So We Finished Breastfeeding

It feels weird to type that... "We finished breastfeeding." I mean, I'm still not entirely convinced we have. It's been a week since David last breastfed but it wasn't a concious decision, more of a 'he hasn't asked and I haven't offered,' situation. But a week is the longest I've not breastfed in the 3.5 years since John was born and it very much seems like David has moved on, thrusting an empty bottle at me as opposed to tugging on my top.

So how do I feel? It's hard to say as I think I'm still very much in denial. I don't know what I expected to be honest. Maybe a, "congratulations on breastfeeding two kids for over 3 years," card or perhaps a, "sorry for your kids growing up and leaving you behind," card would be more appropriate? Either way it feels like the end of an era that is going somewhat unnoticed by everyone but me. Which isn't unreasonable as no one is really aware that we were still breastfeeding; even Iain asked me recently if I still breastfed David as it had become much less frequent and only done whilst settling him for bed, if at all. Even David doesn't seem phased by or to have even noticed the end.

I suppose it was inevitable when I went back to work full time. Most days I'm not there during the day so the opportunity to breastfeed is automatically forfeited. That combined with David now sleeping through most nights and only really having milk before bed, he has less opportunities to even ask to breastfeed. Since the boys started sharing a room we also got into a habit of giving David a little bottle of cows milk on those nights when he doesn't settle after breastfeeding to allow John to get some peace to fall asleep too. And slowly that bottle has taken my place.

I guess I'm glad that David has taken it upon himself to end this journey. John was 3 when he decided he was a 'big boy' and breastfeeding was 'for babies like David,' a conclusion he came to with a bit of encouragement & discussion from myself. I kind of figured David would follow a similar route but this as much as anything shows me just how individual they already are. I've always said I'd like to allow the boys to self-wean and with that you sacrifice a say of your own, whether you too are ready for the end. I guess it was easier with John too as we were tandem breastfeeding, meaning that when he finished it wasn't the end: This time though, there's no more babies, now at least and quite possibly forever.

But it's done. We're finished breastfeeding. Aside from being in denial and a little bit upset at the finality of it, I'm also a little bit relieved. It's been over 4 years now that I've not had my body to myself between pregnancies & breastfeeding; it'll be nice to have that back, regardless of how much I'll miss it. It means I can finally go back on the pill and hopefully once my hormones settle down I can become less reliant on antibiotic treatment for my cystic acne. Plus the addition of under-wired bras to my wardrobe has been welcomed with open arms, even if what they're only holding a shadow of their former selves!





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My Nerves Are Shot

It was obvious from the offset. I was barely 5 weeks pregnant and David was already making life difficult. A Hyperemesis Gravidarum pregnancy should have been a warning that this kid meant business! It carried on right through his birth and into the first month of his life, putting me constantly on edge and fearing for his safety - and that's when he was still just a newborn potato!

Fast forward 20 months and things have followed the same path. My nerves are shot. Kid is a whirlwind. When he's awake, I'm constantly on edge. God love him! He may be the sweetest, cuddliest, cheekiest & smiley-est toddler you'll ever encounter but he's also as-hard-as-nails, with not an ounce of doubt in him, no sense of danger & quite literally the only thing he is afraid of is the car wash. It's as if any kind of genetically programmed dangers that kids are born with, like heights, animals, water & fire, have been missed from David's DNA.

People say that boys can be a handful. This wasn't something we ever had with John. Of course, like any child he had his moments but on the whole, he has been a pretty easy boy. However it's like any kind of stereotypical boy-like natures that John should have also terrorised us with have been squeezed into David making him double the trouble in one happy little chappy with a butter-wouldn't-melt smile.

Be it trying to jump out our first flat floor window or running at flights of stairs with not a moment to stop & think - kid has me living on the edge. Gone are the days of having 30 minutes extra in bed after putting Cbeebies on the telly are long gone, unless I fancy fishing David out the toilet by his feet! Kid is a whirlwind and although he drives me up the wall, I wouldn't change the cheeky grin he gives me when he's up to no good for the world.




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Vlog Stars #2 - A Few of My Favourite Things

Another instalment of Vlog Stars! Who'd have thought I'd keep up a linky for more than one round, especially one that involves vlogging? But I had so much fun doing last months Vlog Stars video that I decided to get involved again this month. I never thought I'd enjoy vlogging as much as I am but I'm really pleased with how this one has turned out.

The topic of this months Vlog Stars is A Few of My Favourite Things. The aim is to name three favourite things from 20 topics in under 3 minutes; I have cheated a little though! And if you do like this video then be sure to subscribe to our YouTube Channel & give the video a thumbs up too. But without further adieu, here is my video for June's Vlog Stars!

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How to Prepare a Preschooler for Immunisations

Immunisations. Does anyone enjoy them? No. The answer is no. I've talked before about my feeling on immunisations before and having dealt with an ill newborn, I'll always take the required steps to protect my boys from preventable illnesses. And like a lot of parenting gigs, I think immunisations is just as unpleasant (if not more) for the parents as it is for the wee ones. In fact, I remember texting my Aunty whilst in the doctors waiting area before John's first immunisations; at the time my cousin was fighting cancer (all good now though!) and saying how amazed I was by her strength as a mother, going through what she was whilst I was a nervous wreck over the prospect of a couple of jags! But we do the best by our children regardless of how unpleasant it can be.

The thing with taking a preschooler for their immunisations is that it's very different than taking a newborn, or even a toddler. By age 3, most kids are pretty savvy and can tell when something's up. And no parent wants to be consoling a distraught preschooler when they are already feeling illogical guilt about bringing their wee one for their immunisations already. So, how do you prepare a preschooler for immunisations?

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Honesty is the best policy.
I was surprised to find out just how many people lie tip-toe around the truth to their kids about immunisations. In fact, one of my earliest childhood memories is of having my own immunisations, with the nurse & my Mum trying to convince me that the sugar cube with the polio drops on was, "just like what I have on my Weetabix." Knowing that I myself would like to know in advance if I was going to experience something new & potentially upsetting, it was important that I let John in on the matter too. On the day I also starting using the word, "jag," as soon as we met the nurse so she too could be aware that John knew what was going on and we asked that she talk him through everything she was doing.

Practice makes perfect.
In my day, Calpol came with a spoon; now though, you get a handy little syringe to make the art of medicine-giving all the more easy. And that little syringe can make preparing for immunisations a fun game. Let your wee one practice on themselves & on you, explaining that they'll get similar at the doctors but it'll give them a bit of scratch when they get it there. You could even opt for a toy doctors set but I find the Calpol syringe to be a little closer to the real deal.

Help them understand.
For John, the moment of clarity came when he realised that getting his immunisations were just like his Aunty Holly's daily insulin jags. However, I know not everyone will have a diabetic relative to make comparisons with but Dr Ranj from Get Well Soon does a great job of explaining why exactly immunisations are important and helps wee ones understand that they're simply an important medicine to stop them getting ill, just like Aunty Holly's insulin does for her!

Use positive words.
We referred to them as, "jags," for no other reason that it was easier for John to say (& in turn ask about) than, "immunisations." We also made a point of avoiding words like 'sore' & 'painful', instead explaining them as a 'scratch' that might 'nip' a little. I also made a the choice to tell John he 'might get a bit upset' and if he 'needed to cry that was ok' but that 'being a scratch I was sure he'd be absolutely fine'. I'd also recommend keeping your own feelings under wraps, although I know this can be pretty hard; if your wee ones senses you're own apprehension, they too will become nervous. Keep it cool, positive and use words they can understand!

Let them see.
Not every wee one has an Aunty Holly who they'll regularly see injecting insulin but if possible, let your wee one see someone being injected beforehand. Be it a routine flu vaccine for yourself or even a documentary of some sort (just be sure to check the reaction beforehand - nothing like someone freaking out over an injection to make a wee one panic at the very thought!). Similar to my tips on potty training, making something seem normal will do wonders for how well your wee ones handles it.

End on a high.
Regardless of how your wee one gets on with their immunisations, make sure you end the experience on a high. Even if they have a meltdown, tell them they were exceptionally brave and that you're proud of them. Rewards are always nice too and it doesn't need to mean a trip to the toy shop; for John it was getting to choose a magazine and a Kinder Egg. Like I say, one of my earliest memories is from my preschool immunisations so you want to make sure that even if it has been a bit traumatic, that your wee one has at least some positive feeling around the event, as well as not having a fear of going back to the doctors ever again!

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Have you gone through preschooler immunisations? What are your top tips to prepare them?

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From The Mouth of a 3 Year Old

I've waited a long time to be able to write this post. There's just something about what 3 year old's say - they're just bloody hilarious! I remember reading Along Came Cherry a while back, laughing at all the funny things Jess had documented Cherry saying and thinking I couldn't wait until John was coming out with his very own array of laughter-enduing phrases. Maybe it's the fact he gets muddled up from time to time, or because most of it seems completely random but this kid has me in stitches on a daily basis.

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"John not like sharks. Sharks eat me."

"Jesus Christ!"

"John likes his juice. It's a wee bit ok."

"Mummy, John watch Tipsy & Tom?"

"John loves his willy."

"I'm not a pest! I'm a menace."

"Daddy - you sing Frozen! Why you not sing Frozen?!"

"This black haggis?" (Black pudding)

[Pointing at a swan]
"Look at that big seagull!"

"Daddy, you put on Tom & Jelly for John to watch?"

"When John's big like Mummy-Daddy, he drive a big van... And fire engine."

"John loves pasta bacon. (Pasta bake). It's John's favourite."

[Looking at my belly button piercing]
"Mummy has ring in her belly. She get another one when she gets married?"

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How To Explain Death to a 3 Year Old

This parenting gig is tough. You can read all the books, ask everyone you know for advice and yet, there will still be times when you're completely stumped with no idea how to handle a situation. And of course, it's sod's law that it'll be a situation where you're barely coping yourself too.

My Papa died a couple of weeks ago. It's shit. We knew it was coming but it doesn't make it any easier. He'd been living with Alzheimer's for a while now and had been admitted to a Community Hospital for a month or so, after things had quickly progressed leaving our family struggling to care for him. I was at work a couple of weeks back when my Mum text me to say he'd been transferred to the Infirmary hospital with pneumonia and that it wasn't looking good. On the 4th April 2015, he passed away. Having visited him just the week before, it was hard to take in. But despite him not really knowing who I was or that I'd even been to visit, I was glad I'd seen him; both before he'd passed but also before his condition had worsened.

Whilst only just accepting the news myself, I was then faced with a dilemma... How do you tell a 3 year old who has been asking to see his Papa Moose for weeks now; that you've already invested time in telling him that, "Papa Moose's not very well and in a hospital," but that it's ok because, "although you can't visit him there, you'll be able to see him when he goes to a new hospital,"; that in actual fact, he's not going to get to see him ever again? Aside from a old guinea pig we lost when he was barely 2 years old, this would be the first time John had ever encountered death. And it was up to me to not only break the news but to also help shape his perception of death as a whole.

Like with most things, I took to the internet for advice and couldn't really find any definitive words of wisdom, so I decided to share my own experience & advice on the subject for those who may find they need it too. I won't deny that I was hesitant in posting this, due to the sensitive nature but I hope it'll at least help someone who is stuck & needing a helping hand in a rubbish set of circumstances.

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Prepare them (if possible).
The very nature of death is that it's unpredictable, so this isn't always possible, although if you have the opportunity to prepare your wee one for what's going to happen, then do so. In our case it was as simple as explaining to John that his Papa Moose was at the hospital, first due to his Alzheimer's (at which point was the Community Hospital for respite) and then when he was taken in due to pneumonia. We didn't take him to visit as I know John wouldn't cope well in this environment but by simply explaining that Papa Moose wasn't well at that he was in the hospital, it meant John could be aware of him not being well.

Choose your moment.
Wait until you're somewhere quiet, able to talk without interruptions (from younger siblings for example - I talked to John once David was in bed) and are in a reasonable state of mind yourself. Avoid times when your wee one is tired, grumpy or otherwise distracted.

Keep is simple.
When I told John about his Papa Moose, the words were along the lines of, "Remember how Papa Moose was in the hospital? Well he was very old and the doctors couldn't make him better when he became sick. Papa Moose died this morning so we won't be able to see him again. We can still love him though and talk about him whenever you want." The thing about 3 year old's is that they're pretty understanding & accepting of what you tell them, so by getting straight to the point, you can tell them what they need to know but also leave the topic open for any questions they may have surrounding it. You know your wee one & what they're capable of understanding; try and tailor it to that.

Be honest with your beliefs.
And don't tell them things that you don't believe. I'm not religious and I'm sceptical about any kind of afterlife. For this reason, it was important for me not to start telling John that his Papa was in Heaven or that he'd "gone to a better place," especially when I'm not sure that I believe it myself. That being said, if these are your beliefs then this is a good opportunity to explain them also.

Avoid using the term, "gone to sleep."
Like I say, 3 year old's are pretty understanding & accepting, for this reason, honesty is best. If you tell them their loved one has gone to sleep, they're likely to accept this at the time but in the long run it can lead to two things: Thinking their loved one will one day wake up and be fine again, or a fear of going to sleep (or of other people going to sleep, such as you) due to a fear of never waking up.

Be ready for questions.
From a simple clarification of what you're telling them, to asking for reassurance that they'll still be able to see other loved ones (in our case, John's Granny Moose). And be ready for them to be asked at any time, even days after the initial conversation. Some may be unexpected also but remember to be honest; if you don't know the answers, tell them that and explain that you'll try and find out - this can give you a bit of time to consider your answers if you're unsure, just be sure not to bury the question under the rug & go back to it when you've figured it out.

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Finally, not so much a tip but important nonetheless; remember to grieve yourself. It's your call whether you do this in front of your wee one or in your own time but it's really important to grieve in the way that best suits yourself. As parents we quickly perfect our brave-face and forget to deal with our emotions the way we need to. But your needs are important too! And if you're reading this whilst looking for answers, sorry for you loss. ❤

Have you had to explain death to your wee ones? Have you any further tips or advice?

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Aunty Holly's Medicine

Every now again, as a parent you witness your kids do something amazing. Something you would have never expected. Something that fills you with pride and awe. A video popped up on my Facebook feed a couple of weeks back, of a baby doing CPR on a first aid dummy - it's quite amazing if you haven't seen it. Days later, David finds a Calpol syringe and sits on the floor, poking it into his belly. It took me a minute to realise what he was up to but I then saw what it was...

Weeks after David was born, my little sister was admitted to hospital and diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It's a pretty rubbish diagnosis for anyone to get, with 4-times daily jags into her stomach, with countless finger pricks a day to check her glucose levels, as well as having to count the carbs in every morsel of food. But what I think my little sister - the boys Aunty - finds the hardest to live with is the misconceptions of diabetes that it seems the majority of the population has.

I'll be first to admit that before Holly's diagnosis, I too never fully understood diabetes, nor what the actual differences between Type 1 and Type 2 were. But when she got the diagnoses, I wanted to know, not just for my own understanding but so I could make sure the boys grew up with an understanding of why Aunty Holly had to have medicine daily and what the little beeping machine she had to check her blood is for.

John has a good understanding already, quietly watching as Holly does her insulin, knowing not to jump on her whilst she does. David, being so young, I assumed would not yet be aware of what diabetes is or that Aunty Holly even has it. And yet there he was, with his very own "insulin," doing exactly as his Aunty does.



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Biggest Little

Dear John, When did you stop being a toddler & start being an actual grown up, independent kid? My little sausage, the way you view the world these days is nothing short of amazing. You're so aware, pointing out the things we would otherwise not notice; from the Police Station sign looking like a checkered race flag, too the fact your Skittles have a "number one" on them...even if sometimes you don't get them quite 100% right!

And the questioning, oh the questioning! You have both Daddy & I demented most days. You want to know, to understand everything. This means we're faced with lots of, "what's that?", "where they going?", and your absolute favourite, "what's their name?" On a daily, perhaps even hourly basis, I find myself telling you that you're like a broken record! Something, like many other things, you often repeat back to us. The fact that you tell David he's a, "wee devil," & "a pest," and that when he poos he's a, "stinker," & that it's, "disgusting," just goes to show that you hear everything! But most of all I love that we can now hold actual conversations. You tell me all about your days at nursery, you can run me through all the names of the characters in Cars and what they do, ("Mater go backwards, Lightening go fast, Francesco go super fast, Holly fly...") and you're always the first to tell on your little brother should he be doing something he's not meant to.

You're also full of cheek. And attitude! There's no ounce of patience in you either. When you want something you'll do all you can to get it. From telling me your bike is broken because you liked the look of another one in the shop, to then saying that your bike isn't actually yours but in fact David's, in another attempt to get that new bike you oh-so want. And when you realise you're not getting it, all hell breaks loose!

But you're a shy wee soul too. I see myself at that age in you. Desperate to try new things but hesitant to do so without the reassuring hand of your Mummy, Daddy or Granny. Despite your otherwise constant questioning & often sounding like a broken record, it takes you a good amount of time to come out your shell around those who aren't familiar. And God forbid we're anywhere with someone in a costume; it's enough to reduce you into what I can only describe as a panic attack. It's not nice to witness but with lots of talking and reassurance you are getting a little better and can manage to be in a large room with one as long as they stay at one end and you're at the other. You've also got a fear of monkeys being in beds after a rather traumatic nightmare whilst we were away over Hogmanay. Again we're dealing with it but you're still very wary about being in unfamiliar beds on your own.

In other big news, you're now sleeping in your own big bed, all night & nappy free. So many big milestones that appeared to happen all at once. We've also finished breastfeeding now, just a week after your 3rd birthday, I knew it was time so one night we decided you were a big boy and didn't need it any more; you never questioned it, aside from asking if David would still have "Mummy's mocks." And you've never asked again since, which I'm so glad for, as despite me missing those moments from time to time, it shows you really were ready.

Love you always, Mummy

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Littlest Big

Dear David, I need to stop calling you a baby because you're so far from one now that it makes me emotional! Gone are the days of the squishy newborn who slept in beside me night after night, now you're a walking, talking, climbing and general wave of destruction toddler! You're also the funniest, happiest and sookiest toddler I've ever met.

First steps have happened but you're still preferring to get about on your knees as opposed to your feet. And I don't blame you; the speed you get whilst crawling in amazing! You'll walk with some encouragement though and the reaction you get for doing so it usually enough to bring on you're stride, especially from your proud big brother who is so desperate for you to start "walking outside like big boy!" Then there's the climbing! You have me absolutely demented with climbing the clothes drier (which incidentally you broke doing so...), the toilet, your high chair, the windows, the [albeit improvised] stair gate, your buggy, he dining table... Basically everything! Your Granny & Daddy even lost you a couple of weeks back when you escaped up the stairs & sat eating stale popcorns from the bin in your Aunties bedroom. Always in search of mischief, you are!

Your personality has very much been confirmed with your choice of first word. "LOOK!" On repeat, 24/7. Between you & your brother, our house is never silent. Whether it's something that has caught your eye or to draw attention to something you're doing, you are forever telling us to look your way. You love being the centre of attention, doing anything you can to get a laugh from people. The class clown as your Granny calls you. You do however know how to stand your ground, making sure your brother is well aware when you aren't in the mood to share, although the hitting & biting that you favour aren't such desirable traits that you have adopted! Particularly given that you're already nearly he same size as your big brother and at the rate your growing it appears you might even overtake him. "Are they twins?" has been asked on a few occasions.

You're so easy going. Happy in any environment, from nursery too visiting friends & family, you charm everyone you meet along the way. But you're also forever scared you're going to miss something, refusing to sleep anywhere other than your bed without a battle, which can be awkward for doing days out with you still having a nap in the morning & afternoon; I can't remember the last time you slept in a buggy! At home though, sleep has greatly improved with even a couple of nights of you sleeping right through. For the most part though, you're up an average of twice a night; thankfully though it's a quick breastfeed and back to sleep.

That little bit of comfort through the night just isn't enough for you though, as you're the cuddliest little sook. Any time you're picked up, you nuzzle into whoever it is, resting your head on their shoulder and holding on with such love. You also follow your Daddy, Granny & I like a puppy, sitting at our feet with your arms stretched right up; God forbid if we don't acknowledge the gesture! And you're definitely a Mummy's boy, something which although sometimes frustrating (such as whilst I'm making tea!) I do treasure so much. Unlike your brother who needs the comfort & reassurance of his Mummy a lot these days, you choose to come to me which makes this whole Mummy gig all the much sweeter. I must be doing something right after all!

So my Little Potato Pudding, don't go changing (except the climbing, feel free to stop that any time now!) and keep up the whole happy little chappy thing you've got going on.

Love you always, Mummy

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Room Sharing with Two Toddlers (& Getting Them to Stay In Bed!)

I love our little house. Little being the prominent word. Because it's small. Very small. And over the past 3 years it seems to have shrunk dramatically! In actual fact, it's not that small, it's actually a pretty decent size but with two kids and a whole lot of toys it usually feels like we've just not enough space. That being said, we still only have two bedrooms. They're by no means small rooms and the boys room can easily house two beds & all their toys, which it has been doing for the past year or so, despite only one boy actually sleeping in there.

John was always reluctant to move out of his cot. Up until a few months ago, he was still in his cot (eventually with one side off) with a big cosy single bed awaiting his change of opinion. It never came. So just after a Christmas, once we were back into the routine of life, I made a snap decision that that would be the night; the night that John went into the single bed & David was served his eviction from our room. The side went back on the cot, the Fireman Sam bed sheets went on the single bed and David's cot in our room was dismantled. And that was that.

I looked at the two beds side by side and thought, "what was I thinking?" A thought that crossed my mind for the first few days of two toddlers room sharing. Here's how we got through those first awful stressful horrendous pleasegoddontputyourselfthoughit challenging days...

Day One.
Who's stupid idea was this? Maybe if I sell a kidney we could move to a three bedroom house...? David goes down no issues. John on the other hand is in the mood for a fight. 20 minutes in and he's woken David up with his nonsense. I now have two toddlers screaming at me and John getting out his bed every time I close the bedroom door, For an hour and half. It gets worse when Iain comes home and both boys scream for Daddy. I give in and end up sitting with them, stroking their tummies until the fall asleep. An hour & a half it took in total but they're both are asleep. We'll try again tomorrow.

Day Two.
Bath is a farce as we've no hot water - cue two boys fussing & after the stress of the night before, I'm dreading bedtime. David is not for settling. I stagger bedtime again, giving David 20 minutes to settle before taking John through. David doesn't settle though and is still wide awake when John goes to bed. It takes 45 minutes of John getting out of bed & David standing up in his cot before they fall asleep. Between putting John back in his bed, I Google for help & come across this post by Alpha Mom - time to chill the F out and get on with it. I can do what I can to get them into bed but I can't make them sleep. I choose to carry on putting John in bed, as there's no way he'll sleep anywhere else - he's never been one to crash out on the floor. He eventually lays down in bed and starts to dose off but David is still fighting it, so I give in and settle him with more boob. Less time & less stress. Let's hope it's better tomorrow.

Day Three.
Our previous bedtime routine isn't working. Usually I'd settle David then chill out with John in his room before he goes to bed, which obviously isn't possible if David's now asleep in the same room. So now it's bath, pyjamas & story in the bedroom, settle David whilst John watches In The Night Garden, join John for a cuddle, then bed for John. The new routine goes smoothly; David settles quite quickly & John happily goes to bed too. It's only 20 minutes of taking John back to bed & David stays asleep the whole time. Progress!

Day Four.
David falls & hurts himself right before bath so the new routine goes out the window after he screams the house down. Settle David without any story or quiet time and enjoy In The Night Garden with John. Take John through & Davids fast asleep. 10 minutes of taking John back to bed, with him asking me to sit with him each time, and it seems like he's asleep. 10 minutes later he's through again asking me to sit with him and whilst taking him back through, David wakes up. Resort to sitting with them both until they're asleep, which takes all of 3 minutes. Not ideal but still the quickest, least stressful night yet.

Day Five.
No way. David settles instantly. Take John through and after a cuddle, I nip out. He comes out his bed twice and then it's silent. He's asleep. Must be a fluke. He's just kidding me. He'll be through any minute now. But nothing. He's actually asleep. They both are!

Day Six was John's birthday when we had his Fireman Birthday Party, so that night went a bit to pot, with David going to bed a little later than normal but with no issues, and John passing out on the sofa. We started up again as normal the next day and if memory serves me right, there was a small battle of taking John back to bed but things went well otherwise. And they have done since.

It's still very much a learning process for all of us. It's definitely easier if David is asleep before John goes through, so now we've taken to waiting until he's out for the count before taking John in. John's now well aware that he needs to be quiet when he goes into bed, even tip-toeing across the room! We've had a few nights where he's not come out at all but generally he'll come through at least a few times, where I'll try to calmly take him back, tuck him in & walk back out again. For the most part it works but it's definitely easier when Daddy isn't there and at only 3 years old, John already knows how to play us against each other. And thankfully, despite David still waking through the night, John sleep through it; in fact, John is now even sleeping through without coming through to our bed like he used to. David's snoring must be easier to live with than their Daddy's...

Do your kids room share? How do you find it?

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3 Years Today

It's hard to believe. 3 years ago today, I first held you in my arms. 3 years ago today you entered this world and in doing so, made me a mother. 3 years ago today I held you close, breathed you in and promised to always look after you.

My Little Sausage, you may drive me up the wall but you're also what roots me to the ground. With each day you grow, my love for you does too. It feels like you've been with me forever, yet the past 3 years have gone in the blink of an eye. And despite any tough times we've had in these past 3 years, there's a million great memories to top them. Like I said 3 years ago today, and every day since, "I love you my Little Sausage."

Happy Birthday, John Scott.

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So, How Are We?

Exhausted. Bloody exhausted. We've hit a tough age, with both boys. John's mastered communicating with the world & now spends 24/7 asking questions. David is so close to walking & so frustrated at not yet being there. And the thing with both boys is, they literally go from zero to 100mph from the moment they wake up, until the moment they're back asleep again. No pausing, no down time, heck, John doesn't even nap any more!

As well as being little whirlwinds tornadoes, both boys are also going through extremely clingy phases. I can't get up to walk out a room without David having a full blown meltdown and I can't sit on the couch for more than 2 seconds without John climbing on me, insisting I cuddle him & do not move. Any time I try & shower I'm haunted by screams and the fear that they will in fact kick the door down (try explaining that one to the landlord!), it's the same should I dare try and pee solo.

I know, I know... I'd be moaning if it was the other way around, if they didn't want cuddles or to be close to their Mummy. But shit, it's hard work. One clingy child is tough, two constantly attached to your leg, screaming should you mutter the words, "just one minute," well it's unbearable a times. And I feel rotten for feeling like that. But I'm just so bloody exhausted. I long for bedtime. I long for 5 minutes to sit and breathe, without being asked to name every character of Fireman Sam, without being bitten or snotted on...

I get that this comes across as ungrateful. I know there's people out there will think I'm being selfish and should appreciate what I have. And I do. I really, really do. But that doesn't make the 4th wake up of the night any easier. It doesn't stop the stress of a nearly 3 year old out screeching in the supermarket because he can't have a sweetie. And it doesn't help with the guilt of knowing I shouted too much today, or that I know I'll be asking if it's bedtime before lunchtime tomorrow.

Obviously, I know this is just a phase. That soon John will be rushing off to ask other people 21 questions, that soon David will be walking & it'll be in the direction away from me. And I know the sleepless night will end one day (please be sooner rather than later!). Until then, expect a loud sigh and "bloody exhausted" when you ask how we are.



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It's Christmas Time

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells... Things are suddenly all go, with Christmas songs being a daily essential! It seems like I've not got a spare minute to pee, never mind blog at the moment, between marzipan-ing mini Christmas cakes, putting together the hampers for our Home Made Christmas, working all the hours I have childcare & trying to keep the house in a reasonable state of affairs. And when I thought I had plenty of time for the usual Christmas prep, we're suddenly just hours away! (Breathe, Amy, breathe...)

Between the madness of life, we have managed to embrace some of the Christmas cheer. From Christmas jumper day, to the boys nursery party and festive bedtime stories, we're definitely feeling a little bit jolly in our household. We actually put our tree up on the 30th of November and despite the fact the bottom of it is permanently bare, it has remained standing - some sort of miracle with two toddlers! John is particularly excited by the thought of putting the lights on in the morning, as well as getting his advent calender chocolates.

Things have been quite obviously quiet here on Diddle Diddle Dumpling due to the festivities but I've big plans for this little blog in 2015. For now though, I expect we'll remain a little quiet as we spend Christmas together as a family but I'll no doubt be back in a week or so with plenty of photos & stories to tell.

Happy Christmas, everyone!

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John's Christmas Wishlist

He's got it. He's well and truly got it. The concept of Christmas that is! Santa in particular. He knows he comes down the chimney, he knows he'll have something left for him to eat & drink and he knows most of all that he brings presents! John now sits with any catalogue and flicks through the pages announcing, "John ask Santa for that one! John want that from Santa! Santa bring John that!" But what does a 2 - nearly 3 - year old really want from the big man in red? These are few things that John has mentioned on more than one occasion and that Santa has heard loud and clear.

Leappad. This is one that I think may save our families sanity! John has recently discovered our phones & his Granny's iPad and would happily spend all day playing Cars: Fast as Lightening. So to save us giving up our own technology lifelines, a kid friendly, eduction-based alternative is definitely a goer.

Balance Bike. Since he's taken so well to his Toddlebike, we think it may be time to introduce a fully fledged balance bike to John. He's so desperate to have a bike like his Daddy and this motorbike inspired one is pretty damn cool. Even if I'm still not convinced his feet will actually touch the ground...

Easel. You know those moments when you think, "Yup, you're definitely my kid." Well John is well & truly taking in his Mummy's steps with his love from drawing, painting & all things generally arty. We've not a great deal of space in our house so a easel that folds away is ideal for those times he wants to get his craft on.

Thomas Take 'n' Play Engines. I've got wind that Santa will be bringing the boys their very own wooden train track and as John loves him a bit of Thomas the Tank Engine, so the Take 'n' Play engines will be a fab addition to the Diddle Diddle Dumpling track.

Penny's Nee-Nawr. This is the one toy that he'll always answer with when you ask John what he wants from Santa. He already has a couple of Fireman Sam engines but he's got his heart set of adding Penny's Fire Engine, "Venus" (aka. Penny's Nee-Nawr) to his collection.

What's on your wee ones Christmas Wishlist this year?

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Two, Nearly Three

My biggest little. You really are a character. This photo was taken throughout fits of laughter, although it may not look like it; only because the rest of them were a blurry mess! You go out of your way to make us laugh. Be it tip toeing across the room as if it makes you & whatever nonsense you're up to invisible to us. Or making funny faces whilst singing All About That Bass. But it's not all smiles & laughter.

You're also well and truly invested in the Terrible Twos, making or some tough times for both of us. It can be something as simple as your truck not sitting the way you want it too, or the bigger things like the library being closed & in turn putting a stop to your plans. There's days when we both cope with it well, dealing with tantrums & meltdowns as they come. But there's also the days when we don't. The days when you throw things at me, that you hit your little brother (with a wooden hammer across the head today, no less!) and you shout & scream to the point I worry the neighbours will call Social Services. The days when I don't have the strength to put you in time out 50 times over so instead lock myself & David in the bathroom, nor the will to explain yet again why it's not ok to hit your little brother; on those days I also worry that the neighbours will call Social Services because of my shouting.

There's plenty of 'advice' on how you're meant to deal with these situations, be it Gentle Parenting or Super Nanny but what they don't tell you is just how bloody tough it can get. When one minute you're the loveliest little boy in the world and the next you act like the actual spawn of the devil, it's a roller-coaster of emotions and I'd be lying if I said I found it easy to keep up. Most of the time we're winging it, doing what we need to do to get through the day. It does mean some days we can be right on the ball, nipping any potential tantrums in the bud. Other days it means bribery, empty threats & shouting from both of us. It's not the perfect balance but it is reality. Sleep deprivation affects us both in ways that mean we cope less favourably with the obstacles of life; of course this problem could be improved if you weren't so determined to drop that last nap! You need sleep, kiddo. You are my son after all.

But you & I, we're getting by. And although these infamous Terrible Twos are tough and seem to often have a dampening affect on what can otherwise be a good day, as long as those laughs & singing are more frequent, we're doing it right. Where you're learning that sometimes you can't always go to the library at 6am & that David is going to want to play with you when you won't always want to play with him, I'm learning to pick our battles and to remember that you're not giving me a tough time, you're having a tough time. Besides, it's not forever; you're nearly three which will bring a whole new set of challenges... The Threenager!


Love you always, Sausage.

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We Made a Video!

I've been wanting to film a vlog for a while now. For one reason another, I've kept putting it off. Last week though, we bit the bullet and did it. Nothing overly exciting, I'm afraid! To kick us off in what will hopefully be a good relationship with vlogging, we did the YouTube Mum Tag.

I'm more confident in my video editing skills than my actual being in a video but hey ho. We also missed out question 10, which I did realise until putting the video together... But such is life. Anyway, have a watch, tell us what you think (please be kind!) and if you do like it you can give it a YouTube thumbs up, subscribe to our channel and even give me some suggestions for another video in the comments!

Diddle Diddle Dumpling on YouTube.

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Potty Training Tips

I still can't quite believe we have a potty trained 2 year old. I still expect to feel his squishy nappy bum when carrying him about but alas it's just his bony wee bottom! I've previously written about our potty training journey as it unfolded (1, 2 & 3) but today I thought I'd offer my two cents and write about Potty Training Tips.

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Start with a baby. Potty training is something that should start long before your wee one even has an ounce of bladder control. I'm not talking about Elimination Communication (far from it) but instead involving your wee one in your own toilet activities from a early age. Make peeing & pooping a social event! Make it something as normal as getting dressed or eating your tea. Don't let it be something  that happens behind closed doors, something to be ashamed of; instead just a normal part of daily life, that everyone does.

Avoid Negativity. That means no, "oh poo - that's smells horrible!" or "aw no, have you pooped?" The aim is to make going to the toilet a positive experience, something that your wee one is happy to participate in. This is another one that can be started whilst still in nappies and carried right through the potty training process. Put a positive spin on everything, even accidents. Stinky nappy? Well done for doing a fab poop - lets get you a new nappy. Peed on the floor? Oh dear, how about you be a big boy/girl and help Mummy clean it up? Poop in their pants? Whoopsy, lets get you some lovely clean pants on & try again next time.

Wait Until They're Ready. Potty training before your wee one is ready will only result in two things - mess & tears! So how do you know they're ready? First there's the physical signs; knowing when they pee/poo, the ability to undress themselves and being able to tell you when they need to go. There's also thinking about it from an emotional point of view; try to avoid potty training when a new arrival is imminent - John first started showing signs of being ready just months before David was born and typically he regressed as soon as he became a big brother, also try to avoid big events that will disrupt routine and lifestyle changes, such as nursery.

Go Straight To Pants. Not only are pull-ups, expensive, they're also a glorified nappy. They don't allow wee ones to know when they've had an accident, nor identify the difference between what a nappy & pants feel like. Of course, you will feel like the washing is endless but when at home let your wee one just go around in pants (or nothing) to cut down on washing and opt for easy to wash clothes like jogger bottoms.

Poop Goes In The Toilet. This was one tip my Mum gave me - when a wee one does a poop in their pants, sit them on the loo & put the poop in behind them (by dropping it out of the pants - I'm not advocating handling human faeces!). This reinforcing the message that poop goes in the toilet.

If All Else Fails, Bribe. Stickers are your best friend. Even sweeties. If it means they'll do it, they can have it! Obviously it's not a long term solution but if it helps them get in the habit when they're otherwise reluctant, it can be a good deal to make.

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Do you have any of your own tips to add? Let me know in the comments!

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An Imagination.

There's many moments as a parent when you stop and think, "I never want to forget this." From the first cuddle, to first steps and all the little moments in between, I've a whole bank of memories that I cherish and cling to. The latest moment - or in fact moments - to happen all involve the development of John's imagination.

The older he gets, the more I see myself in my Wee Sausage. From wanting to draw pictures 24/7, too chewing his sleeves; he's most definitely my son. And as a kid, I had a wild imagination; including imaginary friends & pets, building houses at the bottom of our garden for the fairies and forever playing with dolls & toys, creating a whole, in-depth world of my very own. John's own imagination is going in a similar direction.

He lines up his cars and creates a crash at the front, slowly diverting each car whilst repeating to them, "uh-oh, crash!". He runs around the house, hands in the air, roaring as loud as he can, stopping to tell me he's a dinosaur. On the walk home from nursery he'll take my hand and starting running, telling me Daisy Duck is coming & that she's going to catch us. Stacking up his cars on top of one another and telling us they're broken, just like the ones at the scrap yard. Telling me that the pussy cat we saw on the way home was going for it's tea of fish, that it'd bought from the shop, with pennies from it's Daddy.

A wild imagination that knows no bounds, that reality can't fault. By far the best part of being a kid.



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