Little Hyena Baby

Despite being a grumpy horror for most of yesterday and today (think she might have yet another cold. And an eye infection. And keeps missing naps), tonight, The Baby astounded me by laughing hysterically, for about 10 minutes, because my mam was hitting her with one of her own socks. Not just doing little baby giggles either. Proper, full-on, hyena chortling. I actually thought she might make herself sick. I've put the video on facebook - maybe she will become an internet sensation like that other laughing baby. I have no idea why it is so much fun to watch a baby laugh, but it is. So much fun, that I will forgive her for squawking every 30 bloody minutes for no bloody reason, like she has this evening.

On a completely and totally unrelated to anything note, there is a little thing at the bottom of the "Edit Post" screen, which says you can add labels to it, "e.g. scooters, holidays, autumn". How random is that? Who chose those? Are there many blogs about scooters, holidays, or autumn, or indeed all three? (I have just googled those three words together, and the top two results were adventure holidays in Italy, and mobility scooter rental in North Cyprus. So there you go.)

Oh, What The Feck Does It Matter?

Another ScaryParenting rant, sorry. I know that I have a problem, I just can't seem to stay away.

Anyway, lately I've been reading a lot of (exceedingly annoying) debates about various child-rearing choices - breast feeding, formula feeding, cloth nappies, early weaning, purees, baby-led weaning, Gina Ford, attached parenting, baby-wearing, co-sleeping, controlled crying, cry-it-out blah blah blah blah blah. (People with no children or who aren't obsessesed with baby websites are probably going "wtf?!" right now. Yeah, I had no idea these things had these names either.) The debates always get very heated, with everyone rushing to defend their own positions while subtly implying that everyone else is wrong.

But how much difference does it make, really? In 20 years time, or even 10 or fewer, are you going to be able to tell who was on a strict routine from birth, and who was demand-fed until they were two? Do we look at Ashley Cole and think "I bet he wasn't breastfed."? Do we assume that Barack Obama was given a wide variety of finger foods instead of being force-fed pureed carrot? (No idea where those examples came from, or what I'm trying to say with them, if anything. Oh, forget the names, it doesn't matter). No, we don't. So why does everyone get so het up about it? Buggered if I know. I personally am a fan of the "make it up as you go along and hope I'm not emotionally (or physically) scarring my child for life" method. It might not be perfect, but hopefully it will work.

What's the point of all of this? I can only conclude, once again, that I spend too much time on the internet.

It's Officially Over!

My maternity leave that is. I am officially Back At Work. I'm on holiday for another few weeks, so not actually back yet. But it's a bit sad, all the same. In some ways, I'm really looking forward to going back to work - I can talk to people and get a reply in actual English, I will have time to eat lunch every day, and I won't be constantly covered in drool. But on the other hand, I'm not sure how to function in the adult world anymore. I rarely brush my hair, I've forgotten how to do most things on a computer apart from blog and bimble around on ScaryParenting.com, and I will have to leave The Baby with strangers! Only for one day a week, but it's still quite scary. She's going through a bit of a clingy stage, which is apparently quite common around 9 months. So it's helpful that this is when maternity pay runs out. Must have a word with the Government about that.

She will probably love nursery, and won't miss me at all. Just another way in which she seems so big and grown-up. Sniff. Being Soppy Mammy now. Shut up.

Even Bigger Woo!

The Baby has had a completely injury-free day today! And only a very small number of tantrums too! Oddly, most of the tantrums were during meals. Most unlike her to object to being fed. She also had quite a significant one in Boots, I think she was bored with me trying to choose a lipstick. I don't blame her, I get bored of me trying to choose lipsticks too. I'm not very good at it, and I hardly ever have reason to put on make-up, but I have about 12 of those £5 off vouchers for No7, so I am damn well going to use one. Even if it means me spending money on something I neither need nor want, I have a voucher, therefore it will be a bargain, therfore the opportunity cannot be passed up.

Probably won't post at the weekend, we're going down to Stockton to visit family and friends. Husband's lovely mother has agreed to babysit, so we are going to go out, and I am also going to go watch Husband play drums (I certainly know where The Baby gets her talent for hitting stuff from). Yay. Hopefully I won't have to help carry any stuff. Or listen to any soundchecks. Yeah, I'm with the band. Rock on.

Woo. And, Indeed, Hoo.

I did it! The Baby did not fall off anything today! She spent most of the day playing in a nest of cushions on the living room floor, so she couldn't even fall backwards and hit her head on the floor. Win! OK, so she kind-of put her fingers in a cupboard door, but I was closing it very gently (due to her, admittedly, misjudged-by-me proximity to said cupboard), and her reaction was a bit OTT, if you ask me. Still claiming a win for today.

What Is Wrong With Me???!!!!

Seriously, what the hell is wrong with me? I have just read this whole blog back to myself, noting the increasingly frequent references to The Baby's growing mobility, culminating in her two spectacular head-clunks of the other day. So how in the name of Cheryl Cole have I allowed her to tumble off something again?! Tonight it was her changing unit, which is considerably higher than the sofa. Husband and I were getting her ready for bed, and in the 10 seconds or so while neither of us realised we were both looking for the cotton wool instead of watching The Baby, she managed to fling herself over the front of the unit. Thankfully, I looked up as she was mid-somersault, and I swear, I actually saw it in slow-motion. I sprang forward and kind-of caught her just before she hit the deck, but she did manage to bump and graze her head on the box of stuff we keep underneath the unit. I feel really, really terrible now. She's fine, by the way. Screamed her lungs out for a couple of minutes and then went back to trying to take her own nappy off. But I am very, very annoyed with myself and really frightened that I don't appear to by learning my lesson! That being, when they say, "You can't take your eyes off them for a second, " it literally means ONE second. Especially if you have a DangerBaby like mine. So I think I have scared myself into being good now. Vigilance is our watchword. And hopefully tomorrow I will be able to tell you all that she didn't hurt herself at all.

Ooh, on the Good Mammy side though, I did enriching activity today! Took The Baby to a sensory room. It was fabulous. I could quite happily have stayed in there all day. It was comfy and there were pretty lights.

I realise that does not make up for letting her fall off stuff though.

Better

So glad the Health Visitor came last week and not this week, as The Baby now has a bruised eye thanks to the head-smacking shenanigans. Oops.

At least we are all better now. As I mentioned the other day, The Baby was ill and we thought she was teething. STILL NO TOOTH!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOUR TEETH CHILD???!!!! OK, sorry, will calm down now, I'm sure they will pop out eventually.
Anyway, we had a repeat of the rubbish, rubbish night. Although it was a bit worse. As once every half an hour so, she would have some kind of wriggly fit, wave her arms around, and knock her dummy out, and then need cuddling back to sleep. But the worst part was, that in the middle of the night, I suddenly got ill. Feel sorry for me, people!!!!! I was really poorly!! Worse than man flu and everything! Staying awake all night with a poorly baby, and then playing all day with a no-longer-poorly baby, while you have a fever is PANTS! Ugh.

I've just realised, this is not a very interesting post. But I can't be bothered to write an interesting one. Mainly because there is a double bill of America's Next Top Model on. So you will just have to wait, and I will try and think of something better next time.

Fail

So much for keeping her all safe. I have let The Baby bang her head again. This time, she dived onto the laptop table. I am never going on the computer while The Baby is awake again. (Starting right now)

Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Bad Mammy

I am only surprised I have not written this post sooner.

Picture the scene: Bad Mammy and The Baby are on the sofa. Bad Mammy is on the internet, again (for once, not on ScaryParenting.com, although the irony would have been sweet), leg outstretched to pen in The Baby, who is happily playing at the other end of the sofa. Until The Baby decides to play Extreme DangerBaby, and fling herself forward, over my leg, and somersault onto the floor, landing on her head.

Bad Bad Bad Mammy, and Angry Angry Angry Baby.

She seems fine though. I always think if she's well enough to bawl her head off, she's ok.

But I am going to play with her lots and keep her all safe today, in penance for my rubbishness.

Well, It Had To Happen Sooner or Later....

Rubbish, rubbish night.

I think The Baby is teething. I have thought this many, many times since she was about 8 weeks old. At Christmas, I could have sworn I saw the very tippiest tip of a tooth poking through, but it must have gone back in or something, because she is still toothless. However, it might be the Real Thing this time. This is a reasonable assumption to make, I think, after she practically cooked a peace of melon last night just with the heat of her gums. And after a day of extreme grumpiness (she whinged all the way through my friend's daughter's 1st birthday party), we suspected we were in for a rough night.

As I've probably said before, I have been extraordinarily lucky in that The Baby has always been very good at sleeping at night. Therefore, when she doesn't sleep, it kind of takes me by surprise. Like last night. Ugh. I have renewed admiration for those (like my mother) who had or have babies that are up screaming all night every night. These women are saints and goddesses.

Anyway, I am very attached to our bedtime routine, mainly because it seems to work and I usually get a not bad night's kip. She has her bottle, and gets put to bed with her dummy in and her mobile on, and that's it. SHE DOES NOT GET UP AGAIN AT ALL (except for big poos and fire alarms). However, even I am not so heartless a mammy as to leave a baby to scream while she is poorly. Besides, it would have done no good, as the more she screamed, the more awake she got. So there followed 4 hours of rocking, cuddling, stroking, shushing and singing to a screaming baby. Not fun. (It didn't even occur to us to check if she was hungry until 11pm. She was. But kept screaming anyway) Whenever she stopped screaming, she decided it was time to play, and play a new game of her own invention which mainly involved hitting us very hard in the chest. I finally got her to sleep by giving her a very tight cuddle, which took me a very long time to extricate myself from. When she was lying peacefully asleep in the middle of our bed, the decision was taken to move her back to her own cot. Fail. Restart whole process.

Grumpy tired Baby and grumpy tired Mammy today (probably grumpy tired Daddy too, but he's at work so that's his colleagues' problem) She'd better get a tooth at the end of this.

Slightly More Normal Today!

Just read my last post back, and realised it does read like the insane ramblings of a mental person who's been sniffing nail varnish. Sorry. (I wasn't sniffing nail varnish, or anything else, just so you know. Just tired and talking nonsense) Back on Planet Earth now, i think. I'm not really less tired (4.40 am wake up), but have had a very nice day. The Baby has been quite nice, I made an almost completely successful risotto, and had a nice lunch with some friends and their babies. The babies all sat chatted to each other and tried to eat each other's socks, while us mammies sat around comparing useless husband stories. It seems all men have a blind spot when it comes to stuff that doesn't live in the middle of the floor.

I actually just felt a little bit guilty writing that, as Husband is currently in the kitchen, washing up the 7 million pans and utensils I felt it necessary to utilise in making my risotto. And he is getting much better with tidying stuff. It's only taken several years of nagging. But as I am constantly telling him, if he listened and obeyed the first time, I wouldn't have to nag, would I?

Floppy

Currently feeling all floppy and chilled. And confused as to why Mickey Mouse Clubhouse is on telly. The Baby has been in bed for 2 hours.

Very tired. The Baby is not sleeping brilliantly, and keeps wanting to play at 6am. Where she gets this morning-person thing from, I have no idea. She's been a bit horrid today. Also still cheeky. In Asda, she got bored of waiting for me to pack the shopping, so delved into my bag and pulled out the packet of rice cakes. For this piece of naughtiness.. she was given a rice cake. Well, it was very clever of her, I thought!. No wonder she's fat.

Watching a very funny repeat of Mock the Week - If 10% is the answer, is the question "How much blood does Amy Winehouse have in her blood?". Genius.

This is a very random post, I feel.

Health Visitor coming tomorrow. I'm not sure what they're checking at this one. Should probably clean the house a bit though. And put the bleach on a shelf or something.

Happy Mothers' Day!

That's Mothers' Day, as in celebrating all mothers, not Mother's Day, as in celebrating just one, which would be rude. A facebook friend has just got very riled and emphatic on this point. So I will just take a moment to say a big woo hoo and hello to all the mammies out there, and say even if you're a "bad" one like me, you're doing a fabulous job!

I have had a good day today. It was absoutely worth pushing a human out of me, if I get to have pancakes and bacon, and get bought lovely pyjamas every year. I'm sitting in my new pyjamas right now, feeling very happy. My daughter has exceptionally good taste for an 8-month old.

The Baby, by the way, seemed not to realise that today was a day for showing love and appreciation to your mother, instead choosing to scream in my ear and drool on my leg for much of it. I did get a very big, very sloppy kiss, right on my mouth, when I wasn't expecting it though. Lovely. Would have rather had flowers.

Evenin'

This evening, I are mostly sitting on my arse, ignoring the mess the house is in, eating half a Galia melon in lieu of tea, and debating extended breastfeeding on ScaryParenting.com (why oh why will these women not accept that we don't all want to breastfeed our children until they are 7, put them in cloth nappies, only give them wholesome, homemade finger foods, and get up with them 14 times a night for the rest of their lives???).

I seem to have mostly got over my horrid horrid cold, which is good. Thanks very much to lovely Husband, who took The Baby away, and my lovely parents, who came over and played with The Baby, and then bought me sticky toffee pudding. I think that may have been what cured me.

So yes, felt sufficiently well to trundle off to see people today, including my gorgeous but quite, quite mental nephews - the eldest seems to be developing quite a talent for modern interpretative dance. Also saw my two best friends and their baby bumps, and had a nice long lunch discussing prams and baby names. They're both having girls which is good, boys' names are boring as.

Ooh, and some news from MobilityWatch - we've got crawling! She's really not very good at it yet, and seems not entirely happy about doing it, and still launches herself backwards by accident quite a lot, but she is definitely getting better by the day. We also had some bum-shuffling today, without me noticing. I looked up and she was suddenly a foot further away from me. And very pleased with herself too. Really must buy some baby-proofing equipment. The Health Visitor is coming next week, and she might not be impressed with the amount of sharp corners, loose wires and other lovely exciting things that lie around for The Baby to hurt herself on. Ah well, how else will she learn about danger?!

DangerBaby and the Snot Machine

I am feeling very sorry for myself today. I have a horrible cold, of the contstantly runy nose and whole-body sneezes variety, and it is making me feel very bleurgh and even less with it than normal. Take yesterday, when I was applying cream to The Baby's fungal rash on her back, I suddenly realised that Daktarin doesn't usually smell minty. Toothpaste, however, does. Oops.

The slowing down of thought process and reflexes that usually accompanies a cold has unhappily coincided with the transformation of The Baby into DangerBaby. If there is a precipice, DangerBaby will try and throw herself off it. If there is a wire, DangerBaby will try and tangle herself in it. If there is a hard object, DangerBaby will fling herself upon it. Over the last two days, she has fallen backwards onto the floor 3 times, hit the top of her head on the laptop table twice, chinned the laptop table once, been caught by her ankles while diving off the sofa 4 times, and dug her nails into my skin while trying to climb over me too many times to count. And all I want is for her to sit quietly on the floor playing with her stacking cups while I loll on the sofa wondering if this is as bad as Man Flu.

Thankfully The Best Husband In The World (as he shall be known until he does something stupid like put all the forks in the dishwasher upside-down) has informed me he is taking her out tomorrow morning to give me a rest. This is fabulous news.

Going to go and have a bath now and watch last week's Masterchef. That should make me feel better. Unless they all cook scallops with pea puree again. Then I'll get annoyed. I realise it's a very irrational thing to get annoyed about, but there are other ingredients, you know.

Unfortunate Likeness

Somebody on ScaryParenting.com last night pointed out that David Cameon looks very like Iggle Piggle. I am very tired today, as last night I was kept awake by "Yes, my name is David Caam-ron, David Avid Wavid Pavid Caam-ron.." running round my head.

I Heart Wales

Wales is fantastic! Who knew?! (Probably lots of Welsh people)

I was worried about taking The Baby on a plane, wondering how she would cope with the ear-popping and all that. Turns out I needn't have worried. She adored flying! She smiled and gurgled at the cabin crew, only got a bit bored of sitting on her daddy's knee for ages, and the minute we were in the air, fell into a deep sleep for the entire duration. On the way back, she didn't sleep, but may have become the only person in the history of the world to be interested in the safety card.

Anyway, flight was a success, and after a minor farce getting out of the airport (rugby team getting in the way, my dad losing the car parking ticket, trolley with a mind of its own) we were on our way to Mumbles. Which is fab! It's a very beautiful place, and I reckon that everyone should go immediately. Although not all at once, it would get very busy and unpleasant.

The Baby has loved being surrounded by family all weekend, and so did I as it meant I hardly had to look after her at all! It seems to have been good for her, as she's had a bit of a developmental spurt I think, especially with the talking. The child never shuts up! And we had a "Dada". We were very proud, and she looked a bit confused as to why we all started clapping. No "Mama" yet though. Honestly, I let that child chew on my boobs for 6 months and she can't even say my name first? Ungrateful bugger.

She also seems to have grown some hair. Although it is so fine and blonde she still looks bald.

Back to reality now. Boo.

Waiter, There's A Fly In My Plate Of Crud..

You know, when restaurant staff come over and do that "Is everything OK with your food" thing, do you think they're really expecting the answer "No, actually, this is complete rubbish"? They should, if they see me coming. I seem to have become a serial complainer. In the past, if food i've ordered is horrible, I tended to just leave it but tell the staff it was great anyway. Now, I am very much of the mind that I have spent my (OK, Husband's) hard-earned money on this, so if it is not edible there will be hell to pay. We went for a pre-flight pub lunch on Friday, and I was overcome with school-dinner nostalgia and ordered Toad in the Hole. What I got seemed to be sausages in cake. That's not so good. Even I, who is laughably bad at traditional British cooking, couldn't go that wrong.
I started to wonder if it was a bad omen for the weekend.......

(It wasn't. But more later)

Home!

All home from Wales! We've had a lovely weekend away with all the family, and a very mischievous but gorgeous baby. Tired now. Sent Husband out for a Chinese. Yum. Tales of The Baby's first flight and other adventures will follow tomorrow.

A Side Order of Muppet

It's official, The Baby will eat anything. Alarming moment today, whilst Husband was watching Top Gear on Dave and I was on ScaryParenting.com - I glanced up to see something orange in The Baby's mouth. After double-teaming her to prise her jaws open, we discovered that it was the nose from Husband's novelty Animal slippers, which she had managed to pull off and put in her mouth, all without us noticing. Moral of the story: small babies + comedy slippers from a supermarket + easily distracted parents = bad things.

I have that fantastic light-head, new haircut feeling today. We both decided our hair was out of control, so went for a family hair-chop today. Sadly, The Baby could not participate, as she is still bald. And toothless, like a little old man. While in town I went to yell at HSBC, but they were most unmoved and managed to make me feel very irresponsible for going slightly overdrawn twice in 6 months. So I still hate them and think it's very unfair, but cannot be bothered to do anything further. Apart from whinge about it to everyone I know, and probably a few people I don't, via the magic of the internets.

You won't be hearing from me for a couple of days, as we are off on a mass family jaunt to Wales. First plane journey for The Baby! So not looking forward to the moment when her ears pop.

Have a great weekend everyone!

Still a Domestic Goddess...

More of the house got cleaned today! Yay me. Especially one of the bathrooms (I used to think it was posh to have more than one bathroom, now I realise it's just more toilets to clean), as it had my rage at HSBC vented upon it. They have charged me £23 for going £23.31 overdrawn for one day! Grr. Might go into a branch and yell at someone tomorrow. Someone that works there, not just a random customer.

Anyway, yes, been good again today, and have even drafted Husband into the effort, seeing as how he had an unexpected day off today. We now feel quite smug and proud of ourselves. We did have a bit of domesticity fail at teatime though - I asked him to heat up a tub of chicken dinner for The Baby's tea. I came down to the kitchen to be told "Your chicken dinner looks like mash", at which I got in a huff and told him in a very affronted tone of voice that I was sorry my cooking didn't match up to his high standards of presentation. On closer inspection, it turned out it was actually, in fact, mash, which I had put into a tub and not changed the label on it. The Baby still ate it. Which is not surprising as she has eaten EVERYTHING today. Went for lunch with a friend and her baby today, and The Baby wolfed down a rice cake, a jar of pasta and half a banana (and then tried to get the other half of the banana and my chips), in the time it took the other baby to delicately nibble her way through one rice cake. She is a big pig. Can't think where she gets that from.

Industrious Mammy!

Check me out! I've been doing cleaning and cooking and everything! Instead of spending my evening watching One Born Every Minute (it's Sky+'d, I think this show may be one of new favourite things) and faffing around on ScaryParents.com like I normally do, I have been cleaning my kitchen, tidying my bedroom, and making homemade pasta sauce for The Baby. I have done this mainly out of a feeling of shame about how disgusting and chaotic I let my house get. Been visiting a friend today who has a baby about the same age as mine, and a beautiful, pristine house. And she takes her baby to do interesting things, and is studying at the minute too! I am in awe of my amazing, efficient and industrious friends, and ashamed of my lazy, messy self. New leaf being turned over, right now. I am going to become Super Housewife. Never again will my ironing pile become as tall as I am. Never again will my kitchen lino become obscured by bits of banana and blobs of pureed sweet potato. I will polish surfaces, scrub floors and plump pillows until my home is a haven of domestic bliss.

Let's see how long this lasts.....

Too Hard!

Blogging, that is. Not motherhood. Although that's no walk in the park either.

Can't think of anything to write today, other than The Baby is still cheeky, still poorly and growing ever more mobile. I've also not been very bad today, other than not taking her out for a walk in the beautiful sunshine because I couldn't be bothered. I remembered all of her meals and bottles, changed her nappy every two hours without fail, and did lots of playing. I even read her a story, although I changed the words because I've read it too many times. She won't know. She was only trying to eat the book anyway.

Will try and be more interesting soon.