March 2008 Archives

Hubby and I have just performed a victory dance in the kitchen. Unbelievably - and only five attempts later - Mollie is asleep...upstairs...on her own. This is HUGE. I'd blog more but I'm off to celebrate my freedom with a bath...

Mollie's had it too easy for too long. She's six (weeks) now so all the cuddling and rocking her to sleep's got to stop.

That's the view of Daddy F who is determined to get our wayward daughter into a strict bedtime routine.

I'm all for patting her to sleep until she's a teenager but apparently that can result in sleep disorders so I've reluctantly agreed to obey my stern husband.

He's bathing her right now. Stage one of a revolutionary three-stage process: bath, story, bed that will be repeated at 7pm sharp, every night.

Best go; I'm being summonsed for storytelling duties!

Pregnancy should be a happy time when you look forward to your new child.

But all the advice given to expectant mums on what they can and cannot eat and drink makes it nine months of worry.

This week, a leading health watchdog changed its advice AGAIN on what is safe to drink during pregnancy.

After saying in the autumn that one small glass of wine daily was OK, the National Institute for Health and Clinical Excellence (NICE) is now saying pregnant women should not drink alcohol at all.

My little girl is growing up so fast; she was six yesterday; a whole six weeks! And - just like the parenting books said would happen - she celebrated the milestone by giving her first proper smile: a big, toothless, crooked grin.

The megawatt beam came in response to being called a pretty girl. So, since then, Mollie has been called a pretty girl precisely 652 times.

We've tried mixing it up, substituting clever, cheeky and gorgeous for pretty but to no avail. It's pretty or nothing. I'm so proud.

Last night Mollie cried non-stop from 9pm to 12 midnight until she passed out from exhaustion.

No amount of rocking, singing or feeding soothed her which leads me to think this may be the dreaded colic - helpfully described in my NHS manual as 'inconsolable crying for which there is no known cause'.

If anyone has a cure which has somehow bypassed the medical world, please do share...

I realised this morning I have New Mum Hair. Down at the post-natal groups, New Mum Hair is bigger than The Rachel was during the nineties.

Here's how you too can get the look...

Step One
Wash hair using Baby Shampoo; thanks to Mumnesia you forgot to buy the adult stuff whilst nappy shopping in Boots.

Step Two
Do nothing! Baby's crying so allow hair to dry naturally without the use of styling product or straightening iron.

Step Three
Apply baby sick to the ends and rub until sticky.

Step Four
Scrape back into a top knot using that scrunchie you haven't worn since 1983.

Tadaa! You're good to go.

Before having Mollie I had this vision of myself as an uber mum - a modern-day Mary Poppins who sang, played games and was practically perfect in every way.

In wilder fantasies I even used terry towelling nappies and grew my own veg.

Five weeks in, the reality has hit home. If I can remember all the words to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, it's a good day.

I'm left feeling vaguely guilty and a bit of a failure.

Two things make it all better again: Mollie's smile (and it is a smile, not wind) which instantly makes me feel like a superstar.

And other mums. A five-minute conversation with someone else who's tired and thinks they're doing everything wrong too is the best medicine of all. It makes you realise that there are no uber mums out there and, if there are, they've probably got a nanny.

Finally the boffins have confirmed what we mums have known all along - having a baby turns you a bit daft.

The very morning I started panicking because I'd forgotten my bank account number - the one I've had for 19 years - I turned on the TV to hear neuroscientists and psychiatrists confirm 'Mumnesia' as medical fact.

Apparently, plummeting oestrogen levels coupled with lack of sleep does have a devastating effect on the brain's ability to remember everyday things.

What no one is saying is when I can expect my brain back. Help!

Nevermind, I hear Kate Moss was an ugly baby.

Are you very worried about her development?

So when are you planning to get back in shape?

Someone takes after her daddy. She's gorgeous!

I'm pretty sure the chicken pox has cleared up. Is it OK if we pop round?

In an attempt to make friends with other mums and babies in our neighbourhood, Mollie and I went to a local breastfeeding support group this lunchtime.

I'd read somewhere that to win round other mums you should compliment their babies so I'd been practicing my cooing in the mirror all morning.

But once there, I came up against a whole new problem - how to admire a baby when you can't tell the sex?

Apart from Mollie who is quite clearly a very beautiful little girl, other people's babies are pretty androgynous looking.

And I'm thinking nothing scuppers a potential friendship more than calling the other mum's daughter a 'handsome wee fellow'.

Can anyone advise me how to get round this tricky issue?