Mum's birthday meal weekend Part 1

I'd been looking forward to this weekend. A family meal to celebrate mum's 70th birthday. The fact that her birthday was in January did not matter. We've always said she looked a little like the queen and now she was having two birthdays just like her too.

The last time we were all together was at my wedding, nearly 3 years ago. When I realised this I was shocked but there is good reason why we don't all get together very often. Logistics play a huge part with representatives in Scotland, Wales and England it is not always easy, added to that we all now have children (some much older with jobs) so it is hard to get calendar dates clear and a place big enough for us all to commune. But let's not pretend, there is also a pinch of family squabbles and tension and that's before we even arrived!

I was already stressed from a night in Leeds where Tilly didn't sleep terribly well and also slept in our bed so I was aching from sleeping in a strange position all night.

We arrived at the hotel (which had a beautiful view of Cumbria) and saw Simon, Lynne and the boys. Tilly was good at this point, she'd just woken up. It was hot and we were sitting outside, in the shade. Sarah, PK, Oli, Ro, Biddy and Lulu arrived next. Then Karl, Lulu, Felix and Rufus, followed by mum, uncle John and Auntie Prue. Last to arrive was Claire, Andrew, George, Harry and Bear. We had descended on this peaceful hotel in Cumbria and taken over the outside space. Tilly was quite quickly taken from me then passed around some more. I didn't quite know what to do with myself when I wasn't holding her. It's the first time I've really 'let go'. I hung around awkwardly around my own baby. There was so much going on, people arriving, getting up in her face. By the time mum arrived she was already a little crotchety. The last time I saw mum, I was crotchety and I wanted to show her that I'm OK and look at my lovely daughter, but instead Tilly started to grizzle, then wriggle, then cry. I, in turn started to get stressed.

I'm the youngest and therefore will always be the last to do things. I was surrounded by my siblings who between them have 11 children. A huge weight of personal pride came crashing down and I was getting more and more uptight about looking like an incapable mother in front of those I want to show the most that I can do it. Especially my mum. Tilly has been wonderful for the last 5 days, a real joy and we've been getting on better than ever, but now the time that I want her to behave the most she does the opposite. I know it is not her fault: the heat, the fuss, the amount of new faces, smells, environment and no doubt the vibes she was picking up from me probably made her get more anxious. I decided to take her off into one of the rooms inside to get a little cooler, give her some quiet time and change her nappy. She continued to cry and cry and cry. I, in turn got more and more stressed inside, trying to smile, trying to pretend that I was coping with this whereas inside I was screaming to myself "what is wrong? please don't do this now, to me, not here". I moved her from the room we were in into an even cooler one and she had a dirty nappy, it had gone on her vest and I was at breaking point. I was squatting to change her on the floor in a dark corner (as they didn't have a changing room). People were walking past and I just wanted them to go away. I didn't want them to talk about Tilly and what a horror she was. I wanted them to go away thinking she was a little cutie, and see that I was coping. But there I was slowly getting more stressed and as the tension seared through my back, the tears started to form in my eyes. I couldn't see what I was doing through the tears, Tilly was screaming on the floor, naked apart from a nappy. I was desperately rifling through my changing bag looking for a spare vest. Trying so hard to find it quickly I was practically throwing the rest of the contents everywhere. Richard came to help me calm down but I was past it and we ended up arguing in hushed tones. I managed to get a vest on her and took her to yet another cooler place, she was still screaming. I sat down to breastfeed her. As she started to feed I looked down, both her legs were bright red, one was almost purple. I still hadn't quite calmed down from before and this tipped me over into complete hysteria. We were in some hotel in the middle of Cumbria and I had a small baby with one purple leg, screaming (with what now in my mind was agonising pain). Where was the nearest hospital? I hadn't got any Calpol with me. Tilly continued to scream, as I sat over unable to do anything to make her stop with floods of tears rolling down my face, calling to Richard to get someone quickly. Richard was worried too but kept calmer and asked who would be helpful. Claire. Claire would be helpful. She is always calm.

While all that was happening, the rest of the family had gone to start the dinner that we had all gathered for. Richard returned with Claire. Tilly was screaming again and I was sobbing uncontrollably as I just didn't know what to do and was stressed beyond belief. Claire started talking calmly and stroked Tilly's leg. I'd stopped crying and she told me to try to continue feeding. Tilly took it and as the calm that Claire had brought in with her descended on us both, the redness in Tilly's leg disappeared. Tilly was almost asleep, probably exhausted from the whole shambles and I sat sobbing once more. Relief that nothing was wrong with her seemed to have triggered another bucket full of tears. I ate my starter with Richard in the hall. I tried to regain my composure and eventually entered the dining room to join the others.

Eventually I got Tilly down to sleep in her pram and went outside to join the others. It wasn't long before she was awake again. I'd been praying that when she woke up she'd be lovely, but she wasn't. She was a grumpy baby all afternoon and spent the whole time either crying, screaming or being shusshed to sleep.

Tilly started crying again, and I started to feel a little awkward once more as I hung around, wanting to let people hold her but still a ball of stress that they'd see I couldn't cope if I couldn't make her quiet. Sarah paced up and down the gardens with her, bouncing continuously and shusshing. Everyone commented that I was just the same as a baby and Sarah did the same with me. But Tilly is not normally like this. Why did no one seem to believe me? I wanted mum to spend time with Tilly. I wanted Tilly to be lovely but this wasn't the right time or place.

I was getting agitated. In addition to this, I feel fat and frumpy. My skin has never been great and this weekend it flared up and I had a spot/scab on my chin - nice! At a quieter moment when I'd finally started to relax a little Sarah came up to me and asked me what's happening to my chin. It wasn't the fact that she asked but it made me feel immediately self conscious. At school and college I've always had spots. It has always made me feel self-conscious and it doesn't help with my confidence. Sarah's comment whisked me back to school memories of being bullied.
PK started calling for a family photo (not perfect timing having been just reminded how ugly I was looking) and with that I was off to the loo. I tried to apply some more make up so at least it wouldn't show in the photos, after all this photo could be the last one of us all together for another few years. It wasn't working but the photo wouldn't be a close up so maybe it'd be OK. I went back outside trying to put on a brave face - I was having a shit day.

Everyone had assembled already on the steps. Sarah had Tilly fast asleep in her arms, on the other side of the group was Richard. I was torn, do I stand with my husband or my baby? I wanted to stand with both. But the rush was on to take the photo and there wasn't time for discussion - there were small children there who were getting fractious. I wanted to stand in the family photo with my own little family, with my husband and my baby, not on my own in the middle.

Tilly woke up shortly afterwards and I had her back, albeit briefly. She was crying once again, and once again many others came forward with promises of 'the gift' to shushh her. After a succession of people, she was returned to me, still crying. Once again I was tense. I felt like I was being watched. Where has this demon of a baby come from? Is she really part of our family? Why can't her own mother get her soothed?


I was exhausted by now. My frustration and tension levels were at an all time high and I wanted to leave. This was supposed to be a great family get together and it was a living hell for me, but more as a result of my own insecurities than anything else.

I was glad to get in the car and head off to our campsite. We weren't camping though - we were wig wamming!

Hotter than a greenhouse

There is so much literature around stressing the importance of not overheating your baby. The ideal temperature for a room is between 16 and 21 degrees. Overheating can be fatal, has been thought that is a factor in many cot deaths. I've been stressing over the heat in our house since Matilda was born. I've had many a battle with mum in the early days as she kept putting more and more layers and blankets on her while she was sleeping in her pram. Each time I walked past, another layer had been laid over her so I peeled it off, only to walk back in a few minutes later and there it was back on again. Tilly was swaddled in blankets and fleeces and I was getting hotter headed by the second. Anyway, that was then - recently we've found quite a happy medium with the temperature. That was until we went to Leeds.

I'd timed the travelling with Tilly's evening sleep, planned so when we arrived I'd wake her up, feed her and then put her back down again. But when we arrived the house was hotter than a greenhouse with the central heating and the fire burning. I gave Tilly a feed and then she looked around and there were bright lights, lots of noise and new faces. So, we sat up for 2 hours before we could attempt to go to bed. When we did venture upstairs, it was such a strange environment that Tilly would not settle and spent the night in bed with us.

So much for a smooth transition from car to bed. And so much for a nice weekend away, I'm already stressed.

The Adventues of Tilly Poo Pants

Boredom has started to set in. I found the video camera, but while filming her gurgling I saw some potential props in the distance and a film shortly followed.

The film premiered on YouTube (on Tilly's own channel).



I'd not had as much fun in ages or laughed as much as I did making it or editing it. I've obviously not changed much, someone who I knew at college contacted me and reminded me that I'd se up a spoof bar backstage during the production of Richard III to entertain crew and actors. The bar prices were things like 'packet of peanuts' - a horse. and tango - your kingdom.

When I sent it out to everyone in the family to see. Paul quickly responded with "brilliant", especially when watching in a quiet open plan office with the sound full volume. I can see his red face from here!

Dee Dee said:
"I'm still laughing! I like the floating Tilly in many colours coming in from the left and right."

A long time coming - since B.E (Before Emails)

Karen and Mike got married, hooray! It has taken long enough, I remember Karen writing me a letter (proof of how long, before emails!) in my first year at University saying that she'd found someone lovely - it was Mike.
She texted me a few weeks ago and asked if I'd be able to go, of course I could she is my oldest and one of my best friends, I wouldn't miss it for the world. The wedding was in Liverpool at 11.30am on Friday. So Richard took the day off and we travelled up on Thursday, he found a great little apartment for us to stay in in the centre of town. When we arrived Tilly who had been an angel in the car, she slept the whole journey and continued to sleep even when we moved her from the car, to the room and then on the dining room table on her blanket!

The wedding was lovely, short and sweet. Karen looked beautiful in a long cream skirt and corset style top. She did spend the whole time fussing and pulling at the top as she kept saying she was showing a lot of cleavage but it wasn't that bad and what better time to show it off? It's been a long time since I've seen Karen's mum and brother Rob, to me they hadn't aged a bit. Dan has grown so tall and looked and behaved almost fatherly.

Tilly was asleep when we arrived and I'd joked that she'd wake up when the ceremony started, sure enough as soon as we walked into the room and the registrar said "Welcome" she started to grizzle and I had to leave. I was delighted when Richard popped out a few seconds later after she hadn't settled to take her so I didn't miss the whole thing. I sat at the back, one hear listening out for Tilly. Richard had given me his camera but he knows I don't really know how to use it so I tried to take a few snaps but they're all out of focus. After they had exchanged vows and rings, the registrar called Dan forward to be almost official photographer, it made me laugh as he went up snapping away on his Polaroid while Rob stood on the other side with a very professional looking camera. It was quite funny. There were lots of laughs and it was a really nice service.

When I got out, I fed Tilly and we stood around chatting. They were married, hooray.
We made our way over to the restaurant for the reception, it was quite some way, the GPS had packed up and we didn't have a map, thankfully it was almost a straight road and we got there. It was right on the corner of the infamous Penny Lane.

Karen had got changed, which is a shame but she had another lovely outfit on. We had to carry Tilly in her pram upstairs. I wondered how much of the meal I'd get through before she woke again, but surprisingly she stayed asleep for the whole thing, it was wonderful timing. It also let us have a lovely meal. We always knew that we'd not be able to stay for the evening reception, we had to get back home, but we popped along to their flat before we left. Tilly was awake, had a quick babble and some bare time on the floor and then we fed her again and left them to party.

Market auditions

Coventry Market - The Musical was and still is my work baby so I had to go along to watch the first day of auditions being held in the market. I had dreamt up this project, planned it, contracted, liaised and been engrossed in every element of it, planning it perfectly with my maternity leave. So it was a weird experience being there, I wasn't working and yet it all felt so personal, so connected and yet unconnected.
Fran carried Tilly around while I chatted to Ben and Lucy. The auditions started and I felt a tinge of jealousy as Lucy sat beside Ben auditioning, I wanted to know what these people were saying, I wanted to know all about them.

As the auditions started, Tilly started playing up, she should have and is usually asleep at 1pm in the afternoon but not today. I had to pace around the market with her, missing the people I wanted to watch, missing all the action. I fed her and changed her and she went to sleep for about 20 minutes. I suppose I was lucky I'd seen any of it. I was glad that David had recognised that I was there and that the project was still mine.

Have you got the Calpol ready?

"Why didn't you tell me before?" that is what I've been asking everyone all day.

Today was our 8 week check up and Tilly's first set of injections. I thought I was well prepared for them, but I wasn't. We walked down to the doctors and there was a cock up to start with as they'd sent me two appointment times, the first I was given was 10.10am which I was told was for me first and then Tilly's injections straight afterwards. Then I was sent a card in the post confirming Tilly's injections at 9.05am. I rushed to get ready and walked down to the surgery only to be told by the receptionist that I should have ignored the second card (that was sent by the PCT). How was I supposed to know that? So I traipsed back up the steep hill to get back home, have a cup of tea and marched back down the hill for 10.10am.

We saw Rita our health visitor who checked Tilly's weight and head circumference. All was OK. She asked if I had got the Calpol ready. Calpol. No. I didn't think she could even take it yet?

Next was the doctor, I was under the impression she'd check my stitches, she didn't. I don't know whether to be relieved (it's never nice cocking your leg up to show your bits!) or miffed, grim I know but I'd like to know officially that it has healed nicely. Anyway, she popped Tilly on the bed and manhandled her (not roughly) but not as delicately as I or Richard have been moving her about. She pulled her up to a sitting position from lying just using her arms, her head looked so heavy as it was almost levered up by the rest of her body. The doctor says she is a very bright little girl. She may say this to all the mums but I'd like to think she doesn't. Then that question again, have you got a bottle of Calpol at home? Why had they both asked this question??

Next was the nurse for Tilly's first set of injections. The question was asked again, have you got the Calpol ready? Right. This obviously isn't a question, it is more of an instruction. No I haven't got any Calpol but I guess I need to buy some immediately. Why don't they put this stuff down on the appointment card?

When she had her guthrie test, the midwife recommended that I breastfed her so she wouldn't cry so much. It gives her something to concentrate on and is comforting. As it worked so well I thought I'd do it with the injections and I asked the nurse if it was OK. I started to get ready and Tilly looked delighted that she was having another feed. She latched on beautfiully and then her first leg was injected. She screamed, no normal scream but a scream that nearly broke my heart. A scream full of pain and horror. Poor thing, she had no idea what was happening and how could I explain that it was for her own good? I desperately tried to get her to continue breastfeeding. She whimpered and went back on, tears were rolling down her face. I've got a feeling I should have a bottle of Calpol ready.

This was not the end, this was only the first injection, there were two. The other one was in the other leg and I had to turn Tilly over so the nurse could access the other thigh. Taken off the comfort of the breast to move to the other side, Tilly started to scream with short breaks for whimpering and lots of tears streamed down her face. The tears started to well up in my eyes as I could feel her pain and felt helpless to be able to stop it. The other leg was injected and I was sent packing. Not surprisingly I made a beeline straight for the chemists to buy some Calpol.

Putting Tilly back in the pram was agony, I just wanted to hold her and tell her it was OK, but it wasn't. Of course it wasn't, she had just had two big injections in each leg. I made my way across the road, down the row of shops with my own 'musical' pram. We entered the chemists and there was a big queue, it was my worst nightmare. I hate Tilly crying and all I want to do is cope with it in private. I can't stand simpering looks from mothers or disgusted looks wondering why I can't console my baby. I started exclaiming loudly so everyone could hear "she's just had her injections". Why do I need to tell everyone? The girl from our antenatal class (who didn't want it to affect her life) was there with her baby Roxy Lee. Roxy is only 10 days older than Matilda but she is already sitting upright in her pram looking like she's 4 months old. Her mother seemed to know all about Calpol and said that I can alternate between Ibruprofen and Calpol. Blimey 40 minutes ago I didn't know she could take any drugs yet and now I'm getting told I can give her multiple doses. If her daughter needed multiple drugs then surely I am in for a rough ride today. Why didn't anyone tell me sooner? I had to wait in the queue which seemed to be moving really slowly, each step I took Tilly's screams got louder and louder. I started to sweat and was feeling so stressed. Exasperated I got to the front and they knew what I needed.
I got out of the chemists and practically ran up the steep hill, Tilly was screaming louder and louder and I just wanted to be teleported home immediately. As I passed Whoberley Community Centre I saw Michelle from the SureStart team. Matilda is always crying when I see her and here I am walking down the street with her screaming once again. I shouted once more across the road "Injections!" in a manic voice with a forced smile and a shrug of the shoulders. I was rushing home by this point. I'd bearly got my coat off and I was ripping the box open and pouring it out onto the spoon and straight down Tilly's neck. I fed her again, not because she was hungry but because I knew it made her feel safe (and shut her up, she couldn't scream with my breast in her mouth). She feel asleep in my arms, I was going to put her down but she continued to whimper and every so often wail in her sleep. I just cradled her in my arms all afternoon. I felt sad as she was in pain and I never want her to be in pain ever again. it hurts me so much. I felt like a bad mother.

I phoned my mum to tell her she'd had her injections. Before I had the chance to say much more she asked "Did you have the Calpol ready?"
Eh? You knew that already?? Why are you telling me that now? It is too late now? From now on, it is going to be my own personal mission to tell anyone I know about the Calpol before their first set of injections.

Mockney Cockney!

Yesterday we went to Mothercare and bought a CD with silly songs to play to Tilly. It has the classics such as 'Tie me kangaroo down', 'Flash, bang, wallop what a picture', 'Chitty Chitty Bang Bang', 'Supercalafraglistic', 'My old man's a dustman' and many more.

I've been talking lots to Tilly. I put her on her changing mat and do the alaphabet with her, desperately trying to make her babble. She likes music so we thought that we'd get this CD and it will last for when she is a little bigger. It has been really hot over the last few days so I've had the windows and back door open. I don't know what the neighbours think of me, I'm dancing all the actions and singing along with my best cock'erney accent. I think I might have to put a limit on it so she doesn't end up as a mockney cockney.

Baby Start

In my desperation to keep getting out of the house, I thought I'd pop along to Baby Start. Described as "A chance for babies to explore a stimulating and sensory environment."
I fed Tilly and she had a sleep so I thought she'd be OK. It was so hot inside the centre, I was led into a waiting area as we were too early. Tilly was fascinated by this new place. A few more mums arrived, they all knew each other and I couldn't even catch their eyes to make a connection they were so engrossed in their convesration. Their babies were older, all about 7 months and all boys. Some more mums arrived and with that we were immediately led down the long, dark narrow corridors into the Baby Start room. The lights were low, there were fairy lights lit up both up against the wall and in fibre optic tubes all over the floor. There were sheets laid out all over the floor with cushions, toys, ribbons, mirrors, clocks and things to chew. It all looked exciting but Tilly is far too small for it. I thought I'd sit down and let her just look. After a minute of quiet Tilly started to cry. I paced up and down with her trying to reassure her it was OK. We had ruined this calming space, all the other babies were older and content, Tilly's cries were getting louder and louder. I was getting more stressed and I just wanted to leave, but I'd only just arrived, that would look rude. I'd look stupid. I went over towards the wall near a corner and sat down. I thought if I feed Tilly she'd be quiet, she fed for a few minutes and then dropped off to sleep. I was left holding her, far away from the others. They all continued to talk about their babies development; they were being weaned, starting to crawl and much more. We are so far behind them, I can't imagine Tilly getting to that point, it all seems so long away. They were talking about returning to work, none of them wanted to. One didn't even have a job to return to. I feel sorry for her, what a difficult position to be in.

Michelle from the SureStart team came over to see me. We talked for a little while. I was embarrassed, everytime I've seen her Tilly has been grizzly, she must think she is such an awkward baby. She's not like this all the time, there are some wonderful moments, she is just worst when we are out. I'd had enough of being a 'Billy no mates' in the corner, so I manoeuvred myself with great difficultly from sitting on the floor (babe in arms) to standing, trying desperately to put my shoes on. Michelle came over to help, she took Tilly who was now crying again as I'd uprooted her. I fumbled to get my fleece back on and my shoes on. Tilly was still crying, once again disturbing the peace and chatter from the others. I left without even putting her coat back on. I got back out into the reception and dressed her there, away from prying eyes. I walked back to the car embarrassed by my crying baby, ashamed of my inability to be able to make new friends and fed up as once again I returned to the house to be alone.

7 week breakthrough

I've finally reached the 7 week mark and what a difference it makes, she is smiling and interacting more and I've started to be able to cope with her worst crying spells without crying myself. I've had sucha good week - but what a struggle to get to this point.

Big girl's clothes

Tilly has been in baby grows since she was born and today she has worn some big girl clothes. It is a strange thing really, I've been desperate for her to get into her bigger clothes but she looks a little less like a baby, so it is exciting but also a little sad. They say they grow up so quickly and now I can definitely see that.


Why do babies clothes have pockets?