Wednesday, 30 December 2015

That weird bit between Christmas and New Year

Our first Christmas is over and I can declare we have all survived, we have eaten 3 roasts in a row and shoveled hideous amounts of shortbread into our mouths. The multi coloured shit has started some kind of breeding programme in the toy box and has multiplied!



Bomber has received a ridiculous amount of toys that is not only over stimulating to him, but also to me! Am I the only one that has to match all the pieces to each toy and line them up in a specific way before being able to relax when the baby has gone to bed? There always seems to be one piece missing, I know that the fire engine has 5 pieces of Mega Block in it so where is the 5th piece!! Crazy legs ladybug has the most annoying shapes that have to be placed back on it every night but somehow the circle piece is ALWAYS sodding missing!

I am also currently learning a whole new singing repertoire:
Laugh and Learn puppy and his "GREEN HAND"
Laugh and Learn cookie jar "Shapes are in my cookie jar, triangle heart and star....."
Beat Bo who is my favourite (this is a lie, he might have to loose his batteries soon) so far as it's what I sing ALL DAY "Do the Beat Bo boogy clap, do the Beat Bo boogy clap clap clap" along with "see the colours on my screen".

We have reached that weird bit between Christmas and New Year. Nobody knows what day of the week it is so every day feels like a Sunday which is really helpful as I'm very doubtful that I will actually fit into any clothes unless they are pyjamas or my old faithful maternity jeans, stretchy waistbands only of course.
I must confess that I have taken down the decorations and removed the tree, Bomber must have had a growth spurt as he started to reach the very bottom baubles and took great delight in waiting for me to tell him NO before throwing his head back laughing then yanking at the entire tree.

Happy New Year to you all. 

Square Peg Mum

P.S Don't drink too much on New Years Eve if you have children, you will regret it ALOT the next morning and I'm not even sure if McD's is open to aid recovery! xx




Friday, 18 December 2015

Sunday, 13 December 2015

Tis the season to be SNOTTY

Last week I made a very silly mistake. Whilst gleefully stuffing my face with cake I announced to my group of Mummy friends (not the wrapped in toilet paper kind, the parenting type) Bomber had still not been ill. He was still a Calpol virgin and I was yet to experience the wrestle with the syringe. I should have know it was the season to be SNOTTY!

Before I was a parent being ill would have had me wrapped up in comfy pyjamas a huge mug of tea, perhaps a box of broken biscuits and staying in bed for a few days, like an unwashed sad whale.


THIS CAN NOT HAPPEN WHEN YOU HAVE A CHILD!


Fast forward a week and Bomber started coughing and then two days later so did I. We were ill together. Sore throats, runny noses and we both had a temperature.


Even though Bomber was ill he still wanted to get up at 7am. He still wanted to stick to the same routine he has most days. Milk, nap and then some more milk followed by his hour of playing. I was in mourning as there was a very real and sudden realisation that I could no longer have a sickness day in bed. Mr Bomber had also gone away for the weekend so I was going it alone for the very first time with an ill baby.

Bomber became increasingly grouchy but I still had my trump card to play with the Calpol. Or so I thought because who invented that syringe? who decided that it was an easy way to get medicine into a tiny human that thrashes around? I slowly tried to squeeze it into his mouth I realised that actually the syringe is useless. It actually fired it into his mouth which caused him to gag. Bomber threw up over me a beautiful mixture of Strawberry (sugar and colour free, don't judge me!) Calpol and boob milk It was a distinct smell and this caused me to gag. We are both sat on the floor in a pool of vomit gagging at each other and crying feeling dam sorry for ourselves. I said out loud to myself WELCOME TO PARENTING.

I also found out this week that there is such a thing as a snot sucker. I love Bomber more than any words can describe but quite simply my love does not stretch to sucking snot out of his face, even typing this has caused me to gag! However he has mastered taking Calpol from the syringe and now sucks it like a lollipop, not sure if this is a bad reflection on me though.

Square Peg Mum

Sunday, 6 December 2015

The curse of the Christmas Tree

Will Christmas 2015 be any different now we have an 8 month old baby? Probably not if the last 2 years are anything to go by. You see every year we seem to have this curse and it always involves the Christmas tree...


The flying Christmas tree that became the lame Christmas tree

Mr Bomber decided a few day's before Christmas day that he would try and be helpful and put the tree up himself. He spent a good hour arranging the branches, placing the baubles and wrapping the lights around. He announced he had finished. The tree was unveiled, I actually thought that he was taking the piss. The baubles were down one side of the tree and yes he had put the lights on last. He was genuinely pleased with what he had achieved. I'm not one to suffer from Ornament Corrective Placement Disorder (OCPD) but the result was the tree was flung across the living room in a minor disagreement and it became a little bit broken. This resulted in me doing a shopping trip at 8pm that night to locate a new Christmas tree. I found a cheap plastic pre lit Christmas tree. I still firmly believe that Mr Bomber did this entirely on purpose so he would never ever be asked to decorate the Christmas tree again. He still insists that it was a genuine effort at decorating the tree.


This will never be our Christmas tree!




The last real Christmas tree left at the saw mill tree

Knowing I had bought a slightly lame Christmas tree the previous year due to the flying Christmas tree incident we decided we would purchase an actual real Christmas tree. It was about a week before Christmas day so plenty of time to wonder around laughing and joking, holding hands as we wondered through the trees trying to decide on the PERFECT tree. The reality was turning up to the local saw mill on the large country estate and finding one lonely 7ft tree left lying on its side, the only tree they had left. It was a bit wonky and one side had grown more than the other. We had no choice other than to hand over the £50 and give the tree a loving home for Christmas.



The we have an 8 month old baby, playpen and nowhere to put the Christmas tree, tree

This year we have gone with the slightly lame Christmas tree from 2 years ago. We have no space in our living room, as it has slowly being taken over by the multi coloured shit and the baby prison that now sits in the bay window. The Christmas tree is now perched on top of the coffee table that had already been relegated to the sidelines of the living room. This was due to Bomber using it as a baby climbing frame. This is seriously dodgy territory as Bomber is not shy of grabbing things he wants, however to ensure maximum safety we have placed him on the floor and put his arms into the air. We can confirm that Bomber is not tall enough to ride the Christmas tree and no baubles are in grasping reach. All we have to do now is make sure he doesn't eat through the electrical cables and we will all survive our first Christmas tree experience together as a family.

Square Peg Mum

Monday, 30 November 2015

Hello from the otherside..... of the playpen

This week saw the release of Adele's new single titled Hello. Ironically this week Bomber is learning to wave when you say Hello.


Jumperoo we love you!

It was also another big change in our house, I was nearly crying actual tears when dismantling the Jumperoo and wishing it a sad farewell! This equipment gave me a small piece of sanity back when I was very nearly at the point of sitting in the corner mumbling to myself.
I remember thinking that I had massively underestimated how much I loved my own arms and having them to myself. I longed for somewhere that little Bomber could happily sit and be entertained safely, whilst my arms and me reacquainted ourselves. The Jumperoo allowed me to go and make myself a cup of tea or even a cheeky sandwich. The Jumperoo allowed me to achieve! Thank you Jumperoo for all you did for my sanity. We will miss you!



Baby prison
As we had said goodbye to the most marvellous Jumperoo we said Hello to a new piece of equipment known as baby prison the playpen.
Bomber learned to stand at 7 months. I will state this now, we didn't ever encourage him to sit/crawl/stand I was happy to have a baby that liked sitting on a play mat surrounded by their toys whilst I watched a box set. I realise now that this was some kind of Pinterest pipe dream I had imagined about Motherhood. The reality is a 7 month old yanking themselves up on any upright surface they can find and standing like a drunken sailor and then him falling onto his head mostly and resembling Frankenstein for a few days after. I suddenly had nowhere safe and secure to hold him. What was I supposed to do if I went to get myself that cheeky sandwich or go and microwave my cup of tea for the 15th time.
The playpen has been up for a week now and it's amazing! Bomber is happy to sit in there for 15 minutes with his toys waving hello to me whilst I run around the house trying to get some of the household chores done.
Word of warning, I stupidly Googled "playpen good or bad" last night and then instantly regretted it with articles about playpens delaying babies development. I came to the conclusion that these articles were surely written by a)people that have not had children or b)people that can afford nannies to look after their children.

Our baby prison is staying and I'm pretty sure Bomber will not suffer any developmental delays.

P.S If you every clean your Jumperoo be sure to hook out the green part with the elephant, monkey and parrot. We found some seriously interesting looking slime underneath ours!!!

Square Peg Mum

Tuesday, 24 November 2015

An introduction to Square Peg Mum

My first blog I'm trying to find my inner monologue, sounds filthy! I better explain the name of my blog.
Square Peg Mum that's me, it's how I feel now and have felt since the day I became pregnant. During pregnancy I felt embarrassed by my ever growing belly, only at the very last month did I feel comfortable with its size, by then it was too late to embrace the whole pregnancy wardrobe that I should have treated myself to. Instead my maternity wardrobe consisted of 1 x pair of maternity jeans, which are still super comfortable these were definitely a good buy and 2 x maternity tops which are of equal value and are also still being worn!

In my quest to feel like the perfect Mother I eagerly enrolled me and my partner onto our local NCT course and the free NHS courses, you know so we got a rounded view of everything baby. I felt out of place at both of them. It was like I was sitting in some dream land, like a square peg being wedged into this perfectly moulded round hole of Motherhood that everyone was expecting from me.

Every pregnant lady loves a gym ball

There were 5 other couples on our NCT course, they all seemed around the same age as us. Deep down I wanted the 5 other ladies to be my new friends, I needed to chat and stuff cake in my mouth with ladies that understood me. I did not want to be sat in a cold hall on a Sunday morning learning about vaginas and wombs with 5 other Men I had never met before.
I remember one NCT class on breathing in labour. I was rolled onto a gym ball and my somewhat bewildered partner tried to lovingly stroke and rub my back with the instructor asking us to imagine a beach with waves crashing around us. All I could imagine was how ridiculous we all looked and thinking if I'm like this in labour rolling around on a ball probably imaging Skegness as it's the only beach I can seem to sum up in my imagination then this is hysterical. I laughed quietly to start with but by trying to pretend I wasn't laughing it quickly escalated into a full on roar of laughter, I was politely stared at by our very lovely instructor who looked somewhat bewildered, I left the room. I continued to laugh loudly, alone in the corridor. My better controlled other half clinging onto the gym ball amongst the 5 couples that seemingly wanted to learn this crap. I had paid for the NCT course so I was going to dam well enjoy it but I just can't pretend to fit into that round hole sometimes and a bit of the real me comes out.

I hope through this blog I can find my square hole or maybe it is changing to be a round hole after all. Who knows I'm already 7 months in and so much has changed!

Square Peg Mum