A rushed morning…

6.45am – Toddler wakes. I am not ready to be up yet.

6.50am – Taken Toddler upstairs, turned on cBeebies and made her a bowl of cereal then went back downstairs and back to bed. Luckily the baby is a sleep-aholic like me and doesn’t rise most mornings until we wake him.

7.30am – Toddler wants a snack. Go upstairs, give apple, go back to bed again.

8.40am – Toddler reminds me she’s going to nursery today. Drop off is 9.15am.

Oops.

8.50AM – Spent the past 10mins bribing with biscuits to get toddler to put on pants.

8.55AM – We have decided that the Peppa Pig nightie will work as a top on the condition the toddler wears socks.

9.00AM – I’m still in my pyjamas and the baby still in bed. Toddler decides she doesn’t want to go to nursery today and instead wants to stay in bed all day watching YouTube videos. Ooh, she knows how to tempt me!

9.02AM – Climbed back into bed for a lovely cuddle.

9.05AM – Toddler starts licking my face.

9.06AM – Change of plan, definitely need to get rid of toddler.

9.10AM – Whipped on hoody and trainers, baby still in pyjamas. Chucked in baby carrier to keep him warm and hide the fact I am not wearing a bra.

9.16AM – Dragged toddler to nursery, she sauntered in without even saying goodbye – feeling unappreciated.

9.20AM – Got home and looked at self in mirror. Realised hair was still in braids from night before and have last nights make up all over my face. No wonder the staff were staring at me!

9.30AM – Put baby back to bed, decided to give up on this morning and go back to bed.

 

I’ll try again tomorrow!

 

 

 

 

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Meet Other Mums #BlogSquad

Wow!

I am super excited to announce that I am now a member of the Meet Other Mums #BlogSquad!

I will have a monthly blog on their site, which reaches just over 25,000 – WOW! I never thought I would get the opportunity to reach so many other Mums so quickly. I couldn’t be more pleased!

My first blog on MeetOtherMums.com will go live shortly – I’d love for you all to go check it out!

It’s also a great site for finding other Mums with common interests in your local area, like a dating site, but for Mum friends.

Now to get writing…!

 

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The Bedtime Tag – my first tag!

Yay for blogging firsts!

So very excited to be tagged by The Mum Reviews in The Bedtime Tag, thanks Nicole!

This blog is not quite what it seems, instead of being a quiz on your child’s bedtime routine, it’s a quiz for the grown up’s. Have a nosey and see what I get up to before getting in the sheets…

Describe your usual bedtime routine

It depends what kind of mood I’m in to whether I go downstairs (we have an upside down house) with my husband at 10pm or stay up a bit later to watch a few episodes of reality trash, as my husband so kindly calls it. My current faves are Ex on the Beach and Geordie Shore. I love a bit of mindless telly! I’ll eventually make my way downstairs, spend another half hour or so flicking through Facebook whilst on the loo, then climb into bed.

What are your favourite pyjamas?

I actually sleep in my pants and a vest top, however I like to change into my ‘lounge wear’ once the kids are in bed. I currently have some lovely fleecy jogger style bottoms and a cosy pink spotty dressing gown.

What is your current bedtime reading?

I am incredibly low brow and tend to read on my iPhone or Kindle Fire. I click ‘Romance’ and download whichever ones are free. Most are self published so need a bit of editing, but once in a while you get a fab read! I particularly like the naughty ones, however with the lack of editing, some are a bit cringey. You would think there’s only so many ways to describe ‘doing the deed’ but boy, some get quite creative!

What would I find on your bedside table?

I don’t actually have a bedside table! However I do have a box that my daughter uses as a step to climb into bed with us in the morning. On that there is a Frozen Night Light (our lamp broke and we haven’t bothered buying a new one yet), my compliments book, my journal and a few pens. I like to write first thing in the morning, once I’ve had a night’s sleep to mull over everything!

What scent makes you sleepy?

I don’t really use anything to make me sleepy, however I do love the smell of freshly laundered sheets!

What are your usual bedtime and wakeup times?

Bedtime can vary from 10pm – 12pm, wake up time also varies. Can be anywhere from 7am – 11am, dependent on the previous nights sleep, my mood that morning and whether I have anything on that day.

What are your top three bedtime products?

Um, I don’t really have any bedtime products…I brush my teeth and if I’ve managed to put some eyeliner on that day, I’ll use Primarks Own Sensitive make up wipes to take it off. £1 for two packs, I do love a bargain!

What is your most common sleeping position?

Foetal, on my right hand side, legs in between duvet and hand under pillow with other hand tucked into duvet holding it in place. Every night. Without fail. Sometimes my husband likes to snuggle but as soon as he falls asleep I shove him off and get into this position.

Do you have anything you like to take to bed with you?

My phone. I’m a bad person and sleep with it under my pillow. I often wake during the night so will watch random videos or read blogs to get myself back to sleep.

What is your worst bedtime habit?

Probably a mixture of being on my phone and shuffling the duvet about to get into my position to sleep, it definitely annoys my husband – oops!

I tag Jelly With The Belly and Harriet at Mummy Goes Where Flo Goes to answer the questions above.

 

THE RULES OF THE BEDTIME TAG

Step 1: Thank the person who nominated you, and link back to their blog.
Step 2: Display The Bedtime Tag badge; which you can find above. (save the picture)
Step 3: Answer the ten questions included above.
Step 4: Nominate fellow bloggers to take part and answer the above questions.

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And then there were four…(where it all began part 3)

So where did I finish off…I guess I was just waiting for 37 weeks. I continued with my weekly admissions for re hydration and also continued to breastfeed my daughter. I got a lot of flack for this as people thought that me feeding her was making me sick. I was however reassured by my consultant (the nice one), my doctor and my breastfeeding practitioner that what I was doing was perfectly safe and had no relevance to my pregnancy and sickness. [I will probably write a whole post about this one day, when I do, I’ll link it here!]

So I got to 36 weeks and my midwife brought me in for my first sweep. She told me I was looking promising, which is great to hear whilst a hand is rooting around your nether regions, and I was told to wait for my induction date.

We went in on the afternoon of the 30th December. I was all set so had regular monitoring then waiting for a delivery room to become available. We ordered the 4 day TV package, knowing now that we would be in for a long haul. Had dinner then my husband went home to look after our daughter, promising to bring her in for a visit tomorrow.

The next day was quiet, we walked the hospital halls, making it a game by touching each end wall. My daughter came for a visit with Nana, we bounced about on my birthing ball, went on lots of walks and had lots of cuddles as well as she has her last breast feed as an only child. I was emotional. I didn’t know this would be the last time I saw her and that she would return not as my baby, but as a big sister.

Walking through the hospital, little did I know next time I saw my daughter she would be a big sister!

We were just trying to decide whether to order a Dominoes or a curry when we were told it was our turn to go onto Labour Ward! We had not been expecting this. Well, we had, but not so quickly! I called my Mom and told her it was go time, she squealed and rushed in to be with us. Lots of people frown when they find I had my Mom with me for both pregnancies, however I think it is important to have a second female birth partner (someone other than your partner). Research shows mothers who have a female birth partner, have an easier childbirth. This is because they get double the oxytocin, not just there own love hormone flowing, but the love hormone of the other female flows through to the birthing mother. How awesome is that? Besides, due to our first scary encounter (which you can read about here) I needed her there in case it all went wrong again.

So Mom arrived around 5pm, just as they were inserting my cannula to start the Pitocin and break my waters. Seeing as it took around 8 hours with my daughter to start pushing, we decided to order a pizza anyway and I settled onto the birthing ball in the hopes to speed things up.

By the time the pizza arrived (double pepperoni and jalapenos) I was getting very strong contractions. The midwives were finding it difficult to keep a track of the heartbeat and contractions using their wireless monitors with me bouncing, I ended up with around 8 different straps to keep them in place! Otherwise, they left us alone, with the lights lowered and the radio on. I asked my husband to text in and get some words of encouragement but he said it was lame – I think he’s lame. I ate a slice of pizza, I was determined to not let it go to waste, but the contractions were getting stronger and stronger. I needed the gas and air already, but I felt like such a wimp for giving in at only 1.5 hours in, once checking my contractions, they gave it to me and I started sucking like mad. I hadn’t felt much effect the first time around, however this time I felt light and dizzy after the first inhalation.

But then, I felt the need to push. I panicked, don’t we all? I wanted to stay sat on my ball, well they could maybe move the ball to catch the baby…however the midwife was insistent I get up on the bed and go on all fours. I tried this position with my first and hated it, which I told them, but they thought I should try again. So up I went, I started not being able to move myself properly so my husband lifted me into position. I was still inhaling the gas and air without stopping. This is where it all went fuzzy…

I remember my Mom asking me if I wanted to turn around. I tried to say ‘Yes’ but nothing came out. I tried to nod my head but I couldn’t. I tried to signal with my hands but felt like I couldn’t control them. Then everything went black.

I had overdosed on the gas and air and had started having hallucinations. The following did not actually happen in ‘real life’, but purely in my head. In ‘real life’ it probably lasted about 3 minutes tops, but in my head it felt like hours.

I saw my husband pulling the emergency button, just like during my first pregnancy. I was screaming, asking if my baby was okay, no one would answer. Doctors and nurses rushed into the room and rolled me out to theatre. I was given a gas mask and all I could see were the harsh lights above me. Then everything went black again. I heard a voice, it was asking me whether I wanted to live or die. I couldn’t respond. It asked me whether I wanted to live or if I wanted my baby to live, I shouted ‘No!’ The voice then told me I needed to breathe, I responded that I was trying. Then the voice told me to let go. So I did. 

I don’t know what the first voice was all about, it still haunts me now. However after shouting ‘No!’ the voice was actually my Mom’s. She was holding my face and trying to get the mouthpiece out, I had clamped my jaw shut in my hallucinated state. She managed to get it out and told me to breathe. My eyes refocused and I was ‘back in the room’. I had basically had flashbacks to my daughters after birth disaster. I asked if my baby was okay but had completely forgotten I still had to actually birth my son.

I pushed, and out he came. He was 7’13 and covered in vernix. He looked gross. He was placed skin to skin, but I asked for a towel to wipe all the gunk off me. I felt nothing. My Mom cut the cord whilst I gave him his first feed. The whole room was tense, none of us could relax and be happy until my placenta had been birthed. I passed him to my husband so I could concentrate on the final phase. I pushed and out it came. Oh, was that it?

I was a bit confused, I had been expecting some drama at least, so when nothing happened it was just a bit odd. We held the baby and started taking pictures, I watched him be weighed and even dressed him myself. I asked my Mom what I was supposed to do now, I didn’t know what a normal person did after birthing a child. She ran me a bath and I shakily stepped in, the adrenaline was still rushing through me, I couldn’t stop my legs from twitching. Apparently this is normal. My Mom and husband held my son as I looked on from the bath, wishing for an emotion, anything to come to me, but nothing.

My Mom left, it was New Year’s Eve so she was off to the pub to celebrate the news with friends and family. My husband was allowed to stay overnight this time as policies had changed in the 18 months since my first born. We both admitted we just wanted our daughter with us. I had assured myself once our daughter was here, that rush of love would come. The fireworks started, but we couldn’t see any from our window. I text a few family members and close friends the good news. I fed my baby and he was so content. I tried to get him to sleep on my chest, just like my daughter did, but he squirmed and wouldn’t settle until I handed him to my husband where he slept soundly.

I lay in my bed, confused and just wanting to sleep. Everything had gone perfectly. This was what I had always wanted, our little family was complete, so why did I feel only emptiness inside?

To be continued…AGAIN!

[Geesh, this is taking way longer than I had anticipated. I could write a novel! I wonder if anyone is actually reading this…]

 

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Pregnancy, HG and Me (where it all began – part 2)

We were blissfully happy.

I went through the typical ‘Baby Blues’ on days 3 to 5 post partum, which included a good cry in front of my in laws on day 3, as for some stupid reason I decided going to a family BBQ was a good idea. It wasn’t.

I felt like I eased into parenting. Breastfeeding went really well, we managed to prove all of our family wrong by actually using our cloth nappies, we were peacefully cosleeping and I had made some lovely new friends from various Mum groups, including the breastfeeding support group I later trained to be a part of. I thought I had it down. And I’m ashamed to admit it, but I was very judgmental of those who didn’t parent in the same way that I did.

We were so cocky in fact, that when my periods returned at 8 months post partum, we decided to let nature takes it’s course. Which was a good thing too as at 9 months post partum, we were pregnant!

It all went down hill from there…we were gleefully happy, but within days my Hyperemesis Gravidarum (HG) came back twice as hard. Over the course of the next 32 weeks, I was admitted into hospital for rehydration and fluids a whopping 30 times. 30 times where I had to leave my little girl; my breastfed, cosleeping, little girl, to sit in a hospital where I received IV fluids, anti sickness and pain relief medication until I was able to keep down a dry piece of toast then sent on my way… until the next week. It was heart wrenching. This baby inside of me, that was supposed to fill our lives with joy, was breaking me, mentally and physically.

We had always decided we would only have two children, mainly due to how my body can’t seem to handle pregnancy very well. This meant I put a lot of pressure on trying to enjoy my ‘last pregnancy’ as much as possible. I forced myself to take weekly photo updates, plastering a grin on my face for my family and friends to see on social media. I got a maternity photo shoot done, to try and find some beauty in a crappy situation. I already felt detached from the baby inside me, I resented it from taking me away from my baby girl. I wanted to bond with it just like I had the first time around, but the sickness made it so hard.

During one hospital visit, at around 20 weeks pregnant, a female consultant sat me down and calmly asked how everything was at home. As these are usual questions to ask when a woman is alone in hospital, I thought nothing of it. But then she asked again, I again answered that everything was perfectly fine, my husband was at home looking after our daughter to keep some routine in the upheaval that was this pregnancy. A few hours later, at around 3:30AM, she came back and asked again.

By this time, I was quite annoyed. I knew exactly what she was hinting at, so asked her outright why she was asking. She explained that it was ‘impossible’ to have HG so severely that I would be admitted weekly, which must mean I am trying to get away from an abusive relationship.

Eh, excuse me?! You can see me, not able to even keep water down, and yet you are accusing me of making my condition up because you think my husband is beating me? I was shocked. After finding my words and assuring her my husband couldn’t hurt a fly, and that our relationship was anything but abusive, the doctor then started a different route. She started talking about my daughter, and stated that I must miss her so much during these hospital visits. Of course, hormonal pregnant woman starts crying when she thinks about missing her darling daughter. The doctor smiles, tells me I’m obviously mentally ill, which is why I’m getting so sick, refused to give me any more medication and referred me to the peri natal mental health team.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew that although I was quite down, I knew I was down because of the sickness, not sick because I was down! I was a part of a few HG Facebook support groups, so posted about my situation that same morning. Luckily, I was put in touch with the charity Pregnancy Sickness Support (find out more about PSS here). They were able to explain to me my options, and gave me some great advice on how to change consultants and who they recommended from my hospital, as well as a volunteer peer supporter who had also been through HG. She was my rock. I was able to change to a brilliant male consultant who understood HG completely, we got a game plan and decided that should the HG continue throughout pregnancy (like it did with my first pregnancy) then I would be induced at 37 weeks due to bile acid build up and liver troubles in myself.

Now I knew there was an end, I just had power through. I had assured myself as soon as the baby arrived, everything would be fine. Our family would be complete, we’d live happily ever after…if only life worked like that, eh?

[Next time, our baby boy’s birth and delivery…]

(Oooh, I feel like I’m writing a drama series, it seems so much more intense all written down!)

 

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The UnSanctimonious Guide to Cloth Nappies

We went along to our ante natal classes whilst pregnant with our first, excited to learn all about how to look after a baby! During one class, we were shown cloth nappies, we were not impressed. It sounded quite gross and a lot of hassle. Then we were shown a brilliant chart showing how much money you can save compared to disposable nappies. I can’t find that original chart, however why not check out this fab, informative cost comparison from The Cloth Nappy Tree?)

WTH?! How is this possible? If you save this much money, why doesn’t everyone use them? Are people really that lazy not to save ALL THAT MONEY?! We are massive cheapskates, yeah, saving the planet and all that was a bonus (and the patterns are just adorable!) BUT THE MONEY SAVING?!

I went along to our local cloth nappy library (Jen from Exeter Babies is fab, find her website hereand decided on the BumGenius Flip day and night system. It cost £150 in total (although maybe a bit less as I also bought some reusable breast pads and maybe a wet bag – it was too long ago to remember!)

We used these for the first 4 months until a friend told me about Little Bloom nappies. These are basically pocket nappies made in China and sold on eBay at ridiculously low prices, with gorgeous patterns. I got my Nan to buy 10 pretty patterns with 1 bamboo and 1 microfibre insert each for a total of £30 – what a bargain!

We carried on using our BumGenius Flip night system, as the ‘China cheapies’ didn’t quite hold out for a whole night stint. However they worked perfectly during the day without any leaks.

We don’t do anything fancy whilst washing our nappies, no cold rinses, long washes or special powders *gasp* just a regular 40c wash then depends on my mood as to whether I dry on the clothes hanger or bung in the tumble drier. We don’t like the idea of having a bucket full of nappies lying around the house so use wet bags to store our nappies in. This also means we don’t have to faff about moving nappies from bags to bucket when we’ve been out all day. We don’t use liners, just sluice in the loo or rinse in a sink.

We do two washes a week. When the babies were little we would chuck their sleep suits and vests in too, they were normally covered in poop and puke anyway, so what’s a bit more? Best of all, our nappies are still as good as new half way through our second child’s nappy life, and we’ll even be able to sell them on afterwards!

So make the change -it’s never too late to save lots of money, have some adorable squidgy bums and you even get to help save the environment (even if crunchy isn’t your thing!)

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Where it all began…

My step-dad was a lorry driver, he died in a road traffic accident when I was 7 weeks pregnant. I was one of those stupid pregnant ladies that was insistent on waiting until 12 weeks before telling anyone.

This meant he never knew he would have been a Grandad.

My pregnancy was used as the shining star to make everything okay again. I was told over and over that I had to be happy, because I was growing a baby now.

I never got a chance to grieve.

I saw various counselors during my pregnancy, all of which warned me that I was most likely to experience post natal depression once my baby arrived. My first pregnancy wasn’t easy, with hyperemesis gravidarum forcing me to be admitted into hospital on 7 occasions due to dehydration.

At 38 weeks, my midwife came to visit me for a routine check up, my blood pressure was extremely high, so high that I was told to go straight to the maternity unit. With not being able to drive, my husband working an hour away and my Mom working six hours away, I had no idea what to do.

In the end my Mom’s new boyfriend left work to take me to the hospital (baring in mind he had only been reintroduced as her boyfriend a few months before!) we awkwardly talked about all kinds of crazy things to take my mind off what the heck was happening. My husband arrived at the maternity unit just after us, we were both clueless about what was going to happen but I had packed all mine and baby’s bags just in case! With my blood pressure soaring and not changing enough with the blood pressure medication, it was decided I was to be induced. Luckily it was not severe enough to warrant immediate action so we agreed to start the induction process in the morning.

Following an uncomfortable night’s sleep, I was given the pessary and told to entertain myself. We walked the hospital halls and played games of travel Monopoly and Connect 4. My Mom had traveled back from work as we wanted her to be there during the birth. The day dragged. Nothing had happened and I was getting increasingly frustrated. Another uncomfortable night alone, with the promise that my waters would be broken first thing in the morning. It didn’t happen. I found it so frustrating that they weren’t keeping to their time scales. Silly looking back as obviously it was because more important cases needed to be dealt with. I couldn’t see it like that at the time!

After a snappy shouting match with my Mom, in which she stormed off, I was told I was finally off to the labour ward to have my waters broken and induction started. Time for the grovelling call to Mom, in which I had to apologise profusely before she would come back! My waters were broken with ease and I was started on Pitocin. We ordered Thai food and settled into a long night. 8 hour laters, using gas and air (but not really inhaling enough to get any benefit) I gave birth to our beautiful daughter. She was perfect and healthy. We had our first feed and felt the burst of love straight away.

The midwives were started to look a bit concerned and made me pass my baby to my husband so I could focus on pushing out my placenta. It wasn’t budging. Before I knew what was happening, the emergency bell was pressed and the room was swarmed with nurses and doctors. I was told to sign a piece of paper, I still don’t know what that was for? I was wheeled into theatre where it was decided I would be put under General Anesthetic.

I woke up 4 hours later to my Mom hovering above me. I had no idea what had just happened, I cried for my Mommy, asked her if I was dying, she told me it had been close, but I was fine now. Then I remembered my baby, and was reassured she was just fine too.

I don’t remember much of our first day together, we spent most of it still in our delivery room. I was very woozy from the GA, I couldn’t really eat and was catheterized so couldn’t move from my bed. I remember two midwives literally milking my breasts into syringes so my baby could be fed, as I had so many cannulas fitted I couldn’t hold her properly. By evening I had managed one feed, meaning I was deemed well enough to be transferred to the post natal ward – alone. My husband was told he couldn’t stay with me to help our baby. Even though I was still catheterized so unable to move from my bed.

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Where she would sleep for the next 18 months

I felt so scared, and buzzed for a midwife at any opportunity. When she started hiccuping, I wasn’t sure what to do! She only stopped crying when being fed or laying on my chest, with it being so difficult to pick her up I decided she’d stay there. I had done so much
research during pregnancy and was adamant I would not be bedsharing. My little girl ended up sharing our bed until she was just over 2 years old.

We left the hospital the next day, with the promise to return the next day for further blood tests. We now had a baby, and we were so blissfully happy.

To be continued…duh duh duhhhhhh….

 

 

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#devongirlscan #thisgirlcan

bikes

When I tried a taster session for a local Active Mums Bike Ride, I never thought six months down the line I would be leading the sessions on my own! However I caught the cycling bug and with the added bonus of bike and trailer hire included, meaning the kids tag along and are contained whilst I exercise – I was hooked! For once, I didn’t care what others thought of me, I was doing this for me, and it felt GREAT!

 

I find having that responsibility each week, of having others rely on me to take them for a ride, is great for giving me the motivation to get started with my day. Getting to enjoy the beautiful Devon countryside, and push myself up it’s many hills, are a great end to the week.

Active Mums is a part of Active Devon, the County Sports Partnership for Devon who are passionate about finding innovative ways of getting everyone in Devon Active for Life. Research reveals a huge difference in the number of men and women playing sport. And it’s not because females don’t want to get active. Millions of women and girls are afraid to exercise because of fear of judgement.

Developed by Sport England, This Girl Can is a celebration of active women who are doing their thing no matter how well they do it, how they look bikesor even how red their face gets. They want to help women overcome the fear of judgement that is stopping too many women and girls from joining in.

Active Devon have started their own campaign – #devongirlscan I’ll be sharing my photos regularly on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Why don’t you join in too? Let’s do this together and show the world that #THISGIRLCAN !

 

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Random compliments…

So I have started a ‘compliments book’, in which if I ever receive a compliment regarding myself or my parenting, I have to write it down in an effort to feel better about myself.

So far it has a compliment from my therapist (duh) and a few from my husband (double duh). A task I took on with an eye roll is proving pretty worthy right now.

That was until this afternoon!

Walking along the high street, pushing the pram whilst dictating to mine and a friends toddler about which way we need to go. As every toddler seems to do when you’re in a rush, they were dragging their feet and swinging about without a care in the world. I was starting to get very frustrated by constantly having to screech behind me ‘COME ON!’ ‘THIS WAY!’ and other such words of encouragement. I see a lady approach me, bracing myself for some evil eyes or snide comment as the girls are now jumping over cracks in the middle of the pavement, stopping anyone from passing them.

However, I was shocked when she instead cooed over the girls, calling them very adorable, I smiled. Then she said “I can imagine how frustrating them dawdling must be for you, you’re being so patient!”Eh what?!

I certainly wasn’t feeling patient, however this lady taking time to reassure me was so lovely, it immediately put me in a good mood. So much so that we spent the rest of our walk playing monsters and dinosaurs, meaning the girls ran excitedly and we were on time for once!

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Another Mummy Blog!

I’ve been umming and ahhing for a while about whether I wanted to start a blog or not. I wasn’t sure if I would seem self obsessed or attention seeking. However, I’m ploughing through a really great stint of therapy right now and I’ve been told I need to be more open about my life and my struggles, so where better to start than by writing it all down for everyone to see?

I will try to keep this brief, as introduction posts tend to be quite samey…

I live in Devon with my husband and two children,  there is 18 months between each child so I spend most of my time getting them out of the house before they kill each other.

I didn’t suffer with post natal depression with my first child, which is apparently weird. Although it made it a lot easier to spot that this time was different, but carries a large guilt that I’m not doing everything as well this time around.

I pretty much carry a lot of guilt about everything.

Well, everything parenting related.

I’m going to try and write as regularly as possible, hope someone out there enjoys reading what is in my boggled mind and can maybe even relate? If so, please let me know by commenting below or by giving me an email> thatmummyblog@gmail.com

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