Nonsense on a rainy day

I haven’t done this in a while, and to be honest I haven’t even been able to look at anything I wrote because it’s all a bit embarrassing..  A bit like hearing yourself sing after you’ve secretly recorded it to hear what others hear. I’m a terrible singer. 

I also got into an argument a while back and in the heat of a texting war and spelt a few things wrong.. Which I was ridiculed for and I did feel a little bit stupid.. Then I thought all my blog posts were probably grammatically incorrect and that I should just delete them (yes I’m aware I analyse too much).

I decided not to delete them all because then I thought perhaps one day when I’ve had 6 children, and a dog or two I can look back and laugh at my inability to deal with a minor bought of haemorrhoids, or sigh at my lack of knowledge on all things motherly.. 

But here I am writing another post, not sure why.. But it is raining and I have baked 9 lemon cupcakes and eaten 5 so as a distraction to my apparent binge eating disorder I’ve ended up here.

Cassie’s turning one on the 18^th, I can’t believe she’s going to be one!! She has real walking shoes and eats with her fingers now! She still can’t sleep through the night but when people ask I lie and pretend she does, in the fear of someone dishing out more advice to me about how to better my parenting skills.. I’ve tried everything! 

I have a military routine set out through the day, she has a strict home made no salt or additive or anything nice diet, and so I’m not giving her anything that would keep her awake.. But still she refuses, so therefore I have decided it must be just because she’s really clever.

See because she’s so clever her brains is in overdrive so she can never fully relax to sleep, a bit like when you have an exam the next day! Too much knowledge crammed to switch off.. (I realise this is not the case but my theory keeps me going).

But apart from that things are tickidy boo.. Still breastfeeding, I know shock shock horror I breastfeed my walking talking real shoe wearing person, but I remain a firm believer that these little people wean themselves off! 

My Husband is in fear that I’ll be one of those mums that breastfeeds their school going child, and as much as I laugh I can’t pretend it hasn’t crossed my mind… I just can’t imagine breastfeeding not being part of my day now! Although I have faith she will one day opt for an apple juice instead. 

Doing nights has possibly already aged me quite considerably, it’s like the worst pain being so tired that your dizzy but still having to have eyes in the back of your head because your beloved is obsessed with anything electrical.. and likes nothing more than to have a good old dribble into the remote. 

My body clock is all out of sorts, I don’t know what to eat or when, so I end up eating a Cornish pasty at about 3am then a packet of Jaffa cakes on the way home at 8.. by lunch I’m just not sure where I’m at.. I’m cleaning my teeth at the oddest times of the day, basically I’m just one big muddled up monster! It’s a bit like being pregnant actually.. Like you have insomnia but you’re also shattered and your brain makes no sense and it’s sort of enjoyable, but it’s not.

Talking about being pregnant is this the time when your body starts screaming HAVE ANOTHER ONE? Or am I just so sleep deprived I’m missing  the days of Cassie only waking up to eat and poo, that I’ve forgotten all the other bits like the labour and the hourly night feeds.. I don’t know what’s going on but I’m becoming all broody! I miss my bump and I want that rush of the unknown again! All these womanly motherly hormones rushing round, it’s a dangerous business. 

Anyhow that’s that, my daughter just threw one of my relaxing candles behind the sofa which is fantastic. 

Now I’m going to make sure this is all grammatically correct because now I’ve made people aware my dumbness so the mistakes will be even more visible.. But in my defense I’m one of those people that are better with their hands. (don’t make that into a dirty thing- I meant like dressing leg ulcers and stuff.. and pottery). xxx

Festivities and Father Christmas

I haven’t posted anything in a while, not too sure why… It’s not that I haven’t had anything to say, because lots of thrilling things have been happening… but for some reason I just haven’t really felt in the mood. 

I decided I don’t want to be one of these bloggers that write stuff every other day just to write a blog, because then it would start to feel like work to me! And whilst I’m still enjoying my maternity leave I’d rather not commit to anything that involves too much thinking.

So I’m just going to touch upon a few little things, and to have a little natter about the whole festive season, because I absolutely blinking love Christmas more than anything ever ever ever.

Right so firstly… my little nearly 6 month old flower pot is sitting up unattended! Of course she still takes the odd tumble when doing so, and quite often plummets backwards when having an excited moment… but overall she’s doing it! Which is marvelous and I’m obviously super proud and telling most people I see. 

 

Thing is when it comes to showing off this new talent she chooses not to, but instead insists on standing by remaining stiff as a board when I try and sit her. I am sure she’s doing this to make me look silly… so I have taken numerous photos of her sitting so that I can prove to people that I’m telling the truth! So here she is sitting (and this wasn’t taken by sitting her, running with the camera and then quickly dashing back to catch her! This is real on her own sitting)

Now I know I wrote a blog a while ago about my worries regarding my return to work… those worries never went away. Despite many a kind word reassuring me everything was going to be ok and that I’d get used to it and so would she, I was driving myself mad with the dread of it…

So much so… I resigned from my current position of 37.5 hours a week and went and got myself a new job. I’ll be working 22.5 hours, covering 3 days starting in January and I can’t tell you how delighted this makes me! To have 4 days off a week to spend dilly dallying around with my daughter… it’s going to mean it will be easier to carry on breastfeeding, to enjoy days out and to carry on spending time just general larking around. 

So being so overjoyed at the whole new job malarkey we decided to take a trip to see Father Christmas in London to celebrate. My daughter, my husband and I packed up our daughter along with some readily prepared bottles, emergency bibs and a baby sling, and toddled off to London. 

Our plan was to go to Harrods... on a Saturday… two weeks before Christmas! Clever parents… obviously being first timers we didn’t think this through and ended up in a traffic jam of people in Piccadilly tube station with a little lady who really just looked totally perplexed at the whole ordeal.

We ended up giving up and headed home, attempting to take a few photos in front of some Christmas lights on the way so that it looked as if we’d had a Christmassy day out… 

Luckily with my mother being a super duper child-minding genius woman, she had booked for my daughter to see Father Christmas as the local playgroup. Now this Father Christmas didn’t sit on a gold chair and his beard was maybe slightly obviously fake but really I’ve decided that doesn’t matter! The kids were so star struck to see him the magic took over and quite frankly it was just glorious. Sure it was all a little manic and my daughter didn’t have the foggiest clue where she was let alone who this big loud man was… but if I’m honest I think I got as much pleasure out of taking her there as the other kids got receiving their gifts from the big man himself.

My conclusion being… becoming a mum does mean you have to grow up and do things like change you working hours, adjust your lifestyle and sacrifice a trip to Topshop in order to go and stand in the queue full of crazy children perfecting their best ‘I’ve been good all year’ face… but really being a mum means you get to be a kid again also! 

So therefore this year I plan to enjoy every Christmassy thing I possibly can… from mince pies for breakfast to tinsel in my hair! I will dance around my living room to Wham and possible wear a Santa hat whilst food shopping. Because now I have a baby I have a reason so why not… Hooray for all the tacky festive crap you can buy in Poundland! I plan to buy it all.

Merry Christmas from a sickly happy new mum with a superbly cute baby Santa person… Chin chin

13/11/11 #Silent Sunday

My Flowery Mother is Remarkable

My mum’s a hippy! She enjoys galloping through grass, running through streams, collecting leaves and sometimes lost animals, she prefers to go shoeless and opts for a summer festival rather than a holiday, the gardens full of clay mushrooms and adopted robins and her favourite snack is raw broccoli.

My Mother’s from Devon, she grew up by the seaside and only moved away when she decided to do her Art teacher training in the glorious town of Reading. There she met father who resembled Mick Jagger… They ended up falling in love, getting married and having me. Sadly I did not inherit my father’s big Mick Jagger lips but instead his over active imagination and his impulsive behaviour.

Anyhow… my Mother and Father both had a passion for creative things. Together they bought a derelict house, did it up and filled it with paintings, garden features, a bizarre mirrored shed and handmade toys for me. We had an allotment and multi-coloured gates… a treat for me was a walk along the river looking at the narrow boats, whilst my mother sang…. Yes she sang in public!

Now when I was very young I thought all this was fabulous! I had such a colourful life and it wasn’t until I reached school that I realised I was different. 

They didn’t use environmentally friendly toilet paper at school and I was introduced to the fish finger and shop bought scrunchies. I of course went to school in my home made replica uniform, labels sewn into my socks and a packed lunch full of fish filled pita bread and garden picked cherries. 

Every day I was picked up by my Mother/Father and our dogs, we would walk along the river back home and my Mother would sing. In the summer I was allowed to skip home and in the winter snow I was pulled on a homemade sledge by my mother who wore a multi-coloured ski suit… we had no desire for a car.

It really wasn’t until I realised other children were holidaying in Spain and Disney land etc, and I was holidaying at the world of music and dance festival, held in a field… 20 minutes away from my house that I became aware of their alternative ways… or when my school friends were being taken to Mac Donalds or going to the cinema whilst I was being taught how to juggle or walk on stilts in my garden.

I became actually quite sorrowful at school… childhood bullies would tease me about my lack of ‘cool stuff’ or about my dad having long hair. I was taught to remain quiet if any confrontation came my way, to walk away and think of something nice… but the kids at school just ridiculed me for being so quiet and I often got referred to as the girl with no tongue.

I had a few close friends, one who had hair she could sit on like me and her father wore a cowboy hat and had long hair, our fathers were friends so I would say I felt lucky to have her in my year. I had another friend who I loved to pieces, she was a tom boy and without her I would have been pretty lost. Then I had another friend… the only one I’m actually still friends with, she had a bob which I was desperately jealous of, her mum and dad seemed so normal to me and I was always so envious of her shiny new shoes and packed lunch full of ‘normal’ food.

So the years went past, lots of stuff happened… my father moved into the shed in our garden where he meditated and got lost in his own world of jimmy Hendrix, tapestry and joss sticks. 

He slowly became more and more distant to us and finally moved out when I was 13, he wanted to build his own life on the river with his dog and promised to buy me a boat to make up for my loss... sadly I never saw that boat.

My Mother carried on as any mother would, teaching me everything I know today… how to spot the red labels from at least 4 metres away in Waitrose, how to rise above those who put you down, that it’s easier to run on the grass without shoes on… and how to treat a bee sting effectively if you were to get stung whilst running without shoes on.

I realise now how silly I was to feel jealous of those who appeared to have a ‘normal’ life, that really MacDonalds isn’t actually that nice after all and that staying quiet and thinking of a happy place maybe completely mental to some but perhaps it saved me from becoming an angry person.

Now that I have made my own little girl I have to begin the journey all over again, which is exciting! And I can honestly say that my daughter will have to endure a bit of juggling in the garden, a lot of arts and crafts and maybe even some public singing! 

So I guess the sayings true… you do become your Mother… (Apart from the environmentally friendly toilet paper bit and I will always wear a bra!) Plus i'm sure the parents of any school bullies will get a good telling off from my Husband...

But overall I’d say I’ve definitely inherited the hippy gene… after all who needs to have ‘normal’ material things when ‘with our love we could save the world’ go George Harrison!

Thanks Mum.

My opinion on smacking

Now I know that this is a risky post, and that many people will disagree with me here...That many people who do, or have been smacked believe that it’s a necessary action to take in regards to discipline. But I just honestly can’t get my head around the idea of smacking my child… The thought of inflicting any kind of pain at all, towards my daughter makes me feel rather uneasy.

I have quite a strong view on smacking, I am aware of this; most probably this has been passed down to me from my mother… so of course I have been influenced in my beliefs, as will those who have been smacked and feel that it’s acceptable! So I’m in no way trying to push my opinions on others… but I can’t help but want to air my views on the matter… and maybe get some responses on why others do in fact condone smacking.

So as a child, not all but I believe most of us were taught, either at home or at school that violence is bad? We are taught to respect others no matter of their age, race or background. Most parents will agree that it's unacceptable for their child to hit another.

Therefore when it comes to punishment why would a parent contradict themselves? Surly this would just result in a very confused child?

To punish you’re child for hitting someone… by hitting them just seems completely ludicrous to me. Surly that’s giving a message to them that it's okay for you to hit, but not for them? So therefore doesn’t that cancel out all meanings of equality and having respect for everyone no matter their age?

Of course I understand that as a parent your child should respect you... And when you say no they should value that. But surly keeping calm as a person and punishing/teaching them in a non-violent manner can only result in ultimately them understanding their faults better… and perhaps them being less fearful of you, and most likely to come to you with their problems in the future?

My mother always said to me… you wouldn’t hit your friends, you wouldn’t hit your parents, and you wouldn’t hit your pet… so why would you want to hit your child? The one you created the one that should really mean more to you than anyone or anything you know!

I’ve also heard a lot of people say that they don’t hit their children as such… but they may give them a tap ‘to scare’ them if it was totally necessary. This to me of course sounds more reasonable… but I have to admit I still don’t quite get it. You are then giving your child the message that, no it’s not acceptable to smack, but it’s ok if it’s just a little one? Surly that’s still giving the underlying message that problems cannot be resolved by merely confronting them by talking or clearly saying no and explaining why?

  

Now before anyone jumps in and say’s… how would I know I only have one child and she’s only 5 months old, I have no idea on parenting, who am I to cast judgement…You’re completely right! I am fully aware that when my daughter becomes a toddler she will most likely test my patience... but surely if you ignore behaviour you don't like, it is less likely to be repeated?

I have just been brought up with these opinions so I can’t shake them! I was never hit and I believe I most certainly know right from wrong! A firm no was enough to stop me in my tracks and I truly believe I have benefited greatly by this! Because after all a teacher or a boss can't smack you can they... So I learnt from a young age that discipline and respect came from a combination of being taught, being listened to and understanding the messages behind all actions taken.

 

I’d be really interested in people’s feelings and experiences on the matter and why they think it’s acceptable to hit their child or children.

So please all opinions for or against welcome

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

So as advised to me by some very brilliant knowing other mummy bloggers, I have popped across to Britmums to be prompted on what to write...

Changes... what’s happened to me over the past year? Now I could go on for ages about this because quite frankly this has been the most exhilarating year of my life, really it has…

Therefore I will opt to cover a few of the bigger events that have taken place during the big 11, I did all the grown up things you’re supposed to do pretty close together really, not one to do things by half.

So in 2011 I got married, had a baby and moved house… I’d started my new job in December so I was the newbie of the ward, naturally this meant I was really supposed to impress everybody... Show my skills as such! So dropping the old bombshell “by the way I’m pregnant, also can I have time off to get married and please can I start my maternity leave early so I can look for a house” went down superbly as you can imagine…

My boss is no longer working there, I’m afraid I may have led her to leave with the copious amounts of paper work I produced in the short time me being there! Risk assessments, mat leave forms, annual leave authorisations blah blah... To round it up I was a bit of a hindrance I suppose!

Nevertheless I tried my best, I worked through my baby bladder kicks, my horrendous all day sickness in the attempt to convince at least one person, that I was worth employing...

Although I don’t feel completely guilty, because I was clearly punished by what I’d caused by being made to work all through Christmas... let me tell you, arriving home from work on Christmas eve at 10 only to go back to work for 7 on Christmas day, then again boxing day, right up to new year’s is no picnic. I adore my job but by golly that was pretty dismal. And I know I am to expect bad hours as a Nurse but nobody can deny I received the short straw on that occasion.

So I got married in January, a winter wedding! Which was ideal really, I had red roses and lots of red things, perfect January sale buyage!! We managed to leave most of the purchase buying until after Christmas so we could bag all the bargain red Christmas stuff for the big day! 

It was a delightful day, despite many a disagreement with the family... Arguments over the guest list and such sort. I was extremely emotional as if you’ve managed to work it out... Yup I was a pregnant bride! Sickness, stress, new job and wedding planning are a brutal mix! I pretty much lived off chocolate during the months running up to the wedding as I couldn’t drink so it was a desperate attempt of a substitute.. It worked, a little! But not really! What I needed was wine!! 

Well I got all married and became a wife and stuff, I’d sort of settled in to the new job… next thing on my list was to get a little house for a little family to live in…

The little house didn’t happen, all a bit heart-breaking really but I won’t go into that. We ended up staying in our little student flat that we rented whilst my husband and I were studying together, I won’t lie... this was hard! All I wanted was a little room for our baby, to be able to decorate and not have to live amongst the crazy amounts of baby stuff, and wedding gifts we had building up in our living room. Being pregnant and all crazy and sensitive meant I cried about this a whole heap. 

I believe at one point my husband probably didn’t want to return home from work, as he’d usually find me in a ball sobbing over something or other and being all negative! I ended up making a corner in our room dedicated to our baby; it resembled a crazily crowded fairy grotto, I was determined to get as much pink and sparkle into one corner as humanly possible. Poor kid.

So there we were in our little flat when I went into labor, early stages I must say… but nevertheless I was on my all fours, ready to push. Little did I know those contractions were the twinges and I in fact had a long old heavy-going ride ahead of me. That told me.

Out popped our daughter Cassie, at 13.59 on Saturday the 18^th of June. She looked very confused and almost elf like, she was tiny… weighing only 5Ibs 13, her skin was way too big for her but she was positively the most charming little person I’d ever seen… and I adored her instantly.

Off we went home with our new car seat all proud, seriously holding up traffic of course. I remember every speed bump being torment and all I wanted to do was hold her! I still believe that every new family should have two days locked away, just them so they can fully enjoy what they’ve created! But of course I know we all have families and excited Granma’s are not to be messed with.

Now everything was honky dorey, life was all lovely from then on really! We found a place to move into in September and we’re all settled now... Our daughter has her own room which she doesn’t go in but that’s not the point… and I’m now able to walk into Windsor with ease, which pleases me greatly as I make no secret of my hatred for Slough…

So yes, those are my changes this year… pretty impressive year I’d say!

The only thing I would change if I could to be honest would be the fact I had to wear a bloody maternity wedding dress bleurgh! All I ever wanted was an ivory fishtail, blasted water retention… but after an emotional year I’ve learnt to remain positive and think well a maternity wedding dress wasn’t so bad, as it of course meant I could dance freely, eat masses of cake and whip it up nice and easily for toileting! Every cloud has a silver lining.

My on & off relationship with Mr Fake Tan

So Mr Fake Tan and I have had our good times, our bad times and our horrifically embarrassing times! No matter how many times he fails me I can’t help but carry on trying him out, in the hope that one day he’ll pull through and give me a gloriously long lasting natural looking tan. 

This is a bit different; I’m not going to talk about being a mum in this post because this is about me. I know I have a new baby and I shouldn’t really have time for this but she sleeps! And it’s when she sleeps that I get the mitt out and begin my personal fake tan review time.

Of course I cook and clean as well but quite often the hovering has been done naked, legs firmly apart so not to rub… drying off my tangerine glow, praying that no random visiting people turn up for an un warned cuddle with my daughter. 

Right so I’m going to talk about a few products if you’re interested? If you’re not then at least you totally didn’t waste your time because you now know that I hoover naked and orange and if you can picture it that should make you chuckle... However apologies if I’ve made any of you feel at all sick at the thought. 

I’m going to review 8 products! I know that’s an awful lot and you’re probably thinking of for goodness sake don’t blogs usually only review one or two… but I promise to keep it brief and get right to the point.

St Moriz

So first off I’m going to talk about this famous mousse which is the tan that claims to be exactly the same as ‘St Tropez’ however unlike ‘St Tropez’ it’s only £2.99 from Savers! 

This tan is amazing! For £2.99 you can’t go wrong! I do however look like a muddy puddle whilst I’m waiting for it to develop, and it does come off all patchy… but it’s £2.99! And really and truly it is no different to ‘St Tropez’! It’s not orange it’s brown but it does smell like biscuits! But I’ll say it again… its £2.99!!!

Fake Bake

Next up is this instant matt tan; to be honest I don’t know why I bought it because I’m scared of wash off tan! If you get wet or your sweat or you cry… you’ll look like a wolly.

However it is great if it’s already 7pm and you suddenly have to go out and you look a bit dead and you need some colour! Like a tinted moisturiser kind of, I wouldn’t trust putting it all over because the back of the knees can sweat and that can only lead to disaster. Bit orangey too if I’m honest, wouldn’t rate it more than 4/10.

SunKissed

Ok next up is this tan mousse… I bought this because I thought the advert for it was cool.

It’s really runny! But in a good way! The colour is brown not orange, it only costs £3.99 and it it’s really just the same kind of thing as the ‘St Moriz’ but easier to apply! Only thing I found with this one was after 2 days I looked like a snake! Not sure whether that was down to my own exfoliating negligence, but even so I’m not willing to attempt for a second try as I’ll probably just look like a snake again.

GOSH

Next up is this self-tan, now I have this in the lotion and the mousse, but here’s a picture of the mousse.

When I saw this in Superdrug I was extremely excited! I love ‘GOSH’ and I love their ‘darling’ lip stick (even though it makes me look ill) it looks nice on everyone else! But any how this tan was yellow! I looked jaundice! If you have more of an olivey complexion then this could be lovely as it provides an even coverage but for the pale porkies like me it’s a no go.

Loreal

This is a self-tanning mist… it has a cool nozzle which I don’t believe makes any different but I think it’s cool anyway.

This is my saviour tan! I only use it on my face; it’s something I use when my other tans fading and I need a bit of a boost! I wouldn’t use it all over because if I did that then I’d end up using the whole bottle and I’d probably miss bits anyway because it’s not an instant colour. But definitely a gooden, I like it a lot, and it doesn’t smell.

Marks & Spencers

I used to get a fake tan from Marks & Spencers and it was magnificent! Although they seem to have stopped doing it! So when I went in to re stock I found this sitting there instead...

Its Tess Dayleys gradual self-tan. Now I’m guessing Tess Dayley herself doesn’t use this as its glittery and makes no difference to your colour whatsoever. If you want to go to a party as a fairy then this is great! But otherwise no… and it smells a bit like bread.

St Tropez

Now I have tried the whole ‘St Tropez’ collection… I used ‘St Tropez’ from the age of about 18 to 22! So a pretty long time! I actually swore by it… 

I’m not too sure why I swore by it? I think it’s because it’s so expensive! And when things are expensive it makes me believe it must be good... I’m a sellers dream. But really and truly it’s not all that! I think you pay for the name, but honestly I see no difference between the 'St tropez' mousse and the 'St Moriz' mousse, or this gradual tan and the supermarket 'Cocoa Butter' gradual tan! colour wise anyway.. I know which one smells better!

Vita Liberata

Finally... I thought I’d leave this till last because it’s sensationally amazing!!! I’ve got it in the extra rich silken chocolate gel…

I seriously can’t love this product anymore! It’s reasonably priced at around £17, its organic, it doesn’t smell, you can look normal whilst it develops… I could go on and on. I’d heard people talk about it, as it’s all natural ingredients and stuff so I thought I’d give it a go, I opted for the extra rich colour as it actually say’s on the box ‘if you have very pale, hard to tan skin then this is your product’ and like the geek that I am I thought yippee that’s me! But yes it’s sensational and I’m a convert! I shall be sticking to this one indeed.

So after a rather long up and down relationship with Mr Fake Tan he finally pulled through for me. Mr Vita Liberata is a stud and I found him in Boots… Hurrah to finding love at last.