Miss you so much Mum…

I love this photo of my wonderful Mum. It was taken before she was my Mum…about 3 years before I believe. She looks so happy, so cool even & so young! I know that I would have been great friends with her back then, just as we became as I grew up. We were totally on the same wavelength, we laughed at the same silly things & we shared the same opinions on so many things. This got me thinking, that we never really think of our parents as being young & carefree; glowing with the joy of youth & having hopes, dreams & ambitions. We see them as sensible, practical & older; having the answers for everything & seeming to know what to do in any situation. Then we become parents ourselves…our own youthful looks change; we worry, we’re tired & we ‘wing it’ a lot! And then realise that that’s exactly what they must have done too, but all very convincingly!

I am increasingly envious of my friends who still have their Mums in their lives. Even more so now that I’m a Mummy myself. Sometimes I just need the reassurance that only a Mum can provide: that ‘all knowing’, sound advice & unconditional love. And the time to listen & help. It breaks my heart every single day that she never got to meet Benjamin – the grandchild that she so longed to have. I know she would have been the most fantastic, fun, hands-on Granny & he would have adored her as well.

I can’t believe that it’s been three years today since she passed away. I think about her so much; often trying to second guess what she would suggest or say, but of course, will never really know for certain. It makes me realise how precious our time is with our children & try to show Benjamin how much he’s loved every day; even when he’s being a little monkey! I want to give him lots of good memories, to hopefully provide comfort when I can’t be there for him. Sounds dramatic I know, but I’m very aware that our time on this earth is so incredibly fleeting & we need our happy memories to carry us through the grief & hard times: knowing that we were loved, wanted & important to someone too.

Love & miss you so much Mum & really that you’re watching over us xx

Letters to my baby…

Today I have finally finished writing all of Jamin’s 12 letters ☺️ This has been such an emotional experience: from the moment Tim gave this book to (a newly pregnant) me during Christmas 2017, to when I was thinking about what I wanted to write in each of his letters, right up till now, when I feel a bit sad that it’s all over.

I guess losing a parent & some dear friends has made me even more acutely aware of my own mortality; so writing my thoughts, hopes & dreams for my own (now not so) tiny baby seemed so surreal & really quite daunting. I just hope that we will bring him up well enough so he can cope with anything that life throws at him & also give him lots of happy, precious memories to cherish & take comfort in when we can no longer be with him: ultimately knowing that he was long waited & prayed for & loved more than he’ll ever know 💙☺️

Now I’ve just got to remember where I put it, ready for his 16th birthday! 🤔

Such a thought-provoking book…

My First Mother’s Day Gratitude…

For the last couple of years, Mother’s Day has been hard, really hard. Especially last year, when my pregnancy hormones were surging through me & all my grief seemed even more consuming than ever. My own wonderful, beautiful Mum passed away almost three years ago & not a day goes by without me thinking about her & wishing we could chat one last time. I take much comfort in my many happy memories of her, but get more upset about all the things that she’s missed: specifically Benjamin & being his Granny, which I know she would have been over the moon about. I also know she would have been the best grandmother & I often tell him about the things she used to do or say. This year, I was determined that things would be different…this year I wasn’t going to be quite as sad; yes I still miss her more than words can say, but mainly I wanted to be thankful: thankful for being lucky enough to have had such a fantastic Mum & having such a close relationship with her, but also truly thankful that I got to celebrate being a ‘proper’ Mumma for the very first time myself, something that I’d almost given up hope on becoming. I still think it’s incredible that in my Mum’s last letter to me, (when she knew that her health was seriously deteriorating) she wrote that she knew I would be a Mumma. I just thought it was her usual optimistic self; telling me that ‘things would be okay’ as she did regularly, but maybe, deep down, in her fast-approaching ‘end of life wisdom’, she really did know? Benjamin sometimes looks just above my head & giggles or smiles: I’ve convinced myself that it’s Mum playing ‘Peek A Boo’ with him, & ask him if it’s Granny. Sometimes his bedroom smells so strongly of her in the mornings, that I’m sure she’s been watching over him while he sleeps. It certainly gives me some comfort.

So as I look at my gorgeous cards & exquisite infinity orchid & Emma Bridgewater ‘Mummy mug’, I am incredibly thankful to be Benjamin’s Mumma (he knows me so well already it seems!) His cheeky smile & laugh completely lift my mood if I’m feeling down & I have to pinch myself that this precious tiny human is mine & I couldn’t be happier about it. It’s been a great Mother’s Day…we had tea & cake at Poole Park, visited Tim’s Mum & Grandad & Benjamin charmed them both. I even got a surprise camellia plant from Grandad, as he knows I love them so much. Yes, I’ve had moments of sadness as I remembered my Mum, but I’ve tried to stay more positive this year.

I hope you have all had a fab Mother’s Day too, filled with happy times & good memories.

My infinity orchid & Emma Bridgewater mug

My cards & gifts

Benjamin ‘drinking tea’ in bed!

He had his eyes on Mumma’s cake!

Beautiful camellia from Grandad

Me & my wonderful Mum...many years ago!

So we’ve survived our first week. Just…

Wow, I don’t think I’ve felt quite this tired since Benjamin came out of hospital! Just one of the many joys of being a creaky geriatric Mumma I guess. We’ve both been waking up at 5am on the dot. Every. Single. Day. Benjamin starts his day with a large bowel movement, which I can usually hear resonating through the baby monitor & then, almost disgusted with himself, protests about it. Loudly. Tim continues to be oblivious to the boy’s grumblings & sleeps on for a good hour longer. So unfair! Mumma is surviving on vast amounts of caffeine & determination in equal measure. We also discovered this week that the Green House is unable function for 24 hours even without a kettle. After our numerous attempts to fix our trusty six & a half year old Kenwood, Tim was forced to buy a new one, for his own sanity/safety. Well there are only so many times you can wait to boil a saucepan of water for a cuppa.

Our ‘routine’ (I say this term loosely), after the initial first day teething problems, seems to work quite well: I run around like a blue bottomed fly getting myself & Jamin organised for the day, all while Tim leisurely breakfasts & showers in his usual way; only changed slightly as he now has an excitable car-share buddy on his journey to work. Where as I get a decidedly non-chatty, weary commuter on our way home. I think I messaged Tim most days, to check Benjamin was happy when he was dropped off. Every time he’s been absolutely fine: happy, smiling & apparently charming his lovely child minders by fluttering his ridiculously long eyelashes & giving them one of his dazzling smiles. I’m sure this will be the source of many a headache for me in the future *sighs* I’m also sure that if I dropped him off, he’d be completely different, as he was during his settling in sessions; giving me the face of a child who should be fronting the latest NSPCC campaign & breaking my heart in the process. We’re so lucky in that Sara (our wonderful childminder) understands my angst & sends us photographs & messages to reassure me. To be honest, it’s got me through the day.

My darling boy has changed in so many ways. He seems much older, after just one week of being apart. I always remember one of the mums at swimming saying, “they just get interesting as you go back to work!” And it’s true. And although I’m sad that I’m not with him all the time to see these milestones, I feel that I appreciate & notice them more somehow. Part of me also wonders whether these achievements (see below, except for the tooth!) would even have happened if he were still just with me. My theory is that humans are characteristically sociable creatures: we imitate those around us & ultimately want to please others, so the more people you’re with, the more you naturally develop. Well that’s what I’m telling myself, so I feel a little happier about things.

Benjamin’s milestones this week…

He can now wave & practices his new move to the other Mummies when leaving Sara’s. Such a smoothie already it seems!
His first tooth is coming through at last! * Y A Y *
He can reliably sit up for longer…tummy time is so last month Mumma!
He has the appetite of a small horse & is now eating three meals a day!
We’ve nicknamed him ‘Bamm Bamm’ (from the Flintstones) because he seems to like to whack everything with his favourite plaything: a wooden spoon! Let’s hope he’ll be a drummer?! Well maybe.
He’s happier & more sociable if that’s even possible.
His cheeky personality is really coming out & I think he’ll be a windup merchant just like his father!
I’m becoming a feeder. Rice cakes & Ella’s Kitchen Tomato & Basil Melty Sticks give about 5 minutes (at least) of peace while Mumma sorts out dinner.

Let’s hope next week is just as good…

Photos sent from Benjamin’s Childminder Sara

All Change Please…

So the next important milestone that I needed to embrace was Benjamin’s transition from his crib at the end of our bed, into the Big Boy’s Cot Bed in his OWN room. I’ve been putting it off for a few weeks now; he had a poorly tummy, then it was Christmas, the bedroom needed sorting out, the list goes on. Looking back, it was probably more my own reservations, or should I say excuses, that it hadn’t happened until Saturday. The poor boy looked like some inadequately caged animal; barely able to move, with limbs sticking out the sides of his crib: things were getting ridiculous. It made me wonder why I was feeling sad about it all (especially with his obvious need for an upgrade) & then realised that it marks then end of a comparatively short, but hugely significant chapter of Benjamin’s & my life. In the early days, I barely slept, even when he did; I needed to hear him breathing, moving, crying: just to ensure that this was all-real, that this truly wonderful miracle had actually happened (despite the very real pain I was still experiencing, in places I didn’t think possible!) & that I could keep this tiny vulnerable human alive. As weeks went by, I was able to relax a little more: I subconsciously heard the rhythmic sound of his breathing, the 2am thumb sucking or sleep talking, the occasional whimper of a bad dream; all without being fully awake. I liked the idea of being able to see him when I wanted to: if I got up in the middle of the night for a wee (on most nights!) or while I applied my moisturiser before going to sleep. Now I’m only going to be able to hear him, & whilst I’m typing this, a lump is forming again in my throat. We toyed with the idea of getting a video monitor, but we decided that it would just be another time-sink; we would both literally be glued to it, which would be no good for any of us.

It amazes me how two people can look at a situation in two very different ways. There I was feeling a bit sad & anxious about the night ahead, while Tim on the other hand was super excited; telling me all the things we can do, now that our little snuffling voyeur had been evicted; some of which I can’t type on here *blushes* although disappointingly, top of his list seems to be: being able to stretch his long legs out over the end of the bed once again (a problem that I will NEVER have at 5ft nothing!), closely followed by simply reading a book with the light on! Seriously. Oh how being parents has changed us!

The morning after the night before…

I’m pleased to say that it all went rather well. Yes, he did his usual ‘chat’ at 2am, but as always this soon passed & he quickly resumed his slumbers without me having to ‘shoosh’ him; as I sometimes find my semi-conscious self doing. I was still able to hear the dulcet tone of his breathing, which reassured me somewhat. Thankfully I didn’t need to be a Nappy Ninja & when he woke up at 6:33am (we’ll work on that for a Sunday morning!) he seemed happy & content as always. He was clearly enjoying the extra space by star-fishing upside down right in the middle of the cot, just like his Daddy does in bed!

He had a great day at his friend Albert’s christening; charming the ladies, burping his way through The Lord’s Prayer (I don’t think the Vicar heard, fortunately) then sleeping through the entire party afterwards, so didn’t actually get to play with his little mate in the end. Standard day really.

As I caught myself glancing at his empty crib before I went to bed last night, I guess I realised that I need to embrace change more positively (both in Benjamin’s life & my own), embrace the next milestone & enjoy the moment, although this is often easier to recognise after the moment has passed. Time has gone so very fast already & I know it’s never going to slow down. So onwards & upwards, there’s no going back: we’re selling his crib, so it’s permanent, well he can’t be in with us still when he’s 16 for goodness sake.

His weaning is going so much better these days & pretty much all is well in Benjamin’s world, even if his Mumma is finding it a little bit emotional. But she’s working on that, I promise.

Night night, sleep tight!

And this is how I found him in the morning!