Christmas

















Last night.

For the past few nights we've had a new routine. It takes me right back to the beginning, when Lil had just been born and I used to dread the nights with my entire being. Her body clock was topsy turvy so the nights were spent screaming and the days were spent sleeping. At 5pm my heart would sink. 6 o clock was the hour of doom and sometimes it would last what seemed like forever.

So I find myself at this point again. It's 23.18. She falls to sleep between 6.30 and 7pm for a handful of hours and then wakes until 10pm. That's the new hour of doom, when I try to get her back to bed. And just recently to no avail. She screams and kicks and coughs and splutters. And then after maybe an hour she gives in and goes to sleep. But not before I've counted to one hundred very slowly and wondered why the hell I even had a baby. Why does she do this?

Is it because she's been ill? Because she's teething? Maybe because this is a sign of things to come and you'll see me on that 'my kid is a fucking nightmare and won't go to sleep' programme with that supposed super nanny? I'm hoping it's the first one. My patience has been truly tested tonight. And I feel bad when, just for a split second, I think 'you've ruined my life'. Because she hasn't, she brings me so much joy. How can she cause me so much misery at the same time?

I guess that's unconditional love I have right there.

Thank you.

I was taught as a child that when you are given a gift, you send a Thank you card. I shall teach Lilian the same and I'm sure we'll have lots of fun making them but as January is going to be a crazy month for us and I don't fancy wrestling her and a ton of poster paints just yet, I shall buy some ready made.

Luckily for me it wasn't too hard to find some perfect thank you cards for Lil to send!

Caroline Gardner sells the cutest stationary including cards, gift wrap, notebooks.... But here is my pick of the thank you cards for kids to send:







Cute, right?

You can also find them on Twitter and Facebook.

Happy Scribbling xo



Thank you to Caroline Gardner for the images.



PHOTO POST: December




 December is all about yummy hot drinks.


Mulled wine...mmmmmmmm.


Currywurst and mulled wine at the Christmas market in Bristol.


Hotel chillin'.


A glassy eyed, tired Mumma.


Beautiful, beautiful Bath.


  Poorly sick girl.


Hot hot toddy.




Helping with the chores.





New garms for the lady.


Cocktail hour.


MEXICAN (FOOD) PORN


Hijacking a NY cab









Catching up with ST Style Mag




Lil and her pal, Monty.


Tick Tock.

Question: Where the hell does the time seem to disappear to?

As we approach the end of the year I find myself in a panic. The house is a mess, the airing cupboard is overflowing with baby clothes, there are boxes of crap that need sorting, clutter everywhere. What happened to my perfect, organised life? And was it even perfectly organised? I'm suffering from extreme baby brain and cannot remember a thing.

I don't want this clutter. In my brain or in my home.

I can't find the time to do the housework as well as sit and play with Lilian for a couple of hours everyday. I don't have time to write anymore. Where is all this time disappearing to? In to a black hole? Am I just letting it slip by as I sit and watch my daughter try to crawl?

So I've made my first NY's resolution. To declutter. To use my time wisely. I just need a little more of it, please....


The Tummy Bug

So it wasn't enough that we got a bad cold which we had just started to get over and then I find myself with my head down the toilet, throwing my insides up. Yesterday was rough. I couldn't bear to move and not being able to sit and play with Lilian gave me the hump. Naturally, she was the next one to get it and at 4am this morning she was covered in sick. And by covered, I mean covered. It was all over her face, in her hair and eyes and ears. She soaked herself and the bed sheets. She was still sleeping at this point but I had to wake her, she looked a little confused and to my surprised she smiled.

In a panic, I called NHS direct knowing full well what they'd say but I just wanted them to confirm what I was thinking. They did and back to bed we went with towels and sick cloths galore. Now I know she'll get a tummy bug again and a hundred more colds and sore throats and temperatures but because she has never been sick before, aside from a nasty cold, it was a massive shock. I panicked, I said I couldn't handle this. And then I remembered all the mummas that have to deal with their sick baby all the time because all they seem to do is get sick, or the mummas with babies that have serious conditions. This was just a tummy bug! Pull yourself together woman.

At 9am she woke me with her usual slap in the face followed by a massive grin. This kid is a soldier. Way stronger than her mama, 18 hours previously I had been laying in bed groaning that I thought I was dying (it felt like morning sickness all over again). I gotta man up.

Another tick in the book of things you will achieve as a Mother, caring for your vomitting, diahorrea nappied child. About another million things left to experience.

Bring it on (sob).

Hello, Santa?

It's been one helluva year so I thought I'd write you a letter with a few suggestions of what I'd like to find in my stocking 'cause, let's be honest, i've been pretty fucking tolerant and well behaved compared to the last few years...

So pretty please, this is what I'd like...

1. All of Lil's teeth, in her mouth by Christmas morning.

2. Diamonds. Big, fat, shiny diamonds.

3. Lots of lovely new clothes. Mine are falling apart/don't fit/look stupid.

4. For this to be an amazing Christmas with zero stress. I'm already stressing like a mother fucker and it ain't fun.

5. For 2012 to be full of laughter and love and smiles and pedicures and flowers and sweets and candy floss etc etc.

6. Chanel.

7. Help embracing my inner whore. I know she's in there somewhere but I think she's gone all shy on me.

8. Shoes. Lots of shoes.

9. For the internet to stop crashing EVERYTIME I'm half way through a food shop.

10. For my c-section scar to stop hurting. I really don't need reminding I've had a baby. She does that all by herself.

And last but not least, Santa, I want some nice new pert tits to replace my droopy Mum tits. Whaddaya reckon? Oh and some Botox please cause the last lot didn't work.

Thank you Santa.

Kisses,
Charlotte xxxxxxx

One step closer to a gob full of teeth.

Today has been rough.

We got home from our road trip yesterday to discover the heating wasn't working. Hot water, yes. Heating, nada. So I repacked mine and Lil's bags and came to my grandparents. I'm still here.

It's so cosy and warm, it's home. I lived here as a child, as a teenager and as an abandoned 20 something. And now I'm back, this time with a baby. I love spending time with my grandparents but it isn't easy when you feel like shit and the baby is playing up.

I woke up this morning with a cold and after not a lot of sleep I was grumpy. And then we discovered that after a day of peace and quiet (Monday), Lil was teething AGAIN. So cue a lot of screaming, clinging and no naps. All. Day. Long.

I've struggled in the past and found it almost impossible to deal with her teething. But even today with the help of Noo Noo and Grampy, the kid almost broke me.

What they forget to tell you in those baby manuals is that your patience will be tested like you wouldn't believe. It's gonna get so fucking shit that you consider throwing yourself off a bridge. That, at the end of the day and no matter who is around you or what people tell you, you're on your own.

Don't rely on anyone.

CALLING ALL BABY DADDIES:

Whether you're with the Mother of your child or not, KEEP READING.

Being a Mum is a full time job and some Mum's work full time too as well as taking care of their family. Being a Mum is also bloody hard work. Not only do we have to deal with a sometimes trying child/children, we do their washing, ironing, cook their dinner (as well as yours, if we're still together). We take all the shit that is thrown at us (sometimes, literally), help others with their problems, have our hormones to contend with and hardly get time to paint our nails/blowdry our hair/get a pedicure. We give up our selfish routines to serve your child/children.

It would be nice for you to come home from work and show us some love/pick your child up at the weekend with a smile and a thank you. We slog our guts out because you got us up the duff (alright some of us may have planned this and some of us didn't), we count to ten through the kids tantrums, meditate in the bank queue so we don't end up screaming at the baby to 'shut the fuck up for ten minutes' ('Mummy is stressed, darling, please be quiet' - is what we have to say). We do a bloody good job of bringing up the child/ren and we deserve to be shown you are aware that we work our (now larger) backsides off. You don't have to bring us flowers or even spend any of your hard earned cash (and remember, stay at home Mums don't get a salary, we are paid in smiles/dribbles/baby sick), we just want to be appreciated. Leave us a post-it on the fridge telling us to have a good day, send us a text message to tell us you wish you were playing with the building blocks on the floor with us OR ACTUALLY, BUY US SOME FUCKING FLOWERS. Even if you don't love us anymore or even like us, show us that you have acknowledged the fact we do a good job of bringing up the fruit of your loins (ewwwww).

If you do all of this already, pat yourself on the back. If you're a Daddy and aren't appreciated, then cross out Mum and read Dad and tell your wife/girlfriend/ex that you deserve to be appreciated. You work hard.

I am, along with a whole load of other married/engaged/cohabiting/divorced/separated/no longer together with the Daddy/Mummy of the child/ren Mums and Dads, tired of not being appreciated. I did not go through nine months of hell followed by another few months of pain, depression and misery for this.


If you haven't already, you're going to lose them. If you've already lost them, then you've lost the best thing you ever had (sorry to quote Beyonce, silly bitch is taking all the good cliches).

Think about it. What is a post-it note if it means you're putting a smile on the face of your child's Mother?

And then there were four.

What a week.

We had to say goodbye to Alfie, our family dog of 17 years, on Tuesday. Absolutely heartbreaking.

Wednesday was just miserable so it was great to see my best friend on Thursday morning with her big, cheerful smile. You only have to look at her and you're in a better mood. We went to watch Rihanna at the O2 in the evening and it helped me with the decision of reinventing myself for the new year. Next year I shall channel classy slut, if there's even such a thing, a la Rihanna, watch this space.

Today we made a mad dash to the hospital after a rash appeared on Lil's face. I was surprised at how calm
I was this time and felt pretty lucky when I saw the babies who were in the A&E department hooked up to machines. The parents must have been in such a state. She has a viral infection, apparently there is a lot of this going around, which was a relief. I'm surprised I don't have a full head of grey hair by now.

And finally, Lil has a new addition to her gob. Another tooth. So that makes four.

Normal posting will resume next week.

Bedtime.