A Kid Of The 80’s and Teenager Of The 90’s.

A Kid Of The 80’s and Teenager Of The 90’s.

When I was younger summer holidays meant one thing, the freedom to go out on your bike all day without your parents. We would literally wake up, get dressed and head out the door to meet all the other kids from the area. Around 1pm we would start getting hungry and rush home for a quick five minute lunch. Then we’d be off again and not be home till dinner time.


The independence we felt at 8 or 9 years old was something I can’t describe. Being the oldest of my four brothers and sisters, my Mum used to send me to the shops on my bike (which was about a twenty minute walk away from our house). We had rabbits as kids and I would be sent off to get hay, rabbit food and a selection of lunch snacks that my Mum would need. I always remember the pain of balancing hay on one side of my bike handle and a 2kg plastic bag of rabbit food on the other all the way home. The food would almost always get stuck in my bike spokes and slowly trickle out behind me all the way home. I laugh but it was great being so independent at such a young age. I think it really shaped me and helped us as children to grow up quicker than kids do nowadays.


Saying this, kids nowadays are much more grown up in ways that we weren’t. I mean some of the girls I’ve come across at thirteen, have a face of contouring to rival Kim Kardashian; it’s insane. At 13 I’d have thought contouring was a dance routine you did at the local under 15’s disco. My make up routine consisted of a dash of white natural collection eye shadow and a slick of my heather shimmer lipstick.


I feel like independence is lacking in children now-a-days. One of the factors is everything being online. Most social contact is through phones, iPads or a computer. Kids don’t have to go out to play with their friends because today you don’t even need friends, you can be friends with Bill and Ben, your online gaming buddies and never even meet them.

I don’t consider myself a Stephen Hawkins by any count, but even my Niece and Nephews who range from the ages of 3-12 are quicker on an iPhone or iPad than me. From the age of about two they could all do things I could only dream of on an iPhone.

I remember my school days where everything was paper and pencil. We had one computer in our class in first school, that we would log on to and take turns using for 20 mins every week. In middle school we used to travel to the local technology centre to have computer lessons. I mean imagine getting 30 kids on a coach to go down the road to use a computer?! Without sounding like I lived in the 1920’s, things have come such a along way in such a short period of time. Would we have learnt quicker with access to the internet at our fingertips? How did we ever live without goggle?


I appreciate times have changed. I know that a seven year old isn’t safe to go off to the park on their own anymore, like they were 30 years ago but there is that part of me that feels sad that they will never experience the summer days us 80’s children did.
Is it really that dangerous now? Was it really that much safer back then?There was still the odd weirdo around back then too. I can recall on one occasion when I was 12, me and my two friends walking to local shops and passing through a small woodland area, where we came across a man hanging around by a stream. Something seemed weird about him, he was standing right by the edge. Suddenly I think it hit us all that he had his cycling shorts down and was masturbating. The strange thing was he saw us and continued to carry on about his business like we hadn’t disturbed him!! We weren’t really scared. Apart from the appalling choice of cycling shorts, we actually found it hilarious rightly or wrongly. We walked off laughing, told our parents and the police were informed and that was that.


These things wrongly or rightly made us a bit tougher. We dealt with situations without our parents help or protection. Has the lack of independence and being wrapped in cotton wool made our so called snowflake generation? We cant argue that technology today has definitely made our children more tech savvy. I mean I was asking my 7 year old nephew about editing the other day; ….he talked me through it like he had been editing movies at Warner brothers for years. Clever little pickle.


Which takes me to teenagers of today.
As a teenager of the 90s, I became extremely independent quickly. I never wanted to be with my parents, I’d have been mortified being spotted out with them. So around the age of 14 most of my time at the weekends were spent at the local park much to my parents disgust (and mine now looking back). When I tell you I would be one of about 40 kids its no exaggeration. It was the norm to hang out on the streets before we were able to blag our way in to pubs. Normal and slightly trampy and I’m still not sure why we didn’t all just go to someone’s house, surely that would have been a lot warmer?


The plan would go, meet at the local shops and if no one had succeeded in nicking alcohol from their parents unlocked alcohol cupboard (albeit a cheap bottle of wine or some random beers that went off in 1984) we would ask passers by to buy us some. Cringe I know. Even worse still, our alcohol of choice would be a can of special brew (classy) a bottle of 20/20 or a can of white lightening. Thinking about it now gives me an automatic hangover.


Today’s teenagers just don’t live like this. Which to be honest I actually think is a good thing because getting drunk on the streets isn’t something I’d recommend to everyone. Even so, it was the whole environment of being out of the house, away from our parents, doing stuff we shouldn’t have been doing. Learning, making mistakes and just being who we were, silly teenagers.


Obviously I grew up to be a decent adult and getting drunk up the shops didn’t shape me as a person, However I still look back fondly on those memories. No cares, no responsibility and no inhibitions clearly.


I think there’s pros and cons to growing up in every era. I will never regret and always reminisce of those fun filled summers exploring in the 80s and drinking up the park with my friends in the 90s. Looking back, I’m glad I was terrible at make up, that my fashion sense was shocking and that we didn’t have the pressures of Facebook or Instagram. It makes me laugh that speaking to our crushes meant picking up a house phone to dial their house number, praying it wouldn’t be their Mum or Dad that answered.


If anything, those days and all the mistakes I was aloud to make taught me a lot. No one can tell me that riding your bike in the sunshine with your friends beats speaking to them through a machine or convincing a total stranger to buy you a can of 20/20 doesn’t make you feel on top of the world at 14 , even if you did have to deal with a hang over the next day.

A Realistic Guide To Parenting

A Realistic Guide To Parenting

Many parenting books advise us of challenges a new-born will bring.  They emphasise the delirious exhaustion it brings and the rejigging of a previously carefree life.  We are shoved into debates about breast vs formula,  sleeping rituals or how best to bond.  But once that precious newborn smell starts to fade and the nappies turn to training pants, we are left, without warning, with a small person who wants to navigate the world their way.  Sounds exciting right? Well actually, it can be really really hard and you may feel, at times, like you are going mad. The terrible twos is real, except it starts around 18 months and ends at about 4 years (if you’re lucky).  

After a ghastly nights sleep (if you can call it that) I’ve necked my coffee and have decided that there is categorically no solutions to parenting.  All children are different, the crappy times are unavoidable and therefore we may as well have a laugh about it. I’ve written my own, more realistic, guide to parenting below. 

1)      Tantrums

Tantrums have no limits. I kid you not, some tantrums were/are so out of control that I get a ringing sensation in my ears for days. Once, she threw her shoes in the road as we were walking into nursery, another time she threw her shoe at my head as I drove, and the worse was when she laid on the floor of Tesco kicking and screaming.  This was made more stressful when Brenda who was surfing the fruit aisle for some bananas decided to tut at me. Children may be small, but they put up a good fight, so come armed with supplies. I usually find a hip flask of wine and the ability to pick your child up and run quickly back to the car can help a public tantrum. Genuinely though, do not give in; let them scream it out.  Learn to play an episode of friends in your head and ignore the shrieking. Alternatively you may just go deaf which I guess can be considered a win.

2)      Users

Don’t expect unconditional love from a toddler. My children cheered when I suggested snuggling up to watch a movie together only to be told they weren’t interested when the only snack I had was fruit. They were cheering for the sweets and popcorn they assumed they would get, not me. Whilst we’re on the subject of children being users, expect to only hear you’re the ‘best mummy in the world’, after buying both a kinder egg and a magazine. You must then also expect to be told you’re the ‘worst mummy’, 6 minutes later when you won’t let them play on your phone.

3)      Bedtime

Before I had kids, I imagined bedtime to be wonderful. Me and my child sat arm in arm whilst I read them their favourite book and giggled at the funny parts. They would kiss my cheek and tell me they loved me as I left the room and they drifted off into 10 full hours of sleep. Last night, in protest of going to bed, my daughter slept under her bed. She was so pissed off that she ripped a page of her book, threw it at me and then climbed underneath. And no, I wasn’t alarmed, I was so fucking happy she was asleep I simply slid her out from the bed and tucked her in. She can fall asleep in the airing cupboard for all I care, as long as shes actually going to sleep.

4)      Bedtime Part 2  

Just a word of caution, a child’s bed is magic.  When children get into them, they suddenly remember their need to hydrate or empty their bladders. They also realise they have to tidy their room, need to say goodnight to everyone including the next door neighbour, like light, hate light, hate dark, they’re scared, they’re sad, they’re poorly, they need a poo, they need a wee, they’re going to be sick, they need to wash their hands, their eyebrows hurt, THEY NEED TO CHECK THE TINY PEICE OF FLUFF IS STILL IN THEIR SHOE. Basically, come armed with a bucket of water, install a toilet in their room and don’t expect to be out of there before midnight.

5)      Hair Brushing

If your child has long hair, you should anticipate them turning into the grim reaper if you so much as comb the tiniest knot. The other day, to test the authenticity of said reaction, I merely brushed the air next to my daughters hair she, in turn, held her head and SCREAMED ‘ow’. Fake it until you make it hey?

6)      Disappearing Socks

Children’s socks are not like adult socks. Like beds, children’s socks are magic. They can escape, hide and disappear. I once put a sock on my child and two minutes later it had runaway, never to be seen again. Another time, I wrapped a few pairs and put them in my child’s stocking but when the present was opened, they had gone. The socks had escaped. Socks will leave, you will buy more and they too, will leave. They will never match, and you will spend every day of your parenting life looking for a clean pair of socks for your child. You will eventually need to re-mortgage your property to afford the cost of new socks. Alternatively, it may be an idea to make contacts at a sock making factory.

7)      Toilet Flushing

Your children will be fascinated by flushing the loo for the first 3 times they use it and then they will never bother to flush it again.

8)      Home Décor

If you must choose a colour of carpet suitable for children, then I would suggest the colour ‘it doesn’t exist’. The best advice is to not bother with floor. Maybe you could put some newspaper down, if you’re feeling fancy, but no floor is the best bet. Same with furniture. Don’t bother getting any, before you know it will look like you had a break in, and your furniture was vandalised.

9)      Timekeeping

Astonishingly, none of the parenting books I have read have ever mentioned the fact that children are unable to understand you until you have repeated yourself 53 times.  If you ask them something the poor little soles cannot register it until you have actually lost your voice getting the message across.  If you want them to get ready for school on time, it’s worth waking them at 4am and starting the requests then, as they may have heard you by 7am. Also, all children are born with a defect that causes them to automatically slow down when you are in a rush. This again, is strangely not mentioned in parenting books.

10)   Extra Senses

They say children can see ghosts and their senses don’t just stop there.  They have all sorts of additional powers.  One is knowing what a food tastes like before trying it.  For instance, they know that a chicken dish you’ve spent an hour cooking tastes horrible, but only need to hear the word ‘ice cream’ to know it tastes amazing. Other additional senses include; hearing you eat no matter how hard you try to hide it, sudden ability to adhere to all rules if chocolate is mentioned and the instant hunger they are hit with once they are near a cake.

To summarise, parenting can be so hard and were all blagging it.  And yes, that includes tutting Brenda in the fruit aisle.

Birth? Is It Really That Bad?

Birth? Is It Really That Bad?

I spent so much of my time wanting to be pregnant that I didn’t give much thought to the experience of giving birth to my child. It was something I had heard lots of women talk about but not something I had really considered. 

The one thing I did know was that child birth was terrifying and it hurt. Actually it didn’t hurt it was like someone ripping your insides out while you were still alive (a description kindly given to me by my sister). So when I fell pregnant last year it was pretty much one of the first things I thought about once I got past the initial shock.

The first thing I did was totally suppress any thoughts of birth. I spent the first 22 weeks blissfully ignoring the fact I would potentially push something the size of a melon out of my vagina, but as time went on I decided it was probably best to face the music and arm myself with knowledge and information on how this incredibly huge life changing experience could pan out. 

I was really open to all eventualities of how this could go. Whether that be vaginal or cesarean. I didn’t have an ideal situation in my head. I didn’t know a lot but one thing I was aware of was that no birth was the same and if I focused on having one type of birth I’d probably end up having the opposite. 

Let’s be honest it couldn’t be that bad, I mean women have been giving birth for years. Some women even do it over and over again and back in the stone ages they didn’t even have drugs and hospitals! Surely I’d be OK? 

I read a lot! I read book after book after book which didn’t really make anything clearer as I still didn’t know the type of birth I would have. It did give me a better understanding of the eventualities of labour and what my body would be going through, however didn’t resolve my main question; “What does it feel like to give birth?” 

I think by week 32 anxiety set in and I started to really think about the pain factor and how I would cope, bearing in mind I was someone that would cry at the mere thought of a paper cut. 

As my due date drew closer and closer I began to dream of all the things that could go wrong.

I tried to imagine the feeling and the emotions I would feel on the day. Would I love my baby? Would I recognise him? Would he be big or small or have a funny shaped head? I watched reruns of one born every minute like they were going out of fashion. A few times Matt arrived home to me sobbing, eating ice cream on the floor, having watched a sad episode. I’m sure he thought I was a mad woman. 

About 5 days before my due date I started to get frustrated. I was adamant I would be early. I never really understood it when women said they were getting frustrated when they were overdue, but once I was in the situation I totally understood. I was ready for my little tenant to vacate the building (or my tummy) that had been his home for 9 months. I think it was probably the anticipation of being so close to your due date that makes you go crazy. You wait 9 months to get to this point (9 long months) and suddenly it becomes a reality that any day they could be with you. 

I had my first sweep around my due date and it was pretty painless and uneventful. I was told my cervix was still far back and no where near ready to go, which was soul destroying. I was furious. Did they not know it was my due date in 24hours, surely something would be happening. It started to feel like I might be pregnant forever. I imagined meeting people at 58 months pregnant, explaining that my baby just never arrived. Rolling myself around the house as I could no longer walk! 

Everyone was scared of me and disrupting the ticking time bomb I’d become. A family member made a fly away joke about him not having arrived and how funny it was and I went in to melt down mode. I was furious that anyone would find it funny. Furious, extremely hormonal and hugely overreacting, something no one would have dared say to my face at that point. 

You’ll be pleased to know that I did go in to labour, thankfully for my husband and close friends and family who had probably had enough of my constant moaning. 

I went in to labour on the 21st November at 11.30pm. My waters broke just before midnight, I paced up and down for 20 mins before calling the hospital and they told us to pop down for a quick check up. Everything moved extremely fast from that point. We were told that he had pooed inside me and by no uncertain terms was I going home but being induced immediately. I was given an epidural and then induced but within about 4 hours his heart rate dropped so much and it was plain to see he wasn’t going to be coming any time soon so a cesarean was the safest birthing option.

So there you have it, I spent most of my adult life talking about birth, listening to other people’s birthing stories and imagining the pain I would go through, to not having a single bit of pain. 

Do you know the crazy thing I didn’t even feel one contraction. Not one. 

I have to say I’ve heard other women say they felt cheated, I don’t, in fact I feel pretty happy that I didn’t have to go through a single contraction in pain. The one thing I did learn was that when you’re in the midst of labour, your whole focus just goes on getting that little person here safely. I’ve never considered myself a selfless person, but everything went out the window in those final hours before he arrived. If they had to chop off my leg to get him here I’d have done it in a heartbeat.

As they wheeled me down to theatre I remember the feeling of fear set in. I’m still not sure to this day if it was fear of what was going to happen or fear that my life was about to change forever as I entered the room. I remember looking around for Matt. I’m a fairly independent person but I needed him next to me to be able to get through this. I’ve heard women say that they wouldn’t have been able to get through birth without their partner. Not just their partner being present but the mere smell or touch of their partner giving them the strength for those final pushes and I can honestly say without sounding too soppy I’ve never needed him so much in my life. 

As they topped up my epidural I started to panic that I would feel them cutting in to me. I was petrified that the anaesthetic wouldn’t work. I asked the nurse but apparently they had already started so I didn’t need to worry. 

 The fifteen minutes I was on that table while I waited for them to pull him out felt like a life time. I could feel nothing apart from tugs and pulls as if someone was building a Lego toy inside my stomach. I distinctly remember just holding my breath and waiting to hear him cry like I’d seen on all those programmes and as soon as I heard his little cry I let go and burst in to tears. It was the most wonderful, emotional and scary thing I’d ever been through. 

So there you have it my birth story. Totally different but equally as special to all the million, billion others out there. 

I have to say on reflection, one bit of advice I would give to any pregnant women is to try and not plan your birth too much. There is no wrong or right way to give birth. You don’t know what is going to happen when you’re in the situation. Just plan to look after yourself and get your child here safely. 

Women are amazing. To think we grow and give birth to a little human is mind blowing. Every time I look at his face I can’t believe it was him in my tummy for 9 months. Although, the last few weeks of pregnancy were long sometimes, I wish I could put him back in just to have him all to myself again for a day and feel those little kicks once more. 

When Two Become Three

When Two Become Three

So many times I have heard people say they ‘don’t want their child to be an only child’. Many assume they will have more than one child if they can, myself included. When deciding on having another child the worries are commonly based around money, logistics and space. So when discussing having two children with my partner, there was understandably a lot of emphasis on the practical side, whereas the emotional side was left on the side lines, only revisiting it when I was physically living the unexpected feelings I felt after giving birth for a second time.

I was 25 when I fell pregnant with my son. It was unplanned and I had only been with his dad a short time. From the start I was sure I was going to have a girl. I pictured myself braiding my daughters hair and getting mummy and me manicures together. I would naturally navigate towards the pink and girlie products in Mothercare – cute dresses and ballet pumps made my heart explode. It was gender stereotyping on steroids. By the time I went to my twenty-week scan I had convinced myself I was carrying a girl. I excitedly laid down on the hospital bed and said I wanted to know the sex of my baby (even though I already knew). The sonographer replied to let me know the baby was lying in an awkward position so she couldn’t yet decipher its sex. But I could. Staring me directly in the face on the screen was a clearer than day outline of ‘boy bits’. I pointed it out on the screen and she looked at me delighted and confirmed that I was correct; I was having a little boy.

I was going to be a single mum, and to a BOY. How? I had never understood boys, I didn’t even talk to my own brother anymore, yet I was expected to singlehandedly raise a boy?

Five months later I became a mum to a little boy. MY little boy, Theo.

He was huge and resembled a chubby ET, but I thought he was just beautiful, all 10lb 7oz of him (yes it was a vaginal birth-lucky me). Instantly, when I held him in my arms, any consideration that I was having a girl melted away.  This was my baby. This was always supposed to be my baby.

We navigated life together as a little family. He was settled and calm and had the loveliest nature. He was so big that he outgrew his Moses basket within 5 weeks.  I couldn’t sleep if he wasn’t in the room with me and I spent countless hours just staring at him as he slept peacefully. I couldn’t believe he was mine.

Life raising Theo was relatively chilled and really happy. He started football at 3 years old and I would sit in the cold and watch him. I never would have willingly watched football (I mean, there was a time where I would’ve assumed Robin Van Persie was a famous actor) but I could watch Theo all day. Every time he scored a goal he would run over and shout to me to check I had seen. When I watched him in his school plays (usually singing – which he hated) he would look to me and I would give him a thumbs up, he would smile and sing that little bit louder. Everyday, when he would come out of preschool and run into my arms. He would even get upset if I was to I go to the shops, making me promise I wouldn’t be too long.

We regularly had movie days, just the two of us. We would make a bed in the living room out of quilts and eat snacks whilst we watched film after film. At just 3 years old he would sit snuggling me, watching each film intently and giggling with me at the silly parts. I distinctly remember taking Theo to a museum when he was about 3. We spent the whole day exploring together, laughing and joking about which animal we looked like most and enjoyed tea and cake in the café. No tantrums and no boredom, he was my little angel, literally, and I was so proud to be his mummy.

So when I then fell pregnant, I assumed it would be the same all over again but double the affection, love and jokes. Right? Plus, Theo was so excited.  He would kiss my belly every time I picked him up or dropped him off anywhere. In the evenings he’d show my bump his favourite toys and rest them on it; his idea of sharing. It was too adorable for words. I was so excited (and to be honest unaware) of what was to come.

I gave birth to Phoebe in August 2016. When I first held her in my arms, the happiness I thought I would feel was overridden by guilt. Lying here in this hospital room holding my new baby with my partner by my side felt wrong. It was as if my heart wasn’t in the room; it was happily playing at nursery instead. All I could think about was Theo. I kept asking when I could see him, counting down the minutes until Tom went to collect him. I was so excited to just give him a cuddle and introduce him to his sister.  I told myself I would be fine once he saw her and if was just natural waves of postnatal hormones.

When he turned up I was desperate to squeeze him. I held my arms out, and to my horror he refused to cuddle me. In fact, he wouldn’t even look at me.   I gave him a playful poke and he pushed my hand off.  He looked at her, expressionless, told us he didn’t want to hold her, then sat in the corner and said he wanted to go home.  Despite my efforts he refused to talk to me and eventually Tom took him home. I felt disheartened, but also considered just how overwhelming it may have been for him. I told myself once we were home it would be fine; maybe the hospital was the wrong setting for introductions.

Once home, I quickly learned that the setting was not the issue. The baby was. Theo was feeling weird and I could tell. He was desperately trying to get everybody’s attention, even if it meant being naughty and making a scene. I hated anyone commenting on his behaviour.  I wouldn’t let Tom tell him off. I would go mad if anybody didn’t respond to his questions in 0.4 seconds.  The guilt I felt was overwhelming, and it was coming out irrationally by attacking anybody who didn’t walk in and give him their undying attention. I just wanted him to be ok, to the point where I started to spoil him. I would buy him sweets if he wanted some. I would buy him little toys he saw, clothes he liked, I even bought him a pink sparkly top that was 4 sizes too big because he said he really wanted it. I was desperate to make him feel better.

He was acting out.  Our previously unbreakable bond felt more than broken, it felt like it was smashed to pieces.  I had no idea how to help him, it was like putting shattered glass back together.  I followed all the advice I could find, the most common one to pop up was to spend time alone with him. I arranged to take him to the cinema and I was optimistic that it would finally feel like old times again. But he wouldn’t even talk to me, afterwards I suggested a McDonalds. He declined and added that he thought the movie was rubbish. I felt completely defeated.

In the meantime, all this energy spent feeling guilty about Theo had started to turn into a constant feeling that everything was wrong and not as it should be. The guilt turned to unease and I started to feel like something bad was going to happen. I would wake up 3 times a night to check all the doors were locked. I had phoebe sleep in my room to check she was ok and constantly went from room to room checking they were both breathing. I started to walk everywhere rather than drive so as to prevent an accident. I was absolutely exhausted and my weight dropped lower than it had ever been.

Furthermore, all this had stopped me bonding with Phoebe. I felt like I was betraying my son by doing so and I had an eerie feeling when I looked at her, as if she wasn’t mine. The difference in my experience after having Theo to after having phoebe was a complete contrast. I started to feel like I was a bystander watching myself play house. I was in complete emotional turmoil and worried constantly that I had ruined our relationship. I felt constantly confused. My mind felt overcrowded and busy.

I’m aware now that I was experiencing severe postnatal depression. And I’m certain it was sparked by the complete lack of awareness of how much my life would change and how badly Theo would react. I was completely naive. What’s more, early on I confided in a health visitor who told me I just needed a good tramadol to calm me down. After her response, I was convinced my feelings and behaviour were all normal and I was simply overreacting.

I couldn’t go on feeling how I was so I eventually went to the doctors. She immediately prescribed me anti depressants and referred me to an online CBT programme as the wait for a therapist was lengthy. It took a lot of hard work and persistance to feel better, and as my mood improved so did Theo’s, largely because phoebe was getting older and they could sometimes play together.

Over time he settled into the role of big brother. They would play for hours, laughing (sometimes fighting). When Theo would go to his dads, Phoebe was like a lost puppy for the weekend. They really are the best of friends. Now, nearly four years down the line I can’t remember it being any other way. I tried so hard to make things ‘normal’ for Theo when she came along, completely unaware that eventually, having a sister would be his normal. Spending time alone with them is a great tip, but ultimately, it just needs time, and the understanding that it’s all temporary and no child ever grew up with PTSD from the birth of their sibling. Theo and I are also back to being as close as we were before. We have fun together, movie nights and days out still, except now with a little added bonus; his sister.

It took around a year to truly feel bonded with Phoebe. I absolutely adore her. She has the craziest character and is pretty much a miniature version of myself. I never thought it would be possible to love any child as much as I loved Theo but I am living proof that it most definitely is.

Having a second baby was nothing like I imagined and it took a lot of adjusting. Not everyone feels it’s a struggle of course, I am just sharing my experience.

Most days, after collecting Theo from preschool, he would ask me when Phoebe was ‘going back’. Every time I explained that we were her family and she needed to live with us at home. One day, when Theo asked this I replied jokingly and said we were dropping her off on the way home. He protested and said it just wouldn’t be the same without his sister.  I knew then that it was all going to be ok.

To The Girl I Used To Be

To The Girl I Used To Be

Sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed with balancing life, relationships, work and being a good Mother to my two children. Imagine trying to carry six bags full of Tesco shopping, whilst walking a tightrope and reciting the 8 times tables backwards; that’s how I feel most days.  I often think back to my younger self and compare her to who I am now. I view myself then and myself now as two entirely different people, sometimes wishing I could be more like her again even though when I was, I wasn’t too fond of her.

I remember my Mum saying to me when I was a teenager that she had a dream that she was free.  She had no ties or responsibility and the feeling was amazing and one that she had forgotten.  It stuck with me because I had no idea what she meant at the time. Now, I understand just how possible it can sometimes be to miss that freedom from responsibility.

People used to say (before children) that I was selfish…and I was, because I could be.  Don’t get me wrong, if a friend or family member needed me, I would of course be there for them, but if I wanted to do something then I did it; regardless of consequences. If my parents asked me to babysit my younger brother on the same night of a huge party, then I would be politely declining. I used to put my own needs first, sometimes to a fault. I’m not bitter about the fact I can no longer do that anymore (I couldn’t think of anything worse than gracing a nightclub until the early hours) and being a mother is my biggest achievement to date, but how do I be a good mum and partner AND look after myself at the same time? That is the bit I find difficult. And where along the way did I lose my ability to be even remotely selfish? 

The love I have for my little family is too strong to not prioritise them, I want them all to be happy first and foremost. Consequently, self-care falls by the wayside. I truly find it to be one of the most challenging parts of parenting. When is it ok to put yourself first? Are you even supposed to ever again?

I used to tell myself that I needed to be less selfish, but I always ended up making the decision that suited me best. People would pull me up on it; ‘You must think about others Hayley’, ‘It isn’t all about you,’ ‘Here she goes, talking about herself again’, were things I heard often. At the time, I was always really miffed when someone mentioned just how self-absorbed I could be.  I would instantly jump to my own defence and justify myself into continuing to put myself first. In hindsight, I’m glad I did. And if I could go back, I would tell myself that from the age of 30 I won’t be able to be selfish, so it’s worth enjoying it. A quality I used to think was my weakness I now miss and wish I still had to a degree as it is now engrained in my mind that I MUST do it all, so my selfish side, or the ability to prioritise my wellbeing, always takes a back seat.

The issue is that my brain thinks I am failing as a mum if everyone else is not happy, fed, clean and clothed; it just seems that I don’t fit into that equation. I am sometimes so focussed on making my children and partner happy; making sure their lunch is made and clothes are washed, only to realise I have no clean clothes and I forgot to make my own lunch.  

My partner works very long hours, so without hesitation I will sit up with the children if they won’t sleep, same story if they get up early, I always insist on giving up my lay in even when he hasn’t had a long shift.  Whether this is habit I do not know, but it is the only way I feel I’m doing my job properly. Just for the record, my partner asks to take over all the time and is more than willing to do his share. This issue lies with me, and the fact that ever since I became a mum, I seem to accumulate an immense amount of guilt if I accept a hand and don’t complete everything myself, even if I don’t want to. My capacity to allow others to take the reins appears to have been left in my hospital room the day I brought my son home.

Maybe the way I feel is a common feeling amongst mothers, or maybe it is a consequence of my own experiences. Either way, I do sometimes wonder if the traditional ‘man/woman’ role is more engrained in us than we are aware.  Maybe, as women, we subconsciously think it is our job alone to satisfy everyone else’s needs. The trouble is, times have changed and commonly, women now contribute financially, me included.  Despite this, there still seems to be an immense societal pressure for women to take on the majority of the household and childcare duties.  I know of at least seven other mothers who feel the same way. I know of a few who also don’t of course, but it appears to be more common than not, when talking with others mums.   I am not saying it is the fault of husbands or partners at all, and this isn’t a feminist debate, I am simply stating that I think women feel as though need to do it all and end up feeling guilty if they don’t, even when help is offered. 

I’ve previously confided to my partner about how I feel which makes him frustrated. He asks why I do not just let him take over sometimes and why I decline his help. And he is right. How can I be so stressed and in need of a helping hand, whilst insisting I’m completely fine and don’t need said helping hand? It isn’t fair on him and it isn’t fair on me. I want to say ‘yes please do it this time’, but I just can’t seem to allow myself.

A natural progression in life is to mature, and with that comes responsibility. I don’t miss living recklessly and partying in Ibiza; in fact I don’t miss that at all. What I do miss is how much I cared for me.

There are plenty of qualities I have accumulated over the years as I have grown up which I am truly thankful for. For one, I am far wiser and a lot calmer in a crisis, but the thing I miss most is the raw ability to not care what anyone thinks. I used to speak my mind, shout my opinions and not let anyone walk over me. I rejected a lot of people’s opinions and justified that I was who I was and if someone thought I was odd or had said something unkind about me then that was their issue. I laughed at myself and I laughed at the negative opinions’ others may have had of me. Now, one negative opinion can ruin my week, and I don’t know why. I am so conscious of other people since becoming a parent, and I don’t like it. 

I feel remorseful for sometimes wanting to sit in a room on my own and read a book when my little boy wants me to watch him play a game or my daughter wants to show me a new dance, and I assume this is quite a natural feeling, but it is also one I should be listening  to. You only have to look at the conflicting messages society gives to mums to understand why it can be so confusing.  

Have a break/Don’t miss the special moments. Look after and have time for yourself/ You will have plenty of time to yourself later 

I just need a little moment to myself. It’s the little moments with your children that you will remember.

 It becomes exhausting.

If I sit down and start to relax I can guarantee I will suddenly remember an article I read which told me the years ‘fly by’ and how before I know it I will be a lonely old woman sat at home crying because my children won’t come around for tea. I am then unable and completely unwilling to have a bit of time to myself. 

Usually, I’d conclude my writing with some advice. But this time I have none. Prioritising myself is a work in progress. I need to retrain my mind so that I can reach a happy medium; a bit of my younger selves’ attitude would not be a bad thing and I hope to meet that girl again soon and come to a nice compromise.

I can only speak for myself and my situation and I am utterly blessed to have my two children; I wouldn’t change it for the world. But sometimes I do miss the old me. I sometimes grieve the girl I used to be.

This article is why I named this blog ‘Who’s Looking After Mum’.  Because sometimes I wonder, who is? 

5 New Born Must Haves

5 New Born Must Haves

Becoming a Mum comes with all types of challenges and the biggest one for me was where to start when it came to purchasing all the new gadgets and equipment I would need for our new addition. I was so excited to start but as we pulled up to Bump Start (our local baby store), I started to actually feel a bit nervous. What did I actually need to buy? As a first time Mum this was new territory for me. Of course there’s the obvious pram, bottles, car seat…but what about the not so obvious bits? Should we choose a Moses Basket or a Bedside Crib? Should we buy a baby bouncer? Did we even need one yet? Everyone gives you so many recommendations, but a lot of my friends and family had not had a baby in the last two years and things change so frequently on the baby market. 

Just a tip, most stores are extremely helpful when you go shopping for new baby stuff so don’t be afraid to ask for help! John Lewis actually do a baby appointment for free. You can go in (without buying a thing) and they will talk you through everything all types of baby products on the market to help you work out what will work best for you! Such a life saver, even if you end up buying from somewhere else! 

Anyway I did a lot of research on the must haves but really struggled to find recommendations on the necessities for a new Mum and the stuff I would just be throwing away money on buying. So I decided that once I had my little boy and I had tried and tested all the things I had purchased I would write a blog around everything I thought helped me in those early weeks. Please bear in mind, this is only an opinion on what I think worked for us and our baby (this isn’t a sponsored advert). All these product recommendations are genuinely my thoughts and opinions and things we use daily. 

Shnuggle Air Bedside Crib

First of all, we decided we wanted a bedside cot instead of a Moses Basket and the reason for this was purely because at least 3 friends had said after a month or so their baby out grew the Moses basket, so I took on board that information and went straight for the bedside crib. 

After much deliberation, we decide on the Shnuggle Air Bedside Crib. The reviews were fantastic, aesthetically pleasing and it has not disappointed! It’s sturdy and was extremely easy to build even for the note so technical among us (my husband).

This bedside crib has been incredible and Otis loves sleeping in it. There has never been a transition period, he literally slept in it straight away. The main thing I love is the fact that it is right next to me, so on nights he’s moaning or isn’t settling straight away (especially at 2am), I can lean over or stretch my arm out and comfort him without having to leave my bed. Which is AMAZING! Trust me, I can’t tell you enough how much of a luxury this is when you are exhausted! 

The crib comes with a mattress and a small section underneath that you can store nappies and wipes on, which is fab to keep some organisation among all the baby products and means it doesn’t take up space elsewhere. 

The crib does retail at £199.95 but in my eyes is absolutely worth every penny, especially as it will last him till at least 6 months. If you did wish to, it’s the only bedside crib which coverts in to a stylish cot using an add on Complete Sleep System. This eases the crib-to-cot transition and providing a safe and comfortable sleeping space for your baby right up until approx 2 years old.  

Sleepyhead 

Having not purchased a Moses basket, I decided that I would need something that I could take around the house with me when we weren’t in our room. I had heard mixed reviews on the sleepyhead and at £120 my eyes watered thinking about something that was effectively just a blow up mattress! That being said, I am so so glad we did invest the money. The sleepyhead comes in two sizes 0-8 months and 9-32 months. We bought the 0-8 and again, it was something Otis loved straight away. It came everywhere with us due to its functionality, it’s a comfy spot that lets your baby sleep, rest, co-sleep, lounge, play, cuddle and enjoy tummy time.  It’s easy and light weight enough to be portable and take with you around the house or to other peoples houses and he seemed to just drop off straight away in there. 

I know some midwives are not a fan of these and I appreciate that opinion but as long as you use it safely, in other words, don’t leave them alone. The great thing is they can’t roll and the mattress is breathable and air can circulate. 

You can also buy additional covers to match your mood, room and style, which again is great for all the Mums that love that stuff like me! 

https://sleepyheadofsweden.com/collections/all-pods/products/deluxe-pod-pristine-white

Snuggle Baby bath 

This bath is incredible, from 6 weeks Otis could pretty much sit up in it even though he couldn’t support his own head yet, so it made bath time so much easier! 

There’s a foam backrest that keeps your baby comfortable and cosy. A bum bump and anti-slip surface help to secure baby, making bath time much more enjoyable. The clever shape fully supports newborn babies and allows older babies to sit up and play, while the grippy feet help to keep the bath in place.

It also looks great in my bathroom and isn’t an eyesore. It is also an absolute steal at £24.99.

Jungle gym 

This is fairly straight forward and to think I wasn’t going to buy one until later! Otis loved this from really early on. Within a few weeks I found he was more alert and awake and I loved that I could pop him on his play mat and let him look at all the shapes and colours! My sister bought the one linked as a present at my baby shower, however there are obviously many different colours and variety’s on the market. Our one actually plays music and has a keyboard at the end so he can kick his feet and set of music as he plays which he loves. 

Tommee tippee baby bottle making machine

Another controversial product and obviously one for those who are bottle feeding. I am a first time Mum but I have four nieces and nephews, so for years I used to have them over night and have experienced the pain of making a bottle and having to cool it down all while dealing with a screaming baby! I didn’t realise these even existed, so when my husband stumbled across it and recommended we buy one, I JUMPED at the chance!  

Again this cost us £130 (for the updated version) Tommee Tippee digital machine but the older versions retail at £80. The machines makes bottles in 90 seconds and the only real difference between the two are the fact the newer one is quieter and has a digital screen which seems easier to use! 

Beware Midwifes and Heath Visitors don’t seem to be huge fans of them due to reviews about pipes rusting etc but if you keep your machine clean and change the filter regularly you will be fine. 

I know I said 5 products I couldn’t have lived without, but I can’t finish without mentioning a 6th item which I bought about a week before his due date and I’m so glad I did. Although I’m not breastfeeding I was told by a friend about breast feeding pillows. 

They mentioned that when feeding your baby they can get quite heavy and uncomfortable so this allowed you to take the weight off and rest them on a pillow that helped with support. Again, he loves it and I love it and when I am tired or he can’t get comfortable, this makes life so much easier. We also use it to help him sit up after feeds for a short period of time and at £14.99, I really couldn’t do without! I got mine from Amazon, but they sell them everywhere. 

I would also recommend buying dummies just to try them. I actually wasn’t going to. I was really torn as I had read a lot about people frowning upon babies with dummies and the fact that people use them as a a first resort to stop crying. First of all it’s totally your decision, however I cannot tell you what a life saver the dummies I purchased were (we used the Mam Dummies). I know not all babies take to them, but honestly he loved them and when he just needed some comfort they have been a god send. Let’s be honest, there will come a point where we won’t want him using them but I’m sure it will all be OK; I’ve never seen a 30 year old man sucking a dummy. I also recently read a lot about how dummies can help babies with colic and wind as they act as a type of indigestion remedy when they suck! Which again has been great for us as Otis has suffered from wind a lot in the beginning. 

As I say all babies are different so some of the products recommended may not work for you. Don’t stress too much because honestly you can buy stuff once they arrive and sometimes that can be a good thing as you will have a better understanding of what your baby likes. Now he’s a little older, I’m already thinking of the next stages and the new purchases I have to make…it’s never ending. Next it will be high chairs, weaning equipment, bowls, spoons etc, although that’s a few months away yet and a whole other blog post!