In at the deep end.

Sitting on the tube en route to the office for the first time since April 2012.  I am not as heavy as i was back then nor am i wearing a 'baby on board ' badge but i am possibly more tired and have aged 5 years.

I have been up for almost 3 hours and achieved very little, tho i am dressed and made up and Boychild is tucked away nicely at nursery. He will have a great time I'm sure. I, however , will be on edge all day.

Head is thumping....prob from dehydration. Cried for about 3 hours yesterday and did 'guilt'  playing with him for most of the afternoon. This, of course, resulted in me not eating til almost 9 after having to do all my chores after he went to bed rather than me doing them 'with him helping' throughout the day. (Husb was away on business unfortunately but it gave us some quality mummy and sprog time) .

Husb returned not long after 9 last night and insisted on me telling him everything he had missed....poor love is a softer sap than I when it comes to Boychild.

Anyway, so far i have needed assistance in buying my travelcard  and a nice man on the South Ken platform asked me if i needed any help and called me 'lovely lady'.  I guess my squinty tired eyes and shellshocked face must have made me seem like an out-of-towner rather than than a professional yummy mummy - the look  i hoped to achieve when choosing my first day back outfit!

Oh well, there is always tomorrow to try again.

Back to work resolutions!

It's time for a change.  I'm not saying that I've 'let myself go' since having Boychild but I have relaxed things somewhat.  Don't misunderstand me, I will not leave the house without washing my hair and doing my make-up but the wardrobe has slipped somewhat.  Therefore I have made a decision that back to work is my 'New Year' and things have got to change.

1) Weight Watchers.  Got to be done.  Still a good 12lbs heavier than pre-pregnancy and I wasn't exactly svelte before then.  At least 24lbs heavier than on my wedding day which was less than 3 years ago.   Going to be 40 in 3 months time.  I refuse to be this fat and 40!

2) Dress for work. After spending the last year in stretch jeans, comfy shoes and hoodies, I need to smarten up.  My job doesn't need suits (positively frowned upon!) but smart jeans, heels, jackets and funky shirts are in order. That and ensuring I am not wearing something sporting baby vomit, baby snot or dried milk. 

3) Good underwear .  Finally bought some new bras last week.  Ones that fit rather than the preggy one-size-bigger efforts I was slobbing about in, but the pants....well, I know comfort has suddenly become more important than style but I'm way too young for granny pants on a daily basis.  Once back to work, a lunchtime visit to M&S without a buggy will definitely be a priority.

4) Ditch the maternity nighties. Probably too much information, but considering I slept pretty much naked for years and in the cold I might have found an oversized t-shirt, since Baby Boy was born I have stuck with the shapeless, long maternity nighties.  Not sexy.  Not attractive.  Certainly not conducive with maintaining nocturnal activities with Husb.

5)  Listen to some PROPER music. Knowing all the words to the song on 'Baby Jake' is not cool and won't cut it in the office.  I cannot wait to have the time to listen to my beloved ipod again.  It's been turned on twice since I had Boychild.

Back to the grindstone...

In four weeks time I will be returning to world of work.  Deep joy and rapture....

I've shocked myself.  I thought I would be desperate to get back to work by now but actually I am getting a little upset about leaving Boychild in a nursery almost every day.   I have never had a problem with working mothers or childcare - in this day and age, needs must.  And personally I do think that everyone needs a little adult conversation on a regular basis and Lord knows have I been lacking in that over the last few months!

But now the guilt has started.  Not from anyone else - I don't think anyway - but from me.  When I tell people I'm going back to work, I use the word 'unfortunately' when saying I'm going back full-time, and 'for now'.  I finally understand what Husb has been saying for the last 8 months about how much he misses Boychild each day especially if he doesn't make it home in time to bath him before he goes to bed.   I know I will see him every night but that will literally be all.  I will pick him up from nursery at 6.30 and by the time we get home the little munchkin will be getting in the bath and going to bed.  

So what to do?  Somehow I don't think there will be any record labels springing up in SE London and within a 30 minute commute any time soon, nor do I think I will find any similar work that will even come close to my salary closer to home so I guess I will have to just suck it up and accept that my working will, at least for now, be an investment for his future.  If I work now then hopefully I can drop down to part-time or career change in the next year or two once we're a little more financially secure.  I'm sure he'll forgive me!  Besides, what's so bad about being in a room full of toys and other kids to play with all day long?  He'll probably have more fun there than he does now watching me hoover!

So I had these romantic ideas about motherhood and blogging.  Thought I would be able to write about all the cool/funny/cute/revolting stuff I had experienced that day whilst my scrummy bundle of joy slept off his busy day.
The reality is that, like most parents, the evenings are spent clearing up, washing bottles, finally getting dinner 2 hours later than pre-baby and then collapsing on the sofa hoping the phone doesn't ring and trying to pretend to watch TV for an hour before falling into bed praying your little darling sleeps through for once.

But do I regret having a baby?  Not a bit.  I won't lie, I am exhausted most of the time and my body has yet to recover (I live in hope...) but Boychild really is one of the best things I have ever done.  He is funny, clever, foolhardy, slightly mental and extremely hyperactive.  But most importantly, he is mine and he's beautiful. I mean, who could not love this little face?

I just have to be more realistic about blogging.  No time to be clever or witty, all I need to do is remember all the stuff that makes me smile during the day and then do a quick blog when I get the chance.  Who needs an essay anyway? 

Mummy musings...

So I now have a whole host of things to irritate me that I never thought possible....

- Parent and child parking spaces are a godsend.  I never realised how much room you needed to get a baby seat out of a car before I had to do it.  I LOVE these spaces. But in Sainsbury's the other day I watched 2 people come back to the car in the space next to me with no pushchair or child.    This irked me to say the least, but they seemed to think it was fine as they had a disabled badge in the window.  The fact they both walked perfectly well and were both carrying a number of shopping bags seemed to suggest they were not that physically impaired.  Adding insult to injury, there was a whole row of empty disabled spaces in the car park (around 8 spots) and wondered how well it would be received if I parked in one of the disabled bays and used my child as the reason?

- Just having a baby/child seat in the back of your car also does not make it acceptable to park in one of the parent and child bays.  As the 'disabled' car pulled out of the space, a chap pulled into it.  2 child seats in the back but no kids.  I kid you not  - no pun intended.  Grrrrrrrr!

- I keep reading about babies of Boychild's age being 18, 20 and even 25lbs and wondering what on earth they are being fed.  He was over 8lb when he was born but didn't put on weight to start with.  Now he is just over 15lbs.  He's not tiny but he's no means big either (Husb and I are both pretty restricted on the leg front!). How the hell can a five month old baby be 25lbs??   I know a one year old who weighs that and she looks comfortably cuddly so what the heck does a 25lb baby of 5 months look like?

- I have started to hate clothes shopping.  Actually that's not strictly true.  I started hating it when i was pregnant but I had hoped that by now, I would have started to like it again.  I'm still too big for the pre-preg clothes but a size bigger is just a fraction too big.  aarrrggghhh!  And you have to speed shop too, whether you have the offspring with you or not.  If you do then you can't try anything on.  If you don't then you have to do it at breakneck speed as you have only a limited time without them.  Either way, it sucks and is really depressing.  Your daytime wardrobe can't really contain black/dark tops as you will be thrown up on about 3 times a day (or covered in drool or baby rice or any other yuk they have picked up) and your jeans MUST be stretch... you are on your knees or bending about 200 times a day.  And it must all be non-iron.  Who has time to iron when you have a baby?

- Nappy sacks.  Effectively carrier bags to put poo in.  So who the hell would want to pay over 2quid for a load of those?  Just discovered Sainsbury's basics  nappy sacks.... 12p.  Bloody marvellous.   Anyone who is prepared to pay lots of money for bags to put poo in, clearly has far too much of it (money, that is, not poo...).

One month later

It got  better. 

Well it had to really otherwise I may have thrown myself from a bridge.  I had a meltdown - it was pretty bad.  Completely lost it at my husband.   On that particular day I was hot, bothered, exhausted and covered in baby sick.  Boychild had been screaming all day and I just felt as though my life was over.  

5 months ago I was juggling a £1M budget and booking some of the best musicians in the world and now I was looking like shite wearing clothes my mother wouldn't be seen dead in (too fat for regular clothes and too thin for my maternity clothes), spending hours trying to clean the flat but not able too as my child wouldn't sleep for long enough (or allow me to put him down) so fed up of living in a pigsty, constantly washing bottles and trying desperately to keep my milk supply up (after the abominable mess made of breastfeeding caused partly by the midwives and partly by the bureaucratic arses at Kings College Hospital - another long story for another time) and having absolutely no life whatsoever as that would only be achievable with some energy - something I was clearly lacking.

Husband listened.  He didn't really understand and thought I was criticising him (I wasn't)  but he knew I was close to breaking point.

I stopped trying to be superwoman and also gave up fighting the losing battle of my own milk.  Husband therefore could do some of the night feeds.  He now does Friday and Saturday night feeds - I can't expect him to get up at 3am during the week when he has to go to work, I'm not that unreasonable.  I've still only been out alone 3 times but I can live with it.  2 on Friday nights so that hubby can do the feed and I can sleep and once to a Pilates class.  It's a vague hope of trying to get back my pre-baby bod and shake off the backache!

I also have given up being bothered about Freddie crying when we're out.  He needs to get used to it as needs must and one must shop occasionally!  Now I'm more relaxed, then he is too. I always knew that would happen but it's very tricky to implement when one is completely shattered. 

He still won't nap much  - 30 minute bursts  - but now he's older he will sit in his chair for a short while and watch me in the kitchen so I can at least clean all his bottles and prepare his feeds.

This morning he slept for 90 minutes whilst I attended a mum and baby fitness class - Pushy Mothers.  He loved it and I can barely move.  Lord, the last time I ached that much I had been beasted by a personal trainer in preparation for my wedding!  And that time, I got to come home, have a bath and cry quietly in the corner.  Today I had to come home, wash my sweaty face and change my t-shirt and carry on with looking after Baby Boy.   I must stink!  But I am so proud of my little one - he clearly loves being out in the fresh air and has absolutely no interest in watching me exercise!

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that he has got better - it's not perfect and I'm still not getting anywhere near enough sleep, but I can live like this and not feel like a total failure.  I'm even beginning to get quite sad about having to go back to work - something I never thought I would say.  People change I guess.

Long time no speak...

So it's been three months since my last post. Babies huh?
I knew other would hard but not this hard.

I watch mums walk up and down my road with their prams , and walk round the shops with sleeping babies and i wish i could do that. But i can't. I'm filled with dread whenever i consider going out alone. My son cries. Then when he's done crying, he cries some more. If you hold him and walk about he stops. If you push his pram cross country he will sleep . But if you want to stop moving or sit down, he will scream.  shopping is impossible. Housework is impossible. My life is impossible.

He is better around other people - he likes noise and voices. Unfortunately the radio and tv don't cut it.  it has to be other people. Even then it only works for a few minutes.

Perhaps if he gave in to sleep he would be in a better mood. I pay a fortune to an Osteopath each week to try to chill him out. We've done baby massage . It's fine while he's there but not when we leave.
As i am typing, on my phone as i can't possibly get the laptop out, he is laying on the floor screaming. I have spent 12 weeks cooing , soothing, cuddling, remaining calm and generally tying to be chilled. I tell myself it will get better. But it's  not so now i will just have to let him scream it out.
God i hope this gets better soon.
I am shattered.