Love of My Life...really?

FreddieB Status


DAY:  33
Hrs of Sleep:  7 1/2 (for me, Love of My Life on the night shift)
Feeds:      6 per 24 hours
Nappies:  Unknown
Weight:   Unknown


Do all Mums think they've made a terrible mistake?  Think that maybe, the 'Love of Their Life' isn't actually in fact the 'Love of Their Life'?  Or is it just me....?  Four weeks into FreddidB being born and I think I'd rather be sharing a house with Adolf Fucking Hitler! 


Seriously.  I remember the day so clearly...I'd just arrived at my London desk from a drunken weekend in Nottingham.  I frantically typed out the words to all my friends 'OMG!  I've met the man I'm going to marry and have three children with.  You HAVE to get me his number'.  I'm wishing my closet friend hadn't bothered calling all the builders merchants with a Nottinghamshire postcode, asking if my future husband worked there. How could she succeed at such a 'needle in a haystack' task?  


Apparently being on maternity leave isn't all about bonding with your child/children.  It's about 1950's 'How To Be A Good Wife'.  You know the things - cooking, cleaning, darning socks and anything else that 'Love of My Life' feels is beneath him.  But, in this world of equality he also wants me to work...and not part time and some little corner shop.  A proper job with responsibilities.  

So today, apparently I have 'sat on my arse' all day!  Really?  Is this what I've really done?  The pots cleaned themselves did they?  Your children, aged one and four weeks dressed themselves?  The washing washed itself and then hung itself on the line?  The bed made itself too?  Oh, and I suppose your one year old cooked her own lunch and dinner and also sorted out Freddie's feeds?  What a fucking Bewitched household we live in!


And, whilst I'm typing this?  Where the fuck are you?  And, where were you last night?  And where will you be all day Saturday?  Some poxy football ground, cheering on some non-premier team who will undoubtedly lose!  And you have the nerve, the audacity to tell me that I 'palm the children off' because I left first born with her Grandma for five hours yesterday.  


That 'needle in a haystack' friend, do me a favour, next time I tell you to GET ME HIS NUMBER, tell me to GET A FUCKING LIFE!

Not Living The Dream...

FreddieB Status:

Day:                 22
Sleep:              Me, 7 hrs / love of my life, 4 hrs
Feeds:              8
Nappies:           9


Things are not getting easier in the 'House of Love'.  FreddieB is still not in any kind of routine - he feeds when he wants, there's no set time or set amount to how much he will drink.  He's still breaking all the rules.  He won't sleep in his moses basket, when he does sleep (mostly during the day) he grunts so no one else can sleep and every evening at 8pm he turns into 'Damien'.  Plus Edie wakes up at 10pm every night crying and then again at 130am, so she ends up in bed with whoever is not looking after FreddieB.  YES, I know earth mothers, it's a mistake, but I'm not going to leave a one year old crying, stressing herself, waking everybody up when she can slip in to bed with her Mum or Dad and everyone can sleep.

So, possibly my coolest friend called from London to say her sister had two children under one (imagine that?!?!) and my blog always sounded like I was having a lovely time...Hmmm.  I work in PR, it's my job to make things sound good, but this two children lark is actually hard work.  Okay, love of my life can now sleep with both eyes closed  - the urge to kill him has subsided and I've managed to get showered and dressed every morning and at least put mascara on. So, maybe things are getting better...? 

Week Two was seriously hard. I would have quite happily left love of my life and faced life as a single parent.  And, I don't really know why.  He's was 'doing his share', but everything he did wasn't good enough and I was boring myself with the sound of my own voice, moaning at him.

In the three weeks that FreddieB has been born, love of my life and I have slept together twice, I think, in the same bed. I miss him. We have a weekend away planned in December, no children and the ways things are going, that will probably be the third time we share the same bed.   Contraception will be taken (not necessarily used, we're sooo over that phase!!!)

Mother Returns To Work....

FreddieB Status:

Day:        20

Sleep:     9hrs (Whoo-Hoo, I went to bed at 9pm and 'love of my life' did the night shift)

Feeds:     ??

Nappies:  ??

So, yesterday after 15 days away from my once, first love - The Office, I returned. Slightly nervous I guess, and maybe a little too 'dolled up'.  Although the baby blubber is still lingering (and some shop assistant even said 'Oh, not long now...' even though I had the pram in front of me with a two week old Freddie sleeping peacefully), I felt a I should make the extra effort to prove to my colleagues (and myself) that I was coping, despite having two children under the age of two. 


Usually such effort would only be put in to my appearance if I had a) not been to bed and b) was so hungover I still had the makeup on from the night before.  I remember once drinking with the 'like minded' colleague from the office in a gorgeous, memorable drinking den called Crazy Bear, just off Tottenham Court Road.  For anyone who has ever been to the Crazy Bear, they will understand why I left with a diamond-shaped door knob in my bag after visiting the toilets! 

After way too many wines and some god awful shot that sent us all way over the edge, we decided that we should head across town to the ELLE Style Awards.  Like minded colleague thought she could blag us in (that whole invincible, drunk thing was going on).  By this time, we'd also managed to meet up with another friend who had been walking his dog on Primrose Hill and came to meet us in Crazy Bear wearing a muddy track-suit top and dog-walking jeans.  So the three of us hopped in cab...I can't really remember the details, apart from A) we all managed to get in, B) lots of champagne and us three being the only three dancing and C) dog-walking friend snogging a high profile celebrity DJ. 


Like minded colleague and I left, with me telling the cab driver that I'd seen the warnings about the unlicensed taxi drivers and questioning him if his intention was to rape us...!? 


I remember waking up twice in the night to a ringing mobile, dog-walking friend was calling me, well Will Young and Duncan James was calling me from his mobile.  Yes, that's right.  Dog walker had stayed, somehow managed to talk to them and get them to call me?!?!?!  I think I actually put the phone down on Duncan, Will I gave more time because I've always had a soft spot for him.  


The next morning, I woke.  Like minded lay perfectly still next to me, dressed in yesterday's work clothes and full face of make up.  I don't think she even brushed her hair before we both jumped in a cab to work, windows open.


So, the feeling of returning to work, felt a little like that - minus the hangover and the realisation that I'd put the phone down on Duncan James.  


My day flew-by and I actually felt completely relaxed when I returned home.  Even though the bed wasn't made and there may have been a few pots in the sink.  Love of my life even commented on my mood being a good one.  I therefore think it's only fair to plan another day in the office, maybe next week...?

Breaking All The Rules...

FreddieB Status:

Day:         18
Feeds:      3 since 1am
               (incidentally he had 8 feeds yesterday, the 'guidelines' say he should be having
               5!)
Nappies:   4 since 1am
Hrs sleep: 4.5 (for me, 'love of my life' still snoozing)

I've never been one for doing things by the book.  And, maybe this is my comeuppance (as my grandma would have said). 

I very rarely turn up on time, if there's a quicker, more obvious way of doing things, even if it's ever-so-slightly illegal, I will.  I have points on my licence (because I'm always late, I have to speed), I pay over the odds for concert/comedy/event tickets because I never actually buy them when they go on sale, instead I encourage touts to rip me off through the likes of EBay.  The author who wrote 'How to Make a £1m On Ebay'...I probably funded that book alone! And, when it comes to motherhood, I don't breastfeed, I heat bottles/food up in the microwave and I don't boil the kettle 30 minutes in advance so the formula milk hits the water at exactly the right temperature.  (BTW, how do the formula milk people figure this out - my kettle does not necessarily boil at the same temperature as the other 30 people living on my road.  Surely it depends on the kettle?)

So, doing things within the boundaries of the 'red tape' has never been my thing. 

HOWEVER...

When I read the guidelines on the side of the Aptimal box that said something like, 'when your baby is 2-4 weeks old, he should be feeding every four hours', I was positively excited. That meant I could go to bed at 11pm and get four hours sleep until 3am.  I couldn't wait, I even treated myself to clean pyjamas. I was so convinced about my four hours sleep, that when the moaning started at 1am, just two hours later I didn't hear him.  'Love of my life' kindly woke me to see if I wanted him to do the feed?! (Why wake me if you want to do it?.

So I stomp downstairs, convinced that breast feeding would have been easier and vowing never to use Aptimal again. Liars!

FreddieB then wakes again at 4am for more food and doesn't sleep until his next cry for food at 6am!  Hence my early morning post.

Is a breaking all the rules attitude hereditary?  Have I created this?

Full Time Father Returns....

FreddieB Status:

Day:17
Feeds: 3 since 1.30am
Nappies:  3 since 1.30am
Hrs Sleep: 4

Days of debauchery are still working well for me.  Another night of four hours sleep and I'm feeling positively motivated.  Before 9am this morning I'd done the bottles, fed both children and had a white wash, washed and blowing freely on the washing line.

Unfortunately, the same can't be said for 'love of my life'.  Who at 3.30am after FreddieB had been continually crying, stirring, moaning and generally causing much fuss, decided to move downstairs to get away from the noise!  He'd only been in bed two hours after first born, Edie had demanded that her Dad squeeze into her standard sized cot with her.

Today, was a big day too.  Love of my life, (aka full-time father whilst on paternity leave) returned to work.  At first, and before the eight hours sleep in two days, I was ever-so-slightly jealous.  I've always loved my job as a PR and why wouldn't I?  During my early twenties I had a sporty little company convertible, a salary that allowed me to be frivolous and a job that involved talking about lip gloss, eyeshadow and anti-aging moisturiser all day. And in my early thirties I was in London, working for a 'celebrity hairdresser' in Central London, earning more money (still spending more than I earned) and travelling to some great places (and missing a few flights!).   So this whole maternity leave doesn't sit easy with me.  After a particularly bad few days with FreddieB last week, I actually uttered the words to 'love of my life' ..."I might go back to work early".  He smiled, looked at me and said "That's why you're in a mood isn't it?"  And, I think (for once) he was right.  That's when I started the blog.  Selfish as it sounds, I can't just be a Mum. Edie and Freddie's Mum.  I need something else....

Party Before Parenting....

FREDDIE STATUS:


Day: 16
Weight: NWD
Feeds: 3 from 2.00am until 10.00am
Nappies:  4 from 2.00am


In my intro, I said that my days of debauchery set me in good stead for being a parent. Last night, I got to sleep at just gone 4am, thanks to an ever-feeding FreddieB. He woke again at 6am for more food.  Fell back to sleep 715am and woke again at 9.20am, so I've had approximately four hours sleep.


Three years ago, I would have taken that four hours sleep and reduced it to two, maybe even one. The late-night boozers of Belsize Park and Chalk Farm would have seduced me to haggle with myself over how much sleep I needed.  Often going in to work with no sleep at all, my computer screen, once at my desk was just a blur.  But, this was an office shared with two like-minded girls, so I was never feeling the pain alone. 


I remember once, a colleague calling the press office at 10.00am (we started at 9.00am) her first words 'FUCK!'  Don't let on it's me.  Give me a price for Moisture Seal Shampoo'  I replied, professionally with £4.99. OMG, she continued.  I've just woken up at The Dorchester.  What shall I do?'  I'd been with her until 4.00am - how the hell did I know what to do, I could barely speak without pain. 

She'd spent the night in a very expensive Dorchester Suite, which we'd (the company) had hired for the BAFTAs, paying for bottles of vodka she couldn't afford, drinking with some very A list stars and like any girl in her twenties, didn't want to miss this opportunity to mingle with one of the hottest A listers around....


I can't remember how we got her out of the situation, probably made up some 'journalist' appointment.  But that's how we rolled and very successfully!


So, this morning on my four hours sleep, I feel positively 'well'.  Both children are now sleeping peacefully (obviously!), 'love of my live' is jaded, mumbling that he's 'never been this tired' and I'm ready to do it all again, the baby nightshift, not the Dorchester/Belsize Park/Chalk Farm experience....

DAY15 / WEIGHT: No Weigh Day (NWD) / Nappies: 8/20 hrs / Feeds:8/20 hrs

So, today after seven days of being home-bound (not because of the stitches, labour, giving birth process) because of the trauma of the 'double buggy syndrome' I, armed with 'love of my life' and two children leave the house.  And, okay we only left the house for a couple of hours to visit relatives, but still...this is a social outing for my now, very clear and blank diary.

The double buggy didn't come on the social event of the year (so far!), it's firmly tucked away at my parents house and will probably never come out again.  So, imagine my delight when earlier today, I read about the Bugaboo Donkey.  OMG! 

Six years before finding out during the Coronation Street break that I was pregnant with Edie, I wanted a Bugaboo.  And, why?  I used to see the Yummy Mummies of Primrose Hill, walking through the village with their perfectly sleek ponytails, popping into Tri-Yoga and grabbing a skinny latte at one of the pastel coloured coffee shops pushing these brightly coloured prams.  And, I wanted one!  So, years later, I'm the proud owner of a Bugaboo Cameleon...the sleek ponytail and Tri-Yoga, svelte-like figure will have to wait!

I excitedly shout 'love of my life' and get him to watch the Bugaboo Donkey video clip (repeatedly) as I scramble to find out when these Donkeys are launching.  SPRING 2011.  Really?  Do I seriously have to wait that long before I leave the house with my two children?   Do I really, really have to wait that long before I can turn a corner without calculating a turning circle first?  FFS!

DAY: 14/WEIGHT: 7lb, 8oz/FEEDS: 10 per 24hrs

Two weeks today, nearly to the minute (what's 11 minutes between mother and son), FreddieB was pulled from the most discreet opening a woman has. When I say pulled, I mean pulled not pushed.  Pulled, with forceps.  There was no Angelina Jolie moment for my second labour (or the first come to think of it, c-section).  I left theatre, with my upper body feeling like I'd literally been dragged through a hedge backwards...I suppose FreddieB was feeling the same!  My lower body was numb and I for one, was loving this feeling after the leprechaun of an anesthetist failed to get my epidural line in. 

Anyway, 14 days later and I'd guess around the same number of hours sleep, I'm ready to write my daily blog about how my life was transformed from the 'celebrity hairdresser' PR, living in the most coveted area in North London to ...well, this.  I crave the days where I could leave my desk, run to the 'A list' beauty spa,  kick one of the therapists out of their beauty rooms and grab an hours sleep. Where do I run to now?  In fact, the mere thought of me running anywhere with my stitched up privates is sending shivers down my bruised spine. 


ENJOY!