Choo choo

It seems as though this blog is coming to the end of its natural life, so I think it is time to say thank you and goodbye.

I’ve really enjoyed writing about Jack’s first year and my experiences as a new mum, and I hope he will enjoy reading it once he is older.

I will be carrying on with a private (password protected) blog, which is really for family and friends to check out what Jack is up to…if they are still interested!

Please send me a message if you would like the link and the password.

Toodle-oo! We’re off to explore the world…

You know it’s coming. You have to make a decision. Time is running out…QUICK! Just choose…and stick with it! Don’t worry if everyone else does it differently…

Yes. It’s the age-old question keeping parents awake at night…When singing “Old MacDonald has a Farm”, do you baaaaarrgggggghhhhhh like a sheep (with real-life throat gurgling baa sounds), or just sing the word “baa” sweetly? Do you actually snort through your nose like a pig or daintily trill “oink”? And if you introduce a dog, does it “woof” or “eeuuurrrrrrrruuufffff?”

And while we’re on the subject, what does an elephant do? “Pa-woooo” or “Stomp stomp stomp”? And a camel? A spider?

And how about a giraffe? Those long neck freaks. Do they even make a noise?

What if I teach Jack that a rabbit goes “tup tup tup tup” (like a sort of lip smacking/sniff) but everyone else thinks it goes “Thumpety-thump” and he’s embarrassed and all the other kids laugh and mock and he gets called rabbity Jack and comes home and blames me and we have a big fight and he moves out of home and starts drinking cider out of cans in the street?

Better late than never…hooray for team GB

Snoozing (Taken with Instagram)

The only thing that Jack could stomach. Yes, they are probably just water and cordial with some fancy wording. But they made us all feel better.

Lovely magic ice pops.

Despite an optimistic towel placement strategy, I am on my fourth change of clothes
today.

Doc said to keep offering Jack water, plain food and breastmilk, even if he can’t keep it down.

He can’t keep it down.

Poor little man seems to have a stomach bug, and hasn’t been able to keep anything down since 7.30pm last night.

He did some spectacular pukes, oh my…it’s so hard to see your baby crying and retching and so uncomfortable.

We saw the doctor this morning (lovely lovely doctor, I rang at 9am and they let me see her at 9.30am! That would never happen in England…), and she suspects
gastro.

He’s sleeping now and I’m looking and the humongous pile of laundry that has materialized overnight.

I’d like to say he ate up all of this roast pumpkin, green bean, cannellini bean and feta salad…but that would be a lie. Instead he ate bread and hummus and warily stared down the rest until it left the table. Full marks to me for effort though.

I am so very grateful that I am able to stay at home with Jack for the time being.

Grateful to my husband, who continues to work and support our little family, and grateful to my employer, who has allowed me to take up to two years of maternity leave.

I won’t pretend that the last year of being a full time mum, looking after Jack, without any family nearby, has always been easy. There were some very difficult moments (often documented on this blog), and many times I longed to drop him off at childcare and go back to work, wearing heels and a vomit-free dress.

We still have many challenging times - tantrums are just around the corner, disturbed nights continue, long hours of wondering what to do with him next, and often moments of sheer enervating boredom and futility strike as I load the washing machine/wipe the highchair/pick up toys/change a nappy/put on a bib for the gadzillionth time.

But despite worries about career, finances, intellectual health, adult interaction and lack of personal space…despite all that I am just so happy, living in the moment with my little toddler chappie, playing with him, babbling along with him, sharing in his infectious joy and energy.