One of my new blogger buds is Sinead who writes a brilliant blog at Shinners and the Brood. Sinead is such a lovely person who started her blog in September 2016. With three little ones, she has plenty to spur her on in this blogging journey. Sinead has taken on my questions and joined me for this weeks In Conversation With. Check out her nuggets of parenting wisdown and remember to check out her blog and follow her on facebook and twitter!
Pregnancy comes with quite a lot of misconceptions. Often there is an expectation of how you are supposed to feel and things you should do while a little dude or dudette takes up home in your uterus. You should be happy, excited and glowing. You should be mother earth and enjoy every minute of the experience. Well, no, not exactly. We’re not reproducing machines, all latched on to the same programme, downloading the same software and experiencing the same thing. We’re real women, with real emotions, issues and problems. Pregnancy is not a walk in the park. For some, it’s a dredge through quicksand. So here are my seven things you don’t have to do while pregnant.
I’m not normally one to complain and I don’t believe I’m privileged or expect anything from anyone, least of all their seat. However, I’ve never been on the other side of the whole seat debate on public transport before and I have to admit, as a pregnant women, I was quite surprised and ultimately disappointed in the reaction and lack of action on the part of my fellow commuters last Tuesday.
When we lived in my parents house for the four months in between houses I was given an education by my folks on how easy it is to recycle. They are avid recyclers and have a significantly lower waste output than we do. We were never terrible when it came to recycling but clearly we could have been better. Especially when it came to food waste. I’ll be honest, we gave up on our brown bin a long time ago for the usual icky, gross and smelly reasons. When we moved into our house we brought my parents’ recycling gene with us and improved quite a lot. Except when it came to the brown bin.
Today is B’s birthday. Instead of it being a lovely family day with nice surprises for Daddy along the way, he sits in a coffee shop somewhere while I have just about managed to stop myself from crying because I was almost at the point of hyperventilating. Why? Because A wouldn’t eat her breakfast or her lunch or listen to a single word we said. Because frustration had reached a pinnacle and B and I bounced off each other making our anger and desperation worse. A is now fast asleep, down for a nap, while I sit in her room focusing my thoughts on this blog post. Today, this is what parenting looks like for me.
It’s almost the end of January and I’ve been thinking about my New Year’s Resolution. Calling it a resolution and telling everyone about it, was my way of kicking myself in the rear end to get a move on and fulfill this dream that has lingered around me for almost a decade. Do it. Write it. Get to a stage where you can tell everyone you have a finished manuscript rather than the cute, normal line of I have two half written novels. Aren’t I adorable? Who hasn’t heard that one before? I think we all have a couple of half written novels somewhere, either sitting in a drawer (under the bed in my case), flung onto a hard drive that may or may not work these days or floating above the clouds in your head. I’ve longed to have my novel written and this is the year I’ve told myself I’m going to do. Nuff said! It’s happening! Boom! Make it so! Where does it sit now, you may ask. Has my word count doubled? Have my characters become my best friends or my worst nightmares? Have I done anything?
Welcome to another week of In Conversation With. This week I chatted with Helen who runs the fantastic and highly information blog Talking Mums. I am drooling over the recipes Helen adds to the blog and wonder how does she come up with such fantastic meal ideas. I wish A wasn’t a fussy eater so I could try these recipes on her. Helen is also a midwife and shares her vast array of knowledge on her blog. Read on to see what she has to say about pregnancy, parenting and how she would deal with a crying baby in the supermarket!
One of the questions I asked other parents in the blog series, In Conversation With, last year was what are your hopes and dreams for your children? It’s a question I have tried to answer myself over the years, but it’s a difficult one to truly articulate. Good job, success, happiness, happy relationship, respect, pride? As you probably know by now, Little Bean is growing rapidly and it turns out that she’s a she! We’re delighted to be having another girl, a little sister for A. Raising daughters in this century, however, has never been easy and it doesn’t look like it will get easier any time soon. In light of the new American Presidency, we have to question where has equality disappeared to? Why are women’s rights still not being recognised? In a world where such a man can be elected to one of the highest levels of esteem and power, how can we tell our children, our daughters, that by the time their future is here that they will be treated equally, respected and honoured?
There has been a long running debate in our society about whether it’s acceptable to forgo wearing your wedding ring. Whether it’s one of those traditions that no longer holds the same sense of purpose, or if the importance of what a wedding ring means has lost its initial recognition. There are plenty of men and women who no longer see the necessity of flashing a ring on their wedding finger. But why? Why has it become a thing to not wear a ring after your wedding day? And why does it kill me if my husband ever accidentally, and it always is accidentally, forgets to wear his ring?
You may remember me complaining (Who me? Complaining? Never!) about my sincere hatred of maternity clothes because I can’t find anything comfortable or nice to wear. Well, it gets worse. Of course it does. Not only do clothes look awful on me, but hey my undergarments are less than flattering and well, let’s be honest, they’re down right painful. For me, the worst part is that god awful restricting bra. I swear, if I didn’t have to wear one, I wouldn’t. Investing in a decent and comfortable is the only way to go. Take a peek, ladies, at Hotmilk’s massive collection of stylish and oh yes, uber comfortable maternity and nursing bras. Did I mention I have one to giveaway!