Lets Hear it for the Baldies!

Okay. I am going to have to talk about the bald versus hairy baby debate. Freyja, as is fairly obvious from photos, is a bald baby. I've never really given the whole thing much thought, though based on the amount of baldy comments she gets, it would appear to be something that people do notice.

My friend Antonia has recently had a baby, and from reading comments on her blog, I have noticed how popular the hairy-type baby is. So I am going to put in a word for bald-type babies everywhere:

I LOVE bald babies! I love Freyja's silky soft head. I love that she didn't have to recede, as so aften happens, because there was no hair to fall out in the first place. I love that I don't have to de-tangle knots in the bath and subject her to a home hair cut (yet!) to stop her fringe from falling in her eyes. I love the fact that whenever people see her they always say 'oh, I think her hair has grown!', as if her lack of it might be something of an issue for me. I love that when I bath her she gets a wet, downy, kitten-ish fuzz on her head. I love that I still can't really picture what she will look like when she's a bit older and her hair has come through. I love that I'll have a toddler with a cute little crop. But most of all I love that, at almost 1 year of age, she still looks so much like a baby, with her soft, velvety, newborn-ish head.

27th November 2006

It is exactly one month until Freyja's first birthday. My daughter turns one next month. Hey? How did that happen?

This time last year I was waddling around London, oblivious to just how much my life was going to change, finally admitting defeat with the bi-weekly ashtanga yoga class I had carried on taking and being worked far, far too hard at the ASA for a woman who was 8 months pregnant. The start of my maternity leave was round the corner - officially on the 18th December, but with a week and half of holiday before hand. Although I, like just about every other first time mum around, intended to work as far up to the birth as was reasonable, I would advise anyone to give yourself at least 2 weeks off. It is a most precious time that you can never have again, as second time round you will have a toddler demanding your attention. I am glad that I had holiday to use up or I may have missed out on those wonderful few weeks, all the more exciting for being during the festive season. I went Christmas shopping on Oxford Street on my due date (22nd Dec). Met friends for lunch and cream teas. Got waxed to within an inch of my life and had a pedicure - as the beautician said, it's very important to have pretty toes when you go into labour. We had friends round for mulled wine on Christmas Eve and spent our first and last Christmas together with just the two of us. All the while hoping I could hold off giving birth until after Christmas Day.

While the year has certainly flown by in many respects, in others it has lasted a life time because I cannot now imagine my life before Freyja. I can't quite capture what life was like before she was a part of it, in the same way I can't quite remember how things were before I met Adrian.

Sometimes I feel sad that she is growing up, and I remember first going to the mother/baby group at the clinic, when she was just 3 weeks old, and seeing the other 5 and 6 months old babies and thinking that I would never get there. But in other ways I am glad that things move on. She has stood by herself for a few seconds a couple of times over the weekend. Each developmental leap she makes is exciting to watch and seeing how proud she is when she achieves something makes me burst with pride myself.

At each stage of her life so far I have said to my friends that it is my favourite one and I don't want her to get any older. And they laugh and point out that I said the exact same thing 2 months ago.

Up the Arsenal

My husband is an Arsenal fan. He is a Red member and wanted to get Freyja, who is also an Arsenal fan, a Red membership too, but she is too young. Instead, she has to settle for wearing Arsenal hats.



Adrian has, however, wondered about whether it would be possible to take her to a football game. Yesterday, we were watching some football on TV when he saw an Everton fan in the crowd with a baby in a sling and we had the following conversation:

Adrian: [excitedly] Do you think I could take Freyja to a game in the sling?

Me: [doubtfully] I'm not sure she would really enjoy it.

Adrian: Why not? [thinking] Do you think it would be too noisy and would frighten her?

Me: She is frightened by the sound of your dad blowing his nose. And of Sellotape.

Guess we will just stick with the TV for now.

Cold

Now I have a cold too. Again. Is it never ending? I understand the whole thing about babies catching everything going because they are still building their immune systems and have never been exposed to all these nasty cold viruses skulking about in the corners of cafes and playgroups, but shouldn't my immune system be better at fending them off?

Cough

Freyja has yet another cold and this time it is accompanied by a great, hacking, 50-a-day cough. She has not really been 100% well since the beginning of October. This is very annoying, particularly as 11 months down the line I am still breastfeeding her and one of the benefits of doing so should be that she gets ill less often. Ha. Up until she was about 8 months old she never caught a thing - one cold was all she had in that time. Then we both caught colds and it has been one after the other since then. If any of her friends have so much as a sniffle, Freyja gets it a few days later. We all agreed early on that there was no point staying away when our little ones had colds because we would never see each other.

This cough has been lingering since last Saturday. On Thursday night I was woken up to the sound of her hacking away in her sleep - how she was managing to sleep through it I will never know. Last night I was up with her between 11pm and 2am. I have ended up feeding her at night quite often in the last week.

You spend all this time aiming for 12 hours of straight sleep and the slightest sniffle sends it all off the rails again. Adrian is currently recovering from his knee operation in Blackheath private hospital courtesy of BUPA. I find myself fantasising about needing some form of minor operation just so I can get a full night's sleep in a hospital bed afterwards...

Tights

I think one of the best things about having a daughter has been discovering the wonderful world of little girl's tights. You can get a pair to match every outfit and for every occasion. Stripey, spotty, little hearts, little bows. How can you not be happy when you have things like this available to buy?

Bah...

I had hoped that by writing about the 'no brag' rule I might render it obsolete. Early signs were good - Freyja slept through on the 2 nights I most needed her to, giving the babysitters no problems at all and then sleeping through to the morning. But Sunday night I was in twice and last night involved a 2.30am visit. Bah.

Antonia and Ian's new baby has been sleeping for 8 hours and only waking up once in that time to feed for 10 minutes. I am sobbing over my keyboard.

Pigeonhold

Last night was the 9th anniversary party of Pigeonhold, and also the last ever one. A few years ago, Pigeonhold was a regular fixture in my life. It was a monthly night out that, when I first moved to London, was pretty much set in stone and has provided me with many hilarious memories not to mention quite a few that I would rather forget.

It was also thanks to Pigeonhold that I met Adrian and therefore, indirectly, that Freyja was born. The last time I went I was 30 weeks pregnant and didn't expect that the next time I made it down would be to celebrate it's end.

The Pigeonhold birthday parties are always fancy dress.

Here we are the 6th:


And the 7th:


We missed the 8th due to my pregnancy (and laziness...) and for the 9th I failed to fancy dress due to being in the clutches of one of my indecisive episodes, though Adrian made a lovely Gay Zoro...

...We had only 2 and half hours there but they were fantastic and reminded me what fun those crazy nights out are, when your friends are dressed up in ridiculous outfits and you finish the night with 7 girls squashed into one loo, downing shots of cider. One white wine spritzer and 3 glasses of champagne later, I could happily have shed my parental responsibilities and stayed out all night, but the babysitter was only booked until midnight. And at 6.45 this morning when Freyja woke me up I was very glad I had shown some restraint - your baby doesn't care if you've only had 2 hours sleep and have a hangover from hell.

The 'No Brag' Rule of Motherhood

As of about two weeks ago, Freyja finally dropped all her night feeds and started sleeping through, from about 6.30/7pm to about 6.30am. This is truly wonderful and I have enjoyed catching up on my sleep. However, one thing I should have learned by now is to never, ever brag about your sudden good fortune as a mother. Without fail, if you deem it safe enough to tell of some small victory, you will jinx it and be back to square one.

I have gently been allowing myself the small satisfaction of telling friends that Freyja is now sleeping through. Oh, when will I learn?! Guard those little victories closely because they are fragile achievements. She has woken up at around 10.30/11pm for the last 4 nights in a row, and on three of those occasions I have resorted to feeding her. This is not actually too bad a situation because she is still sleeping through (there I go again) but I am going out tonight and tomorrow and just wish she could have kept it up for a few days longer so I could go out without worrying.

Incidentally, the same rule does not apply to those who have Angel babies. They can brag until the rest of us are choking on our decaff lattes, and their little stars will continue sleeping through the night, eating all their food and smiling at strangers.

So with this rule, as with most things in life and motherhood, one size does not fit all.

Flensted Mobiles

Not long after Freyja was born we bought her a beautiful rabbit Flensted Mobile:

Last week we finally got round to putting it up.

They are wonderful mobiles, and I would highly recommend one as a present for anyone you know with a new baby, or for that matter, one for yourself.

Maclaren Triumph Update

I am currently road testing a Maclaren Triumph before I take the plunge and order one, borrowed from my good friend and pramaholic, Barbara. It's good, really light and sleek though Freyja does look like a little blob slumped in the seat. It's supposed to be suitable from 3 months but I just can't see that happening somehow. I had the straps on the tightest setting and she still looked in danger of sliding right off the seat.

This one is black and grey. No way I'm going for that combination. I'm currently leaning toward Tan Flag, especially as there is one on Ebay that has an offer on a coordinating foot muff. I have realised it is essential to get the foot muff if you have any plans of using it in cold weather. Either that or you're going to have to dress your baby in one of those all in one padded snow suits.

Thing is, I'm now wondering whether I wouldn't be better off spending the £30 or so extra and getting a Maclaren Quest instead. It's still light but has a few more features such as it reclines further and has a foot rest. If the seat looks any sturdier than the Triumph I may well be swayed. And it does come in this lovely Moss Bubbles colour...

My Post Baby Body

My body has emerged from this pregnancy and baby business relatively unscathed so far. I've lost the little pregnancy weight I put on, I don't have any stretch marks (bio oil or genes? Who knows - I have them on my hips so fully expected to get them) and my stomach is still flat, if a little corrugated when I lean forward. So far, my boobs appear to be fine - they are pretty much back to pre-pregnancy size (sob) though I am still breastfeeding so there is time for things to go seriously wrong in that department. I will let you know. My shape is a little different, but not obviously so. Last week I fitted into the final pair of pre-pregnancy trousers that had been too small for a while - a pair of size 8 trousers from Reiss (don't throw things at me - it all sounds much better on paper than it looks in the flesh).

I think the main reason I have fared so well is simply down to my height - I knew there had to be some pay off for not being able to wear wedges and 4 inch stilettos. I'm 5 foot 9 and long in the body so I didn't really get all that big - the baby had plenty of room to go up before having to go out. As my (also tall) sister in law was told by her doctor, it's like a 5 star hotel in there. I didn't get heart burn or indigestion and only got kicked in the ribs every now and again.

Your bump in centimetres should roughly equal your pregnancy in weeks (isn't that weird?) and I was well out by the time I reached the third trimester. I was sent for 2 extra scans based on the size of my bump only to have the sonographer roll her eyes each time because she knew the only reason I was not sporting a mountainous bump was down to my height. She also told me that tall women tend to have easier labours, which in my case certainly turned out to be true. So for once I was thankful of these extra inches that ordinarily I would gladly hand over to anyone else.

Here I am at 30 weeks. This is one of my favourite bump pictures:

By 40 weeks I am much bigger, though the white wrap around top certainly helps emphasise it:


And just for fun, here it is in the flesh, at 38 weeks:


I loved my pregnant body. It is one of the few times in my adult life that I have not felt uncomfortable about how my body looked. I loved my bump. I also loved actually being able to buy bras for grown women not teenagers (I once got measured for a bra in BHS and was told to try Topshop because they catered for 'teenagers') and it took a good few months before I succumbed to wearing wireless maternity bras.

By the end of it I was ready to be back to 'normal' but I'll always look back those 9 months very fondly, when it was pointless worrying if I looked fat, I couldn't even see my thighs and I always ordered dessert.

Mummy's handbag

For a few weeks now Freyja has had a new favourite pastime. This involves rooting through my handbag to see what interesting things she can find in there. Getting ready to go out often involves me running around grabbing the millions of things it seems necessary to take out with you when you have a baby, putting them in my bag as I find them, while Freyja takes them out one after the other. It used to take about 2 hours to get ready to go out but I can pretty much do it in 15 minutes now, if needed, and that includes having to pack my bag twice. Right now she has taken out a nappy sack which she is rubbing between her fingers and looking at with a puzzled expression on her face. The floor around is littered with stacking blocks, a baby gym, numerous books and rattles but hey, it seems you can't beat a Sainsburys economy nappy sack for first class entertainment value. Her other favourite thing to find in there is my wallet - it figures...

Anyway, watching this intent investigation of my bag has reminded me of these great books I saw a while ago. They are called, imaginatively, something like 'Grandma's Handbag' and 'Grandpa's Handbag' and are basically handbag shaped books which you open up to reveal the sort of things you might find in a grandparent's bag - combs and keys and magnifying glasses, that sort of thing...if I can find a picture anywhere I will put one up. I'd love to have one (for Freyja, of course).

Ah, she's found the open bag of Organix Crunchy Corn Rings (every baby I know is addicted to those things). They'll be stale now but that won't bother her - nope, she's tipped the whole packet out over herself and the rug and is munching away.

I wonder if I can just call that breakfast?

Rub-a-Dub-Dub

I went to see Rub-a-Dubs nursery this morning and loved it. Came away for the first time since starting this whole childcare business feeling that it was somewhere I could happily leave Freyja. The staff were lovely, I liked the structured day, the food looked good, hey, they were even happy to use re-usable nappies! Freyja also seemed to like it - she beamed at the staff and got very excited when we were shown the big girl/boy toilets...

...shame about the enormous waiting list. What do I do now? I've decided to go and see Pitta Patta nursery again because now that I think about it, I don't actually remember feeling horrified at the thought of Freyja going there. They don't have places yet either but may have some in March. Funny that after being set on using a child minder, I've found that I actually prefer the feel of a nursery. I wonder if it has something to do with my mum being a primary school teacher...!

So, what have I learnt?

1. Don't let your own feelings about something get confused with someone else's feelings.

2. Remember that different babies suit different things.

3. Remember that what is perfect for you may not be right for someone else, even if that someone else is a very close friend.

4. Don't get carried away with an idea without thinking about the realities.

5. Remember to look at what is best for your baby, not for you.

Harriet and I really wanted to share a child minder and to have our 2 girls together. But as they grow older it is becoming more and more apparent just how different they are and therefore how different things suit them. I may be wrong, but I really do think that Freyja will respond better to the structure and stimulation that a nursery provides.

So here I am in mid-November, still no childcare, going on holiday in less than a month and starting back at work on the 8th Jan.

Childcare

I am currently trying to find childcare for Freyja for when I return to work in January. I've decided to use a child minder over a nursery and am hoping to share with Harriet so that Ruby and Freyja are together. We have now seen 5 child minders. This is how they went:

1. I went to this one on my own. The surprising thing is that I dared to see any more after this one. The toys were her children's toys - nothing wrong with that except that her son is now 26...I tried to steer Freyja away from the terrifying flicky eyed doll but she was intent on investigating. The play room doubled up as the wash room. And by the time I left I knew she had had a throat operation, was taking her daughter the hospital on Friday and that her son's wife had breast cancer.

2. So convenient I could go round in my pyjamas, lovely, lovely lady but we felt not really stimulating enough for the girls and she couldn't do Monday anyway.

3. Again, very convenient. The girls really took to her and she was very flexible. Shame about the tiny room, which we worked out at some point during the day would be housing 5 children. And the boot-trouser combo she had on really ought to be illegal (but she's certainly an option).

4. Terrible. Sounded lovely, lived on an estate, flat was very geared up for child minding but the little boy there was eerily quiet and she seemed more interested in convincing us to become child minders because it's so easy to get registered - not really the sort of thing we want to hear.

5. Perfect. On the surface. The only one who showed us her Ofsted report and around the house. Really open, organised, stimulating. Very expensive and not too convenient, but that is less important for the right person. Harriet loves her. I think she's great as a child minder though didn't massively warm to her and am not sure she is right for Freyja. Freyja is quite a spirited little thing, feisty (if I had a penny for every time she's been called feisty I wouldn't be going back to the ASA in January) and I could imagine this lady getting exasperated with her.

It is so, so hard to know what to do. I have always had a nagging feeling I should be looking at nurseries and that they may be more suitable environment for Freyja's temperament. Having seen a supposedly perfect child minder and still come away feeling something is not quite right has reinforced that, unfortunately a little late in the day.

I am going to see Rub-a-dubs nursery tomorrow and if I like it will add her to the waiting list and in the meantime will have to decide on which child minder to use.

I don't see why I can't just keep her in a filing cabinet at work....

Newborn sleep

I am mildly hungover this morning as I went on my mums' night out to the Dartmouth Arms last night and shared a bottle of wine with Harriet. In my Life Before Freyja (L.B.F), I would have positively sprung out of bed after only drinking half a bottle of wine, but these days I'm lucky if I can manage a second glass, so half a bottle is a binge drink extraordinaire for me.

My little gremlin of a child has been driving me ever so slightly potty these last few days. I suspect teething (she has 3 on the way) or possibly separation anxiety, poor little mite, or maybe just general Freyja behaviour. Either way, she is being difficult. We went to see the lovely little Esme on Sunday, who slept for the whole 2 hours we were there. The only sound she emitted the entire time was that explosive 'newborn filling nappy' noise, which I had, until that point, completely forgotten about. She is a little angel - tiny, beautiful and was blissfully nestled in Antonia's arms. Freyja, on the other hand was playing up - Oh the shame. She cried and squirmed and wanted to be picked up, then put down. There I was trying to give off an air of experienced mum calmness while my daughter ran rings around me and the new- mum-of- only- a- week sat serenely in her rocking chair talking about how surprisingly easy this motherhood lark was. Sigh.

Now everyone tells me that newborns all sleep but I am sure that Freyja woke up on about day 3. Adrian blames my relatives who descended on us like a family of 5-thousand sometime around the middle of the first week. I thought that perhaps my memory was deceiving me and she did spend most of the time asleep, but then I checked back on the photos we took and the evidence is there for all to see. Here she is, not even 24 hours old and already trying to work out what on earth that thing that keeps flapping in front of her face is:


And here she is putting the world to rights with my dad on day 3:



And by day 6, she is already wondering what on earth I am doing putting her in a moses basket when she isn't even tired, mum!



She perfected that scowl over the next few months and now, as Adrian's dad says, can give you such a withering look as to make you feel 2 inches small when the mood takes her.

Obviously we do also have lots of sleepy pictures of her because of course she did sleep, but I promise you that she also spent a fair amount of the day wide awake (usually crying to be fed!). I think the only person that she really slept for the entire duration of their visit was with Alix 'I'd rather have a baby monkey, thank you very much':


Which gets me thinking about why we define a 'good baby' as one who sleeps all the time? Is that really what good is, or is it because it makes mum and dad's life a hell of a lot easier, I wonder.

Penny for your thoughts

Freyja has developed a habit of picking things up off the floor and eating them - usually bits of rice cakes or oat cakes that she's been eating earlier, but also bits of paper or fluff. I tend to keep a vague eye on her and fish out anything that isn't actually edible. Today, while I was getting dressed, I saw her pick up what I thought was a small bit of fluff from the carpet. I didn't worry about it too much but as she crawled over I could see her munching on it so I thought I'd best fish it out, only to find out it was actually a 1p piece....I fear that in a parallel universe somewhere I am currently in a severe state of shock. On telling my mum friends about it though, I was top trumped (and therefore felt slightly less guilty about about leaving choking-risk objects lying around) by my friend Harriet who told me that a similar thing had happened with her daughter, but when she fished it out, it turned out to be a marble....oh.

Maclaren Triumph

For quite a while now I have been thinking about getting a lightweight buggy for Freyja. The one to get - the Yummy Mummy of lightweight buggies - is the Maclaren Triumph. It would be great for travelling (I meant to get one both times before going to France but didn't get round to it) and trips out - you can literally throw it over your shoulder and go. Though obviously it works better if you put the baby in it...

It costs about £70 though you can get them on Ebay for around £50 plus p&p. I've looked at cheaper versions, but by the time you've bought the hood and the rain cover which seem to come as extras with the cheaper versions, you've almost paid the same. Plus, the Triumph is very light - around 5kg all in. So what is holding me back? Well, I can't decide what colour to get. Indecisiveness is a little problem I have. I cannot cope with choice, and if faced with too much to choose between I will often decide not to choose at all. And the Maclaren Triumph comes in a huge array of colours. The 2005 versions - Pewter & Moss, Olive & Pewter, Colbalt & Burgandy. The 2006 versions - Tan Flag, Raspberry Flag, Jade Lime Flag, The 2007 versions - Mouse's Back, Dead Salmon. Actually I made those last ones up - they are colours of Farrow & Ball wall paint....

It is now November and I am wondering if I should wait to see what the 2007 colours are. Or should I go for it with the 2005 Olive & Pewter one currently available on Ebay for £49.99, because you can't get hold of many of them any more. Or shall I go for sensible, unisex, can't go wrong with it Tan flag?

Decisions, decisions - if I wait long enough she will be 4 years old and walking and I won't have to make one at all...

Angel Daisy

Well I babysat for the legendary Angel Daisy last night. And it's all true! I put her in her cot at 6.45, turned on her musical mobile and walked out - not one tear, not one squeak, nothing! This baby slept through the night (I mean really slept through - 12 whole hours, not the kind of sleeping through that on closer inspection turns out to have been about 5 hours and included a quick dummy visit at 10pm and a tiny little cuddle at 3.30am....) from something ridiculous like 3 weeks of age.....no wonder her mummy is pregnant again.

Freyja is sleeping through now too. She is 10 months. Last night she did 6pm - 5.30am, which is quite an achievement. And now she is eating stale Organix corn rings off the living room floor, which she rooted around in my bag to find and tipped out over place. I wouldn't swap her for the world!!!

Mornings

I love mornings. I've always been more of a morning person (Adrian thinks I'm mad) and love getting up early on the weekend and pottering round, knowing you have the full day ahead of you. Admittedly it's not quite so fun when it consists of rushing to get ready for work, but now, on maternity leave, mornings have taken on a whole new level of loveliness. Freyja is always in a good mood - I get a great beaming smile and often an excited kick of the legs. I feed her and read her a few stories then we potter round, checking emails, playing with toys, having a shower then getting some breakfast. Then it's usually time for another nap and I get a little bit of time to myself. A whole unspoilt day ahead.

Special Moments

I've just bathed Freyja and put her to bed, having first read Antonia's account of Esme's birth on her blog. It made me think about Freyja's birth and those incredible first few weeks of her life and I felt bad for getting frustrated with her today. She is going through a phase of hating her bath again - the third night of it tonight. We have a film of her flipping about in the bath like some little mer-baby and then the next night she screamed as soon as her toe touched the water. Tonight she cried as soon as I took her into the bathroom. Who knows what has brought this on. So, she had a very quick bath then I gave her a massage which I haven't done for ages - I love her squidgy little body, she has such lovely chubby thighs, a round but slim belly, delicate little shoulders and a perfect peachy bottom. Is there anything as wonderful as a baby's little bottom?! Anyway, she fed and went down easily and now here I am drinking red wine, eating brie and thinking how great it is being a mummy. Which it is, even after frustrating afternoons like this one.

Bad Day

I've just come home from an aborted mission to Lewisham, cut short due to Freyja's constant whining.
I feel sad and lonely, as though I have no close friends at the moment (which I know is not true, I have lots of friends, though some of us are in very different places at the moment. I also have made some incredibly good new friends since having Freyja, something I was not anticipating at all).

However, today is not a good day. She is driving me round the bend. I'm desperate for a nap but she will not sleep even though she has only had an hour's nap this morning. I have just left her crying for 20mins in the hope she would drop off, something I said I would never do. No such luck - she's up and fussing. She is so unpredictable it can drive me mad - one day she'll sleep for 2 hours, the next it's 20 minutes. She is also now refusing to eat - everything just gets thrown on the floor or spat out. She will not let me leave the room even for a second without screaming and she constantly paws at my legs like a little puppy wanting to be picked up. I know the thing to do is to get out, meet someone for a coffee but I just can't find the motivation. Days like this, when I realise I have just told my 10 month old daughter to 'shut up' (how bad is that?) for the 10th time make me wonder why I became a mum and why on earth I am even considering having any more....

...And then she goes and shakily pulls herself up on the back of the dining chair and beams proudly at me through the bars...