I can’t stop watching that video of the Brownlee brothers. If you haven’t seen it watch it.
Bear does gymnastics. He now goes to the independent class. Last week I watched him do a forward roll. Perhaps I should re-phrase. I watched him numerous times attempt to do a forward roll. He is very uncoordinated. I look at the other children, they are much better at it. He doesn’t care, he’s having a wonderful time rolling around all over the place, limbs not going the way they should. People always tell me he’s tall, I occasionally blame his incoordination on this, his arms and legs are so long he hasn’t learnt where they are yet. Plus he keeps growing, constantly changing. Anyway I digress. Basically I can’t see myself having a future sporting champion on my hands, definitely not 2. My Bear and Fox are highly unlikely to ever be in the situation the Brownlee brothers were in.
What wonderful brotherly love. Alistair said he would have done it for anyone in that position, who knows if that would actually be the case. But when it came down to it, he potentially risked coming further down the field to get his brother across that line.
I look at Bear and Fox and how they play together, I hear the reports from nursery about how they interact together. Fox idolises Bear. He follows him round, wants his toys, and tries to do everything that his big brother can do. Apparently Bear is pretty protective of him at nursery too. I love the relationship that they have. I know as the years pass, there will be arguments and fights. I just hope as they get older they can remain firm friends and look out for each other. Not only that, but they will put the other one first.
One of the reasons I love the video so much, is I feel it says so much about the character of the Brownlees’. In a world where it is easy to get sucked in to being “better” than the person next to you, whatever it takes. I think this shows how wonderful it can be when we help others along too. I only hope that my boys grow up to be good men. That is what would make me proud. Not to be rich, or athletic, or successful. But for them to have good character, an ability to think clearly how their actions can impact on others and basically be true gentleman. Any tips gratefully received.
Some days I feel like super mum (there are many others that I don’t). This isn’t me bragging, this is me recovering.
Part of my treatment for my depression was cognitive behavioural therapy (more about that another time). But part of the issue identified by my therapist was a lack of self compassion and low self esteem. It was hard to pin point when that had really begun. I don’t think I ever realised quite how bad it had become until he asked me the question “What do you like about yourself?” I just burst into tears, I couldn’t think of one thing.
I was perfect capable of being compassionate to other people and offering normal/sensible advice to those people. But I was unable to give myself that advice. If I was struggling, I saw it as failing. It was MY fault this situation had occurred. I was too hard on myself and as a result to try and compensate and make myself feel better for “failing”, I would try to do more. This is never going to end well, an endless cycle of trying harder and harder, putting more and more pressure on myself until eventually I cracked.
Now I realise that to be kind to yourself and promote your positive points isn’t bragging. Yes, I still very much believe in modesty, however you need to understand your positive qualities. If I was asked the same question now, I could come up with various things.
Anyway, today was a good day. I achieved so much more than I expected. I even managed to bake a vegetable loaf. That isn’t what makes me super mum. What makes me super mum is that despite the bad days, I’m still here, surviving, doing the best I can. I no longer look at the bad days as failed days. I look for the little achievements in the day. I’m not celebrating the mundane (like managing to get dressed), I’m learning that the things I do are good enough.
So for the parents out there, you’re doing fine. Even if you didn’t manage to get dressed today, we’ve all been there.
So my baby fox recently had an ear infection. Cue the need for antibiotics, 3 times a day for 7 days. These little things are wily, here is how the next 7 days went….
Day 1 – Oooooo what is that thing you have in your hand, of course you can put it in my mouth.
Day 2 – Ooooo what is that thing you have in your hand, hang on I remember this. Note to self be more prepared for tomorrow.
Day 3 – I remember that syringe, I’m keeping my mouth tightly shut. Except when I scream to let everyone know what you’re up too.
Day 4 – Same as yesterday, need a new strategy.
Day 5 – Overnight I have perfected the mouth clamped shut, whilst still able to scream. Have fun today.
Day 6 – Of course I’ll be a good boy and take my medicine. Haha, I’ve learnt to spit it right back out, this is a much better plan.
Day 7 – Guess what, I’ve learnt to crawl, quite fast. Catch me if you can!
Toddlers: Helping you decide if there is enough spaghetti hoops for 2.
I’m not a single mummy, never have been and hope never to be. I really don’t know how single parents do it and keep themselves together.
My only experience of having to survive without the support of a partner was when my husband went away for 7.5 months whilst I was pregnant with number 2. It was tough, but I knew he’d be home at some point. He’s currently working away in the week, but usually home at the weekends. It’s not the same as doing it alone 24/7. I long for the weekends when I know I can collapse into a heap in the corner and someone else can change the nappies, do the cooking, deal with the tears and tantrums. I know that at some point I can have “time out” from it all.
I was quite perturbed when my husband rang in the week to say that he now won’t be home this weekend. ITS MOTHERING SUNDAY! This is not fair, my first Mother’s Day with 2 and I will still have to make my own breakfast. I’m tempted to get the toddler to make me breakfast, he could do cereal or toast. But I’m not sure I want to have to deal with the aftermath of kitchen mess once he’s done.
Then I really thought about it. What if this was my life, all the time. For some people it is. My own mother became a single parent, being entirely responsible for an 8, 6 and 1 year old. Just her, and us, apart from a few hours on a Saturday. Having my own children now, I can only just comprehend how awesome she is and the fact all 4 of us made it out the other side in one piece.
It’s currently Friday evening. Normally, I would be bossing my other half around and would certainly have him cooking dinner. Instead the house is a state, I haven’t eaten and I have a large glass of red in my hand. I can have my Mother’s Day another time. But there are some people who won’t get it. So I’m going stop feeling sorry for myself. Instead I salute all the single parents out there (however you came to be one) and hope that when your children grow up they will realise how much effort you put in.
A little bit more about me. I’m married and have 2 little boys (currently age 3 and 7 months). When I’m not on maternity leave I work part time and the boys attend nursery 3 days a week. I have had both prenatal and post natal depression. I’ve always enjoyed reading other people’s “parenting tales” as it helped me realise it’s hard work and to be fair I’m probably pretty normal.
Things that make me the very normal mummy
- I think my kids are awesome
- I live on (cold) coffee
- I always have an audience when using the bathroom
- I hang the kids “artwork” and “certificates” on my kitchen cupboards
- I blame most things on baby brain
- Mr Tumble has taught me a Makaton
- You name a baby group, I’ve probably tried it
- I eat way too much cake
- I bribe my toddler with chocolate
- My toddler is far to adept at using an iPad
- I feel guilty about just how much telly I let my children watch
- I am instructed by a toddler to dance round like a loon to the Paw Patrol theme tune
- I attempt to tidy my house before friends come round
- Most parenting decisions worry me
- I would love a complete day off from being mummy every now and again
The clocks went back a few days ago, a whole extra hour was granted. This is how I spent “my” extra hour:
- Washing up the undishwasherables (basically known as wine glasses!)
- Feeding 2 children
- Folding all the washing from the previous day
- Emptying all the bins and the recycling
- Loading the dishwasher
- Putting on another load of washing
- Emptying the potty 3 times and changing 2 nappies
- Tidying up from breakfast
How childless people (AND MY HUSBAND) spent their extra hour:
A short while ago I was talking to a friend about life with 2 children. She expressed concerns that if she were to have another, she was worried she wouldn’t love them as much. This wasn’t the first time I had heard this from someone with one baby. This thought has never crossed my mind, in fact it was the complete opposite. Mind racing, anxiety creeping in, do I admit that I am worried I love my second born more than the first?
STOP. Why was I anxious about this. She admitted her worries to me, why should I not admit mine to her. As mother’s, we were in this together. I should feel fortunate to have a friend who is willing to share this with me. Being a mother is not a competition, you can’t win, you can’t do everything right. Share experiences and try not to judge.
The real reason I was scared to admit this thought was down to two things:
- A life long desperate desire to be liked and to fit in
- That I had postnatal depression after my first so motherhood was less than rosy when I had my first
Postnatal Depression (PND) affects 1 in 10 women. Very few people know that I suffered with it. When I had my first I was flung into a new world. None of my close friends had babies, the only people I knew with babies were my new NCT friends. How do you admit that you have a problem when they all seem to be loving motherhood, it came so naturally, they were all still glowing and gushing with love for their new babies. Desperate to keep these friends, afraid of being rejected from the only people I knew with babies, I pretended to be all these things. The chances are some of the mummy’s I met were suffering too, but like me, were too scared to let on.
Some days I feel that twang of guilt as I look at both my children and realise that my second born brings me so much more joy and happiness in this “baby” stage than my first born ever did. Sometimes all he has to do is look at me and my heart just melts a little bit. But then this is what is motherhood is meant to be like for everyone. Don’t get me wrong, I still have the days I want to pull my hair out, have a day off or wish the crying and tantrums would just stop. But first time around everyday was like that.
This time I’m much more honest. A lot of our friends from university and work have now entered the reproductive stage. This year alone we have had 7 sets of friends who have become first time parents! I always ask how their getting on. I never say how wonderful it must all be and they must love every minute of it. Instead I say I hope they are managing to enjoy it despite the lack of sleep and that it really is hard work. I still struggle to admit my PND, partly due to embarrassment and partly because it’s not about me now, it’s about them.