"I did a poo"

Are these Tilly's first words?

I've spent a long time umming and ahhing about giving Tilly some food. I was given a pot of HiPP's first tastes apple puree. I thought we'd gve it a shot. I decided to film the moment too just in case she pulled any really cute faces. She seemed to like the apple (through some strange faces), but kept opening her mouth for more so I guess she liked it. It was messy and sticky but quite fun. During feeding, she did a trump, and then a poo which you can hear and then when I asked her what she did she gurgles 'did a poo'. I honestly thought that it was just in my imagination but sure enough I've watched it back and it sounds just right.



I couldn't wait for Richard to come home to show him and then as soon as he thought she said it too, I sent it around the family. I've also submitted it to You've Been Framed and Richard & Judy's pick of the home movie slots.

Matilda has never talked so much. She has been jabbering away all day since tasting that apple. I think I'm going to like weaning, it is lovely to hear her chattering.

White hair!

Oh my goodness. It is now clearer than ever that Tilly is taking her toll on me. I know I'm exhausted, I can feel my body ache. I am bigger than before, my tits are already sagging (even when they are full of milk) and now to top it off I've got white hairs. This morning I've found five white hairs. FIVE. They all seemed to be my natural colour at the bottom so you can almost see the point at which I had her they turned white! It is like a natural timeline displayed in my hair. I know they say you shouldn't pull them out but I had to.

Interesting facts about me

Today I have spent most of the time faffing about on facebook, watching crappy films on YouTube and doing stupid quizzes. This is what I've learnt about myself.

In the 'Which British Comedy Character are you?' quiz, I am apparently Sybil Fawlty
Cool, calm & collected. You always have the upper hand & have a knack for getting others riled up without disturbing a hair on your perfectly coifed head! Known as the town gossip!


In the 'How creative are you quiz?', I am the creative soul.
You are very creative and people around you might think that you are to wierd for them. They don't understand. Stick to your own kind that appriciate your methods of thinking. The world would be nothing without people like you and their creativity. Don't be obsessive though. It might strike back at you in the long run.

And last but certainly not least, in the 'Which celebrity couple are you most like?' quiz, we are Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes
You are Tom and Katie. You prefer to keep you and your family away from the paparazzi. Your big family people and are always putting them first. Although you have a succesful career you always have time for the most important things in your life.



Meanwhile, I notice that my peers have been voting for me and my rankings have changed. Ooh er.

Siobhán's peers have voted her

Most powerful
Most creative
Person with the best profile picture
Hardest worker
#2 most trustworthy
#2 most helpful
#2 person with the best smile
#2 nicest
#2 happiest
#3 most likely to succeed

So there you are. Apparently my social rankings have changed and I now have the answers to all the questions that I never knew I wanted to know before today. Phew. Life can now go on, safe in the knowledge that I am one half of the Cruises and a little like Sybil. I think the latter explains a lot.

Chafing cream

Is there really is a need for 'chafing' cream? there is an advert on the T.V at the moment with balloons personified and then they pop into people, the man dances a little like Omid Djalili. Perhaps if I eat all the chocolate in the cupboard I'll find out.

Ad-Venture

For my birthday Richard bought me a voucher for us all to go to Venture to have our photograph taken. I say it was my birthday present but I think it was secretly a present for him. He totally hit it off with the photographer and as I struggled to keep Tilly awake Richard talked photos, kit, composition, flickr and much more.

The instructions were to wear brightly coloured clothes and bring as many props and changes of clothes for Tilly. So we went with a huge M&S bag full of stuff. Tilly had woken up at the wrong time and I knew she’d clash with the end of the photoshoot.

It started off very well, Tilly was all smiles to the receptionist and the photographer when we met her in the foyer. However, as we walked through the door into the room it was a little dark and she didn’t seem so sure. We reassured her and she was smiley for 10 minutes. I knew we’d done some nice shots but I also know the one I wanted. Richard has taken so many lovely ones of Tilly and me and the two of us together but we don’t have many of the three of us and that is what I am after. I’ve seen the photo I want to recreate: baby in the middle, parents kissing each cheek.

We got Tilly changed into her Tigger outfit, she looked lovely but it didn't last, she was tired and she'd had enough. She did really well, we did about 20 minutes or so of photos and 10 minutes of changing/trying to feed. We called it a day. I hope we've got some good shots. We didn't do the one I wanted but I'm sure there'll be some in there that I'll love.

After we left Venture, Tilly was crying, a lot. I eventually got her off to sleep and we did a quick bit of shopping and then home. When we got home Tilly started screaming, not just ordinary screaming but really loud and it sounded like she was in pain. It went on for over 40 minutes. I panicked. What had made her like this? Where was it hurting? I phoned NHS direct and after asking us some really scary questions, they did what they always do and told us to get an appointment at the doctors today. Meanwhile get her to take some Calpol as they could hear her in the background. Richard phoned the doctors and I gave Tilly the Calpol. The Calpol kicked in within 15 minutes and she was back to normal, smiling and very alert. We kept the appointment at the doctors, she was fine when we went in - typical! After much prodding and poking she was screaming again. The doctor said it could be colic (if you believe such a thing) and to give her Calpol and Ibuprofen. This doctor was funny, he has four children and just said, drugs work, use them when you have to, use them all!

She has been fine this evening. Thank goodness.

A bridge too far

Last night was horrendous. I'm exhausted from Tilly's night feeding but she has always fed well in the night and then gone back down to sleep. My anxiety about getting her to sleep by herself has been high recently and I've tried the crying it out routine for the last two days. The result? it has left Tilly scared and now she won't down down at all. I've felt like a complete bitch over the last two days and I've been in tears trying to do it. The books says I must persevere or I'll give her the wrong associations; that enough crying gets her picked up. I felt like I was getting on top of it. But last night as I tried to put her down after her first night feed, she cried. I am so cross at myself. Why did I have to go mucking about with things? She was doing OK at night, but my desperation to get her right for nursery has made me do something that has taken me back 10 steps. She just wanted to be held, almost scared of going down in her cot. I was too tired to cope and broke down. I walked away leaving Richard to cope with her tears. He got cross as I just left her, but I needed to. It sounds awful and I'm really ashamed to admit it but I see why people reach breaking point with their babies and shake them. I could feel anger and frustration building up and unless I left her I was petrified of the feelings I was having and that I may hurt her. Of course I know I wouldn't but the realisation of the thought in my mind scared me.

I went off to the bathroom and sat there crying, howling in fact. A combination of anger and desperation and with it mixed in, the fear of having thought such bad things. I am really a most horrible unfit mother. How could I think such a thing? I love her to pieces and never want anything bad to happen to her. However, I'm so tired. She wakes on average four times a night for a quick feed or a cuddle back to sleep, she is lovely but exhausting during the day. I used to love my sleep, I used to sleep a lot. Now I'm lucky if I have 3 hours unbroken sleep. Richard never wakes to help in the night, not his fault at all - I breastfeed, it is the burden I have chosen to take. Therefore he can't help with feeding, but sometimes she justs wakes and wants to be cuddled back to sleep, he could do that. But he works, he is also awful when he is tired so I let him sleep. That in itself makes me angry, I'm not cross at him, I'm jealous - I want to sleep. I just want a bit of time off. This motherhood thing is relentless.

A new dawn and a new adventure. We were off to Ironbridge as Richard had got the day off work. I was very embarrassed as we were packing the car, Cheryl (from next door) came up to tell me she heard me in the bathroom last night. Great, I told Richard how I felt, how I felt like I wanted to hurt her - she must think I'm a terrible mother too. So I just put a brave face on and told her it was a bad night, desperately hoping it was too muffled and she didn't hear. I would never hurt my baby, I love her. I'm just tired.

So we went off to Ironbridge and it rained a lot. Tilly was fascinated by my food. We had a nice day out.

I'm going to stop forcing routines on her, they are not doing either of us any good.

Big baby, little baby

We went to see Heather and Brad and baby Maximus today. He looks so tiny. Tilly was huge compared to him.

I've not got on very well trying to do Gina Ford's strict routine. It amazes me that Heather has stuck to it so far! Gina Ford is too strict for me, I questioned her methods and broke all the rules. How can Heather do it? It must be Brad's influence to make her follow it. They feed Max and then put him down to sleep in his pram, they don't hold him or rock him. Blimey - why wasn't I tougher? I've got a baby that needs to be held and rocked to go to sleep.

Mum's birthday meal weekend Part 2

OK, so yesterday was bad enough. Today was a new day and Tilly slept really well last night. She slept from 7pm - 7am with 3 quick feeds. When she woke up she was all smiles. I quickly texted mum to get her to get herself over to the campsite pronto. I really wanted her to spend time with her today, especially if she was being lovely.

W Mum and Prue arrived and it was lovely as they had a bit of time with Tilly, who was finally the baby I've been looking after recently, smiling and babbling.

Wig Wam - Weeeeeeee

The campsite was a little chavvy but the Wig Wam was ace. In effect it was a wooden shed. It had a pitched roof down to the floor and there was barely enough room to stand upright in the middle. We made up the mattress at the far end and there was plenty of space for Tilly's pram at the end. There was a small preparation area, a microwave, a kettle and even a TV. After food, I collapsed on the mattress and watched T.V. Tilly had fallen asleep, probably exhausted after all that crying. Richard and I lay there very relaxed - finally.

Suddenly there was an object coming through the window above me, accompanied by a strange loud high pitched wailing noise. I just flopped on my back stunned, my arms up like I was being taken hostage. Meanwhile, beside me Richard squealed like a girl, his arms flapping, bashing this UFO and was quickly up on his feet (after them flapping a bit too). It was a hot evening on the campsite and some kids had decided to blow up some whistling balloons and shove an untied one through our window. I completely collapsed laughing at Richard's reaction, who was still shaking and was livid. He went straight to the door and shouted at the boys, telling them we had a small baby sleeping. Tilly slept through it all, amazing as the balloon was loud but Richard's squeal was far louder!

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!