Naming of favourite things…

Boo is learning new words.

Everyday something new comes out of her mouth and it can be anything random from Keys- to- Plane, Dog -to- Flower. 

Its completely at random.

Everytime she comes out with something new the ‘proud mother gene’ kicks in and my heart melts! πŸ’–

“Daddy” is her up most favourite- In words and in life. Closely followed by “Nanny” and then “Cake!” (Which is odd because we’re not really a cake- eating family) 

Anyway, I am often referred to as Nanny – on a daily/hourly basis. There is no sweet “Mummy” for me. I get the occasional “Muuum!” – teenage years already perfected!

I have been trying though- 

‘No darling, I’m not Nanny am I- I. AM. MUMMY’ 😐

I can’t wait for that day when she comes running up to me “Mummmyyyyyy” – you know like in the films. Super cute. πŸ’–πŸ’–

So, this morning at 8.30(ish)- aka. Coffee no. 3 – I was shocked to see/hear/watch/ witness Boo point to the t.v and identify EVERY member of Peppa Pigs family. EVERY-SINGLE-SODDING- ONE. πŸ˜‘

‘Peppa!’

‘Mummy Peppa’

‘Daddy Peppa’

‘Ooeerrrgggeee!’ 

OK- it’s not 100% correct but its closer than calling me “Nanny”!! 

I now know where I stand in the list of priorities;

Daddy,

Nanny,

Cake!

Peppa, 

Mummy Peppa,

Daddy Peppa, 

Oerge, 

Muuuuuum!

πŸ™ˆ

(She even Moo’d at the Cow on the left) 

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Beating Bedtime -save my sanity.

I am known for being the ice- queen when it comes to a strict bedtime routine. 

Both my children as a result (yes even the 4 month old) are good sleepers.

It’s fine to call me a bitch- most of my mummy-friends do… πŸ˜™

They go to bed between 6.30 and 7.30- in their own beds. Sleep through and generally-unless they are poorly – there is no fuss…

That is until we went on holiday. 

On holiday- their routine was broken – no particular bedtime (but no later than 9) – mummy would lay with Boo until she fell asleep (this is normally a no go in our house- its in bed, storytime, kiss good night and then out of the room), Boo would wake around 5ish on holiday and come and get into our bed- due to the heat- sunrise and lack of stairgate. 

Now- I know when you go away and routine is broken it takes a week or 2 to get back into routine- I was prepared for this. 

But we are on week 4.

WEEK-FUCKING-FOUR. πŸ˜πŸ”«

4 weeks of them both waking at random points in the night- I thought it was the time difference to start with, but now I know thats bollox.

It’s taken me 2 weeks to get Boo to go to bed without creating complete God-given-Mary-Hell. 

Literally- she would stand at her gate Screaming-spitting- “Mummy Stuck” – “Mummy Help” – “Mummy!” – “Daddy” – “Nanny”…. Anything to avoid going-to/ staying in bed- including shouting a questionable “C” word (it must have been Can’t πŸ™ˆ)

Anyway- we have cracked that now. πŸ‘

What we still haven’t cracked is her waking up EVERY hour from around 2am. 

I started off going to her, putting her back into bed- for fear of her waking her brother up– and settling her down. At some points I would lay with her. In her pint sized toddler bed, one leg off- one leg on, head on – ass off…not comfy. That soon went out the window once I realised she woke as soon as I left the room anyway. 😐

So, I spent a week just putting her back into bed and leaving the room-Not saying a word. That didn’t work.

I spent a week getting very cross whilst putting her back into bed and then leaving the room. That didn’t work either. 

I spent a week blaming her 4 month old brother whom she shares a room with- until I realised he sleeps through most of it.

So now I am on the final straw. I am on the fall-proof plan that I know works without fail but drives me and everyone else in the house NUTS whilst we go through the process. 

We’ve got to let her cry it out. 

I’m not ignoring her – well she thinks I am- but believe me- I have my eye so close on that monitor I may aswell be in the same room- and there is no-way anyone *aside from the Hubby, Big One and the Baby* can sleep through the constant wailing…

So – Me – It drives me Fucking Nuts – and yes the reason for this post at stupid o’clock is that she is in the middle of an hour long (nearly 2 hours actually) screaming match at the gate and I am slowly losing my mind and fighting the urge to go Bat-Shit crazy.

I’ve got to stay strong. 

I’ve got to hang on in there.

In order for me not to completely lose my shit- I decided to tweet instead… 

Wanna see? 

(Start at the bottom picture and work up- please note the times)

And hour and a half of this and she is STILL going…

Wish me luck people.

And if any of you see me pouring wine on my cornflakes…don’t judge- it maybe 7.30am but I’ve been up since 3. πŸ˜‘

#jokingnotjoking 

Twitter: MrsCharlieBetts 

Thank You…

As Random as this post is…

Thank You. 

To the lady in Boots, Fleet- this afternoon. Around 1.30ish.

Thank You. 

Boo – my 2 yr old was having one if those days where EVERYTHING was to much. Getting dressed made her stressed, putting on her shoes made her cry, walking seemed like an IMPOSSIBLE task. However, with her starting pre-school tomorrow we needed to “pop” into town to get her photo taken- for her Photo ID card.

It literally was an hour job-tops! 

We went to the photo shop- Spent 20 minutes trying to get her to Smile/Say Cheese/Look at the Camara/ Look at Mummy/ Boo just.look.this.general.direction. 😐
The outcome was this…(looks more like her first police mug-shot …!)

I digress… after getting her ‘mugshot’ (πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚) we nipped into boots before heading home- I needed to get some bits and bobs from the Baby section for her lunchbox…

Once in the required isle,Boo decided this was the prime time to lay on the floor- scream- kick- shout- and in general-throw herself around. 

Things turned ugly. 

I wouldnt say I was Embarressed. I would say -from the other mothers (in particular) I felt belittled. 

I saw the smug smiles as you manovered around her screaming body on the floor, whilst I stood in the que to pay. *thank god thats not my child- written all over your face* 

I hear the tuts as I tried to ‘bribe’ her with a banana – in my eyes unless it starts with a C- has 9 letters and ends in an E- its not a bribe- but none the less- I heard the tuts. 

There was 1 lady though. With her *I assume* teenage daughter- who offered to watch Boo whilst I went to the next isle along to get some raisins. She patiently stood very indescreetly at the end of the isle watching Boo (still on the floor) whilst I nipped around getting the bits I needed.

It may have seemed like a small gesture to you. But little did you know I have a 4 month old at home and between the two of them they have been poorly and leaving me with sleepless nights . So this ‘terrible-twos temper-tantrum’ was on the verge sending me plowing into the make-up counter changing my identity and running for the hills.

Until you, by the grace of god turned your eye on me and my daughter and gave us 5 minutes out of your day. 

You don’t know who I am, I don’t know who you are but…

Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. A Thousand Times Thank You 

Xx πŸ’– xX 

Everyone wants to sleep in myyyy bed…

Why? 

Our bed is the oldest – the most broken and sags on one side (- thats just me!)

And yet lately Boo spends a good 2 hrs during the night insisting her own (brand new) bed – “Hurt”. 😐

Now, I am renowned for being the Ice Queen when it comes to bedtime routine but I must confess, my confidence wavers ever so slightly at 5.30 am after putting Boo back into bed for the 8th time in 1 hr + 1/2… gently and in my best ‘super mum’ voice convincing her, “it doesn’t hurt darling – snuggle down and dream sweet dreams” *through gritted teeth* 

 I do have that momentary lapse of judgement at this time, when I think, 

Sod it, just get into my bloody bed. 

Luckily for me, right at that moment in time Hubby will roll over – usually assisted by a fart, a bum scratch or an over baringly loud snore and jolts me back into Ice Queen mode. 

It’s always Perfectly timed! 

F*ck that! Do I really want to share my side of the bed with a sweaty, smelly overly snuggley 2 year old. Whilst to the other side of me I have an equally as sweaty, smelly and very vocal snorer of a man (whom I love very much 😘)

Hmmmm….. No Thanks!! 

Bed is the only slice of sanity I get, away from the teeny-tiny terror (s) !! The only place in the house where I am not mum 1st and wife 2nd. But Wife 1st and Mum 2nd… 

I love all my sproglets to the moon and back but I draw the line at being punched, kicked and elbowed during the night. Whilst they sleep.  πŸ˜ I have enough of that during the day whilst they are awake.

No Thanks!

Sorry Princess your brand-new, pint-sized, memory-foam, super-sprung, over-priced bed might “Hurt” but Mummy’s keeping her old, broken, sagging bed to herself… ( and Daddy can come to) πŸ˜‰

Growing Up…

Sunday. The day of rest. 

Now, for us not overly religious types over the years this meaning changes – 

When your a child this roughly translates to –  a lay-in, homework, roast dinner, an afternoon family film and a bath and hair-wash before bed…

When you hit 18 – Sunday’s are made for hangovers, lounging on the sofa with a KFC bargain bucket (and gravy!!) Watching the Hollyoaks Omnibus and De-Briefing with your gal pals from the previous weekends events and gossip…

When you start a family of your own you find (as I have) that you become your Mother on Sunday… you spend the day doing housework, making sure the washing basket is empty, looking for a pair of matching black socks or a pair of un-laddered clean tights to go with school uniform- pestering your children about pre-mentioned uniform- 

“If I don’t get that uniform NOW Lou, you’ll be wearing it to school next week dirty! – I’m not waiting around all day…!” 

Of course, you do wait around all day- receiving the uniform at 8pm and then your evening is spent waiting for the uniform to finish its wash/tumble cycle and you don’t rest until you know said uniform is clean, dry and freshly hung up ready for the new week ahead. All the while cursing yourself for not being more forward thinking and washing everything on friday night.

As an adult, for me, the BEST about Sundays? 

The early night… peace and quiet from 7pm onwards…

Rock N Roll… 

3 days longer…

I am still learning. 

Having one more body – all be it a small one – in our house means, One more teeny tiny person who needs my attention. This means that EVERYTHING I want/need to do takes twice as long as it did before.

Getting dressed – pulling on the nearest item that doesnt have spit-up on it…

Showering – everyday…yeah right. Alone…forget it! 

Meal times – cold mush… usually cut up into 20 tiny pieces so I can feed Little A and ‘oversee’ Boo’s I-can-do-it-myself mealtimes whilst feed myself…

Bedtime – *touch wood* this has roughly stayed the same with Boo…for me though this is a sore subject…we currently don’t have one…

Work – this definately takes twice as long! It even takes twice as long just to switch on my brain let alone get any work actually done!

Leaving the house – why does that take so bloody long…!?! 10 minutes… 10-bloody-minutes this takes me now… I did however learn VERY quickly to strap Boo in first – then Little A. She has legs and knows how to use them!! When it comes to getting in the car she darts off around the car at a speed Usain Bolt would be proud of!! 

EVERYTHING takes forward thinking and planning, and needs to be timed around feeding – nappies and nap times… *Oh My!*

Payroll is a hefty – brain knackering – time consuming process that usually takes me the best part of one day to complete. 

Spreadsheet after spreadsheet of rotas and pound signs. Fun if you like that kind of stuff *which I do*  but it’s definately not something that can be done with 2 little people in tow. 

This month. The whole payroll process has taken me 4 days! 4 DAYS

This includes; ditching the little people with Daddy and various other people, taking my work to bed (who said romance was dead!) And getting up BEFORE the kids…

It still took me 4 days. 

*Bye Bye Babies* 

1. Q.T with Daddy.

2. Brain Ache.

3. Multi-tasking.

Next month I will have to start a week earlier than usual and I might get it completed by deadline. 

Thats the plan anyway. πŸ™ˆ

Epic Fail…

In an effort not to make Boo feel left out or ‘pushed aside’ since Little A’s arrival – I try wherever possible to include her in things with him so the green eyed monster doesnt rear its ugly head. 

Boo isn’t clingy to me and I wouldn’t class her as a ‘mummy’s girl’ so I wasn’t particularly worried about her getting jealous over Little A. However, I do find sometimes when I am feeding, she finds something super important that she needs me to get for her or something she wants to do with me. And only me. πŸ€” So now when feeding time comes, I make sure she has access to my free side and can sit next to me and snuggle in with us. We usually watch a film together whilst I feed. She can then see what I am doing and feels more included. This ‘strategy’ has been working and I find after 5 or 10 minutes the ‘fear’  (if you can call it that) disappears and she gets bored of us and toddles off to play.

Today was slightly different. 

Feeding time around 1pm. I get myself and Little A set up and ‘latched-on’ then invite Boo to join us. She wanders on over, sits next to me and hands me the remote. I put my free arm around her, cuddle her in and put on Ice Age – this weeks film of choice. Little A is happily feeding away and Boo is sitting nice and quietly.  Me- having seen this film millions of times my mind takes a vacation. 

About 10 minutes have passed when I feel Boos face gently fall forwards and rest on Arthurs leg. 

He doesnt seem bothered by this so I leave them to it… 

Another 5 minutes pass and I hear snoring coming from not one but BOTH children. 

*Apologies for the crazied expression and bad hair* 

At this point I realise that not only are both kids asleep but that the remote is completely out of reach. 😐 Hubby is not answering his phone and I am stuck. 😐Watching Ice Age. 😐 Again. 😐

Be aware. We started this film from the beginning…at the point I realised I was stuck – Manny and Diego were fighting over who was going to return the baby to the humans… (aka. RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING) 

The kids slept through the whole thing. 

Epic Fail. 

Text Book ‘New Mum’

Monday.

First day back at school after the Easter Break. (And what a lovely one it was to…) 

Little A’s first time on the school run -outside my womb of course- 

It went a little something like this…

After spending the morning working and tag-teaming Boo and Little A with Hubby, I very quickly found that the hours in my day were disappearing. Before I knew it, it was 12 noon and I was still in my PJ’s.(which Yes, I had done the morning school run in – but was under strict instruction from Lou not to get out of the car)  

Boo and Little A were both clean and dressed with clean teeth and brushed hair so it hadn’t been a complete fail – it was only me that looked homeless. I quickly came to the conclusion, in order for me to make the most of Boo’s nap time – which is now no longer than an hour tops! – I had to do the bank run in my PJ’s.

‘The bank run’ – this is never just a quick nip to ‘the bank’ and quite typically became – the bank, Natwest AND Barclays- Specsavers – The Post Office and the local Hardware store. All in my PJ’s… great. πŸ–’πŸ™ˆ

Luckily enough most of the people I saw out were either mums like myself who saw the newborn strapped to my front and gave me the knowing nod – or were little old ladies who were so distracted by the newborn, they didnt notice the PJ’s – unwashed hair and lack of human wit. 

Naturally – I digress.

So, after my lunchtime ‘Bank run’ PJ outing was over, I return home at 2pm. 2pm! The school run for me starts at 2.30 – my day and bleak plans for a cheeky nap had stuck their V’s up at me as they danced off into the sunset.

All I had time for was to feed Little A and Boo – whilst grabbing a sandwich for myself. 

2.30 comes and we are all fed πŸ‘but I realise I am STILL in my PJ’s πŸ‘Ž. Lucky for me I get a text from Lou saying she’s walking home with mates, which now gives me a 30 mins ‘free’ window of time before I leave for school no. 2 to collect Oona. 

SHOWER TIME! 

Heaven – this un-expected ‘free’ window of time means I can have a shower and get dressed. 

Can it be noted : I was fully prepared to do the 2nd school run of the day in my PJ’s.

The shower was amazing- the clothes were clean. I resembled someone slightly normal. I resembled someone who has got. this. shit. down. 😁 I was working the ‘new mum’ look – (the ‘good one’ not the ‘homeless one’… )

3pm comes – time to go. 

Boo’s coat and shoes are on – she has a clean bum and is in her buggy. Little A is fed and watered with a clean bum and is also already to go… I strap him to my front. My nice, clean, freshly showered front and what does he do…? 

He Throws Up. 

All over me.

All down my nice, clean, freshly showered front. 

Nice warm baby sick- in my clevage- running down my belly and settling in my belly button. 

Lovely. 😐

Of course, as the good lord would have it I am now against the clock and don’t have time to change. So have to do the entire school run covered in sick. *Epic Fail*

So to all those doting mums at the school gate this afternoon- who came over to ‘coo’ at my handsome little man and congratulate me on my perfect little bundle of joy. I apologise.

I apologise if we smelt alittle – off.

We nearly had it down. 

Very nearly… x

Pop!

My son has been in this world a little over 2 weeks now and I’m not in any rush to get back to ‘pre-pregnancy’ weight or shape – this may well be the last time I’m post baby ‘squidgey’ and so I’m going to enjoy it… (and to be even more honest – the lack of sleep combined with chaising after a 2 year old all day leaves me reaching for the Chocolate Easter Eggs even before my morning cup of tea). As many of you who know me know, I’m a stingey maternity shopper and now as a result have next to nothing that fits me in my wardrobe. 

So- with my ever shrinking stomach and ever growing ‘chesticles’ (Wahoo!) I decided I would try and see what the situation was with regards to clothes…old and new… 

What I am certain of is my pregnacy clothes are all now to big…

I wonder…

I dig out my pre-pregnancy jeans from under my bed (where they have been stashed away hidden from view since I was around 6 months pregnant). 

They’re on… up past my calves. 😊 Abit of a wiggle and they are up around my waist…granted they look painted on but they are up. πŸ˜ƒ

Im chuffed! 😁

Until Hubby points out that it would probably be frowned upon for me to wander around the pub with my trousers very obviously open and my knickers on show for the world to see…

So I try. 

I breath in. I wiggle. ALOT.  I lay on the bed. I jump up and down. I lean back…not sure why but it works. 
THE JEANS ARE DONE UP! 😊

I feel on top of the world! 😁😁

Its a massive ‘screw you’ (πŸ–•) to the baby blues I’ve been having of late. 

I’m dancing around the kitchen- *High Fiving* πŸ‘ everyone and anyone who comes in my path! 

I’m boogying…I’m wiggling…I’m strutting my stuff past Hubby, giving him the ‘look-how-sexy-your-wife-is’ look, when Pop

I’m not kidding P-O-P.

😣 Mortified. 😣

The zip AND button bust. 

Honestly, I couldnt believe it! What cruel world do we live in where I’m in my jeans- they’re up-they’re closed. Then it gives way- my gut, muffin top and back fat break free! Prison Break aint got nothing on my gut right now

That sound and image of looking down and seeing it all hanging back out – will stay with me forever. Honestly.

But Hey Ho! I’m only 2 1/2 weeks post labour and not in any rush. It just means I’ll have to spend a few more weeks in tracksuit bottoms looking slightly homeless… 

Deep joy. πŸ–’

(On the plus side…look how adorable my little man is…) 

So this happened…

Hi guys! 

Sorry I disappeared the last few weeks…

I find the last few weeks of pregnancy rather difficult – esp. Being surrounded by so many people (its a blessing and a curse) so rather than blogs coming from a moaning miserable pregnant woman I thought it best to give you a rest…

However, 8 days ago my handsome baby boy FINALLY greeted us with his presence -only 9 days later than planned. 

He was well behaved though and ‘shot out’ relatively quickly and with NO stitches 😊 *high five little man*. 

I was a total warrior and delivered only using Gas and Air. 😊

 *if there is a time to blow my own trumpet- this is it!!*

Daddy and Big One are chuffed to ribbons with our new addition – Hubby is enjoying the fact he’s not quite so out numbered in the household and Big Sissy is glad she wont have another grubby little pair of hands stealing her make-up brushes *although there’s no guarantees*

Boo isn’t overly fazed by the new arrival- every now and again she’ll peer over the side of the moses basket just to ‘check out the situation’. But to her he’s just another dolly…One that crys. And poops. 

Anyway- spoken like a true ‘new mum’ – I am completely in love. My heart has grown in ways I didnt know possible and even though I am still getting used to the ‘sprinkler system’ (have been caught off guard by that bad boy, a few times already this week) I have already forgotten all the shitty-miserable-pregnancy stuff and will jump on the wagon and say ‘ it is 100% worth it’…

SO…Ladies and Gents- without any further comment from me…

I’d like to introduce to you Arthur Edward Betts… 

Join me…as I adapt to a life with a Big One, a Boo and a Little A… 

Wish me luck!! 

πŸ’–πŸ’–πŸ’™