Mums supporting mums: #thereforher
Do you know three mums? I’m pretty sure most of us do.
The thing is, statistically, one of them is struggling with a mental health issue – right now.
And all of them – especially new mums – are, probably, battling loneliness at some point each and every week.
This week though, it’s maternal mental health week. It shouldn’t take a campaign to remind us that mums matter, but us mamas are pretty good at putting everybody else’s needs before our own.
And it’s doing us no good. One of the most scary statistics I’ve read is that suicide is the leading direct cause of death for mums within the first year after their child is born. Continue reading
Post-tantrum: Sad times
It’s Sonny Jim’s birthday next week… but he’s made a bit of an early start on the terrible twos.
The tantrums and the oh-so-dramatic tears would actually be pretty funny if, a) they weren’t so loud and b) it wasn’t my child doing it.
I know I’m not the only mama who is trying to navigate their way through their days without triggering a scene that would leave the Hunk looking like a calm and rational being.
So, in the spirit of solidarity, here are some of the reasons my child has cried this week…
- The washing machine stopped
- I wouldn’t turn the street lights on
- I gave him his lunch (he wanted his lunch)
- I didn’t let him stand in dog poo
- The washing basket didn’t fit in the washing machine
Take the photo: Me and the boy who made me a mama
How many pictures do you have of your child?
If your little one is under ten, it’s probably in the thousands. Thanks to advances in technology, to camera phones and clouds, our children’s childhoods are captured like never before.
On an average day, I probably take dozens of Sonny Jim. And the odd video. I send a load to his daddy, documenting the minutia of his day. His funny faces when he wakes up. His little discoveries. His growing character.
I take a few selfies of the two of us too. Mostly when he’s fallen asleep on me, all cuddly and cute.
And I’m sort of our family’s unofficial photographer. When Sonny Jim dances with his daddy in the kitchen while he’s trying to iron his shirt for work, I grab my phone and capture it.
When he takes a minute out of being a one-toddler-whirlwind and clambers on to his daddy’s lap, I grab my phone and take a photo. Continue reading
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