Fixing the crocodile

I asked Charlie what he wanted to do this morning, it's Saturday and we had no definite plans. I was expecting the reply to be to go on a train or go to the park but out of the blue he said, "can we fix my crocodile Mama?".

His crocodile puppet got a rip in the inside seam a couple of weeks ago and ever since it's been sitting up on a shelf after I said I'd fix it and hadn't got round to it. So feeling guilty I sat right down and sewed it up. His smile was worth it, then after two minutes of playing he moved onto the next toy and the crocodile was left lying upside down on the floor. Toddlers huh!

This boy

 

 

This boy is smiley and cheerful and likes saying silly rhyming things.

 

This boy's conversations revolve around trains, cranes and dustbin lorries, stinky bins and rubbish dumps, his best friend, chocolate, daffodils and buses.

 

This boy loves to sit at the top of the bus, or in the window seat on the train anywhere but in a high chair or a bus stop bench.

 

This boy waves hello to the lady at the bus stop every morning and she always waves and says hello back to him.

 

This boy loves to share, it always surprises me when a little voice says "here you go mummy" and a little hand proffers a piece of rice cake or his 2nd favourite train.

 

This boy has a wonderful proud face when he achieves something tricky.

 

This boy loves swirly whirly pasta, babybel and yogurt tubes.

 

This boy will eat cucumber and carrot when forced to but says "remember mummy I don't like cucumber". 

 

This boy remembers days out from over a year ago, beaches and castles and steam trains.

 

This boy is always saying "when I'm big I'll..." does he not realise that he's already so grown?

 

This boy will be 3 in 3 weeks time - eek.


I'm linking this post up with Mandy at A Sorta Fairytale's Mama Memoirs.
 

Sunday Night Fever

It started with a cough, nothing serious, just a little cough. On Saturday it got a little chestier. Saturday night, oh my, we were awoken by that pesky cough at 3.30am, it had got deeper from lying on it through the night. The amount of coughing caused little man to be a little sick. So in he came to Mama and Daddy's bed, resolutely lying on top of Mama and not sleeping again until it was time to get up.

A busy day and calpol kept the cough and temperature at bay on Sunday. Home again and the sore throat began, a croaky poorly boy with big sad eyes cuddled up to Mama on the sofa before bedtime. Hot honey and lemon was made and calpol dispensed before bed but that pesky cough would not shift. At 11.30pm little man awoke sick from too much coughing. Daddy brought him into our bed again and I got a hot feverish body lying on top of me. Mr Bump was retrieved from the fridge and used to cool a clammy forehead. Little sweaty fingers wrapped themselves in my hair, and a hot little head snuggled into my neck. And there we stayed until morning.

Doctors, grrr. Ours has a first come first served policy when phoning up from 8am. I couldn't get through for twenty five minutes and when I did, all appointments were taken, the earliest was for 3.30pm the next day. I took a day off work, a day when really I should have been in the office, and little man perked up. Calpol and hot apple juice with lemon and honey have kept him happy, as has a new Peppa pig game on Mummy's Kindle and a walk in the glorious spring sunshine to get some fresh air. Nap time came around and when he woke up he was immediately sick again (his bedding has never had so much washing in so short a time), so more cuddles on the sofa and hot apple juice to drink.

To top it off we've not been able to use the bath/shower for four days, not good when really all I want to do is dump a sickly, sweaty toddler into a haven of warm water and bubbles. Instead we have sponge baths by the sink and wet wipe rub downs. Plumber has yet to appear.

So not a good start the week, I hope yours was better. I have Pilates tonight and will be keeping my fingers crossed that our bed stays ours tonight and the cough begins to subside.

A day in the life

I love reading these types of posts on other blogs and haven't done one in a while so thought I'd capture a couple of days in the life of a working mama whilst Charlie is 2 yrs 11 months and my office has finally moved to Piccadilly.

Monday - Hubs and I alternate nursery drop offs and pick ups through the week and as I collect C on a Monday I have to be in work early so I can leave at 4pm.

The alarm goes off at 5.30am and I shower and dress quietly so I don't wake my boys. Packed lunch today is yesterday's leftover spaghetti so I chop a salad and am pleased I made a jar full of homemade Caesar dressing last week as there's plenty left. I'm already running late so no time to make coffee. As I leave T is just getting up and I can hear stirring in C's room. Some days he's wide awake by now and I get a toddler cuddle before I go, but not today.

As I walk past the bus stop on the way to the station a serendipitous bus pulls in so I jump on and make it in time for the 6.38 train, which is delayed and then cancelled. I read the BBC headlines on my phone as I wait get the next train instead. I read my book on the train, May We Be Forgiven, it's this week's choice for my work book club and I need to finish it in time for the meeting on Thursday.

At London Bridge I wait on a platform looking up at the Shard and then step aboard a train to Charing Cross. I go past the London Eye, the river and Big Ben, I love my new commute! I walk to Piccadilly through Trafalgar Square, it's early and quiet. As I failed to pack a coffee or breakfast I stop at Eat to pick up a latte and some bircher muesli.

At work I'm the first in and spend a quiet hour answering emails and updating copy for a competition page that needs prioritising. As my colleagues start arriving we chat about our weekends and log on to the MDS website to track a team member running in the Marathon des Sables (6 races in the desert in 7 days), he's doing well and is in the top 20%. My desk buddy and our team assistant has just got back from an American holiday, so the morning is filled with talk about San Francisco and New York, in my head I mentally work out when I would next be able to do this and reckon it would at least be another 8 years...

I have a couple of meetings to discuss some leaflet printing and the content for this month's newsletter, the rest of the day is spent writing copy and briefing web pages. The news of Margaret Thatcher's death and the subsequent books that will be published come in throughout the afternoon and we also discuss who we think will win this year's Women's Prize for Fiction.

At 4pm I leave the office and get the trains back home to collect C from nursery. He's had an accident, a bitten lip while being silly and running under a table. The lip is swollen into what looks like a blood blister, the nursery teacher says if it pops then there will be a lot of blood so to keep an eye on it. They'd already put an ice pack on it and there wasn't anything else we could do. I sign an accident form and help C into his coat. The lip doesn't seem to affect his mood and he happily says goodbye to all his friends.

We walk to the bus stop and he tells me about his day, they went in the garden but came back in for lunch, he painted and played with his best friend (he'll have done much more than this but that is all he'll tell me). On the bus we go upstairs and sit at the front, C loves shouting out everything he sees but hates it when I suggest he pretends to be the driver "the driver's downstairs mama and we're upstairs".

At home C takes off his coat and hangs it on his peg. I remind him to take off his shoes and he puts them away too. I make him a yogurt milkshake whilst he grabs a babybel from the fridge and is immensely proud that he can open it by himself. We snuggle on the sofa and watch some beebies, then I give him an early bath and get his jammies on.

I've got a Pilates class tonight, so when Daddy gets home he's the one who reads C his bedtime story (Thomas the Tank Engine's Murdoch) whilst I change into my gym gear. My friend picks me up and we drive to the dance studio. This is the first class of a 6 week course and it feels great to be out doing something on an evening. We have a great time and I get home by 9.30am. T and I then watch some Arrested Development and then it's time for bed and more reading of  May We Be Forgiven.

Tuesday - It's my day to take C to nursery so I get a bit of a lie in. T leaves at 6.15am and C wakes (and therefore I get up) at 6.30am. We have a morning hug and I fix him a milkshake. His lip is looking much better, though still a little swollen. He's really into singing at the moment, so after I explain that we shouldn't sing Jingle Bells in April, we decide to sing Hickory Dickory Dock, he gets really involved, giggling at the 2nd and 3rd verses and repeating it over and over.

Whilst sitting on the potty we sing Hot Cross Buns and whilst getting dressed it's Miss Polly. C then watches some Peppa Pig on the TV (he's learnt to pause, start and return to the menu on our DVD player) whilst I have a shower. As a treat I let him pick one of his Easter chocolates, he picks a rabbit and demolishes whilst I'm getting ready, I leave a wipe for him to clean his hands and mouth after he's finished and as he hate's having sticky fingers he uses it perfectly. I wear a new pink cardigan which is way more frilly then I remember it being in the shop and as I'm feeling full of energy from the Pilates I get some housework done, a quick tidy, washing up and laundry on.

It's drizzling today so we walk down to nursery in the rain. I let him pick which way we go and he waves good morning to the lady at the bus stop who always greets him. At nursery we hang his hat, gloves and coat on his peg and he gives me a big hug goodbye. I leave him deciding what he's going to have for breakfast and asking when his best friend will arrive.

I start writing this post on the train into work  and then walking through Trafalgar Square I see Dr Who's Tardis suspended from a crane with a woman inside. At first I think it's something for the tourists, but then realise that they actually are filming Dr Who! Jumping up and down beneath the Tardis is Matt Smith and it's Jenna-Louise Coleman hanging out of the Tardis' door. I stop and take photos and a film which includes a Japanese tourist asking me what's going on. Then a squad of actors dressed in U.N.I.T uniforms march in and I phone T who is madly jealous!

At work it's little quiet as two of our team are out today. I have a weekly catch up meeting with web designer and a publisher meeting, then spend the rest of the day pretty much the same as yesterday getting assets and pages ready for our monthly newsletter. I get two signed off nice and early which is good.

At lunch time a friend from work and I go back to Trafalgar Square to see if they're still filming and amazingly they are! The crowd around the Tardis is now massive, and randomly we get asked by people from Capital FM if we would like record sound bites for their breakfast show, we decline.

After work all public transport works perfectly for me and I'm home in time to spend time with C before bed. He gives me a huge hug when I get in and then proceeds to show me a catalogue of Thomas the Tank toys he wants for his birthday. Daddy helps him clean his teeth and then I read him a story in bed.

I make a quick dinner, stuffed mushroom, garlic bread and broccoli and then T and I watch some more Arrested Development as I write this post.

Easter Weekend 2013 - part two

Easter weekend 2013 part 1

Having planned to have a quiet weekend at home this year, we've actually been really busy. Here's some of what we've been up to.

Charlie's nursery closed for a half day teacher training on Thursday, so C and I went for a long walk in the park, made a big swirly train track and did some sink play. On Saturday we swapped eggs with Nana and Grandad, saw T's brother and had lunch at Byrons.

On Saturday we went with C's friend little T to do an Easter Egg Hunt at The Horniman Museum. The boys had to find yellow flags which they loved doing. They'd spot one and run off to see what baby animal picture was underneath. Each flag had a letter, once you'd got all the letters and unscrambled the anagram you could hand your sheet in to claim a crème egg. We also saw some bunnies and sheep and went down to the aquarium to see the fish.

Today (Easter Sunday) we decided to go for a family trip to Ightham Mote, a National Trust house 40 mins drive away in Kent. It was really cold, so walking around the stately home kept us warm and C was really well behaved. He then had a run in the gardens and loved the waterfall which he described as 'massive'.

The reality of what I've lost

12 days after the ERPC operation I had after my silent miscarriage I am physically better. The bleeding is slowing and I'm no longer taking pain meds for the occasional cramps I still get. However the emotional side effects are still emerging and today it struck me what it is that I've lost. It wasn't just a 12 week foetus that was removed from me, it was:

- A life time of love and nurturing, of birthdays and schools and university and jobs.

- A September birthday and the chance to be one of the oldest in their year group. 

- A nine month maternity break from work (during our busy Christmas period). 

- The opportunity to lessen the guilt of being a full time working Mum to my first son before he starts infant school as there is no longer a maternity leave to allow him to only be a part time nursery attendee. 

- The widening age gap between my first and second born.
- The timing of this birth with other family announcements. 

- The peace of mind of only ever experiencing a good pregnancy and not being on future tenterhooks at every tiny pregnancy discomfort or symptom. 

It feels like my life has split down a different road, chaos theory in full blown Technicolor. The plans and hopes and dreams I had, have been ripped away to be replaced with a much much harder road to travel, the heartache I have experienced and the heartache I know I have to come are almost unbearable. 

And just right now I have no positive end paragraph, people say time will help but how can time help when the one thing I thought I'd have was a lifetime with this little one? 

Toddler day out in London

After the rollercoaster of the last week and a half I decided that my son and I needed a Mummy-Charlie day out. So having gone back to work for the first time on Thursday, I kept Friday as a holiday day and took my boy for some toddler fun in London.

We went to The London Transport Museum for Tom's birthday at the start of the month and got given a free annual pass, so because he had enjoyed it so much I took the boy back to look at all the trains and buses.

My new office is on the 6th floor of a gorgeous building in Piccadilly, so after visiting the museum we went to see my colleagues. Charlie loved the view through the window, in particular the massive cranes just outside and the fact that he could see the London Eye. We then bought a new Thomas book (Alfie the Excavator) and read it and did jigsaw puzzles in the café.

A long bus ride, train home and walk in the park have made my little lad super tired and he fell fast asleep when we got home, hopefully dreaming of trains and cranes.

I love it that London is right on my doorstep and C has got to an age where we can really enjoy a day out together. Plus, apart from lunch and the book, the whole day cost me nothing and kept my mind from those dark thoughts.

Miscarriage - my coping techniques

Today, six days after I found out about my silent miscarriage, I stumbled across this amazingly upbeat post on Netmums from a woman who has had a far worse time then me and it got me thinking about coping techniques. So I've put together a plan with the idea that as each step gets ticked off I will feel one step closer to getting back to me again. Some of it I've already done, but it feels right to write it as if I was back at the beginning again.

- Step 1 - Take the first few days to grieve. Cry, eat chocolate, keep topped up on pain meds. Read about miscarriage online and take comfort from other women's experiences. Writing down the whole story was the first thing I did that made me feel a tiny bit better. I've re-read that blog post many many times, it's a comfort to re-live the events in an orderly manner rather then have them bouncing around. I haven't yet been able to read it without a few tears, but it feels good and more in control then just letting those powerful memories overpower me.

- Step 2 - Take the time to let your body adjust. It's terribly cruel that straight after the operation outwardly you look no different. My bump was still there, large and hard and I read that it could take at least 4 weeks for it to disappear. On day five it lost the hardness and although still there it is already smaller. The winter coat I could only do up the top button on fits again. I want to get back to being fit and healthy again so have signed up for a 6 week Pilates course starting in 2 weeks time

- Step 3 - Don't feel guilty about enjoying the things you've missed. There's a balance to find to help feel normal again. Having coffee is a nice to have, I'm not drinking as much as I did pre-pregnancy but buying a full latte rather then a decaf now feels like a treat. The house had got into a bit of a state, so I'm embracing all the chemicals I'd been avoiding whilst pregnant and having a spring clean. Even catching up on the blog posts I'd missed was good and I've starting dipping into my own blog at random to discover memories of Charlie that I had forgotten. There's also a bottle of red waiting for when I feel ready.

- Step 4 - Take this time to focus on you. I've mentioned Pilates and I've booked a hair cut for tomorrow. One big issue for me is that without the baby I can't bear to wear any of my maternity clothes or the things I wore to disguise the bump at work. So I am going to buy some in-betweeny clothes, not maternity in cut but a bigger size whilst I wait (and work) for my tummy to shrink back down. These can also been seen as an investment because when we cross that pregnancy bridge again (and we will once we can face it)  I will have some larger sized clothing to wear in the stage before needing maternity clothes. Even just looking at clothing sites online has given me a mini project to focus on as I decide which colours and looks to go for.

- Step 5 - Read a good book. Reading is a big thing for me but it's also incredibly relaxing if you're facing time alone as you adjust to your loss. I'm reading Ada's Rules  because it's what happened to be on my shelf, but am finding a lot of comfort in it. The story of a large American lady trying to lose weight is uplifting, takes my mind off my own life and is also inspirational as she also has a goal to reach. My favourite tip from the book so far has been 'Fake it to Make it', until everything feels better again, I will put on a smile and pretend that it already is.

- Step 6 - Start making contact with friends, family and colleagues. When this first happened the only people I could bear to see face to face were my husband and son. Email, text and FB messaging have been a good way to tell the news. We've selected the people we tell and I can take a deep breath before reading their replies, or stop and come back to it later when I feel strong enough. One week after we first found out I'm now tentatively making plans to face people. I've been in touch with work, and will go back for a one day week this Thursday, I'm picking dates 2 or 3 months away to meet up with friends who live a long way away and am tentatively organising a play date for the weekend.

Recovering - one day at a time

It's four days since my ERPC operation and I'm starting to feel a little more like me again. We're taking it one day at a time and there's still some big emotional mountains to climb, but right now I'm skirting around them and concentrating hard on getting through each day.

To add to the confusion around the miscarriage I had to return to hospital this morning for an anti-D injection. My blood results came back as neither rhesus D positive or negative and have been sent on for further analysis. To be safe I had the jab anyway just in case I am negative and it could affect a future pregnancy. It took all my strength to revisit the hospital so soon and not breakdown. I sat in the same two waiting rooms and saw the same nurse as before, and although it was only four days ago, I was able to realise emotionally how far I have come, yes there were a few tears when I first sat down but I wiped them away and pulled it together. This time the EPAU had at least three women who looked how I had looked six days ago, I wanted to say to them that they will recover and get better, but of course I couldn't, I read my book and tried to keep my mind clear and the threatening tears away.

I've now had time to reflect on the 12 weeks of pregnancy before the miscarriage and how they had taken their toll on me. It was a bad pregnancy. I felt queasy and tired all the time, my skin dried out, I couldn't brush my teeth without gagging and there was a constant fog on my brain, but I also thought I'd get through it, that when I was safely into the 2nd trimester I would look back on the bad times and think that it was all worth it. Now my skin is (rather ironically) looking radiant, my brain is tick tick ticking over and I am enjoying being able to eat anything from the fridge without  throwing up. The big emotional mountain here is what happens if I get pregnant again and go through the same symptoms? However this mountain is in the distance and I've turned my back on it for now. Other mountains looming are how will I cope in September when I'm still at work and not on maternity leave, and a rather close one, how will I cope going back to work and having a tricky conversation come up?

Facebook is a bit of a minefield, it's been hard to see pregnant friends complaining about Braxton hicks, posting week by week updates and seeing the photos of the little girl born the day I had my baby removed (particularly as she is wearing the same baby-gro Tom gave me on Mother's Day, which took place four days after our baby had died but we still weren't aware).

I am finding a lot of comfort in reading the miscarriage and loss chat boards on NetMums. Even though I'm not participating in them, it is comforting to read the advice and success stories from women who have gone on to have a happy healthy pregnancy afterwards. One member wrote a wonderful quote:

"No one will ever know how much I love you, because you are the only one who heard my heart beat from the inside"

I loved reading this as it summed up my feelings entirely and also made me realise how lucky I am that I already have a little someone who has heard my heart from the inside and who fills it up again every day. When Charlie came back home on Saturday, coping with the miscarriage stepped up a gear. Suddenly I was singing songs about goblins, covered in wet kisses and being accused that I'd fed him (horror of horrors) an orange babybel instead of a red one (I hadn't but he refused to believe me). It is the normality of cooking pancakes, walking in the park, splashing in puddles and cooking spaghetti (just like Peppa Pig) that shows me that our family can get through this, we are strong together and although we have been horribly shaken, we are not broken.