4 months

It feels like days, not a month since I last wrote about you. I know I say this every month but I'm feeling a bit speechless about where time is going. A third of a year? It doesn't make sense.


What a month it's been! 

We celebrated your baptism last month and you weren't fussed by a face-full of water! You were as good as gold and loved meeting more friends and family. You even slept in your car seat while it wasn't in a moving car. Incredible! (Thanks Mummy Morkus for running my camera while I was busy...)

At 17 weeks you weighed 14lb 2 and you're very much in 3-6 month clothes. I only had two sleep suits from Effy's wardrobe ready for you though so we had to do a quick dash for some new ones! You suddenly seem incredibly long and increasingly robust, and you're starting to enjoy a bit of silliness with your sister; you don't mind if she accidentally squishes you!

At 17 weeks and 2 days you rolled from your front to your back and today at 18 weeks and 2 days you rolled from your back to your front. I missed them both. Last week you were in your cot and when I came to get you after your nap you were starring up at me. Today I came in from hanging in the washing, and there you were, cool as a cucumber on your front. Alas!

You have very little desire to stay still any more. You want to be sat up, stood on laps, in the jumperoo having a bounce or sat up in the pram so you can be nosey. You're more cautious of strangers now though, and you don't always smile at them because they smiled at you.

At meal times you are fascinated by what we're doing and you would probably shove your face in my plate given half a chance. You can't sit in the bumbo to watch any more as you can flip yourself out of it. So that got all of 2 weeks use! 

You've really found your voice and my goodness can you shout and squeal! You've also discovered your inner peace and you almost exclusively settle yourself at nap times and bedtime now.

You're so different to Effy. You're so you. I think you 'get me' a bit more than Effy did at 4 months old... She just used to look at me like I was a loon. You love a selfie and some silly coo-ey noises. Next week you start your settling in sessions at nursery and I feel confident that you'll just breeze through them. Me on the other hand? I'll have my tissues at the ready...

Three months

A quarter of a year. It feels likes yesterday that I was writing about 2 months. I must have blinked.

I have no recollection of life without you in it, but yet in my head you're still brand new. Actually, after a fussy week 12, you've proved yourself a bit of an old timer. You want to push up on your legs, sit up in the pram in a proper seat and you grin for everyone who locks eyes with you. You can lift your head right up when you're on your belly and you almost rolled over from your back to your tummy this evening for the first time. There's no stopping you! 

You work like clockwork now and life finally feels normal again. You are incredibly chatty and love to shout! You chuckle when people pull silly faces at you. You can grab hold of toys on your play mat and you've found your fingers and your mouth. I suspect you have a tooth on the way because all you do is chew on them. We got the Jumperoo out of the loft this week and you think that it's brilliant being upright! 

You will settle yourself to sleep now 90% of the time, and you sleep better now you are in your cot in a room with your big sister. She prods you and sings to you and puts all kinds in your cot, but you're not bothered at all. You often spin around on your belly during the night. You love Effy most of all.

I can't believe how far we've come already. And now the fun really starts!

B is for...

There are lots of B's in this picture.

Today, B is for bokeh.

Linking up with PODcast and the #alphabetphoto linky

Two months

My sweet little girl. 

In my head you were born last week. You in fact are 10 weeks old. 70 days. 

I had forgotten so much of what the early days brought; Your 'new' cry, and your jerky movements and your ability to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable of positions. And I don't want the early days to end...

And then suddenly, you are on the move. Off the play mat, pushing off with your feet and across the sitting room. Scooting up the crib and getting stuck in a corner. Pushing up and proving to me that you do in fact have that funny little step reflex after all. You love sitting up and Effy "rowing" with you is such great fun.

It took us time, but we finally got to the bottom of your sickiness and your ghastly burps. It transpires you're super windy and super greedy, but a step back to reassess your bottles, your milk and your eating habits has made this so much easier and I can predict you almost as well as I could your sister now.

You're getting to the point where your toes want to burst out of 0-3 month clothes and I've sold those beautifully new born nappies. Your eye lashes are growing faster than the rest of you, although apparently your head is also huge. It doesn't look it. You smile for everyone who will look at you and you're getting the hang on chatting. I suspect chuckles aren't far away. You still hate the car seat, but you'll sleep for hours in the sling.

Your big sister is by far your favourite and your eyes follow her around the room. You're incredibly tolerant of her slightly over zealous but well meant gestures and you seem to have taken well to the role of little sister just fine.

Two months. You just get better and better.

The Second Child

Last night I dressed my baby in a sleepsuit that was mine as a baby. It was, no doubt, from a baby boutique, such was my mother's taste, but it didn't stop her chopping off the feet when my legs got too long. My elder daughter wore it, and now the little one shall wear it too. I LOVE that we all have this hideous sleepsuit in common.

It's funny, as earlier D and I were talking about getting Effy's first outfits out of the loft for Lowen. We had to buy little things the Lowen, as everything of Effy's was too big, even the neutrals I bought were 0-3. Having initially rejoiced with my wallet at the prospect of never needing to buy new clothes-that-would-barely-be-worn-again, I suddenly felt guilty. Poor Lowen will spend at least the next 8 years in her sisters hand me downs. Tomorrow I will go and buy a pack of Next sleepsuits for her, so at least she has something of her own.

An only child, I never had hand me downs. Except for my bike, which had belonged to my male cousins before me. It was, obviously, blue. And I bloody hated it. 

It got me thinking about "second child syndrome". It made me think completely irrationally. Will she be forgotten about? Will she be resentful? Will she do things faster as she watches her sister do it? Will she be constantly compared to her sister? Will she struggle academically because her sister will always be doing SATs, GCSEs, A Levels first, and they're more important? Will I leave her sleeping upstairs and go out without her? Will she despise the hand me downs and pull the favouritsm card?!

Whatever she may think, my credit card is pleased that we have a seasonally appropriate, barely worn wardrobe in the loft. It's too good to be forgotten about. People always talk about "the second child" and "the middle child" in such a negative way, but there's plenty of good reasons too... 

For example, Lowen will learn from her big sister's mistakes. She'll have heard us count to three with a sanction in place. She may have witnessed first hand what happens if you draw on the sitting room floor, or put the potty on your head when it's got wee in it.

She'll benefit from our mistakes, our parenting fails, but also our parenting acalades and successes. 

She has her sisters' toys AND her own toys to play with.

She has enjoyed high class television such as Peppa Pig et al from a very young age. TV was banned until Effy was 1... That's education right there, that is...!

Most importantly, she had a confidant in her big sister. Always. She will never be lonely, or on her own. She'll always have a playmate, even when mummy and daddy are cooking or hanging the washing. She'll always have someone to blame.

And that has be worth more than a mini shopping spree for outfits she'll never remember instead of hand me downs.

Long live the hand me down, I say.

To the left, me and my dad, and to the right, Effy enjoying the clowns.

One month

I'm pretty sure if I rewound that last blink I'd be back in hospital, taking in my first few moments with my brand new baby. I knew it would be like this. I knew it would go too fast, but I do feel like I've done a pretty good job of taking in as much is as possible this time. Today I put some washing on, I've not hung it up, and the nappies are assembled but still in the sitting room. Do I care? Not so much, I've been hanging out with Lowen, squishing her, smelling her, taking photographs of her. I can hang the washing up when she is in bed. 

Next week I'll take her to be weighed but I'm sure she'll be well into the 10lb bracket. The tiny clothes we had to buy her because Effy's stuff was all to big are feeling snug and the legs are too short on some sleepsuits. All of a sudden. She is still quite scrunchy, but enjoys stretching out too. 

She is starting to gurgle and has been smiling for a few days now. She loves being in the sling and doesn't enjoy the pram so much. She sleeps well at night... Last night she treated us to eight and a half hours!

So, a mum of two. Fully fledged. What have I learned?

• Well, newborns are more flexible than I remember. You can get them out of bed, chuck them in the sling and go and they'll probably go back to sleep.
• Toddlers are really more independent than I realised... Effy does so much for herself, more than I'd ever given her credit for... Lowen can't even get her own arm through her sleeve!
• You HAVE to sit back and enjoy being pregnant. My first pregnancy was godawful from start to finish and my second was hideous at times but I definitely had the 2nd trimester energy, yet I was too busy being a mum to take much in. I miss my bump. I miss having my little yellow fidget all to myself. I might not ever do the pregnant thing and already I can't remember it. It makes me a bit sad.
• Get organised. The night before when everyone else is sleeping if you need to be out early. Have EVERYTHING to hand. Remember to empty the potty as soon as it's been pee'd in.
• Finally, really do savour everything. Count the little hairs on their ears. Hold their tiny fingers. Take photographs, smell them. Log it. It's only two years since I had a 5 day old Effy, yet too much has slipped away from my memory...

Despite the chaos, the piles of laundry and the puddle of wee on the sitting room floor, it feels like there wasn't ever life without Lowen. She's just fitted right in and I wouldn't want it any other way.

One month... They'll get better and better.

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I mustn't forget

It's hard to believe that we are flying through week 3 already.

You've grown so much - last week you'd piled on 11oz in 7 days.

You are getting stronger, you're starting to straighten out and you've perfected burping to a fine art.

You have set your routine.

You're starting to smile - and it's definitely not wind!

I can't believe how much I've forgotten about newborns... It's only two years since we were here before... Here are five things that I don't want to forget:

That newborn smell - is that what womb smells like? If so, I get why babies don't want to come out. That smell is fading now, but there's something lovely about kissing a newborn's head and taking in that smell. I can't describe it, it's a sweet kind of smell, but every mother who has held her has commented on it. That newborn smell. 

That tight grip - the grasp around your finger, that takes hold of your hair and wont let go, so tight that you could hang them on a washing line and they wouldn't fall.

Innocence - they really don't know ANYTHING other than comfort, hunger and sleepiness, and the sound of your voice. And it astounds me even more this time, having watched how much they change and how much they learn so so quickly. They really do start with nothing. A blank canvas for you to make your own.

Blink and you miss it - they fall asleep on you and wake up looking completely different. Their eye colour changes daily, one minute they look like daddy. Then mummy. Then suddenly you catch a glimps of another relative. And it keeps on happening. Isn't nature clever.

Skin like the most luxurious fabric - Blissfully soft and smooth, still fuzzy like a peach and absolutely perfect. 

I want her to stay little forever. These days are all too few and all too precious.

Silent Sunday

Getting to know you

My lovely little Lowen.

What a whirlwind week it's been since we came home to start the next chapter of our lives! What a joy you are!

What have I learned about you so far? Well, you're one chilled out little peach! You don't care where you sleep and you don't object in the slightest to cuddles with your sister, which don't appear to be the most relaxing of embraces at times. You hate being naked, and having your nappy changed is a bit of an ordeal. You love being warm, and don't kick blankets off like your sister always used to. You're a hungry little creature, but sometimes you guzzle too fast and make yourself sick. Anything out of a bottle must be served warmer than room temperature or your dribble it back out. You look more like me as a baby than your sister did, but you have your daddy's enormous big toes! You are strong, so, so strong and your head control is incredible. Your eyes are starting to turn blue around the edges and you look wise when you open your eyes to take in your surroundings. You are a good sleeper, particularly at night. You are determined, and I can see the same strong will of your sister in you already. You are absolutely perfect.

"And though she be but little, she is fierce."

Silent Sunday

A step forward

So here we are. 20 weeks. Half way. 

This is insanity.

I was writing a guest post the other day, which is due to be published next week about preparing for a baby, and I suddenly realised how much there was to do and it has given me a kick into doing something for this one's arrival which is much closer than it sounds!

The other weekend we found ourselves in IKEA buying ourselves a new wardrobe. This weekend, D enlisted help from a friend and assembled it. Why is this significant? Well, D's clothes currently live in a chest of drawers in the spare room, which is about to become the kids' room. So those drawers needed vacating - pronto! This baby has somewhere to sleep and somewhere to keep their clothes... Progress. Now to start boxing some stuff up that we don't need out and thinking about doing some decorating. I'm still very much thinking about that! 

In other news... 

I had my 20 weeks scan today. Baby is happy, healthy, a little big for gestation. And tall. Just like it's sister was. I went on my own, which was a little odd, but I'm pleased to report that nosiness didn't get the better of me and I stayed firmly Team Yellow. Time to buy some white baby grows! I bought the wool for a baby blanket this week... I fear that my list of Christmas makes will be getting in the way of that for some time.

This week has definitely been the week of growing: I'm starting to feel HUGE and I'm feeling baby much higher up now. I've had the appetite of a king and some of the nasties of pregnancy that I'd managed to escape or at least deal with up until now have started to become a little more problematic. And of course the pharmacist wont give you anything. Sigh.

Anyway, I'm making a shopping list for the kids' new room and pinning like a mad woman on Pinterest. That'll satisfy me for now.

Less than 20 weeks to go...

My best kept secret

I absolutely wasn't fibbing about that bug that knocked me off my feet back at the end of July. I genuinely was bed-ridden for a week feeling sorry for myself.

However, I claimed that the good weather was keeping me away from the computer and causing me to neglect my blog.

That was a slight bend in the truth, because actually, this happened.

D and I couldn't be more over the moon. You know, by now, that I'm a precision planner, and this wasn't part of the plan wasn't in version 1 of the plan. But the time felt right. E adores the company of others. She adores showing off her toys to her pals. She coos over babies and wants to help look after them. Now was the time to make her a big sister. 

And, despite weeks seven to thirteen being hideous, all is well. There is very little similar about this pregnancy to last time. What does that mean? Is it a boy? Shall I find out?

And here we are at week 16 and today I'm mostly wondering where did THAT come from??

I had to hold off sharing the news until I told the people who mattered most. And some of those people only found out on Thursday, as I wanted to get the start of term out of the way first... So it's really only the last 48 hours that I've felt like we've been celebrating properly. No more hiding the flab-turned-tiny-bump-turned-not-so-tiny-bump. No more keeping my best kept secret!

This new chapter in our lives opens up a myriad of new things to blog about. I'm excited to be writing about the next bit as we get ready for life as a family of four...

Goodness me. A family of four.

16 weeks

The Expectant World

As I drove to work yesterday morning, the news broke that Kate Middleton was in the early stages of labour. I was relieved for her; heavily pregnant and probably overdue in this heat must be absolutely no fun at all. But I also felt awful for her. Did she really want the entire world knowing she was in labour? Everyone discussing her over their breakfast or morning coffee?

I thought back to when I had E. They made the decision to induce me when I was in hospital for the second time in 10 days on my due date with irratic high blood pressure, severe odema and a constant upset stomach. The plan was two sweeps to try and get things going and induction was booked for 40+4 if that hadn't worked. Family and my closest girlfriends knew what was going on. But the rest of our world, our Facebook communities, our colleagues remained blissfully unaware. I was even updating my Facebook status with mundane comments about having to buy birthday presents for the three hundred birthdays that were coming up in April because I just didn't want people to think of me in some slightly undignified position, screaming, pooing, whatever. And people seemed genuinely surprised when we made the announcement around three hours after she was born and they genuinely thought I was still beached like a whale on my sofa. Ah, fickle friends!

I do not envy the pressure the world has put on Kate and William, and their little baby. But my heart was warmed by how humble the family were as they stepped out of the hospital this evening. How normal they were. Overjoyed like every set of new parents, still with wobbly bellies (OK, much better hair and makeup) and excited for the new dad to be driving them home. I'm no Royalist, but I think Family Cambridge have done a huge amount to improve the public image of the Royal Family. Normal, everyday folk who are incredibly likeable.

Now I hope they announce his name and the media back off and leave them to settle into family life. We all remember how we hated the visitors in the early days, and I cannot imagine for one second she wants the entire world sitting in her back garden, waiting.

Congratulations, Kate and Will.

Couldn't resist cracking out a few of our first memories of parenthood.

Daddy and new E

Wordless Wednesday

Moving on up

"What a big baby! She's got a lot of hair!"
"But is she ok?"

"She's fine. But she's big! And she's got a LOT of hair."

She was fine. She didn't cry straight away, and I didn't get to see her completely brand new. Ten minutes of tugging to dislodge her from my pelvis after a hideous induction resulting in an emergency caesarian had proved quite a shocking ordeal for all of us. She had a bruised head, looked like she was about to sprout little horns and weighed in just shy of 10lb.

She was big. And she did have a lot of hair.

Brand new E

When older women ask how much she weighed, they wince at the thought of it. Most of my friends, whose little ones have been "average" give me a sympathetic nod. But many people aren't suprised. Babies ARE getting bigger. My best friend, who said she'd eat her hat if my baby arrived weighing less than her first born, a healthy 9lb 3, went on just five months after E arrived to deliver a 10lb 10er naturally, and amazingly before her epidural had a chance to work.  Hats off to her. There was no way E was coming out, head back and back to back... Sunroof it was.

A year on, E is still bigger and hairier than most of her pals of a similar age. One of her "best friends" (Oh I DO hope they will be!) weighs as much now as E weighed at 16 or 17 weeks old. She's tall. And she's rocking a wavy, messy haircut. She wears some 18-24 month clothes. She isn't "fat": She's followed her line beautifully since the horrors of "Day 5", and has actually dropped a line recently since she started walking... She just looks old. And that's kind of what it's aways been like. She's never looked her age. I hope she looks her age by the time going clubbing crosses her mind...

Yesterday we got the letter to say that nursery were starting her settling in sessions to move her up to the Ladybird Room. They're moving her up early. Her buddies, twin girls five months her senior will be staying put while she goes to join the older ones. Sometimes she goes over to the Ladybird room at the end of the day when they're short on staff, and she's never looked out of place. She looks like one of them, and is always having a great time. I know she'll have no issues settling in there, and I know it'll only improve the quality of her day at nursery. I say that like her days aren't good at the moment. They really are. I am blessed to have a child who settled effortlessly at nursery. The only tears shed when she started going at five months old were mine. But it's become clear in the last few weeks that she's getting a bit bored in the baby room. It's time to move on up. I am thrilled. I adore that she's so ready to go, and doing so well. That she loves reading, eating, playing, "helping out". I am proud that nursery see all the things in her that I see. But a little bit of me is sad. It's another of those things that just mean she's growing up, and I'd like that to slow down, please. What do I even mean by that, really?

Obviously I decide to write a blog that calls for a photo and she manages to rub her nose to death.

I don't feel like I've ever pushed E to do stuff before she's ready. I've just given stuff to her to try, and most of the time she's just taken to it. My friends who are raising their second or subsequent talk about how they're in no rush for their babies to do stuff, that they want to keep their babies as babies, almost as if they think I am in a rush. Maybe I'm being too sensitive. I'm not in a rush. Some people told me bigger babies did stuff later because they were carrying extra weight. Others told me she'd do it sooner because she was that much stronger. Who knows. I can't help but love the new things she can do. When she started crawling, life got simpler. She would not longer get frustrated as she could get to where she wanted to be. Going places with a little person who walks seems to make the outing so much more about them and is so much fun. Mealtimes with mastered fork and spoon skills (OK, we're getting there with a spoon...) are cleaner some of the time. She is increasingly independent which I always wanted her to be. Yet I wonder, if without realising, I'm being too keen in my attempts to help her to do stuff? Do others see me as pushy, or think I'm pushy? I see pushy parents at parent's evening at school and I feel bad for those kids. I don't want to be one of those mothers. Do I need to take a step back?

Having a kid that is meeting some milestones earlier than expected fills me with pride, gush gush, but that combined with her toddler-aged looks isn't without its drawbacks. When we're out in the pram, people talk to E, as they would any other child, but look at her like she's stupid when they don't get the verbal response they were expecting. People stopped cooing over her a lot earlier than my other friends' babies. In children's play areas or at soft play I find myself regularly apologising to other parents as she doesn't get the concept of sharing yet and they're trying to get her to share with their kids... Why would she? She's still so young. But she looks like she should. I think, when I explain, they feel bad. But it makes me sad that I have to apologise for her. It's not her fault. 

So where is the line? Where do you become pushy, how little of a rush is too little a rush? Is letting them get on with it and not helping them out acceptable? I don't know. I don't know if I've crossed those lines, and I don't expect I'll treat Number 2 any differently. I suspect, or I'd like to think that she's done these things because she wanted to and because she was ready. Whatever I've done or she's done, she's happy and she's doing brilliantly, and that's what matters more than anything else. I need to take some perspective when it comes to other people's reactions and see the positive more... Dare I say it, be a bit more smug sometimes. A friend of mine recently had a little boy and suddenly before she or anyone else had blinked, he was a month old. She was sad about this. I told her she needed to embrace the change as they just get better and better.

Embrace the change. I need to take a leaf out of my own book.