Trolley tot: Sonny Jim
EARLIER this week, I think I was in the same queue in the supermarket as the midwife who delivered Sonny Jim.
She had paid and was gathering up her bags as I wheeled my trolley with toddler aboard into line, so I only caught a glimpse. But it looked like her.
And it was the strangest thing.
For a moment, I was about to rush up to her. To show her how lovely the little boy who she guided into the world was growing up to be. To tell her all about him. To get him to give her one of his high-fives and waving hands.
And then I realised that she would probably have absolutely no idea who we were.
As snug as… a tiny Sonny Jim in a sling
Friends of ours are expecting twins (TWINS!!) next Spring.
We met up last weekend and after nattering all things baby for a bit, the mummy-to-be confessed that she felt totally clueless about all the stuff that she’d actually need when the babies arrive.
I was exactly the same. And there’s a whole huge industry out there preying on the ignorance of parents-to-be.
So here’s my mini list of the items I found most useful when Sonny Jim arrived. If you’re going to a baby shower any time soon, trust me, these will be a lot more helpful than an expensive newborn outfit that they are literally going to wear once… Continue reading
Summers as they were: Me (complete with a broken arm) with my little brothers and sister
MOTHERHOOD definitely does something funny to your brain.
When I was little our family holiday was always a week, spent in a caravan, somewhere along England’s south coast (apart from the one year we ventured to Wales, stayed in a chalet and it rained the entire time.)
They were lovely holidays – fun-filled and drama free – but I grew to hate the caravans. The fact the beds were so small that if you rolled over you rolled out. That unless it was baking hot (in which case you couldn’t get cool) then you were always a bit chilly – and everything just seemed, well, a bit damp. Continue reading
Soft play Sonny Jim: safe from sharp edges and hard floors
Since Sonny Jim started crawling a couple of months ago I’ve been desperately trying to wear the little menace out so as he stops wanting to continually open and close doors, climb up everything in sight and use any part of my anatomy that’s in range as a bouncy castle.
So soft play it was. Our first venture into this weird world was the Fun Factory, on the Purdeys Industrial Estate, in Rochford. Sonny Jim adored the slide, was terrified by the ball pit and crawled around free from his mum’s usual fretting about sharp edges and hard floors. Since that first trip though, I’ve realised that whatever soft play place you go to, there are always these kids hanging about too… Continue reading
Okay. I admit it. I’ve gone a *little* bit overboard this year. But it is my first baby’s first Christmas, and I figure if I can’t indulge my inner Mrs Claus this year, then when can I?
Anyway, in pursuit of the perfect festive-wear for Sonny Jim (there are rather a lot of outfits in his wardrobe. Xmas pud? Check. Elf? Check. Reindeer? Check. Candy cane sleepsuits? Check…) I’ve come across some really lovely outfits.
So, here are some of my favourites…
Baby Shoes Rudolph, £18.95, Annabel James
Penguin Sweater, £38.90, The Bonnie Mob Doppler at Crab and the Fox
Robin Baby Leggings, £10, Blade & Rose
Star sleeping bag, £79, Mira Mira
And some, ahem, bloody brilliant sleepsuits… Continue reading
#FedisBest as far as me and Sonny Jim are concerned
When I was pregnant with Sonny Jim there was absolutely no question in my mind that I would breastfeed my baby.
I was prepared for it to be painful, for cracked nipples, for leaking boobs, to deal with any tuts in public.
I was prepared for everything…except a baby that refused to be breastfed.
My little boy was what they call a reluctant feeder. He mastered latching on, but then totally refused to do anything more than four sucks.
This was the reason that despite a trouble-free labour (16 hours long, but just gas and air, and no stitches) we spent two nights in hospital. Continue reading
The pictures behind a single snap: Getting nice photos of babies is actually not that easy!
Posting pictures of your baby online – along with posting pictures of your pregnancy scans – can be a bit of a divisive subject.
Some are vehemently anti it – look at their Facebook/Twitter/Instagram page and you’ll find little trace of their little folk. Others share *literally* everything. On a daily basis you’ll know what the little mite has had for breakfast, lunch, dinner, every single activity they’ve been involved in, and quite possibly their bowel movements too.
I make no apology for being a bit of a #babybore (though with the exception of my husband and my NCT mummy chums I have never felt the need to keep people updated on how many poops Sonny Jim has had – yet.)