Mummy guilt…

Being a new mum does crazy things to your rational thought doesn’t it? Your other mummy friends, your mum, your granny, they can all tell you about this immense surge of love you’ll feel when you meet your baby and how those surges will continue and completely overwhelm you, but you just don’t understand until it happens.

No one says “you’ll love your baby so much it’ll hurt and you’ll cry. Lots.” No one says “you’ll look at your baby and as he/she smiles back at you, your heart will melt and your eyes will leak tears like a dodgy hose pipe”. And that’s all part of the nature of the mother. You are your baby’s everything. You instantly become a lioness; protecting your baby is your every mission and with that your head can go a bit c-razy!!!

I don’t mean to sound flippant with that choice of adjective; my posts tend to be light hearted and positive but I am totally understanding of the hardships women face having had a baby.

Anyway, my kinda crazy is this guilt thing again. Yesterday, I really wanted a bath. Not a long soak with soothing music playing and candles burning, just a dip in warm water and a place to shave my hideous gorilla legs in more comfort! But… I was hit with a wave of questions:

Do I really have time for this in the baby-feeding window? Will baby be ok on his playmat, in the bathroom, with me while I selfishly laze about? How selfish am I to want a bath?! Should I save the money on bath water for when baby needs one…?! Maybe just jump in the shower again?


All these questions were ridiculous because in the time I’d dilly-dallied about, I could’ve had two baths while baby slept!! But this is the crazy thing. I feel this guilt about even thinking about doing things for me which is mad because I still have to be me. I don’t-not pee in a day for fear of not being with my baby (why I used that example, I don’t know!) I have to eat to keep us both strong and healthy but I don’t think, oooooh you’re enjoying that food you selfish mother, no more enjoying stuff for you. It’s so silly.

So… I had my bath. I wasn’t long and baby did play quite happily with me within arm’s reach. All was fine. Relaxed, preened mummy.

Note to self and other mummies… you HAVE to have some YOU time; even if just a few minutes and don’t feel bad about it!!

Shopping…! Online all the way!

I salute any new mum who manages to get out the house fully dressed, equipped and on time as it becomes an unbelievably hard thing to do once a baby is involved.

My baby is now 10 weeks old and I thought it was time to venture to a shopping centre this week. I just wanted to look around a few shops; no big deal and with no intention to try anything on for me; nope, this was a trip for toys and baby clothes, something I never thought I’d be lucky enough to do. However, this trip was challenging…

I like to use a moby sling rather than do battle with a pram; why are they still so bloody hard to erect and collapse? Anyway, I’d no sooner arrived into John Lewis, the first shop, when my little man decided he didn’t want to be in the sling. Out he came and I was back to being the one-armed mummy I am at home. The looks I received from fellow shoppers was odd to say the least. Here I was thinking they’d coo and ahhh at my baby and ask my daft questions about his sleeping pattern; oh no, many just looked at me like I was mad and questioning where my designer pram with matching changing bag was. As a mother, I soon learned not to care what people think but even so!

Within minutes he needed feeding. Shock! So I trundled to the cafe thinking “I can do this breastfeeding malarkey in John Lewis, of course I can”. I bottled it (not the milk, my mission!) I left and headed for the nearest toilets only to find there was no baby change facility there so it was back to face the filling cafe!!

Cutting the long story short, I managed to have a coffee and a scone, find a secluded seat and feed my baby relatively discreetly. To make the most of the JL services, baby then decided to get rid of all the yummy milk I’d provided, by pooping for England, sending me on a mad dash to find the toilets which actually had the baby change facility!!

So, baby fed. Baby changed. Mum coffee’d. I headed to browse the baby clothes. No sooner had I got there when baby thought “hmmm, I’ve emptied my tummy, I must refuel” and so, there I stood, hoicking my boob out, again, in the middle of the baby grows trying to subtly feed my baby. I was about as subtle as a slap in the face and looked more like I was waiting to smuggle goods up my jumper the way I was browsing. But, again, when it comes to nursing your baby, there really are no limits to how low your dignity can fall because all that matters is that baby is OK!!! I have since, however, stuck to online shopping, safely ensconced on the sofa boobs out galore!

Bravo, mums!!

Tonight’s reflection is a well done!!
A very good friend said to me not long ago, “well done; you realise you’ve fed your baby which has kept him alive and well for 6 weeks”. I thought what a profound thing to say but she’s right. Seems so simple, but definitely deserves praise.? So much in motherhood deserves a “well done”, yet few of us are regularly said this to.  So here’s a list of achievements you might be familiar with and therefore, of which you should be proud.  Note, these aren’t necessarily mine, just things I think we achieve and have no idea that it’s praise-worthy.
1) managed to get out the house, in time, with both boobs in bra and baby dressed.
2) fed baby whilst eating cereal with left hand (disproportionately bloody hard!!)
3) filled car up with fuel at the pay at pump… Oh, and the right fuel too.
4) cat/dog/fish has been fed!!!
5) dodged a spew as muslin at the ready.
6) didn’t punch a random admirer who asked if my baby (at 6 weeks old) “slept through the night” – didn’t even answer with sarcasm.
7) DIDN’T have road rage with the arse who dared to drive within 200 yards of my bumper.
8 ) DID have road rage with the arse who dared to drive within 200 yards of my bumper (take your pic on the achievement here).
9) answered the door to the postman without a boob on show!
10) cooked some proper dinner despite the cupboards being bare.
11) went to a mum and baby group and survived.
12) ate a hot meal with two hands OR with one hand… both an achievement. In fact…
13) ate a hot meal
14) didn’t watch too much brain rot telly.
15) only watched brain rot telly whilst nursing baby all day.
16) didn’t get peed on!!!
17) didn’t get pooped on!!!
18) phoned the mother and didn’t cry/hang up on her.
19) washed hair.
20) loved, fed, cleaned, nurtured my baby.

All in all mums, jokes aside, we achieve one hell of a lot in very short amounts of time!

Here we go…

I’ve recently become a mummy for the first time at the tender age of 36 and felt the need to share some of my experiences; the joys and challenges, which motherhood brings.

In the early days of becoming a mummy, I found the nighttime one of my favourite times with my little one. It was like Christmas Eve, where I  knew I should have been asleep but something magical was keeping me awake. In this case, it was my baby. I know, for some, the incessant feeding, crying or colic is far from magical, but hold fire before you change your reading choice. I don’t have the perfect set-up and I’m far from super-mum but I, like all mums, am doing my best and the nighttime is where I like to share some of craziness which comes with being a new mummy. I hope you enjoy my posts…