March brings Mother's Day, something that is even more special now I have children to share it with. Not only do I get to recognise the amazing woman that my mother is and the wonderful Grandma that she is to my boys, but I have an opportunity to stop and realise how lucky I am to be a Mummy to two beautiful children myself.
I always knew that I wanted children, although the number or the time frame was something I didn't need to worry about until the future, or so I thought. Motherhood came from nowhere for me and in some ways I was lucky, never having to go through the tough times of trying without luck, or the heartbreak of loss. The reality is that it came with its own struggles, the not knowing, the newness, the beginning of a relationship. One day I was a girl, the next a mother, carrying a tiny human being inside of me.
Motherhood was a journey, through pregnancy, birth and those newborn days and is still a journey now, an adventure. I have two little people that call me Mummy, that make me question everything I thought I knew, and every part of me. Two children that want cuddles from their mummy before bed, who want to hold my hands as we walk, who want to snuggle with me on the sofa. Two children that need me to teach them, to cook for them, to fix their woes and kiss every hurt better. Two children that need me as much as I need them.
Monday, 10 March 2014
It has been a year since Archie entered the world and turned our little family of three into a busy four. For a whole year I have been a mother to two, splitting my time between the boys, finding activities that appeal to both a baby and a toddler, and enjoying the new family dynamic.
At the same time as showing this new independence, he has become a mummy's boy, and I realised that in the year since Archie's arrival, I haven't spent time with Dylan on his own. After 18 months of my undivided attention, he was suddenly given a baby brother and everything changed. He has coped so well with this, but at two and a half he is such an amazing little boy, and last weekend I got to spend a few hours alone with him.
It has become clear though recently that Dylan needs some one on one time. He has entered a cuddly phase (which I am certainly not complaining about, but he needs to be involved in everything. He is proving his independence in so many little ways, insisting that he can put on his pants and trousers every morning, needing to put his cup and bowl in the sink after breakfast.
Friday, 7 March 2014
Wednesday, 5 March 2014
This is not a post I expected to be writing, yet here I am, still nursing Archie at one year old. When I was pregnant with Dylan, I knew that I wanted to breastfeed, and thought six weeks seemed a good length of time. I didn't really know anyone that had fed past a couple of months and that seemed to be the natural point to swap to formula and bottles.
The six week mark came and went. We had established our routine, my milk had come in and settled and things were going smoothly. The idea of sterilising, buying powder every week and carrying more around in my already bulging nappy bag was not appealing, and I decided that I may even feed my son until six months. By then he would be sitting up, eating solids and not needing to nurse any more, or so I thought. I started going to the local breastfeeding support group, mostly because it followed on from baby massage, but I started to see people feeding children from babies up to one year olds, and the idea of feeding a little longer was a lot less strange.
Monday, 3 March 2014
There are some toys that our children will love for a few months and then we pass them on to family and friends, or put them in the loft ready for a future baby, but there are also those that really stand the test of time. Playmobil is one of those things that will capture imaginations from as young as 18 months, and still be interesting many years later. It is the kind of toy I have already earmarked for the grandchildren, as the toys are classic, timeless and hardwearing.
Sunday, 2 March 2014
One of the best things about being little, was building forts and dens. Changing something ordinary into something special and secret was the perfect antidote to a rainy afternoon. Dylan is no different, and we have spent many a day cuddled under blankets, sheets and clothes airers, reading books, playing with torches and having secret tea parties.
Friday, 28 February 2014
Pictures tell a story, and this is the story of us. Not glamorous, not particularly exciting but our story nonetheless. Bedtime is busier with two; two bodies to wash, two pairs of pajamas to dress with, two faces to wash, two sets of teeth to clean. And then there is one cuddle, one family and one story. We curl up on Dylan's beanbag next to his bed, and he chooses a story to read.