So this is life

And the livin’ is easy

Its been a good few weeks since my last blog – about 6 to be (slightly more) precise. And I really have no excuse other than LIFE. It seems that it is possible to look after a child and do a job (albeit part time). Although, as every teacher knows – teaching ‘part time’ doesn’t really mean ‘part tme’, as you work at home on your ‘days off’ anyway!  But still – I’m definitely not complaining, life is good.


I even had a day to myself a few weeks ago. It was half term from school (I’m a teacher) and we had decided that Jude would still go to nursery on his normal days to try and keep some routine. This meant that I would have 2 whole days to myself. No Jude. The day came around and I dropped him to nursery in the morning, with every intention of getting lots of work done for school. That I managed, But I couldn’t believe how strange it was to be in the house alone. No Jude. No Steve. Just me and the cats. It was almost creepy! I missed him SO MUCH. I didn’t expect to! I am used to being away from Jude all day – I go to work. But being in the house without him was so strange, I hardly knew what to do with myself. By the second day of nursery I figured that perhaps I would feel better if I wasn’t in the house, so I took myself to school and worked there for the day instead. I also chose to try very hard to enjoy the time I had to myself – read a little, eat some food alone and enjoy it, etc. I think I could probably get used to savouring those moments in the future, should they occur again any time soon…

     

Being rather rash

We are now well into Autumn and the weather has been crisp and cold, just how I like it in winter – no rain please! Of course, Jude and I have spent hours running through crunchy leaves in the park and splashing in puddles (great after the rain has stopped!). Which brings me to my first small story… We bought Jude an (extremely cute) ‘puddlesuit’ as I strongly believe that all children should own one – afterall, they happen to be the ultimate in baby couture, and they’re perfect for when it’s pissing down and you don’t have a rain cover for the buggy as the zip broke on the unbelievably poorly designed cover. (Why has no one invented a better zip mechanism for these things??). Anyway. we took Jude out in the puddlesuit a few times – jumper underneath – and we had great fun. 


After our first ‘puddlesuit playtime’, we got home, took it off and it was soon bathtime. 

Jude had a rash. He wasn’t under the weather in himself, but (obviously), I did the glass test. The rash disappeared (phew). I didn’t think there was anything to worry about and assumed it would disappear soon. It didn’t. It got worse. I asked a few ‘medical’ friends and family what they thought and they suggested it might have been viral. I had assumed it was a heat rash from the puddlesuit. Afterall, rash appeared immediately after he started wearing it. And funnily enough, it disappeared once the rain stopped and he stopped wearing it…. I suppose we’ll never really know! I believe rain is forecast this weekend actually – I’ll soon find out if it was a heat rash or not! 

    

Accidental Damage

As I have been warned would happen, the accidents have increased somewhat since Jude became more confident on his feet. Jude usually bounces back pretty quickly, and we have tried to encourage him to ‘pick himself up, dust himself off, and carry on’ as much as possible – obviously, only when he clearly hasn’t injured himself. However. There was rather an horrendous incident a few weeks ago, involving Jude not doing as he was asked and a rose bush….

 Jude and I were playing in one of our local parks and we ventured into the area where there are lots of prettily-planted flower beds. (I was clearly not with it as I either a) didn’t notice they were roses, or b) didn’t realise the risk of taking a toddler into a rose bush ‘field’.) 

Jude was walking around on the grassy areas as I had thought/hoped he would do and having fun. However, he soon decided that that wasn’t entertaining enough, and started ‘teetering’ on the edge of one of the flower beds. I was a few metres away and I called him, telling him to come to me and not get in the flower bed. He didn’t listen, and tripped over the edge of the ‘dug out’ flower bed, falling face first into a rose tree – his face fitting perfectly between two extremely thorny branches. OH. MY. DEAR. GOD. I ran as fast as I could back towards my baby, who was wedged by his face, in a rose bush. I didn’t stop to think about how to remove him from the bush, I just picked him up as quickly as I could and cuddled his crying face into me, frantically trying to find his dummy to try and give him a little comfort. 


The cuts were all down one side of his face. They were bleeding and weeping and he was screaming in pain. “What the f**k should i do?” I thought to myself… Jude was also muddy from the flower bed and it had somehow gotten onto my hands. I rummaged around in my bag to try and find the wet wipes and clean my hands, before using another wipe to try and dab some of the blood from his face. The cuts were now extremely red and angry looking, but at least Jude had stopped crying. I took a photo and sent it to Steve to show him what had happened. I also sent him some pictures taken shortly afterwards, that showed his son happily playing with the ball we had taken with us, in order to show that, actually, he was ok. Jude had bounced back as he usually did, although his face, his poor face, was red and scratched and sore-looking. 
I decided that it would be unfair to take him home immediately – he’d already been punished enough – so we stayed to play a little more (away from any nasty rose bushes!). As you can imagine, passing other people soon made me feel like I needed to explain why my child looked like he’d been attacked by a cat, and he soon showed an interest in a dog that was being walked by a (lovely) lady. I hastily explained “he just tripped into one of the rose bushes over there”, and the lady said “Oh, haha, I thought it was biro! Don’t worry, there will be far worse to come”. 

THANK YOU LADY. Thank you for saying the best thing you could have to make me feel like I hadn’t been a terrible mother. Thank you for reminding me that kids will be kids, and luckily they were just shallow scratches (that actually disappeared within a week). Thank you for not judging me. Thank you for that amazing, perfect, ‘nothingy’ comment. It wasn’t ‘nothingy’ to me. 

As soon as we got home I doused Jude’s face in Sudocrem, then later on used diluted TCP and cotton wool to ensure the cuts were clean. Then more Sudocrem. Then more Sudocrem. Then more Sudocrem. It went a bit like this for the next few days. And thankfully it worked and there is no longer any evidence at all of the ‘dreaded rosebush day’. 

But I don’t think we’ll go to that area again. Not for a while anyway….

   

The dreaded ‘H’ word

Jude is now fully settled into nursery and he loves it. He goes 2 days a week while I’m in work and he’s always in a great mood when we pick him up, he’s happy and clearly likes the staff there. We couldn’t ask for more really. Actually, scratch that. If I could ask for more, I would ask that nursery be a completely germ-free place. 

My request comes after almost 3 weeks of our poor baby suffering from a common cold virus. The trouble is, he hasn’t reacted like we adults would, he’s been super duper poorly. Hospital poorly. Even A & E poorly!

Jude had been poorly for a week or so – you know, snotty nose etc – the signs of teething really. A few days into the second week of illness, he looked like he might have an eye infection, so I booked him an appointment and the doctor gave us drops for his eye and antibiotics for an ear infection (that I had no idea he had). The next day however, things seemed to get a little worse. His eye was fine, he didn’t seem to be suffering with his ear, but I watched him playing in our lounge and I noticed that his breathing seemed rather laboured. His tummy was working very hard, going in and out quite vigorously and he sounded terrible. I phoned my (pharmacist) mum and put speakerphone on so she could hear Jude’s breathing. Mum suggested phoning the doctors again. The doctor suggested A&E. Wow. That moved quickly. Steve had literally just left for work and mum had the car at work with her. I booked a taxi and flung a few essentials into a bag, along with a sleepsuit for Jude (in case we had to wait for hours), some toys and books, the ipad for final-option-entertainment-purposes and some snacks. When the taxi finally arrived we made our way to the hospital. I tried to text Steve a non-frantic message, but I failed. I worried him, he couldn’t leave work as he was in charge so I just did my best to update as frequently as possible. A&E was great – we went through to the children’s department and they assessed him immediately and began an inhaler treatment. I’m guessing baby + breathing problems = fast service. 

The lovely doctor soon told us we would be staying in (all of a sudden things felt more serious), so that Jude could have the continued treatment overnight to open his airways.  We were treated amazingly, everything was very efficient and all of the nurses and doctors we saw were amazing. We were discharged the following morning. 

Jude is now fully on the mend (after another brief hospital visit when he seemed to go downhill again). On the funny side, the inhaler medication he was treated with made him hyper. This meant that our overnight stay involved him shouting very loudly into the bed control like it was a phone, using it as a beater on the metal bed in order to make ‘music’, and me chasing him up and down the corridors trying to keep him quiet until the wee small hours. He eventually crashed at about 2am, only to be woken for more treatment at 3am! All necessary though I suppose. 


And all down to a common cold virus. Babies don’t cope as well as adults apparently?? Jude hasn’t been diagnosed with asthma, although his symptoms are the same as those associated with asthma. If we have more incidents like this he may well be diagnosed in the future. But this is just a bridge we’ll have to cross if we come to it! Babies are such complicated creatures! 

    

Siblings

Jude is 16 months old now and there have been many more new babies that have entered our lives since he was born. It’s always lovely to have babies around, but I have always found myself thinking ‘rather you than me love’. IfyouknowwhatImean. Some very good friends of ours have recently had their second baby (CONGRATULATIONS GUYS), and I suppose it got us thinking about the possibility of a sibling for Jude. We’ve always thought we would have another, but I suppose it’s a bit of a Taboo subject when you’re only getting 3 hours sleep a night! A while ago, a friend commented on social media that she was fed up of people continually asking her when she was going to have the next one. I don’t blame her – there is a societal expectation that once your baby gets to a year or so old, you will start planning for the next one. Another friend of mine has recently had her first baby and is already talking about the next one. I’ve told her she’s crazy! But in all honesty, every mother and father should simply have their next baby (if they want another), whenever the hell they like! What does it matter?? Here are some of the reasons behind ‘timings’ of second babies that I have heard (and thought myself): ‘I want them to be friends’. ‘I want them to play together’. ‘We can’t afford another’. ‘Lets wait until the first is in school’. ‘Hell no, I’m not having another for at least 10 years’. ‘I want them close together to get it over with and get back to work’. ‘Childcare is too expensive for one, let alone two’. ‘One of us would have to give up work’. ‘It would be nice if the first could help out a bit with the second’. ‘I want them to know they are going to be a big brother’. And so on and so forth….. 

I love having Jude on his own to dedicate all my time to. I would feel sorry for him if he had to share me. Then again, I loved having a brother, and Steve is a brother too – perhaps its natural for us to have another? 

Other bloggers scare me a little. Constance Hall springs to mind. She writes about the chaos of her own home and how difficult it is to run a home with quite a few kids. I can relate to her on some things, but I also feel like although Jude has brought his own amount of chaos to our lives, we still function quite well I think – but imagine having another baby too! Maybe it’s better to wait until he’s older? At the same time, we’ve just bought a house – we’re totally skint all the time! Then again,  how many people do you know that had loads of money when they had little ones? Everyone is skint at the beginning of building a family, right? 

As you can tell – it’s been on my mind a bit! But I can assure you, there is nothing on the cards just yet….. 

All in good time, all in good time:) 
And on that note, I shall love you and leave you! Goodbye for now, you lovely people x

Vomitville

CAUTION: ONLY READ THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU CAN COPE WITH SICK STORIES (no photos, I promise) 

I wanted to use a phrase like ‘a baptism of vomit’ or something like that, but it seemed a bit too gross. Then again, those mothers and fathers amongst you will know the extent of the grossness that is possible when you have a child. 

Jude picked up a bug. I think it was probably the Norovirus, but whatever it was,  it involved A LOT of vomiting followed by A LOT of diarreah. It began in the wee, small hours of a Friday night. He cried in the night, as usual. I went into his room to feed him, as usual. He had thrown up all over his bed. And there was food in it. Ewww. (Why does carrot always come out in vomit??)

Steve had to be in work the following morning at stupid o’clock, so I took Jude downstairs and we sat on the foam mats with a big bowl. For the next 3 hours. He continued to be sick over the next 3 hours but eventually I managed to get him off to sleep. Not unlike night’s we’ve had in the past when he’s woken up for 3 hours in the middle of the night! But the following morning he woke up and was still really poorly. That’s when the diarreah started. He would be right as rain for long periods; playing and happy, then he would start crying and shortly afterwards he would either be sick, or fill his nappy. He was really, really bad. The most worrying thing about this was that he would be dehydrated. I kept trying to feed him and was also giving him regular drinks of water, but he still had a few dry nappies that day… All in all, from first vomit to last, it was 21 hours. And what a hard slog it was too! Thankfully, my mum and dad came over during the daytime for a few hours, which enabled a little light relief. 

At the time, we didn’t know just how contagious he was. Turns out, 6 hours after Jude stopped throwing up, I started! And then my poor mum had it after that! Funnily enough, my dad and Steve managed to avoid it. Steve slept on the sofa bed for 2 nights just in case, and apparently that was what was needed!  Unfortunately there was no way I was ever going to avoid catching it as I had to be there, right in the thick of things when Jude was ill, and I wouldn’t have it any other way! (Well, except to not get ill myself perhaps!) Luckily, the day that I was struck down, Steve was off work, which meant that I was able to rest in between ‘episodes’, which definitely helped. 

I would like to say that that was the end of it for a number of months (at least), but sadly, there was to be more vom to come… Jude and I spent a good few days in the house and cancelled a number of meetings with friends. We returned to our signing class on the Thursday – 6 days after it all began. Jude had been well for 5 days and I had been well for 3-4. We were well and truly recovered. Or so I thought….

I’ve been up all night with a pukey baby and now he’s playing happily and I’m pooped!


I had foolishly booked a dentist appointment on the same morning that we have our Sing and Sign class. But there wasn’t really a problem, we could leave 15 minutes early and get there in time. So the time came, I packed us up and we went out to the car. Jude went in, I packed our bags into the car and got into the drivers seat. I gave Jude a snack for the journey as it was about that time and I didn’t want him to play up in the dentist. He took one look at the biscuit I had given him and threw up. Projectile vomited all over himself. Whilst sitting in the car seat. Poor, poor boy. It was like he didn’t fancy the taste of it, but couldn’t control his gag reflex or something. Oh dear oh dear…… So I had a baby in a car seat, both of which were covered in vomit. I got the car seat with Jude in it out of the car and went back into the venue we had just come out of. I made a beeline for the disabled loo (more floor space than than the baby changing room), removed Jude from the car seat, stripped him down (he was soaked through three layers of clothes and a nappy!), redressed him in a clean nappy and an almost-too-small-for-him onesie I happened to have in the changing bag. I left everything in the disabled loo and popped back into the S&S room, where our lovely class teacher was packing up. I basically threw Jude at her and said “he’s not ill, but he just puked!, please have him – I’ll be back in a sec!”. Bless her – she just said no worries and got on with it! I went back to the disabled loo and washed off his clothes, popped them into a carrier bag and started on the car seat. 

Good God. Car seats truly aren’t designed to have baby puke all over them. There are layers of padding and buckles and holes in the padding for the puke to sneak through. It’s virtually impossible to do anything without removing all of the covers! So I popped a muslin over the remains of the mess so that Jude didn’t have to sit directly on it and that was that. THANK YOU to Louise our lovely Sing and Sign teacher for having Jude while I was in my moment of need! And sorry to anyone who had to witness the grossness that ensued! 

It’s safe to say that I cancelled and rearranged my dentist appointment(!), took Jude (who by now was right as rain again) home, took all of the covers off the car seat and took a toothbrush to the buckles. There is now no evidence of that disgusting and disasterous hour (which was topped off by a parking ticket when we returned to the car for the second time!). 

Since then, Jude has been completely fine, but I can’t help but wonder whether he was just feeling a bit sensitive after his initial poorly day or two. If I’m destined to have a pukey baby, please make the episodes happen at home in the future!! 

       
Unusual communication

I have noticed that Steve and I have started having entire conversations ‘through Jude’. For example, if we’re out walking and there is a choice of route: through the park, or along the pavement. I will ask Jude “do you want to go through the park Jude”? Well really, we all know Jude can’t speak, therefore why am I even asking him? So that Steve will answer the question, that’s why. Another example is “what do you think Mummy and Daddy should have for tea Jude?” I will then expect Steve to suggest something for tea. We also call each other ‘Mummy’ and ‘Daddy’. E.g. “Mummy, can you grab a few nappies from upstairs please?”. The other day, I actually called Steve by his first name, and he was shocked! 

It’s such a weird thing to do, but I bet some of you out there do it too! 

Calling mummies out there! How many times has some random asked your baby (who cannot speak) “And what is your name?” So you have to answer for them. It’s weird. I find it really awkward. They weren’t talking to me, they clearly have no interest in me, they haven’t even looked at me, so is it not a bit weird that I have to answer their question??


       
In other news…

We’ve got 8 teeth! I was keeping an eye on the bottom-right-middle tooth, which I thought was looking like it might be next, then one day there were 4 at the top! The two outside-middle ones snuck through without us noticing. (Although, in hindsight he definitely suffered with them – snot, sleeplessness, the works! How did I not pick up on them?)

Jude has recently been standing unsupported. He usually does it when he’s distracted by holding an object in his hands. He begins leaning against the couch for example, then he leans away from the couch and is still standing up. This has also gone hand in hand with him taking a few steps himself! Steve and I have often played with him by sitting at opposite ends of the lounge and Jude will walk between us using the wooden walker/trolley type thing. He reaches me, I turn him around, he walks to Steve, Steve turns him around, and so on and so forth. Well, this week we have been doing it without the walker! We have sat much closer together, helped him to get his balance, and let go. He has taken 4 or 5 steps between us, unaided and he seems to LOVE it! It’s such a weird thing, trying to encourage your baby to walk, because although I want him to – he is definitely almost ready – I don’t want him to because once he’s walking there’s no turning back and he’ll be a walking, grown up, mischievous, monster forever. 


Jude has finally found his voice! He’s a right chatterbox and even says some noises that I’m convinced mean certain things. He says a sound that resembles ‘cat’, when he sees our cats. He also says ‘og’ a lot. He seems to talk to us; he looks us right in the eye and says sounds, as if he’s trying to tell us something. My mum and dad had Jude overnight the other night so we could stay out and play at a friend’s 30th birthday (Happy Birthday Jen!), and mum text to tell me that she thinks his first word is ‘cat’. So he performs for others too! I have a feeling there are plenty of people out there laughing at our silly excitement of having a baby who says actual words, when really they’re not words at all! But I don’t care, I told you we had an Einstein baby…..(!) 

    

Breastfeeding update

Well, we had got down to 3 feeds a day and things were going brilliantly – we were well on track to be on 2 feeds a day by the time I go back to work. Then Jude got ill. And I have been battling with him ever since to get back to 3 feeds a day. He fed a lot over the couple of days he was ill, because I was doing anything I could to keep him hydrated, but it has not been easy to get him back into the good habits of 3 breastfeeds a day. He will cry hysterically – no real tears, but proper shouting, tantrum crying when he wants a feed. He climbs up onto my lap and lies himself across my legs, crying and shouting loudly. I can’t use the word ‘Milk’ or the sign for milk in front of him as he thinks he’s getting it, so I now use the phrase ‘the M word’ or ‘a feed’, if I’m talking about it to someone in front of him. 

So I am having to schedule our days so that when he’s likely to want a feed (although that could be at any point at the moment), we are either out and about (distractions), or I can give him a snack. The trouble is, I only really want to give him 2 snack-times a day, and at the moment he’s asking for milk 4-5 times outside of his usual ‘milk times’. 

When he does feed, he is also feeding for longer than he ever has. I think he might be picking up on the fact I’m trying to take it away from him a bit, as he will suckle for 20-30 minutes at a time, change from one boob,to the other and back again, until they feel really sore and I’m convinced there’s no milk left!. It’s like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s getting so clever now, I feel like he understands what is going on. 

besties

Jude is 10 months old tomorrow and it feels as though the last month has seen him growing into a proper little boy. My friend Lowri has a little boy, Joseff, who is 2, and Jude is now able to play with him as he’s so mobile – he loves playing with other, older babies! It won’t be long before we’ll be celebrating keeping him alive and healthy for a whole year, and we’re not short on amazing stories of his journey so far. Crazy times, and I’m sure they are just going to keep coming!