Honestly surviving parenting

The accomplished underachiever

Returning to work, for most is no longer a “choice”. Cost of living has resulted in a need to be a dual income family.

I didn’t have a child until my 30’s, this meant I had achieved financial independence and made good career progression. I wasn’t prepared for the fact, none of this would help me and I would need to give some of this up temporarily.

Childcare is going to cost similar to what I can earn in a day. The government will only offer minimal childcare support before age 3. (I will avoid a rant about the House of Commons, providing a staff nursery). My employer will be hesitant to give me 3 years paid leave or allow me to reduce hours for the full 3 years.

Is it any wonder that by 3 years, we have given up career progression, become disheartened by a lack of support and learnt to live off lower incomes. The truth is the majority of us won’t return to work full-time for a few years.

Although, the above is an issue, it’s not even the main reason we don’t return full-time, before 3 years. The reason for that is being a working parent, is the hardest thing you will ever do. But what does it look like?

The alarm is set for 6.00, to give me time to get dressed first. Nevertheless, at 6.00, the alarm serenades from the other room. I have been patting you in desperation, whilst you blow raspberries and cry over the 8th nursery Illness of the month.

I picked a nursery that gives him breakfast, This will give me one less task in the morning. Yet, the toddler has been awake since 6.00 and is hungry before 8. He now thinks breakfast has 2 courses.

I try to leave 15 minutes early for nursery, but the dishwasher is showing e05, the toddler just did a poo at the dinner table and my partner has advised, my shirt is inside out (at least today, I knew before midday). We will now leave 15 minutes late.

I pull up at nursery, it’s the parents derby, I have 6 opponents. You begin unstrapping and Julie pulls in from no where rushing her straps, – no you don’t, I got here first. Bag- check, coat check, bloody hell “where is your sock?”. You are finally walking to the door, but you are neck and neck with a Susan, you cut her up on the corner, and your first to the door (you give them a cocky glance). This moment of glory is short lived because the toddler is now screaming, they don’t want you to leave. You head back to the car, guilt ridden. But now you can’t even leave as Julie is faffing and blocking the exit, FFS!!!

I switch to work mode for the next 8 hours. There are some positives to this like, warm tea, I introduce myself – not a toddler, I actually use my lists and brain for something other than house responsibilities and I didn’t go to the toilet with the door open (although due to habit, you may forget to lock it.)

On collection, I play toddler roulette, will nursery have left a poo in his pants? Will he be overtired? Will he need feeding? How many different ways will the staff hand me back the one bag, coat and toddler I gave them this morning? (I fail to understand how they double the content). I leave looking like an overloaded pack mule. The only thing that helps with this is, how big that smile is when I’m spotted.

I’ll spend the next two hours, trying to fit a days worth of love and parenting in. On sneaking from his bedroom, I’ll start the washing, pack the bags for tomorrow and tidy from the day. It’s 9pm, I’ve made it to relax time, on opening the dishwasher, I notice it reads e05 (oh f*%k).

My list is never ending and everyday I feel like I fail at adulting. I am no longer exceptional at mum duties, I am no longer phenomenal at work duties and my house no longer looks outstanding. I am fully half assed, jack of all trades and master of nothing. I try harder, I achieve more, I am more important than I have ever been, yet I am average at absolutely everything.

So for all you phenomenal people, grading average. You have minimal support, you have minimal money, you are close to tears everyday and you have your shirt on inside out, but you are so much more impressive and competent than you used to be. You are never alone, all parents are underachievers.

**please note my partner helps all of the above and we still drown, but where we both work their are days, all of this is on one of us**

A touch too intimate

Becoming a mum came with a lot of unspoken territory. This had led me to feel embarrassed, awkward or lost in worries I never prepared for. The second you become a mum, your needs come second and because of this no one covered the truth of post baby body recovery. So here I am again, to talk about the embarrassing and awkward moments with truly graphic honesty.

I’ll start by saying after seven months the majority of these areas are either improving or restored. However, it took nine months to grow him, so I’m still staring longingly at my size 10 jeans, a girl can dream. By staring, I mean getting them stuck on my thighs, every time someone compliments my weight loss.

I’ll start with being short and sweet about a few things that really surprised me.

1. It is possible to sneeze out a tampon for the first couple of months. You’ll never know if this has gone, because now you instinctively tighten when you sneeze.

2. Your feet have still not reduced enough to get into the beautiful stilettos you wore previously. Mixed evidence on if they ever will. (I’ll just pop them with the jeans.)

3. You will lose all that beautiful pregnancy hair, for some it will be clumps or patches. For me it was during having my hair coloured and washed. I’m not sure if it was me or the hairdresser that was more relieved when I wasn’t bald after the blow dry.

4. Any bearing down motion will result in a fart, these have the ability to rival both your babies and partners. I find maintaining a straight face, and continuing what you are doing until your partner stops looking, an effective coping tool, failing that blame them for their baby.

5. Now when your body needs a wee, it needs a wee. Which means if you find yourself somewhere without a toilet, you will just wet your pants (thanks M&S).

Due to the above I took the NHS up on its offer for a postpartum physio appointment. This was a completely unknown situation, so like visiting a nightclub toilet, I took my best friend. Unfortunately the appointment was to be held in a windowless clinic room, the size of a broom cupboard, so the bestie took my newborn outside.

The appointment started with simple reassuring questions, how frequently do you wet yourself? Are you able to use a tampon? Any issues controlling bowel movements and noises? As with any medical expert, I provided far too much information, for far too long a time, but she was reassuringly smiley. Shortly after I felt far more confident in the postpartum recovery process, basically spoiler alert, the five things are normal. But then the unexpected happened….

Would you be happy for me to check the area? You do not need to have this, or you can refer back in at a later time, if you would rather? The check was quickly described, I would have to kegal, whilst she played the role of a puppeteer. Now normally I would have declined this, but I was in a new mum sleep haze, confused as to if this is normal and then a simple thought hit me, I’ve never had a professional honest evaluation of this area – what an opportunity!!!

Two minutes later, I was legs akimbo, having a very thorough intimate examination, it was only at this point I suddenly panicked – “what if it’s not a good outcome?”. So I did what any self respecting woman would do, I found myself putting an unreasonable level of concentration and effort into this. I’ve never been renowned for excelling in exams, but my GCSEs would have been more impressive, had I focused this hard. So five minutes later I left with an exceeded expectations result and the Cheshire cats grin, I mean if your going to pass as exam the one where you won’t wet yourself forever, is the one that matters.

It was only a further five minutes later when my friend (mother of four), was asking me what the physio appointment was for? And advising me in shock she had never had this, did that smile get wiped off my face.

Oh sh!t! Was I meant to have declined the check?

Some intense googling and panic later, we discovered this is available for all mothers. You can even self refer.

Lesson learnt: we have all been through some serious body trauma. You will worry about the recovery and it will take time. If getting intimate with an NHS professional in a broom cupboard, is what you need for reassurance, don’t be embarrassed, there are others out there too.

The ‘ideal’ parent

I’ll be the first to admit social media has been my best friend and worst enemy, especially since becoming a parent. A perk of social media is getting a quick confidence boost from a post, with a lot of likes or comments. We are all guilty of this.

However, it also has the ability to make you compare your life with others and on a bad day, find yourself jealous.

I’ve been jealous or judged my parenting against posts of babies sleeping through, homemade crafts, the perfectly clean outfit or milestones others have hit. All of this is ridiculous, why? Because I’m also a mum who posts pictures of perfect days and moments.

It’s not that these posts are a lie, parenting is the fact you can’t describe how much you love this tiny person. You do want to show you off the beautiful smile they gave you. You do feel proud when they hit a milestone or learn a new skill. You do take pride in when they look clean and happy. However, these tiny people are also capable of giving you exceptional headaches and mentally exhausting you. So I share the above moments because I need a boost, I need a reminder I’m smashing it and I need to feel like a super mum too.

I do this because 99% of parenting moments would not make a flattering picture. It’s putting an outfit on your baby and having them stain it with orange food or sick within an hour. It’s wet wiping your own clothes because you can’t face changing again. It’s letting them just run around the house in a vest, it’s bedtime in an hour and I’m not wasting clothes. It’s staring at your child at 4.30 and both crying because your tired. It’s starting messy play at home and realising it was a mistake, so now you pay for a group and on occasion use cereal. It’s the fact tidy is the new clean. Its abandoning your homemade meals because they are screaming. It’s having down time so infrequently you post the whole event. Its taking selfies, because no one remembers to take photos of you and your baby. It’s reaching the bottom of a wash basket and finding an item you lost six months ago.

Six months ago, I would have rated my current house efforts, gym efforts, couples time and self-care as mediocre, at best. But taking into consideration that I am now a parent, these efforts aren’t mediocre at all, they are downright phenomenal. Social media is full of ideal personas, but it is also full of people that succeed and fail on a daily basis. So when you see these photos, just remember their challenges are as hard as yours, their lives have changed too and honestly each and everyone is just looking for a confidence boost.

(With all that said, if they regularly make you feel jealous or mediocre – unfollow them. Plenty more parents on the internet).

Next month I will be posting my most embarrassing mum fail, because if you can’t laugh about it, you’ll cry.

Sherlock and The sleep thief

We have reached 5 and a half months and the concept of sleep in the traditional sense is well and truly forgotten. You have realigned your expectations and now consider a good night sleep to be if you are only woken twice between 10pm and 4am.

We have faced newborn feeds, sleep regressions, moving into his own room, learning to self-soothe, teething and vaccinations. Yet, it never gets better you just change your routine and try to convince yourself it’s an improvement.

There have been times, the routine has become so confusing, we both stand awake at 3am unsure whose meant to be there. Inevitably you then debate who will stay. (This is only because you know whoever goes back to bed, gets up earlier.)

We currently face the challenge of fully waking between sleep cycles. This means he wakes irregularly and without a reason. The result is I now spend an obscene amount of time watching him try to put himself to sleep. As he is pretty new to this he has adopted, what can only be described as idiotic methods to achieve this. But here are some of my personal favourites:

The possessed hand – His own hand, creeps upward, you try multiple times to place it down, but he will manage to sneak this past you at every opportunity. When it reaches his face it will steal the dummy, tickle the face or rub the eye, whichever method will wake him up.

Fighting inner demons – his head thrashes from left to right, arms raising and falling with all his might until at last the legs launch upward with fiercesome force. No one knows who this opponent is, but he will not sleep until they have been conquered.

Plotting – hands rub together, whilst he makes a progressively louder buzzing noise. I imagine he is plotting new ways to steal my sleep.

During all this you will alternate between the nursery chair, sitting in the hall watching a camera or setting timers on your phone to go back in. Eventually you will just pray and beg for them to sleep. Unsure which technique worked you will try it all again for the next sleep.

After a particularly difficult evening Paul will always say “why does he have to do this?”. I will update him with the newest development stage. However this week he responded with “why do you always know this information, when it can’t help us.” I came to the realisation that to cope I need the reassurance of knowing this is all for a reason, whereas he just wants to know when it will be over and can he make it better. The only common ground we have here is we are tired, confused by his behaviour and unsure if we are meant to be doing anything else.

So truth be told, this month had no valuable lessons learnt. Just the realisation that knowing the above information won’t help you, but at least it will all change again in a week.

I’ve made an exceptional human being, that is already a considerably better person than me (and he still sh*ts himself). I feel I’m exceeding expectations as a mum. I make puree, I go to baby groups, I sing, I dance, my house is clean(ish) and we cuddle. But truth be told I still don’t love the person I am, I’m crankier, I take twice as long to problem solve and I rarely talk about things that aren’t babies. However, I am getting there, it’s ok to still be overwhelmed and confused.

Identity crisis

“What would you like to do?”, My mind goes completely blank. Since when did this become a hard question?

The answer to that was much simpler. The day I became a parent, I stopped making choices for myself. Food is what you have time for, clothes are selected by what is clean, wipeable and allows you up and down off the floor comfortably. Daily plans are adjusted based on the hours of sleep achieved and mood we are in. Make up and hair are done based on time and support you have that day (so most the time a brushing is a privilege).

It’s not even just the above that’s changed, my Spotify produces me daily lists flicking between Disney, tame impala, arctic monkeys and nursery rhymes. My phone advertises bath seats, children’s clothes and sensory toys. If cookies can’t even tell me what I want, it’s not a surprise I don’t know.

I believed by not having my first child until the age of 32, it meant I was emotionally mature enough to not lose my identity. Considering identity is built on profession, likes, dislikes, interests and community, change would be inevitable, all these things are impacted by a dependant.

The first mistake I made was, trying so hard to meet all his needs, I was lost in being a mother. I no longer made any choices for me. I resolved this with a second mistake by trying to recover my identity prioritising all the things I did before a baby, exercising, cooking, dates, socialising and maintaining the house. This led me to feeling exhausted, guilty and not managing any of the tasks well.

I have to admit, I am in a full identity crisis. I don’t recognise my body, it’s constantly changing, even if my waist shrinks, the bum and hips are on strike. I can’t yet balance his needs and mine, somedays I’m a great mum, others I feel guilt for not committing enough time to him. Me and my partner are often in survival mode and time for each other is less. My listening and problem solving skills are so exhausted, that even if I could pay attention, I wouldn’t be able to help.

Nevertheless all is not lost, I’m not losing my identity but rather having an identity shift. I have needed to accept that being a mother is part of my identity. The first year is an in-between period of life, I’m prioritising maternity leave, forming relationships, learning my parenting style and what interests are a priority. All these things are part of shifting my identity and getting closer to feeling emotionally mature again .

For now, I like to be out and about so we go for walks and to groups. I like to be playful so we do crafts, messy play and sing. I’m a foodie so I still prioritise good food. I feel better in nice clothes, with my hair and make up done, so I use my own time to do this.

Lesson learnt:

Be kind to yourself and don’t compare to other new parents. You didn’t all start with the same identity, therefore you won’t finish with the same.

(Parenting on both these pictures, one was a good day for me, one was a great day of parenting)

The time trial

Since four months my son sleeps less, plays more and screams whenever he can’t see me. His need to be interacted with has resulted in me losing hours of time. The only way to survive this has been to maximise every minute he is settled to achieve the most basic of adulting tasks. I obsess over time, when his care needs are due, how long will they take? How fast can I dress? Can I hoover before he wakes? I dream of the ability to freeze time. This obsession has meant it was time to try a routine, this routine has allowed me to eat three times a day, be dressed and between both parents the house is tidy by 9pm.

Some of you may read this thinking she has mastered it, I mean she actually eats, but let me tell you a secret. I live my life as if Its a crystal maze challenge. 08.30 my son watches a 20 minute animation, the second this is on I run to make a cup of tea and porridge (I’ve eaten this more frequently than a uk prisoner). My next break will be at 10.00 I get 15-25 minutes where he sleeps, during this time I can dress myself. Other day breaks will allow me 10 minutes for washing, 1 minute to wee (not a problem as I don’t get time to drink) and 15 minutes for lunch. Due to the time pressure and lack of consistency, I also find myself running round with a level of frantic anxiety, that can only be compared to a contestant on supermarket sweep.

This has led me to the final sign of motherhood. Irrational level responses to small annoyances. Now most of you will remember your own mum calling you ungrateful for leaving a water glass in your room, selfish for improperly loading the dishwasher (or washing up), a pig for leaving your shoes and coat out. This is still so normal, ungrateful you tubers have made their mothers famous with their rants. At a young age, you will have told yourself you will be a calm parent. This will happen because, you never understood why small issues made you suffer such extreme berating, Until now.

My son is too young to be to blame for any of the above. However I have found myself having a huge rant because of small reasons. A neighbour stole my food waste bin, do I really have time to go to a local library to get another. My partner shaves in the bathroom as soon as it’s clean, that was a waste of my time. A parent with a mobile 12 year old just took the only parent/child space, because I’ve got time to park at the back of car park and struggle with a pushchair. The bin men came too early one week, We don’t have time to be on time every week. The neighbours child is using my car space, I don’t have time or strength to be the one who has to walk further. I’ve lost my own keys by leaving them in a coat pocket, blame someone else as you don’t have time to look on your own. Top tip on last one, always use a partner to blame, I mean its partly their fault you now have baby brain and sleep deprivation.

Midway through my rant about the bin (I hoped loud enough for the culprit to hear), I realised my reaction is definitely at an irrational level. I suddenly had the realisation, mums genuinely don’t have any time and live on the edge. This also made me realise it wasn’t until my parents could start coming to my house, to make a mess, that I stopped being told off. Motherhood is a time pressure and no matter what age they are, we are all living on the edge, if anyone throws off our timing, they will unleash an ungodly wrath. But do you know what they deserved it, we just don’t have the time.

So lessons learnt this week is

1. You will never be fast enough to get it all done, but your on this treadmill now so you better keep trying.

2. When you hear a mother ranting tell her she is amazing, she needs to hear it.

3. If anyone complains to you their mum went mad about them not using a coaster, you say “why are you so selfish, your mum is an angel.”

Shout out to my partner, I would be even further behind without you.

Mum – may have taken me years to put my glasses away, but my house looked great for it.

Developmental leap or lack of sleep.

Newborn sleep deprivation began to show signs of improvement as he consumed larger volumes and could be exhausted by play. You see a glimmer of hope as you get between 5-8 hours sleep overnight.

Around this time people often asked “how is he sleeping?” When you dare to share your exciting news, that you do in fact sleep and you are starting to feel human. Parents with older children, couldn’t wait to say “you wait till the sleep regression”. I don’t know if this is a British or parenting act, but the smiles indicated they took gratification in telling me. This made me think, We never congratulate someone on a new job, by telling them, they will eventually leave that too. We never ask about a wedding by saying, don’t forget you will regret half your guests in a few years. So, why is it normal to meet positivity with a negative statement in parenting?

Subconsciously we know things like babies sleeping well won’t last forever. Due to this we will air on the side of caution, not telling anyone unless asked, go to bed expecting to be woken and live day to day. I have witnessed some parents get so excited they announce their baby is now sleeping through social media, I always look at this dubiously. I have a healthy respect for my baby, he calls the shots and has the ability to change the game at will. With this in mind, the moment sleep regression was mentioned I began to fear it. He was still sleeping 5-8 hours but my google history was showing, what is sleep regression? How can I improve sleep regression? Signs sleep regression has started?

One thing is for certain you will know when sleep regression hits without the need for google. Unlike newborns the disrupted sleep isn’t due to being hungry, needing a fresh nappy or comfort. This disrupted sleep is just caused by a need to do an activity, as though he woke worrying about bills, leading to anxiety he isn’t asleep. My baby still goes 5-8 hours overnight without a feed. However those hours are spent making the noise of a wasp trapped in a glass all, losing his dummy by shoving his own hand in his mouth then aggressively increasing the buzzing until I replace it, he writhes with the aggression of a cat in a bag and then when all this has meant he hasn’t rested, he releases an ear piercing scream in my ear until my body shuts down and I’ve booked a one way flight to Alaska.

To make matters more pathetic it isn’t like the previous developmental stages, he doesn’t make up for it in the day. He only requires 3 hours worth of 20-30 minute naps and needs interaction all day. I’m back to knocking my glasses off the bedside, knocking lamps over, forgetting ingredients when cooking and it took me 3 attempts to get a cork out of a wine bottle.

I need sleep, so like every normal person I have read an obscene amount of research, checking websites and safety advice. The first conclusion I drew is no one has the answer, all babies are so different that even regression, does not have a management plan. The advice was have a bedtime routine, ensure it’s dark to help release melatonin, comfort him but let him self soothe. Then all this advice gets further contradicted with he must sleep in the same room with you until 6 months. The issue was, what can they sleep in until 6 months that can be moved? Second Conclusion drawn is companies, professionals and research are concerned about being blamed for an incident, therefore nothing is deemed safe unless you are watching at all times. For example they get too big for Moses baskets before 6 months, sleep pods make they overheat, co-sleeping can also cause a list of risks and bouncers shouldn’t be used for more than 20 minutes.

So the problem was clear I’m 32 and don’t want to go to bed at 7pm, I do not have a cleaner/chef/butler so sitting in the room is not an option and everywhere other than a cot is unsafe for a nap (I have neither space nor funds to meet this requirement). I mean all of the above makes it impossible to sleep safely, maintain a relationship and rest. This leaves me no choice but to manage my own risks and make decisions for myself (yet you need to lie to a health visitor or risk being advised to stay in the room, leading you to feel overwhelming mum guilt.)

Speaking to fellow mothers, We have all had to stray from the guidance in some way to survive, and we all have our reasons at the ready for why it’s safe. Some parents co-sleep, some use sleep pods and some use monitors. The reason you breached the guidance is you realised the biggest risk to both of you, is you without sleep.

This week made me realise, at the start of parenting I was following all the rules, owned all the equipment and knew all the facts. This hasn’t helped me, the pressure of parenting is a lot to manage and you have to follow your instincts and at times do what is best for both of you. It is scary starting to notice how easily we are set up to fail with guidance. The fear of blame has made it so parents can’t get consistent advice and support from some of the most essential places, and pressure of getting it wrong can cause an overwhelming parent guilt.

As for sleep regression I wonder if parents told me about it in advance, to reassure themselves, they weren’t the only ones. The lack of sleep does bring some positives, he is changing so much during this, looking for us in a room, smiling when he finds us, chattering, awake for all baby groups, reaching for you, stroking your face, holding your hand and rolling toward you.

(Picture is when I’m meant to be asleep at 3am)

An ‘inconsolable’ day

Inconsolable crying is defined as an event in which your baby is crying and nothing can calm them. This left me with questions, how long does it need to last? How regularly does it need to happen? Can it be a phase? When do I need to worry? Anyone who is a parent will have not even questioned why I know this definition, that is because you have googled this too.

You will have googled this because baby crying can cause anger, frustration, helplessness, anxiety and depression. These emotions will have led you to one upsetting thought….”do I have the ability to parent?”

In the first few months babies can only ask for things by crying, and the hard truth is you don’t know your baby yet. You are learning their individual likes, dislikes and needs. The fact they are individual means even if this isn’t your first baby, it’s almost like starting over. The only way to meet their needs, is with a trial and error approach. This slow and tedious method will result in some truly awful crying episodes, which at times will leave you both in tears. I’m not ashamed to say I have begged and pleaded with a baby (this didn’t help).

Most of us have a predisposed way of dealing with stress, this didn’t change after childbirth, so for me this was anxiety. This means I questioned my parenting and assessed if there could be a medical reason for crying. The fact I have medical experience may be the reason I worried about this but also allowed me to rule it out. Although, I recently noticed the majority of participants in my baby group have a diagnosis of milk allergy (statistically in the UK it’s normally 2-3%). Vast majority told me it got diagnosed due to inconsolable crying. I took this as an indicator, I’m not the only one who considered a medical cause.

Reassuringly, After a couple of months, I have gained a better understanding of my baby. Most effective burping positions, when he is tired, when he is hungry and when his nappy needs to be done. I have learnt this as fast as I can to avoid episodes of crying. For me, my anxiety results in a need to be organised and prepared for everything. I am in a stage, I like to refer to as the baby risk assessment. But what is my baby risk assessment?

1. Time of last feed. Only travel when you have time to reach destination or a feed has just been complete. Be late if you have to, it’s still less stressful.

2. Managing a poo. Do you have a spare outfit? Excess nappies, lots of baby wipes. Are the changing facilities manageable.

3. Bibs – take too many, he may dribble through or he may be sick.

4. Distraction – even if they can’t hold them yet, pack too many toys. Do they have a dummy? Take all of them and too many clips.

5. Time of outing. How quickly can you get home if this all goes wrong? How quickly will the food/coffee arrive? Is there an area to sit? Am I meeting someone and if so, set a realistic length of meet. Can I be back before anything is due?

This happens in my head everyday before I leave. Is this sustainable for life? Of course not, but it’s getting me through at this time. I do all this to avoid inconsolable crying in public places. Even with all this planning it only helps reduce the risk, it does still happen. I mean none of us are Mary Poppins.

I honestly can’t sustain this level of organisation at home, it’s too exhausting. Therefore, this is where I experience most the inconsolable events. Our inconsolable events always have a reason. Initially we don’t know the reason because he can’t vocalise but eventually he will burp, fart, feed or fall asleep. In some cases I know exactly what the cause is, I just haven’t been able to meet that need fast enough. This results in what I can only assume is him forgetting what he started stropping about (we have all done this during an argument). So I thought I would share my own inconsolable event, because we don’t often talk about the breaking points.

My morning starts like any other, he woke smiling and I was half dressed for the day (I am no longer ever ready before 10.30, even though I am awake from 5 or 6 am). I begin to change him for the day, in the brief few nappyless seconds of this, he lets out a huge wee. Change mats protect beds but result in a puddle underneath your baby. Which means head to toe of the back of your baby is moist with wee and the process of cleaning baby back up is arduous. During this process he decided he had a hunger like he had never experienced before, the scream crying began.

I knew it was hunger, that didn’t mean I could fix it instantly. I just didn’t have enough hands to clean him, dress him to be warm, make a bottle and hold him. My partner is on a work meeting, I can’t call for help and this adds the extra strain of everyone on the meeting hearing. I already feel under pressure, but I need to dress him first. It feels like an eternity by the time I get the bottle in his mouth, but he has forgotten why he is crying now, so won’t take the bottle. Crying continues, I keep trying, I bounce my knee, I sing and I pray for him to stop. I then distract him with infacol and he takes the bottle – Silence.

You stop, take a few breaths and he feeds. But then a choke noise and he cries again, he was drinking too quick! He won’t take the bottle and just cries, so I start the cycle of bounce, sing and then beg. Why can’t I console him? I’m the worst mum, why won’t he stop? Why won’t he feed? Have I got this wrong? I feel tears roll down my cheeks. Finally he feeds again, there is no sensible reason for this, he must have just finally realised his need- Silence.

He sits up and smiles and unleashes an outstanding vomit all over mums clean clothes. I couldn’t even care, I continue to sit with him upright to keep him silent and happy. I feel numb to be honest, like I had to switch off emotion to manage the crying. We both sit enjoying the silence and rest.

The silence is broken by a triple parp noise and the strain sound of a man that needs more fibre. The smell warns me the ordeal isn’t over yet. I lift his top to discover he has pooed through a long sleeve top, leggings and a wool jumper. Incredibly impressive. The only option I have at this point is to run a bath, whilst he continues to run his body left and right in the poo on the mat. Dad appears following the bath as I dress him he begins to cry. I tap out, Dad takes over (very grateful I have this option) and I feel a failure.

I should have now taken the morning easy, been kind to myself and enjoyed him. Instead I continued to apply pressure to myself, I rushed to a health visitor appointment, the shops to get missing ingredients and grab my baby clothes from M&S. The morning had been traumatic and it wasn’t going to get better. I was frustrated and pushing myself, so i continued to have a bad day. I smashed my head on a car boot, my tyres decided today was the day to announce my unsafe tyre pressure, on fixing this I dropped the screw under the car and needed to crawl through petrol station black scum to obtain it and lastly a woman in M&S dropped a tomato ravioli meal on the floor, exploding up my leg. I was clearly a joy by the end of all this.

My day got better, but only because I quit. I walked in and didn’t finish tidying, I didn’t go to the gym, I didn’t go for a walk and I didn’t sort out anymore errands. I told my partner I quit and I spent the afternoon playing with little man. He rewarded me with smiles, rolls and chatter. Maybe I’m not a complete failure after all.

This weeks blog was initially a different topic, which I have put on hold. This is because parenting is constantly changing, he is almost 4 months and out of nowhere these events have become more frequent. This week I felt tearful and frustrated with myself.

(This picture was taken during the rewards given that day.)

‘Happily ever after’ vs ‘a petty beginning’

From a very young age we are sold the dream that having a child is your ‘happily ever after’. But the reality of becoming parents puts a strain on any relationship.

Don’t get me wrong, in the first few weeks you both have a lovely dose of oxytocin, creating the ‘honeymoon’ stage. You both wake for feeds and you’ll both offer to do nappies and cuddles. This excitement is reminiscent of first days of school, new jobs and new relationships. But with paternity leave finishing, all perfect things must have a dose of reality. Like in any new relationship the time has come for one of you to inevitably break wind.

However the visitors you get will be so much worse than accidental gas, these visitors will be hormones and sleep deprivation (and men, don’t feel left out, as helpful Mr testosterone is back on the rise). These new emotions will allow the overwhelming feeling of responsibility to sink in. “Oh my god, another human is completely reliant on me, and the only thing he can do for himself is breath”. Now these hormones have sent you into mother overdrive, you won’t eat, sleep, use a toilet or wash, unless there is time. You will also fluctuate between happy tears and sad tears, questioning your ability to be a responsible adult (I mean I still don’t understand tax codes).

On the other side your partner is back in work, this means they know what it’s like to eat in peace, have a quiet moment, maybe go to the gym and on occasion take a paid work poo (well this is how I imagine his life). He has informed me there are some problems working with a newborn, sone examples being almost falling asleep in meetings, struggling with problem solving and being photobombed by a baby and partner in pyjamas on teams. Unfortunately, employers are only accepting of this for so long.

This forces you to agree a ‘sensible’ plan of your new roles and how you can give your partner adequate rest (workdays only). Like the contract for a new job you will layout your new roles and responsibilities. This is to affirm your new roles as breadwinner and primary carer, but as you are in the agreeable and inexperienced stage, you will not get this right. This first plan will start the deterioration in communication, but not to worry this will not be an overnight event, but rather a slow quiet seething envy.

You will watch them sleep whilst you finish a feed and try to settle baby to sleep (for the 3rd time), you will wave as they leave for work, you will kiss them on the cheek as they disappear to the gym, you will watch them eat breakfast and you will smile whilst a settled baby sits on their lap. If you read this romantically, go back picturing your role played with the passion of Johnny (shining) or Hannibal lecter.

Now previously you would have addressed your envy as a reasonable adult. But you are sleep deprived, hormonal and overwhelmed, so it’s actually time to behave as a sassy, sarcastic child. I mean my partner always understands my angry hidden messages (sarcastic tone). So when I’m struggling to settle him overnight I’ll kick you, then I’ll fidget if you roll over to sleep again, I’ll hand you the baby every time you finish work, I’ll ask you “is that breakfast? It is important you look after yourself, the baby can wait,” and I’ll leave him crying next to you whilst I make a bottle. What could go wrong here? (Now I’m at a point I can look at some of this behaviour as childish and envious.) It led to the next stage…..

A Point scoring system. Both of you are exhausted and now passively aggressively make decisions with statements like, “well i did the last feed and nappy”, “I made dinner” and “I did the last cup of tea”. Your partner will tell friends how hard the night feed is (they will be referring to, either the midnight feed or being woken by the feeds), your brain will be screaming “yeah, imagine getting up for ALL those feeds”. But you will just smile as you are in public or…“accidentally” sell them out by declaring they sleep downstairs or you sit downstairs for the feeds. Primary carers will always be able to score more points, but it’s not a pretty win.

You are starting to recognise you are exhausted, you are lonely, you are envious and you don’t think you partner understands how you feel. This calls for one thing- night out with friends. You will justify leaving the baby by saying “I need a break” but, another thought will be “You’ll see how hard it is to look after a baby all day”. This sealed the fate of the inevitable “explosion argument”. This argument will start over something very petty, but will allow all the feelings of worry and envy to spill out, in a glory of verbal diahorrea. Unfortunately in our case, my partner had spent the entire day in the company of others and neglected to communicate this until my return. This made me angry, some may say unreasonably angry, but it boiled down to the simple facts, he hadn’t struggled, he hadn’t felt overwhelmed, he hadn’t been alone and he hasn’t needed me. This argument was not about who was right, but rather the need you both have to offload how overwhelming the responsibility of parenting is.

This didn’t end up one sided, I did have to listen to my partner, as he needed help too. His overwhelming responsibility was the financial burden of a family, the lack of rest after work and letting his son and me down by being tired.

Mine was giving up my job, feeling a change in identity, the constant responsibility of another human and your needs always coming last.

A lesson I already knew prior to a child was when communicating with a man – use clear, short sentences of exactly what you need. Despite this I expected my exhausted, stressed partner to be better at reading my mind since I had his child.

So lesson learnt –

1. make sure to make time to talk about how your feeling

2. ask for help

3. use direct requests of what you need from your partner.

This post was hard to write, as it’s honest and about a personal relationship. This means not everyday is social media perfect. We got through this because friends shared how overwhelming it was, no one said “I never felt like that”, “my partner never behaved like that” or “you are behaving unreasonably”. The fact is we all struggle.

Just because I’ve learnt the above, does not mean these feelings won’t rear an ugly head from time to time, but that’s because parenting isn’t a happy ending but rather the beginning of a tale.

Attending your first baby group

Baby groups have been one of the biggest learning curves since having a baby. At 4 weeks the time had come where I could just about brush my hair and put on clothes often enough to leave the house with dignity. Not to mention I had found myself watching this morning and not only enjoying it but giving a lamb recipe a go. This is a serious sign it is time to get out. But where an earth was I meant to start?

I always imagined during pregnancy you would be given information on local groups or during your first outing to the coffee shop the group of mums would approach you like charity workers in tabards. But no due to the lack of NCT groups thanks to a pandemic and the fact parenting did not result in the sudden admission to a secret society, I was left with no choice but to join any community page I could and search groups, babies and parenting (this did not always result in useful content).

This is where you will make your first new parent error by signing up to so many groups and courses it would take experience as an event co ordinatior to manage our calendar. I mean new baby and regular appointments, what could go wrong?

Well I attended six weeks of the most expensive baby naps of my life. How was I supposed to know that the 16-20 hours a newborn will sleep will always fall at the wrong time. Now fortunately I was told that newborns take 70% in whilst asleep, fantastic news then as he already takes more in asleep that I do when awake. Now you would think that your baby sleeping may mean that you can just sit back and have a rest…but no, you need to be involved in case someone else’s baby is watching (this was actually told to the group).

The music begins you turn to the woman next to you, suspecting she is equally as nervous but no….instead she is using sign language to say hello to the sun and appreciate all her friends. Oh god I don’t know how to sign, why is she so good? Was there pre-reading I missed? Am I an awful mum? My god how many times has she done this class? Now based on the fact I did French for 5 years and can still only just tell you my name and that I’m off swimming, this would not naturally be my moment of glory but….

I looked this mother dead in the eye and I made up as many big moves in front of my sleeping baby as I could, until even her child couldn’t take their eyes of me. This resulted in her checking her once confident moves with the instructor. First time parent 1 – baby group regular 0.

Lesson learnt this week, is one I bought from pre parent life – lack of confidence can stop us achieving.

This lesson may mean my baby can’t ever do sign language, but my god he will be able to dance.