A friend pointed out the following article,'Children, a Bundle of Joy?':
http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/features/childre%20n-a-bundle-of-joy-2017935.html
and it got me thinking ( and blogging).
I love my kids loads but for the highly strung, like myself, it is quite stressful as toddlers do run you ragged. However nice the kids are, and of course ours are taught their manners, respect for others etc., at the end of the day they are inquisitive little monkeys who will always be found poking something or eating something just to see what happens.
We have some friends whose kids are kept on such a tight leash (metaphorically!) that they hardly have an opportunity to be kids. But allowing them to be kids brings in unpredictability, which some parents don't cope well with. I guess it is about striking the balance.
Yes, sometimes I miss my Caribbean holidays. I definitely miss having the money to afford them! I miss having lazy weekends because me and F's tag-team approach to lie-ins isn't really the same. I miss being to be spontaneous and just go out at the drop of a hat, although we are very lucky that we have my ultra-ace Mum who kindly does allow us to have some semblance of a social life.
Having said this the new life is different, that difference does not have to be a negative variance. It is fulfilling to guide little people grow to their potential. Although the responsibility not to break them is anxiety-inducing, raising children is rewarding.
Nothing beats the last snuggles at night and the first excited hugs in the morning (although perhaps if they could be 2 hours later :). Seeing your child learn to walk and talk and be independent is endlessly fascinating. I hope that as they grow my girls will remain close friends with each other and me.
As an adult I find being part of a close family very rewarding. Although I know there are times when she cheerfully could have killed me during my childhood/adolescence, I now have a very close relationship with my Mum - I value her opinion and experience on all sorts of things, miss her if I don't talk to her or see her most days and I hope my kids will feel the same about me.
So, am I happier or less happy with kids? I would say on balance that I am happier with my life now which has a number of things bound up in it - man I love, kids I love, house I love, job I love, close extended family I love.
Discuss...
Showing posts with label parenthood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenthood. Show all posts
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Looking At It, Not Seeing It
So, the twenty week scan...
We feel like old hands at this scan business now. This is the sixth we've had, including those with Olivia. They don't hold many fears really. The 20 week scan is AKA 'the anatomy scan'; where they check all the bits are there and developing normally; brain, face, spine, heart, stomach, bowel, kidneys and limbs. Given we've had the nuchal scan at the Fetal Medicine Centre, we're very confident that everything is okay. The baby is also kicking on a regular basis now - evening disco sessions are the norm - and this is another sign things are fine. Of course, it is still possible that something could go wrong.
The other thing they do at the 20 week scan is tell you - if you want to know - the sex of your baby. Well, we've already been given a good indication of what it is, so this isn't as exciting as maybe it could be.
We made a decision to bring Olivia along to the hospital with us. The appointment was at 10:35, which wasn't ideal as she's usually a bit tired and ready for her morning nap at about that sort of time, but we figured it shouldn't take too long and would be okay.
When we arrived at the car park, it was rather full and I had to drop K___ and Olivia and search for a space elsewhere. By the time I got in there, we barely had a couple of minutes before we got called. K___ lay down on the examination couch and exposed her belly ready for the operator to squirt on the jelly. I had Olivia out of her buggy and sitting on my lap. I pointed out the monitor and explained how she would be able to see a picture of 'mummy's baby' on the screen. It's difficult to know exactly how much she takes in. Sometimes she can follow reasonably complex instructions, or, by looking at something you've mentioned, indicate she understands words. We say to her, 'Where's Mummy's baby..?' and she'll lift K___'s top to show her tummy and pat it, but what actual understanding she has of what she's doing is debatable. I suspect not much. Something like the scan itself is a very abstract concept to grasp, and she seemed rather indifferent, it has to be said.
Actually, call it indifferent and fidgety. By this point, the operator had started the scan, and there was a picture on the monitor. I pointed at it and said to Olivia, 'There's Mummy's baby!', and for a few seconds she seemed interested. The quality of the scans seems to have improved significantly since Olivia's time. Either that, or the scanner at Southend hospital was pretty poor. Now, you can see an awful lot of information. Most clearly, I remember the clarity with which we could see the ribcage and the tiny toes of the baby's feet.
Unfortunately, the baby wasn't co-operating in terms of how it was lying, making it difficult for the operator to get some of the measurements she wanted. She had the head measurements, and was happy they accorded with the dates, and there were the right number of limbs but it wasn't possible to see all of the digits unless the baby moved, something it seemed singularly disinclined to do.
Meanwhile, Olivia kept arching her back so that I was having a hard time keeping her on my lap. If you've never fought a toddler that doesn't want to be held, you may be imagining that it would be quite easy to control them. No so. They're surprisingly strong and you have to be very careful that if you're attempting to restrain them, you don't accidentally bash them in the process. Anyway, after a few minutes fighting, I ended up putting her down, and she promptly went off and started opening the bins full of medical waste (just gloves and the like, not hypodermic needles) and generally being a bit of a handful.
And so, on to what is - bearing in mind we weren't greatly worried that there might be anything wrong - arguably the most interesting thing you find out... the sex! Now, we already think we know what it is, because when we went for the Nuchal, the scan operator had a look. We know it's not 100% guaranteed, but nevertheless, we're pretty certain we know the sex.
'That's right between the legs there,' said the operator. It has to be said that the angle made it a little difficult to make sense of what we were seeing. At one point I said, 'Isn't that...?' only to be told I was miles away from where I should have been looking.
'Well,' said the operator, 'I'm pretty certain it's a little girl.'
What?! A girl? No, it's a boy. We've been told it's a boy...
'Well, it's not one hundred percent certain, but I can see three white lines and that usually means a girl.'
I honestly have no preference what sex the baby is, but it was a bit of a curve ball. We had got used to the idea it was a boy. We'd even been calling it a boy's name and now we've got to adjust. Olivia, on the other hand, doesn't really seem bothered.
We feel like old hands at this scan business now. This is the sixth we've had, including those with Olivia. They don't hold many fears really. The 20 week scan is AKA 'the anatomy scan'; where they check all the bits are there and developing normally; brain, face, spine, heart, stomach, bowel, kidneys and limbs. Given we've had the nuchal scan at the Fetal Medicine Centre, we're very confident that everything is okay. The baby is also kicking on a regular basis now - evening disco sessions are the norm - and this is another sign things are fine. Of course, it is still possible that something could go wrong.
The other thing they do at the 20 week scan is tell you - if you want to know - the sex of your baby. Well, we've already been given a good indication of what it is, so this isn't as exciting as maybe it could be.
We made a decision to bring Olivia along to the hospital with us. The appointment was at 10:35, which wasn't ideal as she's usually a bit tired and ready for her morning nap at about that sort of time, but we figured it shouldn't take too long and would be okay.
When we arrived at the car park, it was rather full and I had to drop K___ and Olivia and search for a space elsewhere. By the time I got in there, we barely had a couple of minutes before we got called. K___ lay down on the examination couch and exposed her belly ready for the operator to squirt on the jelly. I had Olivia out of her buggy and sitting on my lap. I pointed out the monitor and explained how she would be able to see a picture of 'mummy's baby' on the screen. It's difficult to know exactly how much she takes in. Sometimes she can follow reasonably complex instructions, or, by looking at something you've mentioned, indicate she understands words. We say to her, 'Where's Mummy's baby..?' and she'll lift K___'s top to show her tummy and pat it, but what actual understanding she has of what she's doing is debatable. I suspect not much. Something like the scan itself is a very abstract concept to grasp, and she seemed rather indifferent, it has to be said.
Actually, call it indifferent and fidgety. By this point, the operator had started the scan, and there was a picture on the monitor. I pointed at it and said to Olivia, 'There's Mummy's baby!', and for a few seconds she seemed interested. The quality of the scans seems to have improved significantly since Olivia's time. Either that, or the scanner at Southend hospital was pretty poor. Now, you can see an awful lot of information. Most clearly, I remember the clarity with which we could see the ribcage and the tiny toes of the baby's feet.
Unfortunately, the baby wasn't co-operating in terms of how it was lying, making it difficult for the operator to get some of the measurements she wanted. She had the head measurements, and was happy they accorded with the dates, and there were the right number of limbs but it wasn't possible to see all of the digits unless the baby moved, something it seemed singularly disinclined to do.
Meanwhile, Olivia kept arching her back so that I was having a hard time keeping her on my lap. If you've never fought a toddler that doesn't want to be held, you may be imagining that it would be quite easy to control them. No so. They're surprisingly strong and you have to be very careful that if you're attempting to restrain them, you don't accidentally bash them in the process. Anyway, after a few minutes fighting, I ended up putting her down, and she promptly went off and started opening the bins full of medical waste (just gloves and the like, not hypodermic needles) and generally being a bit of a handful.
And so, on to what is - bearing in mind we weren't greatly worried that there might be anything wrong - arguably the most interesting thing you find out... the sex! Now, we already think we know what it is, because when we went for the Nuchal, the scan operator had a look. We know it's not 100% guaranteed, but nevertheless, we're pretty certain we know the sex.
'That's right between the legs there,' said the operator. It has to be said that the angle made it a little difficult to make sense of what we were seeing. At one point I said, 'Isn't that...?' only to be told I was miles away from where I should have been looking.
'Well,' said the operator, 'I'm pretty certain it's a little girl.'
What?! A girl? No, it's a boy. We've been told it's a boy...
'Well, it's not one hundred percent certain, but I can see three white lines and that usually means a girl.'
I honestly have no preference what sex the baby is, but it was a bit of a curve ball. We had got used to the idea it was a boy. We'd even been calling it a boy's name and now we've got to adjust. Olivia, on the other hand, doesn't really seem bothered.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Somewhere Else
A bit of a catch-up post here... We've been insanely busy of late so that's why we've not posted for so long*, but let's see if I can remember everything monumental.
Let's see now... Ah yes...
Although we'd been up there the previous week, we were back in Lincolnshire again. It was a little strange, since her parents had gone off to Italy. So, why were we there? Well, there was a position open at the local college and K___ was going for interview. K___ had found it by pure chance, but it looked like something that would suit her down to the ground. Now, K___ is a bit of a worrier. I'm not. No, actually, I am, but I internalise everything. K___ is an 'extroverted stresser', which means that everyone knows she's stressed. The night before I had to ask her test questions and listen to her proposed responses for a couple of hours. K___ is one of those people who worries that they've not done enough revision when actually, they've had their head in a book from dawn until dusk for the past six months despite the fact the test is entirely inconsequential. At 1.45 pm the next day, she went off for the real thing, leaving Olivia and me alone in her parents house.
The next hour and a bit passed slowly, by Olivia and I kept ourselves entertained with a game of 'How long can you stay on your front before you start crying?' I won; she was crap and couldn't do it for more than a couple of minutes without bawling. I am better than a six month old baby.
K___ returned and said it had gone well. In fact it had gone very well, as we found out a little bit later when they phoned to speak to her and not only offered her the job she'd gone for, but wanted her to take on the responsibility for an even higher paid position that K___ hadn't felt she was sufficiently qualified to apply for. They'd been interviewing for this other position too, but felt K___ could do both combined better than any of the other candidates! The job is an amazing opportunity for K___ and it's a testiment to her professionalism and abilities that she's been offered it.
There's only one small thing about getting a job in Lincolnshire. It's quite hard to get to if you live 120 miles away. I wonder how we'll get round that..?
Well, obviously enough a move is on the cards. More on that soon...
With England in the middle of the worst floods in over a kazillion years, it's not exactly been a Summer worth having, and I'm only talking from the selfish perspective of 'it's a bit damp out', not 'arse; my entire house is three feet deep in muddy sewer water'. One highlight of every year is a BBQ organised by Lucy Glitter who comments on this blog from time to time. It's a good time for all of our geographically-remote Marillion-related friends to get together in one place and have a knees-up. Not a Cockney knees-up, mind; there's no Chas and Dave.
* Plus we've got on Facebook at last, and playing online Scrabble with mulitple people sucks time like you wouldn't believe...
Friday, July 06, 2007
It Makes You Suffer and It Makes You Cry , But It's All Worthwhile
Earlier this week I was speaking at a conference. Yes, I am still on maternity leave, but the project I was speaking about had been my baby for 18 months before I had Olivia so I wanted to see it through. Anyway, I was busy with preparations for my presentation and also had my sister staying as she was exhibiting some of her design work in London, so I hadn't really kept in touch with all my usual reading.
Yesterday morning I sat down to catch up with what has been going on in the bloggosphere and read something that deeply affected me. It was the story of a poor little boy who died tragically early in the sort of accident which no one could predict but which just makes you feel the injustice of life. When you put your child down for an afternoon nap it never enters your mind that it could be the last time you will see them alive.
As I put Olivia down in her cot yesterday afternoon I lay next to her on my bed,stroked her peachy cheek as she slept and cried. I cried tears for that poor little boy in a different country, who I had never met, and tears of fear. It reminded me just how hard loving people is. I also felt so lucky as I stoked the face of that beautiful girl and it made me cherish every second with her. I'm not a religious person but the family of that sweet boy are in my thoughts.
Being a parent is hard. The magazine stories about unusual illnesses, which I used to read with interest and then turn the page, now scare me. Even though they are mostly rare occurences they remind me of all the thousands of things that can go wrong. Worst though seems to be the accidents of everyday life where there is little warning or opportunity to say goodbye.
There is an advertising campaign on TV at the moment, and advertising obviously doesn't really work as I cannot remember what the product is but I do remember the advert. A little boy jumps on his bed and we pan upwards to see that his mother has stuck a pillow to the ceiling above his head. We move on to a birthday party where a child blows out their candles with the mother standing by with a fire extinguisher ... I get the message ... We cannot wrap our children up in cotton wool. We have to let them be children and do the sorts of things that children do and just keep them as safe as we can. We cannot possibly foresee or prevent all the things that can go wrong but we have to focus on celebrating every day of our lives and every second we spend with our children.
Being a parent IS hard, the hardest thing I have ever done, but it is also the most rewarding thing I have ever done. I am truly blessed.
Yesterday morning I sat down to catch up with what has been going on in the bloggosphere and read something that deeply affected me. It was the story of a poor little boy who died tragically early in the sort of accident which no one could predict but which just makes you feel the injustice of life. When you put your child down for an afternoon nap it never enters your mind that it could be the last time you will see them alive.
As I put Olivia down in her cot yesterday afternoon I lay next to her on my bed,stroked her peachy cheek as she slept and cried. I cried tears for that poor little boy in a different country, who I had never met, and tears of fear. It reminded me just how hard loving people is. I also felt so lucky as I stoked the face of that beautiful girl and it made me cherish every second with her. I'm not a religious person but the family of that sweet boy are in my thoughts.
Being a parent is hard. The magazine stories about unusual illnesses, which I used to read with interest and then turn the page, now scare me. Even though they are mostly rare occurences they remind me of all the thousands of things that can go wrong. Worst though seems to be the accidents of everyday life where there is little warning or opportunity to say goodbye.
There is an advertising campaign on TV at the moment, and advertising obviously doesn't really work as I cannot remember what the product is but I do remember the advert. A little boy jumps on his bed and we pan upwards to see that his mother has stuck a pillow to the ceiling above his head. We move on to a birthday party where a child blows out their candles with the mother standing by with a fire extinguisher ... I get the message ... We cannot wrap our children up in cotton wool. We have to let them be children and do the sorts of things that children do and just keep them as safe as we can. We cannot possibly foresee or prevent all the things that can go wrong but we have to focus on celebrating every day of our lives and every second we spend with our children.
Being a parent IS hard, the hardest thing I have ever done, but it is also the most rewarding thing I have ever done. I am truly blessed.
Sunday, March 25, 2007
Have You Ever Met a Lady, Screaming Angst Potential?
This weekend while F_ was playing music with his band me and Olivia went off to spend time with some of the band WAGs, including my best friend L. Olivia was on top form and behaved very well. When spending time with the child free, especially if they intend to have children at some point, it is always good if she is well behaved as I am aware of not wanting to either put people off or have them patting themselves on the back for not having their own screaming bundle of joy :) We had a civilised lunch, during which Olivia slept soundly in her buggy and she then spent the afternoon playing to her admiring audience and napping in her 'wobble chair' (our name for her vibrating seat). In the evening once she was safely tucked into her moses backet the grown ups nibbled on Marks and Spencer food for the lazy and watched 'The Devil Wears Prada' while enjoying a 'medicinal' glass of wine. It was nice to know that life can continue very much as it ever was even now we have a child.
Here is Miss Olivia enjoying her time at nice Auntie L_'s house.
Having been on such good form all weekend she has decided to be in a big grump now she is home and is having a bit of a grizzle at the moment.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
I Feel So Strange What's Wrong With Me?
Since we have had Olivia, I realise how difficult life with a buggy can be. Some shops have become totally off-limits because the hassle of steps, heavy doors or narrow aisles. I am amazed that now that they have those cool double-decker buggies for two children that people still have traditional side-by-side double buggies; I find it difficult to get my single buggy in some shops.
You become persona-non-grata in many restaurants and cafes. My friend S_ and I recently went out for lunch to a local restaurant with Olivia and her youngest child, baby G_. When we got there the place was empty but unfortunately we walked in at the same time as another pair of mothers with prams and I think they thought they were going to be inundated with babies. Pretty much as soon as we sat down we got the hard sell about the prams - did they fold down - yes - but the babies were in them and I generally use both hands to eat!!! This was 11.30am on a Monday lunchtime and the place remained empty throughout our visit - by the time we left at 1pm there was us, the other two mums and one other table of four. They were by no means expecting a rush of people but still felt obliged to point out to us that we would have to do something with the prams if it got busy. I think they did realise that they had over done it a bit as they then started fussing around asking us if it was warm enough for the babies and offering to put the heating up. I don't think we will be going there again in a hurry.
Some places go so far as to put signs up. It is phrased as 'sorry, no buggies or prams allowed' but you have to wonder if they aren't just trying to make it hard to bring a buggy because they don't want babies. When we were all pregnant, the NCT girls used to visit a certain local coffee shop but that is now a no-go area as they do not allow prams. Even places which don't mind babies are logistically impossible to access as there is nowhere to put a buggy. Last week we went somewhere that is baby friendly , with changing facilities with free nappies etc. but there is just no space to put more than about 2 buggies. We started off outside on the patio and when it turned out to be too cold for the babies, they pushed together some tables inside and the six of us were all in a line facing a wall and didn't end up eating lunch as we had to leave the buggies outside and hold the babies on our laps!!! We end up going somewhere that sells really mediocre food and drinks just because it has a baby room with plenty of space for the prams and also allows breastfeeding (don't even get me started on that).
The other option is to leave the buggy outside. Now, maybe I am uptight, but I don't feel comfortable leaving my buggy out in the street while I take my baby inside. There isn't anything else I own worth several hundreds of pounds which I would leave out in the rain to get stolen. Baby-oriented places such as clinics will lend buggy locks but most places do not.
When you don't have kids, you notice people pushing buggies but you never really think about the logistics of the whole thing. You also realise how inaccessible a lot of the world must be to people who use wheelchairs who have even more lmited options of where to go and how to get there.
You become persona-non-grata in many restaurants and cafes. My friend S_ and I recently went out for lunch to a local restaurant with Olivia and her youngest child, baby G_. When we got there the place was empty but unfortunately we walked in at the same time as another pair of mothers with prams and I think they thought they were going to be inundated with babies. Pretty much as soon as we sat down we got the hard sell about the prams - did they fold down - yes - but the babies were in them and I generally use both hands to eat!!! This was 11.30am on a Monday lunchtime and the place remained empty throughout our visit - by the time we left at 1pm there was us, the other two mums and one other table of four. They were by no means expecting a rush of people but still felt obliged to point out to us that we would have to do something with the prams if it got busy. I think they did realise that they had over done it a bit as they then started fussing around asking us if it was warm enough for the babies and offering to put the heating up. I don't think we will be going there again in a hurry.
Some places go so far as to put signs up. It is phrased as 'sorry, no buggies or prams allowed' but you have to wonder if they aren't just trying to make it hard to bring a buggy because they don't want babies. When we were all pregnant, the NCT girls used to visit a certain local coffee shop but that is now a no-go area as they do not allow prams. Even places which don't mind babies are logistically impossible to access as there is nowhere to put a buggy. Last week we went somewhere that is baby friendly , with changing facilities with free nappies etc. but there is just no space to put more than about 2 buggies. We started off outside on the patio and when it turned out to be too cold for the babies, they pushed together some tables inside and the six of us were all in a line facing a wall and didn't end up eating lunch as we had to leave the buggies outside and hold the babies on our laps!!! We end up going somewhere that sells really mediocre food and drinks just because it has a baby room with plenty of space for the prams and also allows breastfeeding (don't even get me started on that).
The other option is to leave the buggy outside. Now, maybe I am uptight, but I don't feel comfortable leaving my buggy out in the street while I take my baby inside. There isn't anything else I own worth several hundreds of pounds which I would leave out in the rain to get stolen. Baby-oriented places such as clinics will lend buggy locks but most places do not.
When you don't have kids, you notice people pushing buggies but you never really think about the logistics of the whole thing. You also realise how inaccessible a lot of the world must be to people who use wheelchairs who have even more lmited options of where to go and how to get there.
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