From Boob to Bottle

Yes my good people I've decided to make the move and try and put the little man onto the bottle. Partly because I wouldn't mind a night on the bottle myself but mostly because, well alright, it's mostly because I want a night on the bottle. (Don't you judge me! haha!) 

Prepare for self praise. I've done over 5 month's exclusively breast feeding (so formal, I'm going with 'feeding him myself.') I've done over 5 month's exclusively feeding him myself and I feel a sense of pride for doing so, also an overwhelming sense of pride in my son for being a dream and taking so well to it! Sleeping through the night since about 2 weeks, 6 hours at 2 weeks, 8 hours from 5 weeks and 10 hours from 7 weeks. One word.... lucky! I even had to check with the health visitor that I wasn't letting him sleep too much! He has 5 feeds during the day three to four hours apart, two or three nap times and bed at 9:00, so as you can see, we've done quite well. (With all this horn tooting smuggery I've probably created a monster who won't come off the boob until he's seven or something, then I'll be having to pay for therapy! I'll see if the horns being blown then!?)  However, now he's getting nosey and feeding time is less relaxed. Not for him of course but definitely for me. You see, he thinks my boob is a tumbler and that my nipple is some kind of bendy straw, just stretching  and bending it over to whatever he wants to look at, clamping his little gums firmly down on it at the same time.....OUCH! I've developed a condition called 'elastiboob' and my breasts now belong in some kind of baby feeding freak show, or could at the very least be used as sails in some new form of wind sport. 

Anyway, that's quite enough breast boob talk and horn tooting, especially seeing as I'm tooting my own, and let's move on to the milk that I've picked. After doing minimal research, i.e. asking face book friends and my two fabulous parent sisters, both my sister's have given me the right advice I feel. I have decided to go with Aptamil. Although with my little girl I went with Sma, (fed myself and then combination fed from 2 months) she was very easy to make the transition with, my boy however is reluctant to take even breast milk from a bottle therefore as sister Number 2 said this has the most similar taste to breast milk,  I'm going with it. I may still have to change bottles (Tommee Tippee at the moment) but if the taste is fairly similar and it looks to have more science going for it, (oh yeah, I'm absolutely down with the nucleotides and Omega's) then hopefully I've made the right decision. Watch this space people, watch this space. 

Anyway, wish me luck good people please, because although I'm trying to make light of the situation, nobody likes seeing their baby upset, and the last time I tried him on a bottle he was really upset, so I'm hoping to persevere and now he's a bit older, get a bit of a smoother transition. I can only hope.

Toodleoo!

Happy Fecking Birthday!

Ahoy there! And what a fecking hilarious welcome into my 31st year. 

Here's the gist, not in any particular order, but all happened today.

• Bubbles thrown all over the kitchen by a hysterical 4 year old with a phobia of ants. Ant on the bubble tub, daughter saw the ant, screamed and launched the bubbles. Cue frothy mess all over the kitchen. Granted, it needed a scrub anyway, but I did not want to be forced into it on my birthday!
• Crushed globe jig-saw by the same daughter. After being told "don't roll it or throw it treasure it'll break." And "It's not like a ball, it won't bounce." Daughter pretends it's a chair instead (naturally!) and caves it in with her petite little bum. Repairable but a serious pain in my own arse to get the last piece in. Still not succeeded.
• Nappy water bowl launched across the bedroom by me, accidental, not temperamental, fecking king size duvet on a double bed! Too much swishing about and SPLASH!
• stubbed toes from myself and my daughter on the ladder in the bathroom, (of course, where the hell else do you want me to keep my ladder?)
•  and finally I forgot to put the effing jeffing bins out this morning so that will be nicely festering by next week especially if the weather hots up.

However, I did get to see the whole thing through wearing a brand new pair of Converse All Stars (apart from the toe stubbing where i was going commando,)  and with a belly full of KFC, Thornton's Moments and brews in my very own 'Star Mum' giant mug. Yummy! I also had a little surprise birthday cake which was great. Lets face it, what is a birthday without cake? Oh, and family of course ;D

Day Status: Busy!

Hello and welcome! 

Goodness me. Today was one of those days. The kind of day when you just don't manage to even get a hot brew down you. The morning specifically. I shall go through the morning in bullet points if you don't mind. Would you care to join me? Please do. Grab a cuppa, (preferably hot!) and read along with me.

1. Wake up - obviously
2. Make a brew
3. Hear the baby stir - stir brew have a sip. Brew Status: Hot
4. Change and feed baby - eldest enters the room.
5. Prepare eldest's brekkie - Some chocolate malarkey, bad parenting.
6. Sip brew - Brew status: tepid
7. Get self dressed - long loose top and jeggings. Jeggings status: Up.
8. Dress eldest in freshly laundered uniform - not off of the bedroom floor, good parenting.
9. Sip brew - Brew status: cold. Nuke it. (Microwave it for those who no not this term.)
10. Sip Brew - Brew status: Hot again.
11. Sort family hair - me: Messy with Fudge Shaper, Husband: ponytail, he did it himself clever boy. Eldest: French plait. I did it, clever girl.
12. Load baby into pram, put sun cream on and gather school tit bits - Jeggings status: slightly lower.
13. Sip brew - Brew status: tepid again. Bollocks!
14. School run - Jeggings status: gathering at knees.
15. Home again, hug baby and put him in chair with toys.
16. Plug in iron and put kettle on.
17. Make brew, sip it -Brew status: hot.
18. Start ironing, burn elbow - Iron status: Really fecking hot!
19. Finish ironing, sip brew - Brew: status cold. Give up on brew, pour glass of orange juice.
20. Take baby upstairs, sing silly songs and cuddle him.
21. Lay baby on the bed - bad parenting. 
22. Fetch ironed clothes - swear at iron on passing. It remains un-forgiven for the burn.
23. Put clothes away and sing to baby - Jeggings status: way down!
24. Clean bathroom, change baby and hoik up jeggings - jeggings status: uncomfortably high. Must get new pants.
25. School run part 2 - hug daughter, get home, make sarnies of choice.

And that was just the morning. Cold brews, hot iron and tight pants, what a day! The afternoon brought more mayhem of course. My girl choked on a grape and fell down the stairs! Fortunately only a bruised bum is left to remind her to hold onto the banister. Poor lass. And all I've managed to do between playing and soothing bruises and shock, is feed my baby and do a few loads of washing, all the while practically dehydrating from my lack of hot brews!

I reckon tomorrow will bring more of the same. Not that I mind of course but I really would like a ho cuppa. I think that's the only thing I miss from having the wee 'uns. Still, if that's the only thing missing from my life, along with the lottery win I've been craving, then I don't reckon I'm doing too badly. 

I'm falling asleep over the keyboard here, probably from lack of tea, so I'm thinking I need to wrap it up. I want to write about my allotment because I'm so chuffed with how things are going on it. Most of my veg are flourishing, but well, that's for next time. 

Toodlepip all. Good morning or sweet dreams depending on the time!

Silent Sunday

No Comedy, just the beauty of being a mummy.

Thrill Seekers!

   Hullo there reader! After doing a spot of cleaning the other morning -nothing major just pots, ironing, squirted a bit of polish so it smelled like I'd done some- I decided to phone sister number three of the first batch to see if she and the kids wanted to meet me and my brood for a wee wander. The answer was positive and the plan was to walk and meet up half way. We stuck to the plan and did indeed walk and meet halfway, the halfway line being The Dock Museum of Barrow in Furness, Cumbria. 

    We said our Hello's, and complained about the heat as we trundled along Channelside walk. We admired the lavender which smelt lovely, as we approached Jubilee Bridge. All very tame and normal until.... there came the simply WILD behavior.

  Well my family are obviously adrenaline junkies. We have clearly set a new bar on devil-may-care activities. What did we do? Be patient and I shall tell you. Bungee jump? No. Sky dive? No. Waiting on Jubilee Bridge for a bus to come and make it jolt? Abso-bloody-lutely!!! We take it to a new level of thrill seeking. I should have been more careful of course, involving my offspring, sibling and niece and nephew-ing, in such a reckless activity but hey, I've used it before and I'll use it again, that's just how I roll. 

Oh Look! I actually do bake bread.
Just absolutely not first thing in the morning.

   Nothing else of great importance has been happening over the past couple of days, just the normal day to day malarkey. You know the sort of stuff, waking up get the kids fed, washed, dressed. Put a wash load on, peg the wet stuff out, make pack ups, bake fresh bread and cakes etc. Hahaha! I'm obviously lying through my teeth here, I think we can all safely say that I'm a bare minimum kind of woman. And talking of teeth, I'm lucky if mine get scrubbed before 9:10 a.m! If they don't, I just have to make sure I don't smile or chat on the school run. (Cue thoughts of "ignorant, sour faced cow.") I then have to make time for chin wagging on the pick up,  (cue thoughts of "weird, schizophrenic cow") to catch up on the parent gossip. I have to say though, I've never been to school in my pj's, I mean, you've got to set some standards for the children haven't you haha!

   That my friends is about all I have to share at the moment. I'm off on the hunt for some other Mum and craft blogs.

   Toodleoo!

    

I'm going Bald!!

   That's right people, I'm losing my hair. I'm telling you, it's not like I haven't got a high enough forehead to begin with, I've now been graced with an extra half inch for goodness sake. It happened after my first baby too. Everything is great for about 3 months, then suddenly the bath water drains a hell of a lot slower and you start picking rather long hairs out the crack of your butt. Oh believe me, it's every bit as attractive as it sounds.
 I googled it, (postpartum hair loss, not hairy bum picking) something about your follicles going dormant because they don't rest while you're pregnant, hence the luxuriant locks you get during pregnancy. Children have a lot to answer for, it's a good job my boy is cute bless him.

   Mind you, it's probably a good thing this hair loss malarkey, it's prompted me to get a long overdue haircut. (Just trying to find the silver lining here!) It's about time I had a spot of pampering so I have booked in for the weekend. A cut and colour with a compulsory fringe to camouflage the receding hairline. They better do a good job as well, they're charging me 70 quid! Still at least it only takes about 8-12 months to rectify itself and start growing again. I can then go back to not bothering with haircuts and looking like a bedraggled, land bound mermaid, with only hair and shells to cover my lady lumps. Oh yeah, that's how I roll!

   Well readers, that is about the gist of today's session. Short and sweet, much like my hair will be after the chop! 

    If this is happening to anyone else.... just thank whatever gods you believe in that it isn't your teeth! That's what I'm doing.

Toodleoo!

Clear Out the Crap!

The computer and General Crap

Hello there! Sort of following on from my last post, I've decided to make some big changes to help get things moving along. For starters, clear out the front room. Heavens above! It is a mess and I'm not just talking about a few toys on the floor. I'm talking about toys, play dough, guitars, and general crap ALL OVER the whole room. I would take a before shot of the room but frankly, I'm actually embarrassed, so the before shot is out. I have however stretched to some 'after the before, but before the after' shot's, which still might be pushing health and safety and Environmental Health rules of some kind. 

Some Guitars and General Crap

And now I've got the 'I'm a slovenly minger' point across, lets move on to the plan.

As I was saying, when the front room is cleared of garbage, I should like to turn it into an office come library come crafty area sort of thing. A sort of room of concentration, creativity and business. I'm very exited about it. Once I have at least one room of the house cleared and functional I can then begin formulating a plan for the rest of the house. Mostly one big plan. Ie, Rid the house of shite! But lots of mini (clean the sofa.) and maxi (Career change.) plans will also come to pass hopefully. 

Unfortunately everything that I can plan for has to not involve funds of any kind at all. Me and my little family are completely skint. We have a lot of love under this roof but zero cash. And that takes me stupendously onto my next point. Selling crap.

A BIT OF CLEAR FLOOR!
And Some General Crap.

Anything and everything that I do not need, wear, use etc. Shall be sold or given to charity, depending on the quality of the items or whether or not I can be bothered packing and posting. May as well try to earn a few bob, you know, what with the whole skint thing I mentioned before. I may well earn enough for a new craft table. Oooo that would be nice. Stop daydreaming KYLA! 

Maybe this is it. Maybe it's taken me until my 30th (nearly 31st) year to gain a bit of ambition and motivation! Maybe I might not be such a disaster area after all. Although taking a look around my front room, I may already have bitten off more than I can chew. And I'm a porker, I can chew a lot! 

Wish me luck!

What Should I Be When I Grow Up?

Goodness me this is a question that has been bugging me for a while now. I'd really like to re-train myself in doing something I love. Not so much at the moment because I have my two fab kiddiwinks to take care of and that's going to take up most/all of my time for quite a few years, but I'm thinking when my boy starts nursery in four years, (can't beat planning ahead!) I've got a bit of spare time to educate myself in something new. 

At the moment I'm on maternity from my cleaning job, and while the cleaning job is

• money
• perfect shift hours
• not bad pay
• fits in with my life nicely
• and has the chance of being offered over time.

Let's face it, nobody wants to be a cleaner for the rest of their life. I really want to have a shot at doing something I love. One problem mind... not entirely sure what I would love to do. 

I love getting creative and I already make some little things for relatives and myself, cards, cakes and poetry  mostly, so perhaps taking a leap and starting up my own business. Perhaps that might be too ambitious though as I am officially Her Royal Highness, the Queen of dis-organisation. Call me thick but you probably need to be organized to run your own business. I'm going to take some of those online career quiz's, and have fun seeing what I have the skills for. Watch me come back with 'your skills are suited too CLEANING' and/or 'growing cauliflowers' 

Hug Me!

Well, like I said, I've a while to think about it all. The most important thing in my life is my family and they come first. Not as a chore but as a pleasure. Oh, and my allotment is on the list as a close second, so I shall continue to nurture my children, my husband and my cauli's and live my little life contentedly. 

Bloody Housework!

   Honestly I know not where to begin. My house is and looks like it shall ever remain... a shit hole. Pardon my colorful language choice but blimey. Kids in the house means a constant flow of toys, games, craft materials etc. all over the floor. I have to admit, I'm a big contributor to this constant flow, but that's OK in my eyes. Because I'm the one who has to clean and tidy, I definitely get to make mess. It's only fair.

   Please see exhibit A rather delightful example of what my beautiful daughter leaves for me after a play session. This, and I quote "Mummy, I like making a mess!" Really? I had absolutely NO idea. Don't get me wrong, I'm actually the kind of person who laughs at this sort of thing. As long as no little pieces go missing, (Note, all boxes are still lidded.) then I am fine. We all have a giggle, tidy up then wait for another tornado to hit tomorrow. Fortunately my husband is also of this temperament, so that saves a whole lot of family aggro.

Exhibit A 

   One particular thing that my husband does that winds me up, has to do with the bath. He NEVER rinses the bath around. I don't know why it irks me so much but it really does. Still, if that's all I've got to whinge about then well, I really shouldn't be whinging should I? 

   I really do need to get back on track with the housework. Since having the wee lad I've been slacking. I can't even blame it on the baby because 98% of the time he's brilliant. I need to formulate a plan of action. A chart perhaps of what needs doing and when etc. Or I should stop writing list's and compiling charts about cleaning and actually pick up a flippin' duster! That way, something might actually get cleaned. NO, I don't think so.

   It's My daughter's sports day tomorrow, one thing I absolutely hated when I was at school even when I was really young. I was very aware that I was utterly crap at all sports available on sports day and I've come to terms with it. I mean, I'm 4 foot 11.75 inches tall,  pear shaped, with zero tolerance for competitive streaks. So anything more energetic than tiddly winks, is completely off the table. 

   I digress. This bit's about my daughter and there I go whinging on again.

   I really can't wait to see her  play. She's told me she'll be running really fast and she going to win! (Well she doesn't get that from me!) Good God! I hope they don't make me do the egg and spoon race again!

  

 Well, as I appear to be nodding off at the computer desk, I'm thinking I should probably sign off. So cheerio one and all and take it easy!

New Allotment. New Baby. New Anti-Wrinkle Cream Needed.

   Blimey it's been a while, and believe me a lot has happened. First things first.
   This is actually something I was supposed to post in November last year, being smack bang in the middle of pregnancy number 2 we managed to acquire one! An allotment that is. One of my little family's dreams, small though it may be, has come true! We can now plant and nurture the cauliflowers that our hearts have long desired!

Planted and ready to grow!

It was not the best time to begin the project. Being half way through a pregnancy was not an ideal time to start picking up forks and digging for your life, but my husband was also excited about it and my daughter has proved a dab hand with a hoe so they were in charge at the beginning. I just picked out seeds and did a bit of research, When should I plant said cauli? For example.

Back breaking work needed!

The Burnett allotment project is now well under way since I had my baby, (Boy, gorgeous! More on him later) the top half is half planted and half waiting for planting, but the bottom half... WHOA! That half is going to need some T.L.C. There is a serious weed situation that needs dealing with....pronto!

Me and my Boy

My new arrival, as I mentioned previously, was a boy. A simply gorgeous boy if I do say so myself and I love the little fella to bits. He's such a good baby I don't know how I got so lucky to be honest. My daughter loves him as well which is great. There's no friction at the moment. A spot of jealousy at the very beginning, when visitors came round. My girl hardly ever spoke to anyone so the surprise on visitors faces when she struck up conversations, (drawing attention away from the wee lad) was really rather amusing.

Another boasting parent moment I'm afraid. My daughter is doing so well at school I'm brimming with pride! She knows all her alphabet both normally and phonetically, she spells out small words by herself and coming on leaps and bounds with her confidence! Chest. Swelling. So. Proud.

   Well, I reckon that's all I can (hopefully) hold your attention with for the moment. Plenty more has happened, but I shall save the 'failed to dilate' story for another time.
Toodleoo!