Brazenmom

When babies are ill mommies are the best medicine. I am blessed with a healthy baby who is rarely ill. She had a dodgy week in August and that’s it really. But November has made up for a sick-free year, with an unpleasant cold that ended up being Roseola (aka fake measles), a vomitous stomach bug, a weird red eye that displayed no symptoms of an eye infection… and then a couple of new molars (are babies supposed to cut molars before the are 1?) to top things off.

I say “poor Amelia” with much gusto and then I say “poor me” with even more. One of the toughest things as a parent is to watch your child ill, uncomfortable and in pain, and know that there is relatively little that you can do about it other than offer plenty of kisses and cuddles, and not let the whinging drive you dilly. Read the rest of this entry »

Amelia is a pointer. She points at everything. Why? Because I point at everything. I point out cars, flowers, pictures, pigeons… anything that I think that she would be interested in looking at. And then I tell her about it. So now, in parrot fashion, my year-old-daughter has started pointing at objects and her raised fingure is usually accompanied by a curious “Hmph?”

At home, on Amelia’s bookshelf, is a really large map book. The book contains pictures of all seven continents and on the continents are smaller pictures, which are accompanied by an explanatory key. When Amelia and I look at the book together I often point out different pictures to her – the picture of Big Ben signifying London is a favourite because I tell her about where she was born and about the great city in which she lives. Read the rest of this entry »

My daughter does so many funny things in a day but there are some little gems of delight that just have to be shared. At nearly a year old, Amelia is an excellent mimic. She will watch what I say and do with great intent and at some stage during the day, out of the corner of my eye; I will see Amelia rehashing what I have previously shown her. Amelia, at the moment, considers herself a great hairstylist. Her techniques are revolutionary and she has graciously allowed me to reveal three of her top styling tips. Read the rest of this entry »

We took my 11-month-old daughter to the zoo a couple of weeks ago and it was brilliant fun. I recommend it to any parent. Amelia may be a baby but she loved the animals and the different smells and noises that envelope the zoo enclosures. We got up close and personal with a giraffe, ogled a tarantula, flitted around with some beautiful butterflies and gaped as the King of the Jungle released his mighty predatory roar. But none impressed my daughter as did the monkeys. Read the rest of this entry »

My 11-month-old daughter is developing the most amazing dreadlock (singular intended) at the back of her head. It really is a class act. My babs has never been a fan of sleeping on her belly; lying on her back is Amelia’s most comfortable position. This means that she has rubbed the hair on the back of her head into a knotted clump of woollen fluff. I brush it religiously and the fluff flattens for about five whole minutes. Then the clump reasserts its rebellious self. One of my mommy friends told me that the back of her 4-year-old daughter’s head has been in a permanent state of frizz since she was a baby. So my plan is to keep brushing and washing Amelia’s clump and if a dreadlock takes shape, I will simply convert to Rastifarianism and move to Jamaica.

Almost every pregnancy book and magazine I read stressed the importance of having a birth plan. But, the articles added, I should be prepared for the birth not to go entirely according to plan. No problem, I thought. I’m flexible.

My plan was to have a natural, intervention-free labour and birth. After all, I reasoned, if my mom could pop out four babies without needing any drugs, why couldn’t I? Even if I turned out to be a wuss who needed an epidural, I’d still be able to pop out my baby. I have childbearing hips, I used to tell my friends when I was at school. Read the rest of this entry »

Any free lovin’, huggin’ hippies out there? If that’s you, take note of the following names: Poppy Honey, Daisy Boo, Petal Blossom Rainbow and Buddy Bear Maurice. These are the names of chef Jamie Oliver’s four children. I love Jamie but seriously… Buddy Bear? It’s hard not to judge.

Keen for more? Check out these beauties:

Australian soap star Ingo Rademacher called his son Peanut.
Geri Halliwell’s daughter is named Bluebell Madonna.
US actress Shannyn Sossamon has a son called Audio Science.
Jordan ‘s daughter is Princess Tiaamii.
Frank Lampard’s little girl is called Luna Coco Patricia.
US magician Penn Jillette named his daughter Moxie CrimeFighter .

Be afraid. Be hysterical. Be inspired. The aforementioned names certainly result in some kind of ‘Be’. Perhaps that’s the point?

At 11 months of age my little girl makes the most amazing sounds, from the conventional “mamama”, “bababa”, “dadada” to gurgles, shrieks and high pitched squeals. She also roars like a lion, giggles uncontrollably and chuckles at random intervals.

One noise that has ingrained itself in Amelia’s vocabulary is an Orcish grunt reminiscent of the humanoids of Middle Earth. As my baby has grown older, her Orc grunt has lost its fervour but it still makes an appearance every now and then. And I am noticing a trend. The Orc grunt is voiced when I ruin Amelia’s fun by asking her not to do something – usually not to touch the computer, not to play with wires or not to put into her mouth whatever random object she may have dug out of the carpet. She listens very well but her compliance is always accompanied with an Orc grunt. Read the rest of this entry »

It is common knowledge that stats are fundamentally flawed because they can be manipulated to suit the intended outcome. So, for example, if you want to prove that C-sections are on the rise in England, take your data from the southern part of the country, conversely, if you want to prove that women in England favour natural birth, take your data from the North. Being carefully selective of where information is drawn is just one small way in which statistical data can be shaped.

I recently read some stats in Practical Parenting & Pregnancy that I hope have been manipulated in some way:

ONE IN FIVE young adults thinks the umbilical cord is a musical note.

ONE IN EIGHT thinks a C-section is a religious group.

ONE IN 10 thinks eating read meat during pregnancy can affect the sex of the baby. Read the rest of this entry »

My baby girl is a proper little bulldozer. She is not yet cognisant of the fact that the laws of physics will not allow her to transfuse through objects. Amelia barges her way around our flat like a bull in a china shop and gets mad when chairs and tables do not move out of her way. It is both highly entertaining and brilliantly funny.

My 11-month-old-daughter also seems to be under the impression that she is some sort of super-baby who has the power to torpedo off objects and survive. The number of times that she has been caught in mid-catapult, seconds before her head is introduced to the floor, are too many to count. “No Amelia. You are not super-baby – at least not in the flying around the room sense of the word.” Read the rest of this entry »