Brazenmom

Ever since my daughter was born, she has stared into space, focused on something invisible. Now that she’s a bit older, she smiles and coos at something only she can see. She could be crazy – considering her gene pool, that wouldn’t be too much of a surprise. (Grampa runs long-distance marathons for fun, Nanna’s alter ego is Pastor Poppie of Stuff, her three uncles switch accents throughout the day, Mommy has several characters in her head at any given time and Daddy gets paid to be someone else.) Or – and this is the option I’m going with – she sees angels. Read the rest of this entry »

Dear Bug

Your first year of life has been filled with a wonderful sense of fun and adventure inspired by some fab holidays that you have had the privilege of experiencing. As I think about all the amazing things that you have seen and done, I can’t help but laugh at the fact that you will remember precisely none of it. But don’t worry, we will show you the photos – and we have plenty of them.

Although you won’t remember the things that you have done, I do think that all of your adventures have enhanced your natural baby curiosity by enlivening an inquisitive nature and love for being out and about. The other day we went to visit Kenwood House, a magnificent historical villa in the midst of Hampstead Heath, and you were mesmerised by the beautiful old chandeliers and rows of lovely smelling books. As we walked through the rooms of the old house, your excited squawks of delight showed that you recognised the tangible atmosphere of history that permeated each room. I showed you the paintings on the walls and you gaped at them with your big blue eyes – you were particlularly interested in a small paiting of some gondolas floating on the canals in Venice. Read the rest of this entry »

Dear Diary, the best thing about you is that you accommodate my indulgent pontifications. And boy, have I been pontificating.

Without trying to belittle my role as a mother, the closer it gets to my 11-month-old’s first birthday, the more conscious I become of the fact that I am a mere custodian – my baby girl is not actually mine. Amelia harbours my genes, and will undoubtedly grow according to my influence – nature and nurture – but she bears her own temperament and personality, and one day she will leave my home to start her own life and fulfil her own dreams. Read the rest of this entry »

Diary, sometimes I wonder how I manage my life. I knew that having a baby would change things – but there is a difference between intellectual knowledge, which is somewhat remote, and emotive experience, which is inescapably real.

To the very core of my being I believe that it is best to stay at home and raise my daughter in the way the hubby and I know is best. So bye bye boring publishing job and hello writing career. This is monumentally scary but also brilliantly exciting. Read the rest of this entry »

I write the following tale so that my darling daughter can read it in years to come and know what a brilliant baby she is.

After spending a fun Halloween evening carving pumpkins, bitching about Wagner, eating copious amounts and laughing hysterically we (daddy, mommy and baby) managed to catch the midnight tube home. As we settled into our seats for an hour-long train ride, the journey progressed uneventfully until, two stops before our destination, the train stopped dead. The train stopped dead for an hour, which, as a passenger travelling alone, is irritating but manageable. We were not alone. Our adorable but very tired baby was gracing us with her gorgeous presence. Think: overtired baby, hot tube, nowhere to go: the recipe for disaster in any parent’s book. Read the rest of this entry »

I found it (mental high five)! “What?” you may ask. My brain dear diary, my beloved brain. It took me ten months but I finally found it hiding amidst masses and masses and masses of baby paraphernalia. This baby paraphernalia seems to have monopolised all thinking patterns. But brain is back with a vengeance.

Following the birth of my lovely Amelia, my dear brain went on hiatus and consequentially I have been unable to think for many months. I have a sneaking suspicion that my precious brain thought that I was replacing its intellect with mushy momyness. But over time brain has come to realise that mommy and intelligence and can coexist. Yes! Well done brain. I am so glad to have you back. It’s time to take over the world.

Dear Tangy

I fell in love with you the moment you were conceived and when I held you in my arms for the first time that love burst in a way I never thought possible. Looking at your beautiful face, so often brings tears to my eyes. I can’t believe that God gave you to me to look after. My miracle. My little bundle of loveliness: a perfect symbol of the love shared between the beings who created you. I could spend hours watching your facial expressions and I try to imprint them on my mind so that I won’t forget. I am mesmerised by your big, inquisitive eyes and I am already addicted to our chats about life and to telling you stories of fantastical worlds, creatures and adventures. I want to protect you and cuddle you and adore you eternally. Tangy, I love you and I promise to be the best mom that I can be.

Devoted to you
Mommy

So, was it as bad as I thought it would be? Yes with a capital Y. Oh the pain! Dear Diary, here is my Labour story:

It lasted 15 hours. Need I say more? Probably not but I will. I had a plan (kind of) which involved not having an epidural but after ten and a half hours of utter agony and a cervix that had dilated only 6cm (of the 10cm dilation required to begin pushing) I asked myself “what the shit am I trying to prove here?” and succumbed to the epidural. Contextually, it wasn’t painful. This could be relative to the preceding ten and a half hours of pain. Who knows? Anyway, much to the disgust of naturalists, tree-huggers and hemp-wearers, I had the epidural and the relief was almost instantaneous. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s happened. Two weeks early – WTF? I thought first babies were supposed to be late! I had ‘a show’ this morning at 7am and water has been trickling out all day. No waterfalls or gushing. It’s now 9pm and still no contractions. If nothing happens naturally by 8am tomorrow morning I will be induced. Whilst sitting on the toilet this morning as water leaked out my vag, I thought that it would probably be a good idea to write down my birth plan in my antenatal notes, as I was meant to do some weeks back; I remembered that my flat looks like the aftermath of a nuclear bomb and that I would need to clean; I have also done no ‘nesting’ – the baby’s crib is still sitting in a box. Then I got excited about the idea of taking my baby girl to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park. Woopee! Time for a pad – can’t sit on the toilet all day. Read the rest of this entry »

The big 37 week mark has come and gone: my baby girl is fully grown and if she is born any time from yesterday she will be considered a full-term baby, not prem. Awesome. Her head is getting ready to ‘engage’ and I have put together a vague semblance of a birth plan (involving no epidural – I do consider myself quite insane) that I still need to write down in my antenatal book. Note to self: write down birth plan. Other than that I am still shitting – no changes there. I have had very few ‘baby dreams’ of late, other than one significant dream that certainly makes up for the lack. I had a dream that I was in labour for what seemed like ever and when I eventually gave birth, my baby looked like a miniature H.R. Geiger Alien but cream-coloured rather than black. I remember being a little scared of the baby but I still loved it, which, hopefully, is an indication that if I breed a mutant I will still love it. So that’s good news. Read the rest of this entry »