Well, we made it. Our much wanted baby boy arrived in the world a couple of weeks ago, filling our hearts and completing our family. Obviously, I am completely biased, but I think he’s a beaut and am very happy with him – he can stay! S is enjoying being a big brother and we are all settling into life as a four, in between being woken and urinated on at regular intervals (by the baby, not my husband).
BabyHome / Baby
“I had a bad feeling about the facilities as we approached; who wouldn’t when hearing the sounds of other customers screams from 100 yards away? Was this the kind of place I wanted to get naked in? Err, no thanks. My fears were sadly confirmed when I was told the only bathroom option available was on the (filthy) floor, wedged between a sanitary bin and a terrifyingly loud monster (allegedly called a hand-dryer). My head hurt from the hard floor, and I could find comfort in neither the view nor the smell of my surroundings. All I wanted was to escape – which I attempted by rolling around whilst screaming hysterically – I couldn’t believe I was being subjected to such a horrible experience at a place we were spending money to eat in.”
I know my mum can’t be the only one doing the odd double-take and scoff at the wealth of baby paraphernalia available compared to when she was raising my sisters and me back in the 70s and 80s. Not to mention all the stuff we do with babies now – which our forefathers no-doubt think is bordering on the ridiculous – and it is, surely? I’m not criticising the choices we modern parents make, I bought into most of it myself but, Baby Rhythm – really? They can’t even flipping walk yet!
Things certainly seem over-complicated now, yet I’m not sure how I would even begin to parent without the double-edged sword of Doctor Google or a 3-in-1 travel system to whizz around in easily. And as for getting my grocery shopping done without the help of Click & Collect – forget about it.
A beautiful guest post from Natalie at Bobbin About:
You know those parties you go to in your youth?
Not the ones that start off with a few innocent drinks and end up with someone throwing up in the toilets, but the euphoric ones that go on effortlessly until sunset.
Come morning, your body is tired, you’ve made new friends, laughed until your sides ache, and now it’s time to go home, crawl under the covers, and sleep for a really long time.
As a break from bemoaning the lack of reasonable behaviour from my toddler – and because it’s Father’s Day this weekend – I thought a spot of sincerity was in order, as did my two-year-old. I admit he did need a little bit of help with the typing – his efforts not being bad as such bar a few errors.
SsikjisjjndvgjsSIDAFJnhlkl94 He knows what he’s writing though, apparently.
And I may have paraphrased his words ever so slightly for optimum effect; but otherwise, it’s all him. Sort of.
Parents, please know I do appreciate your frustration when I do not sleep, be it at nap time, bed time or middle-of-the-night time (your personal favourite I believe). I understand that me being awake means you being awake and that when you have fed me, changed me and soothed me, you expect me to drift into a peaceful slumber.
I can see that in theory, when the room temperature is just so, the blinds are drawn and the appropriate gaps between naps have been reached; I should happily nod off.
However, as we are both aware, this often isn’t how it goes down. And you, I am guessing, want to know why.
So – here’s a whole bunch of reasons – pick your favourite.
It is early rising and midnight waking, it is wiping noses… and bums. It is the park all year round; it is play dough, sand and crayons. It is travelling heavy and never ‘nipping out’; it is laughter – so much laughter.
It is a shift in your relationship, it is rare evenings out, it is talking in yawns and gestures. It is discussing nappy rash, weaning and sippy cups – with gusto. It is toys in the living room, a prayer for more sleep, it is different than expected and more than you hoped.
Posted by ToyStory4
Like many of you I’m sure, I have a good friend, who happens to be a teddy bear. I’ll call him Steve, for the purposes of identify protection. Steve and I joined the family at the same time, just over a year ago, so we’re pretty close. He doesn’t say a lot – well anything actually – but he is good company and I’ve always felt I can trust him. Lately though, I’ve noticed a few things amiss and it’s making me question his loyalty. Firstly, last week before bed I put him on the sofa, but when I woke up in the morning, he was in the toy box, helping himself to my cars. I’d been led to believe (by him I might add) that he couldn’t move on his own, so he’s lied to me for starters, and I’ve been carrying him around like a chump all this time, yet he’s never offered to return the favour.
I can no longer ignore the glaringly obvious truth that things have got a bit out of hand with the old ‘baby brain.’ Particularly now that the ‘baby’ is 22 months old – is it really meant to last this long?