I’ve watched it like 20 times!

Said my mum on a text today.

She is talking about a video that I sent dad which showed Freya…..


Yes that’s right, we have a walker people. She is taking very wobbly and drunken steps with some epic falls but we are now on two feet. A brave new world.

I feel like I should sign this blog off – there is no more to say – I can’t top this.

It’s such a simple human achievement, however I am one proud mummy.

Here we come Clarks!

A x

p.s in other news we are also feeding oneself and sleeping a lot better, wouldn’t be surprised if we started do quantum physics next week! After a 1.5 years life is easing up. #dontjinxit

Do you think she will be a Tomboy?

When asked this question recently, I was unsure. Unsure of even the definition of what a Tomboy was to see if it could be applied to my daughter.

Tomboy; a girl who enjoys rough, noisy activities traditionally associated with boys.

Without sounding like I’ve swallowed an edition of ‘Feminism in the 21st Century’, but does this term even exist anymore?

In a larger sense, women, (not just small female people) shout just as loud as men in the office, in parliament, on the playing field.

They compete in ‘rough’ sporting challenges and team sports. (I add this as the women’s England football team recently just missed out on the World cup July 2015)

The types of activities that are ‘traditionally associated with boys’ I think has gone out the window. On the flip side, we have seen the dawning of an age where there is such a thing as ‘guy-liner’. Where men are now opting to be a stay at home Dad, raising the children and taking care of all the domesticated duties.

I digress.

As usual.

My little girl’s behaviour.

What I know:

She does like to make noise, whether that is banging a 20p against the shower glass door (that was annoying) and she can play extremely rough sometimes (the family members have the scratches to prove it). She doesn’t mind getting stuck into activities, getting messy, having lunch all around her face or even crawling all over wet grass!

She has an extremely caring nature, where she shares her food and always makes sure her baba has her ‘bot bot’. She is becoming ‘cuddly’ and says the word ‘kuggle’ when she wants a hug (or wants something and knows how to emotionally blackmail you). Anything that is classed as ‘bitty’ on the floor she picks up and says ‘dirty mummy’ and I have to remove it.

To conclude, she is who she is. She is neither a tomboy or a little lady and I wouldn’t change her for the world. ;)

Bad day huh?!

I think Freya’s had a personality transplant.

OR the ‘terrible two tantrums’ are brewing

OR….she’s having a bad day or more to the point a bad week.

She will throw something across the room (with real power, the girl has a mean right arm) then look at me…look at the item across the room and then…..meltdown. And when I say meltdown….REAL tears, rocking back and forth, inconsolable. When I try to comfort her I get a wild crazy NOOOO! as if what I’m suggesting is slightly barbaric (?)

Now, I keep reading the same thing…which is ‘when your baby can’t articulate his feelings he will become very frustrated’. Yes yes I see that…

‘tantrums arrive as your baby can’t rationalise his behaviour or wants’….yes yes again I can see what you’re saying…so what do I do….scroll down….

Yeah – it doesn’t say what to do. There’s no quick fix solution for this.

It doesn’t say ignore your baby see what happens? (which is what I tried) – nor try forcing calpol into their gob as s*** this must be pretty bad she must be in pain (that wasn’t fun for either of us and I ended up having it – yum!) try distracting them with a toy/Mr Tumble/singing (as predicted my singing only brought on an influx of more crying) Hmmm?

I’m all out of ideas. Any help much appreciated. Jo Frost> supernanny?

I feel like some crazy, emotionally unstable pea pod baby has taken over and I want the old one back. The old one was impatient and would go mad if I didn’t deliver the goods fast enough (by goods I obviously mean petit flous) but at least I knew where I stood.

Maybe I should just cut the girl a bit of slack and she’s got a lot on her plate right now and maybe, just maybe she’s having a crappy week.

Next please!

Society are obsessed with ‘what next?’

Recently I have been to hen-do, girly gatherings and a (very lovely boho) wedding. The thing is with these social gatherings is that people like to talk. Drink and talk! What a crazy notion!

What you will inevitably find is people ask ‘what next?’. I guess it’s nice to know how the story ends. They like to know how it all pans out….

When I was single I used to get: ‘Are you seeing anyone?’

When you have someone it’s: ‘Will you two move in together do you think?’

When you have moved in together: ‘Any plans for the spare bedroom – nursery?’

When you have produced ‘the pitter patter of little feet': ‘Any plans to have any more?’

And then obviously in-between there are the ‘my hat is collecting dust’, ‘old bride’ / ‘bastard child’ jokes on when you will make it all official by ‘putting a ring on it’.

The questions perhaps aren’t daunting when you have an answer for them. Dan and I have been having one of those conversations at the moment. (I make it sound like it’s a united thing – I think there’s lots of ‘baby crap’ around the house and think can I sell this or shall I keep? …then force a conversation Dan actually doesn’t feel comfortable having).

Any more? Can we really do this again? Would we survive? Still be together? If we have another one that doesn’t sleep will that lead to a nervous breakdown?????

We have, I think for sanity purposes, said no more. Just the one. Keep it simple. I’m still not selling my pram that I love or throwing out ALL the baby clothes (JUST in case) but for now, no more.

We have surfaced after a year. It’s life Jim but not as we know it, but a sense of normality has resumed. I think returning to work has given for me anyway a natural ebb back into the rhythm that is our chaotic family life.

Run Freya, Run!

No, not really. Let’s learn to walk first!

14 months: People ask me sometimes when you hit your ‘milestones’, like sitting up for the first time etc and it’s awful but sometimes I don’t know! I’m so preoccupied with moving on to your next stage that I haven’t made a note, mental or otherwise. So here goes…

What’s going on? It is quite clear my little angel that you are a talker not a mover.

Words you say: Pepper (still) – Turtle – Biscuit – Chocolate – Baby (you LOVE your baby) – Cheese – Cheers (and you clink your sippy cup with anyone who has drink) – Bot Bot (bottle) – Dog – Cat – Paul – Nana – Mama – Gaga (your name for daddy) – Shoes – Keys – Car – Got – More – No – Sophie.

Action: You can CRAWL – except now you combine your teddy bear rolling with crawling to work out the fastest way to get there. You can pull yourself up but not to standing position. You still walk with assistance.

Favourite Toys: Baba/baby! Ed the Ted – Sophie – books – balls.

Teeth: 5

13 months: Started nursery!

Hola viejo amigos!

And by that I mean….hello old friends…

Yes you! – jeans that I wore pre-pregnancy.

Yes you! – bra size (I’ll not say – how dare you ask!) I’ve had since I was in my mid-twenties.

And Yes hello again – knickers that don’t look like a giant catapult.

This is just a little interjection of a blog to say, it’s true what they say: –

‘It takes a year to get your body back to normal.’

It’s strange, about a month before my year was up the rest of the ‘puppy fat’ just fell away. Like someone got a memo to my body a bit late saying; ‘Come on, the year’s nearly up!!!’

It is also reassuring to know that pregnancy, although it plays havoc with your mind, body and spirit – you get ‘home’ again.

She’s one!

Freya, I marvel at you every day. 

 I write this as a log of a space in time, one that I will have already archived as you change daily.

Your favourite word is CAT. You say cat about 50 times a day. Everything is cat. We have numerous farm books and each animal especially if it is black/white is CAT. It is because you love our cat Pepper who I hate to say doesn’t reciprocate your feelings. I have recently taught you how to say POP to mix it up a bit. 

When you hear music or singing you wiggle your bum and dance. Even if an advert has music you start to move. You remind me of one of those sunflowers in the 80’s that dance when they heard vibrations of song. 

You have mastered the frown and scowl to a tea. Sometimes I forget that you are one. You engage your audience with your frown, you get a reaction from whoever you are toying with and then seconds later the most devious beautiful smile springs into action. It’s infectious and you know it.

You love being centre of attention, which I love to watch. On your birthday I sat next to you when they all sang to you as I thought you would be in floods of tears. If anything you relished it and clapped the singing crowd for an encore. 

 You know exactly what you want and you have so many devoted family members who adore you, you usually get it. All you have to do is reach your arm out, look in the direction of the object and then raise your eyebrows to say ‘are you going to pass me that?’. Which is probably why you’re not walking yet. You can, assisted, but you prefer to get around on your own by rolling.

You are fiercely independent. You want to drink from my glass and hold the glass. You want to hold the spoon and dip it in the yoghurt. You love your food but in particular cheese (still) – cheesey pie / grated / cheddar / Leicester / cheese flavoured snacks. And blueberries – all berries raspberries, strawberries, blackberries.

I’m now rabbling as it’s so much information that changes all the time but some things still remain. Which I guess is how the mechanics of our personalities are built. 

I’m looking forward to the next chapter my little angel.