The first sick baby experience

The first sick baby experience

Chloe had her first real illness this week, a lovely viral infection caught from her first week at daycare no doubt. I was completely aware that putting her into daycare would have her catching every kind of nasty little bug and infection but like a lot of new parents I was dreading the first illness and we’ve been mighty lucky to have almost made it to 1 year old without so much as a runny nose. I first thought I had been a shit mum and given her questionable meat again (yeah it’s happened once..or twice, OK twice) but when she started cuddling up to me as she softly sobbed I knew something was wrong.

After waking through the night in a pool of spew I scooped her up and gave her a warm bath, filled her up with as much water as she’d take, temp check (apparently my thermometer from the BigW bargain bin is faulty..who’d of thunk it) and back to bed where she slept the night like usual. Next morning she did a poo worthy of a nuclear plant explosion or volcano eruption, the kind where there’s no point trying to salvage the soaked onsie – just throw it is the nappy sack and in the bin! Another spew and snuggling into my shoulder had me running out the door to the walk-in doctor service. “Viral infection, lots of fluids and Panadol/Nurofen to keep her temp down and she’ll be right in a few days. Oh and you’ll probably get it too so be prepared”. Ok, cheers Doc.

The afternoon was spent cuddling and watching toons with my sick little cub. Although I was heartbroken to see her in pain and sobbing every few minutes with body aches and cramps I actually fucking loved the cuddles. If you have read my other blogs you’ll know Chloe hates being cuddled and held so I did not mind one ounce to be snuggled up all arvo with my bambina. She even fell asleep on me which she has only ever done maybe 4 times in her life. My heart felt so full and for a short while I felt like I was all she needed and I was the worlds most boss mum rather than the “fumbling-googling-calling my sister for mum wisdom at the first sign of a unusually runny nappy” that I usually am.

Fast forward 12 hours and Chloe is nearly back to her normal self. She has already thrown her standard tantrum at breakfast, the audacity of me to try and help a sista out with a fork for her crumbly crust-less egg omelet. Then for me to softly say ‘no no’ when she threw her crumpets on the floor – god what was I thinking, I’m such a horrible mother. Sensitive Suzy is back in full force. Is it wrong of me to prefer her sick? Does it make me a bad person to miss the sluggish snugly bubu she was yesterday?

I’ve mentioned it in a previous blog but Chloe rarely comes to me for comfort when she is sad or hurt. She generally just cries it out on her own as she just struggles out of my grips if I try cuddling her to calm her down. I know in future this may be a good thing as she won’t be reliant on me when ever she takes a tumble or another kid steals her toy but not gonna lie, it makes my heart hurt a little to not be needed. I mean I know she needs me, obvs she cant change her own nappy or dress herself yet but to not have to force hugs on her would be fab. I guess she gets her lack of need for affection from me, although since becoming a mum a good old love oozing, boob crushing hug is much appreciated for this mama bear.

I know she is going to be sick a lot more over the next few months as she settles into daycare and I know there are going to be days where I’m covered in spew and/or snot wishing she would get better quick so I can move around the house without a life sucking leech of a baby on my hip but for that one day, the first sickness – it wasn’t so bad and I actually loved the little love bug she was. And of course I still love her when she’s not sick, her independence will one day turn her into a strong willed and confident young lady I’m sure. But I definitely wont be so terrified of her next sick spell, cuddles come at me!

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I told her she smelt funky, “Who, me?!?”
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Things I wish I’d done before having a baby

Things I wish I’d done before having a baby

I think I’ve said it more than enough but having a baby changes your life in every way you could imagine. It’s amazing, exhausting, rewarding, eye-opening, humbling, terrifying, did I mention exhausting?! Your reason for waking up in the morning (or several times through the night in some cases) is not for you anymore, everything you do is for your child. This doesn’t mean you will always lose yourself but you will discover a whole new side to yourself that you otherwise might not have known.

Looking back now I wish I had taken advantage of my freedom more before I had a baby. Chloe was planned and I am far from being a teen mum, 7 years away to be exact so I had plenty of time pre baby to run a muck and live out my early 20’s wild and free. But I was a bit boring and scared to step outside my comfort zone. I’ve only been overseas once and that was to Bali with some girlfriends for a joint birthday bash but even then I didn’t necessarily let loose (probably a good thing as I was actually pregnant with Chloe but was very early and unaware). I was never a big drinker, only smoked on the odd social occasion, never jumped out of a plane, never had a one night stand (I have been with my husband for nearly 12 years so that would have been awkward and inappropriate at age 15), I’ve never even skinny dipped.

So as I’m nearing 30 (gulp!!!) I should probably start a bucket list of things I want to accomplish in my 30’s but first, here is a list of things I wish I’d done in my pre baby days. *Disclaimer* I know I could very well still do these things now with a baby but let’s be real, Miss Plain Jane here probs won’t get round to it.

  • Travel! I remember when we bought our house so many people said that we should travel first, explore the world before getting tied down with a mortgage then a baby. Well I wish I’d heeded that advise. I used to say I just wasn’t a traveller but if I’m being honest (which you know I’d be nothing less) I was just scared of the unknown. I’m very process driven and a planner, I’ll plan a day out mentally the night before down to how long it will take to pick an outfit if I haven’t already laid it out the night prior. The thought of packing a bag and travelling to another part of the world with no idea of what will come next may sound exciting and liberating to some but to me it is pure anxiety and terror. I’m fascinated by stories of travel, tales of discovering new parts of the globe, meeting people of different backgrounds and cultures, trying food from different continents..I could listen to a backpackers stories for hours. But I do wish I had discovers more of the world myself – maybe I still will, maybe I won’t but I will definitely encourage Chloe to discover the world when she’s older and I’ll live vicariously through her adventures.
  • Enjoyed the time with just the two of us. Now take note Mr Beecroft, we didn’t go on too many “dates” before we decided to make a mini human. To be fair Brett was working a 3:1 roster and my work hours were long too so there wasn’t a whole lot of time but I’m regretful that we didn’t make more time. We went and had the odd meal together but nothing more than a meal at our local pub or brekky at the coffee shop. Why oh why didn’t we book a sneaky hotel room down South every now and then or go all out and stay at the Casino for a night?!? We did take a short trip to Sydney together for a few nights which was wonderful but only that one time in the 12 years of being together. Spontaneous getaways were few and far between but as Chloe gets older I’m sure we can palm her off to family and make a swift getaway. Brett I hope your reading this and making a mental note sir!
  • Appreciated my body more! As it will never EVER be the same again. I already had a pretty weird body shape before Chloe, I would say I’m a weird mix of an apple and an hourglass but not quiet a pear. A butternut pumpkin perhaps. But now that I carried a baby in my pouch and stretched the shit out of my tum and hips I’d say I’m still a butternut but in one of those stretchy mirrors you see at a fairground. I’ve written a blog on my body image woes but I’m not super body confident so I didn’t wear a lot of bikinis before housing a fetus but I really wish I’d just appreciated my curvy, non stretch marked, relatively non wobbly bod a bit more. I’m sure the hubs would agree but I also wish I’d strutted around in the nuddy more, in the comfort of my home of course. I’m not a prude but I am a lady, no nip slips happeneing around here!
  • Taken more hour-long baths. The thought of a long warm bubbly tub with some candles and a glass of pinot noir actually makes me a little giddy. I didn’t utilise our bath nearly enough before it was taken over my rubber ducks and foam tub stickies. I haven’t jumped in the bath with Chloe yet but perhaps I will next time, I know it won’t be relaxing and I’ll probably end up having to take a shower afterwards as Chloe likes to pee in the bath but I’ll take what I can get.
  • Going on weekend benders with the gals. I see a lot of posts on the old book of facey of younger people I know going on weekend long getaways with their #squad either to music festivals, birthday vaycays or just a trip to Margs to sit at the beach and drink lots of wine coz #yolo. I only did this a few times but I think now “tha fuck wasn’t I doing that every other weekend?!?”. Seriously, what was I doing with all my free adult time? Oh yeah, I was cleaning my house in one day rather than stretched over a week and sitting on my couch for hours on end watching movies and trash TV with absolutely no interruptions. Excuse me while I grab a Kleenex in mourning of my former stress free life (kidding, but maybe a little).
  • Spent more time at the beach and just enjoying the beauty of nature and shit. I love the beach, not swimming in the ocean with all the sharks and man-eating octopus but sitting on a towel under a brolly (gingers – be sun smart!) with my tootsies in the sand, Corona in hand, watching the waves rolling in. Considering I spent most of my life in the Pilbara with half the time a few hundred k’s away from the coast then the other half in iron and red dirt soaked beaches than would burn the souls out of your feet as you legged it across the sand and the water smelt bad and felt like a hot bath – you would think I would spend most of my pre-baby free summers at the gorg beaches of Cottesloe and Trigg. Well I am a bit ashamed to say I have lived in Perth coming up 4 years and the closest I have been to a beach is Hillarys Boat Harbour and I didn’t even go on the sand. I have only just weeks ago been to Bells Rapids for the first time and we live 10 minutes from it. I guess life gets busy but how I wish I’d spent more time exploring the beauty of our city.

As Chloe gets older and more capable of keeping her shit together we may still cross some of these off as a family. Of course there will be less wine involved with most things (or maybe not, bags not doing the early shift #dadduties). We have so many amazing family adventures ahead of us and being able to share incredible moments with my two loves will be so rewarding. Being that we are still fairly young when Chloe is in double digits I think we will be more than happy to send her off to her grandparents while hubs and I take a little trip overseas, maybe Hawaii! Brett, hope your still taking notes buddy!

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So young and care-free, and pierced apparently
Why a blog?

Why a blog?

I didn’t realise blogging was such a massive community until I started discovering the many idols I now follow (albeit stalk) daily. Being a shy person and extremely self critical I honestly didn’t expect anyone to be interested in my rambling, I started blogging as therapy for myself (I suffer from PND and as my husband works away it gets lonley in my own head so writing is extremely therapeutic) and to share my experiences of being a first time mother with my husband working away from home . If I were ever to inspire or make another mummy feel at ease that they are experiencing the same difficulties then that would be extremely flattering and amazing but totally unexpected.

In all honesty I didn’t enjoy motherhood in the beginning and some days now I still have moments where I wish I could walk out the door and never return. But blogging has given me an outlet to express my feelings both high and low and I know when I’m having a super shit day where Chloe is teething hard and driving me up the flipping wall I can jump onto Instagram (when the mini terrorist is finally down for a nap) and either find a fellow mummy blogger having as equally shit of a day or having an enviously spectacular day which reminds me this is just a fleeting moment and it will pass. It’s amazing to be able to relate to so many mamas over the same/similar parenting struggles. It really does save your sanity some days to know your not alone and makes you feel so proud to be apart of this exclusive group that is motherhood.

I have found so many incredible bloggers/killer mamas/badass rad women through Instagram who lift my spirt daily and I’m so incredibly admirable of their writing talent and that they are just taking life by the balls and smashing it. It’s probably my overdriven self criticalness but I honestly don’t put myself in the same category as these amazing women and I get totally fan girl when I see one of them like one of my posts or follow me. I never started my blog with the expectation to gain thousands of followers but I always get little stomach butterflies when I see another person follow me. It’s like an achievement for sharing my heart and soul with everyone on the inter web which in itself is super scary but so liberating. I still get so anxious before posting a blog and I feel like a total armature but I get warm fuzzies in my heart when people comment that they enjoy reading my ramblings.

I find myself obsessing a lot about my content and whether people will enjoy it, so much so I’ve had to stop myself re-reading my drafts 47 times before publishing and just take the leap to share my insane thoughts and just hope people wont think I’m total nuts. It probably has something to do with my OCD tendencies but I want to stay genuine but also make sure I don’t overdo it with my sometimes dark humour (incase anyone is worried I do really love my daughter and I dont actually want to donate her to charity – it’s just my ‘Sami humour’). But the amount of support and encouragement I’ve experienced from fellow mummy bloggers is just so heartwarming and humbling, it really is an amazing community to be apart of.

I don’t know how long I’ll continue blogging for. I’d like to think that in the future Chloe will be able to look back on my page and read about why her mama is totes insane, many potty training fails (sorry future Chloe, I’m sure I embarrass you more than you’d like), potentially stories of her sibling/s (calm your tits, this candy store is well and truly closed at the moment but you know, crazier things have happened) and the first time she said a swear word at school. With returning to work, the husband soon starting a local job (no more FIFO – yay, maybe, oh shit I have to live with a boy again) and of course Chloe rapidly approaching toddlerhood I’m certain I’ll have plenty of uplifting, soul destroying, kinda-funny (that ‘Sami humour’), encouraging, rambling stories to share.

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#bloglife
What am I doing wrong?!

What am I doing wrong?!

Something I feel all parents ask themselves daily, what am I doing wrong? Call it mum doubt, parent-noia (aka parent paranoia, aka constant-unnecessary-worry-about-not-much-at-all), mama worry, first time parenting-itis…we all experience it as parents as we all strive to be the best caregivers we can for our little Vegemites but we tend to forget to take a minute to sit and reflect on our hectic and exhausting day to realise that we are doing nothing wrong. We are doing just fine!

We parents put immense pressure on ourselves to be the perfect parents, but what is a perfect parent? How can we expect to be perfect at something we have never done before, or for second/third/fourth etc time parents (btw you’re crazy if you are the ‘etc’time parent!) how can they expect to be perfect parents of their newborn when little Tommy or Trisha have only ever had them to call ma and pa? Where are we even getting this pressure from to be the best at this parenthood gig? Those babes don’t pop out expecting or demanding better, little Johnny (sorry about all the random baby names) didn’t just peak from your V hole complaining of the taste of your boobie juice or even if you feed them formula – if they are fed, changed and warm they are generally happy, unless you have a reflux or colicky baby like me then they will likely complain more than most. But my point is we push ourselves to be extraordinary at something that requires no special certification, no prior training, it’s not a competition, you don’t need to be the best in your division – you just have to do the best you can and some days just the best you can muster up in the moments of chaos is still okay.

It’s inevitable that we are going to worry, from the consistency, size and smell of their pooey nappy to the first time they take their first driving test. It’s our job to worry, but to think we are doing things wrong is something we just shouldn’t be worrying about. Yeah we are going to make mistakes, like that one time you didn’t shake the bottle enough and bubs first gulp of milk was a tad too warm or not refilling the nappy bag with fresh nappies before heading out for a few hours (“Fuck, quick – find the nearest IGA! We’ve got a category 4 shit storm on our hands!”). There is no magic handbook with all the answers, every baby is different so what works for one isn’t always going to work for another. You can read as many parenting books as you like, when baby arrives they’ll still shake up your world like you could have never imagined.

The thing to remember is that your little mini monster will always forgive you. He isn’t judging you, he doesn’t think your failing – he thinks you’re the ducks nuts! Some bubs may have a funny way of showing it – Chloe hates being held and cuddled, always has! Sometimes it makes me sad that when she falls and hurts herself and she will squirm and push away as I try to cuddle and soothe her. I would say “Why won’t you let me comfort you, what have I done wrong for you to not want me to hold you?!?”. Some days I would just put her on the floor and cry along side her as I didn’t know what I had done to make her not want to turn to me to console her. It took a while to realise (and some days I need to remind myself) that she just isn’t a cuddly baby. She is extremely independent and sometimes just needs to have a good cry, not unlike her mama.

I don’t think there is wrong and right when in comes to parenting. There are so many parenting styles out there, some will suit your family and some will seem totally foreign to you and that’s completely fine. Do you, do what’s best for your family. Only you will know, no one can or should tell you how to be a good parent. And if they do tell them to go take a flying leap, as long as baby is happy and healthy it’s absolutely none of their concern. Give yourself a break, you’re not doing anything wrong – you got this mama!

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“Nothing wrong with a bit of chips and gravy for lunch mum!”
The ‘D’ Word

The ‘D’ Word

Slow your roll mum, I’m talking about daycare not divorce. That’s right, it’s time to chuck the kid at a stranger and go back to work. This may seem like a small window of freedom and a glimpse at normalcy for some but for me and I’m sure many others it’s completely terrifying and nerve-wracking. For the fact I need to trust another human that is not my immediate family with my child and also that I  will need to hold an adult conversation with coworkers for longer than it takes for the Woolies check out lady to scan my groceries. Also not stoked about having to dress corporate again, workout pants can pass off as office attire can’t they?

So I’m not ready to go the whole hog yet, I’ll only be going back part-time but that’s still 18 whole hours I will be baby free a week. Gulp! 18 hours without changing nappies, 18 hours not singing mind numbing amounts of nursery rhymes, 18 hours without hearing the baby cry because she can’t get the draws of the TV unit open as they are baby proofed, 18 hours I could go to the toot as many times as I like without having an audience. You would think I’d be rushing to get back to the grind but it’s also 18 hours I can’t see my baby girls smile, 18 hours I can’t smell her hair like a creep, 18 hours I don’t get to hold her little hands as she grabs for me so she can practice walking, 18 hours I can’t force kisses on her cheeks over and over, 18 hours without knowing I can click her monitor on and watch her tussle around in her sleep, 18 whole hours I don’t get to be with the little piece of me that completes my soul.

I know I complain a lot about how hard being a mother is but I think that first day I drop her off and drive out of my suburb knowing I won’t see her all day will be the hardest part yet. I’ve had the occasional few hours that I have left Chloe with family but the one time I’ve left her overnight with my sister I cried like a little child before she was even in the car then broke down at least another 3 times within the first hour. I miss her when she sleeps and I crave for her when she wakes in the morning. She’s not been one of those chilled happy babies and some days I don’t know how I’ve made it to bedtime but she’s my world and I can’t imagine a day without her. Fuck, she’s turned me into a friggen pansy.

I’ve visited two daycare facility so far and the first wasn’t really what I was expecting. Now I know I shouldn’t compare it to my own home where there is only one infant and a mother with OCD that tidies the toys after the bebe goes down for each nap and vacuums the floors twice a day but I wasn’t quite prepared for the baby detention center I was met with. I’m not saying that it was unsatisfactory, I’m sure to most people it would have been more than acceptable but as it was my first time in a Childcare Centre since I was a tot myself I was definitely taken aback.

11 babies were sitting quietly at the table eating their afternoon cruskits, shockingly only one was not cooperating and demanding some of the yogurt one of the other more privilege babies was eating. One baby was just waking from a nap in the cot room of 6 cots, yes only 6 – so cots are doubled and I’m assuming they don’t change the sheets over for each baby. This was the point I was ready to cover Chloe with my shirt to shield her from the festering plague of germs I envisioned in my mind and usher her out of there like there was just a pox outbreak. I’m not a germaphobe but the thought of Chloe sleeping in a cot that another snotty little crayon eater just woke from kind of gives me the heebie jeebies. The baby that had just woken from a nap had done a nasty nuclear poop and one lonely child was playing in a teepee made of wooden off cuts and a bed sheet like a makeshift refugee tent. The room was quite small and cluttered and there was only a very small kitchen/change room that was shared with the toddler room.

Of course in the mind of Sami it was all dramatised to a degree but I guess I was foolishly expecting a clean white room filled with pops of colour from baby artwork, wooden toys, babies cooing and playing cheerfully and fancy child care staff with faultless winged eyeliner and perfectly imperfect messy buns swooning around after the babies laughing and singing ‘a spoon full of sugar’ at them. Wait, that’s Merry Poppins…not modern day Childcare! In reality there were toys everywhere, the cot room smelt of dirty nappy and the staff looked like they just ran a marathon. But I’m sure if I’d just looked after 13 infants for 10+ hours I’d look pretty wrecked too.

The second centre was gorgeous, a lot cleaner and the staff were very cheery and seemed more content with life in general. Of course they were full and had a waiting list so I pray each night for two consecutive days to become available so we can nab a spot there. But either way I know Chloe will be taken care of at both centres, I have a very close friend that works in childcare so I know they treat those babes like their own family. Now I just need someone to look after me while I’m baby free and deliriously fumbling through life without a mini human attached to my hip. Oh my, how will I cope.

 

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“Excuse me ma’am, hope you don’t think you’re leaving me at a daycare?!”

 

 

Lonely

Lonely

I posted a blog a few weeks back sharing some of the up sides of FIFO in my opinion. Today I wanted to share the single hardest thing I experience being a FIFO family and that is the overwhelming and all-consuming feeling of loneliness.

My husband hasn’t been on his normal 2:1 rotation for nearly 6 months, he is currently in his 3rd week away with still no indication of when he will be flown home. I won’t mention his employer but just want to send out a big virtual FUCK YOU to them. They have been putting him through the ringer lately and although he wouldn’t admit it he is breaking and so am I. Apart from not having his family with him each night he works in an office alone (the company he works for is relatively small so it’s just him and one mechanic) and he stays in a unit alone not a camp so it’s not just me experiencing loneliness. And of course I have Chloe here, Brett only has pictures and the occasional FaceTime.

I have to admit that sometimes I don’t want to talk to my husband after he’s had a long day at work because I can’t stand to hear the sadness in his voice. Sadness that he gets back to an empty unit after a 12+ hour day and phones me and longs to be here with me juggling dinner prep and a sulky baby, the sound of the washing machine whirling in the background as there are no clean clothes in the house, watching The Project whilst shushing the sulky baby so I can get updated on current events and telling the dog off for the one hundredth time for licking Chloe’s face non stop. It’s a crazy time for me and sometimes I just want to press pause on life so I can catch a breath for a second but he wants nothing more than to be here amongst the craziness rather than alone in a half empty house by himself.

Chloe has been relatively content the last few weeks, a welcome change from her usual uncooperative and gremlin like self (the one that gets fed after midnight and turns into a monster, not the cute fluffy one). But I haven’t really enjoyed this time as its been overshadowed by solitude and a desire to share this amazing time with my husband. A lot of people think I don’t like being cuddled, I think it stemmed from me not liking my neck and shoulders being touched and that gave the impression I don’t like being touched at all. But I really do love a good snuggle and Chloe doesn’t really enjoy cuddles so I’m often left to embrace a pillow at night. As gross as it may sound I usually don’t wash Brett’s pillow case until the day before he returns home so I can curl up with his pillow that smells of him. I’ve been tempted to get his face printed on a pillow slip but I’m not at that level of creepiness yet.

I was always a shy person but since finishing work, becoming a mum and spending a lot of time alone I tend to open up a lot quicker when I get the opportunity to interact with other full-grown humans. I don’t get the chance often as I live quite far from a lot of my friends and babbling and squealing with Chloe doesn’t always quite cut it as a conversation. I used to cherish quiet time before I had Chloe, I worked in recruitment so I was always talking to someone so at home I enjoyed not having to talk to anyone and just be. But being in your own head for too long can be very lonely, no one to unload to when I’ve had a really shit day or confide in when I just need to let my feelings out – it all just bottles up inside. I know I could express it all via phone but the last thing Brett needs to hear is how I’ve struggled all day looking after his daughter that he hardly ever gets to see.

Some days I honestly feel like a single parent. It’s scary to think that at one time I couldn’t think of ever being without my husband but now I still don’t want to imagine it but I know I would manage. Chloe has started to say ‘mama’ knowing it means mum and that I am her mum but she still doesn’t know that ‘dada’ means dad and that hurts my heart so much. I try to show Chloe pictures of her dad as often as I can and talk about where he is and what he’s doing even though I know she doesn’t understand yet. We FaceTime when we can too but she doesn’t quite understand the concept, she is usually more excited to see her own little mug in the corner of the screen. When Brett gets home from work she is always a bit cautious but only for a few minutes, she very quickly warms up and their bond starts forming all over again which is so beautiful to see. She is definitely going to be a daddy’s girl as she grows up!

How I’m feeling right now honestly makes me want to just tell him to get his butt home, I’ll stop my crazy online shopping addiction, we’ll buy only Home Brand food and we’ll figure it out. I’ll even switch to instant coffee, it will be the ultimate sacrifice (kidding) but I’d do it to be able to cuddle with my daughter and husband each night (for those of you not yet accustomed to my humor I am not a food snoot, cheap cheap is good good). I usually find my way out of this feeling after a few days and lots of forced cuddles on Chloe, I know it’s not so easy for Brett but it won’t be forever. We’re doing this for Chloe and I’m so incredibly proud and grateful for everything Brett does for us. He is our number 1 and we miss him every day and count down the days till he is home with us again.

And a big shout out to any FIFO mammas out there with partners working away on horribly long rosters. 3 weeks isn’t that long in comparison to some crazy construction rosters out there at the moment. You’re amazing and your allowed to feel lonely, but just know your never truly alone.

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One of our pregnancy announcement pictures – we are such goofs
Lies pre baby Sami told mum-to-be Sami

Lies pre baby Sami told mum-to-be Sami

I think we all have a rough idea of what kind of parents we want to be before our children arrive. Well however you think your going to be, just forget it – everything will change. I guess it depends on what kinda baby you end up with and how well you handle each situation but every baby is different and you won’t know until your faced with each new challenge. I think it’s best to expect the unexpected.

I moved around a lot when I was young so I don’t remember that much about my childhood but I do remember that I had a pretty amazing upbringing. I only ever got ‘fake’ grounded once (mum didn’t want us hanging around a certain older boy that was turning out to be a pyromaniac so she told us to tell him we were grounded – cheers mum for helping us dodge that bullet) and I only recall ever being smacked once as my sister and I were being horrible to each other (I’m sure there were more times but this is the only time I have memory of). So all in all I think my folks did a pretty stellar job – my sister and I both have our shit together for the most part so I can only hope I’ll do as good a job as my olds did with us.

But there are already a few things that I said I would and wouldn’t do before baby Chloe arrived that have already gone right down the shitter. I know she isn’t old enough to be completely ruined or spoiled yet but there are definitely things that I naively told myself would/wouldn’t happen with my her that have turned out to be total lies;

Before baby: I’m not going to be one of those mums that stays home on Facebook all day, I’m going to get out with the baby as much as I can!

Post baby: Baha-fucking-ha! I literally couldn’t have been more naive thinking this! I was petrified to leave the house for at least 6 months. Chloe cried a lot in the beginning so I didn’t want to risk her clearing out the shopping centre with her screaming so I stayed home as much as possible, cancelled plans at any chance I could and shopped online more than I would like to admit. In hindsight I wish I hadn’t and now if I don’t get out of the house at least once every second day I start going a bit batty. Gee, if Chloe is pulling a 2007 Britney I get her out twice a day so I don’t have to endure her relentless whingeing alone. And I really don’t spend that much time on FB – I’m defs an Insta and Snapchat mumma. And praise Jesus for Woolies online shopping.

Before baby: I’ll have my baby sleep in my room with me for at least 6 months.

Post baby: 11 weeks, pack ya bags kid – I’ll see ya on the flip side! Honestly I probably would have kept her in our room longer but when she started sleeping through the night (meaning 6 hours straight or more) I figured it was as good a time as any to transition. The first time was actually an accident as I had her nap in her cot during the day and put her back in her cot after her evening feed instead of our room. It worked out great, she started sleeping longer stretches at night and I was more rested. And a rested mumma is a wonderful thing. Hubs was also stoked to get his love shack back, although there aren’t many socks on this door knob nowa days – soz love.

Before baby: I don’t want to give my baby a pacifier if I don’t have to. I’ll find other ways of soothing her.

Post baby: I remember the midwife asking if I bought a pacifier to the hospital the day after I gave birth, needless to say Chloe cried..a lot..so a dummy has been a must for my sanity. In my defence (not that I think I need to defend my parenting decisions) but it is said to relieve reflux pains due to the saliva stimulation and god knows Chloe needed some relief and so did my bleeding ears. She still cries a lot and is in the ‘whiney as fuck most of the day’ stage (aka the 0 – adolescent stage) so we still keep a few on hand to plug her squeal hole if needed. Also currently used as a sleep aid which I’m not stoked about but if she’s sleeping then I don’t care a fuck really.

Before baby: I won’t baby proof, I’ll teach her what she can’t touch in the house.

Post baby: Wow, pre-baby Sami was a damn fool! I know some people can do this successfully but me, well I’m just not patient enough. Saying ‘no no, we don’t play with the remotes’ or ‘no no, you can’t play in that draw’ 1 million times a day is just not in my tolerance realm. But I’m also a bit OCD and still haven’t fully accepted that my house is overrun by baby toys and that the grown up things need to be moved or it may be broken (RIP my gorgeous T2 teapot, you were beautiful and will be dearly missed) so I’m gradually putting things away as the little invader becomes interested in them.

Before baby: I’ll keep my pre pregnancy clothes, I’ll fit into them again. I’ll have plenty of time to exercise. (Not parenting related but a lie none the less)

Post baby: I’m currently sitting on the couch with chocolate covered pretzels watching Sister Wives while Chloe is napping. Exercise is the last thing on my mind after the washing I should be folding and vacuuming the floor that resembles a minefield of cat fur and discarded Cheerios. It’s a working progress, nuff said.

Before baby: I’ll make my own baby food, buying the Thermomix was totally worth it.

Post baby: For my husband’s sake the Thermo was absolutely a good investment! I’m just lazy AF and totes not motivated to get my ass in the kitchen for more than 15 min (correction: Chloe is clingy AF and won’t let me be in the kitchen for more than 15 min). I think this is one lie that most expecting mums tell themselves but honestly I’ll give the kid anything if it means she’s eating something. Mini jatz and cream cheese it is kiddo! I do make some of my own baby food but spoon-feeding is unacceptable most days for queen C and the floor generally ends up with more food than her belly so sometimes easy finger foods are just less stress.

I know that there will be many more parenting style changes to come as Chloe grows, like letting her watch toons on the iPad when we’re out for dinner or having her on a baby harness (Brett is totally against both of these at the moment) but as long as she is happy, healthy and not burning the house down or beating other children up then I’ll consider it a win.

Happy parenting peeps.

© Jan Weir