Springing for chocolate

It is so nearly spring isn't it? I can smell it in the air. Or is that just down to the fact I have overdosed on daffodils this week...

Are you having a daff?!

Talking of overdosing, I have just troughed half a packet of Oreos (never eaten them before...who'd have thought it?!) and a WHOLE bag of Mini Eggs all by my very merry self. And then guiltily latched the baby on in the hope she might drain a few calories from my appalling choc consumption today. I have no willpower at all. I is, like, well rubbish.

Of course I don't breastfeed purely so I can eat what I like (honest guv) but I know that for every ounce of milk Sweet Child guzzles, approx 20 calories are burned. Bring on the baps, the vessels of nutrition.

And so looking at my packet of Mini Eggs and the Oreos, that baby has got a lot of work to do. Poor kid, hope she likes chocolate milk.

Anyway, I need to man up as I am giving up chocolate, biscuits and sweets next week for Lent. 40 days? Man I can't go 40 minutes without a sugar fix so I am going to be seriously tested. Looking forward to a shed load of pancakes beforehand though. It will involve Nutella and bananas, lemon and sugar, almonds and raspberries. And I might just stick a Mars Bar in one for good measure.

Now, it's Friday night. What are you all doing? And what I am doing? I am sitting on the rug, waiting for all the floors to dry as just done late night housework. But stupidly I am trapped on the rug in the centre of the living room, like I am stranded on a desert island because I didn't think it through while I slopped fresh linen-scented water all over the floor around me.

It will take nearly an hour to dry so I have nothing to do except blog. If I walk on the floor, my footprints will dry and leave marks. Oh god I am so boring. I used to actually have a life on a Friday, believe it or not. I used to drink gin cocktails in fab bustling bars in Bath city centre. I used to go clubbing until the early hours.

Fridays used to be cool. Now today,  I spent two hours traipsing around Asda with Sweet Child in the sling, trying to do a food shop but getting stopped by all and sundry to see the gorgeous baby "what I produced". She is lush, I am gushing with love for her, but two hours in Asda before two school runs is stress city.

So tonight I'd rather be unwinding with a small glass of wine (don't want to upset Sweet Child when she feeds later) and a good film. But the Prince has decided to whine in a reeeally loud voice every 20 minutes and then be fast asleep when I go to check on him. My patience is waning. And now I can't check on him, because I am trapped on my rug island.  The floor is still wet. Darn it.

By the way, wanna see how similar my girls look? This pic below was taken ten years ago when the Princess was three weeks old.

And this pic was taken six weeks ago when Sweet Child was three weeks old. Both are wearing the same dress. Peas in a pod, huh?!

Oh and in between a million nappy changes, wiping baby vom from my shoulder, producing more milk than a Fresian cow and getting trapped on my living room rug, we've hit the beach whenever the sun shows its little pale face...

Warning, my next few posts may be grumpy without chocolate........

Sweet Child O' Mine

Well Sweet Child (as I shall call her) is a month old today...how?!

A month ago, I laboured alone apart from the last half hour when the husband arrived, when I grabbed the gas and air, announced to the midwife that I might possibly need a wee (TMI sorry) and produced my third treasure in just two pushes. Yep it wasn't a wee, it was a baby......

(Oh and let me tell you, after two epidurals and a HIDEOUS previous birth experience, I feel I am allowed to shout it from the roof tops that this birth rocked. It blinking hurt, but it was also incredible).

Sweet Child is settling in well and I can't hold on to the days - they are zooming by. She weighed 6lb 9oz at birth and weighed in at 8lb 2oz this afternoon.  Isn't it amusing how some adults go to get weighed and everyone applauds them when they have shed some pounds, but you are only congratulated as a mother when your precious little one is swiftly becoming a chubster. Otherwise you get a withered look apparently from the health visitor.

Anyway, I am still on cloud nine. My beautiful voluptuous bump has turned into a heap of saggy excess "matter" and you can probably see my boobs from the moon, but my gosh, I wouldn't swap it for all the choc in Thorntons.

It's fair to say I am besotted so if you hate all things baby, look away now. This ain't no cherry tree bargain blog post. This is a post to show why I no longer visit charity shops (for the time being!) read, crochet, have leisurely long baths, blog frequently etc etc. I get nothing done all day. I just indulge in skin-to-skin with the baby and cherish very minute because I will never do this again. Oh no, the husband wants the snip. I wanted to hold a "two brick job" ceremony at Christmas, you know, do the job properly but oddly enough he was rather reluctant...

This teeny tiny little dot has stolen my heart and all the spare time I had up until four weeks ago. I had forgotten how motherhood is such a full-time job in the early days and weeks. The feeding alone is massively time consuming. Some of you may remember I am a breastfeeding peer supporter for new mums and it's my complete passion. It doesn't work for everyone and I do believe the pressure is piled unnecessarily onto new mums to be a success in breastfeeding but you have to work unbelievably hard and constantly to get there sometimes and it isn't always possibly for women.

I found it difficult for the first few days. Especially as Sweet Child sleeps more than my other two did in a whole year and only feeds for five minutes at a time. So I spent hours pumping furiously and eating oats to increase my milk supply. I made savoy cabbages a new fashion accessory and gritted my teeth through the sore nipples. But now I know her, I realise Sweet Child is just a very efficient feeder. This baby girl has only given me one hellish night in the past month. Imagine! I know it won't last so I am making the most of it. She is a very happy and chilled baby. I need one of those this time, believe me I've DONE sleep deprivation and it's not recommended.

Right, want some pics? No? OK, look away now then, quick.....go and make a brew or something.

Minutes old

She lived down my dresses for the first week or two!

Just before being discharged on Christmas Eve

Day old

First walk on beach

The Prince used to wear this

Such a knowing look!

Oh.........

Too cute

Here come the girls

Unsure at bath time

Life down my dressing gown is good apparently

Baby bunting

In the pink (god I love pink!!!)

So that's why I've gone all quiet! Plus I've been bombarded with visitors daily and am trying to get some rest in between.

I will probably hit a few cherry tree shops soon although I've lost my mojo for anything else at the moment. Life with three children is crazy. But wonderful and she slots in perfectly.

The best surprise the Husband could have given me!

Briefly, baby.

I shall blog properly soon but right now, all I can do is type one handed, as my beautiful baby girl snuggles herself against my chest.

Yes, I finally became a mum of three, ten days late on Dec 23rd. It all went wonderfully, although if I am honest, I would never relish going through the labour bit again. It literally felt as if  Britain's Strongest Man had gripped my lady garden between his hands and totally ripped it apart....

But my goodness, I got a perfect peach as a reward at the end. I shall share her with you shortly, as soon as I can prise her off me....and as soon as I can bear to.

But for now, I'm all about the Babymoon. Bear with, normal service will resume soon.

Warning! This is not a baby announcement post. Cos it's late, innit.

Yep, I shall get my (non) laughing gear around this piece of tropical perfection ce soir, to entice out Baby Carol/Noel/Jesus/Holly etc etc.

And before you ask, no I haven't had the baby (does it look like I have?), yes I know I'm massive (thanking you muchly), no I have no idea when he/she will make an appearance (who am I? Derren Freakin' Brown?), no I am not dreading the birth at all (a total lie...) and so on.

Honestly, the school run is taking double the time as the world and his wife interrogate me. A couple of mums are merely looking at me now with a pained expression and walking away.

One mum actually studied my bump on Monday and said: "So you haven't had the baby yet then, have you?"

I was wearing this dress, hardly hides the curves of my belly does it?! Maybe its my hormones but I am beginning to purse my lips at completely stupid questions like that.

Sugar Plump Fairy

RAAAAAH! I feel better for that. Sorry.

I also keep getting felt up by a woman who works in Tesco Express. She keeps leaning over the counter when serving me, and gropes my bump, sighing and declaring: "It will come soon."

But she's been saying this for weeks and there is still no sign, yet I am a week overdue today and getting twitchy about the whole Christmas shindig.

While she fondles my bump lovingly, you could almost forget that there is an entire queue of people behind me, with urgent purchases and tight deadlines. Because this member of staff is simply lost in Babyville. Lost, I tell thee.

Then it gets rather awkward and I turn and face the customers behind me, mouth a "sorry" at them and do my best to prise her off me. Twice a week at least this happens.

I'm all for people touching my bump, I find it fascinating so can understand others wanting to cop a feel. Unless you are Robin Thicke, then I'd find it rather distasteful.

I guess the Tesco lady's reaction to me is far better than her colleague's.

He served me on Monday and greeted me with "Hello dear, where's your moustache?"....

(how would anyone else react to that?)

Admittedly his first language isn't English but it still threw me to the point where I was rendered speechless, finally muttering "I don't know..." before running back to the car to check my face.

What else rhymes with "moustache"....can't think what else he could have been asking me.

Anyway moving swiftly on, I recently came across this shop. Bet there are LOADS of treasures in there, shame it's not a charity shop. How I wish normal sized clothes fitted me.

I have found time for  a couple of cherry tree purchases actually.

This larger cake stand (Scope £1.50) makes me so happy as I now have a family of three!

This little glass jelly mould addition also makes my little family complete.

Mmmmm the smell of my Festive Cheer candle is lush!

So here's hoping that my pineapple will soon make my little family complete.

Derek Trotter, eat your heart out.

Hope to be back with baby news soon!

Christmas time, mistletoe and.....beards

When I said in my last post that I have a thing for men with beards, I didn't believe for a moment that all my dreams would come true.

Look at his cheeky festive hand!

 We've had a festive weekend, and no, not just so I can indulge in fake white beards for my own personal pleasure.

I promised Father Christmas that I had been a good girl but Mrs Christmas pointed at my bump and snorted "I don't think you have my dear!". True, I can't deny it. Shenanigans have happened that make me slightly less good than usual, it's got to be said...

He even said I could sit on his lap, but I didn't want to break the poor chap's knee caps so I left that to the kids.

So we rode the Santa steam train:

 ....and we've been to a Christmas tree festival:

Fake plastic trees.............they were all merry and bright

This was my fave, a tree with a curry theme. Yummo.

You think you've seen it all, then they come up with this.
A poppadom bauble....

Even the angels were made of Indian takeaway menus. Genius.

And we've pigged out on roast  dinners and stuffed our faces with mince pies while all huddled up on the sofa watching The Goonies. I resemble Chunk more and more as each day passes.....

I am nesting nicely now and all my hospital bags are packed. Four days til due date. I'm so busy nesting, I haven't so much as sniffed the inside of a cherry tree shop though. Sorry to disappoint.

I am feeling so Christmassy, even though it looks like this where we live. It's still cold though. Brrrrrrrrr.

Here hair here

The lady in the St Barnabas cherry tree shop gave me some very wise words this week, for finding a girl's name for my baby (I think it's a boy but she was having none of it).

Apparently it's this, so take heed anyone out there who is with child. You  simply walk into a newsagents, pick up a copy of The Sun, turn to page three, but you don't ogle the page three model's breasticles. Oh no, you look at her name. And that is the name you choose for your baby.

I kid you not.

The cherry tree woman was convinced she was having a Gary (I'm guessing it was the 80s). But it turned out to be a girl. And the page three model that day was Sam Fox. I bet her daughter Samantha is oh so chuffed, don't you?

I have zilch boys or girls names this time. But I shall dwell not, it will come to me. And if not, The Sun may have to be my saviour. Ha ha, the woman was so serious I did my best not to smirk.

Smirk I said, not twerk. What IS that all about? I'd feel a right berk if I should decide to twerk, making you all smirk. I have no balance at the moment, dancing is a thing of the past. So is prancing. But not romancing. No I am still all about a bit of romance. Maybe it's me hormones.

You see, the Husband's beard is coming on nicely. Actually, I'd go as far as to say he is looking hot. I MUST try to get a picture but keep forgetting to take a sly one and he is not one for posing.

I have a thing about beards this pregnancy. No, I'm not fancying Brian Blessed or anything yet. And neither do I find Noel Edmonds attractive. But there's something about a hairy chin that is getting me hot under the collar!

Hormones. Blame me hormones

When I was pregnant with the Prince, I had a thing for the rapper 50 Cent. I think the Husband was a bit miffed, as 50 Cent was the polar opposite to my beau in every single way (how I love my skinny, pale Yorkshireman). But oh my! When I was preggers last time, that rapper could have taken me to the "candy shop" any flipping time he liked.

Until I gave birth. Then I was over it. I don't even remotely think about Fiddy these days, and I certainly wouldn't dream of looking for him in da club.

But beards? Man, I even look at the H&M model and the older grey beardy model cardboard cutout in TK Maxx and feel the fire in my chubby loins. How sad is that?!?!

Just hope I don't go off the whole hirsute fizzog thing when Junior arrives because I think the Husband will keep the beard regardless of my lust.....or lack of.

On a different note, I was THRILLED when Kerry sent me these two Ladybird books last week that she found in a charity shop in London, as not got them in my vast collection. Oh they are fab! She's a good girl.

 I am making little hats still but can't get the sizing right. Just made two boys ones but it's hard to know whether they will fit the baby, the four year old or the young Brian Blessed that I married....... 

 Right that's me done. I am due a week on Friday.

Watch this space to hear all about how I moaned and groaned. And that's just the noise I make while trying to get my underwear on every morning so Lord KNOWS the sounds I shall make in labour......

Babies, birthdays, showers and onesies

I only have just over three weeks to go, before Brian/Brenda arrives into the world, adding just a smidgeon of extra chaos into this whirlwind family. If the baby DARES to join this crazy team that is, sometimes it's so noisy I think he/she will simply refuse to make an appearance.

If you're thinking 'bout my baby it don't matter if it's pink or blue.....

Where has the time gone? Well, I am finally truly nesting and resting while the countdown commences. The Husband and I have been sleeping on the sofa bed in our living room, while our hideous "All You Can Eat Carrot, Pea and Broccoli Buffet" bedroom (more on that in a future post) was stripped down to bare wall, plastered and lovingly decorated by my beau. Actually he didn't do the plastering bit but did all the rest in any spare time he had (which wasn't much).

Meanwhile I - looking like Jabba the Hut who had overeaten at Pizza Hut - had to thrash around in a little sofa bed in our lounge, and live for three weeks with the house in complete chaos. I looked like one of those poor obese women who eventually need to be crane lifted from their house. I groaned every time I tried to change position, I dipped into the middle of the sofa bed, my leg cramps were dire and my mood was slumping somewhat. Our mattress was propped up at the top of the stairs and squeezing past it was a mission, our bed was dismantled and propped up in precarious positions all over the landing, the Princess had most of our bedroom stuff in her room.

And all I wanted to do was nest. Yet I couldn't. I couldn't get in our wardrobes or the linen cupboard, I couldn't hoover anywhere. I was seriously fed up.

Imagine if I'd gone into labour last week.........

Now we are back in our bedroom and it's like waking up on holiday. It's calm, serene, fresh and fabulous. And now I can slow my pace down, and concentrate on packing my hospital bags and choosing a pram. Yep, not got round to that crucial thing yet either.

Thrown into the mix in the midst of all this was the Princess's 10th birthday on Saturday. I can't believe how ten years has flown by so fast, it's frightening.

This was her six years ago, aged four!

Chocolate button eyes!

 And her on her 5th birthday. What a dolly.

Here she is waking up on her 5th!

And here is the Princess waking up on her 10th!

All crammed in the sofa bed. Blurred as too early!!!!

She wanted a Onesie party at home this year with her class chums so that's what she got.

We had Saturday morning to reclaim our bedroom, once the carpet fitter had gone, and put the bed back together, other furniture back in, sort out the Princess's room, sort her party food, get the house ready, celebrate her birthday and wait for the party to begin. It was all a little too much for a heavily pregnant whale like me. But it was brilliant and she loved it.

She wanted a chocolate birthday cake for the tea party and I made
 pink sparkly vanilla cupcakes for the girls to take home with their party bags

They all played Twister, scoffed pizza and watched a movie with popcorn and marshmallows and then we played Pass the Parcel. It was a four hour party and they were really well behaved. The Prince had a whale of a time deciding which girl he loved the most!

They are all obsessed with Ylvis singing The Fox. My ears rang after a while but now I can't get the song out of my head!

Yo, this is me at nearly 37 weeks, taken this morning after my midwife visit. Hearing the baby's heartbeat never fails to thrill me. The baby is going nuts today, its movements are almost painful and it is head down. I hope it stays that way.

One direction

T'other direction. Boy bump I think.
It's gone high again, it had dropped last week.

This was me last week:

Bed in lounge. Shudder....

Cherry tree items purchased today are this ASOS top for £4 (bit steep and of course it doesn't fit me now, I've eaten so much cake I've zoomed past my weight gain limit. Whoops).

And a Grobag for the baby, for £1.50. So cute and pale blue is fine whether we have a baby Brian or a Brenda, yah?

And finally, last week my fabulous neighbour friends held a surprise baby shower for me. It was gorgeous! I only have the below pics as am waiting for the better ones to be emailed over.

I am blessed to have so many fab friends who live either next door or just a few houses away. One knits, one crochets, one loves her wine, one has exactly the same sense of humour as me, it's a darn good blend and we had a lovely afternoon.

Just slightly overwhelmed

TOTALLY spoilt!

One made a whole cake stand full of these sweet baby cupcakes...

Now I am reflecting on the forthcoming labour. Wonder which advice to take........

or....

Hopefully be back before I am a mother of three..........yiiiiiiiiiiikes!!!