Dear Henry (January 2014)

My little Pigwidgeon,

I decided to write you a letter at the end of every month on my blog so we can look back at them together one day when you are a big boy. If I wrote them on paper I'd no doubt lose them so at least if they are written here we will always have them.

You are now 19 weeks old and weigh over 18 pounds! Mummy hasn't taken you to be weighed recently because we've been so busy. I'm still breastfeeding you and you are still refusing a bottle. You are even more stubborn than me and you scream and scream if we try to give you milk from a bottle or cup. I love feeding you though. I love that we get to cuddle up together and I can make everything better. I even love night feeds sometimes. I lie awake looking out of the window and I love that it's just us awake. One day I will be lying awake, looking out of the window worrying about where you are and hoping you'll soon be home. Don't grow up too fast little one.

Mummy and Daddy's lives have changed so much since we had you. You've changed so much too. 19 weeks ago ago you were a tiny little thing with little skinny legs, now you're just so big and gorgeous. Those skinny little legs are now covered with perfect chubby rolls and you coo and talk all day long. 

This month you've started being more interested in the tv and Daddy loves getting up with you early on a weekend and watching cartoons with you. Mummy even took you to a special baby cinema screening last week with your little baby friends. It was all about Nelson Mandela, I'll tell you more about him when you are bigger. You were a good boy in the cinema, I love taking you out with me.

Uncle Jon seems to be your favourite person at the moment, when you see him he makes you laugh and laugh...you watch him all the time when he's in the room, hoping he'll look at you and give you some attention. Your cousins love you too, especially Zach. We went to stay in Essex with them for the first time last week and you were a very good boy. All of our lovely friends enjoyed meeting you and you got some lovely presents too, such a lucky boy.

You have started rolling this month and you always want to be on your feet. Although I love that you are so strong and learning new things, it also makes me sad that you aren't a little baby anymore, you don't want to be rocked in people's arms or cuddled in...you just want to be off exploring. We are going to start you with some food next month so I'll tell you all about that in February's letter. I'm getting excited about making all of your purées. I think I might turn into a bit of a feeder like your Marmar!

Talking of Marmar, she loves you so much too. We see her most days and she misses you on the days that we don't see her. She sings you Nellie the Elephant and Clap a hands, you love it. She tells you stories about picnics in the summer, we can't wait till it's a bit warmer and we can go to the park with you. Your Parpar and Grandad love you too, everyone thinks you're just perfect. You met your great Nan at your christening and you've seen Great Gran Rose too. She thinks you're a very clever boy because you love reading books with Mummy. Your favourite is the Gruffalo, when we read it you 'talk' to the pictures, you can barely hear Mummy reading the words.

This month you've started noticing your little doggy friends more. George at home, Max at Marmar's and Lottie at Auntie Amy and Uncle Jon's house. You've started batting your hand around when George walks near you so you can stroke him and he's very gentle with you, all of the doggies are.

Anyway my little mouse, I better go because I am currently lying in bed with you after your nap and you are bored now. We are going to get up and dressed and go to baby massage class. Hopefully you'll be a good boy and not wriggle around too much!

I love you so much sweetheart, more and more every day. I am so glad that you are mine.

Mummy xxx

The one where I realise that I no longer matter...

A strange thing happened today. I felt like a proper mum. I am no longer a selfish individual, I am Mummy and will therefore always come second. The weird thing is I'm totally fine with it, it was just a strange realisation.

My brother had got me a cup final ticket for Wembley, I was excited to go, couldn't wait even. The plan was to stay in a hotel on the Saturday night then Mr B was going to have Henry for me while I was in the ground, but he was going to stay close in case of emergency feeds! We would then drive back Sunday night so Mr B was here for work on Monday. 

Then today I realised 2 things:

1) I couldn't justify spending £200+ on a weekend now that I'm only on statutory maternity pay. We are cutting back everywhere else and it'd be totally selfish of me to spend that in one weekend. Mr B thinks I should still go and we'll work it out but the new and improved, sensible adult in me can't do it. £200 is a lot of money, it could mean I can go back to work a little later than I planned or mean we don't have to say no if friends are meeting up and we can't afford to go.

2) The whole weekend would be crap for Henry. A long drive, staying in a travel cot in a hotel, new routine, being walked/driven around while Mummy is at the football and then potentially being fed on a wall outside the stadium if he's hungry (don't get me started on Wembley's licensing/breastfeeding policy !), a long drive home at bedtime...the list goes on. He'd be so much happier at home, and because I am still feeding him exclusively, he has to be where I am. That means I will be at home with him.

I have years ahead of me where I will want to spend my weekends with him and he'll be off playing football or out with friends or girlfriends. So I've made the decision that I'm going to make the most of my weekend at home with my boy. I'm not sure what we'll do yet but whatever it'll be will be great, because at the end of the day, we are both happiest when we are together.

My gorgeous boy

Don't have anything exciting to share today and I'm absolutely exhausted so today I just want to share a couple of pics of my gorgeous boy.

He makes my love stronger, days shorter, nights longer, purse lighter, washing pile bigger, our home happier. I love him so much.

Food, glorious food...

Now that Henry is over 4 months, weaning seems to be the next big milestone. There is SO much advice available, all completely contradictory. The 'official' advice from the NHS and WHO is not to start any solids until 26 weeks. They also advise not to withhold any food groups past 6 months because this can cause allergies. If you wanted to follow this advice it'd mean giving your baby every different food group on their very first day of weaning at 26 weeks. Seems a bit of common sense is needed there!

Then there is advice from other Mums, old and young. Some say the earlier the better, some swear that fussy eaters are fussy simply because they were weaned too late. Some say that late weaning is the way forward and there is no point in starting until the baby is ready, sitting up independently and able to feed themselves. Some say that it helped their baby to sleep better, others say it made no difference.

Baby rice was traditionally given as a first weaning food. Apparently it has no nutritional value so is ultimately pointless. A health visitor advised my friend that it was perfectly fine mixed with breast milk. See what I mean? There are contradictions everywhere, it seems that you just have to make a decision and go with it.

There's then the decision to do purée spoon feeding or to do baby led weaning. There seems to be a lot of scaremongering goes on that if you spoon feed, your baby will be obese but if you do baby led weaning your baby could choke and may not eat enough. You read what you think is a good piece of 'research', then later find out that the sample size was 12 babies...therefore totally pointless. I really wish I was able to read proper research and evidence myself and make a decision based on that but there is so little neutral, balanced evidence available that it is almost impossible.

Obviously everyone wants to do the best for their child and everyone's approach to weaning will be different...especially given the lack of consistency in advice, both official and from friends. I've read Annabel Karmel's Weaning book and it seems to be a pretty decent middle ground. It seems logical and sensible so I think we'll follow her advice loosely and just do what feels right. 

I've never been the best at making decisions, this motherhood lark is hard work!!

 

The average days

Since being on maternity leave, the days that I love most are just the average days. The days where we just sit home, play and snuggle. The days where perhaps Marmar will call in or we'll go for a walk with the pram. The days where Daddy gets home a bit early and we get a takeaway. The days where PJs are suitable attire for the whole day. The days spent watching the rain outside, drinking a warm cup of tea. The days that it's just us, me and my boy.

These are the days I'll miss most.

The school run

"How hard can it be to get them here on time for 9am?"

These are words that you would have heard coming from the mouth of Teacher Bee. Never again...

Yesterday I witnessed a school run from a mummy's point of view and I have to say, it turns out that it is VERY hard to get them there for 9am. Mummies on the school run, I salute you!

To be fair it was a more chaotic day than normal, my nephew's 3rd birthday. We were all up early to sing happy birthday and open presents...Henry and I still in our PJs, him smelling of sleep, me looking like a Mummy who'd been up 5 times in the night. My sister in law, however, was already showered and dressed, despite having been up late decorating the house with birthday banners and blowing up balloons. Breakfast was laid out all ready and the uniforms were clean and ironed, ready to put on. After the carnage of a 3 year old unwrapping his presents with an excited brother and sister watching on, it was breakfast time. Coaxing 3 children to eat a healthy breakfast is no easy task, I tell you. Whilst keeping an eye on who was stealing whose pancake and who had drank their milk, my sister in law was getting the packed lunches out and filling water bottles. The birthday boy was now demanding to open his new crayon set and his brother and sister were determined to get their hands on them too. Mummy came to the rescue and crisis was averted. I, meanwhile had just about managed to pour myself a glass of orange juice, still looking like I'd been dragged through that proverbial hedge, I might add. The children then needed their hair doing, clothes on and nagging to brush their teeth. As a teacher I've always admired the girls' hair when it's beautifully plaited, not a hair out of place. I always thought that when I had a daughter that's what her hair would be like for school. I can now say that my daughter will be lucky if her hair is brushed on a morning, the school run is way to stressful to include a fishtail plait as well! I can totally understand why my Mum gave me that horrendous pudding bowl haircut now. Surely that'll come back into fashion by the time I've had a daughter and she's at school, right?

At last everyone was ready and coats were brought out. Gloves were needed and so the search began. The smug teacher in me may have said something along the lines of "who sends their child to school without gloves on a day like today?" but now I know exactly why a child may not have gloves on. Trying to locate 3 separate pairs of children's gloves isn't easy at 8am...that's what pockets were invented for surely?!

The packed lunches were packed, money for snacks was put into a named envelope and homework and reading books were put into the correct bag. Finally they were ready for the off and the 3 children followed their mummy out to the car and off they went. I was ready for a nap, I'd never experienced so much activity on a morning. How they do that every day is totally beyond me. My sister in law is a hero, but I knew that already. They left and I looked around. It was like World War 3 had happened in that very living room. Wrapping paper everywhere, presents strewn across the room, discarded coats, odd gloves, water bottles. The kitchen didn't fare much better. Streamers from the birthday party poppers covered the floor, a sink full of washing up, buttery finger prints all over the bench...you get the idea. When I came back into the house later after visiting a friend, it was spotless again...like I said, my sister in law is a hero, I don't know how she does it.

So as a result of my new school run experience, I promise to never moan when the mums of children in my class forget the PE kit, dinner money, homework or school bag. I won't even judge when they send their son in with their daughter's swimming costume. I applaud you all for getting your children to school on time, in one piece. I can't say the school run is something I'm particularly looking forward to in years to come. I have to say, I will be making the most of a nice, quiet morning tomorrow but I will spare a thought for all of you school run mummies.

Getting our feet measured

In my brother's house, the only way the girls can escape for some girl time is to say they're popping to the shoe shop to have their feet measured. My nephews don't seem to have noticed that their sister gets her feet measured all the time and they only need theirs doing when they get their new school shoes in September!

So yesterday afternoon we popped out for an hour to 'get our feet measured' AKA coffee and cake time for the girls (and of course, Henry too).

The way Sunday nights should be spent...

Jamon Serrano, cheese and port. Heaven! I'm getting old...

Where Mother Nature went wrong...

Over the last year, I have been constantly amazed by Mother Nature. I was amazed by how my body became the perfect home for a growing baby, I was amazed by how my body knew exactly what to do in labour, it knew when to push and it knew how to love that tiny screaming baby totally unconditionally the second he was born. I was amazed that within seconds of him being born, my body had produced colostrum to feed him, full of antibodies and goodness, perfect for his tiny body. I was amazed in the coming weeks that my body just didn't need the same amount of sleep, where I'd gone from being a deep sleeper, I now woke when my baby's breathing changed slightly or when he moved his head in his sleep. Quite simply, Mother Nature is just amazing. 

Apart from one thing. One failing. Surely when a new mother is totally sleep deprived, her body should do everything it can to get sleep as soon as her baby is asleep. But no. I spend my nights lying wide awake staring at my little boy. I watch his chest rise and fall, over and over. I kiss his eye lids and every tiny finger. I whisper in the darkness and tell him how much I love him. I can't take my eyes off him. I may have only had an hours sleep all night, but it makes no difference. Watching a sleeping baby is possibly one of the best things in the world. It makes me appreciate everything, I think about how lucky I am and how much I adore that tiny sleeping human. How I'd do anything for him. 

But it has meant that I've lost hours of precious sleep at a time when I've needed those hours the most. So that's the one failing of my body...it has lost the ability to sleep anytime, anywhere. But I wouldn't change it for the world.

5 things I miss most about Essex...

1. The weather. As I was driving though Brentwood yesterday, my car informed me that it was 13 degrees...yes northern friends, that's not a typo...THIRTEEN degrees, not minus 13, thirteen whole degrees. Southern friends, you may be asking what the big deal is...if it reaches 13 degrees in July in Durham we wear shorts and flip flops...it's positively tropical weather. Jokes aside, I definitely miss those few degrees difference, especially at this time of year.

2. The restaurants. Mr B and I lived here when we had a big disposable income, pre-baby and mortgage! This meant that we ate out ALL the time. I miss the Lion Inn most of all. Their belly pork is the best ever. It's also where we spent many happy occasions, date nights, Valentine's days, the night before our wedding with our family. I think Mr B misses Omar's more, an amazing Indian up the road that serves the best fish curry in the world and lets you bring your own alcohol...heaven, if you are my husband. Essex is full of amazing restaurants and I miss them all (and the days of eating out 4 times a week...)

3. How busy it is. Ironically this is the thing that I hated when I lived here. I hated the traffic, the M25, the queuing. But when I come back I love how alive it is, how much is going on. I love how close it is to London and all that is going on there. I love how easy it is to travel around the county or abroad because of the transport links and airports. (I may retract this statement if I get stuck on the M25 or M11 on the way home with a crying baby!)

4. The places. Papermill Lock, Thorndon Park, Hylands Park, Lakeside, Bluewater, Maldon seafront, Barleylands, Marsh Farm, Stock Brook manor, Crondon Park, St Peter's church, South Weald. I could go on and on. Places filled with the happiest of memories.

5. The people. Essex folk have a bad name generally, TOWIE hasn't helped. All I can tell you is they are some of the loveliest, most genuine people I have ever met. I miss the children I used to teach, I miss their parents and I miss the ladies I used to work with; my Essex Mums. I miss my friends and neighbours (and doggy neighbours) and I miss my beautiful Essex family most of all. Some of my very favourite people in the world live in this county and ultimately that is the reason that I miss it so much.

Travelling with a baby....

So today I learnt that a 4 hour journey as a couple becomes an 8 hour journey as a family. I kid you not. We left Durham at 10am and arrived in Essex at 6pm. We didn't sit in traffic for a minute, it was the 4 month old in the back that slowed us down.

Where we used to turn the radio up and sing along (apart from when Mr B made is listen to Talksport...yawn!), we now sing baa baa black sheep over and over. Where we used to do anything to avoid bumps and potholes in the road, we actively seek them out because the bumpier the better for getting the baby to sleep! Where we used to run into the services and grab a McDonald's half way down, we now stop at every service station for a feed, nappy change and wander...anything to occupy the bored baby and get him out of his car seat. Where we used to pack a small suitcase between us, our car is now packed full to the roof...I'm surprised there's anything left behind at home. How can a tiny baby need so much stuff for a long weekend?!

Anyway we have finally arrived (I could have flown to New York in the same amount of time!!) and settled in. Henry is loving all his cousins' toys and the attention he's getting, and I'm loving being in a house full of The Nod's baking and some of my very favourite people in the world. 

Night night from lovely Essex x

Today's discovery...vanilla spice latte. Good fuel for long journeys!

You made me a mother

http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gZq62c82-h4

Sun'land 'till I die...

So despite being absolutely shattered by 8pm, I stayed up until last night to watch the football. Sunderland v Man Utd in the semi final of the cup. I couldn't sit down, I was nervous, I had my fist in my mouth at one point to stop myself from shouting out and waking the baby. Henry decided that the 3rd Sunderland penalty would be a good time to wake up so I watched the last penalties in the dark hallway whilst feeding and rocking him back to sleep. After I eventually got to bed, I couldn't sleep, I was so happy for the lads, our first final in the 'new' Wembley.

'Just a game' I hear you say. I'm afraid you couldn't be more wrong.

My whole family are mackems, it's in the blood. We started going to the games when we were really young. I can remember my brother, cousins and I dressed in our matching Sunderland tracksuits sitting in Roker Park in the bitter cold. I don't think we paid too much attention to the actual football, we were more into soaking up the atmosphere, giggling at the swearing and tucking into our mix ups and little bottles of Villa pop. A few years later we had season tickets at the new and improved Stadium of Light (minus the wooden floor for stamping, unfortunately) and it turned into a family event every fortnight. We'd go to Gran and Grandad's house on the way home for tea every week and I have such fond memories of those times. I remember crying all the way home from London to Durham when we lost in the play off final against Charlton...despite my Auntie telling me that only Geordies cried. I remember being promoted and going to watch the team's bus through Sunderland, the whole seafront packed with fans dressed in red and white. I remember holding Kevin Ball's hand and walking out as a mascot against Middlesborough and having a little kick about with Michael Gray, my favourite ever player. I remember the little section of grass in our old back garden...authentic Roker Park turf bought when we moved to the new stadium. I remember the feeling of winning a big game...against Newcastle ideally! My childhood is littered with memories of this football club.

So you see, it isn't just a game. It's a way of life. It's where memories are made and where you experience every emotion possible.

Now to get my hands on a ticket for the final...

Mummy to the rescue

Henry HATES bottles. He totally refuses to drink one now, he much prefers his mummy, none of this expressed milk rubbish!

On one hand it's beyond frustrating. It means I can't leave him for longer than a couple of hours at a time and I can't have the odd night off, no matter how tired I am or how willing Daddy is to take over.

On the other hand I love that he needs me and it's not just for milk. The milk in the bottle is exactly the same as the milk he gets from me, yet he doesn't want that. He wants the warmth of his Mummy and he wants the comfort that that brings. I love that I'm the only person in the world that can make everything ok. If he's cold, Mummy gets him a blanket. If he's hungry, Mummy feeds him. If he's hurting, Mummy stops the pain. He trusts me implicitly, I can always make everything ok.

From the moment that he was born I've worried about when he's all grown up and I can't make everything ok anymore. I joke that I want him to stay home and live with us forever. He is never allowed a girlfriend or to get married. 

I know that when he falls over and hurts his knees when he's 5, I'll be able to cuddle him, kiss away his tears and make everything ok. But I also know that when he doesn't get picked for the school football team, there's nothing I'll be able to say to make him feel better. I know that when a girl breaks his heart, I won't be able to do anything, he probably won't even want to talk about it with me. When he fails his driving test or doesn't get into the university that he's chosen, there will be nothing I can do to stop him hurting and as a Mummy that is the worst feeling in the world. I never want my baby to grow up.

I need to try to enjoy every second of being his super hero, I know it won't last forever. So when he looks up at me from his cot at 3am with his gorgeous brown eyes, instead of sighing at the prospect of yet another night feed, I need to pick him up, kiss his soft cheeks, breathe in his gorgeous scent and remember that one day I will give anything to be back here...just me and him in the middle of the night.

What I Ate Wednesday

I've seen loads of bloggers that do a 'What I ate Wednesday' post each week so thought I'd give it a go today.

For breakfast I had some jammy toast and a Greek style corner yogurt. I also had a glass of apple and mango juice. I always find that I'm starving at breakfast time because I'm feeding Henry all night long so breakfast is important.

As a snack I had popcorn at the cinema. Here's my little friend looking longingly at it (after he'd spilt half on the floor)!

For lunch I met my Mum at M&S cafe and I had egg sandwiches and a yogurt and granola pot. To drink I had orange juice with sparkling spring water.

For dinner we had tagliatelle with spicy meatballs and tomato sauce with peppers and chorizo. We had it with warm garlic and red onion bread. This was a Marmar dinner...thanks Mum, was a treat not to have to cook.

I've just bathed Henry, read his story, fed him and got him to bed, so I've finally sat down to watch the Sunderland match and this is my treat for the evening! Rolo biscuits.

Hope you've all had a good Wednesday x

Bringing In Baby - Cinema trip

Today Henry and I went to the cinema with our mummy and baby friends to see Mandela: Long walk to freedom. It was on at Tyneside cinema as part of their Bringing in Baby screenings which are basically adult films that are baby friendly; lights turned up, sound turned down and more importantly, no one to frown when your baby is screaming for a feed or filling their nappy rather loudly!

It was lovely to do something normal, something we probably would have done if we didn't have the boys with us. As much as we all enjoy baby groups, they are very much aimed at the babies and so it was a bit of a treat to go to the cinema...something I haven't done in months. We even treated ourselves to popcorn...which Henry promptly kicked over after being in the cinema for about 30 seconds! I was really surprised at how well behaved he was. He had a couple of feeds, nappy changes and a nap and apart from that, sat glued to the screen! I think he's going to be a bit of a tele-head like his Dad!

The film was really good, it's probably not something I would have chosen to go and see, our cinema time is precious these days so we'd have to reeeeally want to see something before arranging a babysitter for Henry and making it out of the house on an evening! The thing that stood out to me about the film was just how recently all of the events took place...it's scary to think of it like that. We spend so much time talking about how terrible the 'youth of today' are, how traditional values have been all but forgotten and how much the world is changing. But in terms of racism, segregation and hatred of any kind, we are moving in the right direction and I'm happy that my baby will be able to grow up in a free world. I'm glad that he can be open minded and inclusive of all of his fellow humans. The famous Mandela quote at the end of the film said it all really:

"No one is born hating another person because of the colour of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love, for love comes more naturally to the human heart than its opposite."

Nelson Mandela 

Writers'/Writer's block...

I have writer's block and to top it off, I can't work out where the apostrophe should go.

Is it a singular writer (me) or writers in general (plural)??? Google doesn't have the answer so I will continue to ponder this some more while I consider my next blog post.

I'm finding this blogging thing a bit weird. I've had over 500 views of my post about  smug mummies, yet in terms of any feedback I only have a comment from my mum and friend at the bottom of the post. I know this is the point in blogging but I just find it a bit bizarre. People might think I talk a load of crap and totally disagree with everything I write...and I wouldn't know. I find it odd that when I check the stats of my blog I can see that someone reads my blog from Serbia (hi to that person, whoever you are!) but I don't know anything about that person. Maybe I care too much about what people think? I don't know.

I'm trying to work out who I'm writing for. It started out as a blog just for me to record our year and as an outlet for thoughts and rants...but then 500 people read a post and now I'm aware of who is reading and what they're thinking and it seems to have become a blog for other people. And if that's the case, what do I write about? Do people really care what I have to say about weaning or what I think about the education policy in this country? Do they really want to see pictures of our weekend or what I had for dinner?

Hmm, I'm not sure I'm cut out for this blogging lark. Leave me a comment below if you have any answers or if you know where the apostrophe goes in the title...

Our weekend, in pictures

After last week's disastrous weekend where we were both ill, this weekend was much better! We've really chilled out and I've had 2 lie-ins thanks to some early morning Daddy and son bonding.

Here is Henry catching some zzzs in his big boy cot. So peaceful!

Henry rocking his new Ralph Lauren all in one. So cute. He decided to get dressed up for our family lunch.

El Coto tapas for lunch. Good food, wine and my 2 boys for company. What a treat.

Me and the little one at lunch.

Watching some football at home. Henry LOVES the football. When it's on, he strains his head to look at it and won't pay attention to anything else. I think it must be the bright colours...either that or he definitely takes after his daddy!

Baby and doggy playtime. Cutie pies.

Sunday has been a good nap day. Henry fell asleep on the way home from Marmar's and then had a 2 hour nap this afternoon, so Rob and I took advantage and had one too. Lovely way to end the weekend.

Hope you all had a good one too xxx

Baby 'stuff'

When having a baby, particularly your first, it's easy to go mad in Mothercare. You are somehow talked into spending £800 on a pram and leave the shop feeling like you've got a bargain, thanks to the shop assistant's amazing sales skills....these women could sell ice to the eskimos. (Just for the record, I absolutely did not spend £800 on a pram, but I know plenty of people who have.) I remember being in Mothercare one Saturday afternoon looking at a Silver Cross travel system and the assistant used the word 'reasonable' to describe the carrycot that fit the chassis....it cost £500. You can buy a second hand car for that much money. How can they sell a carrycot with no wheels for that much money and then have the cheek to call it reasonable?!  I think for the whole pram package it worked out at close to £1000.

Our pram has probably been used 20 times in 4 months...it's probably the biggest waste of money that we've ever spent. Henry MUCH prefers his Connecta sling, it takes up no boot space whatsoever and doesn't get my carpet dirty when we bring it into the house after a muddy walk! 

It got me thinking about the things that we are told we MUST have before having a baby, but actually turn out to be an absolute waste of money. On the other hand are things we find that we can't live without that no one even mentioned before the baby was born.

Cot beds are all the rage now. Usually solid oak and nearly always expensive. The fact that I can't afford to sleep in an expensive solid oak bed is besides the point. Apparently it's cruel for a baby to sleep in anything less. I'd be a bad parent to buy a cheap Ikea cot wouldn't I?! The sales assistants try to con you and tell you that the £600 cot is actually a bargain because it converts into a toddler bed and so it will actually last for years. When I was a toddler I distinctly remember drawing on my bed with crayons and sticking Beatrix Potter stickers on the headboard! Luckily my parents weren't stupid enough to buy me a solid oak cot bed ey?! Again, common sense ruled and we spent £300 on a cot, wardrobe and changing unit as a package. As soon as Henry grows out of the cot it will be put away for baby #2 and he will sleep on a cheap Ikea toddler bed. I can then sleep easily at night knowing that if he decides to draw on it with crayons, the only thing I will have to worry about is which toy to take away as a punishment or how long he needs to spend on the naughty step. If he drew on a £600 cot with his crayons, he'd still be on the naughty step when all of his friends were going off to university.

Moses baskets are the next thing on my list. Yes, they are awfully cute and it's so lovely coming home from hospital and putting your tiny bundle down in it as soon as you get home...until the bundle starts to scream, and scream and scream! Babies don't appear to like Moses baskets much, they much prefer Mummy's chest or her bed. After a few weeks of battling, you eventually settle the baby in the basket and then you blink and the baby has outgrown it! You then find yourself in Mothercare, as I did this week, to buy a crib. So then you've bought a £600 cot bed, £100 Moses basket and £150 crib. Am I the only one that thinks that nearly £1000 for a place for a baby to sleep is somewhat ridiculous?! 

Our nursery is a lovely mix of beige and creams, gender neutral and really pretty. I was determined everything would match. Carpet, paint, wallpaper, border, pictures....and baby gym! We got a pretty play mat that matched everything and came complete with beige toys that hung down from the rails. Beige. What baby is going to enjoy looking at a beige toy hanging above him?! Needless to say, the toys have now been replaced with garishly bright christmas toys and surprise surprise, Henry now happily lies on the mat now!! So for any prospective parents, go with the rule that the brighter the better, even if it doesn't match your beautiful cream nursery.

My labour bag was packed full of paraphernalia that would help support me through the hardest few hours of my life. I had a mini handheld fan, a spray bottle full of calming lavender water for my face, a facecloth to put on my forehead, my iPod, massage oil, hair bands, straws to help me drink my water,  a range of snacks and drinks...you get the idea. Do you know how much of it came out of the bag? None of it. Not a single thing. The only thing we used was a LOT of change (for Rob's many coffees and car park charges) and mints (all i wanted to eat and I didn't have them in my carefully packed bag. Luckily Mum was on hand to pick some up at the garage on her way to the hospital). It then took me about 6 weeks after the birth to unpack my bag because there was so bloody much in there and I couldn't leave Henry for more than 2 minutes at a time (as I said, the beige toys didn't really capture his attention in the early days!!).

So there you have it. My advice to any first time parents is to buy the bare minimum. You will have so much to buy once the baby's born and Mothercare is always open. We are now looking at high chairs, weaning equipment, stage 2 car seats, stair gates and strollers and we find ourselves back in the same position that we were in 6 months ago. The Mothercare sales assistants might want to refrain from using the word 'reasonable' in front of me again though, I'm not sure I will be quite so polite this time.

It turns out prams aren't much good for beach walks either!

For all you slummy mummies...

Sweethart Bakery, Consett

For those of you watching Britain's Best Bakery on ITV at the moment, you will have seen Sweethart Bakery on the North East heats last week. It's run by a local ex-builder and his brother (who has Down's Syndrome) and it's really close to where we live. We decided to try it out yesterday but unfortunately it was totally full when we arrived so we had to make do with take away cake and lunch at Marmar's.

We had egg custard tart, which is their speciality...

And key lime pie...

They were both soooo yummy, I can't wait to go back and try more cake and hopefully have something savoury too. 

If you want to try it, it's in Blackhill and you can visit their website here:

http://sweethart-cakes.co.uk/