Always ask for hamsters when Mum is weak

So the toddlers have been on a campaign. Mostly to get a dog. This is where the clever part happens. They lie quietly in wait. See their opportunity and strike. We’ve explained to them that a dog can’t happen right now. It’s not fair on anyone for a big furry to join us. I’d love a dog, but not until the kids (even the bump!) are at school. I’m a realist, for once, and realise that I’d be the one caring for it and walking several times a day, once their enthusiasm had long gone. With 3 kids under 5, I don’t believe that to be realistic for any of us. A hamster, on the other hand, is not quite so taxing and relatives don’t mind babysitting quite so much when the pet won’t chew their carpet (unless she escapes!).

So, yesterday, I made the rookie decision to allow us to go to the pet shop, after the sickness bug had subsided. The boys campaigned pretty hard, even though the eldest was sad that “pet-shops didn’t sell dogs”. We decided to adopt a gorgeous little grey and white syrian hamster, who has been christened Sophie by the eldest even thought that’s what husband wanted to call bump

I’ve had to oil her wheel and there was much excitement last night, when she ventured out of her (already chewed) temporary house from the pet shop. It takes me back to being a kid myself.

I remember once, I’d brought a friend from school home to meet my hamster, Eva. Sadly, after being with us quite a long time, the Eva the hamster chose that very day to pass away to the hamster wheel of the sky. Myself, aged about 8, was devastated. A very helpful Uncle told me she was just hibernating. Unfortunately for him, we had already buried her under a tree in the big garden. Much to my parents’ alarm, I then wanted to perform an exhumation. It led to some important conversations about death.

I think that having a creature to see, care for and understand its life cycle is good for children. Even though it will be me cleaning her tray and looking after her. The kid in me can’t wait.



The dreaded lurgy

It’s happened. The dreaded lurgy has struck our house. The eldest was sick once in Thursday, so kept him off from preschool. I think he must have a tummy of steel as that was it. Sadly for the rest of us, it hasn’t been so straight forward.
I went to work at my office placement and about lunchtime, started feeling ill. Thanks to lovely colleagues, I was dispatched home pretty immediately. Long story short, at 34 weeks pregnant , that night I ended up at out of hours GP at the hospital, with one undignified shot to the bottom region, some buccastem and a wheelchair to the car. Mum babysat whilst long suffering husband took me there and back.

That’s when the real fun started. We got home to find the youngest being very ill on grandma. It wasn’t a good night. I felt awful as couldn’t even help as I was too busy being ill myself.

The calm after the storm came the next day. Things calmed down and we all had a dvd day at home. The eldest, who was fine, thought Christmas had come early, he was allowed to stay in pjs and watch tv all day. Something which never happens here, so at aged 4, this was like nirvana.

Now it’s time to get back to normal. Only 3 loads of washing left to do… Planning on taking boys conker collecting and leaf collecting and getting some fresh air while making some prints. Wish me luck!


Working 9-5 or flying around the world

Working 9-5 or flying around the world

I have about 2 weeks left at work. When pregnant, flight attendants (also known as cabin crew here in the U.K.) get a ground job. I’ve loved every one of my ground placements and count myself lucky that I don’t have to fly when pregnant. Office work is tiring enough, without having to deal with jet lag, a heightened sense of smell and lots of physically hard work (for hours on end).

I do miss flying, I see friends having lovely adventures on Facebook, I miss “me time” which the office can never give me in the same way. I miss cheap pedicures and trips out to go on safari in Africa. Or skydiving in Vegas. The list goes on. I do love being home every night to tuck my babies into bed though and my emotions on this are mixed. Very soon I’ll hopefully have my baby girl to hold too and maternity leave from the skies and the office for over a year.

I know I’ll miss work for my own sanity. I’m not cut out to be a stay at home mum. I wish I was. I’d love to have the patience and dedication to devote self 24/7 to these tiny humans who are getting bigger every day. I find that a trip helps to keep me sane, I dread going, on the day, but have a great time, being an adult for a couple of days and then cannot wait to get home to snuggle my kids. It’s a life I don’t feel ready to give up (possibly ever). It’s a balance and sometimes a huge contradiction. Like a lot of parenting turns out to be.




The perils of DIY

The perils of DIY

This post is fairly inevitable, after yesterday’s excursion to ikea. First the dump and then the stressful experience of making husband feel manly by directing “assisting” him with putting up shelves and various pieces of furniture.

I feel like I have aged about 20 years and struggled to keep eyes open in eldest’s swimming class. I do feel glad that it’s all done though and that the nursery is taking shape. Now for the mountains of baby clothes to be washed.



The dangerous nesting visit to Ikea

Today was the day. In fact it’s the second time I’ve been this pregnancy. I thought that the nesting instinct would get less intense with each pregnancy. Wrong!

I seem to be trying to organise everything. Things like ironing newborn clothes have long gone out of the window (that stopped with my first born), but buying accessories and rugs? I was there today. Somewhere between the aisle of despair and ecstasy, I picked up a load of stuff which we all obviously needed. Hmm.

The really good bit was, that I went solo, unlike last time. Last time I nearly lost two children in the bed department (they rigorously tested each one), much to my husband’s dismay. I also tried to put the eldest into Smaland crèche, which resulted in delayed tears from him, so a retrieval phone call by the time I’d even entered the kiddie section upstairs. So, in comparison, today was good.

One tired pregnant woman tonight but feel like a small time shopping genius, with coordinated bins and toothbrush holders… The three men in my life think I’m vaguely bonkers. Never mind, I’m off to recycle/bin the old stuff I’ve replaced in the morning. Nesting -it’s a compulsion!

A “quick” visit to the Consulant

Which took about 3 hours.. So I went in to get a check up and book a c section today. During measuring I came up as 4cms too small.. Straight off to have a scan. Baby had other ideas, she is in fact huge! Apart from her head, she’s on the 95th percentile on everything else and weighs 5lbs 10oz already!! I’m only 33 weeks! Only 6 weeks to go until c section. Seems far too real!

My definition of “getting organised”

Being pregnant is lovely. It’s privileged and I don’t wish to moan about it and its many random foibles (much, anyway).

One thing I do find though, is that I seem to be awake half of the whole night, every night. This isn’t fun when you know that, at around 6.30am, two very enthusiastic toddlers will want your attention and to play houses/monkeys on the bed or similar. Still, awake I am (like now, at 3.54am).

There is an upshot though. This has become my own time. I use it to plan for baby number 3’s arrival. I order random things online. I torture myself with images from Pinterest and laugh at funny posts online. It’s part of the reason I’ve started this blog, when I realised that I have no real record of the boys growing up, except in my mind. It’s my time to plan what to do next, what the next week holds or how I’m going to try to cope with 3 children under the age of five in a few weeks.

Being awake at this time has its benefits in other ways, despite my husband complaining and blaming my iPhone for keeping me up with its glare or my latest Kindle obsession. It’s my own time, my selfish time, my “I don’t feel guilty for being online time”. For now. In a few weeks, I hope a lovely newborn will be joining me. If she’s anything like the last two, then I will be googling all the things I’m not sure about, from cradle cap to growth spurts, as they crop up, reading books and trying not to fall asleep feeding. It’s a lovely time, the middle of the night. In its own way.