My first ever blog. I apologise in advance.
Frankly, I have no idea what direction this blog will take. Most likely an outpouring of mum based thoughts, a few adventures and ponderings galore. I cannot foresee which topics I will cover either… my mind is as ‘free as the wind!!!’ I can pretty much guarantee I’ll refer to lots of boobies, babies, bums and babywearing so if you don’t have children, hate children or have a weak stomach; you should probably turn back now. I did warn you.
My ‘them’ is my 2-year-old boy (a former 28 weeker and actual legend) and 6 month old girl (a former 38 weeker and actual diva.)
As my firstborn arrived 12 weeks too early I didn’t get to read the last bit in the books about birth, recovery and breastfeeding, nor did I get to attend any antenatal classes. Before He was born, I honestly didn’t know how to do up a nappy. Suddenly, my bump had vanished, my baby was being kept alive in oversized Tupperware and I was plunged into the world of motherhood… without any kind of floatation device.
I didn’t know any other mums of premature babies, I’d certainly never seen a prem baby in real life, and even after he came home the advice written in books and given by my lovely Health Visitor, simply didn’t apply to my teeny tiny boy. I learnt on the job, wrote my own rules and learned to read my baby rather than a book. I stopped floundering and flew… all be it by the seat of my pants.
When my little diva was born, she was a chunky, term, 6lb 11oz beauty and I couldn’t believe my luck. A different human being altogether meant being her mum needed a whole bunch of new skills. She would probably meet all the developmental milestones I could read about in books, I could probably follow an ‘awesome’ sleep regime written by a well-known parenting author to the letter… but I realised I didn’t need to. I could follow my daughter’s lead just as I followed and continue to follow my son’s. My children don’t call the shots by any means… but in terms of ‘raising them’ my aim is to gently support them to become the amazing human beings they are destined to be.
Being a parent is hard… harder than I had imagined it could be. It is also the most incredible experience ever, rewarding and beautiful in so many ways.
I don’t claim to know everything or be ‘The Perfect Parent’ I am sure that parents of older children would snigger at my remarks thinking “You think this is hard?!! You have no idea of what’s to come in the future!” and they would be right. I have no idea. But I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it, at a speed and by means which best suits my family. Hey, we might even take a ferry.
Having my first baby taught me that when making ‘mum decisions’… chill out. Cave women had babies and kept them alive. I learnt to trust my own instinct… and if in doubt get back to basics. It helped to remind myself when worrying and googling absolutely every element of my firstborn’s development.. that I am just another animal on this planet raising her young.
Some days try my patience, other days I go to sleep wondering whether it would be really all that sensible to have 100 children and I consider where they could all sleep. When parenting goes well… I feel like an actual ninja. When it doesn’t, I feel like I’ve just tripped over my own feet in front of a crowd and I’m trying to pretend I didn’t.
So, for future reference..I guess my blog entries will mostly be all about my attempts to get my ninja on.
Feel free to comment and share your own ninja moves.