I’ve learnt a lot in the past year. What it’s like to have two children. To have a daughter and about myself. I never expected to learn so much about myself during that time but I did.
- Having a child and a baby isn’t as hard as I thought it was going to be
It’s not plain sailing. It takes a lot more meticulous planning and getting up earlier but it really isn’t as hard as I anticipated. I think I was preparing myself for the worst. I.e. another baby Bertie but luckily I was blessed with an Evie. NO colic, LESS vomit and went to sleep when she was tired, she takes after me.
- The second child develops a lot quicker than the first
So when I describe the second child being the easier baby, I mean it. But she didn’t seem to stay a baby for long, a few months at most. She was crawling, climbing, having meltdowns, getting into trouble far earlier than Bertie ever did. If you need examples take a look at this and this.
- Girls have opinions at a very young age
There have been countless times I’ve witnessed Evie have a meltdown as if she were a hormonal 14-year-old. Every morning I think something is seriously wrong, she’s in pain, or starving…….nope, all she wants is the bowl so she can feed herself Shreddies…
silence whilst she consumes her breakfast but no longer than that. I’m not sure how I’m going to cope when a Frozen t-shirt is the highlight of her wardrobe.
- Sodium bicarbonate goes bloody everywhere
DON’T USE IT. I couldn’t give a damn if it gets rid of the smell of sick or wee, once sprinkled EVERYWHERE it stays EVERYWHERE, especially over
wee liquid. It then turns into a glue which is similar to removing play doh out of carpet, febreze is the way forward, it was created for mothers like me, I’m sure of it.
- The smell of sick is VILE
Don’t get me wrong, I work in a hospital. I’ve dealt with all types, bile vomit, bloody vomit, fecal vomit (yes, it’s exactly what it sounds like, google it if you don’t believe me) BUT nothing, NOTHING comes close to the smell of children’s vomit post cheesy pasta. I shudder when my husband’s at work overnight and I get “Mummy, I don’t feel very welllll…..” my thought “Noooooooooooooo not the sickkkkkkkk, pleasssseeeee not the sickkkkk”…..always the stupid sick “it’s ok darling <gag> don’t worry <gag> I’ll tidy it <gag> up <gag> “. Thank god for hose pipes and a garden I don’t care about.
I’m used to being surrounded by Thomas the Tank engine, Duplo, Lego and swords, Evie naturally takes an interest in the above because she wants what Bertie’s playing with BUT she loves her teddies and dolls. Even though these have been bought for her, I don’t think I’ve ever encouraged the affection she shows towards them, she loves picking up her “bebee” cuddling and patting it on the back. We have pink crap, I thought I’d enjoy buying it but I HATE IT, I much prefer tractors and diggers.
- I’m not 23
Last but not least, I’ve realised I’m not in my early 20’s, or 20 anything.
My hair, Oh, my, HAIR….. it’s turning GREY. I was mainly pulling out the new baby hair (which is still bloody growing) which was a shiny silver colour BUT NO it didn’t stop there, the other day I found a full length silver shiner . I’ve never dyed my hair and I didn’t intend to for at least another 10 years but nope…it’s going to happen sooner rather than later. I tried to convey my upset to my husband:
Me: I don’t know if I told you but I found a really long grey hair yesterday.
Husband: I don’t know if you know but you’ve told that a million times already.
Me: You don’t understand how upsetting it is.
Husband: You don’t understand what its like to go bald, you have a enough hair for 10 people, who cares if it goes grey?
Me: ME, ME, ME, ME, ME I CARE!!!!!!! I’m going to have to dye it, I’ve never dyed my hair.
Husband: Get over it.
I also can’t drink like I used to. My husband and I went for a really lovely meal, I got excited in a cocktail bar, six cocktails later we decided to go back to the night club where we met and a jug of green s**t later, I woke up in the spare bed. I got my husband back for all those times he was away when Bertie was ill……. enough said.