That does it

I am old.

I've just chipped a tooth and probably will have to start keeping the
rest in a jar by my bed. Maybe I'll find the steradent tiger attractive.

And, I just had a flashback to when upstairs on the bus was for smokers!

Sent from my iPhone

Mutton Stew anyone?

I think I'm having an identity crisis.

You see I still think of myself as one of the younger people at work; you know, not grown up yet.

But then I look in the mirror and I see a mother, a MOTHER!, who is in her shhhh thirties, with lines around her eyes and a Judy Finigan jaw line and I realise I am actually, probably (leaves soem very hopeful room for doubt), seen by all the young french interns etc, as actually of very old stock.

OMG, how did this happen?

Missing you already

I readily admit that there are some nights when I can't wait to put
little girl to bed.

When no matter how lovely our bedtime routine is, I am guilty of
rushing it.

You can nearly always guarantee that those are the nights you will
find me outside her door, wishing kisses through it as I pass.

Or, sneaking in to 'check on' her.

Or, like this evening, losing myself in PD's beautiful photographs.

She's nearly one, you'd think I'd be used to the fact that I have a
gorgeous little girl by now. Wouldn't you?

Sent from my iPhone

Struggling

My turn to be poorly sick. Very poorly sick.

So while I want to wax lyrical about this time last year, my bump, threat of c-section, imminent labour yaka-da yaka-da. I'm not really feeling up to it.

Yep, yet another week when I didn't manage to go to work.

The things a mummy does

Let's her daughter play with expensive sunnies.

The things a daddy has to do...

Yoga, yoga, yoga, yoga, yoga. Oh, did I mention yoga?

I have gone yoga chrazzzyyy.

I am cramming my life full of yoga and it doesn't take a shrink with a cosy couch to tell me or you why. First there was the Bikram, tomorrow I am meant* to be attending a workshop to learn how to teach yoga to children; and for the next four weeks, as well as Bikram, I am doing a twice weekly Astanga / Hatha type class.

I'm LOVING the yoga. I do the yoga, I read about the yoga and I really look forward to the yoga.

Hmm, hopefully there will be body benefits and while it may not fill the void I hope it will at least cover it over with a bit of happy sanity.

* I say meant to be because PD is looking after Isobel, but she is still sick, poorly sick, lying on the floor resting sick, vomiting sick. Part of me thinks he should do his share, but then is it fair on Isobel? Maybe she'll be better in the morning.

Earache

Isobel has an ear infection and yes she has started on the bright
yellow amoxycillan.

The doctor assured me that I did the right thing about the last lot,
but did I?

This lot is half the dose for half the the time so that must be
better, mustn't it?

Now I just need to get her to keep some fluid down and give the
washing machine a rest!

Sent from my iPhone

What's a mummy to do

Isobel is sick AGAIN.

Tonsillitis, followed by another virus and now she can't keep down her milk.

I know they get more bugs at nursery, just think about it, it's not just the children she plays with she is exposed to, it's their siblings and their friends and so on and so on....

But, come on, give me a break. Isobel has been nearly permanently poorly since I started work.

And now once again I have had to call in and say I'm not coming, it kind of makes me feel stupid. We need the money, I can't rely on PD forever.

But, the biggest worry is that maybe I am doing something wrong, maybe there is something I can do to stop this happening; have I sent her to nursery when I shouldn't have?

My aunt told me that as a parent my place would be 'in the wrong' but I didn't expect it to be ALWAYS.

Lotta bottle

At the moment Isobel as an insatiable thirst for milk.

Last night, she had smashed an eight ounce bedtime bottle by six so I went and made two more (ounces not bottles) to quench post-bath thirst.

She is waking between five and six am and downing most of her morning bottle then, heads straight back to sleep so not too much of an issue. Attempts to give up the mid-morning bottle are failing , no matter how big a bowl of crispies she has had and managed to eat not wear. (Yes, I am leaving Weetabix for Nursery breakfasts, let them chisel it off their highchairs.)

After all the pain and heartache, both Isobel's and mine, that we had to get her to take the bottle, now I'm trying to get her to drink milk out of a cup, can I? Can I billyo.

She'll drink it out of a paper Starbucks cup; she'll drink it if I take the lid off her flippy cup (yep, the same cup she happily drinks water from); but she'll wave goodbye to and instantly dismiss any cup with the lid on and frantically sign for milk instead.

Aahh!

And I think she is meant to be going onto cows milk soon, have I bought my last box of formula....

No, No, No, No, NO

A while ago I wondered how I was going to teach Isobel what 'No' means. It was hard because every time she gets up to mischief it makes me laugh, so even as I was saying 'No' I'd be smiling and she would try and make me smile more.

This problem has gone away, as if by magic; it is actually Isobel teaching me 'No'. She never really shook her head before, but when she does it now there is no doubting what it means. 'No I don't want my nose wiped'; 'No more homemade chicken, no matter how delicious it is.' Or 'No more crispies' at which point anything on the spoon normally flies across the room as she defends herself from the offending spoon. Once I take the bowl away she confirms the action by waving and saying goodbye to it.

So, we've got No covered - the shaking of the head must have come from nursery but I am now adopting it as she obviously knows what it means. How do I teach her 'gently' when she can be so enthusiastic?

'Gently' as you grab mummy by the hair to pull her in for a cuddle; 'gently' as you explore the fact that mummy's eyelids slide over her eyes; I love you too, but 'gently'.

Viewing catch-up

This is yet another one of the those posts that I meant to 'post' ages ago that didn't. That, in fact, I didn't get round to typing I just wrote it in my head; I wrote it in my head many times but for many reasons, including the fact that I hadn't edited the video, I didn't get round to typing.


Actually it was so long ago I can barely remember what the point was, and I think the first video may have been for a different point but is kind of related to the second, so now here I am writing a post that is so out of date I can hardly believe I am bothering.


(I have now abandoned first video and am so rubbish at editing that you will have to turn your head on one side for this one - I know I'm rubbish, I give up - any ideas how to turn video around?)


I think it went something like this...


Isobel isn't that interested in telly, something I think I'm relieved about, but as I seem to keep putting it on in the background, I am obviously Natalie Umbrulia - torn. But, she is interested in YouTube, especially on the iPhone. So here are a few of her favourite videos:


Well her favourite, when I first thought of this post, was U2 doing Heads, Shoulders, Knees and Toes, great if you want some muppet Bush action - you'll see what I mean.


Then we got into Badger, Badger, Badger, the trance version, although this may have been MY choice.


Next, was 'If you are happy and you know it' - a song we now sing ALOT (see previous post), but the girl with the plaits scares me.


Now we have a penchant for 'In the Jungle' sung by a hippo and a dog. If it is Monday when you are reading this it will definitely cheer you up so watch it.


But there is one thing that crosses the line between YouTube and Cbeebies and that is the Jingles, the 'la-las' as Isobel calls them, singing rats to you and me. Let's hope they never desert the Space Pirate ship or we will miss them.


The common theme is music, and here is my own little dancing queen:

How could I forget...

Isobel now has six teeth!

And the necklace still appears to be working...

Sent from my iPhone

Monday randoms

Today, for the first time I saw someone wearing the same yellow coat
as me. Like mini drivers who love the car, we smiled at each other.

Valentines day didn't pass by completely unnoticed, Isobel made me a
card at nursery, at least someone loves me. (PD took us out for an
expensive, very lovely lunch at Gauchos on Sunday but I think that was
despite valentines not because of.)

Isobel went on her very first bus yesterday and wore her very first
hair clip.

Oh, and I've left my shopping at work.

Sent from my iPhone

At the end of the day

There are some afternoons when I feel a little weary; there are some evenings when I am too tired to think of things to do; there are some evenings when I can barely wait for six o'clock because I know then it's bathtime and that's a presribed activity (no thinking involved).

On those days it can feel like groundhog day as we climb the stairs.

But then we do this...

(I do hope you had the sound off)

Morning!

Ahhh

I have just climbed into bed after a lovely evening with my girlies,
my nct girlies.

Work has somewhat scupperred our meeting up plans, what used to be a
weekly, if not daily occurrence, now doesn't even happen monthly; and
I miss them.

While Isobel grows up rapidly, I still think of the other babes as
babes because I simply don't see them. Well I see lovely little Elif
because she goes to the same nursery but you know what I mean, out of
sight equals frozen in time.

So tonight we drank champagne ( well if you don't drink often you may
as well make it the good stuff), we celebrated an engagement, a
pregnancy, a sleep consultant and the end of a VERY bad day; but most of all we celebrated being friends.

Not a moment too soon. Thank you girlies xxx

Sent from my iPhone

I think she's on the mend

And no I didn't give her medicine.

That's cheese and marmite panini she's eating.

Not another post!

I know I have posted a lot today, that's what happens when you are
sofa bound with a sleepy babe, armed only with your iPhone for adult
company.

But, I do have a conundrum. Am I the only person has developed a
distrust or is it a fear of antibiotics?

I have bought into the idea that they are over used leading to
increased possibility of death by superbug. I avoid them at all costs.

When Isobel had an eye infection I was relieved to find out that salt
water was just as effective, well it only took a couple of hours more
to clear up the infection. Sign me up for salt water, no superbugs in
my daughter's eyes.

Now Isobel is poorly, it became obvious with the loss of her voice and
pain on coughing that she had tonsilitus, so weeks before her first
birthday, with a bug laden heart, I took her to the doctors expecting
our first batch of said good/evil medicine.

The doctor duly gave me a prescription, but suggested I decide
tomorrow wether to give it or not. Calpol and nature are best left to
it if possible.

Now, knowing my aversion to antibiotics I am confused, afraid I may
take the wrong course.

Am I being superbug-antibiotic-phobic?

Sent from my iPhone

Ladylike

Isobel always sits with her ankles crossed, just like a little lady
should.

Sent from iPhone

You can tell she's poorly

Isobel is sitting still and watching tele; she only ever does that
when she's poorly sick.

Poor little thing, smells of calpol.

Sent from my iPhone

Tough day?

I thought today was going to be difficult; watching my little girl not
know what to with herself, crying everytime she coughed, generally
suffering with tonsilitus.

But it seems she knows just what to do with herself: sleep on mummy.

Sent from my iPhone

Who's a clever boy then

It's not very often I credit PD with good ideas but yesterday he had
two.

Isobel loves buttons, as in pushing them, the alarm for example, or
the computer keyboard, or even the baby monitor.

So PD asked if I have a calculator, 'a big ass calculator' and hey
presto, I do. So this is Isobel's new toy. (no it hasn't replaced the
iPhone or the remote control.)

Second good idea: actually unplug the DVD player to stop little
fingers opening and closing the drawer!

See it must have been his brains I was after.

Sent from my iPhone

I know I'm not the first

I know many mums have done it before me and will, probably continue doing it after me, but being a working mum is tricky.

Going to work is actually the easy bit, it's quite tricky to entertain and WATCH a little person all day, I love it but it can be hard. Going to work is a breeze; I get to read my book on the train, I can drink my coffee hot and order whatever I want for lunch without worrying whether it is suitable for Isobel and her sharing.

Plus, I just have to do one thing at a time, more or less.

What really, REALLY, is tough is when little girl is sick, as she seems to have been since I started back at work. For the last four days she has had a fever and now her throat is so sore she sounds like a seal. Every time she cries, which she does quite a bit because she feels miserable, she cries extra because it hurts.

There is no way she is going to be better by tomorrow. Her temperature is ok now, but she hasn't eaten for days because her throat is sore, so I need to take her to the doctor.

But, I am meant to be at work.

My favourite thing

In the whole wide world is when my daughter wraps her arms around my
neck, places her cheek against mine and gives me love with an
accompanying 'aahhhh' sound. Sometimes she pats me on the back, but
she always ends with a kiss.

I try and ignore that she also does this to her favourite bed fellow,
Tuli.

Vocabulary

I use the term in the loosest sense, but Isobel is really begining to
communicate.

For months she has been holding her arms out to her cot when she's
tired; just like when she wants a cuddle.

She waves and says goodbye when SHE is ready to leave.

Signs for milk, well actually it now seems to be the sign for 'gimme';
give me milk, at a photo of me when I'm out; gimme the iPhone, remote
control; you get the picture.

She shakes her head for no.

And hisses for snake.

Kind of says mama but not really, and dada is obviously just a noise.

Now I know this is all leading up to talking and I'm a little afraid.

Don't get me wrong, both PD and I are dying for a chat but you see
that's where the problem comes in.

I was a chatterbox, I still am a chatterbox, my mind still is a
chatterbox; so how will isobel's voice be heard over all this chatter.

Actually I have a feeling it will be the loudest and most persistent.

The more I think about it, not being able to hear myself think might
actually be a good thing!

Sent from my iPhone

You could tell the story like this

I stole PD's sperm. In the dead of night I wickedly seduced him with the sole aim of getting pregnant.

I got pregnant to exhort eternal adoration, love and affection from him.

When this failed (who'd have guessed it,) I, maliciously, went after his money.


And now it's time for Isobel to really pull her weight; she is nearly one after all.


So I have her doing the washing...



And unloading the dishwasher...

It's for you hoo!

Isobel has taken to using everything as a telephone. In the picture
above it's a remote control but it could be a spoon (often still laden
with ny nemisis - weetabix), or a duck, anything really.

Now I'm surprised she isn't texting because I didn't think I phoned
that many people these days.

On the plus side she always has a smiley chat and 'aho', so she
obviously isn't around for my moany, tearful calls!

A rant

Ok, so it's pretty outside and I wanted to write a pretty post about the snow, you know to go with the picture I posted.

But, I flicked to the BBC to check the weather - I know I've already said it's snowing, but I am English and therefore obviously need to be told again. Instead of the weather, or was it as well as, in my upset I can't remember, I read this article http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/education/7861762.stm, which basically said being a single AND a working mum, not only am I breading a malcontent but that I am ruining society. NICE.

But what I am I to do? I was bought up by a single mum who didn't choose to be single, and yes I do I have a few issues, but I am not a bad person. Mummy did a good job, but I was adamant I didn't want to be a single mum.

Then I got pregnant - should I have had an abortion because didn't have a ring on my finger? When PD decided to leave when Isobel was 12 weeks old, should I have put her up for adoption? Yes, it is hard accepting financial support from someone who rejected me, so I would like to be financially independent, let's face it I have been for the last 17 years, but I have accepted the support and even though I am back at work, I am earning less so I can be flexible for my child so still need money help.

Is this me having it all?

Let it snow ...

The more it snows, tiddly pom,

the colder my toes, tiddly pom

are growing.

In 4 weeks time my little baby is a whole year old.

Bl**dy hell!