Is it teething, a Wonder Week, or is she just a baby?

She's crying. Again.

She's not sleeping. Again.

Something's the matter.

I can't quite tell.

Is it teething or is it a Wonder Week?

After over a year of revelling in many a good nights sleep thanks to Lena hitting toddlerhood, having another baby has been more than just a little bit of a shock.

I've realised that I can survive with very little shut eye for oh... approximately two weeks. At which point I can feel my entire self melt into a rather unsightly zombie. Able to only function at the most basic level, unless fuelled by double shots of espresso. Thanks Mr. Nespresso! Without you I would be lost.

Needless to say the two hourly feeds that Marni brought with her after her birth wore me down pretty quickly. There was one day when I literally couldn't feel my cheeks, I was so tired. There was another daybreak feed where I swear I did it all whilst completely asleep, including the pre-milk nappy change.

I was feeling pretty rotten, desperate even. It's like she knew that she had pushed me too far. So she brought out the big guns... the smile! Plus a few good nights of sleep. Sleep! Ah my old friend. I felt revived and able to cope with any tantrum, explosive poo or gripe cries that either of them wanted to throw at me.

Evidently, her cunning plan was to lure me into a false sense of security. We had two weeks of what I would now consider excellent nights. Feeding at 8pm, 11pm, 4am and 8am. Laughable by my pre-baby standards of 11pm-oooooh  until 11am if I could get away with it, but joyful nonetheless.

All of a sudden it's changed. We are now doing 8pm, 11pm, 2am, 4am, 6:30am.... SERIOUSLY!!

It's pushing me to the limit and there's no amount of white noise from Ewan the Dream Sheep that's helping this baby get back to sleep in a timely manner. If I'm lucky a quick and super adorable hand holding session does the trick, but mostly it doesn't.

The only way that I can stay sane is to find a reason. To remind myself that it's just a phase whilst also putting it down to a growth spurt and if she's wailing, teething. Call my an idiot, but it helps stop me from falling into a pit of sleep deprived despair. 

So, whilst she may well be munching her fist like a crazy person because it's just kinda fun, for me it's a clear sign to whip out the Calgel! And if that doesn't work, I can always bring out my very own Big Gun... Sophie the Giraffe.

Learning to play with my child

The To-Do list. I live by my To-Do list. Maybe it's because of my never ending baby brain. Or simply down to my love of stationary. Pretty list pads and the satisfying flick of ticking something off with a yummy floral pen, sadly make me very happy.

The List used to be my friend. My comforting and rewarding friend. It gave me structure, order, attainable goals and a sense of achievement when everything was brightly crossed off, ideally with a glitter pen. Since having children I'm having to address my relationship with The List.

I no longer have chunks of time to dedicate to chores. Paint that fence? Sand and re-paint the bathroom door? Whip up an amazingly cute Liberty Dress for Little Red Head number one? erm.... no evil list, I just can't!

How to survive a soft play

On a drizzly day there is nothing better than loading Red Head Number One into the car and heading off to our local soft play. It is an experience. It's also guaranteed to exhaust her and give us a relatively peaceful afternoon/evening at home.

If we have visitors with us for the weekend we tend to warn them of the upcoming experience. For those who have never been to one before, I often watch them in the rear-view mirror on the journey home. They look almost traumatised. A shadow of their former self. 

So here are my 'heads up' tips for those of you who have yet to spend a good few hours at a soft play.

The Dummy Fairy

I was like a lot of first time mums when we started our parenting journey. I was totally convinced that I would breast feed, I wouldn't create bad sleep habits by rocking her to sleep or driving around at 2am like a zombie, and above all else, I would never, under any circumstances, let her use a dummy. They're bad for their teeth and speech development, don't you know.

Funny how once you're actually in "it" ("it" being the almost unnerving land of parenthood) all of those defiant personal beliefs fly out of the window..... in a flash.

After hours of ear splitting screaming and agonising writhing when the dummy works why wouldn't I make both of our lives easier? Actually, why wouldn't I make the lives of our entire household, including the cat's, plus our neighbours' lives a little easier?

The dummy made sense for me and my baby. Little Lena was bottle fed because she couldn't latch. This meant that she couldn't blithely suckle away for comfort like the babies of those exhausted and amazing breast feeding mothers. She also had the most horrendous reflux. The sucking provided great relief for her not only because it was distracting but the additional saliva also eased the acid burn that plagued her throat.

We were lucky that the reflux only lasted until she was fully weaned. I thought about removing the dummy then but it suddenly morphed into the most amazing sleep cue. We've never really struggled with nap times or bedtimes because her bunny and dummy were a clear sign post of what was to come.

18 things I miss since having kids

I love having children. Even though I adore my two little red heads, there are still things that I miss BGN (Before Ginger Nuts.)

1. Smelling of perfume, my favourite being Jo Malone 154, rather than an odd combined fragrance of florals with stale baby sick.

2. Wearing cotton non-stretch clothing... but seriously, who has time for ironing now!

3. Using the toilet on my own.

4. Speaking of bathrooms; I had forgotten what it was like to shower without a loud voice declaring that "Mummy's tummy is wobbly." And then after asking what Daddy's tummy was like, in the vain hope to somehow balance the knock to my self esteem, hearing "Daddy's tummy is perfect."

5. Not eating food at a pace likened to that of a shoal of piranhas, anxiously aware that if you don't eat it now someone may cry, poo, vomit, hurt themselves or cause a world wide economic breakdown if you dare to savour your meal.

6. Eating food that isn't stolen by a little red head with Puss in Boots style eyes.

7. Silence.

To double, or not to double

Call me sensitive, but when I entered the realm of parenthood I suddenly felt more judged by complete strangers than I ever have done before.

Confronted with an array of decisions including how to feed your baby, how to dress them, how to play with them and later on how to discipline them, everyone seems to have an opinion. These opinions are so very different that it's inevitable that 'observations' are made by others regarding the choices that I make for my own children.

Only last week I was out food shopping with both kiddies (we will be internet shopping from now on) and Lena had decided to sit on the foot plate of our single buggy. When I turned the corner at the bottom of the cereal aisle I did so just that bit too fast. Lena caught her foot on the floor and she promptly, with impressive dramatic force, face planted. This, of course, unfolded in front of a queue of busy lunchtime shoppers at the self-checkout tills. I heard the unanimious intake of breath and felt the silent judgements, not only regarding the incident itself but also on my handling of the aftermath.

To add to this unnerving feeling of  constantly being under observation, I stumbled across a website with the sole purpose of shaming 'lazy' parents who still encourage their children to use strollers way beyond the average weight capacity of 15kgs. Bingo! With baby number two on the way, this was perfect timing for my neurotic tendancies. Fearful that Red Head Number One would end up on the front page of said site the decision to buy a double buggy was seriously well considered, and of course Netmums threads well read, and then promptly rejected as an option for our growing family.

The baby clothes plan

I'm taking a different tactic with this new baby when it comes to clothes. Firstly, from the ages of 0-3 months Nugget will be living in sleepsuits and sleepsuits alone.

Not only does the whole floppy neck stage of a newborn freak me out more than just a little, but with a toddler now in the picture I genuinely don't have as much time in the morning, scream free that is, to change this baby's outfits.

I will buy the basic under-vests from the likes of Primark or Sainsbury's but treat her to a few gorgeous babygrows from John Lewis. I have recently re-discovered this brand/institution and I'm slowly turning into an addict. Below are a few of my favourite multipacks on offer at the moment. With quality cotton that washes well and integrated scratch mittens I'm happy with the selection I've already stashed away... and also just a little jealous that I don't fit into them myself.

When it comes to actual outfits I am waiting for the stronger-neck-muscle phase where she looks more like a meerkat before I even consider there to be a difference between bed time clothes and day time promenading-with-the-pram clothes.

Newborn Gadgets: Other Bits

The final post in the Newborn Gadgets series covering some other bits and pieces I'd highly recommend! 

I found newborn Lena surprisingly more alert and aware of her surroundings than I expected. The Bright Starts activity gym was an instant hit. Even more so when she could actually focus on objects more than 5cm away! 

We similarly found the Bright Starts Swing a life saver, for a different reason which was to generally relax her. Most of my friends found vibrating seats useless at sending them off to the land of nod, but this was a sure winner for us. The Baby Bjorn bouncer is a perfect gadget in terms of activity time when they are happily kicking away, but for quiet relax time when you're desperate for a shower a motorised swing is a must.

After week one of Lena being in our lives my wardrobe changed completely. Every top I owned was packed away and a selection of striped Bretons from Boden hung in their place. Babies love contrast and there is nothing better than being the object of your baby's wonderment. So get those stripy tops on!! 

Newborn Gadgets - Cleaning Essentials

Following on from 'Newborn Gadgets: Feeding Essentials' here is my list of cleaning essentials that I wish we had stocked up on before the little red head was born.

By nappy change number fourteen of the day you tend to want to make your life a little easier. This is why I will always sing the praises of the Tommee Tippee Sangenic nappy bin. It wraps the nappies tightly in sort of a plastic wrap so you don't have a whiffy bedroom, or the need to run outside in the pouring rain to throw out the oddly sweet/sour scented parcel in your hand. Once nappy changes reduce and poos become more predictable it's still a handy bin to have around, even without the wraps. In the beginning this really helped not to push us over the edge into crazy.

Although we mainly used cotton wool and water for Lena's nappy changes in the first few months I wish I had found Water Wipes sooner, especially during those explosives changes when you seem to be grabbing cotton ball number 500 and still not getting anywhere near clean. These are mainly water so no concerns about chemicals on your newborn's bottom.

Newborn gadgets - Feeding essentials

There are an overwhelming array of products out there for first time parents. A great deal of them tap into the fact that, I for one, certainly didn't have a clue what I was doing.  Apparently you simply MUST wipe baby's bottom with a heated wet wipe... who knew! Luckily we moved house only a few weeks before Baby Bear was born so with little time and space to buy and store such paraphernalia our main focus was to simply have somewhere for her to sleep and to paint her room.... given she didn't actually sleep in there for the first 6 months I really don't understand why this was a priority. I blame the call to nest!

I was recently asked to compile a list of what not to buy; highlighting the often too common pitfalls that first time parents encounter. As most purchases were made after Lena was born they came out of necessity and then, because it's me, an outrageous level of research. So, here is my list of things I wish I had bought in preparation, apart from the obvious huge numbers of sleep suits, burp cloths, crib and of course Ewan the sheep which was gifted to me by my wondrous mother.

The first of three posts tackles feeding essentials. 

Newborn Sleep

I had never appreciated the importance of sleep until Lena arrived. When I worked in television, where days can start scarily early, I was fully aware that I was neither pleasant nor remotely useful if I had less than 8 hours sleep the night before. I very much operate in a haze of bewilderment and general grumpiness if I am not fully rested.

I find it incredible that after the business of giving birth, when all parties involved are beyond exhausted, that we are entrusted with caring for a little bundle. My whole body just needed a massive duvet cuddle and if I'm honest a good decade or two of undisturbed sleep. Unfortunately, newborn Lena followed the suit of all other babies by not knowing the difference between day and night. Once we did finally get her down in the evening an alarm would be set to wake her two hours later to feed her in order to encourage milk supply. I remember despairing that I would never get a good nights sleep again.

Below are a few things that I have learnt that I would like to share.

Help

It is vital to acknowledge how sleep deprivation can affect your mood. I often found myself questioning whether I was in the depths of post natal depression, only to feel completely renewed after a good two hour nap in the middle of the day.

When the trickle of visitors start to arrive it is ok if your house is not spotless when you open the door. They are not there to judge the dust but to genuinely coo over the little being that you have created. When they ask if there is anything that they can do to help - hand them the duster/hoover/bleach immediately and if you're not comfortable letting them brush your toilet bowl - SLEEP. It isn't rude to just go upstairs for a little nap and let them get their fix of baby cuddles, if you know that they will be comfortable doing so. I have said to every one of my expectant friends that when we come to visit I will be there to either clean or look after their baby whilst they catch up on some rest.

Making mum friends

Not since walking through the doors of Bodington Halls of Residence on my first day at University have I felt like such a rabbit in the head lights. Every time I enter a local playgroup I feel the same. I experience a terrifying need to befriend every single person that I interact with. In Fresher's week I approached far too many people with a genuine expectation of forming true bonds. It only dawned on me during our one to one 'friend date' a week later that we had absolutely nothing in common, apart from the place in which we had chosen to study and those dance moves that we roared with laughter about for hours on Tuesday night.

When I first ventured into the land of baby groups I gave my number out like some desperate suitor trying their luck with as many prospective dates as possible, in the hope that someone would bite. My checklist before giving out my details were as follows; do they have a child? CHECK Have they said Hi to me? CHECK.

Mine, Mine, Mine - Learning to Share

Lena has most certainly learnt her possessive pronouns. As she approaches her 22nd month on Earth suddenly everything is Lena's. She often reminds me of the squawking seagulls in Finding Nemo who screech 'mine' over and over again. Except instead of mine she shouts 'LaLi' which is the almost celeb-couple-like name she has chosen to call herself, like Brandgelina and other such figures.

She is very clear that her toys are hers and shows clear distress when others, even her regular playmates reach for them. Even if the toy isn't actually hers but she has played with it and she then sees another child approach she will waddle-run towards them shouting 'LaLi' at the top of her little lungs. She has perfected the wounded soul scrunch of the face and the desperate plea-like tone of voice. I find it absolutely heartbreaking to witness, but I also find it terrifying. Not just because of the upset that it causes her, but because I fear that I am somehow raising a bossy, selfish, spoilt, social outcast.

Fixations and Obsessions

I can recite word for word Peepo. I can sing the theme tune to Raa Raa the Noisy Lion with the same accuracy as I can belt out a bit of Beyonce. I have acquired an almost 'Spidey Sense' when it comes to spotting trains, helicopters, police cars or aeroplanes. These are new talents that I firmly thank my daughter for. At 20 months old my little red head is obsessed with all of these things. But she is the most obsessed with her yellow wellingtons. These little luminescent rubber boots have to be worn daily, even on a warm sunny afternoon, they must be taken from the hall cupboard and slipped on to her little feet. If this doesn't make up part of her 'leave the house' routine and some other form of footwear is offered...... well all hell breaks loose and The Toddler Hulk is unleashed. The photo below is merely a gentle representation of how angry she can get. To reveal to the world her true rage face I believe would simply be both terrifying and a little cruel.

Needless to say these obsessions show me that little Lena finds comfort in routine. She finds security in knowing what is to come.  These things give her a true sense of control during a time when she has very little and faces frustration daily.  She has been fixated on having her bunny during nap and bed time, and after months I have found that it not only comforts her to have it whilst she sleeps but she also uses it as a communication tool; waving it in our faces in a frantic manner which simply means 'I'm so tired, please let me snooze.'

Enthusiasm

A friend recently inferred that I now persistently speak like I am a children's television presenter. There is no doubt about it, she is certainly correct in her observation. It took me a while to figure out why my voice has changed pitch since the arrival of Lena. For some time I worried that I was being falsely happy, like a robotic perma-cheer-mum.

It was when I saw her playing in the park that I realised why I sound so amazed at objects she spots and actions she does. She spent an hour in the sandpit. An hour! Just placing neat little piles of sand on the top of the mini log fencing that envelops it. I was just watching her, delicately touching the grains, flapping wildly with her hands in an effort to make fluffy butterflies, trickling little piles and then swatting them flat. She found it fascinating. She finds absolutely everything fascinating. A fair part of her day is made up of new experiences, things she's never done or felt or even known could be done or felt. Be it the feel of the iron railings on the neighbours front wall as we walk by, a new breed of dog (aka wofwof,) a pebble colour that she hasn't studied before or the bounce of damp turf as she runs across Greenwich Park. Her day is filled with absolute wonder.

When you spend day in, day out with someone who gets so excited about a helicopter in the sky she screams 'hello' at the top of her lungs and waves frantically just to make sure that it can see her, it is really rather hard not to find that kind of joy contagious.