Spots!

Well my oldest son was sent home from school today with suspected chicken pox. He has since come out in even more spots and we are 99% sure it is chicken pox!

The poor little boy hoped he would be ok to come back to school tomorrow, he also voiced fears about being sent to bed when he got home and not being allowed to watch television - I am sure his teachers must think I am an evil Mummy, even though he has never been made to stay in bed (except at night-time!) and I don't think there has ever been a time when he has been restricted with his television viewing! He has now been home 6 hours and has spent most of that time playing his new DS game - television has not been an issue since that plopped through the letterbox!

So we are now destined to spend half term at home, we had planned a few days of chilling out around the house, but it looks like we will have to extend that theory to the whole week!

Valentines Weekend!

Eleven years ago this valentines day my lovely husband proposed to me, we had already been together for three years, and had just brought our first house together. We had been renting for six months previous to that with some friends, so we were new this living together thing.

He moved into my parents house quite early on in our relationship, and we thought we knew what it was like to live with each other after a year and took the plunge to get out there.

Not much changed, we still got on well, we loved each other, but the workload went up considerably, we were suddenly responsible for cleaning and tidying every room in the house, pay bills, cook all our own meals, make sure we had bread in and milk, if we didn't we had to go without. It was a huge learning curve, but we did it, and now here we are, 3 children, in a different house to the one we started in, we have done so many grown up things now, I almost consider us to be part of the adult world - but not quite. I am really not sure how we have been allowed to go on so long with buying houses, paying bills, they even let us have credit cards, and use the gas hob and electric oven! Three babies have been allowed to remain in our care, and no one has noticed yet that we are still a couple of kids ourselves! I admit at the age of thirty-two, and my husband (yes we were allowed to go and get married as well!!) who is thirty-four, we should really be considered as adults, but neither of us really feel all that different to when we first started out. I do feel a bit more tired now, and I am terribly responsible most of the time. I don't put my music up too loud, unless of course its a REALLY good song. I don't tend to drink too much now, having learnt my limitations (eventually!) I only play computed games after I have done my work. I get up in the morning and sort the children out, before myself, and I even do housework before I watch my programmes or play on the computer.

I still get excited by valentines, but only because I love any excuse to make a special dinner and spoil our little family. So we now have a traditional valentines celebration where we can really appreciate each other. This valentines weekend I am making lasagne, and me and my daugher have made vanilla cupcakes in the shape of hearts. We plan to ice them with pink icing, but at the moment we are waiting for them to cool down.

I'm not really sure what this blog was going to be about, or even what it is about really, I just kind of rambled on and ended up here....

New Baby High!

Well my son arrived at 02.35 on the 1st January 2011, 12 days overdue after 2 days of induction processes!

His arrival in the end was speedy and his poor Daddy who had been sent home from the hospital at 9.30 had to race back and arrived 20 minutes before he did!

Anyway that was 5 weeks and 1 day ago, and he is now part of the furniture slotting in as his brother and sister did before. His brother who turned 6 a week ago was our first baby, and the slotting in took longer as it took us a while to realise it was us who had to slot in! His sister who is 3 1/2 was easier and we were back on track quickly - we had to be with a toddler to contend with!

This time the enormity of the change hit me and I realised life would never be the same again, as soon as a bottle was finished, a nappy changed, a drink needed making and maybe a snack, a fight needed breaking up, bottles sterilised, clothes washed and dried, packed lunch made, dinners prepared a quick tidy round, nip about with the hoover, school runs, playgroup runs, shopping...the list is endless! Which is why we find ourselves with a 5 week old baby, and me typing a blog entry one handed!

3 days ago I had 3 wisdom teeth removed under sedation, my parents stepped in to assist with the children, and my husband signed up as driver and carer.

Fear is not something I often feel - I am a worrier and will worry about everything, but fear is different, and what I experienced on that day was pure fear. Not of the pain - although I was concerned by this obviously! My fear was that I would not wake up from the sedation that my 3 babies would be left Motherless. I don't proclaim to be the best Mother in the world - but I am theirs and I don't want them to grow up without me.

The procedure was quick and easy, my husband was called through to recovery 20 minutes later to find me drugged up with tears of relief pouring down my face. I was alive and it was over.

3 days later I am still eating mushy foods, but am not taking any painkillers, and the sad heavy weight I have been lugging round with me the past 3 years has gone. I sleep at night, the worry is almost all gone. There is still time for dry sockets and other complications, of course as a worrier with access to the internet I will always have fuel to feed my worries, but I feel on top of the world now the procedure is done.

So as I sit here, taking 2 hours to write a quick blog entry with my baby son tucked under my arm and the various other pulls from the children, and the house in general I am the happiest and most content I have been in years.

2011 would appear to be a good year so far!

A Little Better.....

Well, today is Tuesday on my first week of maternity leave. We awoke on Monday to a blanket of snow, and a neighbour who works at the school knocking on the door to let us know that the school was closed due to a burst water main.

I was left with one very happy little boy, he laughed, smiled and generally took his extra day off in good grace. My lovely other half wasn't at work till lunch time, so we had a fairly relaxed morning together - a treat we didn't know we had coming!

Today, I drove up the hills to take my little boy to school, as the weather was a little poor - hail and snow, but not settling. We got out of the car and walked the three minute walk into school in a cascade of sleet, my coat does not do up at the moment as my full term pregnant bump sticks out too far now, so I was frozen to ice by the time we got to his classroom.

I then walked my daughter back to the car, where we almost got run over by a Mother racing round the corner in her haste to get her own child to school. The horror that went through my mind in that split second was awful, and I shouted at her stupid car and her stupid unkowing face.

I then took my little girl to playgroup and retired home to spend a couple of hours pottering about.

To be honest I didn't do a lot. You don't often get the opportunity to sit with crap on tv, and play mindless card games on your computer, and I took the bull by the horns and ran with it!

Fast forward to this evening, my other half is ironing - a little chore that I can already feel winging its way back to me as soon as this baby makes his appearance. He is watching a film, and I feel a little bored, I think I should go and make my little boys packed lunch for tomorrow - if he will even need it. Its been snowing this afternoon - and although once it stops it does melt eventually, it does keep having a go at putting down more snow - they say we are to have this weather for the next 2 months on and off. Lets hope the baby chooses an off day to arrive, so we can travel to the hospital without too much trouble!

We are coming closer to Christmas now, tomorrow is in fact the first of December. But I don't think I have ever felt less Christmassy ever. I have watched Xmassy movies, listened to all my usual favourite Xmassy songs. I've been wrapping up presents, eating mince pies, making Christmas cakes, reading through my Christmas cook book - but nothing.

I am a control freak at heart, and I think my major problem with getting into the spirit of things this year is to do wth having absolutely no idea when my baby will arrive!

The other two children were both late. my son was 12 days late, and my daughter 9 days late.

I should really expect the same with this one too - but the irrational part of me is wondering if he will arrive in time for Xmas. I have a lovely vision of sitting on Xmas morning with the children excitedly tearing off the wrapping paper, and me sitting in the corner of the sofa with our new baby nestled on my lap.

In all honesty if the baby does arrive before Xmas, it will make it anything but relaxing.

Sitting here this evening, and having deleted things that I feel may upset people at some stage, I have discovered that growing up, or growing older and wiser maybe, is more to do with learning to just shut up, and less about knowing anything more than you did already.

I feel very old at the moment, and very quiet.

Emotional, tired and ready to be me again!

Just read through my last post and have started crying again - I am so glad I wrote it, as I had forgotten most of that day - except for the pressure of trying hard not to cry at my baby girl growing up!

I cried again shortly after as we received her forms to request a place at school for her.

She really is far too small to go to school, she is only 3, we shouldn't have to contemplate these things when she hasn't even reached the heady heights of four years of age....

Anyway, I am now almost 36 weeks pregnant with her baby brother. Her older brother is going through one of his patches again, bickering with his sister at every opportunity, and bickering with me over every little thing. If I say the sky is blue then I am a liar, if I ask him to pull his socks up so he doesn't trip over I am ruining his life. I hate to say I have been a horrid Mummy this week - instead of rising above the petty childishness of it all (he is not yet six after all) I have been bickering back, and worse shouting and hollering at him. I am so tired and have barely any patience left, and I seem to remember feeling this way just before my daughter arrived, and it didn't shift for many many months after, despite her being a joy and sleeping very well for a newborn. I fear that I am turning back into that crappy Mother and I don't want to. So I shall struggle with my horridness and hope that he forgives me for my occasional outburst, just as I do his.

To be fair, he has been difficult. He is extremely opinionated, which I love and want! I want him to be an individual little soul and have his own unique viewpoint of the world. I just wish that his viewpoint didn't always include wandering about with his trousers falling down (he wont undo them to go to the toilet, he just pulls them down over his hips and hoists them back up as best he can - destroying the elastic which eventually gives up all hope of holding the rest of his trousers up and so another pair of trousers disappears into the bin!) or telling me a long list of reasons as to why he was perfectly within his rights to (a) hit his sister (b) play with his sisters toys (c) wont allow his sister to play with his toys (d) play on his Dad's Xbox (e) stay up late on a school night (f) can't do his homework because it will take him one hundred years to complete (g) can't pick his clothes up off the floor....the list is virtually endless, he has a 'reasonable' excuse for everything, and a long winded explanation to go with it which almost always results in my head resting in my hands and my eyes rolling into the back of my head!

At the same time as being opinionated and difficult, he is my lovely little boy. He likes cuddles with his Mummy and will sit and talk for hours on end about Ben 10, Star Wars and his favourite toys which are at the moment Lego. He will ask for every toy advertised on tv, from toys aimed at newborn babies, to dolls aimed at older girls - nothing escapes the standard 'Can I have that for Christmas?' pops out of his mouth, and now he has taught his sister to do this too.....poor Father Christmas hasn't a hope with the list he has produced this year, and has struggled terribly to find out what he would actually like to find in his stocking on Christmas morning....

The ready to be me part refers to being pregnant. I just feel like a tired shell at the moment, containing a baby. I cannot wait to meet him and hold him, and see what he looks like and give him his name. At the moment he is giving me a hard time with kicking and wriggling about, and I feel that my life at the moment is between my stomach moving about like something out of alien...also sickness has kind of returned so not feeling great about that, and not being able to sleep properly of comfortably at night leads to me looking like the walking dead most of the day, with the occasional nap to try and keep me going and keep crappy Mummy at bay a bit....

Feel like a moany moo tonight, there are no solutions and will all be better in time. But that doesn't actually make me feel any better right now!!

It hits home on a Saturday night how tired and miserable I am, I have my pjs on, thick dressing gown and big fluffy blue socks on. I may treat myself with a glass of sparkling water in a minute....my latest addiction. I may even stay up past 9pm although they way I am feeling right this minute I may tumble into my bed sooner.

Tired.com

Well it was my little girls first day of playgroup today. I've been mentally preparing myself for this since she was born, and am still not quite ready.

We started the day with me awake stupidly early and watching some crap on tv, then my little darling arrived at my bedside, and we had girly snuggles and cuddles and watched childrens tv until it was time to get up and get dressed.

First of all the little sparkly pink trousers I chose for her to wear appear to now be two inches too short, so we had to change them for some jeans, which were also verging on being too short. So not only am I having to come to terms with the fact my little girl is going to playgroup - I am also having to deal with the fact that she is finally growing into clothes that are appropriate to her age. Some of the labels in her trousers are for age 12-18 months, and at just over 3 years old that makes her quite tiny.

Next we had to get through breakfast, she ate a good breakfast, as did her brother, and then I did her hair back in a ponytail and took some photos of her all ready for her first day.

Time seemed to steam along, as we were soon walking up the hills to take her brother to school, and she was declaring that she was a big girl now, and so walked 2 feet ahead of us almost all the way to school.

We dropped her brother at school - he went in beautifully and gave her a big hug and wished her luck for her first day at playgroup. I could feel tears welling already at this point, then I remembered that stupid Mummy had forgotten her piece of fruit.

So we wandered up to the co-op and she chose a couple of mandarin oranges to take with her. This was a good task, as we needed to kill a little time before we got to playgroup - as there is nothing worse than standing outside playgroup waiting for them to open the doors.

On the way we held hands, and I gulped back tears as she chatted in her little monkey way. She told me she felt a little bit sad, and I gulped back the tears harder than ever, and told her it was normal to feel that way.

She moaned that it was hard work walking to playgroup, and it is hard work, we had worn ourselves out on the first lot of hills!

When we arrived we had a short wait, and then the doors opened and the other children started wandering in, my lovely little girl was desperate to get in and get going, and was tugging at my reluctant hand. I wanted to run away and take her back home where we could hide away from the world, but I knew deep in my heart that you have to go through these things.

She is such a lovely natured child, and she was smiling and waving at a little girl who was crying and upset about going in to playgroup. Unfazed by her tears she just did what she could to try and cheer the unknown little girl up.

We signed her in, and handed in her fruit and passed over the reams of paper work that accompanies a child starting at playgroup.

She looked around the room with a big beaming smile - she was finally here!

I asked her what she wanted to do first, pointing out all the quiet activities, but she jumped right in and wanted to go with the rough and tumble of the wooden slide.

I asked her if she was ok if I left, and she said she was. I stood redundant for a moment or two until she turned to me and said 'Go on then go!' She was ready for me to remove myself, and I was ready to as the tears I had been gulping back since daybreak were starting to break free - and I did not want her to see them!

I walked out and phoned my lovely husband, and sobbed most of the way home into my phone.

I am so proud of her confidence, and so happy she was happy for me to go, but my baby has started playgroup, and I am sad.

I kept myself busy all morning, ironing, and drinking tea, and returned to collect her with my Mum.

We walked in and she saw me and shouted 'Mummy Mummy!' her big beaming smile and she ran towards me, flung her arms round my neck and hugged me tight, she then hugged her Grandma and told us she had a great time. She collected her picture she had made, and we walked out hand in hand. One of the ladies said what a good little girl she is and how they hardly knew they had her there, which really didn't surprise me at all. She is a good little girl.

In the car she told me she had missed me but had not been scared. I told her I had missed her too, and started the job of holding back the tears again.

I did well I held back the tears till she fell asleep, and now they pour.

The most stupid thing is I would have been at work anyway, but knowing she was doing something new and making her own little life away from me just makes me cry.

I am so proud of her, and so pleased and so happy that she had a good day, and she is so excited about going again tomorrow. What a clever little thing she is.

Is that the time already?

I have a tummy full of ham, cheese and red jalapeno rolls and also a 24 week pregnant bump. Where has the time gone?

This is my best pregnancy out of the three so far, My lovely oldest son was nightmare pregnancy, I could barely stay awake most of the time, I couldn't eat much, was sick a lot, and generally felt terrible. My pregnancy with my daughter was not as bad as with my eldest, had more energy, but then I had to, being a Mummy to an energetic 2 year old at the time. But this time has to beat even that time, we had a few health worries with my daughter, and I spent the second half of the pregnancy worried sick and wishing the time away so we could meet her and find her to be beautiful and perfect - which of course she was and still is.

Everything so far has run fairly smoothy, and am quite enjoying my bump, but he (yes we found out he is a boy) does kick me really hard and it actually hurts sometimes! Maybe a future footballer?

My lovely husband is on call this weekend for work, he didn't get home till late last night, he was out early this morning for work, and has just returned home at 1.30 this afternoon, he walked in the door with 2 seperate mobile phones ringing, looking frazzled and quite frankly pissed off.

So that is our bank holiday weekend then, I'll see him occasionally between phone calls, and spend most of the time seperating the children from fights - although to be fair, they have been great so far today.

We were going to see Toy Story 3 at the cinema, in 3D this afternoon, but I am not sure that is going to happen now. This makes me sad as I have wanted to see it since it came out in the cinema 6 weeks ago, and the children would rather like to see it as well. Its the last weekend before my eldest returns to school after his summer holiday, which has flown past us.

We did him proud though between us and the grandparents, he has seen rescued horses at a sanctuary, been on piers and won teddies, seen steam trains, and spent time on the beach, he had a week in France, and visited the hell that is Disneyland, a huge french palace, a traditional french market and a tiny village where all the shops were too posh for us to go into! He has tasted French sausages, French Macdonalds, we were in the Brie region and so he sampled brie, and other cheeses, meats and fantastic bread and pastries.

Time is ticking on, and now my family is back in the same house again, I should go and spend time with them. (and on the subject of time, my eldest son is learning to tell the time, and I am enjoying the updates!)