Tag: parenting

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Threenagers…

I was, and am, determined not to allow cultural expectations to dictate how my children live and progress through their early years. All these labels that people put on particular age brackets can make you expect certain behaviours, and I don’t think it’s a given that all two year olds have “terrible twos”, etc.

That said, “Threenager” is a pretty accurate label for my strong-willed, independent, rule-questioning, intelligent, articulate 3 and a half year old!

And I want to talk about it, because it can be a struggle.

It goes without saying that I love my big girl with literally my whole life, and she really is my dream come true. That was true the day we found out we were pregnant, true when I gave birth to her, and true throughout every moment of every day since.

I have encountered many other parents with children the same age as mine, and I hear the same things over and over again. Almost every 3 year old is challenging! I remind myself often that it is not her personality that challenges me, it her developmental stage (I hope). Now, I know that’s not an overarching excuse for unacceptable behaviour, like hitting, biting, shouting at me, throwing things (at me, or otherwise!) or pure unadulterated defiance, but knowing that just about every 3 year old’s parents are facing the same or very similar challenges helps me remember that they are learning, pushing boundaries and experiencing so many things for the first time. With guidance, patience and consistent boundaries (which is so much harder to do than to say!) they will emerge on the other side as much nicer little people… or so I have been told…!

Even today a friend of mine was describing her weekend with her almost 4 year old little boy. The battle of wills over almost every normal day-to-day thing like getting shoes on to go out… or the rolling of the eyes when asked to do something, or when they tell you to do something the way you sometimes tell them to do something but it sounds so awful when it comes out of their little mouths! “Mummy, sit down now!” “Not yet, I’m busy at the moment” “Shush, you’re not listening to me”. How do you respond to that, knowing they’ve heard it from you?!

Three is as hard as it is wonderful, and as wonderful as it is hard. I adore listening to her sing songs in the car, and get all the words right for the first time. She will, out of nowhere, tell me she loves me so so so so so so so so so much. She’ll tell me I’m her best friend. She’s becoming so creative, and so generous, and so kind. She’s incredibly sociable, loves people, and has the strength and determination to make a difference in the world. And I love her so stinking much!! But MAN when she’s defiant I don’t know what to do with myself! I dislike the behaviour, and quite often, I am very disappointed with my own response to that behaviour.

And again, as I’ve mentioned multiple times before, there is so much out there about how to navigate this, and how to understand what it is they are dealing with and experiencing. But in the every day moments when you’re almost late for work, or you’ve given them enough of a heads-up that the activity is about to change, or you’ve asked 15 times with ever increasing urgency… in those moments when you’re so tired and so fed up of being ignored, those strategies go right out of the window.

I’m not actually complaining, for the record! I just know that this stuff doesn’t really get said publicly very often, and I want to be a bit of a voice for those who can relate to how this feels, and what it’s like day in day out, and again say ‘you’re not alone’.

Whatever age your kids are, parenting is glorious and parenting is tough.

And in my opinion. if you’re trying your best to do what’s best for them, you’re winning.

Sometimes, I don’t feel like I’m winning. But I’m choosing to believe that I am, and I will tell myself again, ‘I am a good mum’.

You, are a good mum. ❤

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When you feel like you’ve lost yourself

I used to have to book a time in with my husband for him to watch the babies, so I could have a shower.

I think I’ve had my hair cut once every 8 to 10 months since becoming a mum.

If I managed to clean my teeth AND remembered to moisturise my face in the morning, I was on to a winner!

Time alone? Sorry, what’s that?

A holiday? Don’t be absurd, I don’t fancy spending a boat load of money being somewhere unfamiliar, with no toys, few facilities, all of us sleeping in one room with neighbours either side, if my kids kick off a tonne (which they very well may do!) And a plane ride, with 2 littles? Nope.

Friends? Yes please! Let’s book an evening in… oh but wait, I’m dead on my feet by 8pm so, can we wait a while?

But guess what?! It’s not like that forever. Huzzah!

I read loads of things in the early days (years) about how important it is for new mums to maintain a self-care routine, to make time for ourselves. It was one of the things the GP said to be when I was very low, before prescribing me some anti-depressants. And I agree that of course it is important. But for me, in our personal circumstances, it simply wasn’t possible. There can be a very real sense of losing yourself in those first couple of years, and it’s really really hard to navigate. In fact, you don’t really ‘navigate’ it, you just plod through each day, with random little crying outbursts, wondering where the ‘old’ you has gone. It’s not really something I even consciously thought about all that much, but when every moment of your life is now entirely focussed on someone else, it’s a very natural (and quick!) progression to lose any focus on you.

I’ve seen some really lovely pieces of creating writing on social media where people have managed to brilliantly capture the extreme emotions of the loss of yourself, but the love for your baby. And whilst that overpowering love for what you have created in your own body is worth every single moment of struggle, whatever your own personal context for that struggle may be, I want to focus this post on you.

If you’re in those first couple of years and still feel like you’re in the pit, and you’ve no idea who you are right now, or if you feel like life as you knew it is over forever, I get you. They are such powerful feelings and they are so valid. It’s the reality you are living each and every day, and it matters that you feel it. You matter. Yes, you still matter. Mum guilt will whisper that you don’t any more, but it’s a lie.

Of course not every new mum feels this, but I suspect that a fairly high proportion will do to one degree or another.

It can feel like not even your body is your own anymore. From pregnancy where it can be uncomfortable and unpleasant for a million different reasons, to breastfeeding, contact naps, baby-wearing, being grabbed at, having your hair pulled, your nipples bitten, not being allowed to sit down, being randomly hit because tiny babies can’t control their limbs yet, or being intentionally hit because your toddler is cross with you, can’t go to the toilet alone, being watched in the shower, being touched all the time. If I had a pound for the number of times I’ve just wanted to scream ‘can you just leave me alone!’ we could afford a holiday, with childcare! 😉

It’s real, but it doesn’t last forever.

My eldest is 4 in June, and my youngest was 2 in November. They are 17 months apart so there was no reprieve between them. And it’s just now that I feel that I have the physical autonomy again, and the mental capacity to think about losing my baby weight, wearing a little makeup, and maybe even getting my nails done. If you know me, you’ll know I’ve never been one for glamour even before children, and some mums have managed to keep their nails nice and the mascara on even through babyhood! I couldn’t do mascara, I cried too often. But for me it feels really huge. I’m tired of looking tired. And now I have the energy to make the efforts I really want to make.

Everyone’s story is different, and everyone feels the losses differently, but what we all have in common is that there is loss. The losses are worth what is gained, but that doesn’t invalidate the losses.

Here is a short and certainly not exhaustive list of what I personally grieved the loss of:

Sleep

Physical autonomy

The ability to think rationally as much as I used to

Internal emotional stability

Self-control with food and drink

Sponteneity

Date nights

Hanging out with my friends

Photography

The cinema

Energy or time for playing my guitar / keyboard / bass at home or in a band

This is a list of what I gained because of the sacrifices:

My very own little family. And I would do it all again.

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Tired much? The cost and joy of sleep deprivation

I haven’t slept past 7am for over 3 and a half years. Not once. And until very recently, 5am was a very normal time to be up and about! My second pregnancy sleep was even more painfully insufficient, still nursing my eldest through the night, dealing with pregnancy aches and pains through the night, still working (not through the night!), and having a newly toddling toddler to deal with. It got boring when people asked how I was doing and all I could say was “I’m exhausted”. I was so fed up of saying it!

I’m grateful that since Toby was born, he has always been a better sleeper than Liv; his sleep needs are obviously quite different from hers, but both have always been early risers whatever time they go to bed at night. I did gradually get used to functioning on that little sleep, and my nights are much better now than they used to be. Suffice it to say I also haven’t gone to bed much later than 8.30pm for a long time, until recently when I’ve been staying up to watch Traitors! 😀

Lie ins are a thing of the past, and a solid 8 hour sleep is pretty much unheard of. The wrinkles are showing more and the dark bags under my eyes can’t even be hidden with concealer!

I. Am. Tired.

And I haven’t met a mother (of younger children) yet who is not. They say it gets better as they get older, and I am just beginning to see that now in our lives, but I also have friends whose kids have had rough sleep patterns until they were 6 or 7. NO THANK YOU.

That tiredness. I’ve heard it said a lot that you don’t know tiredness until you have kids. I don’t know. I have been this level of tired before, when life has been super intense for a while, or stuff has been going on. But the unrelenting nature of early risers who don’t know that weekends are made for extra morning sleep, and those broken nights, one after another after another after another… you can genuinely feel like you’re just going to actually die.

But you don’t. (Hooray!)

And the nights, ultimately, do start to get better. The chunks of sleep you get do get a bit longer. Funnily enough though, it doesn’t stop you feeling tired! Apparently it’s called ‘sleep debt’, and my sleep bank is very much in the red!

Am I complaining? Actually, no. As much as I would love to have some decent sleep, I also know that there’s nothing I won’t do for my babies, especially in the night time when they might be afraid of something, having a bad dream, feeling cold, or just need to know I’m still there. Investing in them feeling loved and safe at this early stage is an exhausting privilege that’s costing me my natural mousy brown hair colour, and pennies (pounds!) on wrinkle reducing face cream, and my social life, but it’s an investment into my connection and bond with my little ones, and maybe even into their trust in me to meet their needs.

I’ve said it before, parenting costs. Love, costs. Investment, costs. Sleeplessness is a huge cost! It is a costly, sacrificial thing you and I are doing. And I hope and pray that for every one of you who are sacrificing so much for your babies, you will see the fruit of your investment. (And get some good sleep soon.)

Much love x

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Am I ‘doing it’ right?

Can we talk about the pressure on parents today to do it ‘right’?

My mum and I have had lots of conversations around the culture of parenting when they were raising me (the 1980’s) and the very different culture(s) of parenting today. She has explained that in those days, before the internet, before blogs, before parenting “methods”, before any kind of wider social interaction outside of one’s own family or circle of local friends, you pretty much raised your kids the way you were raised. You didn’t really know there might be other ways to do it.

There were no studies into children’s development, or understanding of sleep regressions, or an awareness of neurodiversity, or research into the everything we can now look into today; my parents’ generation did the best they could with what they had. And my parents, at least, did a bloody good job! (Thanks mum and dad, I feel your pain now!)

As the following generations have grown, and advancements have been made in various fields, we’re now a quarter of the way through the 21st Century and the world is a very different place.

Now, I am a person who wants to get it right. Everything. I don’t need to BE right, I just need to know that things I do in life, I’m doing them right. I really dislike the idea of upsetting anyone, or displeasing people. It’s just my nature.

So when it comes to raising my little ones in a world saturated with differing and sometimes opposing advice on pretty much every aspect of parenting; sleep schedules, cry-it-out, contact napping, feeding schedules, wake windows, breast vs bottle, co-sleeping / not co-sleeping, gentle parenting, authoritarian parenting, permissive parenting, screen time, nutrition, exercise, body image, post-natal depression, career / stay at home mum, school / home school, political correctness, and the ever changing terrifying world of social media’s impact on children, the pressure is on! And the fear of damaging your children by the choices you make as a parent can be a really heavy weight to carry.

I guess I have mixed feelings about the accessibility of all this information today. Sure it’s helpful to see what works for others, or what science has discovered about babies brains and so on. But, it can also make you feel inept and incapable when you are bombarded by all the millions of things you could and apparently should be doing. I’ve found that if I let it, (and I have let it on many occasions) it overshadows all the things you are actually doing really really well! And let’s be honest, we’re all much better at knocking ourselves than celebrating ourselves aren’t we!

I’m going to practice right now. I am a good mum. Go on, you try it!

Yea, that felt weird. A bit awkward leaving that sitting there, but I will!

Jon and I have learned that for a lot of the practical stuff, (the sleep, the feeding, the routines, the personal choices made for the family) after MUCH googling, it’s actually a simple case of trial and error. We’ve learned what works for us, and what doesn’t, but that cacophony of this is the best way can be deafening and overwhelming.

Everyone is different. You are different to me. Your kids are different to mine. Your husband / wife / partner or single-parenting experience (I salute you!) is different to mine. That’s why this blog is not parenting advice, it’s simply an expression of my own experiences. joys, and struggles, to help other parents know they’re not the only ones feeling it!

You’ll read so many things about how you should be parenting, but you know you, you know your situation, and you know your little one(s). Trust yourself.

I would just say this: You are a warrior, you are strong enough, you are not alone.

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A Dad’s perspective

There is so much help and advice out there for mums, but not a huge amount specific to dads. Men can feel just as isolated, apprehensive, uncertain and out of their depth as dads as we can often feel as mums! We spend 9 months carrying, experiencing, feeling, bonding with that little baby before it makes an appearance, dads don’t have that privilege and their experience of becoming a father is an entirely different journey. I sent my beloved husband a little list of questions, discussion points perhaps, to bring a dad’s perspective.

  • 1. Did you want to be a dad, and how did it feel when you became one?

Yes, but I think it was always a future feeling. Not immediately, not now, not even when the birth happened. And then all at once… I think the enormity of fatherhood dawned on me over time. It’s a growing up experience and a progressive letting go and reassessing what’s important and what’s not.

  • 2. What has been the most significant challenge for you in parenting?

Taking on a 24/7 job where there’s little people needs that need accounting for all the time. Yes, it’s “shift” work to a degree, but you’re always aware that when you have ‘time off’ to do something, someone else is picking up the work.

  • 3. What has surprised you in a positive way, the most?

That there were new and unexpected ways that I’d grow in – ways I didn’t think I would or could. Finding that the kids push buttons empowers me to practice the balance between patience, discipline and letting them be kids.

  • 4. How much would you say becoming a dad has affected you as a person, in terms of capacity for other things in life, such as social, work, and mental wellbeing?

Capacity thoughts change in a whole different way. It’s not about do I have time to do the stuff I used to do anymore – it’s more a case of stretching things out. You’re forced to think in months for your availability and booking things in. Spontaneity is rare.

Personally speaking, mental health improved for me when I stopped fighting what I needed to let go of and what I thought was important to for me to do and to have regularly. You need to have the power to set boundaries or you’ll tire out. And a tired dad is a grumpy dad.

I’m self-employed so I have the benefit of being able to help out with and spend time with the kids when work is in a lull state.

  • 5. What are the top 3 things you wish you had known before bringing a baby home?

1. Really thinking about how much of my life would be required (pro tip: all of it).

2. That I’d become a foundation stone for another person to grow from. I set the floor in terms of expectations and they will look to me for how to act and shape the beginning of their principles and character.

3. That no. 2 won’t fully happen until they’re at least 3 years old and I’d be ignored almost entirely until then…!

Bonus no. 4. That sleep would become scarce and difficult to get/fit in… For a while!

  • 6. What would you say to anyone about to become a new father?

It’s a marathon, not a race. Keep hold of who you are but be ready to have some things float away. You’ll need to be ready to ‘evolve’ into your fatherhood. It’s hard and you won’t always get it right – sometimes it’ll make you unreasonably cross. Just like you’ll need the kids to do, clean up your mess, forgive yourself and say sorry when you have to.

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Precious and Tricky

I don’t know what it will be like when they’re older, but these early years hit all the extremes. Usually on a daily basis. ‘It goes so fast!’ parents of grown up children will tell you, ‘make the most of it while they’re little!’ and you know it’s true, and you know you want to take in every precious moment, but you also know you want this current rotten phase to be over with as soon as possible! Sleep regressions in particular are killer in the first couple of years, and yet so many wonderful ‘firsts’ also happen in this period of time! Precious, but tricky.

The state of my house was an issue that got me feeling very low. I became very proud of my home when I was able to buy my own for the first time, and I liked things to be in their right place. Getting married gave me a certain amount of practice in dealing with things not being quite in my right place(!) but that was NOTHING compared to when the house was saturated with baby things and all that comes with bringing a baby into your home. And having no time or energy to do the dishes, clean the kitchen or the bathroom, hoover all the floors, or put the dry laundry away… it started to get on top of me practically and emotionally. (For the record, my husband is a wonderful support and an equal partner in all these things, but he too was exhausted and learning to be a dad.)

And those feelings made me feel guilty (again! Gotta love the old mum-guilt). I felt guilty that I’d rather be cleaning my house than having to contact nap my baby girl who for a long time would only go to sleep when being held. Was that resentment I detected in my heart, while I was sat down on the sofa wishing I could lay her down and just do some jobs? And yet, at the same time, as I listened to her breathe deeply and watched her sleep soundly, I knew she felt safe, because of me. Precious and tricky.

All those ‘firsts’ we long for and look forward to experiencing… just watching and waiting for that first smile, first word, first step, first mouthful of solid food, first real cuddle, and that all-glorious moment they say “mama” for the first time! My Liv, she said “mam-mia” and we have it on video and my husband and I watch it back quite often! Every one of those moments is so incredibly special. Now, if I hear “MUMMY” or “MUM” less than 100 times a day, it must be because they’re in nursery. Those first words quickly include the word “NO” and those first steps soon need to be guarded with stairgates, corner protectors, cupboard locks and rearranging living areas! Those first mouthfuls of food often become spat out on the tray, or thrown on the floor, and those first cuddles quickly become whiny demands to be carried when you already have your hands full of their stuff and a bad back from all that twisty car seat loading and awkward positions! Precious, but tricky.

That first smile though, that never changes. Those smiles, are like gold dust sprinkled all over my heart.

I take many many photos of my kids. I do understand the approach that says if you take too many photos you’ll miss the actual moments and won’t be present for them, but for me, they are memories. Baby brain has been a real thing for me, and my memory has been affected by it. I take photos so I can look back and remember all the extraordinarily happy times we have together. The challenges will change as my children grow, and the memory of the earlier challenges will fade away, but the precious memories of when they have been little, and learning, and needing me, and wanting me, and us doing so many new things together, they will never fade away. Precious, tricky, and normal. x

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There are no ‘bad days’

Throughout my first pregnancy, and the first 2 years or so of my little girl’s life, I had the never waning support of a good friend who had been through it all herself. Her name is Jo. She would text me most mornings and simply say “how was the night?” and it gave me a place to express exactly how it was. Whether it was a good one – I was only up a few times – or a rough one – I was up every half an hour to feed her – I had a safe place to say it out loud (well, written, but you get it).

Jo is a very happy, positive, glass half full… no wait… she’s a glass overflowing kinda girl, and her approach to life and parenting has challenged and supported me in ways I don’t think she’ll ever know.

One of the things she would say to me is “There are no bad days, only hard moments”. This was to say, don’t write off a whole day because you had a solid half hour of inconsolable crying, or your little one threw the bowl of food you made for him all over the floor, or the 476 times you heard the word “MUMMY” in a day drove you insane! Remember that every single day is filled with 1440 minutes. There are 24 hours. It’s very unlikely that every one of those hours or minutes will be hard.

It meant that as I dealt with each day, I could believe that there would be happy, good moments to look out for. I could view every difficult thing as simply a part of the day, and not to just sink into a pit expecting the rest of the day to be difficult. Parenting really is a rollercoaster of emotions and wildly differing experiences throughout each and every day, but many of those will be positive, happy, wonderful moments to enjoy. x

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Baby #2 Guilt

As my second pregnancy progressed, the bump started to show, and the aches and pains started to make me less able to play with my little girl, the little whispering voices of guilt started to make gains on my attention. When so many of my interactions with her became “I’m sorry sweetheart, mummy can’t do that right now”… “Babe, mummy is a bit too tired to play that”… “Go ask daddy, he’ll help with that”… it began to eat at me that we may have made a horrible mistake in having another baby.

Have we ruined her life? All that one on one time she will have had with us for 17 months will simply cease to exist. And not only will she have to share me now, but baby boy’s needs will sometimes take priority over hers. Will she hate him? Will she hate ME?

Livi fell in love with my bump. She cuddled into it, stroked it, and I’m pretty sure she understood there was a baby in there even though she was still really little. She tried to say “baby Toby” and it came out “bae Toa” which was just adorable. But I knew she had no concept of what was to come once he was born.

I cried a lot as the end of my second pregnancy approached. I loved my girl so so so much, and whilst I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t love my little boy as much, which I know can be a fear for a lot of mums who are having their second baby, I didn’t know how I was going to give them both what they needed and deserved. I was already exhausted; I had nothing left, but they deserved everything.

I was in hospital a couple of nights and our very close friends looked after Livi while we had Toby. When it was time, dad went home to her, and soon after brought her to the hospital to collect us. It was the only time in her little life we had been apart from one another for any length of time, and the look of disgust and betrayal on her face when she saw me with another baby broke my heart. She wouldn’t come to me. That was the final straw in the mountain of guilt straws!

It took a few days for her to fully warm back to me, and those days were the most painful and guilt ridden days I have ever experienced. She loved her little brother from the moment we were back in our own home and she sat in front of his little car seat in the lounge (having just come in from the car, don’t panic, he wasn’t there long), stroking his tiny hands, looking at her daddy saying “bae Toa” on repeat. Delightful. But the deep connection she and I had had took some rebuilding.

But rebuilt it was. The guilt subsided and feelings of wholeness replaced them. Our little family felt complete. I gradually started to understand that it was GOOD. She had a new little best pal to dote on. These days, she has a little best pal to order around! They love each other SO much (and also fight a lot), and I know now that we did not ruin her life, we made it even more glorious and full of adventure! And that gorgeous little lad has the most wonderful big sister to care for him, protect him (which I have no doubt she will as they get older!) and teach him new ways to play (and new boundaries to push). She’s so creative, such a great problem solver, and so incredibly sociable, I have a feeling that if we hadn’t given her a sibling she’d be somewhat bereft! And, for the record, she and I are as close as we could be.

As I’ve said before, everyone’s story is their own, and every family is different.

But if you’ve felt or are feeling guilt, or any kind of apprehension around what effect having another baby might have on your first, I just want to offer some encouragement that whilst those feelings are intense and real and very very valid, don’t let them steal too much joy from you. From what I have seen and read of others’ experiences over the few years I’ve been aware of parenting struggles, and of course my own, I am confident for you, that it will be worth it. x

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Your story is your own

Parenting can be a very lonely experience.

Parents often feel incapable, unworthy, guilty, and therefore can feel like they are being judged for every and any decision they make, or don’t make.

Different and sometimes opposing ‘parenting styles’ and methods are everywhere, and ‘guaranteed’ formulas for sleeping, feeding, nursing, optimal one on one play time, nursery or no nursery, discipline, boundaries… the list goes on and on.

Some parents have help and support from family members.  Some parents have no one. Some parents have interfering and unwelcome ‘help’, while others are crying out for just half an hour away from their kids.

Everyone’s story is different. No two families are the same. No wonder we can feel so alone. And yet, when I’ve opened up to other mums in a moment of ‘I have nothing left’, I’ve found some solidarity.

Vulnerability and honesty about what we’re experiencing is so important.  We become seen. Our feelings are valid.

The reality of parenting came as a shock to me. I had spent my whole adult life longing to be a mum, to have a family.  It didn’t happen for me until my late 30s. Married in 2020, first baby born June 2021 when I was 39. I had dreamt and imagined what it would be like. I desperately wanted to experience pregnancy, and childbirth. I wanted it all! I had friends who had had kids, and I’d seen that it was tough. I knew there would be a lot of sleepless nights. I knew breastfeeding might not be straightforward. I was ready for it!

The elation that came with that positive pregnancy test was indescribable; it was literally ALL I had ever wanted.

I felt so sick for 3 months straight, and was utterly exhausted.

Second trimester was better, and seeing the bump develop and ultimately feeling her moving about was magical!

Third trimester I WAS HEAVY. Back pain, hip pain, couldn’t sleep on my tummy anymore (devastated!) Still utterly exhausted.

Then at 41 weeks and after 2 sweeps I went into 28 hours of labour with no pain relief until hour 23. Not because I’m brave, but because my birthing notes were not very clear and gave the impression I didn’t want an epidural. Gas and air made me sick. 2 pethidine injections had no effect. I felt like my entire lower back and bowel were going to explode out of my backside… NOT the area of my body I was expecting to feel the pain! After 23 hours an epidural came to the rescue, and I was like a new woman. But then, because I couldn’t feel anything down below, when it was time to push I couldn’t push hard enough! Believe me, I gave it everything I had, but after being awake for 36 hours and in indescribable pain for 23 of them, the everything that I had simply wasn’t enough.

My baby girl was born 5 hours later by forceps, after an episiotomy and an internal tear, and losing over a litre of blood, which my husband watched the medical staff sweep up off the floor below the bed…!

The day we brought our bundle of gorgeousness home, we fell into bed that night and I didn’t even make it onto my pillow properly before being out for the count.

Then. Out of nowhere there was the most terrifyingly loud and piercing screaming sound which had me bolt upright in less than a second! She was hungry. I fed her. She fell asleep, so I put her in her little next to me cot, and lay back down.  She cried. And cried. And cried. I sat up, still exhausted from the whole birth experience – and let’s be honest – 9 months of pregnancy, and tried to cradle my tiny, fragile baby back to sleep sitting up in bed. I stayed like that all night, not knowing what else to do.

And that’s when I realised I had no idea what to expect, what to do, or how to even be a parent. And I also realised that there was now going to be zero let up… every moment of every day and every night was now dedicated to the care of this tiny person.

It’s like nothing else I’d ever done.

The midwives said to me just before I left the hospital “see you in a couple of years for the next one” I laughed in their faces and swore blind I was NEVER doing that again.

8 months later I was pregnant – by choice – with number 2.

Three and a half years later we have a very sassy 3 and a half year old girl, and a very sweet and kind 2 year old boy. (Labour with him was actually worse, it was only 3 and a half hours long but I’d never felt pain like it, again had no pain relief, had another episiotomy, was delivered with forceps, and lost even more blood than the first time!)

We are stopping there!

My experience is just my experience. Some women have had to endure so much more than I did, and for others labour was a joyous walk in the park.

But all of this to say, I thought I knew what to expect. I did not.

Early newborn days, developmental leaps, regressions, illnesses, weaning, the commencement of meltdowns. Every new thing was googled googled googled!

But guess what? Read enough articles and you get conflicting advice, varying levels of helpfulness, and blog posts telling you that it worked for them so it will work for you.

Parenting is trial and error. Every new mum and / or dad is doing every single element of parenting for the first time. There really is no manual for a newborn. Or, as we are discovering now, there isn’t really one for toddlers or preschoolers either!

Whatever your story, know that while your experiences are your own, you are not alone in the feelings that accompany them. You are enough, and your little ones think the world of you.

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Hormone Power!

They say that a woman’s hormones don’t settle back to ‘normal’ for 2 years after having a baby. I can attest to the truth of this! My youngest turned 2 in November 2024, and I have been kept sane by a low dose of sertraline since soon after he was born. But that’s not the focus of this post… this is: have you ever found that your emotional state is often related to the emotional state of your kids?

Seriously. Today I feel quite happy, motivated, at peace. Yesterday I was grumpy, unmotivated and feeling just a bit low. The difference? Yesterday the kids were a nightmare to get ready for nursery. They were argumentative, avoidant of the necessary hygiene routines to be ready to actually leave the house, and generally very difficult. Today, nice as pie! Grrr. And did me and dad do anything differently today? Nope.

Since becoming a parent I have so much more respect for the powerful role of hormones in our lives! Before having kids and experiencing the crazy rollercoaster that it is I had very little understanding or compassion for parents who appeared to be struggling. I knew it was hard, and I knew they would be tired, but OH MY GOODNESS until you walk it, you cannot possibly comprehend the intensity and the relentlessness of it all!

And for me, talking about it really really helps!

Having a little (or massive!) vent to another parent is so cathartic. It really is.

Children are hard work!

One child is hard!

Two children are hard!

Three children are super hard, and I have no intention of living that experience!

Anyway back to the point. I don’t have a solution for it, but I do wonder if I’m the only mum out there who is grumpy when her kids are grumpy, and happy when her kids are happy?! What even is that?! Answers on a postcard!