When I became Momma Bear I swore I would never let my baby cry it out. It’s cruel and unkind. Babies are not mature enough to understand how to manipulate us. They simply want us. And Little Bean wants Momma. All the time. To the detriment of her sleep… and mine. But then I realised two things, I’m exhausted but more importantly…
Being Momma Bear has changed me. I’ve changed drastically and dramatically and for the better. We grow up, drag ourselves in to the world of adulthood and expect nothing. For some people things don’t change. They blend from one decade to the next with the same ideals and shoes. Others change quickly, become bigger, better versions of their younger selves. And then there are new parents. The change is sudden and immense. The growing up and learning is vast. Parenthood is like an affliction that changes the internal mechanisms of your body and brain – in a positive yet frightfully severe way. Has parenthood changed you?
In June, we visited our local country school. The school that will take Little Miss from junior infants at a tender age of four years eleven months all the way up to an inconceivable eleven years old and an added seven months. What kind of little girl will she be at the end of this journey? How tall will she be? Will she even sound the same as the baby voice swiftly disappears into the memories I play back in my head? How excited will she be? What new friends will she make? What plans will start forming in her head for what she wants to be when she gets older?
You may remember how, in all my winter excitement, I convinced my parents to join us on our summer holidays this year. In January began our hunt for a relaxing retreat away on a secluded but beautiful spot of Ireland. Low and behold a Wexford self catering house awaited us in Kilmore Quay. It may be weeks away, but I’m already thinking about what to pack. In my head we’re going to the Algarve and expecting 25° heat. The holiday essential list is long. Getting longer by the minute when I add in the favourite toys and books which can not be forgotten alongside the mountains of clothes which need to be brought. As you can see, I’ve mostly been thinking about what the kids need but there are a few more holiday essentials we all end up forgetting.
A wedding is an exciting and daunting time. There’s countless planning involved and there are far too many considerations to keep in mind. Everyone wants a perfect wedding, but few people can achieve it especially when you factor in limitations such as money, time and also what’s physically possible in the time you set.
I absolutely can not explain to you how much I am terrified of the dentist. I don’t know why I’m afraid but I do know that I struggle to find my way to the dentists office let alone the chair. It’s a common fear and and for me it’s right up there with clowns, creepy kids and china dolls. Little Miss has always been good at brushing her teeth. Even more so now that her Montessori teacher gave her a tooth brushing timer. But I’m terrified I’m going to pass on this fear to her.
*** This is a collaborative post but don’t be like me and avoid the dentist. Look after your oral hygiene, your teeth and your gums. ***
I’ve always loved the idea of having a Rainy Day Fund or as my folks say Funny Money, which is an awesome way to say “here’s a few bob. Let’s treat ourselves!” Myself and Papa Bear don’t drink, smoke or pop any drugs stronger than paracetamol for the migraines that come our way. Alcohol is something neither of us are bothered about and I hear we’re saving a tonne by skipping it all together, although the odd Lidl wine has said to be a bargain and there’s something to be said for making your own moonshine! Even so, we like to splurge on our favourite vice – food! Little Miss has a saying which goes something like, “Can we go somewhere nice to eat?” So Lord knows we gotta save for these little treats now that we’re down to one income and a bit! Read more
It’s one of the first worries most parents who are expecting number two have. It was something I often thought about but brushed it aside considering my sister has four kids and seems to manage with balancing four personalities. But lately the sting of the reality of caring for a baby alongside a four year old has crept in. The last few weeks, as I look at the curls lengthening on Little Missus’ head, I wonder if she’s losing out as Little Bean demands more attention. I truly feel outnumbered and underpowered.
There are days, quite a lot of them actually, when I don’t feel like the adult in this Momma Bear / Baby Bear scenario. Little Miss sidled up to me one afternoon this week and wrapped her dainty arms around my legs and hugged me hard. The little mite, in her four tiny years and few short feet, has grown up so much in the past year but so desperately needs her Momma’s hugs. And I hope she always will. In that instant, as her arms squeezed me tight, I thought, dammit I needed that. I needed that hug. And I also thought, dammit I’m the Mom.
I sound incredibly pretentious and righteous with the title of this post. But the fact of the matter is, myself and Papa Bear are together 17 years last week. We must be doing something right. I was a teeny, tiny 17 years old when I met him, meaning I now literally know him half my life. I’ve thought of this day quite a lot over the last almost two decades. Knowing, and loving him (get a room!) for half of my life feels like such a huge achievement. He has been by my side for so long and I can’t imagine life without him. We were young when we met, young when we married and we’re still young. And we’re still together. Against the odds. Because everyone figured there would be odds. That we were too young. That we wouldn’t last. Well, we did. And we are. And I put it down to three things.