Be Careful What You Wish For


, , ,

Monday morning started as usual, same old thing, to be fair it didn’t matter that it was Monday, it could have been any day of the week. I muttered under my breath “Groundhog Day” and that’s exactly what it felt like. Day in, day out, mundane, predictable, rushed. Each day has a slight variation from the next but all in all they are much of a muchness. Wake up, feed the baby, give both babies their breakfast, clean up the breakfast mess, get showered, get the girls ready, partake in a morning activity, come home, give the girls lunch, clean up the mess after lunch, story time, babies down for their naps, tidy the house/iron/food shopping, girls get up, give them a snack… You get the picture, right?

Well, it appeared that the universe heard my mutterings of ungratefulness and decided it was going to throw hand me something rather different to deal with. I got a phone call offering me some work, which I readily accepted. The unfortunate thing was it was 2 whole weeks of work. So going from not working for over 2 years I was thrown in the deep end. Right before Christmas I could neither turn down the money or the opportunity. Knowing in the back of my mind I wanted to work with children again in some capacity, the work involved intervention with year 7 students. There was a lot of child care juggling over the 2 weeks and my family were amazing. I LOVED being away from the girls, in a good way. It reminded me that I was me, not just someone’s mummy. And the time I had with the girls seemed more exciting because I so looked forward to seeing them. Although, I don’t know if I could do full time all the time, it did show me that you can do anything when you need to. If the need ever arose I know I could work full time and manage a house and children.

Following my 2 weeks of working with year 7’s it confirmed my idea that I had to find an avenue to working with children again but in a capacity that I could make a difference. There was many nights of deep discussions and planning and ideas. I put it out to the universe that I wanted to study again and within a week or so, I received a phone call from my mum, telling me about a house near one door but one from her.

It seemed a scary prospect to move from a fairly affluent, good school boasting South Manchester suburb to a well known area, that well should we say is not a fairly affluent, good school boating South Manchester suburb. BUT it would mean we could downsize and save a lot of money each month. Obvs, there was the advantage of being extremely close to my mum and all that comes with that. I know that’s not a lot of people’s ideal, but we get on well and she is amazing with the girls.

We made the decision to move and at the end of November we shifted all our shit (most of which refused to go up the stairs in our modern, new build). Awesome! I could bore you with all the reasons why the move has since proven to be a good one, but this post is already dragging on and I’m sure you want to get to the point of it all.

Well, since moving I completed my UCAS application and I am currently waiting for decisions from both Manchester metropolitan and Salford universities regarding degree courses I’ve applied for. I’ve opted for full time study, mainly because I like working under pressure and more likely because I’m stupid and completely underestimate the level of work I need to do. My mum will be chief of child care. I couldn’t ask for anyone better.

I have also taken on some more intervention work, this time with year 11’s, just one day per week, helping them with exam prep. This has concreted my decision that I want to teach. So here’s to the next four years of study! Wish me luck.

And so, in conclusion, just be careful next time you’re having a little moan about how boring and uninteresting your life seems. You never know what is around the corner and how quickly life can do a 360. Without getting too spiritual on y’all… If you believe a miracle will happen, just make sure you’re ready to take the miracle on.


The Importance Of Being 2 and 4 months


, ,

Dear Mum and Dad (yea I’m almost 2 and a half and I’ll shorten your names if I want to),

I love you both sooooo much but there are a few things which I’d like out in the open. I’ve been pondering the best way to tackle these issues and I have tried to demonstrate by my behaviour how unhappy I am with a few things, but to no avail! Hence this letter. Please don’t take offence, it’s nothing personal, given my chance over again, I’d defo still choose you two as parents but I just need you to see my end of the deal.

Where to start, oooh I know SLEEP, yup you know that thing you try and make me do twice a day under the guise of it being a benefit to me! I get it, I know I need to sleep but I don’t want to, I know I’m missing out on something, I know you’ll be dancing in the kitchen, drinking tea and scoffing cake. I’m not stupid! When you tell me you’re going for a rest too, it’s rubbish, I know! You’ll be busy playing with my little sister while I’m in the land of nod. To make things worse, you’ll come and wake me when YOU think I’ve had enough sleep, scared I won’t sleep at night. Have I ever not slept at night? No, so leave me sleeping, PLEASE! If for some crazy reason you DO have to wake me up, don’t be so flipping happy about it. Imagine me bursting into your bedroom while you’re fast asleep, singing and waving and just being generally jolly…. You get my point.

Next, I am not a performing monkey. Contrary to popular opinion I do not like performing to friends and family. So I sing a new song at home, it doesn’t mean I want to stand on a home made stage with everyone watching, busting out my dance moves to all and sundry. I can count to 20, I can write some letters and numbers and I know my alphabet, but that’s for me to practice in the privacy of my own home.

Ok, here goes… the whole here’s your new little sister deal! Yup, you guessed it I’m totally not in a good space about that bomb you dropped on me. There we were quite happy just the 3 of us, you were pretty fat mum, but I could deal with that, off I go to nursery one day, come home and there’s a baby in the house. She’s pretty cute don’t get me wrong, but she’s just always there. She gets the cuddles first, special feeding time with you, she’s cries, you run, spoon fed, dressed, meantime I’m just figuring out why her needs override all of mine. She is growing on me and we have started playing together and laughing at stuff only sisters can, but she’s starting to get around now and touching my things! Not so cool! She pumps and everyone laughs, she can’t even talk and you guys think it’s amazing that she gurgles and giggles. I’m busy doing Monet style works of art and they don’t even get wall space. So, I figured if I behave more like her, you’ll give me the attention I need, but it seems to make it worse, you tell me to stop acting like a baby, I just don’t get it. What do you want from me??

That leads me nicely on to SHARING. Let me make this perfectly clear, I DON’T want to share my toys, they are mine, you made that very clear when you gave them to me and now you’re all like, “it’s nice to share”! So…share your stuff then, ah no I forget this is a one way street. I’m not allowed to touch your make up or play with your handbags and shoes (and those are just dad’s) laptops or phones because they are yours! You can see my confusion folks. Please back up on making me share, when I want to I will, until then leave me be.

SORRY. Yup a tiny little word that really doesn’t mean an awful lot to me. You keep trying to make me say it, well I have news for you, most of the time I’m not sorry, hence my reluctance to say it. If it gets you off my case and gets me the toy back that you just confiscated then sure I’ll indulge you but be warned I don’t really mean it. You start saying sorry for all the times you promise me something and don’t deliver, or when you change the goal posts half way through a project, or move something without telling me, or making me do things I don’t like. Let’s be straight here guys, if you didn’t make me share, I wouldn’t hit that kid that nicked my toy…Then I wouldn’t be standing there being forced to say sorry for taking something that is MINE!

Mum and dad I know there is a lot here for you to take in, but it’s coming from a good place, I want us all to get along, you just need to cut me some slack on some things, and on others you need to be clear, direct and stick to what you say. Am I asking too much? Set the boundaries and follow them through, it’s the only way I will learn. Don’t avoid conflict or confrontation with me, I need it. I need to know what’s negotiable and what’s not. I need to know, when you say yes or no you mean it. I hope we can all move forward in an honest and loving way.

I look forward to hearing from you both.

Love your (first) daughter

Miss Mouse xxx


Decisions Decisions



You know when you have to make a really massive decision and it feels like every brain cell and every moment in your waking (and sleeping) day is spent on deciding. Just deciding! We talk and we think and we ponder and we talk some more. Conclusions drawn and undrawn. Tears, tantrums, stern words, perspective, explanations, fear, stress, laughter, pain, purpose. You get the point….

Somehow when the FINAL decision is finally and totally made there is a true sense of relief. A weight lifted from those droopy shoulders, dark clouds pierced by the brilliant sunlight of clarity. A sense of peace pervades the corners of anxiety that have been brewing for weeks. You can breathe again, deeply, filling your lungs with pure, clean air, releasing the tension knotted up, teasing your neck muscles, gently tugging in the wee small hours of sleep deprived nights.

Then comes the wobble, you were so decisive yesterday and yet 24 hours on, how can you be so sure that you’re so sure?! Is it too late to change your mind, is it written in stone, who will you be letting down.

All encompassing, tiring, relieving and most of all in a strange way liberating. Moving forward isn’t easy, moving backwards even harder. You will never know unless you try, dip your toe in, test the water, drink it, lap it up, bathe in it. Short term sacrifice for long term happiness. We shall see.

A Week In Wales


, , , ,

Ah the perfect opportunity for some much needed R&R… Yea right! 3 days before we’re due to leave rainy Manchester Nessy Pip comes out in chickenpox, lengthy discussions about whether to come on holiday or stay at home occur. We finally decide that we would head to South Wales, take the chance and make the week as good as possible for Miss Mouse.

Making the decision to take a chickenpoxed baby on holiday seemed the least of our problems on the drive here, We had 4 vom stops with Maisy. We contemplated turning back…Several times! But she was requesting the farm (??) and cottage shop (cross between cottage and coffee shop)! We arrived at Bluestone in Pembrokeshire at around 3.15pm and you can’t get into accommodation until 4.30pm, but there is big activity centre for kids.

So we park up & the heavens open, torrential rain like you literally can not get out of the car. Entertaining Miss Mouse while trying to breastfeed & change a spotty baby in a hot over packed car was not our idea of fun! Rain stops after about 20 mins and as we’re trying to dig the pusher out from the boot Miss Mouse announces she needs a poo! We don’t get potty out in time and she’d already done it, luckily she had a nappy on! So we do a nappy change in the car & eventually are ready to head to activity centre.

We take wrong turn and it takes us ages to get there. Full of kids and total sensory over load, just the kind of place that makes Miss Mouse go a little bit mental! By time we get in there and coats off it is of course time to leave and get back to car for barrier opening. All the while we’re trying to keep Nessy Pip as concealed as possible due to the lurgee, taking it in turns to walk around outside with her! We head back to the car (maisy walking) takes forever, massive traffic queues and Gary tells me I have toilet roll sticking out my trousers. Yep that’s right! At that point I can’t see the funny side anymore and I cry! Sunnies pulled on and I just sob! It was enough, nothing else could go wrong could it?! Back at the car we can’t get the pusher back in so Gaz is at boiling point! We’re on the brink of an enormous argument, but somehow manage to hold it together, perhaps if we had not been surrounded by millions of other people who looked to be thoroughly enjoying themselves unlike us, we probably we have been filing for divorce by now.

Finally we get to the cottage and start unpacking. Miss Mouse breaks the tv but we manage to make some tea things settle a bit. Beer is opened and life feels a whole lot better, suddenly Miss Mouse shits on the floor…. of course she does! At this point I am questioning why oh why we would put ourselves through this! Swift bedtime for both babies, feet up and wine poured. TV (fixed by Gaz) turned up to drown out the begging from my not quite 2 year old, saying she now wants to go home!! After about a bottle of wine, I can start to see the funny side of things, well maybe just a little bit. Here’s hoping all of our bad luck is out of the way on the first day!

Potty Training 3 Weeks In


, ,

Three weeks ago Miss Mouse decided she was no longer going to wear nappies. At 22 months I was no where near ready for her to be removing the nappies herself but it didn’t really come as a shock either as she has ALWAYS decided when she is doing things, she self weaned from breastfeeding (except her bedtime feed) at 9 months, she dresses herself and tells me what she will be doing and when. Her key worker at nursery also to us that she likes to keep the other children in check making sure they are doing what they should be.

So reluctantly I hid away the pull ups and bought some more knickers and stocked up on disinfectant and rubber gloves. My mum really encouraged me and I respect her mother of 5 guidance but was hoping I could start the Training in the summer. Alas, no!

Our first week she was naked from the waist down and we tried to stay home as much as possible, using pull ups when we left the house. Getting her used to the feel of wee and poo. Wee was no problem and she nailed it straight away. Pooing not so much! She was really upset by the whole situation, I don’t blame her as I was just as perturbed! There was a few near misses and muchos carpet cleaning. Luckily downstairs is wooden floors but upstairs of course is where she preferred to shit is all cream carpet! Joy!

Week 2 I started with knickers on and let her keep them on for a while post pee accident so she could feel the difference between that and having a nappy on. At first, it seemed this was going to be a very long process and again I attempted to stay housebound as much as possible as much for my own sanity and to make it as easy and comfortable for mouse. By the end of the week she seemed to be good with knickers on and asking for a wee or poo when she needed one.

Week 3 and I dared to leave the house. Playgroup on Monday was a success until we got to the car and she pissed all over the (new) car mats. Tuesday there was not one accident all day and so off she went to nursery on the Wednesday with 5 changes of clothes. She returned in nursery spares and about 3 sets of nursery spares in her bag. Not a good day then. Of course I immediately started to doubt my decision and my conviction wavered!

By the end of this week it’s apparent that she can do it, but struggles when she involved in something more important. At friends house for lunch today and she totted up 3 wee’s and 1 poo on the floor. Thank sweet Jesus they had wooden floors throughout.

So tomorrow we commence week 4, spare knickers aplenty and an increased feeling of fear, not knowing where her next accident might be. Wish me luck.



, ,

Sometimes I seriously question my intention and motives for having children. Over the last 9 months or so probably more than ever. It’s no secret that Miss Mouse is a very bright little girl but with this there seems to come other problems and frustrations.

She always had a tendency to touch other children’s faces, this progressed to grabbing and scratching. As a very early walker so got to places and other children quickly and would then play well for a few moments before issuing a deathly blow to the unsuspecting, placid, minding-it’s-own-business baby. The first few times it happened I shrugged it off, thinking it was a Normal part of their growing up. I soon realised other babies weren’t doing the same! I think I almost expected them to retaliate, teaching Miss Mouse a vital lesson, that there is always someone bigger than you, this never happened.

I used to gently remind her to be gentle and then I’d get frustrated and tell her off, trying to reason with a 9/10 month old seemed to get me no where. I started researching it and as always people kept telling me it was a phase. Other mums started out polite but soon swooped in to save their children whenever Miss Mouse approached. I stopped going to play groups etc due to my embarrassment, and quite frankly didn’t see the point of putting myself through it as most times I’d end up sobbing as soon as I got home or in the car. I couldn’t understand how my beautiful, intelligent girl could become such a monster?!?

She’d thrive on picking on the weak, and no one seemed to fight back. I’d take her to soft play to try and burn some energy or aggression and she’d just bully the other kids into submission. My heart ached. Lengthy discussions were had in the evenings as a couple and some weeks she’d seem better and I’d think the phase had passed and then boom out of nowhere she’d be attacking some poor baby and looked very pleased with herself because of it.

When I fell pregnant before her first birthday I decided action was needed and we started to use the time out method, this soon became a game and she’d offer to go in time out. I would force her to say sorry when she clearly couldn’t give a damn and she gleefully continued scratching and hitting other kids. She loved getting a reaction from anyone that was watching particularly me. As I became sick and tired with pregnancy she got worse, my patience wore thin and then we had a good spell before the end of my pregnancy when it plummeted again. By this point I was near having a nervous breakdown thinking that my second baby wouldn’t survive her first night with Miss Mouse around. What had I done?? Guilt set in, shouting occurred, tempers were frayed and so I began to read every parenting book under the sun, something would provide the miracle cure. I found some great advice from attachment parenting sites and was convinced this was the way forward. Reasoning and love would overcome all evil, but was it too late to implement AP techniques, had a lost the vital time? When I should have been nurturing I was too busy sleep training and time outing?!

Sometimes it worked sometimes it didn’t, large crowds and over stimulation wiped out any loving reasoning I tried to do. Baby no 2 arrived and in fairness she was no where near as demonstrative as I expected. She really loves her little sister if only a little too heavy handed. I thought maybe the new addition may have calmed her. Nope! The last few weeks things have got progressively worse. Breastfeeding and new baby have left me tired and grumpy, unable to deal with Miss Mouses obvious frustrations. My loving parenting, talking it out techniques were leaving me drained, confused and taking my almost 2 year old daughters violent outbursts personally.

It peaked about 2 weeks ago when I physically wrestled her to change her nappy and again to get her in and out of her pusher. I snapped, couldn’t take anymore, sobbed, shouted, I needed intervention of any sort. I knew that day I had to change things or I was going to crack up or scar this child forever by losing my temper beyond control.

That night I trawled the Internet reading blogs about similar kids and feelings. I came across Janet Lansburys blog about the difference between AP and RIE (resources for infant educarers) it made sense. I’d found the missing link, I read and read for about 2 hours, making notes and trying to absorb as much as possible. It led me to Magda Gerbers site and I knew I’d stumbled on something precious. The next day I began to implement the techniques and they worked instantly, I kept looking at Gary in disbelief, I explained to him how I wanted him to talk to Miss Mouse and it worked too. My life changed that day.

It clicked, I’d lost the control to this demonstrative toddler and didn’t know how to regain it, I was taking her actions personally and had become scared of certain situations because of fear of how she’d react. A few days past and my little girl became more settled in herself, it was clear to see she was thriving and feeling secure with the boundaries that we were setting for her. Balance had been restored, I felt refreshed and fell back in love with my toddler. My achy heart felt weightless and bright. Guilt subsided and my friendship with her has been rebuilt.

I don’t want to change her feisty personality I just want to be able to manage her behaviour. It’s far from perfect, she’s a toddler, pushing boundaries is what she does but now I feel I am in control of those boundaries, they are clear and easily understood. Making life in our house bearable again.


Post Birth Bubble Burst


, ,

8 weeks in and I’m still alive and more importantly so are both of my children. This pleases me greatly for many reasons. I feel like I’ve finally popped out of the post birth bubble and I’m starting to feel human and heading towards something that vaguely resembles a routine!

It isn’t until the bubble has burst that you realise there was a bubble in the first place. It’s been a rocky 8 weeks with a lot of health issues. Nothing serious but not particularly pleasant either. After a very calm entrance into the world poor little Nessy Pip’s first few weeks of life have been fraught with illness.

I can confirm we’re on the up though. I am out of the haze of “I’ve just had a baby” and the newborn newness just isn’t quite so new anymore. I’ve gone through the doing everything for the first time with both of them and we’ve all survived (just). Miss mouse seems calmer too, compared to the average 21 month old she is still hard going and tiring but I feel I’m understanding her better. I generally feel like I’m doing not a bad job as a mama, and dare I say enjoying it!

I still look at others mums who have 2 kids and think they know I’m an amateur. I still second guess myself all the time but in comparison to first time around I am far less neurotic and paranoid. Although I’m having my moments. Basically I am giving myself a huge pat on the back here and it feels good.

Here’s to another 8 weeks of survival!


The Stork Has Landed

If you don’t want to read about me gloating about the benefits of Hypnobirthing….LOOK AWAY NOW!!!

4 days overdue and I woke up around 1am with mild surges (contractions) they continued for few hours and then went, I’d promised to take Miss Mouse to the library that day and decided that I needed to try and continue as normal as possible as going by my last labour, I had another 24 hours before things really kicked off. Tuesday carried on as normal and I spent the day indulging my 19 month old in her every desire as I knew it was quite possibly the last day that it would be just the 2 of us. Luckily her demands were easily met and she is easily amused with story books and jigsaw puzzles.

Surges reappeared around 4.30pm about 10 minutes apart, still very mild and they continued that evening and I managed to go to bed as normal. I awoke in the early hours of Wednesday morning, with stronger surges and knew today was going to be THE DAY! I tried to get back to sleep and not allow the excitement to take over as I knew it could all still be a long way off. I took a bath and listened to my Hypnobirthing script a couple of times. Hubby came downstairs and set up our living room as the birthing room. He had strict instructions about how I wanted everything and I came downstairs around 4am and got myself relatively comfy on the sofa.

Gary setting up the birthing pool, that never got used!

Gary setting up the birthing pool, that never got used!

My mum and step dad arrived around 6.30am in time for Miss Mouse waking up and my step dad took her off to nursery for the day. My Doula Tracey of PureBirth came around 7am and said she would come back after the school run with a TENS machine. She came back and got the TENS machine on me, I felt immediate relief, up until this point I’d been meditating between surges, using visualisations I’d been practising and then using my breath to get through each of the surges. I had some Hypnobirthing music on my iphone and Jason Singh’s album along with a few other songs I’ve used before for relaxation and meditation. These really helped me to switch off to whatever was going on around me.

The midwife came to the house around 9am and examined me just before 10am, I was 5 cm already and really pleased as things were going really well and I felt like I was managing things really well. I carried on in the same way and was offered another internal examination 3 hours later, we asked her if she’d wait and do one in another hours time and see where we were at. She obliged and I was extremely disappointed when she told me that I was pretty much the same. Although disappointed, I wasn’t overly surprised as things had slowed down quite considerably. The midwife suggested she leave for 2 hours and return at 4pm, to let me try and get some rest and hopefully things would have progressed by the time she returned. Off she went and hubs and I went upstairs to try and rest, both of us totally knackered from the last few nights of very little sleep. I couldn’t get comfy, and the tears started flowing, I was deep down so disappointed in myself and the situation, things were heading in the same way as my previous birth and I was panicking I’d end up in hospital being induced and drugged up.

I concluded that I just wasn’t designed to give birth and what was the point of all the Hypnobirthing training I had done for the last few months. It hadn’t helped, things were slow and surges were getting stronger. Suddenly, I felt the urge to be back downstairs where I’d been in the morning and headed off, determined to get myself settled again. I got back on the sofa, tried to lay down and had a massive surge, at that point I thought I couldn’t take any more, then another one came quite quickly after it and my waters broke. I was so pleased, it meant things were moving again. Hubs started filling the pool up, in my head I wanted to be 8cm when I got in the pool and gas and air was going to be my treat for getting to that point. My mum was helping to get me changed out of my wet clothes and I suddenly announced that I was having a pooh! Tracey asked me if I had the urge to push. My mind couldn’t compute what was happening, yes I had the urge and I knew that you needed a pooh near the end but I didn’t understand as only half an hour earlier I was 5 cm and feeling like things would never get going.

I felt a heavy weight in my pelvis and with the next surge came her head, Tracey checked that the cord wasn’t around the neck and i reached down and touched my babies head! WOW! Tracey asked me to wait until the next surge and just to breathe down, with that my bubba came out, straight through Tracey’s hands and onto the towelled floor, she was picked up by hubs, who was still trying to get hold of the midwife and fill the pool! WOW! I was hanging off my mum, in complete shock at what had just happened! And so, on the 9th January 2013, Miss Agnes Pip Sawyer was born at home at 3pm, weighing 8lb 5oz.

Agnes Pip a couple of hours after she was born, at home in my bed.

I lay down on the sofa and Tracey passed me our daughter, ah she was breathtakingly beautiful and I just couldn’t believe what had happened. So all my hard work and practice had paid off, my baby was born, calmly, drug free and in the end very quickly! I’d happily do that again! Would I recommend Hypnobirthing? Absolutely, what a difference to my first birth, no trauma, just calm and being completely in control of what happened.

Our gorgeous little Nessy Pip xxx

39 Weeks And 19 Months…


, ,

It almost seems out of freaking nowhere I am at the end of my pregnancy. Boom! 39 weeks, in a way I’m glad as it’s given me a massive kick up the arse to get organised. I was kinda putting everything off until after Christmas, which has been and gone (’twas lovely by the way) and now all excuses aside I’ve finally started to accept there will be a new baby in the house within the next 3 weeks.

Fact is I’m massive now, uncomfy, fat, swollen, moany, some would say not different to normal. I’m trying to be very positive and embrace my curves, but I get pissed off every time I try and put a pair of socks or shoes on! Having a 19 month old in tow just increases my frustration. Asking for carries and the constant tidying up is such a drain.

As I’ve started my new baby preparations I’ve got excited, a couple of friends have had babies and the smell has evoked super broodiness and I am excited to meet my little angel and watch her intently for hours on end, when she’s not really doing much at all but being a baby. Then there are the sleepless nights of hours of breastfeeding to look forward to, the inconsolable crying that makes you want to rip your hair our, the possible jealous spouse ready to strangle the newborn as soon as mummy isn’t looking. Mixed emotions would be an understatement.

I’ve been washing and cleaning like a crazy woman, finding jobs that don’t even exist! My washer hasn’t stopped for about a week and the radiators are full of teeny tiny baby clothes. Dinky nappies and maternity pads are spilling out of drawers and nipple creams bought in bulk. Hypnobirthing practice at least twice a day and lists after lists after lists after lists. I swing from moments of calm and tranquility to sheer manic panic!

Miss Mouse is probably thoroughly fed up of all the baby talk! She called me “fat” the other day…yea cheers for that! She is doing great though and now knows her alphabet and counts up to 14. She’s nailed her colours and her conversations are funny and witty. She manages to make me laugh everyday even the days when I’ve wanted to run so far away and never return, she’s reminded me why I’m putting myself through what I’m currently putting myself through. The sparkle in her eyes when she tells me she loves me, the sincerity in her hug when she cuddles me in the morning, the pride in her face when she’s done something new for the first time and that amazing smile when I go to pick her up from nursery. I’ll miss it being just her and I but must remind myself we’re giving her a sister not taking anything away from her.

Oh by the way….happy new year, may it be a good one, I know mine will be tough but tremendous, filled with beautiful memories…

Love Jodes xx

34 Weeks and 18 Months



Baby Beanz hit 34 weeks on Friday and I had a midwife appointment which went really, really well. I seen a different midwife to the one I’d seen on previous appointments and had to run through the whole wanting a home birth….AGAIN! She wanted to know why I had such a long labour with Miss Mouse and why they’d used forceps. I tried to be very upbeat about it all, if she smelled any fear, she’d jump on it and tell me I’d have to go to hospital. She checked my piss, all normal, BP perfect and my HB level from my last blood tests was perfect too. I had been a little worried it would be low as I was quite anaemic near the end of my last pregnancy and I’d started feeling a but dizzy and out of breath the last few weeks. It seems those 3 pints of Guinness per day are paying off! 😉

Up on the bed she checked baby’s heartbeat and it once again managed to bring tears to my eyes, ah that sound just makes me so happy, so healthy and strong. She quizzed me again on my previous 3 losses and said that it wasn’t normal to allow a home birth following 3 miscarriages. I smiled and explained that the twin miscarriage was different as it was caused by twin to twin transference syndrome. It gets a little tiring trying to keep defending your decisions. Everything I read or hear about is that home births are being encouraged and yet I feel like I’m really having to fight for one. They have finally made a note in my notes that we want a home birth and have made an appointment for two weeks time to visit us at home.

Good news is, baby is head down and obviously getting ready for her arrival. We seem pretty set on her name and my bump is getting VERY big. I’ve had a couple of “you’re massive” comments the last week or so and much as I appreciate I am bigger than when I am not pregnant, I really don’t need reminded by others. I am reminded every day when I try and find something that fits and is comfortable. Cheers for that!

So where the hell has the last 18 months gone? Seriously, sorting out baby clothes this week, I wept that my first bubba was wearing these teeny tiny clothes a year and half ago. How did this happen? Some days I want to press pause and keep her just the way she is and other days I could quite happily fast forward a week or so, a teething toddler will have that effect on you! Miss Mouse has just emerged from a couple of weeks of virus hell and cutting molars and she is so adorable when she is her usual cheery self. Today she’s made my giggle until my sides hurt, prancing up and down in her sunglasses, posing for daddy and I.

She’s doing great at nursery and came home with the cutest Christmas cards that she had painted, they were purchased immediately. She’s got most of her colours off and is learning new words at an incredible rate, although this backfires at times. Since last weekend she has been calling me “Jodie”, I did not go through 9 months of pregnancy and 36 hours of labour to be called “Jodie” by my daughter! As her mummy I am so blinded by her cuteness, it’s so hard to understand how I’ll love another bubba as much as I love her.

I’m still struggling with her face grabbing and scratching and she had a couple of episodes at nursery, the teacher had to have a word with me. We’re dealing with it in a similar way to them and “time out” does seem to be working, but I still think she’s so little, a lot of the time it is out of sheer frustration. It is so embarrassing though when she does it to other kids, and I spend most of the time apologising and making her apologise, or having to follow her around whenever I take her anywhere so I can intercept any potential strikes. No relaxing time for this mama when Miss Mouse is around!

I am loving the mounting excitement for Christmas and countdown to the birth, big changes are occurring with hubs and his work, a little stressful but it will all come good, it always does.

Lots of loves and thanks for reading. Xxx