New Year, still fabulous.

New Years Eve and I’m sat in an oversized teeshirt, baggy sweats, watching Grey’s Anatomy and sipping prosecco because why the hell not. Both kiddies are asleep, which is nice as we seem to have had illness after illness at the moment. Colds passed between everyone for weeks, bronchitis, conjunctivitis and now tonsillitis.

G  took his first steps at 9 months and 13 days and is now walking all over the place, completely proud of himself with the biggest, cheesiest grin on his face. It is ten out of ten adorable.
He’s so different to E as a baby. He’s definitely not as independent but ohmygoodness is he a cuddler. Serious Mummy’s boy. If he wasn’t so freaking heavy I’d love it even more than I do but as it is I end up with a sore hip and dead arms by the end of the day. I have a sling that I really need to start using more often than I do.
He has six teeth now and his favourite thing to do is chew my chin. He will literally lunge at me, grab my chin with his mouth, pull my hair so I can’t move and laugh his head off. He’s like one of those things from Alien. A facehugger. A cute giggly facehugger.
All the while I’m laughing too but it really hurts so I’m also trying to prize open his tiny hands that are vice gripped around my hair. By this point, E thinks we’re playing a massive game and jumps onto my shoulders, clinging onto my neck, shouting “GIDDYUP MUMMY!”
Yeah it’s a great game.

E is going to be an artist. Or a paleontologist, or an astronaut if you consider her other loves….peppaologist?
I honestly sit there Googling “what should my child be able to draw at (insert months here) ” about 5 times a day. She drew me a fish in water yesterday people. That’s gotta be advanced right? I mean, a fish. In water. IN. WATER. Yes the fish was just an oval with an eye, but still. she coloured in the blue water around it and drew WAVES and I’m calling it. child genius.
She has two pretty good artists for parents (I use the term ‘pretty good’ loosely, I am no Monet) so she was bound to get it right?
I don’t mean to harp on about it, but also – she draws pupils in eyes, Granted, they’re just a dot in the middle of a circle, but come on!

Anyway, I’ll stop gushing over my childs CREATIVE GENIUS and move on.

Christmas was great. E’s first Christmas where she actually knew what was going on, although slightly confused at first with the concept of an old man coming in whilst everyone was asleep..this was soon accepted when I mentioned he would be bringing her presents.
Must do the stranger danger talk soon…
Her face when she saw his footprints in the amazing, magical, non melting, North (or is it South?) Pole snow aka talcum powder, was an absolute picture. Despite what we had told her, Father Christmas didn’t leave her a lump of coal and did actually bring her a fairly large amount of presents! Not sure with how well this is going to go for us in future though, may have to come good with the coal threats occasionally!
G was a typical baby – wrapping paper and boxes? Winning.

As I’ve been writing this, it has become 2017. I am 30 THIS YEAR. What happened? I genuinely still feel 21 *cries*. I shall most certainly be channeling Joey Tribiani come December 15th. My dearest hubby always says, “We’re almost dead. Best years of our lives are over. It only gets worse from here” but he is a grump. So this year I am making a list. Not resolutions, but 30 things to do before I’m 30. 30 before 30.
Now I just need to come up with said list…



When children get no sleep..

You know everyone’s favourite saying for a new parent, ‘sleep when they sleep’? You know how you sort of poo poo this with your first baby, e.g. “well when is the cooking and cleaning going to get done” etc?
Totally changes with baby no. 2.
Sleep when they sleep? Hell freaking yes. Absolutely. Show me the bed. If you are lucky enough to experience the magical moment when both of your babies sleep at the same time, you must sleep too. It’s imperative for your sanity’s sake.
I know I harp on about nap times a lot but there is a reason I have started with this today.
That dreaded moment all parent’s fear has occurred. E has dropped her naps. *sobs*
There wasn’t even an ease into it so I would know it was coming and be able to prepare myself for the heartache. No warning. Nothing. Just, one day she had a three hour nap, the next, point blank refusal and my child was taken over by a demon. I feel like I’m in mourning over the death of a loved one.
Come 4pm, the tiredness really shows it’s hold over E and she hates everyone and everything. I try and win her over with “Do you want to see Daddy? Daddy’s coming home today!” “NO. I NOT SEE DADDY” (She does want to really)  and at that point, it’s best to let her tantrum play out whilst crying  thinking  to myself “well you should have bloody gone to sleep then!”
Toys get thrown, doors get slammed and feet are stomped.
It’s clearly very hard work being a two year old.
This would be fine if she slept through. She used to, she used to be an angel with her sleeping and nap routine but because Daddy isn’t home, things are turned upon their heads. Now we have a regular 2.30AM request of Pokoyo (some random kids show which is surprisingly quite funny) and milk. I don’t give in to Pokoyo but I do get the milk. This may be creating a habit but at 2.30, sleep deprivation and the risk of a smaller baby waking up are higher on my priority list.
Thankfully G has a pretty solid sleeping routine, brought in by himself! Good two – three hours in the morning, then bed at 6pm till morning. This doesn’t usually waver unless, those bastard teeth or if I trip over things on my way out after going in to gaze lovingly at his gorgeous sleeping self. I trip over / knock into things more times than I would like. You’d think I’d learn / pick up the crap from the floor.

We’re heavily in to weaning with little G now. I forgot how messy baby led weaning can be! I mean, seriously. We went out and gave him tomato pasta – it was like it had exploded and hit everything. Granted it was my fault as I hadn’t brought a bib but in my defence, it was a pretty impromptu decision to go out for food whilst on a ‘quick’ trip to the shop. I love it though, he looks so hilarious proud of himself sucking up those strands of sphagetti!
Also, BLW makes for some serious contenders for the ’embarrassing photos of when you were a baby’ award. He’s gonna hate me when he’s older.
We try where we can to buy organic and make everything fresh but sometimes, I don’t care. Like, I really don’t care. Exhaustion changes you to your very core. I caught E licking water from the dog bowl and eating the dog food the other day so I’m not sure she’s really that fussed either.
Since the food started, he dropped quite a lot of his milk feeds. I also had a wedding to go to which meant he had over 24 hours of bottle feeding and definitely decided he preferred the bottle. He then started to wean himself off of breastfeeding at around 6 months and completely at 7 months. I had high hopes for continuing to a year but clearly G had other ideas. My boobs clearly just weren’t good enough for him! I still express which to be honest is a complete pain in the arse and I’m barely making an ounce a time (used to be at least 5 ) so the whole thing feels pretty unfruitful. I am determined that one way or another though, he will get some God damn booby milk! Even if I only have enough for a bottle once every 3 days!

That’s my lot for today. I’d like to say that I’m off to bed but I have about 7238954 cleaning jobs to do and the shop shuts in half hour (icecream is needed to complete said cleaning tasks.)

Ciao x




A bit of honesty.

Let’s just take a moment to talk about newborn photos. Yes, the gorgeous, squishiness of a new baby looks adorable in any photo but what about me?
What about me, the mum who now has a double chin from weight gain and a flabby belly from, well, the obvious. What about the bags under my eyes and the poor make up application because I had about 5 mins to do it in between screaming babies? What about my thinning hair, because I swear I’m going to go bald fairly soon?
People say “love your body”, “you look amazing”, “you’ve just had a baby, go easy on yourself”. The thing is, I don’t mind how I look! I actually think I look fairly decent but in photos with professional lighting that picks out ALL YOUR FLAWS, I look like a drug addict going cold turkey. Lighting like that should NEVER be allowed. I went in to the shoot thinking I looked nice. I went home thinking it was successful. Then the photos arrived. I literally could have cried. I know babies make you emotional, but still.
G man looks super cute. How couldn’t he? Have you seen him? Cuteness personified. M looks good. E looks mischievous. I look terrifying. I literally look like I’ve been up all night (I probably had) and hadn’t seen the sun, since, ever.
I’m sure most of you who have these shoots have gorgeous photos and love them.  In fact, I’m sure everyone who’s had a newborn shoot looks gorgeous with their bubbas. I however seem to be the exception to the rule. My pregnancy glow has well and truly gone. (debatable as to whether it actually ever came tbh)
Seriously. The fact that I had a double chin came as a complete shock to me. I was like “woooahhhh…I have chins. Plural.” Double chins are fine btw, just not on me. They do not suit me. As proven by this photo shoot.
I want a nice family photo of us all where I don’t look like a gutsy hobo Marc and the kids have taken in off the streets.
God damn you ice cream and milk shake cravings! (I don’t think these were actually legitimate cravings, maybe I was just being gutsy.)
To end, I would post a photo of myself from said photo shoot for you to see what I’m talking about, but no one deserves that torture, so have one of G man instead.



Bribes, tantrums and cuddles.

When you wake up in the morning you have a decision to make. Do I do my hair and makeup so I actually look like a functioning woman who has her shit together, or do I leave it for the hundred other jobs I have to do today?
The latter usually wins out in my case.

We went for a walk yesterday and when we got back, I looked in the mirror. My ponytail had bits coming out everywhere from where George had pulled it out. I had baby sick all down one shoulder from an earlier burping incident and on closer inspection, the seat of my jeans had some yellowy stain on it. I’m assuming/hoping banana. Marc let me go out this. This is the norm for me now so he didn’t think anything of it. I’m glad I barely know anyone here. Jeeze.

So yes, every morning I have the option of getting up that little bit earlier whilst they’re all asleep so I can perfect my eyebrow arch, or sleep a bit longer and wake up in a panic to one child screaming and about to wake the other up, throwing on husbands joggers to find I have them on backwards but THERE IS NO TIME to put them on the right way and grabbing any top that’s nearby – usually covered in sick, snot, or dribble – or if you’re super unlucky, a combination of all three.

Today is one of the looking like a crazy person days. I’m praying one of them has a nap before the delivery man comes today so I can at least cover the dark pits underneath my eyes.

George just coughed sick INTO my mouth. My life ladies and gentlemen.

George is 5 months on Sunday. WTAF. He’s supposed to be my baby forever. How has this happened?
He’s so different to E as a baby. He doesn’t sit up (very well) yet or have any teeth but he loves grabbing things with his hands and playing with his feet. E didn’t use her hands till food was put in front of her. Priorities.
He’s a super chilled baby although he’s decided he likes to be held for the majority of the time. Who can blame him. I’d like to be carried around all the time if I could. My sling has been a Godsend but he’s getting a bit heavy for it now.
G is a proper little porker. He keeps flitting between the 75th and 91st percentile. I’m having to express twice a day so that I can give him a full bottle at bed time as well as a boob feed. Seriously. I hope this isn’t a sign of things to come or we’ll have to take out a loan just to feed him.

Elizabeth, oh E, my little diva child. She is becoming more and more independent, if that’s even possible. I am not looking forward to the teenage years. For all her tantrums and strops, she’s actually been a little sweetie pie. She put all her toys away yesterday without being asked. It’ll probably never ever happen again. She’s been giving G man lots of hugs and kisses too which is lovely. Actually been mega impressed with her this week, we tried mackerel and calamari for the first time  – loved it! She did get extremely upset with me though when we ran out of fruit…..she kept listing them. “melon? apple? banana? ” at least she’s crying because it’s fruit and not over chocolate. The crying has taken on a new level though. Louder and shriller. I’m not sure if this is a result of M being away Monday to Friday or just a progression of the terrible twos.


We had our first solo outing today! Only to Homebase to get some flowers to plant in the garden, but I’m counting it as a major achievement. Especially since I had to have E out of the pram and walking freely. It could have been a disaster. She could have decided to play hide and seek in the shop or just plain run off like she normally does but I was prepared. My secret weapon? Chocolate. Yes, I was one of those “I’m never going to bribe my child” childless women. Now I understand. You do not reason with a two year old. You can play to their good side, until they get tired, then BAM. Game over. The chocolate bribes come out and man do they work. I had to really stretch them out (because I’d already eaten the rest) but she was fab and was even happy enough to carry some pots for me.
When at the till, did she shout “CHOCOLATE” at me? Yes. Did I care that I was getting disapproving looks from the obviously childless people in the queue in front of me? Nope. I’d had a successful trip with two kiddies on my own. Nothing was bringing me down.

Anyway. It has taken me 10 hours, 2 cups of tea, a can of Pepsi , a bowl of ice cream (my lunch), two clothes changes and a short nap to write this. Hopefully it’ll be a bit quicker next time!


Bring on the fun

If I thought updating was hard work after one baby, finding the time with two, I seriously don’t know how people do it. When I have a free moment, it’s my ice cream and catching up on trash TV time or “cleaning”. I do a lot of “cleaning” that involves me doing the laundry, then sitting on the bed and not being able to get back up. It’s a regular thing. The house is….lived in and well loved.

The little dude, Georgie Porgie, is 4 months now. He is such a chunk  He’s been piling on the pounds like no-ones business (clearly it’s all the ice cream I eat, so I obviously can’t stop now) and is currently, at 4 months, in his 6-9 month clothes. Seriously depriving me of my newborn baby stage, but he’s mega cute so I can deal.
He is a serious smiler, loves to coo and only really cries when he’s hungry. We thought we lucked out with Lizzie! He’s even more chilled out than she was. His sleeping pattern is pretty good too. It used to be 7pm – 5am but it’s just recently changed to 10pm – 5am (including a dream feed). Gross alert – he only poops about once every two weeks though so we get some serious poonamis when he does.
He’s just found his hands and loves to pick up toys and grab for things,  which Lizzie never really did till food was put in front of her at 6 months.
They look so similar but are so different already personality wise!
Elizabeth loves playing with him but has started to get a little more boisterous now. She is usually lovely and gentle but when she’s tired or frustrated she gets a bit more handsy and grabby.


I’ve been trying SO HARD to keep up with the cleaning. Marc works away from home Monday to Friday so it is a lot trickier to juggle everything but for the first two weeks of his new job, you should have seen the place. Mrs Beeton and Delia would have proud. Jessica. Mother, wife, domestic Goddess extraordinaire. It was lovely waking up to a spotless house. However, Georgie’s bedtimes then got later and Lizzie decided she didn’t like sleeping at night. There is now an abundance of “I’ll do that tomorrow”piles and “Marc can do that” lists.

The last couple of weeks I’ve found particularly hard. Lizzie hasn’t wanted to nap or go to bed and has been up  late most nights. This means she’s basically miserable all day and a miserable Lizzie is mentally exhausting. It’s been a juggling act of dealing with one then the other etc. etc.
Also, because Marc is away during the week, only having a toddler who’s favourite word is “no” for conversation has taken it’s toll. By Tuesday evening I’d already had two breakdowns.
So, we (I) decided to have a change.
We went to a play group on Wednesday morning and then a soft play in the afternoon. I gave up on trying to clean the house constantly as I go. It wasn’t working so I left it all *gasp* ! On Thursday we went to toddlers play in the morning and spent the afternoon in the garden playing in the pool. It was the first time in days that I’d actually had fun with the kids. It was like a revelation and a guilty secret at the same time. Less time on the chores and more one to one FUN time with the kids makes a happy mummy and happy kiddies. It should be so obvious!
I’m petrified to take them both out further than the play groups on my own because of Lizzie’s occasional wild child twoligan tantrums but I’m going to attempt it this week. Hey, they say to do something every day that scares you – this will definitely be it for me!

I left Georgie (and Lizzie) for the first time ever this weekend with Nanny and Grandad. I’ve not even left him for more than ten minutes before so it felt very strange. I knew they would both be fine but I knew I would miss them (more than they would miss me!). It was my first night out in a year so I feel it was well deserved and long overdue but I was almost wishing at one point I wasn’t going. We went for afternoon tea and had a night out. I only knew the bride to be but the other ladies were fab and it made it a really enjoyable night. Plus, the highlights of my night – getting ID’d, THREE TIMES (YES!!)  and being told “great cheekbones”. All that contouring practice…. I got skillz. Makes me look super young. Clearly.




Shortly after Elizabeth’s first birthday, we had a little bit of a happy shock.


I have recorded (very badly) Marc’s, my parents reactions, and have a recording of Marc’s mum’s reaction. I will get them on my YouTube and post the links here when I can. They are absolutely brilliant – you’d think Marc had just been told his dog had died (he is excited..kind of..)!

Our due date is Feb 3rd so only 5 weeks to go. I was back down to a size 10 for the first time in years just before I found out too! Damn.

To say I am crapping myself is an understatement. Labour. Oh God.

I’ve not helped myself and just reread my ‘Labour’ post after Lizzie too.

Thankfully, I haven’t had anaemia this time, just the usual amount of sleeping and naps. Our diet is a lot more varied though now that we have Lizzie- even though it was pretty good before, so I’m assuming that will have a lot to do with it.

The heartburn….oooh the heartburn. I did not miss that. If you don’t get heartburn constantly rushing up your throat like molten lava, aren’t sick in your mouth at LEAST once a day and don’t have to guzzle Gaviscon like water, then don’t come to me with your “oh yeah, I sometimes get heartburn” comments. YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND.

Rib pain. If you have ever been pregnant, you know what I’m talking about. Jesus. Why does sitting down have to be so painful? Why can’t pregnant people get a break?! Every time I sit down, it feels like my ribs are destroying my organs, and then just for a laugh, bambino decides to give me a hefty kick there too.

Exercise wise – I was determined this time to continue going to the gym and running. Nope. It turns out, I have had mild Sacroiliac joint pain since the end of my previous labour, that has not gone. It basically means that the joints in my bum haven’t healed properly since labour….now they hurt like hell. Joy!
It wasn’t until I got pregnant again and it seemed to be getting progressively worse that I spoke to the midwife about it.
Now I’m lucky if I can walk for 20 mins without hobbling or being in agony. Pregnancy is a beautiful thing!
I’m going to a physio, but have been told, especially if I breast feed again, that it could take up to 18 months for me to be able to do what I was doing exercise wise, before I was pregnant, in order to heal properly.
I am going to be sooooo unfit. /cries
I’m actually envious of everyone posting about their post Christmas runs. I never thought that would happen. Stop doing it to me guys.

I have had absolutely no cravings. Do you know how disappointing that is? People I know have craved coal, pickles, ice cubes and even bleach – and I get nothing. I feel a little left out. I want to be able to say I craved some weird concoction of boiled egg and icecream, or something similarly disgusting. I have 5 weeks to go….it could still happen. Until then, I’ll just keep telling Marc I’m “craving” Ben & Jerrys icecream.




Maternity jeans make it all worth it. seriously. I’m not even joking.

I feel like my last post was just moaning about pregnancy – but hey – this is my baby blog, and it has been pretty dire. I have not had ‘the glow’. I have had heartburn 24/7, exhaustion, headaches, mood swings and acne. The glow is a total LIE!

However, maternity jeans. OH MY GOSH. Where have you been all my life? These beauties would  have come in handy so much at Christmas dinners, Sunday lunches, hell, lets be honest, every meal I eat.
I can’t even describe how comfortable they are. They will certainly be staying in my wardrobe after pregnancy. I don’t even care.

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