No longer a babymomma

After a week since those first steps Felix is really getting the hang of walking, which means my Babymomma days are well and truly over. It's the end of an era.

But a new phase does lead to new discoveries, notably that Felix' walking currently resembles that of a heavy, plodding, somewhat malcoordinated monster navigating unknown territory.

Enter "Todzilla", most excellent new nickname.

Which makes Jambeans "Todzuki" - also very apt

just a quick rundown of events

Babymomma life currently consists of feeling quite ok alternating with somewhat subdued. I'm definitely over the weird/angry/why why why stage just after I lost my job and am moving on. A few whispy leads of potential work, but other than that the job market still has tumbleweed blowing right through it. I've settled in quite well to life at home with the kids, but still frequently yearn for more meaning in my life. I do, however, realise that life for me is a lot less stressful than when I was working. Or maybe, that it's a different, more manageable kind of stress. Am experiencing the most appalling weight crisis of my life, but somehow the biscuit tin keeps getting in the way of my diet which is just rubbish and leads to frequent bouts of self loathing because I know it's all in my control to fix.

Moving on.

Kids have been on great form. Felix has started to clap his hands, and bounce his body up and down to music, both if which he does with the most enormous grin on his face. He wakes up between 5.30am and 6am most days, and babbles and gurgles in his cot (totally divine) till one of us gives into the charm, heaves out of bed and brings him in with us for a wee scrumble. He's not walking yet, still cruising and climbing like a mad thing. Still got a great nose for trouble. This morning's particular trick was "posting crackers down the front of mummy's pajama top."

I've been fretting a lot about Jasmine's lack of physical stamina. With the exception of roly polys she can't or won't walk, run, jump, hop, climb, skip, swim or do anything vaguely resembling exercise. Bf keeps telling me over and over to deal with my negativity but I do experience enormous pangs of jealousy when I see children half her age jumping and running about all the time. That said renewed efforts to get her moving mean she's walking a lot more frequently, and for longer stretches than usual, but it's still a mammoth task of endurance to get her going and to stop whining. It does make the sense of achievement more satisfying when she does, happily, put one foot in front of the other and make tracks.

walking in ashridge

neglecting jambeans

jambeans, poor little thing, has been a bit neglected on the blog front. bit of an outrage since it's really her blog. so here's the rumpus:

exciting news is SHE'S WALKING. She can do an entire width of the living room quite confidently. Such an amazing milestone I can't believe I haven't rushed to the keyboard before now to mention it.

and she's trying to climb up/in/out of things.
and she's doing red indian impressions.
all seriously cool stuff.

not so exciting news is she got another virus hot on the heels of the last one. no bad chest this time - relief - but 2 full days and nights of 40 degree fever with calpol/ ibuprofen rejection coming towards the end of day2 and all on a weekend when the bf is on call. now i have caught whatever lurgi she had and doubtless bf will succumb before too long. it's been demanding to say the least (= babymomma is hanging by a thread).

in usual baby-bounce-back fashion she's been on good form today. we haven't, but as if we hadn't all suffered enough, pre-molar teething has also kicked in which is really painful. so her good mood and, most importantly, her sleep have been interspersed with serious bouts of shrieking and the inevitable meds rejection.

other thing is she's terribly clingy at the moment. she's deep into separation anxiety territory. which isn't so bad apart from the fact that it's exclusively mummy she wants. quite touching at first, in that 'mummy is best' kinda way. but that sentiment very quickly evolves into weariness at having, literally, to shoulder the baby burden. 'clingy' has reached levels of ridiculousness i wouldn't have thought imaginable, like having to take over from daddy doing the bath yesterday, because it was no good having mummy sit just outside the bath, a mere 15 cm away. No, it had to be mummy IN the bath so the bub can get as close as possible. but it's times like that you remember there's no reasoning with a littlun.

we keep telling ourselves we're going to be firm and ride out the toddler tantrums when she doesn't get her cuddle NOW. but then she screams so loud and her face goes bright red and she looks imploringly into my eyes, arms outstretched, with snot and tears pouring down her cheeks and into her mouth and i just succumb and think: 'next time. next time i will be an evil-gina-ford-type cow of a mum. right now i will reassure my little girl.'

Holiday

Jambeans started her holiday last Thursday evening by doing a poo in the bath. I was in it with her at the time and got out at a speed worthy of an Olympic Gold. What I was supposed to have done next was stay super calm and not show Jambeans that what she had done was in any way wrong or distressing. What I actually did was nakedly flap, squawk and hyperventilate for 20 minutes while screaming incoherently at the boyfried (who did stay calm and sort everything out). Jambeans was quite unhappy and (bf had fished her out of the bath by now) finished her poo amid screams of distress on the bathroom mat.

My score for that particular test in perfect parenting- FAIL.
Ho hum.

Set off on Friday to the West Country for the week. Got lots of sleep, visited the rellies, got fed, got (even) fat(ter), enjoyed the free babysitting, introduced Jambeans to the outlaws' dogs again, saw friends, went to 3 zoos and an aquarium, which was cool but admittedly was getting bored of them by the last one (which wasn't planned - we're not that zoo bonkers - it's just it was the nearest pit stop on the way home when Jambeans had enough of being cooped up in the car and started screaming).

Jambeans really enjoyed herself and smiled the whole way through. I totally fell in love with her all over again. She says 'dada' discriminately now. Also, on the last day, when we stopped off at mum's on the way home she rewarded us by taking 3 whole steps all by herself. Bf has been beaming with pride and calling her 'toddler' all day today (the usual 'darling princess bubfried' plus all the other silly nicknames still very much there too - it's gonna be a long time before they get binned)

She introduced us to 'holiday rules' sleeping, which basically means us putting her down at 7, her screaming until we give in and take her downstairs, then NOT sleeping until we drag her cute but sorry ass upstairs again at 9.30 then only falling asleep between the two of us on the not-really-big-enough-for-3-even-if-one-of-us-is-only-a-bub double bed and only then allowing us to transfer her to the travel cot.

We're paying for it now as she has spent the last half hour screaming and trying to climb out of her cot. Bf and I had a momentary 'dunno what to do' moment till images of Supernanny flashed into my head, where distraught mothers drag hissy-fitting toddlers back into bed for hours on end with no eye-contact, no cuddles, no talking etc. so have tried that and it seems to have worked.