Just when you think it's getting easier...

Well I've been trying to get round to writing a new entry for this blog for the last 3 weeks, but it's been a hectic time and on the odd occasion that I have had a quiet couple of hours I've either just crashed on the sofa or been forced to catch up on boring things like paying bills and sorting out paperwork etc!

But tonight I'm finally getting round to it. I should be off to bed really, I'm shattered, but I'm always shattered so I can't keep using that as an excuse otherwise I'll never write anything again! So now that both kiddlywinks are settled in bed (both naked as the day they were born because it's so unbelievably hot, October and we're all perspiring under the strain of a tropical climate!). Hence why I'm still up really, I can't sleep in this sticky heat.

I couldn't decide at first what to write my next blog on, but the last 3 weeks have been filled with ups and downs and these really are the things that this blog should be focusing on. One moment things feel like they're really on the up and life is becoming less stressful and easier...and then BAM, all of a sudden I'm stood in a shopping centre holding a screaming toddler over my shoulder and 5 bags of shopping in the other hand whilst chasing my other out of control child towards the busy entrance/exit where surely she would be lost forever in the throng of people (clips of missing people cases flooding my chaotic thought patterns in a second as I hurtled myself, my shopping and my screaming child towards the last known sighting of my first born) only for her to then appear out of nowhere, get right under my feet and trip me up. Down with an embarressing thump came me, the shopping and my screaming child whilst the runaway child did what she does best...ran away!

At times like these the only thing that gives me strength is thinking about getting home to the security of my house and my fenced in garden where the kids can't escape and everything's safe and if they tantrum and shout baby obscenities at me there's no one to feel embarrassed in front of. My children have no sense of social etiquette, and I therefore feel like a failing mother on every hectic outing with them as it is my job to teach them how to behave appropriately in public. Although in fairness they are only 1 and 3 and so I don't think social awareness is top of their priorities at the moment...unlike their mummy's.

Oh yes it's all fun whilst they're on them, but try gettin them off the blasted things!

There's been quite afew occasions over the last 3 weeks though where everything felt like it was getting more bearable, and like going out was actually becoming easier with the kids. The outing to Totally Ape, for example, with the Ethan Monster was brilliant! I went and met up with a friend and her 2 children at the stupendously awesome children's soft play centre in Old Colwyn, and we stayed for nearly 5 hours! Ethan was on his best behaviour and played with the other children really well, and I sat and drank numerous cups of coffee (whilst they were still hot for a change) and actually maintained a coherent conversation without having to dash off after my child every 2 minutes. I felt brilliant that day, like everything was getting better. I took my sleepy child home whilst grinning from ear to ear reeling off this small achievement.

Where me, my friend and my lovely mum sat and chatted at Totally Ape

Whilst Ethan played

And then conked out when we got home!

But then other occasions remind me that we're not quite there yet. For example, I organised a buggy walk with afew other mums whilst Megan was in school, so it was just me and Ethan. The walk was lovely and Ethan was very well behaved in the buggy, possibly abit awestruck by the other mums and babies, and I was actually able to have a chat and a laugh with the other mums as we strolled along the promenade towards Rhos-on-Sea. Everything was still calm and relaxed as we entered a little cafe for a sit down and a spot of lunch. However it soon became apparent that Ethan was running low on serenity and was craving some 'running about' time. So before he could work himself into a frenzy I allowed him out of the buggy whilst I ordered our dinner. He proceeded to get under everyone's feet and make numerous infuriating attempts to leave the cafe at which point I had to clamber past everyone to reach the little beggar before he made his get away.

I soon tired of this game and so against his protests I strapped him into a high chair for his dinner. All I can say is what a waste of time, money and food. It all ended up on the floor at which point I gave Ethan 'the look' as opposed to the telling off I would have given him if we were not out in a public setting, but he got the message what with him being a bright boy...and promptly burst into tears, hurt and anguished that mummy was disappointed in him. This then led to me having to cuddle the little monkey whilst making a feeble attempt at eating my own dinner. Luckily I have learnt over the last 3 years that if ever I am eating out with the kids, always order something off the menu that can be eaten with one hand, because no matter how much preparation goes into the eating out experience, inevitably one hand and arm will always be otherwise engaged with entertaining/feeding/restraining a child!

So by the time we had finished our dinner I had the ususal indigestion caused by irritation and tension as I hastily wolfed down my meal, and I had given in to Ethan's demands to be set free, so he was running up and down the cafe with another child yelling 'yaaaay' (his vocabulary is still quite limited, thank goodness!). Part of me was thinking I should go and stop my child from being noisy and dsiturbing the other customers, whilst the other part of me was thinking 'Oh sod it, if I just stare down into my now cold coffee for long enough that old couple whose table leg the kids keep banging into might just disappear'. Unfortunately I'm not the kind of person who is comfortable with allowing my child/childrten to disrupt other people's social outings, so off I went to chase down my noisy, clumsy child with the added bonus of an audience of judgemental strangers.

I knew what would happen before I even stood up so I don't really know why I bothered, but I did and it went abit like this. Ethan spotted the accosting mummy about to spoil his fun, turned and tried to run away as quickly as possible on his little clumsy feet, fell straight onto his face as soon as I reached him and screamed like a cat being set on fire! Anyone turning to take this all in right at this point would have failed to see the lead up to this impending chaos, and instead would just be left with an image of a screaming, anguished and hurt child and a red faced woman stood intently over him with her arms out stretched. It almost makes you want to turn to everyone and shout 'I didn't push him...' Possibly not the best move!

So I scooped him up in a big bear hug instead and promptly left the cafe before matters could get any worse, and off we went, back to the safety of, where else of course, home. Yes home our little haven away from judgemental strangers all with their perfect little lives, straight morals, and flawless parenting skills. Of course I'm very much aware that this is all quite irrational, and that I'm not the only mum to be suffering the torment of being socially inept whilst out with my 2 young children (or even just 1 of them actually!), but when I'm out and in the thick of all the chaos and noise, rational thought isn't anywhere to be found.

What is quite amusing is that I have been telling my husband my woes of how troublesome it can be just getting the weekly shop in with the kids, never mind actually trying to have a day out of some description with them, and whilst I reiterate the frantic tales of stress and frustration to him I can see in his face that he thinks I'm exaggerating. So when we took the kids to Betws-Y-Coed this morning and the hubby suggested a walk I reluctantly agreed. Knowing my children and their typical behaviour on outings such as these I quietly anticipated a highly difficult situation to arise. But off we went, the hubby with a spring in his step at the prospect of a lovely sunny day and a walk with the family, happy in his naivity. 5 minutes into the walk a tantrumming Ethan was being carried back to the car by a fuming daddy whilst mummy hurried a cross legged Megan to the public loo's before she had an accident!

Strangely this pleased me. I think that if the walk would have been a success and the kids were on their best behaviour this would have just reinforced the hubby's belief that I'm having him on every day when he comes home from work and he asks me about my day at which point I huff and complain about how stressful it is being a 'stay at home mum'. At least today he was able to have a glimpse at what kind of a struggle it is to leave the house with the little monkeys. On the way home Jonny (the hubby) quietly asked 'Are they always like that when you go out?' to which I simply responded 'Yes'. And it was almost like a burden had been lifted.

Now when I share my stories of unsuccessful trips to the park or supermarket with Jonny I know he'll really be listening, and more importantly, he'll be believing. Because it really is blummin hard work looking after two children of this age. I've been told it will get easier, and they will become more manageable on outings, and Dear God, I am clinging to the hope that this is true! The truth of the matter is that when you become a parent you lose your pride, your dignity, and absolutely every single ounce of street cred you may have once had. And just when you start thinking to yourself 'My word this is all abit much', your child looks up at you with their big beautiful eyes and grins all cheeky, or turns their head to one side and say 'Mummy' in a voice that makes your heart melt. And then everything stops and nothing else even exists apart the room your in and the child in front of you, and there's nowhere else in the world you want to be anyway, so who cares if you can't leave the house anymore after all!

Like butter wouldn't melt..

Tantrum? Me? Never.

School; an emotional liabilty...for the parents!

So my baby girl, Megan Dakota has started part time school, it feels weird and exciting and scary and brilliant and upsetting and worrying all at the same! It feels like two minutes since the midwife lay my new baby girl in my arms and I looked upon her beautiful face for the very first time, and I felt all of the above emotions rush over me all at once, and with all of that also came the intense protective maternal instinct and I subconsciously made a personal agreement that I was never letting this beautiful creature that I had created out of my sight. It all felt so fragile, she was so vulnerable, so dependant, and that made me feel so important and needed, so adored unconditionally because no-one could meet her needs the way that I could.

My beautiful girl

Needless to say then that the prospect of sending my vulnerable little baby to school to be looked after by strangers was incomprehensible for the first 2 years of Megan's life. Until she discovered that she had the power to manipulate daft mummy who was very much tied around Megan's little finger, and that she could invoke control by the simplest of methods that could drive mummy to drink...massive tantrums in the supermarket ('I WILL have those sweeties' mocks the Megan Monster) and hunger strikes that could last for days; my will always broke before Megan's and she would inevitably end up with a tummy full of Jaffa cakes and lolly pops for my paranoia of her impending malnutrition!

She's a clever little devil child who I love more than myself so chastising the little menace is impossible because as soon as I do I feel guilty and smother her in kisses completely undoing the punishment. Yes, I am openly admitting that I struggle to discipline my child appropriately, but I am sure I am not the only mum who finds the balance challenging, especially when there are so many different opinions on how a child should be taught right from wrong. I think back to my upbringing when a smack on the bum was inevitable if you were naughty, but then I remember how emotionally upsetting it was for me rather than physically, and it makes my stomach tighten to think that Megan feels like that when I smack her on the bum for being naughty...so I cuddle the breath out of her in guilt! Then there's the flip side which is ignoring bad behaviour so that they stop doing it. Well I find this pretty much impossible. I can't just sit and ignore Megan as she repeatedly swings her toy guitar at Ethan's head. I'm sure she would get bored eventually and stop but at the cost to my second child's consciousness I would have thought.

The Megan Monster!

So once Megan turned 2 and a half and the school phoned to ask if Megan would like to attend the cylch (pre-school) for a few hours each day it was like God had phoned up personally and offered me a little piece of heaven. If someone would have said to me that I would have been leaping at the opportunity to put Megan into pre-school in just a couple of years, back when I was sat cradling my gorgeous gurgling baby I would have defied them wide eyed and insulted, nevermind the fact that I would be paying for strangers to take over the care of my child.

Megan on her 1st day at the cylch

But the cylch has been a massive help in showing Megan how to socialise and share, and how being nice and using manners can often achieve a bigger result than throwing a tantrum. My baby has grown into a little girl over the last 6 months, I have watched her change every day, there is always something new that she has to tell me, or something she has discovered she can do, from rolling her tongue to reciting the alphabet, she impresses me all the time. I'm very aware that she is no longer a baby, but I still see her as one. She's my baby girl, and now I understand what my mum meant when she always said that about me. I don't think Megan will ever stop being my baby girl, just as I am still my mum's baby girl. I'll never forget when I had Megan, and my mum sat cooing over her, and she said 'I can't believe my baby girl has had a baby'. That seemed funny to me at the time, but now I understand, and I'll understand even more when Megan grows up and has a family of her own. How strange to think that my baby may have babies of her own one day, but how wonderful to think that they will all be a part of me, and of my mum too.

My sister, my mum and me; my mum with her baby girls!

Me with my beautiful mum at Megan's 3rd birthday

So as Megan ran into her new school grinning form ear to ear so excited, I felt a pang of panic and regret as I realised that I was no longer needed, her needs were being met by strangers now, and I was no longer important, no longer depended upon. I felt a sudden urge to run back into the school, grab her and run home with her, and keep her there..forever! I should have been pleased that there were no tears or upset, and that she was so keen for me to leave so that she could get on with her day. But maybe just one tear to show mummy that she was still important and would be missed? I secretly wished that she'd needed abitwatch mummy's disgruntled departure.

Megan in her uniform arriving at school

My heart was in my throat as I walked back down the hill with Ethan. I felt like I'd just cut off a limb and walked away. It was a tough day of watching the clock and checking my phone constantly just in case the school rang; 'hello Mrs Harding-Smith, yes I'm afraid you're going to have to come and collect Megan, she's desperately pining for you and there's just nothing we can do to console her, only a mother's love will do'...but no phone call came. Ethan cried throughout most of the day just to make matters worse, I think he missed his sister and probably picked up on the fact that mummy was moping. But we got to the school gates and Megan came running out grinning like a Cheshire cat and wanting a cuddle, and in that instant everything felt as it should, it all felt right. Megan looked at me with those big brown eyes and held her arms up to me because she'd missed me. I was still number one after all, well maybe a close second to Teddy who she insisted on seeing almost immediately!

So that was yesterday. Today was also emotional, but in more of a whimsical 'aw look at how my little girl has grown' kind of way, and I didn't mope quite so much. In fact me and Ethan had a lovely day together and I think this may be the beginning of some real quality time spent with my son who has never really had alot of one on one mummy and baby time, so now it's his turn. He's now 20 months old, and I'm dreading the day he begins school...my baby boy....he's not allowed to grow up and turn into a stroppy teenager, just as Megan isn't allowed to grow into a fiery tempered teen who wants to wear her skirt like a belt and kiss boys...Oh my God that's gonna be painful...need to start working on that chastity belt!

My babies; they love each other really!

Megan's 3rd Birthday Bash, and the end of Peppa Pig...

Hello all and once again my apologies for being so neglectful of this blog that I promised I would update daily. I'm sure all you mums out there will forgive me however as you will understand how busy and tiring life can be with 2 small children, especially when one of them has a birthday! Yes it was Megan's 3rd birthday on Monday, so we celebrated with lots and lots of cake...I mean I don't think I've ever seen that much cake in one room before! It was my fault really, I said to everyone that I wasn't going to be doing any proper food to ensure that there were no expectations to be fed at the party, and so I just got afew little cakes, then my sister-in-law baked a load of scrumptious cake goodies, and my mother in law also provided a host of gateau's and cakes...and then of course there was Megan's birthday cake (Peppa Pig of course carefully chosen by the birthday girl from Asda's impressive array of children's cakes). By the time we sang happy birthday and Megan blew out her candles and made a wish everyone was already so full of cake that Peppa Pig actually managed to stay in one piece until the end of the party!



The day was brilliant, and typically stressful to begin with as I'd anticipated but tried to prevent by not spending the whole morning tied to the kitchen preparing sandwiches, cheese on sticks and sausage rolls for a party of 30, only for most of it to go uneaten and my nanna to take home in a doggy bag to feed my grandad for the week. But we did enjoy a couple of hours first thing in the morning of helping Megan to unwrap her pressies and have a good play with them, all of us still in our pajama's feeling all festive and giddy. This is what having kids is all about; re catching that feeling of excitement at the prospect of birthdays and Christmas. That joy and giddiness seems to ooze out of them and make you feel all warm and silly, it's like rediscovering Santa. I almost feel like I actually believe in Santa after all the stories I've told Megan about the old fool. You kind of have to believe in it to a certain extent in order to be convincing...kids aren't daft, they know a porkie when they hear one!

So after a couple of ours of banging out chuwnes on her new keyboard and microphone, and terrorising Ethan as soon as he so much as looked at her new Bratz camper van, I threw them both in the bath and let them drown each other for half an hour before setting off to Nainy and Grumpy's house for the big do.

At this point I would like to do a massive shout out to the awsomeness that is the mother in law, Tricia, and of course Grumpy, for once again allowing us to bestow the family madness upon your humble home for the good of the grand kids! It's hugely appreciated and always turns into a lovely day, that house has a vibe that seems to make nutty people sane, disturbed people serene, and well..just plain lovely I suppose (I am of course referring to my family here).

The efforts that had gone into the newly built play swings, slides and trampolines paid off as the 7 children in attendance frolicked and played, and occasionally bumped themselves about abit for most of the party until it finally decided to rain. But the rain didn't ruin the fun, it merely brought a gentle close to the day, and as everyone said their goodbye's to a sleepy Megan she didn't complain or insist that they stay. I think it had been just enough chaos to tire the little lady out...nearly anyway, she had to have a go on her new Peppa Pig Wii game for an hour before we left Nainy and Grumpy in peace for the evening!

Wii concentration!

And so mummy's diet began again on Tuesday because even my jegging's are groaning under the strain of my expanding cake shelf at the moment...the only problem is all the blasted cake left over from Megan's birthday. I've managed to devour most of Peppa Pig's bike, legs, arms and torso...I couldn't bring myself to eat his face but Megan showed no restraint as she tucked into his nose, and then an ear. So I'm sat here tonight after being quite well behaved on the diet all day today, with Peppa Pig in the other room, merely a pair of eyes left following me around the room and part of his mouth. It's like he's asking to be put out of his misery, murmuring to me with his half mouth as I walk past 'Go on, finish me off, look at me, there's not much of me left, you can't leave me like this, what kind of a person would you be if you switched off the light's, went up to bed and just left me here like this...all alone, just a pair of eyes peering into the darkness'...

Alright Peppa, you win, I'm on my way, the diet can start tomorrow when you've gone!

The late Peppa Pig

For some reason this pic will only upload upside down...sorry, you may have to turn your computer upside down ;-)

How to protect your sofa and carpet from harmful UV rays...Sun Cream?

Firstly I apologise for neglecting my blog for the last few days, it's been hectic to say the least, and every time I've sat down to write something one of the monsters starts yelling from their afternoon nap or I get a phone call with yet another family drama that takes away another hour of my life that I'll never get back. I won't go into any details (for fear of reprisals) but my family is like the cast of Eastenders, full of drama, every day there's a new disaster, and for some reason I always end up playing councillor landing me directly in the middle of the controversy. Ah yes, never a dull day when you're part of this family, even when you make the massive effort of moving away from the nutcases! It's a good job I love them all regardless of the chaos that comes with them!

I've also been abit of a socialite, in comparison to what my social life has been over the last 4 years since having children anyway! Since my last blog I've been out 3 out of those 5 nights, and yes alcohol was involved in each and every outing. Since having my babies my recovery time from a night out is now between 48  to 36 hours, depending on how much alcohol was consumed, in comparison to the 6 hour recovery time needed back in my college days before the next party could begin!

Needless to say that I have been like a walking zombie struggling to keep up with my much more socially experienced friends, who are of course childless and who have the luxury of a good lie in the next morning, unlike my 6am wake up call by my little gremlins who have no care for the fact that mummy only fell into bed 4 hours earlier!

It has been a fun week however of catching up with old friends and following my hubby's band around for a couple of gigs, pretending for afew hours that we're young and carefree. This is a silly idea really though, or at least that's what I surmised the following morning when my head was thumping at the prospect of a full day with the monsters running rings round me. The guilty feeling in your gut could possibly be the worst side effect, and paranoia that you're possibly the worst mum in the world because of a reckless night out which has left you barely capable of lifting a mug of coffee to your lips, never mind meeting the demands of two small children all day. Does this make me a bad mum? I hope not. If so...well all I can say is there are alot of bad mum's out there!

Daddy's band, Zebedy. Daddy's the crazy lookin shirtless dude in the middle!

The worst morning after was Sunday morning. This was meant to be my lie in because daddy had his lie in on Saturday morning. However somehow at some stage between the dreaded 6am wake up call and 8am, when daddy came running upstairs in a state of alarm, the kids had managed to spot an opportunity and they did what any mischievous child would do and ran with it!

It was the funny smell that hit me first, then as my tired eyes focused on the living room I gasped in horror. Daddy had taken his eye off the ball, or the sun cream that had been in Megan's school bag to be more specific, and the kids had decided to paint themselves, the sofa and the carpet and just about everywhere else in it. The kids were nowhere in sight, they're not daft, they'd buggered off into the garden at the sound of their parent's footsteps on the stairs. A surprisingly clean looking Megan was pushing a greasy looking sun cream covered Ethan around in their Little Tykes car without a care in the world. Ethan's hair was fashioned into a mohican (although I suspect daddy was the culprit of that do, not Megan!) and his ears were thick with the stuff, I'm surprised he could hear anything!

I closed my eyes hoping it would all just disappear and my lovely clean living room and freshly bathed babies would reappear once I opened my eyes. Instead just my sheepish looking husband stood before me. Rather than grab a sponge and start cleaning however, he merely insisted we go out for breakfast. I could have slapped him it was such a stupid thing to say and only resulted in my exasperation turning to anger. Well it nearly did...maybe I was just too exasperated. We went out for breakfast.

Ethan's sun creamed hair do

Much to my disappointment the mess was still there when we got home, the kids still stank of sun cream and I was still hungover. So that day mostly consisted of scrubbing the living room and the kids, and yet I can still smell the stuff every time I walk in the house! I never realised sun cream was so smelly until now.


It reminds me of when Megan got hold of the sudocrem and pasted dolly with it before painting her lamp shade and wall with it too. I never realised just how smelly that was either til I found half my house smeared in the stuff, or how tricky it is to clean the blummin stuff off either! It's barrier cream after all so it has an amazing resistance to water! I kind of thought the whole thing was funny initially, I even took the time to take a photo (see below!) until I turned into a blaspheming demon scrubbing Megan's walls pointlessly, the wall paper was more willing to be cleaned off than the sudocrem!

It's the look on poor Dolly's face that made it comical!

Getting in shape and a poo on the potty, yay! 'Mummy can we keep it?'

Today has been a busy one, finally we got back to the creche so mummy can start her exercises again, the babies were thrilled to get back and I was instantly forgotten as they raced for the toys, and I excitedly joined my fellow exercise companions for a brutal legs, bums and tums session...that nearly killed me!

Due to the overlapping illnesses suffered by the children over the last few weeks I've had to cancel the creche every week and go without the nourishment provided by my grueling exercise regimes, and now I'm really suffering for it. My body has turned into blancmange, I'm all weak and wobbly. So the next few weeks of picking up my fitness level are gonna be tough, but worth it.

I've been doing the exercise classes and the gym ever since Ethan was 3 months old. I decided, as I stood mournfully eyeing my tired defeated body in the mirror one morning, that I had to do something to combat the slowly deteriating mass of flesh I saw before me. I'd aired my concerns over my non-recognisable self in comparison to my slender pre-baby figure to my health visitor, and to friends, and the response was always the same 'Oh don't be worrying about getting back into shape, that'll all come back naturally in time'. I listened to it all and couldn't help thinking, 'hmm well how come when I took that approach after Megan was born I remained fat and lumpy?'

To any new mums who may be reading this I will not lie to you, your body does not just magically return to it's pre-baby state without any conscious effort by yourself as many of your well meaning friends will have you believe. I think all mum's end up getting to a certain point after having their baby when they look at themselves and think 'Oh crap my body has fell apart and I haven't got the time or inclination to do anything about it', especially when you're hardly getting any sleep and every waking second is consumed by feeds, pooey nappies and crying (by both mum and baby if you're anything like what I was like in the early days!).

Sheer determination and a hint of panic pushed me to signing up at the gym, at first thinking I'd just try to get there in the evenings and weekends when the hubby was home to have the babies. As soon as I learnt that there was a creche available every morning I paid up front for a year! It was like all my christmas's had just come at once. All of a sudden I entered into a world where I could be child free for a whole hour every morning while I worked my bum off in the gym, making every second count. At the end of every session I felt exhilerated and proud that I was getting that bit closer to getting a shadow of my former body back, and the kids were so pleased to see me when I picked them up from the creche. I found I had more patience to deal with Megan's tantrums and Ethan's relentless crying in the evening when he had colic or was teething. My overall sense of well being was significantly heightened.

I mentioned all of this to my health visitor at a routine check for Ethan a few months ago, and hinted that perhaps it would be beneficial to let new mums know that this kind of thing was available for them if they wanted it. However I got the impression that health visitor's don't appreciate being told how to do their job and the conversation resumed back to Ethan before I pissed her off too much!

I do believe it should be advertised more to new mum's, not only do you get an hour child free but you get to work off some of that pent up new-mum-lifestyle-frustration. Or if you're particularly shattered just sit in the hall for the hour pretending you're having a breather, as I may have done on one occasion after being up all night with a teething boy!

Anyway, I'm getting side tracked. Back to today. So yes I'm back on the exercise regime, and was meant to be starting some kind of healthy eating plan today aswell, which certainly should not have included the Galaxy caramel chocolate bar I had after my chicken salad wrap, but never mind, one thing at a time eh?

We're currently taking on the potty training challenge with Megan, we've been tackling this particular stage of development for 10 months now, all the books and articles on 'How to Potty Train your toddler in a week' obviously were not referring to Megan, she has plans of her own when it comes to her bodily functions. At first it all seemed to be going so well, with the aid of 'Teddy' (see pic below) we managed to get her to put a wee wee in the potty, at which point we celebrated massively and handed out stickers and cuddles, all the right moves according to the books etc. But then nothing for months. She would sit for ages on the potty talking and reading her potty book, and not a drop. Then we'd pop her pull ups back on to go out and she'd have this contemplative look on her face for afew seconds before grinning from ear to ear and running off. Blummin monkey knew exactly what she was doing! Which on the one hand was quite reassuring because it was evidence of her having obvious control over her bladder, she was holding herself until we put her pull ups on, but on the other hand it was extremely infuriating.

Teddy perched on the towel rail offering words of encouragement

Luckily spring brought with it some blisteringly hot days where I decided to abandon Megan's pants completely for a whole week! Following afew puddles on the kitchen floor and mummy's disapproving scowl, she eventually started weeing on her potty, triggering praise and stickers, and eventually big girl knickers with princess's on them. I was so pleased we'd cracked it, well nearly, there was still the issue of number 2's, and Megan's refusal to do them anywhere apart from in her knickers.

So the breakthrough was in May, and it's now August and we're still desperately trying to get Megan to do her number 2's on the potty or toilet before she starts school in September. She'll be the youngest in her year at school because she was born right at the end of August, hence the pressure to start the potty training perhaps a little earlier than usual (she'd just turned 2 when we introduced her to the potty to have a play with and 'make friends' with), and ever since the open day at Megan's school afew weeks back when the reality of Megan going to big school like a grown up little lady suddenly hit me. The thought of her teacher's having to face what I face in Megan's knickers on a daily basis made me blush and grit my teeth, I couldn't put another human being through that...could I? No no of course not, it is my parental responsibility to get my girl to do the deed on the toilet, and only on the toilet.

Needless to say I've tried everything; ignoring the whole matter to see if she'll go to the potty herself, encouragement, chastising, bribary, disgust, acting like poo is great! I've ran out of idea's. Then today when I was on the phone, Megan suddenly hopped off her chair and over to the potty for what I thought was a wee. I've never been so excited to see a grimace and pink cheeked look of concentration on anyone's face in my life. Completely forgetting I was on the phone I realsied what Megan was doing and began chants of encouragement, 'good girl, you do a nice big poo in the potty, that's it, big push, clever girl!!' Needless to say the rare phone phone calls recieved from that particular friend may now become even more rare, as I quickly ended the phone call to focus on my amazing child that had just managed to achieve something right up there with climbing Mount Everest as far as I was concerned!

I cuddled, kissed, swooned over, and threw her around playfully as she giggled (after wiping her bum of course..that could have been messy otherwise!). And on Megan's instruction we took a photograph of her 'big snake' that she had 'put in the potty all by herself' so that we could show Daddy when he got home, well it's better than the other idea she had which was to keep it in the cupboard for later so that everyone could see her snake, eek!

So we've had an afternoon of telling Ethan all about Megan's big poo, she went to wake him up from his nap, much to my dismay, as I was cleaning the potty because she just had to tell someone that wasn't me, I think she felt a little bit deflated that Ethan didn't seem too bothered, or even to understand, probably because he didn't, but I managed to get him to clap his hands in ignorant appraisal of his sister's toilet achievement anyway.

Hopefully this could be a turning point, maybe, please God, please let this be the end of scraping poo out of Peppa Pig knickers?! I'll keep you posted...

Megan with her stickers for being a big clever girl!

The Fun of Eating Out...

Today was definately a day of eating out, as is usually the case on the weekend when the hubby is off work and we try to make the most of our time together as a family. So as soon as we were all up and dressed this morning we piled into the car and hit the road for a 'fun family day out'! We have many of these 'fun family days out', where we head off in the car grinning from ear to ear at the prospect of fun and laughter whilst frollicking in the sunshine...but in fairnesss it usually turns out to be a couple of hours wandering around in the rain trying desperately to find a cafe that accepts buggy's, has a high chair, and isn't crammed to the rafters with 'polite people' who spend the entire time scowling over their tea cups at the noisy children.

However today was a pleasnat surprise, partly down to the fact that we went for simplicity instead of  extravagance (McDonalds!), and partly because the kids were just in such a good mood, I was flabergasted to find they were actually holding hands in the back of the car, I just had to take a pic (see below!), rather than the usual whining that one or the other had hold of something that the other just so desperately had to have right that second or they may just explode etc, they were actually expressing their subconscious love for one other!

So yes breakfast at McDonalds was a relaxed affair and the kids devoured their pancakes. In fairness to McDonalds they've picked themselves up over the last few years and I don't feel as guilty as my health visitor would insist that I should do for allowing my children to eat there. They have after all recieved awards for their fight against child obesity and providing healthy options for all of the family, including Happy Meals for kids which now include fruit and fat free milk (that my children love of course, ahem). I'm not trying to promote McDonald's as the answer to difficult meal times, but I don't believe the odd trip to McDonalds will turn our children into insolent fat lazy littler computer addicts over night, even though the health professionals would have us believe it.

Following our naughty but delicious breakfast we hopped back in the car, loading our full happy tummies in beside us...or that could have just been me! and off we went to Chester for yet more family fun with my dad (Grandad), his girlfriend Elaine (who we are just in the process of getting to know but who seems very lovely indeed, my dad's smiling again so what could be bad about that!), my sister Nikki (Aunty Nikki), and my nephew Michael (Cuz Mikey).

The children were coy as we approached Aunty Nikki and Michael, and so were succumbed to silence in their bashfulness, which continued as we met Grandad and Elaine, and the unearthly silence continued as we strolled through Chester, so much so that I would have forgotten that the children were there if it wasn't for the fact that I was pushing a buggy!

In spite of our late breakfast we were peckish again so we went on the hunt for a half decent cafe that met all of the requirements listed above, and without too much trouble we stumbled upon a fabulous Italian restaurant on Lower Bridge Street called La Fattoria, and I hugely recommend this place for any family. They almost felt like a newly opened resteraunt because of their keenness to please and hospitaltity, but the service and food proved them to be a well established and well run business. They helped us in with the buggies, folded one down and hid it away for us, quickly surfaced a high chair for us, and cooed at the kids for a minute before leaving us to make our food choice.

During our meal I looked across at a young family who were struggling with their two toddlers, I empathised with them completely as it was like looking at a mirror image of a usual Saturday Harding-Smith outing, all red faced and flustered the mum was trying to hush her tantrumming toddler, when a lovely 'easy on the eye' Italian waiter flounced over, grapsed the little girl's hand and asked her to walk with him round the empty tables next to the family. The little girl was stunned into silence and so thrilled at the attention she was recieving that she walked around those tables with that awesome waiter for a good 15 minutes while the rest of the family finished their meals. If there is one waiter in this world that deserves a tip it's him!

And so we enjoyed a relatively stress free meal whilst the children amused themselves with toy phones, Aunty Nikki's real phone, and bits of pasta and garlic bread, ooh and ice cream of course, to the point where we actually managed to hold a converstation that didn't consist of 'put that down', 'don't do that' 'ssshhhh' or 'For God's sake let's go home'. It was lovely to catch up with my dad, and to have a giggle with him too, and to see my sister and nephew in good spirits too.

We were still smiling as we gathered ourselves to leave and the kids were sent on their way by the lovely child friendly waiter with a lolly pop each (which I promptly removed from Ethan's death grip and put away, never to be seen again! Megan was allowed to hold her lolly on the condition that the plastic wasn't removed, daddy must not have heard this rule and the second my back was turned the lolly was released from it's plastic wrapper and stickyness ensued...which I ignored to the best of my ability. The sticky mess caused by those tiny sticks of sugar are enough to send me into a OCD frenzy that could destroy the whole day!)

A stroll along the riverside and through the park to see the squirrels completed the day, and the sun even broke out from behind the clouds for a while, the day was definately on our side. So before anything could ruin it (the children were beginning to yawn and frown in indifference to the continuing festivities) we said our goodbyes and headed back to the car. The children slept the whole way home giving me and daddy time to talk and reflect on what a beautiful family we have and what a darn good job we're doing...what a contrast to the 'fun family day's out' where we huff all the way home annoyed that we couldn't seem to get to grips with the whole happy family situation, and that it must be down to our poor organisation and communication skills..some days work and other's don't, that's just one of the unpredictable adventures of having children, they decide if you're going to have a good day or not!

Thanks for the great day kids, don't worry, we know you're still the boss around here!

My sister Nikki with Megan

My dad and Michael with their matching Mafia style hats!

When sleep becomes you...

Well following 3 weeks taken over by chicken pox and infections I have been exhausted to say the least. First it was Megan who erupted into a mass of itching red bubbles that at first horrified me, until 10 seconds into my panic of thinking 'Holy Hell, what the hell kind of insect could have done this to my child over night?!' I realised it was more than likely the common virus Chicken Pox. A week of restless night's and irritable days ensued whilst Megan suffered the feverish effects of the illness. I texted all of the family to inform them of the important news, but my tired brain instructed my fingers to text everyone the news that Megan in fact had 'Chicken Pots', much to my embarressent when I later realised my error.

Ethan's 1st swimming experience!

Secondly I ended up in accident and emergency in the wee hours of the morning with Ethan, who's little willy had swollen to about 4 times it's usual size, terrifying me into a complete panic as I stood clutching my baby in one arm whilst frantically trying to call the out of hours doctor on the phone with my other hand, bewildered as to why I was just getting a funny buzzing noise on the other end, only to realsise after 10 times redialling that I was phoning a fax machine! Giving up we made a dash for the hospital which turned out to be the right move as it tuned out Ethan was very poorly indeed with an infection of the foreskin, most likely cause was the trip to the swimming baths the day before, which had been Ethan's very first swimming experience, very unlucky.

Once on the antibiotics however Ethan was soon back to his cheeky monster self, darting around the garden with his sister on his heals. Until the dreaded blistery angry red spots began appearing all over Ethan's body I'd been thinking we would finally get a half decent's night sleep...but no, the 'Chicken Pots' had other plans; 'no sleep for you mummy no no no, your job is pacing up and down the living room with a crying feverish boy until your arms go dead and your back gives way', and the 'Chicken Pots' were right too, that's just what I did, as I'm sure millions of mother's before me have done.

The lonely task of dragging yourself away from your lovely warm bed in the dark of night to soothe the crying child, as the husband snores softly on unaware of the upset elsewhere in the house. In the light of day I'm not resentful at all of my husband's ability to sleep through the chaos of wakeful children and stressed out mummy in the middle of the night, it's a good job he can really so that he's rested for his work throughtout the day. But in the midst of the morbid heart aching night's of soothing poorly babies all I feel like doing is waking the bugger up and telling him to take the pressure off.

It requires great will power not to wake the husband and to deal with the night time chaos on my own, especially over the last few weeks. But the feeling at the end of it all is worth it. Rewarding. You don't get a medal for doing this job, god you don't even get a pat on the back, you're never employee of the month, you don't get a pay rise, well you don't get paid! But what you do get is complete dependency  from your children, hmm wait there, I suppose I was meant to say something good there! But really and truly it is a good thing. To know that your baby wants you and only you, and only the warmth of you as you hold them in your arms can soothe them back to peace, and make them smile, that's the biggest ego boost in all the world. To be loved so unconditionally and completely, that's enough payment for me...

The 'Chicken Pots' Children

But from time to time even the toughest and most enduring mum needs some kip in order to keep going! And I'm pleased to tell you all that in the last 24 hours I got 11 hours sleep (in 2 doses) and it feels like christmas! Hence me finally having the energy to begin my blog. I think sleep deprivation is possibly the worst part of having babies. Out of all of the challenges faced by new parents, surely lack of sleep tops them all, and makes all of the other challenges 10 times harder. It is afterall used as a method of torture by the japanese. Sufferer's experience hallucinations, paranoi, disorientation...all fun symptoms to be having whilst caring for small children, keeping a nice tidy home and ensuring the husband's happy with his lot!

Ah blessed sleep, and on that note, I'm off to bed. Night all...