Win an InfaCare Baby Bathtime Hamper!

Well it’s another dreary January Monday evening, so it must be Giveaway time!

This week I have teamed up with the popular baby brand InfaCare , to giveaway  a gorgeous baby bath time hamper which includes:

  • 2 bottles of InfaCare Baby Bath,
  • 2 bottles of InfaCare Night Time Bath,
  • 2  fluffy flannels!

It’s the perfect time of year for snuggling up and enjoying bath time (or staying behind the shower screen as I have to do, thanks to my highly enthusiastic little bathers…)

InfaCare comes recommended by hospital midwives and healthcare professionals to cleanse and protect your child’s skin. -What more could you want…

About InfaCare

“Both formulas are clinically tested and Ph balanced, creating natural levels of Acidity and Alkalinity in skin and hair. Reassuringly, each is designed to prevent irritation, helping with allergies in the process.

Recently launched, Night-time Baby Bath is now championed by mums across the country; up to 70% hailing it ‘ideal’ for their bedtime procedure.

Not only does it look great the product performs too. You don’t need much for it to produce masses of long-lasting bubbles, perfect for your little one to have fun with.

A gentle, powdery and oriental fragrance is sure to relax, easing your tots first into bed and then off to sleep.”

To win simply follow this link to my facebook page where you can Like, Share & Comment to be entered!

Best of luck!


xx

 

10 times a new Muma & a Fresher were the exact same.

I was reminded today by Grimmy off of Radio 1 DJ ledgeness, that it is Fresher time.  So, there I am driving toddlermonster to her swim lesson, my arm contorted in eye watering angles whilst I pass her various lunch offerings,  I cast my mind back to 13 whole Septembers ago and vaguely recollected a ‘Month of Blur’ (not the band). My mind then jumped to the only other time that I have endured a Month of Blur: The newborn days.

I thought I might demonstrate how actually, being a Fresher is the exact same as being a new Muma… Just you wait, Girls, you’ll be amazed:

1.Being awake in the early hours, to the thud of the base, or the squeal of a non-latching      newborn. Exact same thing.

2. Surviving on nothing but a packet of biscuits and a Twix ALL.DAY.

3.The suggestion that you left the house before lunchtime is met with hysterical laughter.

4. Jeremy Kyle is beginning to feel like an old friend, his gambling past, tragic ‘my  brother used to…’ stories, and lie detector suspense has kept you faithful at 9.25am.

5. You make frequent trips to the Dr’s for complaints you never knew existed, in areas you really rather wish had been left alone.

6. Cheesy pasta is a treat; Hot food, cooked in a saucepan.

7. Awkward ‘making new friends’ moments. Eye contact, going in for the kill: the SU or baby massage class. Exact same thing.

8. Surviving on minimal casheesh, student loan v’s mat leave allowance. Its a close call. Toppers should definitely offer a maternity leave 10% discount, students are spoilt.

9. Learning a whole load of new stuff. Text books / baby manuals coming out of your ears.

10. New timetable. Except the one major difference here is that ‘FREE PERIOD’ does not feature in the Newborn version. Almost, the-exact-same-thing.

So there we have it, those Freshers aren’t going to feel so darn rocking cocking now are they…

Mumas, as always, nailing life.

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Cash splashing baby must-not-haves

There is SO much baby crap out there, all gleaming and shiny just waiting for unsuspecting adoring (petrified) new parents to splash their cash on. 

Sharing is caring, and with this in mind I thought I’d divulge our top 5 parenting purchase nightmares with you… It’s not pretty.

1)A rocking crib.


What a seriously bonkers invention.

This at No.1 because it is without doubt the most rookie of all the bad purchases we made as parents in-waiting. The helpful teen at ‘Babies R us’ swore blind a rocking crib was a new born essential (I’m sure she knew best). Jolly good; we’ll have one of those then.

The first time I attempted to put the baby-that-did-not-sleep into the rocking crib proved that this ‘essential’ was in fact the polar opposite.

Into the crib she went milk-drunk. I looked just like a member of bomb squad edging nearer and nearer to the crib with the armed device, armed with this sleeping new born. One. False. Move… of course the rocking crib did just that– it bloody rocked all over the place. Bam and that was it: baby rave time, mummy cry time.

We tried it a few more times before we chopped it up and used it to re-board our fireplace


2) Gro-Clock


Desperate times call for desperate measures. And we were just that. Our 2 year old had never slept through the night, and never in her own bed. We were trying everything and anything to try and achieve just one night’s sleep before baby No.2 made her appearance.

Make way for The Gro-Clock. Promising that toddlers will obey its creepy sun face.

The Gro clock should come with a warning that you will only be able to figure out how to program the bloody thing if you have the IQ of a frigging genius. I don’t.

It is not simple to use. Even less simple if you are heavily pregnant, sleep deprived and quite literally a Muma on the Edge. When we eventually did get it working our daughter LAUGHED at it. We basically spent £25 on a night light.

Fu*k you Gro clock.

 3) Skirts n headbands: Baby Accessory Gate


Ok let’s get this straight-

Skirts: They ride up. They look awkward. They show off the nappy to its optimum. And it looks SO uncomfortable.

Headbands: I tried, I really did; to dress up my baby’s wispy bald head. I was always paranoid the gypsy-style headbands would slip down and we’d have a horrific ‘strangled’ situation on our hands. More often than not she would rip it off her head and chuck it overboard. (She clearly has more taste than I do!)

Why did I bother?!

Baby No.2 escaped the wannabe Doll phase, onesies forever.

 

4) Holiday with a baby


(Ok this isn’t strictly an ‘item’ but I just felt I couldn’t leave it out of this Rookie list.)

Just why?! If it isn’t hard enough to look after a sub-1 human at home with the entire contents of Mothercare at your fingertips, how do we convince ourselves that a holiday will ever be just that?!

We were so lucky to go away with my parents and sisters when Darcie was 3 months old. A ratio of 7:1 is the ONLY way I would ever recommend a holiday with a baby.

The heat was too hot for her, the cot was too netted for her, the pool was too cold for her, the air was too airy for her, she wouldn’t sleep OR she only wanted to sleep.

How is that a holiday?! That’s just normal life thrown in with a touch of nightmare.

 5) The baby sling


It was awkward. I swore. The baby cried. We gave up: Back to ebay it went.

I have seen serene ‘Baby Carriers’ in the real so it must be possible to front tie, back tie, strap up and pop the bambino in. I however found it impossible: frustrating and confusing in equal measure, and frankly a complete and utter bloody mystery.

I tried again and again to get to grips with Slinging. I tried different brands with ties, & knots to clips & Velcro. I ended up looking like id been subjected to Mummification; Wrapped up in endless cloth with a screaming baby hanging out of the front of me.Bugaboo I salute you.

So come on- spill the beans on your useless baby impulse buys…!!???? 

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Jennifer, you legend.

At last: She has spoken.

Jennifer. Jen. Rachel has come right out and said what has been on the tip of the tongues of so many successful woman in the spotlight who just so happen to be outright awesome without *whispers* Being a Mother. Shock horror.

I love Jen’s article, it’s honest, thought provoking and kicks some serious female butt. Read it in full here.

Here are my highlights:

“…This past month in particular has illuminated for me how much we define a woman’s value based on her marital and maternal status…Here’s where I come out on this topic: we are complete with or without a mate, with or without a child…We don’t need to be married or mothers to be complete. We get to determine our own “happily ever after” for ourselves.”

It’s a crying shame that Theresa May couldn’t produce a similar response to Andrea Leasom’s ghastly attempt to get the edge over her opponent this weekend, based on her reproduction ‘achievements’.

I seem to remember a time right after school, probably through to my mid-20’s when a pregnancy was announced it was an ‘OH MY GOD THEY’RE PREGNANT’ moment. We seemed too young to have babies and it was almost a scandal that you would dare to reproduce. I’m now the other side of that (weeps), and this other side is worse. Much worse. Because this other side questions why a woman may not have borne a crying sh*tting machine yet.

Why is this? Why do we as a society, pivot a female’s success around the presence of a child? I feel lucky, not successful, to have 2 children. I certainly wouldn’t measure my success or suitability for a job based on the fact that I have children.

I wonder if Jenifer Aniston’s words will actually hit home to the Paparazzi and magazine bosses? (who might actually be fully grown women without children! IMAGINE!).

 Sadly I think her statement will fall on deaf ears. Inevitably, lining the newsagent’s shelves will continue be glossy post-lunch stomachs belonging to the A-Z listers, complete with speculation over the presence of a bambino within.

All the while we keep buying the Mags or sharing the articles and spreading the hype, they will keep dishing it.

It’s pretty sad when you think about it.

It’s a big day for Women today, a great day. Our 2nd female Prime Minister EVER will take up the reins and is set to be appointing top cabinet roles to some fabulous women. I know their gender is neither here nor there as long as they are the right people for the jobs, but I can’t help doing a little fist pump for Girl Power today.

Mummuddlingthrough

Stay-At-Home-Muma or Working Muma? My choice…

As sensitive a subject as Breast verses Bottle; I’m half wincing even beginning this blogpost. The time old argument, or rather ‘discussion point’ of Working Muma V’s Stay at Home Muma seems to rage on. Article after article is written on the subject, all contradicting the last, all claiming to be the latest research and written either by Earth Mother herself wrapped in her tie dye gently rocking back and forth on a rush matt with a toddler feeding from her, or City slicker Muma: louboutins- check!

These two extremes don’t really cater for The Lidl Muma – and by that, I mean me! What’s right for the Muma that’s been educated reasonably well?

I was fortunate enough to go to a very academic school, we were all aboard the conveyor belt of GCSE’S, AS levels, A levels, and then on to University as a standard. Utter scandal ensued should you have deviated from this, the very thought of ‘vocational course’ was placed next to shelf stacker as an option. From university I went on to work in recruitment mostly: I’m basically very gobby which helps in a sales environment!

I remember the day I finished work and begun my journey in to MatLeave like it was yesterday: An over indulgent lunch with my colleagues, well friends actually; I spent 50 hours a week with these people! Anyway I bid them all adios with armfuls of Pink goodies, vowing to return in a years time…

However, I just couldn’t tear myself away from my Darcie shaped bundle. I even went to a keeping in touch day, shame it was a financial planning meeting that had me wishing I could bolt out of the door. My brain felt like mush, did I get the train through to Paris because I’m clearly not speaking the same language anymore. That evening I broke the news to The Hubster that I just couldn’t go back to work and asked if we could financially survive.

If I’m totally honest I haven’t looked back since I waddled out of the office door ready to embrace Mumahood. Don’t get me wrong, there have been been moments where I have thought how lovely it would be to have a lunch break, especially when I have been on an involuntary starvation day due to a colicy baby, or a loo break sometimes, ALONE. And yes I have yearned to have a quick browse around the shops on late-night Thursdays after work on more than one occasion. But, and here’s the big but, my bottom line and my raison d’etre: I don’t want to miss out!

I don’t want to be the one to miss the first step, or first word – which would have been nice to be Muma just once: Dada got that, twice. It’s the more mundane everyday stuff that makes you the constant: toddler tripped up and it was me that comforted her, toddler cuts another tooth and needs more cuddles, toddler whacks victim for custard cream at playgroup, – Hell, Toddler has morphed into ToddlerMonster and chucks ‘treasure’ down the loo! I want to be the observer, the comforter, the disciplinarian, and not miss a beat.

However, in my quest to Nurture have I thrown away a great education and a career to boot? Is it realistically possible for me to return to work and still not miss a single thing? Well, of course not because it’s physically impossible to be in two places at once. It doesn’t seem fair that nature has given women a heart wrenching choice to make: follow your career, aspirations and dreams that you may have worked long and hard to build, before children. Or park it. Can a happy medium be reached or do you just end up not achieving either terribly well?

The responsibility I feel as a Stay At Home Muma to show my girls that women are invaluable to the work place is huge, I’m not leading by example here at all. I feel I must try to convince them that Muma is more than just a cleaner / cook / driver / occasional fair weather gardener. I don’t want them assuming that just because Muma doesn’t work I don’t have a brain and can’t answer their billions of critical questions – I can work Wikipedia just as well as the next Muma thanks. So with this in mind I’m now an upstanding member of the Nursery PTA and a wannabe Blogger, the fact that Darcie has begun referring to me as Muma On The Edge is frankly frightening.

This is a topic really close to my heart; I do strongly believe that every Muma strives to do the very best they can for their babies, its nature’s way. There is no perfect way to bring up our babies, just your way. And my god I hope I don’t fuck this up…