time in his Jumperoo and getting frustrated in his walker.  He's practicing pushing himself up and trying to stand, however alarming that is for me to watch!

Suddenly, my wee baby is no longer a wee baby, but a bigger baby who is becoming more of a personality.

Hmm, what's this ??

What are they talking about?

I'd just texted my best friend, who also has a baby of around the same age who is also breastfeeding.  We had been talking about it the last time we'd met up; she'd recently started to wean her little girl and asked me if Owen had started to drop feeds.

I knew he had (he'd started weaning ages ago), but I didn't realise quite how much until I spoke about it.

"It's funny", she'd said, as she fed her baby, " you never know when it's going to be the last feed".

So I messaged her, a week on from this conversation, telling her, the only other person who I knew would understand how I felt at this moment and told her that I was almost certain that it was all over.

It felt really weird.

It still does.

When I bought my first box of formula after 8 and a half months of good, solid work, it felt so odd - like a betrayal, like a freedom and like a need.

He needed the fluid - he had been refusing from me and refusing water, something had to give.  I had to satisfy that need to feed my ill baby.  He was becoming dehydrated and I couldn't pump off enough milk.

It felt like a betrayal too though - that was a lot of very hard work.  It was a lot of pride, a lot of love and a lot of tears which had gone into our breastfeeding relationship.  I looked at the ingredients on the boxes a million times.  I went back and forth to that shelf like a madwoman.  It's so silly - my other two boys had formula from a much younger age and I never even blinked, but for some reason I found such a harmonious and rewarding breastfeeding relationship hard to let go of!

I really felt a lot of freedom.  I also bought my first underwired bra for the first time in over a year.  When you have boobs as big as mine - that's a relief! It's amazing how much an underwire can boost your cleavage and make you feel so awesome again! I also felt a kind of release.
I had been this tiny little person's sole source of comfort and nourishment for 8 long months.  His go-to for every upset.  I was on hand 24/7, night and day for food and drink.  Not all babies are as velcro-like as mine, but Owen truly felt like I was the only one who could 'save' him and he was struggling with letting go of me.  Now I can leave him with daddy, and already their bond has grown more.  Already he seeks him out as well as me, which is lovely and, admittedly, a bit of a relief.  I have to go back to work soon and he has to be able to find comfort in others.

The most shocking thing for me is, I keep trying him with the breast with an off-handed hope that he will go back, but he is not even a bit bothered.  He'll nuzzle for a bit, then pull away.  If a bottle is int he room, he'll seek it out and drink it like he's always done it.  I guess I'm glad he feels so confident, givent hat at one point he completely refused a bottle!

Just a few short months ago I was set to do this for as long as he needed it, and I suppose he has decided that was as long as he needed it.

He has most definitely self-weaned, there's no doubt about it.

Am I sad about it?

Yes.  Yes, yes, yes.  I can't begin to describe how sad I am that it's over so quickly. It was marvellous to think of my wee broken battered body as this strong provider of food for this growing living thing.  It was amazing to be the sole source of comfort, to know that I could cure any ill with my boobs!  It really was magic.  Pure magic.

I'm so proud and privileged to have experienced it.

I was so worried this would be the end of something though - and it is the end, no doubt, of a special time.  But it is a small time.  And it is a memorable time.  And it was a good time.
And something which being a mother of two other children has taught me is, that it is part of a much, much bigger picture and there are so many more memorable, good times to come.