Feeling fat, tired and grumpy…

The mind is a wonderful thing, it not only blocks the memory of the birth it also paints a rose tinted glow around the third trimester, oh the joys…you then get to round two and not only do you have the hell of being hugely pregnant, you also have a first born to deal with.  If like me this is the average gap of 2 1/2 years, not only do you have a first born, you have a toddler. Today summed up my experience in one day…

1. Sleep – I have been awake since 1.30 am; for the last 4 days I haven’t slept past 1.30 am – I’m tired and a bit grumpy…no lying in though for me, 5.30 am and said toddler launches himself into the bed, carves out a huge gap in the middle and I grip despairingly to the edge of the bed until 7.00 am

2. Acid reflux…not sure I need to say much more – yuck!

3. Forestation – I can’t get to my legs let alone my bikini line, in fact I haven’t seen my bikini line in months – what to do? Ask the hubby to do it? That would actually reveal just how hairy his wife is…or slap on a load of hair removal cream and hope for the best…

4. Washing up – I can no longer reach the he water…option a. Side on washing up and succumb to crick in the side or b. Balance bump on edge of sink while standing on tip toes?

5. Pain everywhere including feeling linke someone has punched my in the…you know what…

6. Dressing toddler – worst nightmare…managed to get onto the floor with clothes, just as toddler decides a game of ‘catch me’ is in order…can’t get back up, frustration builds, end up yelling at toddler…feel guilty, he only wanted to play and I want to play with him – gar!

 

7. Need to pee…every 5 minutes, makes shopping a nightmare, mapped out all public toilets between home and work, regular shopping destinations etc…

8. The husband – so attentive during pregnancy No 1, completely over it during pregnancy No 2…

9. Work – full time, no sleep, toddler, enormous- counting the days…

10. Catch 22 – over pregnancy, but result is another baby and sleepless nights, not to forget that bit in between

Having said all that I am the luckiest person alive; keep going fellow mummies

Sunday morning bliss…?

Sunday morning, 32 weeks pregnant and the pitter patter of little feet enter the bedroom, it’s 5.45 am – urgh!!  The monster climbs into bed demands the phone and to the sound of YouTube kids and being kicked in the back continuously, I try to get back to sleep – it didn’t work. I decamp to Monty’s bed and was getting a bit of snooze, when Hubby stomps in with the monster and turns on the light.

I give up, go downstairs and start the breakfast routine – baked beans today…I’m subjected to endless CBeebies and finally lose the plot after the 25th time of being climbed on to get up the back of the sofa and launch himself off, narrowly missing knocking himself out on several occasions. It’s back upstairs to offload monster to daddy for 5 minutes.  Lock myself in the bathroom with my phone to get a moments peace. Hubby’s yelling from the bedroom, monster wants to watch YouTube again ‘what are you doing in there with your phone? Monty wants to watch YouTube’, he’s not satisfied with responses of I need it, why cannot he not just go downstairs and get his own bloomin phone, so I have to open the door and inform him  that I am removing hair from my private regions and need to time my hair removal cream – oh the mystery is dead!!

It worked and finally, I have a window of peace, and a blissful 20 minute soak in the bath! To all the

 

Someone special…

Sometimes someone special enters your life, not in the romantic or sexual sense but someone who you just get on with and respect. 5 years ago I met a man, from the first meeting we had a connection, he was interviewing me for a job and I remember with fondness a wry smile that crossed my face, thinking I like this guy we could have fun.

He gave me the job, I think the feeling was mutual and we have worked together over the last few years. I look forward to him phoning me and we chat about nonsense on the phone, sometimes I think he just likes being in my company and I enjoy being in his. I sometimes feel anxious around him, I want him to like and respect me, but I probably don’t need to worry about that as even when I frustrate him, he always comes back to me.

I admire his calmness, his pragmatism, his style of questioning that guides you in different directions without ever making you feel you have got it wrong. He is inspirational – he’s been criticised for not having impact or not being assertive enough – they don’t know him. He makes a significant impact on people who work for him.

He’s seen me through nearly two pregnancies at work and has made me feel as though I can achieve anything even when my own mind is betraying me. He made me cry, I don’t think he knows this, we were on the phone to each other – he told me ‘never to put barriers in my way-never’, that other people might, but that I should never hold myself back. I was pregnant and I needed this.

Our current set up is changing and there isn’t much I can do about it. I don’t want to let him go, but I have no choice, things will no longer be the same.

Do I want him to ever read this, probably no, I’d feel very self-conscious…if he does maybe he just shouldn’t ever tell me that he has.

Thank you – never put barriers in your way x

Big bumps…

So today I just got a it sick of it all…tomorrow I am 32 weeks pregnant and I am huge. I woke up at 00.30 and fell back to sleep at 04.45…my alarm went off 30 minutes later…

I left the house having not seen my 2 year old because he was still sleeping and got my sorry arse to work.  I hobbled most of the way as the baby is sitting on a nerve that shoots a sharp pain down my left leg every time I put weight on it. For some reason both sides of my groin ache and it feels like the skin on my tummy is about to tear.

The lovely, but somewhat clueless people at work, take an avid interest in my tummy, I get stroked by the guy in IT – it’s still weird even though there is a baby in there, I get told I am never going to make it to my due date – don’t you think I might be concerned about that and in our team meeting, everyone goes on about how small and neat the bump is of my team member who is 4 weeks behind me – I just get ‘OMG’s’ and gasps of shock and ‘yes she really is huge’ from those in the room. So feeling great, OK lying, I’m feeling pretty miserable, I sit for hours on an uncomfortable office chair wanting to be anywhere than right here. I still have 6 weeks to go and I am thing how on earth am I going to get through this; tomorrow I’m in another office and will have to go through the same conversations all over again – I can’t wait.

Finally home time, only my train is delayed, I have to stand for at least 5 minutes until finally some kind soul gives up their seat and go pick up my boy. Whilst pregnancy is an amazing thing and I try to savour every last moment of it, because this really is my last, it’s also a blooming pain in the I didn’t even know I could get pain there…

To my fellow large bumpers, you’re doing great and look fantastic, let’s just take it one day at a time – here’s wishing you a good nights sleep

Me, Monty and Mindfulness: a beginning

Like many I’m a busy mum, I work a full time compressed hours week, I am 27 weeks pregnant and have a 2 year old boy, who is extremely active. One of my strengths is that I’m driven, I am constantly trying to do more and be better, but this constant striving takes its toll, I’m tired a lot and never seem to be satisfied or enjoying what I’m doing. I’m often lost in thoughts planning the future and scenario planning, whether it be what my next job is going to be, what my next home project is or what will happen when Monty goes to school, how will I managed pick ups etc…

People say over and over enjoy the time you have with your little one as it is over so quickly- I looked at Monty the other week and suddenly noticed how big he was, how capable, how much fun. I realised I often spend my time with him thinking about the next household chore or leaving an activity to do the washing up, looking forward to a nap time so I could get a work call done.  What I was not doing was actually being their with him, letting myself just be with him and enjoy our activities, to really devote my attention to him, to actually turn the work phone off.

My little boy is the most precious thing in the world and so I have started a journey of changing the way I am. It’s early days, but just letting myself sit with him and observe and play until he decides the game is over. I’ve also started an 8 week mindfulness course, I must admit previously I would have thought what a load of b*ll*cks, but I’ m only on week two and I am already seeing the value of staying in the present with my little man and pulling my mind back gently when the mind wanders…this week the teacher said, if something is important you will prioritise it over other things.  She was talking about our mindful practice and how we can procrastinate and do other things instead of getting on an practising, she said that is the best time to practise.  For me, it is playing with Monty, that is the most important thing, just being with him and enjoying it, is far more important than a pile of washing up or vacuuming the lounge.

Habit and behaviour change doesn’t happen over night and I still get distracted, but I tell you what, I already feel better about the time I spend with him, like I have truly engaged…to top it all off, yesterday he said to me ‘best mummy in the whole wide world’, what is more important to me than him feeling that…

Oops…

A few weeks back, my husband Stephen, Monty and myself headed to London for an old uni friend’s wedding. We set off after work on Friday to travel from Birmingham to London; for the most part the journey was largely uneventful.

That was until we tried to cross Hammersmith Bridge and a car cut us up to swap lanes. Brakes were slammed, horns hooted and Stephen shouts rather loudly ‘for f@cks sake’. No one was injured, no cars make contact and we continue our journey across the bridge.

Two minutes later, from the back seat a little sing song voice ‘f@cks sake, f@cks sake’…oh the shame, oh the horror!! I turn to Stephen ‘did you hear that’ – looking horrified he confirms what I suspected – what commences…a tirade from me on how we are going to be the parents with the kid at school who uses the f-word!!! He’ll have no friends as their parents won’t let their kids play with him!

Having calmed down, we are now in the process of re-education and trying to convince Monty that what he actually heard daddy shout was “four, five, six”…I’ll let you know how we get on with that one.

Where did my friends go?

I woke up recently and thought ‘what happened to all my friends?’ It’s not that I don’t have any friends, but my closest friends had been replaced by lovely mummies met at various baby groups. Life had changed, previously Saturday nights had been staying up until 5.00 am, crashing out on someone’s sofa, now getting to 9.00 pm was a late night.

I guess I just hadn’t noticed, the early stages of having a baby with its constant overwhelming all consumingness, just meant I hadn’t noticed I wasn’t seeing the people I used to spend most of weekends with.  Now that baby is 2 years old, goes to bed at a reasonable time and generally sleeps through to OK 5.30 am, life had started to normalise.  No longer feeling absolutely dead on my feet and aching to get into bed in order to be able to function at work the next day, I was starting to miss people.

The problem was/is, I no longer fancy staying up until 5.00 am and sleeping off a hangover the next day and to be honest I think that it is now my idea of hell – toddler + hangover= the greatest horror of your life – but that’s what they were still doing and whilst I merrily got up at 6.00 am and swanned around National Trust properties, those long lost friends were snoozing, ready to start again the next night.

We did try to stay in touch, but too many late nights and hangovers meant brunches and lunches were cancelled, plus what we had added into the mix was a little Tasmanian devil – how often have you been out and realised you’ve started about a dozen conversations and never got to the end? Only parents can see beyond this annoying Duracell bunny that just keeps butting in every blooming second.

So at the moment, life can get a bit lonely, particularly on a Saturday evening, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.

When is Monty going to nursery?

I consider myself to be extremely fortunate…despite living in the South West when I conceived Monty (I’m a brummy really), the stars aligned to enable me to not only transfer my job, my husband and my life back to Birmingham, without much of a hitch (we’ll ignore the two houses that fell through on the way) – why did we move? Well, my mum had just returned and the Christmas before Monty was born, I was about 4 months pregnant, she announced that she would be happy to look after him 4 days a week to enable me to go back to work.

Continue reading When is Monty going to nursery?