family Archives : Me, Annie Bee.

Technology at the dinner table.

Anna — Mon, 02 Oct 2017 12:49:32 +0000

“My child is not going to have electrical devices at the dinner table” We’ve all been there right? Sitting in a pub or restaurant with our small bundle of delight who is more than happy with cuddles and maybe a rattle. Across the way we see a four year old, head firmly in a phone or tablet and we put our judgey pants on. Fast forward three years and it’s your child sat there with the technology in his little mitts whilst someone over there puts their judgey pants on. Aoife was always happy with a book or some colouring so tech at the table wasn’t an issue with her. If we are having an impromptu meal out she is happy to sit and chat or play eye-spy. Seth on the other hand. Well. If we’re prepared he will play with his vehicles or whatever but if we have forgotten his trucks he will not sit still. He doesn’t do conversation or games, he will climb all over the place, try to get away and refuse to sit nicely. Unless a phone comes out. It used to be that looking at photos was enough to placate him but not any more. Now it has to be YouTube or Cbeebies. I am torn because on the one hand if it keeps the child from getting bored so they don’t disturb others then fine. Should it be the automatic go to? If the child is old enough to reason with then shouldn’t we be aiming for conversation? I still hold the romantic notion that meal time is sacred family time. A time to sit down with no distractions and catch up, talk about what’s going on in our lives and for us, a meal at home is just that. A meal out holds slightly different rules though. It’s still a lovely time to catch up but other people are sharing your space and deserve to have a meal in peace too. If letting your child play on a phone until the meal arrives ensures that they aren’t running around causing mayhem then that’s OK. Isn’t it? What about when they child is old enough to know better? Old enough to sit and have conversation without kicking off because they are bored? Should technology at the table be OK then? When Rory and I were in London a few weeks ago, we were in a restaurant and a family walked in. Mum, Dad and daughters who were maybe 12-14. They all sat at their table. The dad then went to sit at a different table. He was face timing or something and ate his meal away from his family. At the table the Mum was on her phone with her headphones in and checking out Facebook and the two girls were on their phones. Their meal arrived. They didn’t put their phones down to eat. They ate with one hand and held their phones with the other. Watching one of them trying to eat a BBQ chicken wing propped on a fork was a delight. I was mildly impressed at the skills. The only speaking was one daughter showing the other something on her phone. It seemed really sad that having gone out to enjoy a meal as a family they may as well have all gone out separately. *Grandma alert* We didn’t have this issue when I was a child. Is that because the mobile phone hadn’t been invented or because we weren’t taken out to eat as much? Did we just behave better in the olden days? I can’t decide if my issue is more with technology at the dinner table or the lost art of communication at meal time. Has one led directly to the other? Obviously taking photos to Instagram our meals isn’t included in this debate…

The post Technology at the dinner table. appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

8 signs you’re not a first time parent.

Anna — Mon, 22 May 2017 05:00:22 +0000

Recently a few of my friends have birthed babies. Some for the first time and some for the second. Watching them both has made me realised how much we do it differently the second time around. Let’s start at the start The Hospital Bag Baby 1 – the hospital bag is prepared about 2 months before the due date and it contains, amongst other things: Various copies of your birth plan so everyone knows what will happen and when. Healthy snacks to keep your energy up. Books and playing cards for some light reading and games while you coast through labour. A variety of outfits for baby, you don’t know what they’ll suit yet. A variety of outfits for you including big pants and nursing bras. Toiletries and make up so you’ll look your best when you leave. Baby 2 – the hospital bag is prepared about 2 days before the due date and it contains, amongst other things: Three creme eggs Phone charger Nightie Shower gel and shampoo. Babygro, vest and cardigan (this was left in the car and we had to buy new as B2 arrived quicker than expected) The First Night Baby 1 – With Aoife I just wanted to look at her in awe all night. I wanted to take in every last detail of her tiny little face and hands and watch while she slept peacefully. It didn’t matter that I’d been awake for 48 hours, I was smitten. Baby 2 – With Seth I wanted to sleep hard. I was away from the toddler and the boyfriend with a room to myself for one whole night. I KNEW this would be the best Seth would sleep for the next year, I was looking forward to a massive sleep. WHY DID THEY WAKE ME EVERY THREE HOURS?? (I know I had to feed him but still, it was harsh!) Baby ‘Things’ Baby 1 – Obviously being the first Aoife got pretty much everything new. Bedroom furniture, gender neutral clothes. We were given LOTS of lovely clothes by others too. We also invested in lots of ‘must haves’, baby monitors, nappy bin (pointless), wrap around carrier (couldn’t get away with it), anti colic teats (didn’t work), brand new sensory toys and wonderful lighty, noisy things like that. Baby 2 – The furniture was still OK so he got that. All the gender neutral clothes were OK so he got them. We chose to put the nappies in the actual bin, he had the second hand Mothercare carrier and a massive supply of gripe water and Infacol. Seth was largely a second hand baby, he played with pink toys a lot and dressed as Dorothy from Wizard of OZ and you know what? It didn’t matter to him. He loved it. It proved how much money we’d wasted buying loads of crap for Aoife. Baby Handling Baby 1 – Your newborn is held so delicately, like a Ming vase. Every nappy and outfit change takes an age in case an arm or leg should drop off your brand new bundle of precious. When baby naps you talk in hushed voices. You wouldn’t want to disturb her after all. Baby 2 – Nappies and outfits are changed at a speed that a Formula 1 pit crew would be jealous of. Baby is oft’ under an arm in a rugby ball fashion in order to get shit done. When baby sleeps there is no whispering and low tones. It’s chaos as usual. Baby 2 would sleep through a stampede of elephants. Feeding (not including initial breast or bottle as that’s NOT IMPORTANT) Baby 1 – Baby led weaning FTW. You make sugar and salt free meals for the family. You make scones and ‘healthy’ biscuits as per whomever wrote the latest book. Snack are grapes and blueberries, She sees these as a treat and she only drinks water. Baby 2– Baby led weaning book is repurchased and never opened. He is weaned on chicken nuggets and fish fingers (100% cod of course). He drinks squash like it’s going out of style and he says “chocolate” clearer than any other word. Any fruit, aside apples, are met with a big, fat “YUK”. Photographs Baby 1 – You take about 100 photos a day AND GET THEM PRINTED. They’re all in a box under your bed. Baby 2 – You take about 50 photos a day, on a good day. You’ve Instagrammed a few but you should really print some as there’ll be some awkward “where was I?” questions before long. Groups Baby 1 – You attend a variety, you need to meet ‘like minded people’ and baby needs friends. It’s VITAL for baby’s social development that she sing “The wheels on the bus” three times a week Baby 2 – You give them a miss. You don’t want to be the oldest mum there having all those young mums judging you and playing ‘my baby can’ besides, you’ve got PLENTY of friends thankyouverymuch and he meets his buddies for coffee and croissant (almond) at least once a week. TV Baby 1 – Has limited TV time, you let her have an hour a day of Cbeebies and that’s it. You don’t want to corrupt her tiny mind with silly words and songs. You’ll read a lot instead. Baby 2 – Watches TV all day long. You’re pretty sure those ‘silly words’ are the ‘alien words’ they talk about in phonics. Besides, his speech is coming along fantastically, he knows all the words to Despicable Me 1 & 2, The Minions AND Wreck it Ralph. He probably doesn’t need to know all the other words….. I’m sure I’ve missed LOADS of difference between bringing up baby 1 & 2. What are yours? If you like what you read, please consider nominating me for BiBs Fresh voice

The post 8 signs you’re not a first time parent. appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

We are family.

Anna — Mon, 06 Mar 2017 06:00:00 +0000

My favourite part of being our family of four is that we’re a unit. We stick together. We’re an invincible team. I love it! (My current least favourite thing is Seth keep hiding under his bed, shouting he’s stuck and refusing to come out but that’s a different story) However, I have been wondering recently if I am taking this togetherness, this camaraderie, too far. Let’s not stick things to my face. We don’t want to eat the sweet that fell in the drain. Let’s not pick that stick up. We don’t draw on the walls. We don’t nip each other. We don’t lick walls. We don’t need anymore sticks. We don’t lay on the floor in the rain. We don’t touch all the satsumas. We definitely don’t throw the satsumas, they’re not ours. We don’t leave half eaten apples under the couch. We don’t stick our hands up mummy’s top. Let’s not honk mummy’s boobs. We don’t throw plates. Let’s not touch other people. We don’t spit water down ourselves. We don’t climb on each other. We don’t push other people. We don’t snatch things. We don’t need to scream. Let’s use our indoor voices. We don’t want to jump in that puddle, we haven’t got our wellies on. Let’s not dig in that mud. We don’t pull the cat’s tail. We don’t bite. These are the things I’m saying all the time. ALL THE TIME. WE shouldn’t do that. LET US not touch that. I’m taking part of the responsibility for all the these things which seems rather unfair as I have no problem with touching what’s not mine. I share well, I don’t scream (although I rather feel like it at times), I don’t lay on the floor in the street, I don’t touch all the fruit in the supermarket and I don’t have an obsession with boobs so why do I say these things in such a way that I am taking part responsibility for them? Anyone listening would think I’m a gropey kleptomaniac bully who likes to lay down in public places whilst shouting! FYI I’m not. The Tale of Mummyhood

The post We are family. appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

Potty training – Woe

Anna — Mon, 27 Feb 2017 06:00:07 +0000

I lost a round of toddler Top Trumps with Aoife’s lack of potty skill when she was about two and a half, obviously this led me to think she was probably behind developmentally and the lack of potty skills would hinder her socially. She would go on to do badly at school and have no friends (you know, all those thoughts you have when the other mums brag about what their kids can do) and so decided we must get her on the potty. With Aoife it was easy, she was the eldest so we didn’t have to work round the school run. I read lots of ‘Top Tips’ and armed with this knowledge felt positive. We could lock ourselves away and just make it happen. We chose a week and decided to not leave the house at all, Aoife would wear pants and if she had an accident she would hate it so much that she would realise the answer was to use the potty. Brilliant. OR She would actually have an accident, she wouldn’t care less and she would just sit happily in her wet pants or throw them to one side carry on what she was doing. We moved onto plan B, sitting on the potty to read a book or maybe even watch Little Princess or something. She would wee on the potty, we’d cheer wildly and she would want to go on the potty all the time for she loved the cheering. OR She would actually just sit on the potty a while, watch her favourite show, stand up next to the potty and wee on the floor then settle back down onto the potty to read a book. We then went straight to plan ‘Bad Parenting’, we ventured into the world of treats. Aoife would wee on the potty, we would reward her with a chocolate ball, she would forevermore wee on the potty and we would successfully wean her off the chocolate balls. OR She would actually sit on the potty from 9am-5pm knowing that eventually a wee would fall out sooner or later and would be successfully caught in the potty, she would be rewarded and she didn’t have to try. She could just sit there all day being rewarded and catching accidental wees. Eventually, after much carpet cleaning and disinfecting we realised she just wasn’t up for it yet and decided to halt proceedings. THAT was when she decided she would use the potty herself. She still expected a chocolate ball in return but, left to her own devices, she just decided to go for it. It was probably the audience and the persuading (and MAYBE the time we nearly lost her down the toilet) that put her off. We had been making too big a deal of it. Now we’re coming to Seth’s turn, I see blogs and articles advising me of 10 sure fire ways to get him potty trained and I feel that feeling again, like we’re getting to the point where everyone else expects him to be trained. I don’t know whether to wait for him to decide or try to encourage him. Though my BIGGEST concern with Seth is that he’s a boy! Do I try to potty train him standing up or sitting down? If the former is the best idea then I don’t even know where to begin! Buckets all over the living room? Who says it’s easier with the second child! Help! This post was first published over at http://meetothermums.com

The post Potty training – Woe appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

Is the grass always greener on the other side?

Anna — Mon, 30 Jan 2017 07:00:41 +0000

My name is Anna and I have work envy. Recently a friend of mine has returned to work after maternity leave and I am positively jealous. Not only did she get a new hair do and wardrobe but she looked…I don’t know, more vibrant and less ‘mumsy’. When I became pregnant with Aoife I worked in customer services, it was just a job. My wage would have literally just covered the cost of childcare so we made the decision that rather than I work to pay for childcare with nothing left over, I would stay at home with baby and nothing left over. So I became a SAHM (or as I often mistype a SHAM, I’ve been called worse). I loathe the term ‘full time mummy’, it’s patronising to working mums, I would never call Rory a ‘part time daddy’ because he goes out to work. Anyway, I’ve digressed. As much as I love being a SAHM, I do feel like I have to justify my existence to people much more. If someone asks what I do, I mutter something like “Oh nothing, I’m just a mum”. It’s like I won’t offer an opinion as no one will listen because I’m ‘Just a Mum’, I don’t really need to go to the hairdressers because I’m ‘Just a Mum’. I don’t really need new ‘nice’ shoes as I’ll only wear them on the school run because I’m ‘Just a Mum’. Now don’t get me wrong, I love being ‘Just a Mum’ and I know that being ‘Just a Mum’ means being a cook, a cleaner, a nurse, a teacher, a destroyer of nightmares and a nurturer of dreams. It means being a talker, a listener, a hugger, a playmate and at times an assassin of fun. It means being good cop and bad cop. It means having a whole host of jobs, all most of which I love, but sometimes I think it must be lovely to go out to work. I could have an opinion that meant something to someone else. I could have a hot cup of coffee. I could impress someone over the age of 6. I could have a conversation with another adult about something non-poop related. I could have someone to say “What do you think Anna?” and have a response that would change the world (or make sense). I could have a work wardrobe of smart clothes (clothes without snot and food on). I could have a handbag without wet wipes, a spare nappy, snacks, pine cones, stones and a car in it. I could drop the kids off at 7.30, go to work, hope traffic isn’t bad, rush home, pick up the kids, put them to bed before doing some housework and going to bed. I could bring home stuff that I didn’t have time to do at the office and maybe do it at the weekend. I could sit listening to Geoff in accounts yap on instead of listening to Seth acting out Toy Story 2. I could spend the day clock watching, waiting for 5pm. I could write Post it note reminders instead of colouring in Paw Patrol pictures. I could maybe miss the school Nativity because Joan booked that afternoon off before I did… Hmmm with hindsight maybe I don’t have work envy at all. I quite like things as they are. Obviously this is just a speculation of how MY life as a working mum would be for me, Joan ALWAYS gets in her holidays first!?! All the working mums I know are super fantastic at it and I do envy/admire how great they are at leading two lives and making them both work! High Five working mums ^5. This post was originally published over at meetothermums.com

The post Is the grass always greener on the other side? appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

Weird stuff my kids do

Anna — Mon, 23 Jan 2017 06:00:34 +0000

Sometimes I sit and I think. I remember the days before children, my shallow, empty existence with a tidy house, organised life, variety of conversation topics and nights out in abundance. Then I look at my babies, sitting there, looking like butter wouldn’t melt, one of them eating the food in order of what they like least to best whilst the other tips it all on the floor because it tastes better from there and I think to myself… My children do some really weird shit. They can’t let the coasters be on the table. The coasters are ‘in the way’ if they’re on the table.They have to be on the floor instead. Ideally scattered. Not at Grandma’s though, at Grandma’s they stay on the table. If we go outside and it’s dark they have to squeal or make loud noises. They can’t use their inside voices when you’re on the phone or having a conversation but go virtually mute when you want information from them. They think running in circles is pure entertainment. It’s hilarious. Scientific research tells me this is the case to age 6 at least. They run nonstop laps in the house but as soon as they leave the house they can barely move. They spin in circles until they’re dizzy, fall and smack their heads off something then get up and do it again. They don’t like the food on their plate but the exact same food on your plate is fair game. They are tired but they won’t sleep. They turn off the light and close their bedroom door then have a hissy fit because the light is off and the door is closed. They stand on stuff, like a car or a box just because it’s there, they couldn’t walk round it or move it. They just stand there. On it. They eat a vast array of foods at school but only pasta and sauce will do at home. They believe there is a ‘wrong’ type of pasta and sauce despite it being exactly the same as the one before. They remember that time 3 months ago when you said “we’ll go to the park on *insert date 3 months from now* but they ‘forgot’ you asked them to put their shoes on 3 minutes ago. They tip stuff, just because. They don’t hear you ask them to tidy up toys but they hear chocolate being quietly opened in a different room, through closed doors. What weird stuff do your children do?

The post Weird stuff my kids do appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

You’ll never walk alone (with a toddler)

Anna — Mon, 16 Jan 2017 06:00:35 +0000

One of the THE most stressful part of my day is the walk home from school. It’s not far, a mile, it’s a slight incline all the way and it’s like being dragged about by a herd of rampaging wildebeest! It starts in the playground while we wait for Aoife, Seth sits on the floor in the mud. Sometimes he might have a little lay, a small roll around. I take a snack to try and keep him on his feet. He has been known to pick it off the floor and eat it. Then he has a little crawl in the mud, he is more than capable of walking but crawling is more fun. Interestingly he never crawled before he could walk. Once Aoife has been gathered the fun really begins. As we walk home he will stop to carefully select a stick, a few steps later he will discard that one for a bigger one, a few more steps and that one will be cast aside for what can only be described as a tree trunk. Thankfully with this windy weather of late there have been so many sticks to choose from. So many. Today he found a fantastic stick and proceeded to do his best Basil Fawlty impression on a complete strangers car! I try dragging him away but I swear his arms stretch. Next, I physically have to wrestle him from a pile of dog shit that he so desperately wants to stand in and I’m clearly the worst mummy for not letting him leap in it. Every puddle is stood in, every pile of leaves walked through and every grass verge traipsed on whether they’re in our line of walking or not. He has to touch every post and electricity box at a certain point on the way home. I sigh with despair knowing they’re probably covered in dog wee, hey, maybe even human wee. He has a little lie down on the way up the hill, every 5 metres maybe. When we are actually walking between rests he is turned around, back to back with me, facing back down the hill. My arm is constantly being wrenched out of its socket. He is blessed with a strength beyond his two and a half years, he possesses the strength of Thor Bjornsson! We get to the main road waiting to cross, he likes to tease the drivers, making out like he is going to step out in front of them. Obviously it won’t happen as I have a firm grip of him. Finally there’s a break in the traffic “let’s go” I say, Seth spots a stone he really needs, I trip over him, Aoife trips over me, we all land in a pile back on the curb and wait for another lull. Once we successfully start crossing he must stop in the middle of the road to jump a bit (as you do) or to watch the bus that’s heading directly toward us. “Bus!” he declares with glee. As we round the corner he attempts, sometimes successfully, to dehead some lovely rosebushes. I mean they were really lovely, the man in the house there puts a lot of time and effort into them. I should probably buy him some new roses… There are a few more piles of dog poo to fight over then we’re on the home stretch. He sticks his hand in the wheel of the neighbours 4×4, covers his hands in filth and then goes for a sprint finish. Once we get to the front door he says “ding dong” wanting me to lift him up to the bell. I look at him standing there. God knows what on his hands, in his hair, over his cherubic little face. “Not a chance”. The Tale of Mummyhood

The post You’ll never walk alone (with a toddler) appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

What kind of Mum are you?

Anna — Mon, 09 Jan 2017 07:00:16 +0000

As a blogging sort I spend a lot of time procrastinating writing. With deadlines looming there’s absolutely only one thing to do – a quick ‘Which DC character are you?’ quiz (Batman of course). Obviously, in the spirit of equality I must then do a ‘Which Marvel character are you?’ quiz (Thor – URGH, No one wants to be Thor) and then a ‘Which female superhero/villain are you?’ (Harley Quinn). As you can tell, I love a good quiz, I always have. It started with the Just Seventeen ‘What kind of friend are you?’ and spiralled from there. In homage to my love of quizzes, I decided to create my very own. So *drum roll* here it is, the one, the only, totally legit… WHAT KIND OF MUMMY ARE YOU? You hear your child shout “Mummy” for the 73rd time that morning, you: A) Reply “Yes darling?” B) Mutter “FFS” under your breath then “yes?” C) Shout “I’m changing my name and not telling you what it is” and stick a beer in the fridge to chill. It’s a rainy, Saturday afternoon, the kids are climbing the walls, you: A) Do some crafting? You always have glitter, glue and pompoms in case of emergency. B) Go to the park? It may be raining but there’ll be no queue for the swings and no OPC. C) Put them in front of the TV? They can enjoy Cbeebies while you drink gin in the kitchen and remember when Saturdays were about shopping for clothes. You finally get a babysitter so you can enjoy date night, you: A) Stay at home? You’re a family, you only do things as a unit now. B) Go for a meal? You spend the whole evening talking about the kids and call the babysitter to check they settled. C) Hammer the shots? You’re free! You’ll deal with the fall out tomorrow when the kids are climbing all over you. Your child wants a friend round for a play date, you: A) Spend time planning a themed play date? Creating games, outfits and even themed food, all homemade of course. B) Make a floor picnic? Maybe play some sedate party games too. C) Buy a couple of pizzas? Drink wine downstairs whilst trying to ignore the banging and crashing upstairs as they clearly trash your house. Your child’s school PTA needs helpers, you: A) Sign up for a variety of stalls? You’ll sell all your raffle tickets AND make enough cakes to single-handedly stock the cake stall. B) Start with the best of intentions? You’ll plan to be parent A but in reality you’ll reluctantly sign up to help at the 11th hour after the third, desperate, email has been sent from the PTA. C) Employ avoidance tactics? You spend a fortnight dropping your child off with the stealth of a ninja – avoiding all eye contact with PTA members and hiding behind trees. You’ll spend the school fayre having a pub lunch. Answers: If you answered mostly A – Congratulations, you’re a fantastic mum, you have your child’s best interests at heart. You love them with every breathe you take and they know that. If you answered mostly B – Congratulations, you’re a fantastic mum, you have your child’s best interests at heart. You love them with every breathe you take and they know that. If you answered mostly C – Congratulations, you’re a fantastic mum, you have your child’s best interests at heart. You love them with every breathe you take and they know that. You maybe drink a little too much though… We should meet up sometime! Cheers.

The post What kind of Mum are you? appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

The hardest thing about being a parent..IMO

Anna — Tue, 03 Jan 2017 21:29:49 +0000

Order is restored! Or at least something resembling order is restored. Aoife is back at school, Rory is back at work and Seth is watching Toy Story 2 back to back whilst dressed as Buzz Lightyear. Standard. Having been a lazy bum and taking a couple of weeks away from blogging and shameless self promotion I’m a bit tired so I decided to ease myself back into it gently and go for a Top Ten. Here’s the Top Ten things I found hardest about becoming a parent, or more specifically a Mummy for that’s what I am. Child Birth Yes, I know this is obvious but I didn’t read past week 33 in my ‘How to be pregnant’ book. It wasn’t all “oh my gosh, I peed myself…no wait my waters broke”…*scream like a banshee*….baby after 30 mins. It took days, neither child was in a hurry. It was painful, I sparkled, I cried, I was rude to the midwife, it was undignified, it was exhausting! Shitty Nappies Again yes, I’d HEARD about them but nothing. NOTHING can prepare you for an explosive, up the back, out the sides shitty nappy. The one where you have to hold legs in the air, cut baby out of the vest and wipe all at the same time.It’s on their hands, it’s on their feet, at least it’s not on….no way, how did it get there? IT’S ON THEIR HEAD. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE. Not laughing at ‘not good’ behaviour Obviously the biting and wall drawing isn’t a laughing matter, but the sass. Well, as much as I don’t admit it to Aoife, it’s HILARIOUS. Like the time Rory asked her to pick something up, she replied “Give me a minute woman”. Or the time I put her on the naughty step and took away her treats. “Will I still have food & water?” “Yes” “Oh I’ll be fine then”. Sometimes you just have to walk away and laugh. Without them knowing of course. Sneezing Coughing, laughing, crying, sparkling, running, dancing, jumping. All not just hard, almost impossible! Appreciating the things that are important to them Instead of being a destroyer of dreams and imagination, you have to appreciate every leaf/pine cone/stone/receipt placed into your bag because it’s “really beautiful” or “magic” or “stone”. It’s so hard to not point out your dismay at your handbag or pocket being full of snotty tissues and detritus. Being a parent ALL THE TIME. It’s nonstop! Even if you get some time away you think about them and talk about them. If you don’t think about them then you think how you should take it easy as you’re going to have to go home and be up with them in the night. If you have the kind of children that sleep through then you’re still thinking about looking after them with a hangover. The parenting just doesn’t stop! Finding a babysitter. When you announce you’re pregnant with your first child all your friends will tell you how excited they are and how they’ll babysit. LIES. As soon as baby arrives it becomes “I’ll babysit when they sleep through” then “I’ll take them to the pub at 18”. It’s not like the Babysitter Club books I read as a child!! Guilt Mummy Guilt/Daddy Guilt, call it what you want. It’s intense! Before children I didn’t do guilt but childbirth brings this whole new emotion. Every decision you make leads to a feeling of guilt. Everything you say leads to a feeling of guilt. Every time you leave them, every time you don’t. Every time you tell them off, every time you don’t. “I am too hard on them, I’m too soft on them, I’m abandoning them , I mollycoddle them” OH MY GOSH. I will also put crying in here. I have cried so much more in the last 6 years than I ever did in my previous 32! I have even cried at Four Weddings and CSI. Dealing with your body and mind It changes so much, at first it feels like it’s not your own. It gets big, it starts to behave differently. If you’re breast feeding it can feel like it’s completely someone else’s. It gets fatter due to ‘baby weight’, loneliness, sadness, boredom, habit. Your mind can be vicious, making you question everything. Making you paranoid. Making you feel bad about you and your parenting. Mix the two together and it’s a pretty rough time. I’d love to say you deal with it like this….but I still don’t have an answer. Baby groups/School playgrounds URGH. All these other Mummy’s just being amazing, looking fantastic and coping. They breastfeed so well, they look amazing, their children behave, some of them have actual jobs as well as being a mum. Their children love Baby Einstein and only listen to Beethoven, in fact, give Sebastian a toy piano and he can compose a tune, HE’S ONLY 8 MONTHS OLD! They never look harassed and have never dropped the F-Bomb in front of their children. When you’re tired, feeling fat and lonely THIS is one of the hardest things, this leads me to Pretending OK, I know I said Top Ten but I don’t like to conform. Being a parent is pretending all the time. We pretend we’re coping, we pretend we know what we’re doing, we pretend we’re happy with our smock dress, we pretend we’re not comparing ourselves to every other parent we see, we pretend every single minute of parenting is a breeze. It’s a tough act to keep up. We should all probably drop the pretending and then my Top Ten would be a legit Top Ten. Aside from all that, this parenting lark is a piece of cake.

The post The hardest thing about being a parent..IMO appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..

It’s the most wonderful time of the year…

Anna — Thu, 22 Dec 2016 15:04:26 +0000

Christmas is my favourite time of year, definitely my hap-happiest season of all. I watch too many made for TV Christmas films and aspire to romance that doesn’t exist that way, to live in a lovely lodge type home in Perfectville USA where everyone knows everyone and it snows at Christmas. To have garlands round the open fire, a Christmas tree in every room and throw amazing Christmas parties. Oh a girl can dream. We may not have parties for hosting, marshmallows for toasting or caroling out in the snow. Aside from our dying tree (it looks OK from afar, like outside) we are Christmas ready. Our bakes have been baked and our makes made. Gifts have been sent to the big man to see if we’re good enough to get them back. Aoife has broken up from school and both children are getting suitably giddy. Trev the turkey will arrive tomorrow, as will my parents, Rory will be off work and we will start a fun few festive days with lovely events, friends, family and good cheer. Hearts will be glowing as loved ones will be near. As I will be busy with all these holiday greetings and gay happy meetings when friends come to call, and wine, my little blog will be taking a break until New Year. But before I smother myself in eggnog and dive into a vat of rum (let the festivities begin!!) I just wanted to take a moment to say thank you. This year has been one of parenting ups and downs, mountains – ups and downs, running – ups and downs. It’s been an up and down kind of year and yet you’re still here. Although I’ve been at this for 11 months my blog still feels pretty new and I feel like a total noob, despite that, folk have still been reading and, for the most part, enjoying so thank you for taking the time out of your life and bothering to read what I write. My family and I wish you the most Merry Christmas and prosperous New Year. I hope yours is a time filled with good company, peace, joy, love and wine (or whatever it is that makes you truly happy). See you in 2017!

The post It’s the most wonderful time of the year… appeared first on Me, Annie Bee..