Becoming a "Mummybore".

Dear Oscar,

You are coming up to five months now and you're starting to develop habits and a personality. To watch you develop and grow is fascinating and I'm struggling to stop spamming up people's Facebook feeds with baby news. (Incidentally, is Facebook even a thing anymore? I can imagine you saying in ten years time "Ah mum! No one uses the Internet anymore!" and I'll be VERY uncool.)

If I wrote about every time you did something cute, my blog would look like "haha you farted for ages today! No more curries for mummy!" or "you just winked at me! No really, you did!".

When I got pregnant, I never thought I'd turn into one of those mum's. You know the type, seemingly having nothing better to do than talk about their child's bowel movements, tweeting about every coo, every smile, every time little Johnny cries at loud noises. But here I am.

I find you absolutely spellbinding. I could watch you all day, I examine every part of your face, I know your smell, your noises and cries, I know when you need a hug or a feed or a nap and bizarrely, I feel the need to tell everyone else about it. I'm finding myself becoming a mummybore Oscar.
So here I'm going to document the cute things you do that I feel are hilarious that other parents scoff at ("Pfft that's nothing, my Susie did that when she was a foetus!"), and those without kids could not give a appletini about so please forgive me.

The way you suck on your bottom lip when you want comfort.

The way crisp packets will amuse you endlessly. (Mum of the year award to me for allowing my child to play with garbage... bite me.)

The way you stick your little booty out and pout your lips when you're having a stretch... I'm hoping you don't do this when you're 18...

The way we can hold entire conversations without you not knowing one word of English. I'm becoming fluent in baby however.

The way you always want to be standing up. And also the way you like to bounce about when you're standing up. You gave your Great Aunt Gok a run for her money yesterday by leaping around on her lap when she held you up.

The way your left leg seems to have a life of it's own. You seem to prefer your left hand also, will you be a leftie like mum?

The way you seem to have a personal vendetta about your teddy bear hat. You really hate that thing.

The way you do the loudest farts I have ever heard. How can one small person make such a loud noise?! More than once I have been blamed for the noise you've made.

The way you get excited and wave and kick when I say "Good morning Oscar!".
The way you kick your podgy little legs when you're having a bath. So much so you end up kicking water in your own face, spluttering and then going back to the kicking. You LOVE baths. I hope that never changes.

The way you are obsessed with ceiling fans. You nearly threw yourself off your daddy's lap trying to stare at one in Frankie and Benny's.

The way you pull my top down when you're hungry.

The way you're indiscriminate about who's top you're pulling down when you're hungry. Pro tip: most people cannot lactate. Your dad definitely can't.

The way you stick your tongue out when you're concentrating.

And finally,

The way you look in a permanent state of surprise. Your eyebrows go higher than I thought was possible. Funny boy.

There are many more things I could note down but I would be here all day and you have just steadily sharted and filled your nappy in my lap so it's time for a nappy change. Well done.

I love you, silly baby. 

Mummy
xxxx

Mr. Grabby Grabbyson

Dear Oscar,

As much as I appreciate your newfound confidence in the latest skill you have acquired (grabbing), there are certain things that I really would prefer you not to pull. Below is a list detailing such things, in no particular order:

Auntie Hannah's hair
Not a day goes by where we do not hear the belaboured cries of "Ow he's got me hair! Let go you little git!  Argh! Let go Oscar! Ow ow ow he's ripped out a chunk again!". When your auntie finally gains sweet freedom, I invariably find a few long blonde hairs clutched in your tiny hand like they're a ticket to a certain Oompah Loompah staffed confectionery factory.

Mummy's/Nanna's/Grandad's glasses
These things are expensive!  And my poor eyesight combined with your clutch-grab-THROW manoeuvre I'm fearing yet another trip to the opticians.

The dog.
She doesn't taste good and probably will not react well to becoming a chew toy.

Mummy's eyeball.
This should go without saying but bloody hell it hurts when you pinch my eyelids. Bully.

Auntie Hannah's necklace.
"THIS IS FROM TOPSHOP!"

And finally,

Uncle Josh's chin.
As funny as this is for everyone involved (except Josh, obviously) he doesn't like it... actually carry on, it's still too funny.

I love you, 

Mummy
xxxx

Mummy's First Blog

Dear Oscar, 

Since the moment I became pregnant,  I also became full of questions. "Should my stomach feel like this? Is that his head or his bum? Will he be early? Is it normal not to have pooped in a week?".  Then you came along and my questions got more urgent. "Why is he making that noise? Should I take him to the doctor? Is he feeding enough? Oh god! Why is his poop green?! WHY WON'T HE SLEEP?!".

I also find myself asking your nanna and grandad if they can remember when I started walking/smiling/laughing/talking and can't help feeling disappointed when they can't remember every last detail. Your grandad pointed out in frustration that it has been twenty years since he had a newborn and he can't remember what happened a week ago.

Now you have hit the teething stage. You seem grumpy and unsettled, covered in dribble and I spend a lot of my time allowing you to chew on my hands and worrying that you may be developing an addiction to Calpol. Some days I feel overwhelmed, like I have bitten off more than I can chew and whether breastfeeding really is the right decision when I'm struggling not to stay upright at 3am (and at 4am, 5am, 6am...). And then I read back through my phone, look at my messages, my photos and Facebook and I remember the newborn days.

I remember one night where you were going through a growth spurt and I finally got you down to sleep at 6am and then your siblings woke up... no sleep for mummy that night! That night felt like the end of the world to me. I was tearful, sleep deprived, angry and frustrated. But reading the emotional messages exchanged between myself and your auntie Hannah the next day made me realise just how far we both have come.

You may still be up five times during the night but crucially, you will now sleep in your cot and not just my arms. You may squirm and grumble when I'm feeding you because you are over tired but you will now feed for less than an hour without nodding off . You may get mad when you can't stand up on your own yet (side note: you are four months old! Of course you can't walk or leap like a gazelle yet, you're a teeny baby!) but you can hold your head up, grab things, support your weight on your legs, play, chuckle and smile.

So as you can see my son. We have come so far and we have a lifetime of adventure ahead of us.

I thought I would write this blog to document our struggles and achievements, our tears and laughter and for one day, where you perhaps have a child of your own and you ask "Mum, is their poop meant to be green? Was mine ever green?!" we can look back and see. (Yes and yes by the  way.)

So, my dear Oscar, this is hopefully the first blog of many. Here's to the future.

I love you,

Mummy. 

xxxx