The funny side to life as a working single Mum. My stories of embarrassing escapades, toddler tantrums and great expectations.
Showing posts with label mummy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mummy. Show all posts
Monday, 8 July 2013
Why I am a great Mum!
I have decided to start each week with a proclamation of exactly why I am actually a great Mum and my achievements over the past week! Now, please don't think that I am bragging about how amazing I am; I just figured after all the self doubt and guilt we feel as Mothers it is about time we started praising ourselves. After all, being a Mum can be a pretty thankless job at times.
So, last week I have been a great Mum because of the following:
1.) Each night I had a relaxing bath with Ethan before bed.
2.) We took Ethan to a friend's 2nd Birthday party where he ran around and played like crazy, loving the attention.
3.) I cooked nutritious and tasty meals for the family.
4.) I went to work for long hours, including extra tuition and events which helps provide for Ethan and his future.
5.) I spent Sunday with Ethan and Charlie at the park where he ate ice cream, playing on the swings and running barefoot on the grass.
6.) I breastfed Ethan everyday, even at night when totally exhausted from long work days.
7.) When not with him, I left Ethan in a safe and caring environment with people he knows and trusts.
8.) I cuddled and kissed him everyday.
9.) I told him I love him everyday.
10.) I made sure he was as happy as possible everyday.
I am sure we all have our own list of things we do all the time which make us great parents. Why not write yours?
Ethan is my reason behind all of the choices I make. Sometimes I just need to remind myself that I have made the right choices for my family.
Thursday, 23 May 2013
Even superheroes struggle some mornings.
As the day has progressed I have been busy and distracted of course but still looking forward to getting home to my boys. Still yearning for home.
Days like these are less frequent now but some mornings I still feel overcome with guilt, like a shroud sharply tightened, catching my breath the best I can. More than guilt though is the longing on these mornings. The longing to just wake up and be with my Son, the longing to give him everything, the longing to just be Mummy.
At least I am off next week, so while I have lots of work to get through at home, the Mummy days I long for are close in sight.
Sunday, 21 April 2013
A full time working, full time Mother.
Over the past week I have breastfed Ethan on a busy 7am bus ride, taught a couple of hundred teenagers in total and pushed the buggy in heels, laptop and all on my back! I have laughed, cried and felt exhausted and elated. I will quickly explain the heels. Work trousers too big since buying two months ago. Didn't realise. No other trousers. Heels only shoes to stop trousers dragging on floor. Back to my week anyway. Teaching was great and I feel challenged and happy to be back at it, especially as I feel I am really making a difference on my new students. Ethan has settled into nursery and enjoyed time with my Mum but has been so poorly with teething and a two week long cough and cold. He hasn't been himself and has just wanted cuddle after cuddle. This is the terrible bit of being at work; I am not there 24/7 to give cuddles. I have cried when Ethan cried at my leaving him but had to pull myself together to teach year 9. This is a positive of teaching, in that there is no time to wallow. Your students are the priority and your focus is on their needs.
This weekend has been a joy. Our family together just playing and cuddling. Watching Ethan learn and laugh, kissing and holding hands with my husband. Long walks in the sunshine, chips on the seafront and lazy afternoons spent with Disney. All the simple pleasures which make it all worth it.
Back to work now. I admit to feeling guilty and heart broken leaving Ethan to a horrific extent but I am still 100% Mummy. I am going to say something now which some people might not like but I have been thinking for a while: I hate the phrase 'full time Mum.' It offends me. It upsets me. It confuses me. If a Mum who stays at home is full time but a Mum who goes to work isn't then surely the working Mum a part-timer? It may be because on the brink of my return the prospect that my time with Ethan will be interrupted and limited, making me a part-time parent hurt me but I don't think it is just this. It's more than that. This is personal, political and social, reflecting all that is wrong in attitudes to the role of women. We are mothers, lovers, workers on many levels and yet there is still an imbalance here. Can society really see us as many faces on one imperfect body or are we destined to be typecast as a one woman show? On my bus journey to work this week it dawned on me that 'Shit! I'm a working Mum!' and I considered those words carefully. Just as the full time tag is problematic to me, so is the working Mum title. Don't we all work? Seriously, I have worked for my SMP the past 8 months and it was really tough. So, a Mum who stays at home past maternity leave is surely a working Mum? We are all full time workers, whether in or out of the home but most of all, we are all full time Mothers. Isn't that the most precious and important job of all, regardless of how we manage it?
Sunday, 23 December 2012
P!nk: Breastfeeding idol.
Watching her triumph of a video for her recent single 'Try' she is the same strong minded and talented woman she always was, despite being a wife and mother. What interests me more with this version of P!nk is that the woman you see is not only a mother, but a breastfeeding mother.
P!nk breastfeeding her 15 month old daughter Willow in September.
Flexible and toned in the video for 'Try.'
When I saw the photo of P!nk above published on Twitter by her husband and read her views on breastfeeding, my respect and appreciation of her as an artist and woman grew further. In an interview with Alan Carr she said a guy walked past her feeding Willow in a restaurant and made some comment that it was disgusting. P!nk's response: 'You obviously didn't get enough of this when you were young!' Brilliant! What a perfect response to an ignorant individual. I still find it shocking that anyone could consider reacting in this way. I breastfeed in public regularly and will continue to do so as long as Ethan is interested! At 5 months he shows no signs of giving it up any time soon and is welcome to continue as long as we can. I plan to return to work when Ethan is around 9 months old so we will have to adapt but we will work it out. The further along our breastfeeding journey we go, the happier I am that I was able to continue. We gain so much from our breastfeeding relationship, not just in terms of the health benefits, but our bonding experience. It is difficult to explain it fully, but while it puts the pressure on, I think there is also a part of me which likes that feeding Ethan is something only I provide. Don't think this is some kind of attack on bottle feeding Mums, it isn't. Every parent does what is best for their child and them, which deserves no judgement. Just as no person has the right to judge a breastfeeding mother in a restaurant, no one can judge those who bottlefeed.
Looking at P!nk as a mother and woman I see strength and beauty in body and mind. If she isn't a positive role model, I don't know who is. I feel as though P!nk has almost grown up alongside me, from a rebellious young woman to a wife and mother. Hopefully I still have a little rebellion still left in me yet!
Wednesday, 28 November 2012
Up in arms.
For some unknown reason I switched on to 'Lorraine' one morning this week while having breakfast as Ethan played in his gym. What I was faced with was four women discussing arms. Yes, you heard me right. Arms. In a deadly serious tone, as though they were finding a soution to world conflict or poverty. Apparently ladies, getting the correct size, style and tone of arm is the key to a happy Christmas and I dare say a happy life. Shit the bed, if I had known that I wouldn't have spent years searching for true love, good friends and building a family. I also wouldn't have bothered learning anything, teaching or writing. Cheers for the enlightenment Lorraine and chums.
I understand that obviously body image, dieting and exercise are topics of conversation on these shows but with a focus on arms it is more comedy gold than anything else. After watching a few minutes I decided to bake a massive cake with a shit load of sugar and butter in. That's my Christmas fucked then. If only I had paid more attention to Lorraine. Imagine the headlines: 'Daytime telly saved my arms AND family Christmas.' I've missed my chance but there is still time for your arms to be saved.
As a Mummy mate said when I told her about the feature: 'Lorraine can cock right off.' Couldn't have put it better myself.
Disclaimer: this is written for entertainment purposes and is in no way a personal attack against Lorraine and the gang.
Tuesday, 23 October 2012
Keep Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'
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| Knackered from the rolling! |
The most challenging part of the whole thing was probably getting it attached to the door frame in the first place. It seems baby equipment really isn't built to be easy to make or set up at all. The pram/car seat/transformer is the worst, with its secret buttons and straps and parts it really is one of the biggest challenges of having a baby!
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| Woooooooooooooah! |
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| Happy in this awesome number! |
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| Modelling my new H&M outfit! |
Monday, 22 October 2012
Diablo Jo's Rockabilly Accessories: Treats for Mamma and Bambino!
In writing this blog I realised I have missed one thing which is probably more important to me than I like to make out: fashion. To clarify, when I say fashion I mean unique and original ideas and creations which make you look and feel good, not TOWIE inspired dullness. I like to think that I am far too interesting and clever to be bothered about silly things like clothes, make-up and hair but the truth is I am a girl and I like pretty things! Like I say to the teenage girls I teach, there is nothing wrong with enjoying these things but this doesn't stop you being a creative, intelligent individual! My style, if you can call it that, varies between poetic bohemian (ha!) to indie comic book geek to 50s rock 'n' roll. The later of the three is my favourite look but the one I have always struggled with. To embody real 50s glamour you need to maintain yourself well, from your hair to your nails it works best when you make an effort. Sadly, I don't have great nails and wear my hair short. While I love having short hair and think it suits me, it doesn't quite fit the 50s chic look. Here is where the rock 'n' roll comes in!
While pregnant I came across some outstanding headscarves which provide the perfect solution to my hair woes. Designed to tie in a typically retro style headscarves come in a range of cute and kitsch designs, from classic flowers to edgy tattoo inspired skulls, each and every one stunning! Throughout my pregnancy and beyond I wear Diablo Jo's creations, not only to help on bad hair days but to make a simple jeans and t-shirt combo far more glamorous! Since finding Diablo Jo's I have found an array of wonderful hair accessories which are just beautiful but the latest addition to the range is 'Bambino Diablo' which includes fabulous pieces for your little rocker! The skirts for girls are gorgeous and I can imagine they would make any little girl look and feel amazing. As for the boys there is an inspired range of beautifully crafted bibs in the same designs as the headscarves. Designed to make your little dude look similar to a cowboy they hold so much more style value than the usual dribble catchers without losing their practical value.
These are two of my favourite designs from the Bambino range:
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| Anchors Away! |
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| Skulls and Roses! |
Wednesday, 17 October 2012
A lesson in poo-cabulary!
Recently Ethan had a bad case of trapped wind which nothing seemed to fix. It just stayed inside. After two days of praying to the Poo Gods we finally had action and it was everywhere! Honestly, my prayers were well and truly answered with that bad boy!
When comparing poo notes with another Mum I was introduced to her term for these poo explosions of a poo-nami! Brilliant! Poo-nami has possibly become my favourite of the poo-cabulary! It is simple, clever and funny with all the makings of a perfect play on words which I hope will one day be included in the Oxford English Dictionary.
Sadly, these poo-cabulary additions to the English Language will just have to stay here in my own personal Dictionary. For now at least.
Poo-cabulary:
Poo-aholic
1: one who feels compulsively the need to talk about poo.
2: one who likes studying and talking about poo to the excess.
Poo Gods
1: the Being perfect in power, wisdom, and goodness who is worshipped as creator and ruler of the universe
2: a being or object believed to have more than natural poo attributes and powers and to require human worship.
2: a being or object believed to have more than natural poo attributes and powers and to require human worship.
3: a person or thing of supreme poo value.
4: a powerful ruler of poo.
4: a powerful ruler of poo.
Poo-nami
1: a great wave produced especially by submarine poo movement or volcanic arse eruption.
Sunday, 23 September 2012
Lazy days, tattooing days and an impending birthday.
As I approach my 28th birthday tomorrow I realise it has taken me some time to reach the point where I am truly happy. Not drunk happy with false smiles, not plastic happy with forced hope, but happy. Smiling so the wrinkles show happy, wearing no make up and baggy PJ bottoms happy, really happy. I can credit this whole heartedly to my husband, who came out of nowhere and shook me into reality, our reality. If someone had told me that I would be sharing my 28th birthday with my 23 year old husband, who I sang Shania Twain to at our reception in a 50s diner while 16 weeks pregnant with our now 7 week old son I would have at least laughed out loud. Here I am though, laying in bed with the most straightforward happiness available; a wonderful husband and beautiful baby boy beside me. Nothing breeds smiles like days like these.
Just to clarify I am not knocking drunk happy. That can still be fun, even for a wrinkly Mummy like me!
I also sit here with a new tattoo to share. Yesterday as a birthday present we both went and had tattoos together. Charlie ended up having a disaster piece repaired, which we had created on a previous lazy Sunday pre-marriage, pre-pregnancy. I, however, am now the proud owner of a gorgeous pink and blue cupcake with 'Ethan' on the band. I am sure in years to come our son will find this highly embarassing and question what his arrival has to do with cakes! Mummy loves Ethan, Mummy loves cakes. Simple. While being tattooed yesterday the in laws looked after Ethan and he was perfectly behaved of course! This was the first time (other than an essential blood test) that I have been out without Ethan in tow and the first time me and Charlie have been out just the 2 of us since his birth. Some may find it strange but getting tattooed was the perfect way to spend this precious time as a couple. We have both always shared a love of tattoo art, Charlie is a tattoo artist himself and one of our first points of contact was when comparing ink. I can see more tattoo outings on the cards in the future.
My new tattoo by Darren at Thundertats, Leigh-on-Sea.
While being tattooed and chatting to the artist he said something which I have been thinking about since: 'a tattoo is the only thing you will take to your grave.' This may sound depressing but it made me reflect on our life and really consider how our family memories which will be tattooed on our hearts and sleeves are the only thing which matters. Do I care if we never afford to buy a house? Am I upset if we can't buy expensive clothes? Does material gain interest me? Not so much. I knew this all along but I think the impending birthday might be getting to me and making me realise that as I head closer to 30 I really haven't done too badly for myself!
Friday, 21 September 2012
Membership of the Mummy gang!
One of the most surprising things about pregnancy is the feeling of drifting away from your friends who don't have children, particularly those who are single or not living with partners. Throughout my pregnancy I somehow got it into my head that my close childless friends were excluding me from our social circle with no consideration for my feelings or current state. In fact our friendships were evolving. I was becoming a parent and that is at least a little scary for everyone involved!
Whereas before pregnancy me and my flatmate would think nothing of a cheeky vino to accompany a 'Glee' marathon, I was now necking pints of milk and popping packs of Rennie in a desperate attempt to cure my heartburn. Instead of sharing hangover days on the sofa together, I was feeling rough due to morning sickness. Rather than shopping for a little black number and heels for a night out I was simply searching for underwear and shoes which would actually stretch round my ever growing arse and feet. While I felt left out from the life I had previously led, I didn't once consider that my friends may have felt left out of my new life. I was changing before their eyes not only physically but emotionally and socially. I never considered that maybe this new version of me was a shock to my friends. Would they ever have things back the way they were or were we growing apart so far it was beyond repair?
As my flatmate is also one of my best friends I would like to add that we lived with her for the first 6 months of my pregnancy and I feel truly sorry for her! I cannot imagine living with a pregnant woman unless you are responsible for getting her in that state to begin with! It must have been frustrating, tiring and at times at least a little bit boring. However, for me at least, I feel incredibly blessed to have shared my pregnancy with her as the second she held our son and he heard her voice there was a clear connection unlike with other friends. Now I know that Ethan will build strong relationships with his surrogate Aunties and Uncles but with said friend it was as though he recognised her voice and had an awareness of who she is and that she is part of his world.
Close to the end of pregnancy we attended antenatal classes and I must admit I had never been too keen on the prospect of Mummy friends. To be honest, before the classes I was aprehensive as to how much I would have in common with these new potential friends beside the fact that we were all shagging at similar times. I couldn't have been more wrong. The second I arrived at the first class I realised I was desperate to meet new friends and a little bit nervous. Would they like me? Would they think my tattoos were weird? Would they see me as Mum material? As soon as I started chatting to the other women my nerves disappeared as soon as I found myself giggling discussing constipation and pile cream over a cup of tea. The thing was though, as I got to know these Mums more we began chatting about festivals, music, books, normality! Not surprisingly really these Mums were normal!
After the final class I went home so excited and feeling a bit of a geek at the prospect of new Mummy friends but then realised I have regressed back to school. What if they don't call? What if they meet up without me? What if they don't want to be friends? What if their baby doesn't want to be friends with my baby? Oh dear. When I received my first text from another Mummy, just as I was about to send one I was probably too excited. I had been accepted into an exclusive club of women, much to the amusement and piss taking of my husband. He spent some time quoting the 'friend, football friend' episode of 'The Inbetweeners' with 'friend, Mummy friend, antenatal friend.' He may have been taking the piss but he had a point.
Since having our babies the antenatal gang have been amazing! Supporting each other and laughing together, there is a real feeling of comradeship between the group which is a blessing, not only for me but for my non-baby friends. It means they are spared the cracked nipple and lack of sleep speeches and can just enjoy the bouncing and beautiful part of motherhood and regain a little bit of their friend back.
I underestimated the power of the Mummy gang until I became a part of one and would suggest all Mums to be get a membership to one sharpish! It stops you feeling totally mental and makes you feel more human, if only briefly. Never forget, Mummies are people too!
Thursday, 13 September 2012
From Birth to Breast.
The best word to describe the past 6 weeks is intense. Physically and emotionally intense. In some ways it doesn't feel that long since I was faced with the shock that I had just given birth to our 10lbs 13oz baby boy in our bedroom without pain relief! Now, I don't bring this up to boast but to this day it all feels a little surreal when people ask about the labour and I give this answer. The looks and comments I get are priceless and never fail to entertain me. Most of the time however, it feels as though Ethan has always been here and I have no idea what I did before he arrived. It is as though I have spent my whole life, in particular 9 and a half months waiting and preparing for something which you can never really prepare for fully.
I may have prepared my body, my mind and home to some extent but I certainly didn't prepare my breasts for what was to come. I was always determined to breastfeed, as my mother did; it seemed the natural choice. I read the books, undertook the training and assumed it would just happen. How naive I was. I figured that breastfeeding would only hurt if you did it 'wrong.' What I hadn't prepared myself for is how hungry babies are, how comforting my boobs are and how much strength of suck a newborn has!
For the first 3 weeks of breastfeeding at least I can only compare our son to a snappy turtle or one of those teethy animal heads on sticks kids get from museums or the zoo. It got to the point where the sight of the deadly jaws of my beautiful boy approaching my nipple filled me with genuine fear and bought many tears to my eye! Breastfeeding is an incredibly natural process, with practise and support. Thankfully after 6 weeks we have managed to settle into breastfeeding but it hasn't been without a lot of tears (on both sides of the breast), guilt and the odd bottle of aptamil. Some will judge those who bottle feed, whether it be the odd bottle or completely but my opinion on this is make your own choice, keep judgement to yourself and understand that the most valuable thing for a baby is a happy Mummy.
Until I gave birth myself I never imagined there would be such heated debate and in my opinion, ill treatment of women for their feeding choices of their own children. I have made my feeding choice for our son but it is just that; my choice. It is not the choice of the health visitor who tells me I am a 'failure' at breastfeeding (actual words) nor is it the choice of the multitude of leaflets which shout BREAST IS BEST over and over again. I may have managed to continue breastfeeding but I don't blame or judge any woman who has stopped breastfeeding at any point. It is hard work, really hard and for some it is impossible both physically and mentally to function and perform as a mother under the level or pressure and pain experienced. Think nipples bleeding while spending half an hour attempting to attach your crying baby to you only to then sit crying in pain for the next hour while they feed. Then imagine getting a 20 minute break before starting the whole process again. Over and over again. Top this with a generous dose of loneliness (as you are the only one able to feed your child at this point) and you have some idea of whether breast is always best.
As I say, I have continued with breastfeeding but this is my personal choice and you can quote me as saying that there have been points far more difficult than labour itself. Having continued with breastfeeding the next hurdle has been feeding in public. Now I am pretty sure that in the days when my weekends (and sometimes week nights) were spent necking cocktails and shots I flashed a boob or two but doing so when sober in daytime hours is a daunting prospect for most women. My first experience of public feeding really threw me straight into it. Sitting in a lovely cafe Utopia in Southend enjoying lunch with my Mum I rapidly realised Ethan was looking a little chompy. Instead of feeding him immediately I decided to start a conversation with him to ask whether he wanted to eat and begging for a clear signal. After a few minutes of this my Mum told me that I need to make a decision, rather than Ethan. Good point. The poor boy is not a lady that lunches, he is 4 weeks old and hungry. With my muslin cloth at the ready and fingers crossed I manage to get Ethan on to the breast without any nipple flashing and not one judgemental look from staff or customers. Lucky me. It has not been unheard of for women to breastfeed their babies in public toilets. As my health visitor said today would we eat lunch in a public toilet? After all my worrying Ethan fed for less than 5 minutes which tells me he either wanted to make the experience less traumatic for me or he got stage fright!
I could probably discuss breastfeeding and the judgement and guilt placed upon women for their feeding choice for the whole blog but will just end with these words. Hot Milk. Beautiful nursing bras; disturbing company name. There is nothing hot (in the sexy sense) about my massive milk machines.
Ethan and I at 5 weeks.
Saturday, 11 August 2012
Ethan George Hadley
Ethan is healthy, happy and totally perfect. The Hadley family are overjoyed he has arrived and so proud of him already. Daddy has been so amazing at looking after Mummy and Ethan and we are very lucky to have our extended family around us helping out.
One quick thing is that I cannot stress enough just how amazing giving birth at home is and how much I would suggest trying it if possible, as obviously each pregnancy is very different. The atmosphere was relaxed, even through the pain and difficulty of labour and once Ethan was born it was lovely to have him bought straight to me in our own bed and home with everything here. I love that the first place he experienced was his home.
More at some point soon; expect home birth, bigger babies and the thoughts and feelings of a new Mummy!
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