Well, so it seems.
Isobel has not had a feed in the night for the last 3 nights, but somehow I don't feel well rested. This sleeping through is not the result of any grand plan of mine, but rather it has just happened. Oh, and when I say sleeping through the night, I mean from Isobel's bedtime until morning, none of this dream feed shenanigans.
It started on Wednesday night when Isobel woke up at 10:30; now I know my little girl and her rhythms, I knew if I fed her then then she would be up every three hours in the night, so I simply soothed her back to sleep. Okay, okay I admit it I rocked her - I was tired and wanting to go to bed. Well, she went off quite quickly, so wasn't starving and I thought I'd see her again in a couple of hours. Me, I woke up at 3am and was so convinced she would wake up soon I made up a bottle, but she didn't; that bottle was discarded and a new one made at 6 am when she did wake up!
The next night Isobel didn't even stir until 4am, spurred on by the 'Core Period' concept - yes those damn books again - I simply soothed her back to sleep again. She'd proved she could do it once and she did it again.
The third night Isobel soothed herself back to sleep at four am, while I listened for every breath, murmur and thumb suck.
Oh why, oh why can I not just SLEEP!
Saturday, 19 July 2008
Friday, 18 July 2008
When I grow up I want to be...
... hmm ... aah ... *scratches chin* ... *gazes at navel* ...
... actually you know what, I have no idea. The only thing I do know is I don't really want to do my old job. It has it's perks: somedays I find myself dreaming of wearing high heels and a suit again - a pencil skirt can do wonders for the soul; the money is great; office banter can be fun and, sometimes, just sometimes, hanging out in the city can be quite cool.
Oh, and I suppose there is the satisfaction of a job well done.
I get that here at home too. I'm not saying that I think Isobel can be my world forever, well, obviously in many ways she will be, but I do need something for me too. Not to mention I have a mortgage to pay.
Last year a fortune teller told me I would be paid for doing something I enjoy, but what can that be?
Who knows but I can't wait to find out.
... actually you know what, I have no idea. The only thing I do know is I don't really want to do my old job. It has it's perks: somedays I find myself dreaming of wearing high heels and a suit again - a pencil skirt can do wonders for the soul; the money is great; office banter can be fun and, sometimes, just sometimes, hanging out in the city can be quite cool.
Oh, and I suppose there is the satisfaction of a job well done.
I get that here at home too. I'm not saying that I think Isobel can be my world forever, well, obviously in many ways she will be, but I do need something for me too. Not to mention I have a mortgage to pay.
Last year a fortune teller told me I would be paid for doing something I enjoy, but what can that be?
Who knows but I can't wait to find out.
Thursday, 17 July 2008
Child Unfriendly
Okay Rebecca, this one's for you.
Generally I have found the world to be not only baby tolerant but actually full of lovely people who are keen to hold doors, hold-up supermarket queues etc just to smile and coo at my lovely little Isobel.
I have felt truly honoured by being able to park in parent and child spaces and although I have been tempted, I have never abused this privilege. Being respectful of others I have only once taken my baby to a restaurant that is not child friendly and even then I rang in advance and they gave us a lovely cosy corner table - I couldn't bear the thought of my child being the cause of anyone else's discomfort or being one of those parents who thinks having children gives them the right to ignore the world around them.
Anyway, where is all this going?
Well I mentioned that we went, last Tuesday evening, to a picnic concert as part of Kew Garden's Summer of Swing. I've been many times but this was my first time with a baby in tow. I was as much concerned for her enjoyment as well as my own, so we took along some child headphones (I think they are actually, more aptly, called 'ear defenders'), the purpose of which was to enable Isobel to blissfully sleep.
Isobel, following a picnic bedtime story and a little boogie, dutifully fell asleep during the support act. Lulled into a false sense of security I popped her into her pram sans headphones but I zipped up the raincover for insulation.
Unfortunately Jools Holland was greeted with great enthusiasm by the crowd and his plinky-plonky piano woke up the sleeping princess. So, (instead of being clever and popping the ear thingies on in the pram) I picked her up and applied the ear defence, and indulged ourselves with a bit of a bop.
Too much to see and do meant Isobel didn't go back to sleep, I wasn't worried, she wasn't unhappy we just stood and had a dance, like you do at outdoors concerts.
I'd obviously consumed too much picnic and my bottom had grown to the size of a small country because a middle-aged sour puss (quite a polite way of putting it me thinks) came up and told me how 'patient' the crowd had been with me but I was interrupting their view. Now, it's an outdoor concert, a music concert so people were dancing, it wasn't bloomin' Songs of Praise (mind you that's probably happy clappy enough to illicit a bit of bottom shaking these days).
At the time I was mortified, embarrassed to think I was upsetting people by an innocent act of enjoying both my child and the music. PD's blood instantly boiled, but restrained himself to mumbling profanities under his breath.
Turns out the woman was a liar; on our way out another lady came up to us and told us she had had to restrain her husband from having a pop at sour-puss on our behalf. Seems we were doing no harm at all.
Then on Tuesday I discovered not all pensioners smile at prams, but I really can't go there right now...
PS. I did warn you it was a tirade.
Generally I have found the world to be not only baby tolerant but actually full of lovely people who are keen to hold doors, hold-up supermarket queues etc just to smile and coo at my lovely little Isobel.
I have felt truly honoured by being able to park in parent and child spaces and although I have been tempted, I have never abused this privilege. Being respectful of others I have only once taken my baby to a restaurant that is not child friendly and even then I rang in advance and they gave us a lovely cosy corner table - I couldn't bear the thought of my child being the cause of anyone else's discomfort or being one of those parents who thinks having children gives them the right to ignore the world around them.
Anyway, where is all this going?
Well I mentioned that we went, last Tuesday evening, to a picnic concert as part of Kew Garden's Summer of Swing. I've been many times but this was my first time with a baby in tow. I was as much concerned for her enjoyment as well as my own, so we took along some child headphones (I think they are actually, more aptly, called 'ear defenders'), the purpose of which was to enable Isobel to blissfully sleep.
Isobel, following a picnic bedtime story and a little boogie, dutifully fell asleep during the support act. Lulled into a false sense of security I popped her into her pram sans headphones but I zipped up the raincover for insulation.
Unfortunately Jools Holland was greeted with great enthusiasm by the crowd and his plinky-plonky piano woke up the sleeping princess. So, (instead of being clever and popping the ear thingies on in the pram) I picked her up and applied the ear defence, and indulged ourselves with a bit of a bop.
Too much to see and do meant Isobel didn't go back to sleep, I wasn't worried, she wasn't unhappy we just stood and had a dance, like you do at outdoors concerts.
I'd obviously consumed too much picnic and my bottom had grown to the size of a small country because a middle-aged sour puss (quite a polite way of putting it me thinks) came up and told me how 'patient' the crowd had been with me but I was interrupting their view. Now, it's an outdoor concert, a music concert so people were dancing, it wasn't bloomin' Songs of Praise (mind you that's probably happy clappy enough to illicit a bit of bottom shaking these days).
At the time I was mortified, embarrassed to think I was upsetting people by an innocent act of enjoying both my child and the music. PD's blood instantly boiled, but restrained himself to mumbling profanities under his breath.
Turns out the woman was a liar; on our way out another lady came up to us and told us she had had to restrain her husband from having a pop at sour-puss on our behalf. Seems we were doing no harm at all.
Then on Tuesday I discovered not all pensioners smile at prams, but I really can't go there right now...
PS. I did warn you it was a tirade.
Wednesday, 16 July 2008
...you make me happy when skies are grey
It is amazing the reserves of stamina, strength and smiles having a baby gives you.
When you can't believe it's morning already once that baby smiles it's as if you've suddenly changed your batteries.
No matter how pants the world around you is, you can't crawl under the duvet and hide; it's really hard to deliver the coos, raspberries and silly faces a baby requires while sobbing your heart out, so crying is out of the question.
At 5pm when you don't think you can smile anymore, you find the strength to pick up your beautiful baby and whirl her around your head just to let her know that the sky's the limit.
All in all, Isobel has inspired me to live a better life, and is a reason to never give in. I didn't know I had it in me.
When you can't believe it's morning already once that baby smiles it's as if you've suddenly changed your batteries.
No matter how pants the world around you is, you can't crawl under the duvet and hide; it's really hard to deliver the coos, raspberries and silly faces a baby requires while sobbing your heart out, so crying is out of the question.
At 5pm when you don't think you can smile anymore, you find the strength to pick up your beautiful baby and whirl her around your head just to let her know that the sky's the limit.
All in all, Isobel has inspired me to live a better life, and is a reason to never give in. I didn't know I had it in me.
Tuesday, 15 July 2008
Happy Birthday Daddy
A plethora of Daddy posts today as it's PD's Birthday.
Isobel has done her first ever painting, a birthday card nonetheless.
Personally I was proud she held the brush without trying to eat it, let alone managed to conect it with the paper!
Isobel has done her first ever painting, a birthday card nonetheless.
Personally I was proud she held the brush without trying to eat it, let alone managed to conect it with the paper!
Like Father Like Daughter
PD,
Happy Birthday, your first as a fully-fledged, drool-wearing, nappy-changing, baby-jiggling Daddy. A role that I'm sure you will live up to and be proud of, just as we are proud of you.
Just to show that there is something of you in our little girl:
Happy Birthday, your first as a fully-fledged, drool-wearing, nappy-changing, baby-jiggling Daddy. A role that I'm sure you will live up to and be proud of, just as we are proud of you.
Just to show that there is something of you in our little girl:
Yes, the eyes may not be green (yet) but they are definitely yours, complete with your luscious lashes and unruly brows!
This may not have been planned but I'm pleased to have you as the father of my baby girl; I'm sure we'll have fun being her parents. Whatever else we achieve, together or alone, nothing will be as great as our little one, our baby Isobel.
Thank you
xxx
Monday, 14 July 2008
I'm so glad we had a witness
Isobel had been working up to it all day, she was contantly arching her back and reaching for toys that were behind her head.
And then, while playing with Eloise, she did it; she reached, and she stretched and she rolled from her back to her front and then she decided to roll back again.
How clever is she? I'm so glad someone else was there to see it.
And then, while playing with Eloise, she did it; she reached, and she stretched and she rolled from her back to her front and then she decided to roll back again.
How clever is she? I'm so glad someone else was there to see it.
Sunday, 13 July 2008
Okay, so it's been a while
I guess there are times in every girl's life when she doesn't really feel like writing everything down. Sometimes it's best just to get on with it.
But we haven't been idle:
We've played with our friends
We've been to a picnic concert in Kew Gardens - cool headphones (not a yummy mummy pic mind), not so cool people moaning about our standing up to dance baby happy, but, I won't go there because it will become a tirade.
I've been for a girly trip to the comedy club to see Harry Hill. And we all went to our local french bistro, Ma'cuisine for supper, where Isobel behaved impeccably, by which I mean she slept.
PD has had friends over for a Rugby brunch - okay so we plused the game to watch it at the more civilised time of ten rather than 8, but it didn't stop his beloved Springboks winning.
See, so we have a life, in fact I've been out 3 nights this week, but we've just been keeping it to ourselves.
Wednesday, 9 July 2008
One
Two
Thursday, 3 July 2008
Another confession but there have been so many I've lost count
I have had to say 'bugger the environment'. I know it's not a very pc thing to say but it's true, we no longer use environmentally friendly disposables (if that isn't too much of an oxymoron).
The Natures Care nappies for newborns were great, they fitted beautifully and were lovely and kind to Isobel's bottom - generally an all round win.
Size 2 and size 3 nappies must have been styled on those eighties pants where the crotch hung down around the knees: they were longer but had to be worn slit to the thigh as they didn't seem to grow around the middle. Not a happy nappy and certainly not the look we are going for this season.
So now Isobel sports the sleekest in nappies which while they don't save the planet, save leakages and don't restrict the wriggle.
Sorry.
The Natures Care nappies for newborns were great, they fitted beautifully and were lovely and kind to Isobel's bottom - generally an all round win.
Size 2 and size 3 nappies must have been styled on those eighties pants where the crotch hung down around the knees: they were longer but had to be worn slit to the thigh as they didn't seem to grow around the middle. Not a happy nappy and certainly not the look we are going for this season.
So now Isobel sports the sleekest in nappies which while they don't save the planet, save leakages and don't restrict the wriggle.
Sorry.
Wednesday, 2 July 2008
The Wonder of Modern Technology
I think this week I have sent PD every form of mobile phone message possible. Everday Isobel has done something that has just made me want to share the wonder of her with someone, and what better someone than PD.
On Monday I sent a picture message, I can't remember what it was in particular but looking that cute on a Monday morning has to be a feat.
Then it was a video message of Isobel singing to the trees.
Today it was a voice message by text (?!) of Isobel enjoying the sound of her own voice; where she gets that from I have no idea.
Where would I be without the mobile phone, heaven forbid I start to use it as a telephone!
On Monday I sent a picture message, I can't remember what it was in particular but looking that cute on a Monday morning has to be a feat.
Then it was a video message of Isobel singing to the trees.
Today it was a voice message by text (?!) of Isobel enjoying the sound of her own voice; where she gets that from I have no idea.
Where would I be without the mobile phone, heaven forbid I start to use it as a telephone!
Tuesday, 1 July 2008
One Quarter
Well, my little one you are a whole quarter of a year old today, there are so many posts I am yet to write but here are some of the new things this month:
I love that you now recognise story time, not only do you look at the book you turn the pages too. Funnily enough books are the only thing you don't try and suck.
As fascinating as we find you, you find yourself fascinating too, you are as amazed at what your hands do as we are. It definitely beats telly any day.
Trees, you are a tree hugger, well you would be if your arms were long enough.
You look at the world as if seeing it in detail for the first time. You know that things happen behind you and often crane your neck and dangle upside-down to check it out.
I'm not sure where your chattiness comes from (?! )but you chat to your many friends animated or not.
Otherwise, yes you grumble when your teeth hurt, but you smile, not indiscriminately but at those people who deserve it. Not that earning your smile is hard, all you ask for is to be offered one first.
I know I have started to relinquish the intimacy of feeding you but I too don't feel right feeding you a bottle, perhaps we will manage both for a while yet.
Isobel, everyday I am forever grateful that you chose me as your Mummy and every single day you do something new, I may get tired but I will never get tired of you.
xx
Sunday, 29 June 2008
Bottle Update
So, after a no go with Wednesday's lunchtime bottle, I successfully plied Isobel with it in the night.
And Friday? Hey, presto Isobel took the bottle with no fuss at all. So, that's the 10:30 feed covered.
It's just the timings for everything else that's all up the spout now. Isobel is waking up more often and earlier in the night now and I'm shattered - I thought formula was meant to have the opposite effect!
So with that and the smellier nappies I'm at a loss to see the benefit. But, the dwindling milk in my boobs implies that there is no going back now...
And Friday? Hey, presto Isobel took the bottle with no fuss at all. So, that's the 10:30 feed covered.
It's just the timings for everything else that's all up the spout now. Isobel is waking up more often and earlier in the night now and I'm shattered - I thought formula was meant to have the opposite effect!
So with that and the smellier nappies I'm at a loss to see the benefit. But, the dwindling milk in my boobs implies that there is no going back now...
Wednesday, 25 June 2008
So...
I lost the battle of the wills; Isobel still refused the bottle when she woke up.
As for the jabs: the three needles hurt, Isobel screamed and I shed a tear, but she cried far, far less than she did about the bottle.
What's a Mummy to do?
As for the jabs: the three needles hurt, Isobel screamed and I shed a tear, but she cried far, far less than she did about the bottle.
What's a Mummy to do?
I am the wickedest, most evil mother in the world
Well that's how it feels.
My daughter has cried and screamed herself to sleep and where she is still doing the sniff-hic.
All because I'm trying to wean her onto a bottle. I don't even know why. I have a perfectly good pair of breasts just bursting with milk, so why am I the one engaging in a battle of wills, not to mention washing and sterilising all the bottles.
And as soon as she wakes up and feeds - on the bottle - I have to take her for more jabs.
Not a good mother and daughter day. I just want to cry.
My daughter has cried and screamed herself to sleep and where she is still doing the sniff-hic.
All because I'm trying to wean her onto a bottle. I don't even know why. I have a perfectly good pair of breasts just bursting with milk, so why am I the one engaging in a battle of wills, not to mention washing and sterilising all the bottles.
And as soon as she wakes up and feeds - on the bottle - I have to take her for more jabs.
Not a good mother and daughter day. I just want to cry.
Tuesday, 24 June 2008
A Hollow Victory
After weeks of trying, but not being able to go through with it we've done it.
After an hour of tears, more Isobel's than mine this time, we've cracked it.
For lunch today, Isobel has had 5 ozs (give or take the bits she spat out or just allowed to dribble out of her mouth in defiance) of room temperature formula from a Tommy Tippee anatomically correct bottle.
The Health Vsitor said I should stop giving in because she'd know she could get her way (at 16 weeks?!), so today I didn't. Now I'm left with a boob about ready to explode - yes I know should express but I hate doing that - and a rather sad feeling.
Am I really ready to give up breastfeeding?
After an hour of tears, more Isobel's than mine this time, we've cracked it.
For lunch today, Isobel has had 5 ozs (give or take the bits she spat out or just allowed to dribble out of her mouth in defiance) of room temperature formula from a Tommy Tippee anatomically correct bottle.
The Health Vsitor said I should stop giving in because she'd know she could get her way (at 16 weeks?!), so today I didn't. Now I'm left with a boob about ready to explode - yes I know should express but I hate doing that - and a rather sad feeling.
Am I really ready to give up breastfeeding?
Monday, 23 June 2008
Big Dreams
Yesterday, Isobel took her last nap in her moses basket.
Yesterday, Isobel took her first sleep in her cot. Such a big bed for such a little baby, plenty of room for playing, and even more room for dreaming.
It must be said last night was one of the easiest bedtimes ever:
Bath, boob, book (Slinky Malinki, always a favourite) - check, check, and check.
Put down in cot sleepy - check.
Isobel roused, smiled and wanted to play, so I left her (else I knew I'd want to play too). She kicked about and chatted for 5 minutes, then boom, out like a light. No going to sleep grissle and drone, just gurgles and then... silence.
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