Archive | May 2016

Boy babies and girl babies 

There’s only one main difference between having a boy baby compared to a girl baby so far that I’m certain every other parent can relate to – the contents of their nappy.

The anatomical differences are more challenging than I expected, after spending four years getting used to cleaning up female parts (which took some getting used to), I am now faced with a tiny willy and balls to look after.

Here are my top four differences I’m faced with when dealing with tiny boy parts:

  • Willy’s are dangerous, keep that thing covered at all times!
  • Wiping a willy with a cold wipe often encourages more wee to clean up.
  • Cleaning up is always uncomfortable for the chaps little chap, a cold wipe is never appreciated by the boy and he cries every time.
  • Whereas I was used to being careful not to get poo into places it shouldn’t, I now spend ages chasing poo around places it shouldn’t, and the miniature jewels really get in the way, it’s far more fiddly. I have some appreciation for women who first encounter this set of features and wonder what the hell they’re meant to do with them.

Daughter, meet son. Son meet daughter. Please get on. 

Our family is all together. We’d made plans for daughter To stay with a cousin for a few nights once labour began, and yesterday daughter and son met for the first time, and today everyone was back home together. 

Daughter was deliciously excited when she first met her new brother, but also still quite nervous. She’d want to look and study him, but didn’t want to touch. 

Now that everyone’s home she’s grown in confidence. She’s given him a cuddle and keep “checking on him” in his Moses basket and reporting back the he’s awake or asleep (mostly asleep so far) and just gets on with things. So far he hasn’t made much of an impact, we did the same things we’d normally do, but with a sleeping baby in the room. When wifey wasn’t feeding him she was sleeping, and I think daughter is missing mummy time a lot – it’s still going to be a while yet until things sort themselves out below enough for her to crawl around on the floor with daughter playing. 

Things got interesting at bath time when the boy had his first full wash down. He didn’t like it one bit and began crying. The girl looked utterly bewildered and shocked by this horrible noise and backed away involuntarily saying “I don’t like it, whys he making that noise?!?” She got a little upset and kept asking for it to stop. We explained how everything was new and strange for the baby, and he didn’t understand what was goi g on and crying is pretty much all he can do if he’s confused or doesn’t like something. We also tried to explain that there’s probably be lots more to come, but it’s ok, she doesn’t need to worry, mummy and daddy will look after him and make sure he’s ok. 

She later told wifey she didn’t like the baby wants him to go away.  I was expecting her to come out with that at some point, but not when he was less than a week old!

And then we were four. 

He’s here.

I’ve made it through another delivery, and I think I feel ok.

This time it was quite different. Here are ten things I recognised:

  1. Number 2 was much faster, within 24 hours of the first contraction we were back home with a new baby.
  2. It was much calmer, there was just a midwife and her student there which was a much nicer experience, and there were far, far less complications.
  3. Less blood. This time it felt more normal, I can still remember how much blood there was before, it still frightens me.
  4. I didn’t think wifey’s life was in danger this time, that was a massive bonus (though there was a moment I feared for the boy)
  5. It wasn’t so overwhelming, I knew I could deal with this, and that wifey could too.
  6. I actually felt a little bit useful this time as I wasn’t as freaked out and could offer better emotional and physical support.
  7. We hadn’t met the delivery midwife before, but that was ok because she was awesome, and so was her colleague who took over shortly after we arrived. I think it’s a fair generalisation that most midwives are awesome.
  8. For wifey, if your body isn’t totally butchered below in delivery, it gives you a much better start to being a mum.
  9. The boy was massive, I was ready for being in awe of his frail tiny newborn babyness, but you could absolutely tell he was overdue and ready for the world.
  10. I was quite conscious of my anxiety, but had the foresight to take a maximum does of medication in the morning and managed to keep on top of it.

All in all a good start all th get considered. Here we go…


And so we wait. 

Tick follows tock follows tick….


Still waiting for the hopefully familiar. 

No baby. Our lives continue to be perched on the edge of the newborn abis.

Feeling pretty nervous about it now. Last night I read through some of my post from this time four years ago in 2012, I’d forgotten how tough it was, it Got me quite scared about what’s coming.

Reading through the old posts, I do talk about how a lot is down to confidence, and I certainly have a lot more of that now which is a good thing. 

I’m hoping it’s a bit like learning to drive – when you first get behind the wheel you can’t imagine how you’re going to be able steer, change gear, accelerate, check mirrors… do all those things together… it all feels overwhelming. But slowly and surely things come together and before too long you’re not thinking about the basics which first flumaxed you, there are bigger things to worry about, like switching lanes on the north circular to make your exit while avoiding being cut up by white van man. And even when you haven’t driven for a while and have to pick up a hire car, you soon get the hang of it. 

Let’s hope…

You’re always pretty

Daughter got some lip balm in a stick for her birthday and it’s making her feel very grown up. 

Mummy, I need it to look pretty

Daughter, you always look pretty, you don’t need that to look pretty. 

Not when I’m grumpy mummy, I don’t look pretty when I’m grumpy

She’s got a point….

Borrowed time 

Baby is over due. We’re fed up.

Today I felt a bit like a single dad as it was a mostly daddy and daughter day. We had a good time though, we went to the park round the corner, had a ride on her scooter, she ate a good lunch (the healthy carrots and tomatoes had to be bribed with wotsits) and we planned dominoes and did some reading.

But I worry about her relationship with wifey as they’re not able to play together much and that could be the case for some time, more out of time than the current physical difficulty when the Boy arrives. 

I feel very conscious of wanting to make the most of the current situation where I can easily give the Girl my undivided attention, and I fear how I’m going to manage sharing myself between them very shortly. 

Keep on waiting

This pregnancy seems to be all about waiting. 

For months we waited to see if this month would be the one, and for months we were disappointed. 

The midwife appointments gave us more things to worry and wait for – bump is too big, test after test to rule out all the nasty possible causes.

Them waiting and waiting to get in the right position, before giving up and having him forcibly turned, and then waiting to check he hadn’t wriggled back…

And nOw he’s overdue and we wait. They tried a sweep today and that didn’t work, things weren’t properly aligned. So again we wait.

Baby continues to grow. 

And we wait. 

And wait. 

The yes no game

So here’s a fun game, it goes like this:

Me: want to play yes-no?

Her: Yes!

Me: Yes

Her: No

Me: Yes

Her: No

Me: Yes

Her: No

Me: Yes!

Her: Yes!

Me: No!

Her: Yes!

Me: No!

Her: No!

Me: Haha!

No: Hahahahaha!

And we both giggle together. Good times.

Your first baby is a life changer, but don’t underestimate the second.

A close couple has just had their second child, and their first is still in nappies and a little unsteady on their feet.

This has taken me straight back to the anxiety panics I had in the early months of our first. Right now I can’t even get my head round the basic logistics and family needs. I’ve always known deep down that I wanted a family, and coming from a family with brothers and sisters I struggle with the the conflicting ideas of raising an only child, and being healthy enough to support a bigger family.

Being an adult is fucking hard. 

%d bloggers like this: