You may think it would irk me that I have a perfect handprint on my nice clean jeans. You would be wrong. For those of you that know us you will know Isaac hasn’t been well lately, for those of you who don’t know us his appetite has vanished over the last 4 days. Continue reading →
My sister is visiting from Holland, joy! I’m not going to lie and say that my joy didn’t turn to horror when she suggested that we should try baking with Isaac…baking with my 18 month old…are you serious?!
I now must concede that it was rather enjoyable, and shock horror it held his attention the whole time! I really have been under estimating how well he can concentrate now, he’s growing up so fast!
…but when he does it’s a constant source of amazement to me!
Lots of other children around the same age have many more words than he does…it bothered me, being a first time mum I was worried that he had problems talking or learning and was desperate for him to start moving past his babbling noises. I’m not claiming that he doesn’t have any words…he’s mastered no, all gone (gah-gah), car and one or two others but this weekend he really surprised me.
Sitting on his own happily stacking his cups, my husband and I saw him put one on the floor and exclaim One, then another followed by Two, then another followed by Twee, and a last one followed by Faw. That’s right people, my wee man counted one, two, three, four! Suddenly I’m not so worried any more!!
I thought that walking was bad…then came running, I thought running was bad…then came climbing, oh good grief the climbing!!
I go to the loo, something that terrifies all mothers with mobile children, where will they be when I get back…in my case, on top of the TV unit…great, cheeky smile.
The house goes quiet…he’s trying to climb into his crib to get at stinky tiger (for those of you who don’t know, stinky tiger is now confined to the bedroom as he is too disgusting to be allowed anywhere else), my first thought…if he’s trying to climb in now how long will it be until he tries to climb out during the night.
I have a sinking feeling that the days of me being able to choose if Isaac needs to see me at some forsaken time at night are rapidly drawing to a close.
So we made it to Paris. Very early start…ferried to the Euro star by my sister for a 6:55 train and in Paris by 10. I’ve never taken the Euro star before and its surprisingly easy to do…book in and sit on the train. Roy promptly fell asleep and I followed suit…content to be the odd dribbly woman, it was early enough that everyone else was asleep too so I didn’t feel bad.
We left our little bag at gare du Nord and set off for a wander…accidentally taking us through the ghetto…we couldn’t work out the metro or find someone to ask.
Miles and miles later we got to the river and the Louvre, I got to see the glass pyramids that I’ve been dying to see.
When Roy and I found out we were expecting it made me think of all the times as a child that I insisted on sleeping in mum and dads bed…I’m ill, I had a nightmare…the list goes on. We decided that if, in the next eighteen years, we wanted to get any sleep at all we would need to replace our falling apart bed, and it would need to be with a bigger one!
A nightmare with Dreams later we had a Next bed and King Size mattress…super comfortable, I am really, really happy with our bed.
So, my revelation, I’m a grown up. It doesn’t sound like a big revelation but it was. I had Isaac at 27. At that time I still felt pretty young, I went out with friends, drank, went to gigs, I piddled away enjoyed my money.
Flash forward to 2012, skint.
My husband and I both work really hard but debts are a constant concern. My revelation came when we sat down and looked at our money, really looked and found all the ways we could save. I changed my phone contract. We changed our phone and internet. We swapped our car. That was my revelation, I am mature enough to look at my Vectra, how it guzzles diesel and say I need something more fuel, tax, insurance efficient. That’s right, I swapped my beefy Vauxhall vectra for a piddly fiat panda. Small (with enough boot space to comfortably fit a buggy and all Isaacs gear surprisingly), fuel efficient, £30 tax for the year, £25 less per month for insurance…it all makes sense…I’m officially an adult. What a revelation. Now a quick confession…I LOVE MY OUR NEW PANDA…shh don’t tell anyone.
Well I said that I’d do it and I did…I got a little bit of me back! Over the last couple of weeks I’ve gone out a number if times on my own, the latest of which was to a wedding. I was out from 7 and even had a couple if cocktails…it was a wedding reception so it would have been rude not to! It wasvm great, I borrowed a dress (as
my body has changed shape since the birth of my Lo nothing fits) put on some killer heals and danced the night away. I had a wonderful time. It seems that as Isaacs independence is growing so I am regaining some of mine too.
There is no doubt at all that Isaac will always be the most important person in my life but I have managed to start thinking of myself as important too, I think I’m on my way to a healthy mummy baby balance. When Isaac was new, until recently really, he was always the most important, I could go for hours before I realised that I hadn’t eaten or drank anything yet but Isaac had several times over.
Now I’m at the stage where if I want a cup of tea and he’s happily amused with his toys I can wander into the kitchen and make one, I know when he stands at the gate protesting because he can’t get in it won’t scar him. I can start to take care of myself again…something as little as making a cup of tea and drinking it HOT feels just great!
Through the ages, men and women have had their set roles in society. The male, hunter gatherer provides for his family while the woman cooks and cleans, has children and raises them.
When I was growing up myself and all of my friends had stay at home mums, it was odd for someones mother to work. Flash forward about 15 years and now I find myself in completly the opposite situation, it’s not the “norm” for a mother to be able to stay at home full time, infact I would go so far as to say that at least ninety percent of the mums I know have gone back to work at least one day a week. Now going back to work is not necessairily a choice that we as mummys have made, usually it’s more of a necessity, in order to keep the house, car and everything else we NEED to go back to work. Luckily for me I have gone back three days a week which I feel now is a pretty good balance. I still get to spend more of the week with my little monkey than without but also have the “break” that is going to work and spending time as an adult not just a mummy. Had you spoken to me prior to going back to work I’m 100% sure that I would have said that I wanted to stay home full time, however, after being forced back to work, if I am blessed with any other children I shall be giving a different answer. I’m not ashamed to say that now I like going to work…probably more than I did pre-baby. As a parent it’s really difficult, as I said before in the work, family, me balance https://justanothermummyblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/30/the-work-family-me-balance/ to find any time to yourself when you’re at home with your children, going to work gives me that time, I can excercise my brain and be myself.
The obstical that my husband and I are coming up against with both of us working is who stays home with the baby when he’s sick? The logical way for us to work this is that we share the responsibility. I do one day, he does the next. Now this may or may not be a bit sexist but it seems odd for him to be calling work to say he can’t come in cause he has to stay home and look after the baby, even to me, and I would like to think of myself as open minded. We are so used to it being a womans job to look after the children that a man doing it is somewhat alien. But it isn’t alien is it? I have the good fortune to say that my huband is a wonderful man…he has done his fair share of everything Isaac…the 3am feeds, exploding nappies, sleepless nights, teething…the list goes on. Surely this is what as equals we can now expect from our significant others. Raising a child is so stressful that there is nothing more important than the support of your significant other and I am glad that I live in a world where it isn’t tabboo for me to say, I’m bushed, would you mind taking over?