Sunday, 19 March 2017

Survival Guide For Teething

We have entered the teething stage. Also known as The Realms Of Hell.
I thought I'd pretty much got used to everything being my fault and nothing I do being good enough with my five year old who has suddenly sprung the attitude of...well... me, circa 1998. But he's got nothing on my five month old in this new phase who has developed an even worse attitude of....well...me, circa 2000.
People who are unfamiliar with teething think you have a few days of an upset baby before a cute little milk tooth appears and we're all happy again.
WRONG!
It's not a few days. It's not even weeks. It's fucking months! Months I tell you! Endless days of being screamed at, endless poking at gums in the hope you'll feel one of those pesky peggy's poking through, and endless disappointment when you feel nothing but a rubbery gum. Again.

In these desperate times I've decided that I need to devise a list of do's and don'ts. A teething survival guide if you will. Something I can flick to in my time of need

A Puzzled Mummy's Teething Survival Guide.

1. DO use alcohol. For centuries women have been using this as a numbing solution for teething. Whiskey is the usual recommendation, however I've found that a bottle of wine or a strong gin usually numbs me sufficiently to the point where teething is just a walk (ok, stumble) in the park.

2. DON'T ask any of your more experienced mum friends if they remember the hell of teething. They won't. The trauma of teething is parallel to child birth. You forget. I forgot once myself. You're likely to get tales of how they woke up one day and their child had a full mouth of teeth without a whimper.                                     If you do mistakenly ask this question, refer back to point 1 and drink gin.

3. DO hold your child at arms length as soon as they've taken a dump. If you don't then prepare yourself for the warm feeling on your leg as their nappy leaks its contents all over their clothes and yours. Teething babies nappies are wet and runny.                    
Hold them at arms length and drink gin.

4. DON'T take offence when your child makes it clear that they fucking despise you. They really don't. Well, maybe they do at the minute. But think how pissed of you would be! Gum ache, choking on your own drool, the shits, and to top it off an unsightly rash round your mouth and glowing red cheeks. If the only thing that cheers them up includes you never leaving the room and simultaneously not making eye contact whilst holding them by an open window, then you're probably best just doing it. Hell hath no fury than a teething baby whose parents can't be controlled sufficiently.            
 Do as they demand and drink gin.

5. DO be cautious when breastfeeding. Your child's irritability and aggressive fist biting can be mistaken for hunger. Or maybe you just think a quick nursing sesh will provide some comfort, like I did yesterday. It was at this point I found out that when in the throes of teething my child fails to recognise the difference between my nipple and a teething ring. Ouch. So much ouch.
 But I was fine after a gin.


On a serious note. Do remember they're just a baby. They're your precious little bundle who is struggling to figure out what to do with themselves.
They need you to cuddle them. No they don't.
They need something to bite on, but not that.
They need sleep, but only an hour.
They want to play, but not here.

Refer back to point 1 and drink gin

Mummascribbles

Wednesday, 8 March 2017

I Am Woman Hear Me Roar

March 8th was International Women's Day. A day to celebrate and show solidarity as a group of women. A day to be proud of who we are. A day to stand together.
It sounds lovely doesn't it? Women supporting each other, building each other up. But is it reality?
Is it fuck.
Let me tell you a little story about March 8th 2017 - International Women's Day.
I was scrolling through Facebook when I noticed a post on a local Mums Group within my area. A lady was asking if she could share her business page. This particular business page offered a specific service that was free of charge. It was offering a personal handmade item for bereaved parents to bury with their angels who had passed away. The service was initiated through personal loss and was really just a bloody lovely idea that came from nothing but a kind and empathetic heart.
I wonder how many people who witnessed this post shared flowery lovey dovey memes on pregnancy and infant loss awareness month?
I wonder how many people who shared those memes watched as this lady was told she was unable to share her page on the wall as it was technically a business, because aside from the free service, she also made and sold clothing for babies (including preemies).
I wonder how many people who saw this rejection later saw an admin from the page share a special offer for a local business that included a giveaway of chocolate?
I wonder how many people who saw this special offer saw my comments questioning why this was allowed on the page when a free service for bereaved parents was not?
I wonder how many people who saw my comments also saw the admins response that she could bend the rules in regards to advertising if she wanted to and had chosen to do so because "she liked chocolate" and if I didn't like her choices that was up to me, but she knew what worked as she has been running this page for a number of years.
I don't need to wonder how many people saw my response to this (zero) because the thread was deleted and I was unable to retaliate to what was possibly the most insensitive and rudest person I have ever encountered.
So I'll write my response here. In the hope that my fellow women will stand with me.

Admin.
I'm really sorry that today on International Women's Day, and on any day really, you chose to completely undervalue your fellow women's opinions and feelings. I'm sorry that you felt a free service that catered towards the needs of bereaved mothers didn't deserve the same acknowledgment as some free chocolate. I'm sorry that when challenged about this you couldn't muster the courage to say "You're right. I have been insensitive" and instead chose to attempt to belittle me (the operative word being attempt) and use your authority on the page to bat down any opinion that I held. I'm sorry that you don't seem to have grasped that infant loss is very real, very relevant and extremely prevalent. I'm sorry that sharing supportive services for parents who have lost their babies doesn't "work for your page" as much as sharing free chocolate does.
But most of all, I'm sorry that you chose not to stand with your fellow women. And I'm sorry that Mothers may have seen your comments and now feel that their grief and need for support is something that shouldn't be spoken about. Should be silenced. Because it's not as interesting as chocolate.
What a joke.
So I'm using MY platform differently to the way you used yours. I'm using mine to say "Women! I support you. I stand by you. I will listen and be respectful of your opinions and experiences. I will stand up for you. I will speak up with you."

Because I am unable to stand by and keep my mouth closed to unjust and unfair behaviour.

I am Woman hear me roar.


*Those who are interested in the service mentioned above can find the Facebook Page Here

Sunday, 22 January 2017

The F****** Annoying Fives.

The terrible twos, the tyrannical threes, the fearsome fours. Sound familiar? They're cutesy names given to phases in a child's life to illustrate how god damn awful they are when they reach that particular age. Each new phase is worse than the last.
"Oooh terrible twos is nothing! Wait until they reach the tyrannical threes!" Is the type of thing you'll hear when you become a parent. Much like when you're pregnant and mention that you can't sleep - "oooh wait until they're born! Then you'll know what tired REALLY means!"

But do you know a phase I've never heard of? The stage my child is going through now. The one I've had to name myself because it appears that no-one has ever dared to mention it, never mind name it.

The fucking-annoying fives.

I have never IN MY LIFE met a creature who can grind my gears more than my five year old at present.

Do you have a question that you've always pondered the answer to? Is there life after death perhaps! Ask my five year old. He's a little know it all with an answer for everything.
Only yesterday did I get screamed at, full frontal in the face because the number 6 that was in bold black print in front of me WAS NOT A SIXXXXXX! because in my 32 years of life and after gaining a bachelor of science degree, I have not yet grasped the shape of a number 6. Not like my five year old who is working within the early years foundation stage and should have been born with 666 on his head.

Do you ever get the feeling your child isn't listening to you? When they get to the FA Fives they'll make sure you're more than aware they couldn't give a shit about anything you say. They'll talk over you, give a pained expression when you do speak, and then ask you the same question again that you've just spent 30 minutes answering. OR they will do my favourite thing at the minute (NOT) and blatantly place their hands over their ears as you speak.

Assholes


Maybe you're drinking your way through the terrible two's at present and think you know what it's like for a child to press all of your buttons. Perhaps you do. But a FA Five also knows how to press your buttons. And then some. And never fucking stops. Ever.
I'm pretty sure this is why they have to go to school. I can hardly survive a weekend of this back chatting, shit giving creature. Never mind a full week!

If you're a person who always blames yourself for things then you'll feel right at home when your child reaches five. Because you'll be blamed for EVERYTHING!
You'll be minding your own business in the kitchen when your child screams from the lounge because they tripped over a cushion on the floor that they "Told you to move!" And "You made them trip!"
Actually YOU told THEM to move it but they were too busy putting their hands over their ears and telling you it wasn't a cushion. It was a rock, and their only chance of survival in all this imaginary lava that was flooding the entire lounge.

Asshole.

So if the rumour is true, that each stage is worse than the last (and so far I'm kind of convinced), then who knows what the sixes will be like! And god help me when we reach the puberty stage. One can only imagine the grief.
So far, the only thing in common that each stage has, is that they continue to look like angels when they sleep. And you continue to feel guilty for your reactions to them through the day. And you continue to promise that tomorrow you will be more tolerant.

HA!