consider this:
When walking home today i saw a sign on a tree saying that a cat had been found, and was being kept at a local house, accompanied by a contact number. Now what is the difference between people finding a cat and kidnapping a cat and keeping it in your house?
If someone had locked my cat in their house down the road and then expected me to call them and thank them, i'd be pretty annoyed.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Sunday, December 09, 2012
Eleven reasons to raise a child in Norwich
1) They will learn to stand in a dead straight single file queue to get on the bus
2) No falling over. Children in Norwich will never fall over once they have learnt to walk, as the people in front will be walking so slowly they will be forced to pay exquisite attention to every step.
3) 365 Pubs. That's an awful lot of places as a teenager to attempt to get served.
4) Living close to Carrow road and affordable Premiership football. Bonding time with daddy! (coffee with a book time for mummy!)
5) A tolerant middle classness who cope with ridiculous students on a daily basis and don't even blink. Purple, red and blue hair, unwashed clothes, the odd protest with placards declaring a right to choose what everyone else eats- all accepted!
6) Snow. Every winter without fail. Learning to fall off a sledge- integral to every childhood.
7) Jarrolds. The department store. Quality cooked breakfast, eggs cooked infront of you, unlimited coffee, and dignifed people serving you in old fashioned aprons, who seem to love their jobs!
8) The LCR. Is there a better place to meet a potential spouse than terribly drunk on £1 a pint beer, sitting on the sticky floor of the dark university night club?
9) Pedro's restaurant. Wear a sombrero AND eat dinner at the same time?!? Does life get better?
10) (I'm running out of ideas now, can you tell?) school friends with webbed feet!
11) Learning about mustard in th Colmans Mustard museum?
2) No falling over. Children in Norwich will never fall over once they have learnt to walk, as the people in front will be walking so slowly they will be forced to pay exquisite attention to every step.
3) 365 Pubs. That's an awful lot of places as a teenager to attempt to get served.
4) Living close to Carrow road and affordable Premiership football. Bonding time with daddy! (coffee with a book time for mummy!)
5) A tolerant middle classness who cope with ridiculous students on a daily basis and don't even blink. Purple, red and blue hair, unwashed clothes, the odd protest with placards declaring a right to choose what everyone else eats- all accepted!
6) Snow. Every winter without fail. Learning to fall off a sledge- integral to every childhood.
7) Jarrolds. The department store. Quality cooked breakfast, eggs cooked infront of you, unlimited coffee, and dignifed people serving you in old fashioned aprons, who seem to love their jobs!
8) The LCR. Is there a better place to meet a potential spouse than terribly drunk on £1 a pint beer, sitting on the sticky floor of the dark university night club?
9) Pedro's restaurant. Wear a sombrero AND eat dinner at the same time?!? Does life get better?
10) (I'm running out of ideas now, can you tell?) school friends with webbed feet!
11) Learning about mustard in th Colmans Mustard museum?
A potential Norwichite. However she didnt seem to like it there!
Tuesday, December 04, 2012
A baby of your creating.......
This weekend Xss, Starbucks and I went to Norwich, for a treat. We love Norwich ('A Fine City' according to the signs on the way in), Xss gets to go see the football, i get to relax in cafes and soak in the alternative environment and slower pace of life. However, Starbucks did not enjoy Norwich. That is an understatement, Starbucks HATED Norwich. Well at least she hated the travel lodge we stayed in.
Starbucks is usually the most laid back, quiet baby, happily laughing at most things and barely crying unless very hungry or very tired. By the end of this lovely relaxing trip Xss and I were the ones crying with hunger and tiredness on the way back to the station whilst she slept blissfully in her buggy.
Something weird happened to Starbucks and she broke. When we arrived we went about the bedtime routine as normal in the hotel, bathing, reading, putting to bed. But then she woke up ten minutes later and screamed for 2 hours. Eventually we all fell asleep in the bed, with Xss and I laying either side trying to soothe her and acting as human buffers to stop her rolling off the bed as she screamed. Standing up, sitting down, walking around the room, looking in the bathroom mirror, rocking, leaving her alone, none of it helped and she screamed. She then woke up all night screaming and i soothed her back to sleep rubbing her back. Then i fell asleep rubbing her back and she would cry again.
The next day she was miserable, had a rash and was lethargic. So we took her to the doctors who told us she was teething. We therefore continues to allow her to sleep, carried her everywhere (the buggy induced more screaming), and were generally very nice to her. The next night (round 2- ding ding ding) we again tried to act like normal, but simply got a repeat of the previous night. Poor Starbucks teething and in pain.
We have now returned to London, and Starbucks slept peacefully all night, the rash is going and she is happy. Its hard to determine, but perhaps she was awake at night as she had slept all day, irritable all day as she had not slept all night, and actually had a heat rash (from our over reaction to the cold weather in Norwich - is tights, trousers and then a snow suit too much?) not a teething rash. I think we created the monster. That or she really hated the travel lodge!
Starbucks is usually the most laid back, quiet baby, happily laughing at most things and barely crying unless very hungry or very tired. By the end of this lovely relaxing trip Xss and I were the ones crying with hunger and tiredness on the way back to the station whilst she slept blissfully in her buggy.
Something weird happened to Starbucks and she broke. When we arrived we went about the bedtime routine as normal in the hotel, bathing, reading, putting to bed. But then she woke up ten minutes later and screamed for 2 hours. Eventually we all fell asleep in the bed, with Xss and I laying either side trying to soothe her and acting as human buffers to stop her rolling off the bed as she screamed. Standing up, sitting down, walking around the room, looking in the bathroom mirror, rocking, leaving her alone, none of it helped and she screamed. She then woke up all night screaming and i soothed her back to sleep rubbing her back. Then i fell asleep rubbing her back and she would cry again.
The next day she was miserable, had a rash and was lethargic. So we took her to the doctors who told us she was teething. We therefore continues to allow her to sleep, carried her everywhere (the buggy induced more screaming), and were generally very nice to her. The next night (round 2- ding ding ding) we again tried to act like normal, but simply got a repeat of the previous night. Poor Starbucks teething and in pain.
We have now returned to London, and Starbucks slept peacefully all night, the rash is going and she is happy. Its hard to determine, but perhaps she was awake at night as she had slept all day, irritable all day as she had not slept all night, and actually had a heat rash (from our over reaction to the cold weather in Norwich - is tights, trousers and then a snow suit too much?) not a teething rash. I think we created the monster. That or she really hated the travel lodge!
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Most people might have read this already
The Uruyguan president lives a very normal lifestyle, as featured on the BBC today.
Although, it might not be quite as simplistic as they make out, (can anyone else see more than one 3 legged guard dog called Maneula?) the essence is there. He chooses not to live a lavish life.
My favourite quote is this:
' "I'm called 'the poorest president', but I don't feel poor. Poor people are those who only work to try to keep an expensive lifestyle, and always want more and more," he says.'
We can certainly all learn from this, especially in Britian. If being poor, is not having enough, then certainly those wanting more are poor, not those content with very little.
Although, it might not be quite as simplistic as they make out, (can anyone else see more than one 3 legged guard dog called Maneula?) the essence is there. He chooses not to live a lavish life.
My favourite quote is this:
' "I'm called 'the poorest president', but I don't feel poor. Poor people are those who only work to try to keep an expensive lifestyle, and always want more and more," he says.'
We can certainly all learn from this, especially in Britian. If being poor, is not having enough, then certainly those wanting more are poor, not those content with very little.
Tuesday, October 09, 2012
It's all in the Jeans
As i write this Starbucks talks happily from her cot, cute you might think, but it's not. The newest battle in the war on unpeace is that of the day time naps. When Starbucks was a baby she simply fell asleep when she was tired, nowdays it takes me an hour to get her to sleep, and then often i have to allow her to sleep on me for an hour, else she will wake up when i put her down and the hour of settling begins again. So my days seem to have turned into very short breaks in this when we play or i put the washing on. Three naps a day, that's 6 hours of my time, leaves me with two hours, providing all goes according to plan. Its beginning to be a lot like work, and im tired.
I might have written about this before but i believe God doesn't throw more at you than you can handle. This week i found out the latest 're-structuring' by work, means that my job will be wiped off the face of the earth in late November and i must reapply for two alternative posts i neither wanted nor liked. I actually feel like i am in mourning for this job, i loved work. I was the annoying person you met who sat there and said, 'ah yeah, i love going to work, not getting up in the morning, but once i am there i LOVE it. Pretty much everything about it.' the only thing i hated was office politics and not being respected by those higher up. Taking very naughty teenagers out to McDonald's and asking them to rethink their lives- love it. Telling parents they are being unreasonable and need to give their kid a break (despite previous misdemeanours) - love it. Attending meetings, writing reports, responding to emails, networking- love it all. Everyone i meet is interesting and has a complex story that i get to unravel and try to make straight.
But now i am looking at a future without this, and since it was pretty much an anchor for my life which has been turned upside down by my first child, a place where i could return to after this craziness has settled down and all would be normal again, where is my anchor in my life now?
On top of this, i have been trying to be very honest with my mother. I haven't written on here in a while due to all my thoughts and emotions being occupied with recent events (or non-events) in this relationship. So i sent an email, to be clear, that i did not agree with what was going on. To my absolute shock, my mum agreed, was honest and committed herself to making our relationship better. This was a curve ball to me, exciting to be moving forward, but hard to trust that 24 years of hurt can be acknowledged and us still come out civil.
So i was feeling pretty low, AND THEN.......
I fitted into my favourite jeans! Now this might seem like a minor point to many, and a ridiculous image obsessed, diet result. But the reality is, i have not fitted into my everyday clothes since mid pregnancy- and now almost a year on, I'm back in them. It's a massive step towards feeling myself again, to be able to begin to look like myself again. I've met so many people over this year, none of whom realise what i looked like pre-Starbucks, as myself. And now we are getting there. This brilliant good news countered the previous two thought busters and I'm walking around with a massive smile on my face. God knows how much you can handle, and when it gets near the limit, he'll throw you a rope.
I might have written about this before but i believe God doesn't throw more at you than you can handle. This week i found out the latest 're-structuring' by work, means that my job will be wiped off the face of the earth in late November and i must reapply for two alternative posts i neither wanted nor liked. I actually feel like i am in mourning for this job, i loved work. I was the annoying person you met who sat there and said, 'ah yeah, i love going to work, not getting up in the morning, but once i am there i LOVE it. Pretty much everything about it.' the only thing i hated was office politics and not being respected by those higher up. Taking very naughty teenagers out to McDonald's and asking them to rethink their lives- love it. Telling parents they are being unreasonable and need to give their kid a break (despite previous misdemeanours) - love it. Attending meetings, writing reports, responding to emails, networking- love it all. Everyone i meet is interesting and has a complex story that i get to unravel and try to make straight.
But now i am looking at a future without this, and since it was pretty much an anchor for my life which has been turned upside down by my first child, a place where i could return to after this craziness has settled down and all would be normal again, where is my anchor in my life now?
On top of this, i have been trying to be very honest with my mother. I haven't written on here in a while due to all my thoughts and emotions being occupied with recent events (or non-events) in this relationship. So i sent an email, to be clear, that i did not agree with what was going on. To my absolute shock, my mum agreed, was honest and committed herself to making our relationship better. This was a curve ball to me, exciting to be moving forward, but hard to trust that 24 years of hurt can be acknowledged and us still come out civil.
So i was feeling pretty low, AND THEN.......
I fitted into my favourite jeans! Now this might seem like a minor point to many, and a ridiculous image obsessed, diet result. But the reality is, i have not fitted into my everyday clothes since mid pregnancy- and now almost a year on, I'm back in them. It's a massive step towards feeling myself again, to be able to begin to look like myself again. I've met so many people over this year, none of whom realise what i looked like pre-Starbucks, as myself. And now we are getting there. This brilliant good news countered the previous two thought busters and I'm walking around with a massive smile on my face. God knows how much you can handle, and when it gets near the limit, he'll throw you a rope.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
The wedding photos
I am now a lady of luxury. So i attend a course called, 'photographing your children', hahah! well, with all this time off work it seems like a legitimate period to follow other pleasures i have (photography, sewing, baking, eating, drinking Starbucks, TV watching). In the first session of this course i think i learnt nothing. I have however taken some good (i think) photos afterwards- why? because attending a course on photography legitimises being bossy, moving things because the picture will look better (no more statements of taking 'natural life') and all in all ordering the environment you are in around to make it a better shot.
We attended Cow Girls wedding on Saturday, which was lovely, and if anyone ever 'deserved' to get married it was her. I took loads of photos, however not a single one of her, or the wedding, just over 100 of Starbucks. Here are some of the results:
We attended Cow Girls wedding on Saturday, which was lovely, and if anyone ever 'deserved' to get married it was her. I took loads of photos, however not a single one of her, or the wedding, just over 100 of Starbucks. Here are some of the results:
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Rolling with intent
Starbucks has intent. She is crying with intent, watching with intent, and rolling with intent.
Babies are not supposed to be weaned until 6 months according to the World Health Organisation (changed from the 4 months it used to be), but Starbucks is ready. How do i know this?
She cries and then stops when you give her the apple core in your hand, she chews on beans and celery given to her, she watches you drink your cup of tea and sips at the same time you do and then yesterday as i sat on the floor to play with her and eat my lunch, she rolled over the floor to my plate and began licking the edge. She then grabbed my fork, and as i wrestled this dangerous spiky metal object off of her she grabbed a large piece of lettuce with the other hand and shoved it in her mouth. She enjoyed it too!
Naughty Starbucks. Am getting a highchair on Monday so she can join us at the table and not have to steal food off my plate on the floor!
Babies are not supposed to be weaned until 6 months according to the World Health Organisation (changed from the 4 months it used to be), but Starbucks is ready. How do i know this?
She cries and then stops when you give her the apple core in your hand, she chews on beans and celery given to her, she watches you drink your cup of tea and sips at the same time you do and then yesterday as i sat on the floor to play with her and eat my lunch, she rolled over the floor to my plate and began licking the edge. She then grabbed my fork, and as i wrestled this dangerous spiky metal object off of her she grabbed a large piece of lettuce with the other hand and shoved it in her mouth. She enjoyed it too!
Naughty Starbucks. Am getting a highchair on Monday so she can join us at the table and not have to steal food off my plate on the floor!
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Starbucks goes to the cinema.....
We saw Brave, which was great as i LOVE pixar and i felt human again for a while as it was quite a classy place and i managed to do something mostly about me, not her. Starbucks woke up and avidly watched the end of the film from my lap which was nice also. It was the 'Big Scream' club which costs £1 to join for a year and then you can attend special screenings which are quieter and have the lights on low. Everyones baby cried a little as they settled to sleep at some time, but it was calm and the only thing missing was popcorn (i'll get some next time). With 4 films showing a week for mums and babies i think this might become a regular thing!
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
The mascot trail
I am a competitive person. I have now realised that my working lifestyle has previously offered opportunity for competition (how quickly can i open the stack of empty brown boxes whilst looking for the hidden bottle of water- 8 seconds), but has also kept me safe from other competitive temptations.
Ali at my mothers group (yes i now attend a mothers group- not so rock and roll as i used to be) has managed to photograph 10 (well 9 and one inflatable) Wenlock statues. Mascots of the Olympic games (Wenlock and paralympian Mandeville) have been painted uniquely and placed around London. Usually i want to try and find all the things like this (there have previously been uniquely painted phoneboxes, eggs, elephants) but have not even started as i knew that i would never be able to find a significant number without giving up all my freetime. However, now free time is in abundance. And Ali has already photographed 10, can i beat her.....
The maps of where they all are is here and i only have until the 9th of September to find them all!!!
Ali at my mothers group (yes i now attend a mothers group- not so rock and roll as i used to be) has managed to photograph 10 (well 9 and one inflatable) Wenlock statues. Mascots of the Olympic games (Wenlock and paralympian Mandeville) have been painted uniquely and placed around London. Usually i want to try and find all the things like this (there have previously been uniquely painted phoneboxes, eggs, elephants) but have not even started as i knew that i would never be able to find a significant number without giving up all my freetime. However, now free time is in abundance. And Ali has already photographed 10, can i beat her.....
The maps of where they all are is here and i only have until the 9th of September to find them all!!!
Wenlock at the tate (Ali's pic)
Mandeville near the tower of London (Ali's pic again)
Thursday, August 09, 2012
Haircutism
Does anyone else worry about farting during a haircut? What would you do, own it or be British and both politely pretend to not know the obvious?
Yet again i look like Nicky Clarke (every haircut without fail!). Pregnant Nicky Clarke.
My hairdresser thought i was pregnant. Yes, my pregnancy weight lingers, and to compound it all onto my manic-depressive self esteem, she thinks i am pregnant. On the way home, with my new haircut making my neck 5 degrees cooler (phew) and limiting the amount of hair tugging i can suffer at the ever so small, but strong hands of Starbucks, i thought i looked younger and fresher. On the tube one guy stepped aside and allowed me to get on the tube before him, nice, and once on another stood and offered me his seat, brill. I assumed that he must be foreign, probably American as this is pretty unheard of for a 20something Brit. Feeling chuffed i accepted and sat. It wasn't until i go off that i noticed it was the 'priority seat' for the disabled, elderly and yes... pregnant women'. Its hard not to be paranoid about his motive now.
The diet starts.... well no time soon as i am still breast feeding. But once I'm not, it will.
Yet again i look like Nicky Clarke (every haircut without fail!). Pregnant Nicky Clarke.
My hairdresser thought i was pregnant. Yes, my pregnancy weight lingers, and to compound it all onto my manic-depressive self esteem, she thinks i am pregnant. On the way home, with my new haircut making my neck 5 degrees cooler (phew) and limiting the amount of hair tugging i can suffer at the ever so small, but strong hands of Starbucks, i thought i looked younger and fresher. On the tube one guy stepped aside and allowed me to get on the tube before him, nice, and once on another stood and offered me his seat, brill. I assumed that he must be foreign, probably American as this is pretty unheard of for a 20something Brit. Feeling chuffed i accepted and sat. It wasn't until i go off that i noticed it was the 'priority seat' for the disabled, elderly and yes... pregnant women'. Its hard not to be paranoid about his motive now.
The diet starts.... well no time soon as i am still breast feeding. But once I'm not, it will.
Tuesday, August 07, 2012
THE pirate party
I never have party's, but since two of my goals in life are 1) throw a party and 2) dress up like a pirate then why not combine the two. Since i am now a 'stay at home mum' i had plenty of time to make pirate themed items.
Starbucks helping with the balloons
In addition to the balloons, i tied the curtains with rough rope, brought some chocolate parrots to hang against them, and tried to dress the room as grand yet Caribbean as possible.
It is obvious that i like desert much more than any other part of a meal, evidenced by pineapple and cheese on a stick (or mini sword) for starter, Jamaican Beef/Chicken/Vegetable patty, plantain and rice for main, and then..... cakes, peanut butter chocolate, chocolate moose and fruit salad for desert!
The cakes, Shark infested water with two elephants on desert Islands
The room set up for 'The pirate council meeting' in the 'Jolly Roger Inn'
Xss the Cabin boy and Starbucks the skeleton
Peanut butter creation (white chocolate, mlik chocolate and peanut butter) - deadly.
The pirate boat fruit salad. Hard to carve without a sharp knife
Great effort put in by all, Honestly dressed as 'Anne Bonnie'.
I got a murder mystery game off the Internet which was great at helping with suggestions for setting the room and food. It suggests that you eat a course of food, then listen to a quick summarising track on the CD, followed by some scripted dialogue and some scripted (or "say in your own words") questions and answers. They had some great characters to dress up as, and some BRILLIANT one liners during the read dialogue discussions, and it was a laugh, however
Thursday, July 26, 2012
My flats debutan
I don't know why but Auntie Wendys impending visit really made me feel like i was having to display my prowess as a mother and homekeeper. I don't really think Wendy minded what state anything was in, but knowing that she had been to my sister-in-laws three story west London palace, was staying with my mother-in-law in her 1950's themed tranquil flat, and had requested to see our place i was worried.
I cant help it, but it felt like my chance to put our lifestyle on display to be judged, despite not acknowledging any desire for comparison, had arrived. Our little two bedroomed, cream, affordable TV watching flat complete with planned baby was to go on display. I think i half passed. The house was wonderfully clean and tidy, the baby clean and dressed, and performed smiles on cue. However, my mother-in-law brought the lunch with her, and washed it up. Auntie Wendy was very nice about our flat, and i think she liked it without compare. I also forgot that she would have an active 3 year old with her (her son) and children offer an endless distraction from the real world, perhaps she didnt notice that i'm not orgnised enough to prepare a proper lunch (in fact the thought fills me with dread- what do real adults eat for lunch? Certainly not McDonalds, or a cheese sandwich at a push?)
However, I think i passed, i think i am adult woman (who can keep house but not arrange lunch).... but not adult enough to get rid of my tongue piercing or give up wanting to dye my hair navy blue.
Now roll on the pirate murder mystery party! No adults allowed.
I cant help it, but it felt like my chance to put our lifestyle on display to be judged, despite not acknowledging any desire for comparison, had arrived. Our little two bedroomed, cream, affordable TV watching flat complete with planned baby was to go on display. I think i half passed. The house was wonderfully clean and tidy, the baby clean and dressed, and performed smiles on cue. However, my mother-in-law brought the lunch with her, and washed it up. Auntie Wendy was very nice about our flat, and i think she liked it without compare. I also forgot that she would have an active 3 year old with her (her son) and children offer an endless distraction from the real world, perhaps she didnt notice that i'm not orgnised enough to prepare a proper lunch (in fact the thought fills me with dread- what do real adults eat for lunch? Certainly not McDonalds, or a cheese sandwich at a push?)
However, I think i passed, i think i am adult woman (who can keep house but not arrange lunch).... but not adult enough to get rid of my tongue piercing or give up wanting to dye my hair navy blue.
Now roll on the pirate murder mystery party! No adults allowed.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
One body
The bible says we are like one body, all involuntarily joined, all living breathing cells each with their own different purpose, some ugly areas, some beautiful but all equally as necessary.
Due to Starbucks slowing Xss and I's life down, we have been enjoying very lazy weekends wandering around London. This weekend we went to Maltby Street market- some might label 'the new borough market' (its not far away from borough and sells overpriced food but that is where the similarities end). It was great to wander through this reclamation yard, buy a coffee and croissant and sit on the old mismatched pews and tables enjoying the intermittent sun (well intermittent not rain). Starbucks is so laid back its almost like she isn't even with us, although occasionally she will wake up and smile at us, adding a little more joy to the day.
I love exploring London, especially near London Bridge, and i realised why. The area is 'up and coming' and developing, changing daily, and we are part of it. Living in London is a bit like being part of a body, ever evolving and growing. You can see it change before your eyes, and its crazy when you look at how some areas (again Bermondsey/London Bridge in particular) have changed over just 5 years, the people, the buildings, the feel. And we are all part of this, and it feels good.
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Tomorrow Auntie Wendy comes- look like a startled hare in the lights- it feels like my debutant into adulthood. Have cleaned the house and the baby doggedly so hope i score high. I am still a kid, but desperate to prove myself as a woman who can keep house, not just play it. Will keep you posted on how it went.
Also Starbucks has learnt to laugh. It was probably the best moment of my life. Honestly. Amazing and unbelievable.
Due to Starbucks slowing Xss and I's life down, we have been enjoying very lazy weekends wandering around London. This weekend we went to Maltby Street market- some might label 'the new borough market' (its not far away from borough and sells overpriced food but that is where the similarities end). It was great to wander through this reclamation yard, buy a coffee and croissant and sit on the old mismatched pews and tables enjoying the intermittent sun (well intermittent not rain). Starbucks is so laid back its almost like she isn't even with us, although occasionally she will wake up and smile at us, adding a little more joy to the day.
I love exploring London, especially near London Bridge, and i realised why. The area is 'up and coming' and developing, changing daily, and we are part of it. Living in London is a bit like being part of a body, ever evolving and growing. You can see it change before your eyes, and its crazy when you look at how some areas (again Bermondsey/London Bridge in particular) have changed over just 5 years, the people, the buildings, the feel. And we are all part of this, and it feels good.
--------------------------------------
Tomorrow Auntie Wendy comes- look like a startled hare in the lights- it feels like my debutant into adulthood. Have cleaned the house and the baby doggedly so hope i score high. I am still a kid, but desperate to prove myself as a woman who can keep house, not just play it. Will keep you posted on how it went.
Also Starbucks has learnt to laugh. It was probably the best moment of my life. Honestly. Amazing and unbelievable.
Wednesday, July 04, 2012
Our Baby's like puppies?
Do you regularly answer the question, 'Where is your baby?' with 'asleep in her basket?' - YES.
Is your baby so sweet that when people see you walking along the street with her they say, 'ahhhhhh' as you pass?- YES
Does a baby bite your finger when you put it in their mouth? - YES
Is the current trick you are working on, creating times when you are saying in a commanding voice to your baby, 'roll over, come on, roll over'? - YES
Do you want to give you baby a biscuit when she does something right in order to encourage her to do it again?- YES
Does your baby have a waggly tail?- NO.
In conclusion our baby is mostly like a dog, but not entirely. A cute one, that smells nice, but ultimately very puppy like. She has now mastered the roll over trick, which is not cool, as last night i spent an hour trying to get her to go to sleep on her back at 4-5am rather than doing what she wanted, which was to determinedly and continuously roll over on to her front and then begin crying once there, needing me to turn her back to keep the peace.
Its hard to reason with these little people, but why keep rolling onto your front if you don't want to be on your front? It's a mystery.
Is your baby so sweet that when people see you walking along the street with her they say, 'ahhhhhh' as you pass?- YES
Does a baby bite your finger when you put it in their mouth? - YES
Is the current trick you are working on, creating times when you are saying in a commanding voice to your baby, 'roll over, come on, roll over'? - YES
Do you want to give you baby a biscuit when she does something right in order to encourage her to do it again?- YES
Does your baby have a waggly tail?- NO.
In conclusion our baby is mostly like a dog, but not entirely. A cute one, that smells nice, but ultimately very puppy like. She has now mastered the roll over trick, which is not cool, as last night i spent an hour trying to get her to go to sleep on her back at 4-5am rather than doing what she wanted, which was to determinedly and continuously roll over on to her front and then begin crying once there, needing me to turn her back to keep the peace.
Its hard to reason with these little people, but why keep rolling onto your front if you don't want to be on your front? It's a mystery.
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
How do you know your baby is at the height of fashion?
When you turn up at a mother and babies meet up and your baby not only as the same outfit as another, but also a matching haircut!!
Ameilia and Starbucks.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Those round number birthdays
My 30th birthday is coming up. A couple of years ago i set myself some goals to achieve before i turned 30 and my life ended. I've already hit so many big ones that its the odd experience i named. I thought i'd share them with you, otherwise i'll just have to write another gushing post about how great my baby is (there is something marginally better in life than the first time you see your baby smile- when she begins cooing in earnest and with a serious focus on your face. She is amazing, it is almost overwhelming her sincere desire to tell you something and be listened to. i cant describe it. i fall more in love with her everyday). are you spewing yet??)
Things to do before i am 30:
1) Have a party - Sort of done. I arranged leaving drinks in a pub before we went travelling and most people came- this was a real challenge as i like to have strong 1:1 relationships with lots of people, not a group of friends that all know each other) See below also.2) Dress up as a pirate or something In progress
(i'm gonna have a pirate themed 30th murder mystery party)3) Spend £130 on one person In progress- any suggestions welcome (i wanted someone to feel luxurious and spoilt)4) Teach Leo a rock song (think Aerosmith) To Do. Well Leo has been in Africa all of the time so i havent seen him once. To do still.5) Sleep overnight in a hammock
- To Do- despite living on a farm on warm Brazil with hammocks for three months. Can hardly sleep in a hammock with Starbucks now days.6) Go camping with my dad- To Do. Very little time i have not been travelling or pregnant since i wrote this list.
7) Read 'Development As Freedom'; or admit I never will
- i admit i never will. Done Development is not freedom, i dont need to read a book to decide this. end of discussion.8) Make a piece of art work good enough to put up in my house
- Done. several of my photos are made into large canvas' and up around the house9) Watch 'The Notebook' with Lovely, Princess and Honestly- Done. Lovely film.
10) Conceive a baby and give it a silly name - BIG FAT DONE. And she is here! Name is also a little silly.
Friday, June 15, 2012
When i used to be sane
Before i had a baby i was adamant that i would raise my baby lovingly, but that i would also remain true to me, LE, and sane, none of this baby babble and being obsessed with this little bundle that does nothing but drain your energy. Someone with a degree of detachment, someone who can see the world for what it really is. But it pains me to admit, I've changed. I am obsessed with the baby. All i do is for Starbucks.
And interestingly it isn't because i am obsessed with her and think she is the most important person in the world, or have forgotten about the world outside our bubble. I know the real world, but what i under estimated when i was sane was the amount of time and effort you have to dedicate to raising the womb grub which has come out. I spend 24 hours a day (almost literally at times) feeding her, cleaning her, helping her get to sleep, washing things for her. If i did not accept this as my life's task at the moment, i would be ridiculously unfulfilled and depressed. As a new mum you must give in to the fact that you currently exist purely to grow this other human being. It is not a negative thing, but just so different from 'normal life'. It is hard to explain how odd it is to get some time off without Starbucks and to not really have 'anything to do' despite missing a whole busy lifestyle of things that used to be so fun and fulfilling. To decide what to do when not with Starbucks is a real challenge, as i can do things for myself (i went for a pedicure and then coffee with Honestly when MIL took her this morning), but they are really second class things to do. My primary aim in life if to grow Starbucks to independence, i have to, she is dependent on me to do this. There is no choice, so rising to the challenge you try and do it the best you can, becoming obsessed with developing her.
It's odd to have changed so much. In some ways i look forward to returning to work to be distracted from this task, but still its all about investing in this lovely baby that has no personality or defining characteristics yet. I feel like i am now an adult, (i vowed to take out my tongue piercing when this happened!) I now understand what it is to be a parent, investing all this time and effort into helping another human being in the hope that they succeed at life, only to have very little control over the most important aspects of this (their thoughts, emotions and decisions) and to be uncertain what success looks like. But that's my new life goal. Wow. Am i insane?
And interestingly it isn't because i am obsessed with her and think she is the most important person in the world, or have forgotten about the world outside our bubble. I know the real world, but what i under estimated when i was sane was the amount of time and effort you have to dedicate to raising the womb grub which has come out. I spend 24 hours a day (almost literally at times) feeding her, cleaning her, helping her get to sleep, washing things for her. If i did not accept this as my life's task at the moment, i would be ridiculously unfulfilled and depressed. As a new mum you must give in to the fact that you currently exist purely to grow this other human being. It is not a negative thing, but just so different from 'normal life'. It is hard to explain how odd it is to get some time off without Starbucks and to not really have 'anything to do' despite missing a whole busy lifestyle of things that used to be so fun and fulfilling. To decide what to do when not with Starbucks is a real challenge, as i can do things for myself (i went for a pedicure and then coffee with Honestly when MIL took her this morning), but they are really second class things to do. My primary aim in life if to grow Starbucks to independence, i have to, she is dependent on me to do this. There is no choice, so rising to the challenge you try and do it the best you can, becoming obsessed with developing her.
It's odd to have changed so much. In some ways i look forward to returning to work to be distracted from this task, but still its all about investing in this lovely baby that has no personality or defining characteristics yet. I feel like i am now an adult, (i vowed to take out my tongue piercing when this happened!) I now understand what it is to be a parent, investing all this time and effort into helping another human being in the hope that they succeed at life, only to have very little control over the most important aspects of this (their thoughts, emotions and decisions) and to be uncertain what success looks like. But that's my new life goal. Wow. Am i insane?
Can i really grow this to full size? I wasnt much good with the Bonsai tree i tried first.
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
Breasts are best, for sexiness, but what about for feeding another human being?
There are many myths and lies that surround pregnancy and motherhood. Its logical that growing a baby inside your own body is not going to be a comfortable or particularly pleasant experience so i never pined for the 'glowing' and wandering around rubbing my belly and talking to it. But i didn't realise the lies extended into early motherhood.
My newest 'beef' is breastfeeding. I think most people will agree that breast milk is best for babies, a human making milk for a little human makes sense and seems like it would be tailored better to our own breeds needs, better than cows milk for instance. However, i didn't realise that people lied about how pleasant the experience of actually getting the milk into the baby is. Breastfeeding sucks, and I'm not afraid to say, 'I hate breastfeeding'. i do. i hate it. It hurts like crazy, after a period in hospital when people kept saying i had a high pain threshold, how can this process be soo unbearable.
If it hadn't hurt so much i would have written on here about the heartfelt social awkwardness felt when a cute little human being wants to suck on your nipples: That's an uncomfortable sentence isn't it, breasts are to be put on display to make you look sexy, to be placed on the bar to get served quicker, to be paraded in little bikini's to emphasise the undulating curves of a woman's body- and now you want me to suckle something on them and in the process remove all these pre-existing functions. arhghghg.
I'm an adult, and Starbucks needs me, (and it all was initiated after a long birth when a midwife i had never seen before suddenly manhandled me into my babies mouth for 10 minutes of unpleasantries when i would have done anything anyone in a uniform told me to), so i can get over this and know that feeding her is..... essential..... and i do believe it is best. However, it really hurts.
I asked specifically at NCT classes if it hurt, and they perpetuated the lie, 'No'. It does. It hurts like glass is being sucked down your veins, like someone is sawing your nipple off with the edge of a fern. Sometimes people say I'm not doing it right, but no one can tell me what to change. So the next 'go to' answer is, 'ah well, it'll all settle down after a few months'. A few months, the baby can only go a few hours before she is crying again and the only thing to satiate her is my sore and throbbing nipple. Its enough to make you resent the little one a bit, to decipher her cries as anything other than hunger, and to some nights sob out loud while passing the floor in the dark trying to sooth the baby to sleep.
Everyone I've asked has agreed that they found it very painful at first, and each has their own story of skin hanging off nipples, raw wounds and insurmountable aversion. But they have all bizarrely persevered and are now earth mothers themselves.
I'll keep going taking a day at a time (although it all seems marginally better when the day light kicks in), trying to grow the human as best i can, but it seems impossible that she will be exclusively breastfed for six months as the books recommend. The only compliment is there appears to be no better feeling than a successful breastfeed when the baby chooses to stop drinking, leans back with a drunken milk expression and is 100% content. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, its as good as conquering the world!
My newest 'beef' is breastfeeding. I think most people will agree that breast milk is best for babies, a human making milk for a little human makes sense and seems like it would be tailored better to our own breeds needs, better than cows milk for instance. However, i didn't realise that people lied about how pleasant the experience of actually getting the milk into the baby is. Breastfeeding sucks, and I'm not afraid to say, 'I hate breastfeeding'. i do. i hate it. It hurts like crazy, after a period in hospital when people kept saying i had a high pain threshold, how can this process be soo unbearable.
If it hadn't hurt so much i would have written on here about the heartfelt social awkwardness felt when a cute little human being wants to suck on your nipples: That's an uncomfortable sentence isn't it, breasts are to be put on display to make you look sexy, to be placed on the bar to get served quicker, to be paraded in little bikini's to emphasise the undulating curves of a woman's body- and now you want me to suckle something on them and in the process remove all these pre-existing functions. arhghghg.
I'm an adult, and Starbucks needs me, (and it all was initiated after a long birth when a midwife i had never seen before suddenly manhandled me into my babies mouth for 10 minutes of unpleasantries when i would have done anything anyone in a uniform told me to), so i can get over this and know that feeding her is..... essential..... and i do believe it is best. However, it really hurts.
I asked specifically at NCT classes if it hurt, and they perpetuated the lie, 'No'. It does. It hurts like glass is being sucked down your veins, like someone is sawing your nipple off with the edge of a fern. Sometimes people say I'm not doing it right, but no one can tell me what to change. So the next 'go to' answer is, 'ah well, it'll all settle down after a few months'. A few months, the baby can only go a few hours before she is crying again and the only thing to satiate her is my sore and throbbing nipple. Its enough to make you resent the little one a bit, to decipher her cries as anything other than hunger, and to some nights sob out loud while passing the floor in the dark trying to sooth the baby to sleep.
Everyone I've asked has agreed that they found it very painful at first, and each has their own story of skin hanging off nipples, raw wounds and insurmountable aversion. But they have all bizarrely persevered and are now earth mothers themselves.
I'll keep going taking a day at a time (although it all seems marginally better when the day light kicks in), trying to grow the human as best i can, but it seems impossible that she will be exclusively breastfed for six months as the books recommend. The only compliment is there appears to be no better feeling than a successful breastfeed when the baby chooses to stop drinking, leans back with a drunken milk expression and is 100% content. This doesn't happen often, but when it does, its as good as conquering the world!
Monday, May 21, 2012
More Starbucks!!
You know you like chocolate an unhealthy amount when -
You know you like chocolate an unhealthy amount when you are peeling an orange and you think, 'ah, this smells like a chocolate orange'. (For those of your abroad this is a sphere shaped chocolate bar which is made of orange flavoured chocolate).
Friday, May 11, 2012
My favourite Starbucks quotes:
1) By the Midwife Support worker at St. Thomas' hospital; 'Some babies like pasta, and some like steak. Yours likes steak.' - Not really sure what it means but at the time it seemed to mean that Starbucks sucked very strongly when she fed.
2) By my Gramps; ' Of course she doesn't look like either of you, all babies look like Winston Churchill.' Enough said.
2) By my Gramps; ' Of course she doesn't look like either of you, all babies look like Winston Churchill.' Enough said.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
The journey thus far -
NB This is the long version of events that resulted in Starbucks arriving. For the people not bored enough to read all this- Starbucks arrived Tuesday morning at 5am following an induction as my waters had broken. After many hours of labouring she was delivered by Cesarean, and is now the cutest human being in the world.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When i started out on this pregnancy journey i vowed to be true to my non-pregnant female friends and be honest about the whole experience, but then the volume of weirdness's and complaints rose, and in order not to moan too much (not sure i succeeded) i let them begin to fall silent. There is a question over how much it is wise to let people know. If all girls grew up knowing the true picture, would the human race die out? I remember clearly when i found out from my sister that a question on the 'birth plan' was would you rather rip or be cut, in the most sensitive place ever. And there is no 'other' box on this form. You must choose from one of these painful options. Luckily as the pregnancy goes on, and the reality of the pain of childbirth dawns you realise that neither of these options matter as the pain will be nothing compared to what you are already experiencing.
So my waters broke on Saturday night 10pm, at the beginning of a boring DVD- the Ides of March- Xss's choice which i consequently got out of watching- phew. I was initially terrified and despite having spent weeks complaining about the lack of effort the baby was making to come into the world, became shakey and incredibly nervous. However, since no pain accompanied this, and my waters breaking seemed no different to wetting myself repeatedly, i calmed down pretty quick. Xss was overwhelmingly excited, which in hindsight is nice, but at the time terrifying, to see the different place to me he was coming from.
So a routine check at the hospital (being allocated the only male midwife on shift- creeping down the corridor behind him, knowing that at any moment he was going to open my notes and read the top line, 'I do not want a male midwife'. argh. Whilst i went to the bathroom Xss kindly set him straight and so for the duration of our time with him he repeatedly said sulkily, 'so i'll just do this/set this up and then go and get a FEMALE colleague'. Yep too right you will. sorry sunny Jim. He was not understanding. Next time perhaps i wont care, but first time round, you want to maintain your dignity as long as possible.
Following this exam, they decided to keep me in since Starbucks' head was not engaged and her chord could get caught beneath her and cut off her supplies. Thus started my 24 hour hotel style stay; if it was a hotel with 6 strangers sharing a room, free BP and temperature checks at 6am, and the potential for the biggest journey of your life to begin (the best and worst journey) without your husband . This is when i learnt my first lesson from God, fully rely on God, first and foremost: Before anyone else. All through this process i had focused on Xss being there with me, helping me through, encouraging me and feeling that everything would be ok, if only he is there. Well, he wasn't there. Sent home by the ward nurses at 1am shortly after i was admitted, i had no-one. Being a Christian i knew God would be with me, and as my friend True reminded me, 'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me'. But could I. Well, it was a tough time, until i came to the reality that i could rely on God foremost, he would definitely be with me at all times, and then i could use Xss as back up. He only has human skills- the ability to get me comfort food, wipe my hair from my forehead, say things that inspire me, but in my opinion God can do SOOOO much more- heal, perform miracles (hopefully none would be needed) and impart wisdom. This higher ability acknowledged my night went well and i calmed down a lot.
So following 24 hours of nothingness they induced me. You are not in labour until you are 3cm dilated and having contractions. So really you want to arrive at the hospital and have a pleasant surprise of the midwife stating you are more than 3cm. Starting from scratch was going to be hard, but i was excited about seeing what my body could do. I even pre-considered getting a victory t-shirt made up that said, 'i can dilate 10cm's can you?' I mean isn't that an achievement in itself! touch your nose with your tongue? Nah i can dilate 10cms.
Well, at first check (after 4 hours of contractions started by a continuous drip in my arm) i was........1 cm. 1! 1! argh. Next check 4 hours later - 3cm- progress, slow but getting somewhere. 4 hours later (after having gone down the epidural route, which takes the pain away but leaves you in some uncomfortable surreal hell) i was STILL 3cms. Not funny.
I thought I'd up the pain relief whenever necessary, and lasted 4 hours on paracetamol and TENS machine only, until the pain of the TENS machine got too much and then i needed gas and air to take the edge off of it (i jest not).Moving on to gas and air, which is admittedly fun, but makes you feel drunk. And being very British this reduced my speaking and communicating vastly as i feared I'd come out with some 'drunken' comment like 'i really love you, your lovely, can we be best friends?' - to my midwife who was lovely and really could have been my friend if i met her in different circumstances.
It was great fun being in labour- really. I felt like i was doing something, fighting a good fight. And as people know, i am very competitive so it was fun to push myself and see what i could really cope with. experince what my body could do. Not so much it turns out, as i was asking for an epidural after only 5 hours. The midwife and Xss said i had been really brave and that felt great :) - no sticker though :(
So to end the story, at the next 4 hour check. Now heavily drugged up, i was 5cms!! This was not enough apparently, and the doctor decided on a Cesarean. Did i want one? Who cares, it was happening, and Starbucks didn't appear to be coming out any other way any time soon. I could only spend so long stuck in a dull room with a painful drip in my hand (so inconvenient i named it Boris), constantly awake and on various monitors, in a medium amount of pain.
So she was born.
Starbucks' first breath. And thankfully for me no ripping or being cut in private areas. Small mercies.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
When i started out on this pregnancy journey i vowed to be true to my non-pregnant female friends and be honest about the whole experience, but then the volume of weirdness's and complaints rose, and in order not to moan too much (not sure i succeeded) i let them begin to fall silent. There is a question over how much it is wise to let people know. If all girls grew up knowing the true picture, would the human race die out? I remember clearly when i found out from my sister that a question on the 'birth plan' was would you rather rip or be cut, in the most sensitive place ever. And there is no 'other' box on this form. You must choose from one of these painful options. Luckily as the pregnancy goes on, and the reality of the pain of childbirth dawns you realise that neither of these options matter as the pain will be nothing compared to what you are already experiencing.
So my waters broke on Saturday night 10pm, at the beginning of a boring DVD- the Ides of March- Xss's choice which i consequently got out of watching- phew. I was initially terrified and despite having spent weeks complaining about the lack of effort the baby was making to come into the world, became shakey and incredibly nervous. However, since no pain accompanied this, and my waters breaking seemed no different to wetting myself repeatedly, i calmed down pretty quick. Xss was overwhelmingly excited, which in hindsight is nice, but at the time terrifying, to see the different place to me he was coming from.
So a routine check at the hospital (being allocated the only male midwife on shift- creeping down the corridor behind him, knowing that at any moment he was going to open my notes and read the top line, 'I do not want a male midwife'. argh. Whilst i went to the bathroom Xss kindly set him straight and so for the duration of our time with him he repeatedly said sulkily, 'so i'll just do this/set this up and then go and get a FEMALE colleague'. Yep too right you will. sorry sunny Jim. He was not understanding. Next time perhaps i wont care, but first time round, you want to maintain your dignity as long as possible.
Following this exam, they decided to keep me in since Starbucks' head was not engaged and her chord could get caught beneath her and cut off her supplies. Thus started my 24 hour hotel style stay; if it was a hotel with 6 strangers sharing a room, free BP and temperature checks at 6am, and the potential for the biggest journey of your life to begin (the best and worst journey) without your husband . This is when i learnt my first lesson from God, fully rely on God, first and foremost: Before anyone else. All through this process i had focused on Xss being there with me, helping me through, encouraging me and feeling that everything would be ok, if only he is there. Well, he wasn't there. Sent home by the ward nurses at 1am shortly after i was admitted, i had no-one. Being a Christian i knew God would be with me, and as my friend True reminded me, 'I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me'. But could I. Well, it was a tough time, until i came to the reality that i could rely on God foremost, he would definitely be with me at all times, and then i could use Xss as back up. He only has human skills- the ability to get me comfort food, wipe my hair from my forehead, say things that inspire me, but in my opinion God can do SOOOO much more- heal, perform miracles (hopefully none would be needed) and impart wisdom. This higher ability acknowledged my night went well and i calmed down a lot.
So following 24 hours of nothingness they induced me. You are not in labour until you are 3cm dilated and having contractions. So really you want to arrive at the hospital and have a pleasant surprise of the midwife stating you are more than 3cm. Starting from scratch was going to be hard, but i was excited about seeing what my body could do. I even pre-considered getting a victory t-shirt made up that said, 'i can dilate 10cm's can you?' I mean isn't that an achievement in itself! touch your nose with your tongue? Nah i can dilate 10cms.
Well, at first check (after 4 hours of contractions started by a continuous drip in my arm) i was........1 cm. 1! 1! argh. Next check 4 hours later - 3cm- progress, slow but getting somewhere. 4 hours later (after having gone down the epidural route, which takes the pain away but leaves you in some uncomfortable surreal hell) i was STILL 3cms. Not funny.
I thought I'd up the pain relief whenever necessary, and lasted 4 hours on paracetamol and TENS machine only, until the pain of the TENS machine got too much and then i needed gas and air to take the edge off of it (i jest not).Moving on to gas and air, which is admittedly fun, but makes you feel drunk. And being very British this reduced my speaking and communicating vastly as i feared I'd come out with some 'drunken' comment like 'i really love you, your lovely, can we be best friends?' - to my midwife who was lovely and really could have been my friend if i met her in different circumstances.
It was great fun being in labour- really. I felt like i was doing something, fighting a good fight. And as people know, i am very competitive so it was fun to push myself and see what i could really cope with. experince what my body could do. Not so much it turns out, as i was asking for an epidural after only 5 hours. The midwife and Xss said i had been really brave and that felt great :) - no sticker though :(
So to end the story, at the next 4 hour check. Now heavily drugged up, i was 5cms!! This was not enough apparently, and the doctor decided on a Cesarean. Did i want one? Who cares, it was happening, and Starbucks didn't appear to be coming out any other way any time soon. I could only spend so long stuck in a dull room with a painful drip in my hand (so inconvenient i named it Boris), constantly awake and on various monitors, in a medium amount of pain.
So she was born.
Monday, May 07, 2012
Starbucks.
We went on our first outing since coming out of hospital. Guess where we took Starbucks? Starbucks.
Not sure she even noticed we were there, let alone that due to a lack of space someone had used her head as a table.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Starbucks makes an appearance!
The baby came. She really did. There is no way she really came out of me, but there is a small human we have been allowed to take home, and she is dead cute, and no-one has realised their mistake and come running after us.
So without further ado, here she is.
She also has really soft hair, and smells great. A bit like the plastic food you had as a child in your mini kitchen, which had fake food smell on it. (I can clearly picture the cherry pie slice).
More info when i have more time, made several revelations during the duration of my hospital stay (Sat night to Thus lunch time), including that if you do a silent fart whilst hooked up to a baby heartbeat monitor, the monitor makes the fart noise instead! Quite embarrassing when you are not in labour and trying to be normal.
So without further ado, here she is.
Complete with facial scratches from the first night in the world of finger nails.
She's learnt a karate defence pose already, needing to fight off all the parental attention and touching.
None of these photos really reflect what she actually looks like, and how cute she really is.
None of these photos really reflect what she actually looks like, and how cute she really is.
She also has really soft hair, and smells great. A bit like the plastic food you had as a child in your mini kitchen, which had fake food smell on it. (I can clearly picture the cherry pie slice).
More info when i have more time, made several revelations during the duration of my hospital stay (Sat night to Thus lunch time), including that if you do a silent fart whilst hooked up to a baby heartbeat monitor, the monitor makes the fart noise instead! Quite embarrassing when you are not in labour and trying to be normal.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Missing the craic
I've been away from work for 3 weeks, and i admit it, i miss the teenagers. I really do. I also miss regularly being involved in conversations which stump me, and render me silent for a while, generally rending me quite for a week, until i come back at the next session and begin with, 'I've been thinking about what you said last week and.....'
Here are some of my most recent conversation dead-ends:
Kid A (16, a big MDMA drug user): 'I've decided not to drink on New Years because it affects the drugs i take and i don't like it'
Me: 'Brilliant. Not mixing substances is a great step forward, so its just the MDMA on new years!'
Kid A: 'erm, No. We've ordered MDMA, Ketamine and Acid.'
Me: .............
Kid C (13): 'I bought a knife to school today to stab Jade'
Me: 'If you say radical things like that i have to take them seriously, and i don't think you really are going to stab Jade, are you?'
Kid C: 'No. [thinks for a minute]. I'm going to stab my mum'
Me: ...............
Me: Today we are going to talk about contraception as I'm worried your going to get pregnant.'
Girl C (13): ' I'm not interested. I've got a 19 year old boyfriend and we are trying for a baby'.
Me:' well, the baby will wake you up all the time at night, dont you like sleeping?'
Girl C: 'It wont wake me up as i'll be awake gazing at it sleeping'
Me:...........
Mother: 'Tell me, at what age can i give up [parenting her kids]? 16? 18?'
Me: 'Well, some people would say you can never give up on your kids, you will always be their parent. They are your children for life'
Mother: [in all earnestness] 'Nobody told me this!'
Kid K (12): 'I like school, i get good grades and want to go to Harvard'
Me: 'Wow, thats going to be a tough thing to do. But aim high. What do you want to study at university?'
Kid K: ' singing or cooking'
and a great example from my colleague Spinsters session:
Kid A: ' Mum is always calling me names, and putting me down like calling me a prostitute etc'
Spinster: 'Mum is this true?'
Mum: 'well she did it first'.
Spinster: ............
Here are some of my most recent conversation dead-ends:
Kid A (16, a big MDMA drug user): 'I've decided not to drink on New Years because it affects the drugs i take and i don't like it'
Me: 'Brilliant. Not mixing substances is a great step forward, so its just the MDMA on new years!'
Kid A: 'erm, No. We've ordered MDMA, Ketamine and Acid.'
Me: .............
Kid C (13): 'I bought a knife to school today to stab Jade'
Me: 'If you say radical things like that i have to take them seriously, and i don't think you really are going to stab Jade, are you?'
Kid C: 'No. [thinks for a minute]. I'm going to stab my mum'
Me: ...............
Me: Today we are going to talk about contraception as I'm worried your going to get pregnant.'
Girl C (13): ' I'm not interested. I've got a 19 year old boyfriend and we are trying for a baby'.
Me:' well, the baby will wake you up all the time at night, dont you like sleeping?'
Girl C: 'It wont wake me up as i'll be awake gazing at it sleeping'
Me:...........
Mother: 'Tell me, at what age can i give up [parenting her kids]? 16? 18?'
Me: 'Well, some people would say you can never give up on your kids, you will always be their parent. They are your children for life'
Mother: [in all earnestness] 'Nobody told me this!'
Kid K (12): 'I like school, i get good grades and want to go to Harvard'
Me: 'Wow, thats going to be a tough thing to do. But aim high. What do you want to study at university?'
Kid K: ' singing or cooking'
and a great example from my colleague Spinsters session:
Kid A: ' Mum is always calling me names, and putting me down like calling me a prostitute etc'
Spinster: 'Mum is this true?'
Mum: 'well she did it first'.
Spinster: ............
Friday, April 06, 2012
The Waiting
I am now officially waiting. I can pretend i am sorting the house out, painting a mural, meeting friends for coffee/lunch etc, but really these are all pretexts for waiting. When will this baby come.....? No way to hurry her up and no way of knowing when it will be. Here's a photo of my unbelievably big belly. When i walk down the street it looks comedic like i have a pillow stuffed down there.
Its a surreal time. Seems very recently that i took a pregnancy test 'for a laugh' (i didn't feel pregnant and the test was out of date) and it turned out to be positive. This is what i looked like then......
Luckily it wasn't twins.
Its a surreal time. Seems very recently that i took a pregnancy test 'for a laugh' (i didn't feel pregnant and the test was out of date) and it turned out to be positive. This is what i looked like then......
Luckily it wasn't twins.Wednesday, March 21, 2012
No more routine
I finished work! I am unashamedly smug about it. I've been back less than a year from travelling, and i am off again for another year! Since i don't yet have a baby and can't really comprehend what it might be like to have a small baby dominating my life, it seems a bit of a cheat. I've got a year off with nothing to do......... haha.
It couldn't come soon enough, and for an unusual reason for me. I think mostly because i am pregnant and feeling protective over Starbucks (but could also be because i am a rational human being) i was glad that i no longer have to visit Peck'narm everyday. Sometimes its great to work in one of the worst places in London, at least you get the really gritty tough cases. But then the weekend before last, a 30 year old women got shot when she was caught in a gun fight between two adult male gang members. My go to with this is well, its highly unlikely to be me. However, if this wasn't a Sunday, it could well have been me. She was my age, on a street I walk down most days, and at a time when i might well have been there (5:15pm). We know there are large gang problems in Peckham, but it usually remains contained to them hurting each other, which while not great, neatly confines the problem.
On top of this on the day i finished the whole office was allowed to go home early. Orders were to make sure we were all well out of the building at 5pm and away from Peck'narm as the previous night a gang fight had erupted on the derelict land outside our office doors and they were concerned that people were already cumulating for another night of trouble. We only get to leave an hour early once a year, on New Years Eve, if we are very well behaved. So for our employer to consider it serious enough to send the whole office home had me worried. Its one thing to hurt each other, another to be hurting others who are simply walking by (there's no back gate to the office).
I think i am also simply disappointed that since we have seen less and less gang kids recently in our service, i thought we might be winning in combating the stupid dynamics of the 'gangs' of south London. [Isn't that why the government have stopped funding gangs disruption work after only two years of funding.]
In good news though, there are so many beautiful tree's out in bloom shouting out 'SPRING' in spectacular style around London. Often on a urban backdrop of brick and dereliction on the estates, that the contrast makes them even more stunning. I'll upload some here soon.
It couldn't come soon enough, and for an unusual reason for me. I think mostly because i am pregnant and feeling protective over Starbucks (but could also be because i am a rational human being) i was glad that i no longer have to visit Peck'narm everyday. Sometimes its great to work in one of the worst places in London, at least you get the really gritty tough cases. But then the weekend before last, a 30 year old women got shot when she was caught in a gun fight between two adult male gang members. My go to with this is well, its highly unlikely to be me. However, if this wasn't a Sunday, it could well have been me. She was my age, on a street I walk down most days, and at a time when i might well have been there (5:15pm). We know there are large gang problems in Peckham, but it usually remains contained to them hurting each other, which while not great, neatly confines the problem.
On top of this on the day i finished the whole office was allowed to go home early. Orders were to make sure we were all well out of the building at 5pm and away from Peck'narm as the previous night a gang fight had erupted on the derelict land outside our office doors and they were concerned that people were already cumulating for another night of trouble. We only get to leave an hour early once a year, on New Years Eve, if we are very well behaved. So for our employer to consider it serious enough to send the whole office home had me worried. Its one thing to hurt each other, another to be hurting others who are simply walking by (there's no back gate to the office).
I think i am also simply disappointed that since we have seen less and less gang kids recently in our service, i thought we might be winning in combating the stupid dynamics of the 'gangs' of south London. [Isn't that why the government have stopped funding gangs disruption work after only two years of funding.]
In good news though, there are so many beautiful tree's out in bloom shouting out 'SPRING' in spectacular style around London. Often on a urban backdrop of brick and dereliction on the estates, that the contrast makes them even more stunning. I'll upload some here soon.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
35 weeks....
8 months of pregnancy and i have perfected the hic-burp loud enough for a 5 meter perimiter to hear!
Monday, March 12, 2012
A badge that i'm not sure i want to wear
The sun is glaring in through the window.
The heating is still on full tilt in our office.
And i am ridiculously hot.
So i went out to lunch in just my t-shirt. This was a new experience for me, out there, with my pregnant belly protruding out front, no hiding it, no mistaking it for fat. There is a baby being pushed along in front of me.
I felt oddly uncomfortable with this situation, like i was wearing a t-shirt with a slogan on that i was not convinced that i agreed with. Wandering along putting a message out there when no message was intended. Does this mean i am not proud of being pregnant- yes. Am i proud of my baby? well, no she's not done anything yet. I think that some people feel it is an achievement to be pregnant, and i oppose this. strongly. There is nothing clever, admirable or noble about getting pregnant, it just takes some unprotected sex, you don't even have to be attracted to the other person. Is it weird that this puts me off being pregnant and proud? But i don't want to be wrongly construed and labelled, perhaps if i've done a good job of motherhood then i'd like some approving glances, but for growing a grub, no.
i think too much.
The heating is still on full tilt in our office.
And i am ridiculously hot.
So i went out to lunch in just my t-shirt. This was a new experience for me, out there, with my pregnant belly protruding out front, no hiding it, no mistaking it for fat. There is a baby being pushed along in front of me.
I felt oddly uncomfortable with this situation, like i was wearing a t-shirt with a slogan on that i was not convinced that i agreed with. Wandering along putting a message out there when no message was intended. Does this mean i am not proud of being pregnant- yes. Am i proud of my baby? well, no she's not done anything yet. I think that some people feel it is an achievement to be pregnant, and i oppose this. strongly. There is nothing clever, admirable or noble about getting pregnant, it just takes some unprotected sex, you don't even have to be attracted to the other person. Is it weird that this puts me off being pregnant and proud? But i don't want to be wrongly construed and labelled, perhaps if i've done a good job of motherhood then i'd like some approving glances, but for growing a grub, no.
i think too much.
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
How i know i've 'made it' in social services.......
There was a time when i considered how I'd know when I'd made it in the world of social work?
I came up with a few things- one was if i managed to convince a client to go to Starbucks with me, and i could then reclaim it on expenses, and this might be the closest I'd ever get to a BONUS. We regularly take our teenagers to McDonald's, or such like, in order to find a neutral environment to talk with them, somewhere they feel comfortable and able to verbalise what they are thinking freely without fear of being cut down midstream. This works really well, and i do enjoy a Big Mac, but what i really love is a Starbucks. This is a massive challenge as the culture change from McDonald's to Starbucks is gigantic. Almost 100% of my clients could not 'afford' Starbucks, do not live near one and kids don't drink coffee. So imagine my delight when i have managed to find one older, teenager who does like coffee and chose to meet me at Starbucks for our first session!! score. We have continued in this thread ever since and i love it. I go to work in Starbucks. If I'm feeling indulgent I'll also have a muffin (apple and cinnamon!)
Another previous massive achievement in my books was getting a card from a client. It simply said 'Thanks' but it means a lot to me, and has been posted above my desk for the years since. That's right, over the 4.5 years i have worked here, I've received 1 card. One. So the reason i think this one is so epic is that its so hard to get people in crisis, who don't agree with what you are saying, and generally don't want to work with you, to understand that in fact, yes, you are a human too. I don't want them to get this too much, to know about me so much that they worry or see me as limited and faulted, but enough to realise that perhaps i think about them and have other emotions that i don't display to them.
So now I've made it. Today a client (parent type) came to see me in the office. Not only did she bring me a present, but also a card. I'm much more emotional now i am pregnant, so i nearly cried. She got the baby a baby grow, vest and hat. She not only knows i am human, but knows my baby will be too. I am so so very grateful to this lady, I'd love to break all protocol and reach out to her in so many ways. But this would not be helpful to her, so i wont. She doesn't need to know I'm worried and vulnerable too.
But I'm smug. I've made it. If only this was a way that they measured good workers, rather than how often you fill in forms and if they are done by a certain time frame. By the quality of relationships you manage to create with clients, even those that you have to give bad news and disagree with.
I came up with a few things- one was if i managed to convince a client to go to Starbucks with me, and i could then reclaim it on expenses, and this might be the closest I'd ever get to a BONUS. We regularly take our teenagers to McDonald's, or such like, in order to find a neutral environment to talk with them, somewhere they feel comfortable and able to verbalise what they are thinking freely without fear of being cut down midstream. This works really well, and i do enjoy a Big Mac, but what i really love is a Starbucks. This is a massive challenge as the culture change from McDonald's to Starbucks is gigantic. Almost 100% of my clients could not 'afford' Starbucks, do not live near one and kids don't drink coffee. So imagine my delight when i have managed to find one older, teenager who does like coffee and chose to meet me at Starbucks for our first session!! score. We have continued in this thread ever since and i love it. I go to work in Starbucks. If I'm feeling indulgent I'll also have a muffin (apple and cinnamon!)
Another previous massive achievement in my books was getting a card from a client. It simply said 'Thanks' but it means a lot to me, and has been posted above my desk for the years since. That's right, over the 4.5 years i have worked here, I've received 1 card. One. So the reason i think this one is so epic is that its so hard to get people in crisis, who don't agree with what you are saying, and generally don't want to work with you, to understand that in fact, yes, you are a human too. I don't want them to get this too much, to know about me so much that they worry or see me as limited and faulted, but enough to realise that perhaps i think about them and have other emotions that i don't display to them.
So now I've made it. Today a client (parent type) came to see me in the office. Not only did she bring me a present, but also a card. I'm much more emotional now i am pregnant, so i nearly cried. She got the baby a baby grow, vest and hat. She not only knows i am human, but knows my baby will be too. I am so so very grateful to this lady, I'd love to break all protocol and reach out to her in so many ways. But this would not be helpful to her, so i wont. She doesn't need to know I'm worried and vulnerable too.
But I'm smug. I've made it. If only this was a way that they measured good workers, rather than how often you fill in forms and if they are done by a certain time frame. By the quality of relationships you manage to create with clients, even those that you have to give bad news and disagree with.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Pregnant Women Q&A's
Why do pregnant women always rub their belly's?
This idyllic image is nothing to do with bonding with the baby beneath. No. Really its because stretching skin is itchy and uncomfortable. And especially in my situation, the baby will sometimes stick something out through your belly in a bid to permanently enlarge their room. It is therefore a normal reaction to reach down to this spot and by rubbing try to convince the baby to change position. However this doesn't always work, and if your baby is anything like Starbucks they'll actually push back and reassert that they are now claiming this place for their own.
This idyllic image is nothing to do with bonding with the baby beneath. No. Really its because stretching skin is itchy and uncomfortable. And especially in my situation, the baby will sometimes stick something out through your belly in a bid to permanently enlarge their room. It is therefore a normal reaction to reach down to this spot and by rubbing try to convince the baby to change position. However this doesn't always work, and if your baby is anything like Starbucks they'll actually push back and reassert that they are now claiming this place for their own.
Why do pregnant women always put their hands on the arch of their backs?
This is annoying. There is simply no where else to put them. You can't cross your arms normally, as there's a bump in the way, you cant fit your hands in your front pockets anymore as thigh growth has made this pocket incapable of holding anything other than list of all the things you can't remember. Additionally, anywhere you can find on your front to put your hands will only contribute to overbalancing forward as your already very front heavy. Therefore somewhere on your back is the only option, so why not go for the typical pregnancy pose, as if you are pushing the bump out from behind.
Its fun learning these things, as they are pretty much an instinct and nothing you can do to stop them without a massive conscious effort. Its so odd being part of the pregnant culture. My only fear is - how much will remain post birth?!
This is annoying. There is simply no where else to put them. You can't cross your arms normally, as there's a bump in the way, you cant fit your hands in your front pockets anymore as thigh growth has made this pocket incapable of holding anything other than list of all the things you can't remember. Additionally, anywhere you can find on your front to put your hands will only contribute to overbalancing forward as your already very front heavy. Therefore somewhere on your back is the only option, so why not go for the typical pregnancy pose, as if you are pushing the bump out from behind.
Its fun learning these things, as they are pretty much an instinct and nothing you can do to stop them without a massive conscious effort. Its so odd being part of the pregnant culture. My only fear is - how much will remain post birth?!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Father Hen
I have not been busy nesting, XSS has. Over the past three weeks we have painted every wall in our flat, got a new boiler and two new (larger) radiators, new carpets throughout and yesterday a flat pack cot and change unit arrived! Xss made the cot instantly. In someways it makes this whole journey more believable, and in others, its just really a little odd. Why do a perfectly normal 20 somethings couple need a tiny little bed in their spare room. This worries me a little though- When will it seem real? When I'm screaming pushing her out- is that a little late?
Its great to have new carpets throughout as walking on the cold 'floor boards' (read big chunks of plaster board) to pee in the middle of the night was getting old. But in order to fit the carpets we fit our whole flat, and lives, into our bathroom. And there it remains. We can access the toilet, and half the sink if you lean over the toilet. It feels good to know we own so little stuff, and it encourages me to throw more things away. Part of the liberty and joy of travelling was having so little stuff with us, however ironic that might be to the locals as we wandered past with massive rucksacks containing only a sample of our lives but double the amount of stuff they will ever own in theirs.
In other news i have gained a new niece, bringing my total up to 4 nieces and nephews! Rhea was born on last Monday night, and is doing a good job of keeping her parents and elder sister awake all night at the moment. I'll update with a picture when i have one. Its a great a joyous occasion when someone has a baby- a whole new person enters the world. But its easier to see it when someone else has to raise them.
Its great to have new carpets throughout as walking on the cold 'floor boards' (read big chunks of plaster board) to pee in the middle of the night was getting old. But in order to fit the carpets we fit our whole flat, and lives, into our bathroom. And there it remains. We can access the toilet, and half the sink if you lean over the toilet. It feels good to know we own so little stuff, and it encourages me to throw more things away. Part of the liberty and joy of travelling was having so little stuff with us, however ironic that might be to the locals as we wandered past with massive rucksacks containing only a sample of our lives but double the amount of stuff they will ever own in theirs.
In other news i have gained a new niece, bringing my total up to 4 nieces and nephews! Rhea was born on last Monday night, and is doing a good job of keeping her parents and elder sister awake all night at the moment. I'll update with a picture when i have one. Its a great a joyous occasion when someone has a baby- a whole new person enters the world. But its easier to see it when someone else has to raise them.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
For lunch i will be mainly eating butter
Hello. Starbucks is moving a lot now days, not kicking- moving, and often when i picture her i think of her hitting or headbutting instead, leading me to worry for a two days that my baby was paralysed from the waist down- i guess that's a little irrational, but welcome to pregnancy!
I've not written much on here about Starbucks' development yet, although i do read every week whats new, and whats normal. Nice things about Starbucks is she now has eyelashes (cute), getting hair (and more importantly those annoying cow licks and crowns that she will lament in her teenage years if they're not where she wants them), she can open her eyes and see, although what that is I'm not sure. I like to imagine it looks like the winter sun coming through your closed eye lids, but what with me wearing clothes all the time -darn winter-it must really be pretty dark in there. She can also breathe in and out her own amniotic fluid and has toe nails. All things which i am sure i will check time and again once she's here.
I'm trying to look forward to her coming, but its hard knowing about the lack of sleep and space i will experience. However, i only rank sleep about 4th in my life after chocolate and Xss and God so at least all those things i love more will still exist.
Speaking of God, i find it very easy to believe that God created Starbucks and is choosing everything for her perfectly, to give her the character and person he knows works, but i am finding it much harder to believe that he has chosen me to be her mother. Ironic as that is, as i am here first, and she is very obviously my daughter (being an unmissable lump sticking out the front of me permanently now days). So I'm trying to rejoice that i have been chosen, as really i know i should, motherhood is by no means a given for everyone and i should not grow complacent with this. Its a work in progress at the moment though.
I've not written much on here about Starbucks' development yet, although i do read every week whats new, and whats normal. Nice things about Starbucks is she now has eyelashes (cute), getting hair (and more importantly those annoying cow licks and crowns that she will lament in her teenage years if they're not where she wants them), she can open her eyes and see, although what that is I'm not sure. I like to imagine it looks like the winter sun coming through your closed eye lids, but what with me wearing clothes all the time -darn winter-it must really be pretty dark in there. She can also breathe in and out her own amniotic fluid and has toe nails. All things which i am sure i will check time and again once she's here.
I'm trying to look forward to her coming, but its hard knowing about the lack of sleep and space i will experience. However, i only rank sleep about 4th in my life after chocolate and Xss and God so at least all those things i love more will still exist.
Speaking of God, i find it very easy to believe that God created Starbucks and is choosing everything for her perfectly, to give her the character and person he knows works, but i am finding it much harder to believe that he has chosen me to be her mother. Ironic as that is, as i am here first, and she is very obviously my daughter (being an unmissable lump sticking out the front of me permanently now days). So I'm trying to rejoice that i have been chosen, as really i know i should, motherhood is by no means a given for everyone and i should not grow complacent with this. Its a work in progress at the moment though.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Oh the pregnancy woes go on, moan, moan, moan.
After getting pregnant i vowed i would not write on hear each week about the joys and more often pitfalls of growing your own human. However, i did not account for how much this one task would take over my life. This morning i woke up with an additional one long side burn, of a dark shade, having just dyed my hair blonde again. (it reaches right down to the bottom of my jaw and is almost an inch thick). Like all things pregnancy related, it'll be gone sometime after the baby is here. Your just resigned to that message playing on repeat. I have cramp in my calves regularly, again, i guess it'll go. I also don't ever feel like washing up- will that go too?
In good news, i'm also growing a linea Negra, a dark line down the middle of my stomach, probably just to aid the doctors in measuring the enormity of my bulge. How exciting to be growing a fine dark line, but i think its going wonkey.
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