Paediatric first aid review

Image via: Early Years First Aid

As a parent, and just in general, I'm a bit of a worrier. People can't walk on walls or go up a ladder near me without a constant 'oh please be careful', 'you're going to fall, you're going to fall'. 
So in preparation for everything that I imagine will go wrong with being the parents of a toddler and a newborn Jamie and I attended a half day paediatric first aid course run by Early Years First Aid.

Lyla's Birth Story

I know 8 (EIGHT!) people who have given birth in the past two weeks. That, along with One Born Every Minute starting back has got me thinking about birth. 
I love reading birth stories so thought I would write about Lyla's.

Things that get me through the day....week...life

As I only work part time I spend a lot of time at home, alone with a toddler, who's conversations are usually about goats, hopters (helicopters) and Peppa Pig. Days can be lost in an endless routine of nappy changing, schedules and re-runs of Paw Patrol, all the while feeling a bit shitty about how little your achieving, and how you know your capable of so much more. 

Eating out with a toddler

Its rare the three of us eat out together, between work, nap times and being unable to decide where we want to go, it rarely works out. As it was Mothers Day we decided to make the effort and go out to one of our favourite bars - The Market Bar. Going anywhere with a toddler requires a bit of planning, in order to avoid a meltdown. 
  

First Trimester Essentials

At almost 21 weeks I am well into my second trimester and feeling great after what was a horrible first few months. On Lyla, I had very little symptoms, a little bit of nausea and exhaustion but nothing too bad. This time round was completely different. The sickness was awful, leading to not leaving the house for days on end. 

Behind The Scenes

Two adults, a camera, and a lot of 'Oh Lyla look there's a cat' to get one semi decent picture. This is the edited version, there was 79 photos, the reality of a blog about a toddler. 

Our First Home

We are on the move! Again. From Bridgefoot Street to Manchester, then Christchurch, Blanchardstown, Tallaght, Pimlico and Marrowbone Lane, we've moved quite a bit in our 5 or 6? year relationship. And now we are on the move again. Why? Because we love packing.

Not really, in fact I hate packing. But it looks like this will be our last time having to do it because we have just bought our first home!

Patent shoes & Mama Stripes

Surrounded by bags, boxes and Lyla's toys I am taking a moment to appreciate where I am and the person I am here with, at this time in my life. My life is pretty sweet at the moment and I am beyond grateful for the people who have made it this way. 

Anyway, now to the actual post. Lyla got this dress as a gift for her birthday. At the time it was way to big for her, now it fits her perfectly, if not a little snug around her belly. (Baby bellies = beyond cute). It never ceases to amaze how much a baby can change in such a short space of time. She has about 10 words now, sings the Peppa pig theme tune and despite holding my hand in these pictures can take at least 8 steps unaided.

Her dress is from Gap and her adorable little patent shoes are from Penny's. I think my goal in life is to find a way of wearing patent shoes with socks myself, without looking like a twat. 
Until then I'm pretty happy with these little Zara ankle boots. They aren't leather like my 6387 other pairs of boots, so I feel like I'm progressing with being a bit more experimental sartorially. 

Although the stripes and black Mac style jacket might beg to differ.

The shorts are actually a play suit that I have decided is too young for me (THIRTY THIS WEEK!) but with a jumper covering the low plunge line you'd never know.

Emma: Playsuit - Urban Outfitters, Jumper - Zara, Jacket - H&M, Shoes - Zara

Lyla: Dress - Gap, Cardigan - Pennys, Shoes - Pennys

Did I mention I'm THIRTY this week!?!?

Life Lessons from a Toddler

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*Silly Mummy Moment*

Getting a little bit emotional about Lyla learning to walk. Not because it means she's growing up (which, by the way, is happening way to fast), and not because parenting is involve a lot more chasing; but because of what I'm learning from her. 

Toddlers have so many traits we all aspire to as adults. Motivation, courage, perseverance; no matter how many times that child has fallen down she will get right back up again. 

Failure is not part of her vocabulary (admittedly that stretches to about 5 words at the moment!). She wants to walk, and she is going to keep on trying until she does.
Same with using a spoon. I spend an inordinate amount of time scrubbing weetabix (which is a motherf-er to clean) off her face; my face; the floor; the wall; the window... but the lack of food going into her mouth doesn't even deter her from trying. 

I was at an up styling class yesterday and I couldn't get the hang of one of the styles. (A vintage wave) 

After about half an hour of trying I was ready to give the mannequin a crewcut. I took out my phone and started scrolling through Instagram, I looked at my latest picture, the one above with Lyla walking holding my hand, and got a bit of a reality check. 

I am the worst for letting failure get to me. I have an awful habit of giving up when I find something too difficult and have thought to myself, on many occasions, that I hope Lyla isn't a quitter. Failure, or fear of failure has held me back from doing so many things I could have been great at. It is something I am acutely aware of, and have been proactively trying to fix. This quote is repeated in my head on a daily basis.

                                                                                                                                           Image via Lucy & Lola Creations

Anyway, I put my phone away and tried the style again. And again. And again and again and again, until I created something that vaguely resembles the wave. (Here it is) It was far from perfect, but I was happy enough to have overcome my difficulties and gotten the technique down. Now its about practicing that technique to perfect it. I'm not there yet, but I will get it.

And I have to thank my 15 month old for teaching me this important lesson.

This is the theme tune to this post...if you ignore Aaliyah's dating advice (and diamante choker) and just listen to the chorus. Anyway, tune. 

Tired Eyes

Teething, feeding, too hot or too cold, an over active mind, anxiety and a severe Instagram obsession have resulted in long term sleep deprivation. For 14 months now I have woken every three hours without fail, resulting in some major dark circles and eye bags. #Glam.

The elusive 8 hours sleep is but a distant memory and as a result I have tried and tested every tip and product aimed at making me look less zombiefied. Fake it till you make it...and by make it I mean get a few hours uninterrupted sleep.... :/

 4 hours broken sleep 

#nomakeupselfie ;)

(Excuse the mirror smudge)

Anyway, here's a few things that are working for me:

1. Hydration - Frequent wakings has wreaked havoc on my skin, leaving it dry and ashen looking. I have always drank a lot of water, but have recently upped my game as I've become all to aware that I am entering my thirties and would like to keep those wrinkles and pores at bay a little longer. Water flushes out excess salt from your skin leaving it brighter and less puffy. I also use an oil or serum under my moisturiser to give an extra little boost. Nuxe Huile Prodigieuse is my oil of choice and it is delish.

2. Exfoliate - Exfoliation gives new life to your skin. Removing dead skin cells and dirt trapped deep in your pores, it instantly makes your skin look bright, vibrant and smooth.

3. Eye Products - The old school trick, of chilled spoons and tea bags helps de-puff before using some products. In the morning I use Mac Fast Response Eye Cream, which is 'A caffeinated cream that de-puffs, firms and erases dark circles and fine lines'. Its good, very good. Before bed I use Clinique All About Eyes, which feels incredibly moisturising, exactly what I need after a day of blood shot, tired eyes. 

4. Make up - Mac Prep and Prime is my holy grail product. Usually it is enough to wear under my eyes on its own but on days where I'm looking particularly bad, its best coupled with Mac Pro Long Wear Concealer. Then just lash on some bronzer and I start to look a little more alive.

5. Sunglasses -  Sunglasses, big sunglasses are every tired Mama's best friend. These ones from Asos are exactly what I need. 

One Year.

Oh hi toddlerhood. You're awesome.

I turned one last week. Saw my first monkey, giraffe and elephant. Ate 3 varieties of cake. Went on a carousal. Got my very own kitchen. Wore a tutu. Ate an ice cream. Petted a dog. Stayed up late. Had a lie in. Gave my mama extra cuddles. Waved to a cat. Learnt to pull myself up on to anything. Put my dads glasses back on his face. Crawled naked. Decided Michael McDonald 'Yah Mo Be There' is my theme song. And have almost got my first ever tooth.

This getting older thing ain't half bad.

All black

"We used to go on holidays to Dun Laoghaire", these are the words I'm going to hound Lyla with when she's older and off on a J1. Because that's exactly what Jamie and I have done, twice. We have went to Dun Laoghaire on holidays. TWICE.

This is something I heard none stop as a child, but my mam got to go somewhere a little more exotic, they went to Bray.

We had planned on going further. Like on an actual holiday, but decided to be responsible grown ups and save the money. Plus we prefer to holiday in September. ;)

Anyway, we went out on our little mini break. As in, got dressed up and went out. This is a bit novel for us. The plan was dinner and drinks. A typical grown up affair.

Dinner happened, but as per usual we ate too much. (Totally recommend The Hen House - food is delish) 

So a walk along the harbour after dinner was called for. Obviously followed by a Teddy's ice-cream. And by that stage we were too tired and cold to go out so we were tucked up in bed by 10.30. 

One day we might get our lives back, until then I'm pretty happy with my glass of wine on the sofa and falling asleep before the film ends. 

(....And this is what I wore on our night out)  

Culottes, top, shoes - Pennys, Jacket - H&M

Motherhood

I'm a little late with this post, but the last week and a half has been hectic. You see, this week saw all the craziness that is a firstborn’s first birthday.

So, I am now the insanely proud mother of a one year old little girl....and holy crap is motherhood incredibly different to what I had envisaged.

I've mentioned before how awkward I was around children. I didn’t think I had a maternal bone in my body. I knew I would love my child and be a good Mam but never in a million years did I think that I'd be the type of mother I am today.

I was always a little bit selfish, very much into doing whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted to do it. The thoughts of losing that freedom was probably what I feared most about being a parent. That and the loneliness. Because now matter how amazing your support system is (and mine is amazing) you'll still spend an awful lot of time alone with one person, who can only communicate through tears and screams. In addition to these fears, I had people repeatedly telling me 'sleep now', 'go out for dinner', 'throw away your skinny jeans', because "there'll be none of that once the baby arrives".

But what no one tells you is just how amazing it is.

Yes, it is exhausting and scary and frustrating. And yet, I have never felt so alive and so complete. I laugh more than I ever have done and my heart constantly swells with pride over ‘ordinary’ moments spent with Lyla. Like how she will point at a dog and say 'Oof' (she's so clever) or shout 'Hiya' at strangers to get their attention.

See?! That there! That's the kind of mother I never thought I'd be. When she says 'Oof', some people might not think it’s a big deal. Except it kind of is a big deal, because I'm her mother. I created her, I gave her life. And that makes nothing about motherhood ordinary. Something I never understand until I gave birth.

Each day is filled with raising this little person, creating memories, filling her with confidence and love and building her future. That's not ordinary, that's amazing.

So to all my pregnant pals, forget all the negative information and advice you’re hearing. Your days are going to be filled with love, laughter and adoration. Your going to be somebody’s world; somebody’s hero. I can happily, proudly say that being a mother is the most special thing I will ever do.

So, to the person that makes me so proud every day: Lyla Jane, you have turned my world upside down and inside out. You light up my life. You make me so proud. You make as happy as anyone could ever hope to feel.

In short: I love you. I love you. I love you.

Week 52.2

36 hours, 23 mins and 56 seconds until B-Day.

Life is just zooming past my eyes. It feels like only yesterday I was being born and now I'm almost a fully fledged toddler.

Well, I'm sorry. You can't make me grow up if I don't wanna!

I don't even think my mom wants me to get older, she keeps saying she wishes I could be a baby for longer, so that's what I plan on doing.

So, I've reverted back to the good ol' days waking every two hours for Mom cuddles, refusing all foods (except cake, I'll eat all the cake), hanging out in my moms arms 23 hours a day, and you can forget walking, I'm staying firmly on my tush. Nuh-uh.

#Babyforever.

#Lylaturnsone

Week 52.1

Week 52 - 63 hours, 34 minutes, 29 seconds until I'm one

Its all downhill from here. 

Week 50

15 days, 9 hours, 51 minutes and 12 seconds until I'm one.

And you know what that means?

CAKE!

Mom and Dad have been discussing what cake to get, Mom says she's going to bake something healthy, Dad says chocolate. I'm siding with Dad on this one. He's a cake enthusiast, knows his stuff.

This will be my face all day...

CAKE! CAKE! CAKE!

#cake

Week 46

March 28th 2015. The day my mind was opened forever. 

And it all started with a little bit of crawling...

You see, with crawling as each day passes I become more and more cultured.  Once upon a time, my experiences were determined by what was within reach. Literally. A 2 foot radius defined my interests, tastes and experiences for the first ten months, two weeks and three days of my life.

I never knew the joy of banging pots on a tiled floor; or the visual pleasure of a room chaotic with the colour of toys; and most importantly, the flavours on offer with every mouthful of food. 

For months now my mom has been feeding me carrots and the likes, never letting on that there was so much more on offer. Well I am in revolt. 

No longer will I sit in my chair and eat what is given, nuh-uh. Now, when I can see a scattering of crumbs by the sofa or a some soil by the plant, or better yet, the spongy 'baby-proofing' stuff around the TV, I am free to indulge. Delicioso. 

My Mom keeps testing out new recipes, to try and get me to eat her food again. 'You're gonna love this!' she says, I act all interested, put after teasing her with a pea or two (she goes for it every time!) I simply sit back and smush the rest up. (For you beginners out there, I've found rice to be particularly excellent for smushing.) 

It's not that her cooking isn't nice, its just my taste buds have developed. My Dad says I'm a regular Gor-Mett. I think I've already outgrown their simple, uneducated taste buds. Whereas I am sampling the finest food available on the carpet,they revert to the same thing again and again. Really?! Ham sandwiches again Dad?! Tragic. 

In other news, my hair is OUT OF CONTROL. Srsly. 
I had been rocking the mullet, but its gone a bit wild. I've started brushing it myself because my Mom is slacking (and she calls herself a hair stylist?) It seems, a comb has no effect over this barnet. My Mom says I'm too young to use a straightener so I've taken to holding it down with hair clips until it sorts itself out.

In the meantime though, it does kind of make me look like kind of a badass. So it's not all bad.

Laters xx

Nappy Changing

One word: Terrifying.

My first nappy-induced panic attack came even before my baby. It was at my baby shower and was a baptism of fire. We were playing a game which involved changing and dressing a doll's nappy against the clock.

If you know me, you'll know I was never really child-friendly. I hated when people came at me with their kids and I had to act all interested and maternal.

I just never knew how to act in the presence of a baby.  Do I talk to it? How do I talk to it? Is there any point? And god forbid you would ask me to hold it. The pressure. I was literally a big bag of awkward.

 Excuse the quality of the photo, from my baby shower. The fear on my face.

My friends and family knew this, so the games at the baby shower were pretty much designed to stress me out (as far as I can see.) I left that day with a million gifts and the hope that they would teach you the very basics at the antenatal classes. They don't.

Things were looking up after Lyla was born, when the mid-wife cleaned her up and dressed her for me. All was well until Jamie was sent home and I was brought back to the ward with the baby. Panic set in.

I rang the bell for the mid-wife who was up to her eyes. When she arrived, I came clean and told her I had absolutely no idea what I was doing and that I probably shouldn't be left in charge of this tiny human. With a knowing smile, she assured me that it'd be grand. I wasn't so sure.

An example of my shoddy nappy work

Lyla slept the whole night (the first and last time for that to happen!) while I hovered nervously, checking to see if she was still breathing every 22 seconds or so. The next morning I watched in panic as the doctors went around to check over the newborns. I just kept thinking I've been rumbled. They will take one look at how I put her nappy on and know I have no idea what I'm doing. They would judge me and think I'm a terrible mother. I mean who can't put a nappy on?

Bizarrely, the didn't voice any such concerns. And after my fifteenth nappy that same day, I had kind of developed a knack.

An example of my seasoned nappy work

I actually began to kind of enjoy it (in most circumstances.) And I especially relished watching the fear etched on Jamie's face when he stepped up to the plate. I felt like a combat veteran watching a new recruit tentatively taking their first steps onto the battlefield. 'You'll be fine Marine. Just remember: 'Know the enemy' and 'Preperation is key'.

I'd have more war medals than I could fit on my chest if that were the case after some almighty poonamis and unexpected guerrilla battles, but I have developed from that raw recruit into someone who is ready for (almost) any challenge and who secretly looks forward to the odd explosion or two.

I've kind of gotten lost in a metaphor, but what I'm trying to say is I no longer fear The Nappy.

Week 42

The art of movement. Elusive and yet so compelling.

I'm almost 10 months old so I decided I best get going on the ol' moving. My Dad's Playstation has been calling out to me from across the room. Lots of wires for pulling, new surfaces to scratch and twisty things for twisting. Every girl's dream.

It's about four toy lengths away from my playmat, and I've been plotting my route for a week or so now. I was going to sketch out a map, but then I scrunched up the paper because scrunching is soooo much fun.

So when Mom was distracted last week, I decided my moment had arrived. I've developed a technique I've been calling 'The Bumshuffle,' which involves...well, involves shuffling one's bum along the floor. While Mom was playing with her shiny toys in the sink with the bubbles (which she loves doing!), I made my break.

Within a couple of shuffles, I had reached the Promised Land. Man, oh man, that Playstation. It was everything I hoped and more.

Emboldened by this new ability to discover the world, I've been weighing up where I might go next. Some of my pals have a different technique, called 'crawling' I think, and Mom keeps telling me to try it, but I'm not so sure.

Just for a lol sometimes, I pretend I'm going to crawl to get her excited, and just as she sits up, I drop back onto my bum. It's lol.com. She falls for it every time.

So, she's going away this weekend, and I'm going to stay in my Nanna's. She has loads of cool things for scratching and scrunching, so I think I might just give crawling a whirl. A little holiday treat, you know yourself?!

I'll let you guys know what happens. If you can keep up with me. LOL.

xxx

Wearing my official 'Award For Bravery' sticker after a blood test this week

Update: I wrote this last week, but my mom was too sick (*cough* lazy) to post it. Decided to keep them all hanging on a little longer. 

Baby Brain

Baby Brain.
I got it, I got it bad.


When you become a parent, something happens to your memory. You can recall, word-for-word, every baby article and book you've read, and every baby fact the Internet throws at you, no matter how relevant or unbelievable. You remember every moment, every development and every poo-nami(!)

And a million funny stories to accompany each memory, like the time your baby ended up in Ikea wearing a scarf as a dress and gloves on her legs. Yeah.

Adding all this new information obviously pushes other stuff though.

For me, that other stuff is everyday, basic stuff. Like the abilities to make a cup of tea, remember names or do grocery shopping. I can often be found standing in a room staring blankly, trying desperately to recall why I was there.

The reason for my memory loss

So I have a kind of system, based on lists, reminders on my phone and the oft-spoken phrase 'remind me to...' My secret weapon is repeating what I have to do under my breath until it is done. So if you ever run into me, and I'm chanting 'Bins...Bins...Bins...' you'll might understand why.


I kind of thought that by now, with Lyla being 10 months old, I'd be back to normal, or is this is the new normal? Do all mams have terrible short-term memories?


The jury is still out on whether baby brain actually exist. I imagine it is actually a by-product of exhaustion, the busyness of parenthood, and the crazy hormones.

Its not the end of the world, but a couple of extra GB of memory wouldn't go amiss.

So to all the people I've called the wrong name, or haven't texted back, or that don't get the same hair colour off me twice in a row, I apologise. Please forgive me, my mind is simply in overdrive trying to decide whether Lyla should have banana or blueberries with her porridge.