old, me?

People say to act your age not your shoe size – now I’m a size 3, how nice would it be to be able to act like a 3yr old! I could have someone brush my teeth, wash my face and dress me, I could scream out ‘Let it Go’ at the top of my voice in Sainsburys and have people think I’m adorable I wouldn’t have a care in the world, for my world would be to eat, play and sleep, with the occasional musical number!

As it is I am turning the big 3 0 next month and I am not really sure how I feel about it yet, I have nothing planned (hoping hubby has that covered but this could be my first terrible 30yr old mistake!) and to be completely honest I actually only feel 21-ish.

The other day my age well and truly hit home, whilst out for a walk with the kiddos we spotted a lad roller blading. I’m not sure what it is but I always get a little nervous when passing teenagers, its not because they intimidate me – truth be told its because I actually think that I am ‘down with the kids’ I honestly think that they must look at me and maybe age me in my early 20’s?!?!? I passed him honestly thinking to myself that I could still do that, I very, very nearly stopped to ask him about if he can grind or do jumps. I was even going to mention how I used to play roller hockey in my mighty ducks shirt?!?!!? Agrhh! I am so glad that I stopped and took stock of how I may have appeared to him… yellow mac (it was spitting!) pram with a newborn screaming, and an unruly pre-schooler wearing a tutu, a mum, old! I have made a little promise to myself that my 30’s are going to be my decade, I am going to step out of my comfort zone, try new things and push myself personally and professionally. I’m going to try and be a better baker (by which I mean not burn every cake I make) a better mum (put my phone down more and be more present) a better wife (maybe cook for him once or twice?!) and maybe just maybe welcome another little T!

I have one month left of being in my 20’s and to say that they have been jammed packed is an understatement, there has been tears, laughs and kids! I have moved to Bristol and come home to Wales again, married my soul mate, kept and made some wonderful friends, travelled the wilds of Western Canada, survived 3 weeks in a van on a road trip with only 3 gears, swam in the chilly seas of West Wales, laughed a lot, cried a fair deal, loved and lost, worked for my independence and my greatest achievements of all welcoming little miss s and master r into the world.

20’s Thank you, you’ve been pretty good!!

Bring It

pushing my luck

Its Friday night, I am in my lazy’s and the littles are in bed – I am also eating peanuts trying to be healthy imagining they are chocolate buttons! In a quiet moment it’s great to reflect and I cant help but chuckle about a day I had last week, it pretty much sums up my life lately and if you didn’t laugh you would crack up!

The days goal was simple – get paint for kitchen and do a food shop. This sounds easy doesn’t it?! Add two kids, one tired mum and a few hefty rain showers to the mix and we had all sorts of fun!

After a morning for little miss s in music and at a friend’s house we made our way to Newport. I decided to go to a retail park where I could get paint and food only parking once…

So…park, pram out of boot, baby out, toddler woken up and dragged out of car, into shop

In we go to Wicks to try and find the paint for the kitchen, no paint for the kitchen but they did have some blackboard paint for a DIY blackboard I was planning so we left with one tin of blackboard paint.

So… back to the car, pram in boot with paint. It’s raining now and we have no coats so cue manic dash to the car and back to Aldi for the food shop. Bit of a dilemma as master r is asleep so do I wake him up and put him in the trolley baby seat or keep him in the car seat?

Car seat it is, on one of those trolleys with a tray – only issue with this is that at 5ft I cant see a bloody thing, this was made very evident when I crashed into a display on entering the shop. So massive bang accompanied by master r waking up and letting everyone know about it and also little miss s who really, really needed to sit in the trolley. For a quiet life (and you really do have to pick your battles!) little miss s is now in the trolley and we are getting all ‘supermarket sweep’ about this shop and getting it done as soon as we can. But something catches my eye.. Blackboard pant – I need blackboard paint, great, in the trolley it goes. We then pay, with just one screaming kid as little miss s has managed to eat a plum through the wire packaging it came in…great.

So… back to the car (in the rain with no coats) baby in, round the car, toddler in, wipe toddlers face, boot open shopping in on top of pram wheels. Boot shut and then the mad mum dash to the trolley park whilst you leave your kids in the car – can’t find another trolley to plug the money thing into so forfeit the £1 as I am now puffed, quiet far away from the car and getting rather wet.

This was when I made a huge mistake – I should have gone home, at this pint the day wasn’t too bad, but no I decided to drive 10mins to the next town to try B&Q for paint.

So… park, shopping out of boot, then pram out, shopping back in, baby out, grumpy sleepy toddler out, into shop.

Paint is found in record time and with little fuss so we get two tins and pay with no issues. And as B&Q is next to TKMaxx it would have been rude not too have a quick look at the home bits and bobs – BIG mistake!!!!! Cue 5mins in the shop and I have two very bored children who were not scared to let the whole of the shop know – we make a swift exit, only after little miss s ran off, yes I was ‘that’ mum yelling at their kid across the shop.

So… back to the car, baby in, toddler in, boot open, shopping out, notice the extra tin of blackboard paint…crap! Pram in, notice that the two tins of paint that I just bought are tile paint NOT cupboard pant…pram out, shopping in, baby out, toddler out back into shop.

Ok by now I was getting a bit tired and just really wanted to go home – so back into the shop to change the paint and wait for the lady that can do refunds and exchanges. By this point little miss s was VERY bored, she demonstrated this by swinging on the exit barrier whilst I waited to pay, master r on the other hand just screamed!

So I did what every mother would do at this point… offered the lady at the till a two for one offer on children. She actually laughed and said ‘no way!’ – how rude, my little cherubs are a delight! And back to the car we go..

(yep still raining!) Baby in, toddler in, boot open, shopping out, pram in, shopping in, mum in and home!

So the lesson learnt – don’t try to do too much in a day with two kids and half your brain. You also really don’t need two tins of blackboard paint – but the two bottles of Aldi Prosecco were a must!

Team Thompson... note the bags under my eyes!

Team Thompson… note the bags under my eyes!

taking stock

wow! How things have changed here in Thompson towers. My last blog was over 3 months ago and gave you all an insight into the world of pregnancy… that period is now well and truly over!!

I’d like to introduce Master R, born on the 29th May via elected C-Section and the little mummy’s boy is settling in nicely. (finally!)

Master R

It has taken me up until now to find time to write a blog as over the last 9 weeks I have been totally up to my eyes in nappies, bottles and toddler tantrums! I had forgotten what having a newborn was like, how they are relying on you for everything and how lost you can get in their stare whilst feeding. Over the past two months I have had ups and downs and lots and lots of tears (happy ones too!)

It is hard to admit but I can honestly say hand on heart that I have found the second child experience totally exhausting – my choice to have an elected C-Section was so right for me in the long term (no one wants to shit-sneeze!) but for the first few weeks I was convinced that I had made a terrible decision, as I battled with the ‘I didn’t give birth’ demons and how blinking painful the recovery was. Now, I like to think that I have a pretty high pain threshold but this hurt…lots! Mentally I was so tired as Master R failed to settle at all, he cried ALL the time and nothing would calm him down, in my mixed up mind it was him getting his own back as he had been evicted before he was ready! Add to this feeling my completely crap tits… yes I would love to breastfeed my children and if another doctor asks me if I tried hard enough I am going to slap him with my broken boobs (sorry totally another post altogether!) mastitis and thrush and just blood made feeding soo painful that by week 2 I was done.

Hand on heart the first six weeks sucked! I know I shouldn’t say this, I know I should be in this brand new baby bubble of love and wistful looks and it should have been love at first sight… it wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong I love the little monster and always have, I just didn’t like him very much for the first six weeks of his life, hence tears and guilt pretty much everyday. I think Dan thought I was having a mini breakdown (again!) he even grassed on me to the midwife!

Then I went on a hen do.

My constantly crying baby and troublesome toddler were abandoned by their mother and left with their Dad (sorry Dan!) probably at a time when my feelings should have been taking a back seat. But sorry I went, I drank and danced and laughed and had a good time, I was allowed to be me again. In doing so I missed my little crying baby and troublesome toddler and for this weekend I am forever grateful. I was able to take a breath and go back in for round two feeling refreshed and ready.

And you know what – I think I’m winning round two. Master R has settled down and is a smiley and content(ish) little man and as for little miss s, well she is still insisting on lots of cuddles with master r but at least she has stopped putting her fingers in his mouth! As for me, I’m ok – its hard but it was never going to be easy but it hurts how much I love my little family, and I think I my have to buy some shares in Prosseco!

wonky, windy relaxing

I ventured into new territory this evening – I attended a relaxing anti-natal birthing class. It pretty much is what it says on the tin, a class to help you relax and encourage the best birth you can possibly have. This is not something that I ever did with little miss s and first time round found myself a little naive when it came to the actual birth bit. No such luck this time round, I have little anxieties about everything, will I go all natural, opt of a sunroof joby or will the little one decide for itself with the position of the placenta?!?!

Add to these birth questions the never ending Bells Palsy saga and the fact that we are moving house next week and I am a little stressed. I think Dan may have got the picture this morning when after the devil reincarnated itself as little miss s at 2am this morning for an hour of screaming, kicking and general crapyiness, come 3am as quickly as it came it went and I was told to leave her alone so she could go to sleep?!?!? Oh and I was totally overjoyed at hearing her wonderful morning welcome of ‘MUMMY, MUMMY I need a poo’ at 6am – then to get her ready and off to nursery whilst singing the Jungle Book/wheels on the bus before a whole day in the office. A day that I survived purely based on the amount of bread I consumed… hot cross bun anyone?!

And so, to say that I fancied a bit of relaxation tonight was an understatement and when Dan suggested a fish and chip super before I left for the class I was thrilled, tonight was starting well! I wasn’t too sure what to expect from this class and as with most things during pregnancy went with an open mind hoping to learn a little something but really to have a little nap in a peaceful and calming environment, far far away from Peppa Pig! And we started off well, the ladies were lovely and welcoming and like me loved to share a births story and moan about this weeks aches, pains and appointment scares.

The core aspect of the class was focused around learning to breathe and stay calm during labour, to relax your mind, body and soul and all that jazz. This I’m afraid was when my issues began… I am physically unable to relax my face – the Bells Palsy means that the righthand side of my face is forever tense, I just cant relax it and then instead of relaxing I’m concentrating and thinking about relaxing and my mind is in overdrive with, relax, relax, stop thinking and relax… a viscous non relaxing circle! Another of my major issues was that I had fish and chips for tea. Now fish and chips give me wind – normally not too bad but in pregnancy it is sooo much worse and when your trying to relax your entire body whilst on all four position instead of relaxing your mind is racing…don’t fart, don’t fart, don’t fart!!! So in essence I spent the whole time over thinking everything and trying really really hard not to fart. I may have sneefarted (snezzed and let a little one out) at one point but I don’t think anyone noticed?! O god I am gong to be forever known as the girl who looked like she was chewing a wasp who had flatulence problems.

I must say though as I said earlier I think Dan got the message as I was welcomed home with a hot bath, candles and incense (ok WAY too much incense but it was the thought that counted!) and farting in the bath is just the perfect way to relax!!

s1

This is her crafty face!

s2

and hoommmm

s3

The boy done good with the candles, but did leave in the non slip croc!


it’s not always the same story…

When you become a mum you have endless conversations with fellow new mums about your pregnancy and birth experiences and it soon becomes apparent that what they say is true… everyone is different! 

Little did I know that my very own pregnancies would be so very different;

The first with little miss s was full of anticipation and wonder, I spent the first three months dying to tell everyman and his dog – looking into the ‘essential baby buys’ what needs to be packed in my hospital bag and endless web research on what happens week-by-week. I obsessed over the little things from, is this morning sickness to is my bump the right size? We had every test going thinking that this was essential and what you had to do – we attended the classes and read the books, we were ready(ish). We even found out the sex and named our little angel at around 25 weeks – we spent the remainder of the pregnancy trying to keep both a secret from our families…that didn’t really work!!

This first experience felt like it took ages to progress and I looked forward to each midwife appointment, learning more about this little person growing inside of me. Don’t get me wrong, along with my curiosity came fear and dread –I was going into the un-known and didn’t to the full extent imagine how much my life would change after the little arrival. I spent the 10 months (yes its 10 months people not 9!!) eating what I wanting and generally being a little pathetic, sleeping and resting at any given opportunity and man did I milk it with the hubby, as a result I put on 3 stone, which for someone who only just reaches 5ft wasn’t the easiest to pull off.  And then finally at 40+1.5 weeks the little monster affectionately known on here as little miss s arrived and became part of our little family. 

I enjoyed my first experience of pregnancy and at no point ever believed anything could go wrong, it didn’t (ok bar Bells Palsy but that is more of a blip!) and I was lucky, little miss s is the most precious and loved person in both mine and Dan’s world and this made my second pregnancy experience all the more heart breaking. 

We always knew that we wanted little miss s to have siblings and when last spring I found out that I was expecting again we were both over the moon, the age gap would be a prefect 2.5 years and we both felt that we were more than ready for our next family challenge, even if it was a little bit of a shock! As with pregnancy #1 we were positive and felt like this was our time, I was however feeling like death and couldn’t seem to keep anything up (I seem to have the opposite to morning sickness!) on some days I was unable to venture 5 metres from the loo and found myself staying home with little miss s to avoid any potential ‘episodes!’. To add to our excitement the little one was due on  New Year’s Eve, not the best planning but it would make for an interesting Christmas! Our 12 week scan came round and both Dan and I waited  with great excitement to catch a glimpse of our newest addition… Now when everything goes really quite in the scan room and the nurse gives you a look that can only mean one thing, it generally does. It turns out that pregnancy #2 was not meant to be – my heart broke in an instant. The rest of this pregnancy experience is private I’m afraid and the moments, conversations and emotions that followed will remain between Dan and myself and be something we will never forget. All sorts of feelings go through your mind, and you think you’ll never get over it or want to put yourself through it ever again, which leads me onto pregnancy #3…

I have mentioned on this here blog before that I may have gone a little mental… the first 12 weeks of pregnancy #3 was a mixture of stress, anxiety, panic attacks, fear and an overwhelming feeling of dread. I did not want to believe that all would be fine as I did that last time. This time round I did not allow myself to think ahead, we took each day as it came and muddled our way through to our first scan. At 12 weeks, we were terrified – Dan was my rock and at the sight of our baby our hearts skipped a beat – there it was in all its moving, heart beating glory… and relax!

Normal service kind of resumed, we allowed ourselves to think about our baby and to even start thinking of names…the arguments have begun!! This time round everything could not be more different, I have had to completely change my diet as it seems diary just does not agree with me and by doing this I have nearly eliminated the ‘episodes’ so there has been no chocolate, cake, cheese, yoghurts, milk over the last 20 weeks (seriously nearly died over Christmas!) and when I say ‘no’ I may have cheated a few times just to test my tolerance! I have not put on any weight really and am being very careful with my diet – I am very aware that what I do can directly effect my unborn child. Look after yourself, look after them!

At 25 weeks gone, my bump is growing and so is my excitement and love for the little person growing inside of me as it did with all of them – pregnancy number three, baby number three we cannot wait to meet you. (15 weeks and counting!)

Will I get pregnant again?!… we’ll see! For every pregnancy for me (for many it’s different, if we were all the same it would be boring!) there is very much a baby and you are a mum, be it 2 weeks or 40 they become a part of your life, your past and your future – it’s just you may not get to meet them all. They shape the way you cherish all of your nearest and dearest and I would like to say thank you to mine as without them I would have without a doubt gone prober mental!

s4 s3s2 s1
Just like pregnancy these kid things are one of a kind too!

family1
Looking forward to becoming four x

#100HappyDays

Whilst perusing the world of blogging I came across a new and intriguing project, the 100 Happy Days challenge.

The challenge… post a photo everyday for 100 days of something that makes you feel happy, that might even be something as small as the time on the clock when you’ve had an unexpected lie-in!

2013 was a rather tough year and at some moments it was rather hard to stay upbeat and happy – this little challenge will help me to take stock, pause and enjoy all the little things, appreciate how lucky I am and record all those little snippets of smiles. I have found myself being a little glass half empty lately so it is about time I shook it up a little. 100 photos, 100 days all recorded on the happy place that is Instagram, here goes!

Picture 2

style v’s substance

I have posted in the past about my ‘Mummy Wear’ the fat pants, big jumper and slippers… well now that I am with child number two I find myself changing into this mummy wear as soon as the door is shut behind me. Top of my Christmas list this year was a dressing gown and slippers! Is it ok to turn into a chav of the night rather than lady of the night (ok maybe not lady of the night, but you get my drift!) as soon as it turns 8pm… who am I kidding 5pm?

And as many things do, it got me a’thinking about my ‘style’. I recently read somewhere that there is a distinct ‘mum’ style of skinny jeans, stripy top and converse trainers – whilst reading and totally disagreeing with this statement I was wearing skinny jeans, a stripy top and converse trainers… time to mix it up a little.

Since the arrival of little miss s two and a half years ago (OMG!) I have actually found myself with a little more confidence when it comes to dressing –I had never really been the shy dress to hide type, or the look at me look at me type, I stayed rather boringly in the middle of the fashion howha and wore what I saw others wearing. Since S I seem to care a lot less about what other people think and tend to wear something if I like it. It may look odd but if I like it then who cares right? This new found confidence / arrogance may also have something to do with the Bells Palsy, with such a visually striking condition I have learnt over time (often the hard, slowly, painful, ever so slightly over dramatic emotional way) that your appearance is not everything – confidence and how you carry yourself have an awful lot more umph in everyday life. I also find myself maybe trying to stand out a little and look a little differently now – I find that I now tend to dress my personality rather than for looks. I am a dunagree, bobble hat, slipper, onesie wearing kinda gal and if you don’t like it, well, your missing out because dungarees are the BOMB!

And than BAM I am presented with a whole new challenge – dressing an ever growing bowling ball, not to mention the ballooning boobies! I do have to say that I after starting off so well with my ‘no leggings in pregnancy’ policy I have failed. I am only 22 weeks and not even half the size I am going to end up, but seriously there are only so many times I can tie my jeans up with a hair bobble. Buy maternity jeans I hear you cry… have you seen maternity jeans?! To get a decent pair you have to spend £30 at least and even then its under the bump or over the bump, skinny jean, flared, boyfriend style… in my current state of mind I am in no position to make important decisions like that. Little miss s’ future pre-school, yes, maternity jeans, no. Anyway I digress, leggings, I have allowed myself to wear them but on one condition – that they are as mad and colourful as how I feel at the moment and hey if people are looking at your legs they aint looking at the bump or face! I even bought and wore a jumpsuit last week (not maternity but ever so stretchy!) which was great and didn’t look half bad, although pregnant people need to use the loo a lot – getting naked everytime did become a little old. Revelation number two was that I wore a bikini swimming… the less said about that the better, but does anyone else try on their swimmers before going swimming – just in case 1. They don’t fit or 2. To make sure your trimmed!? I am learning to be a little more adventurous with my clothes, and little miss s isn’t really old enough yet to die of embarrassment so I’m rolling with it!

So the bump dressing adventure begins, but just to be sure, its never acceptable to wear pj’s out of the house right?!

me1

the jumpsuit!me2the leggingsme3less said about this the betterme4ahhhh and relax

And yes these are in black and white as its more flattering… still vain!

feeling urgh…

Lately with the changing body and impending addition to our family I find myself with a short temper and no patience whatsoever! Poor little miss s has had the brunt of this over tired feeling – I think I can safely say that I have been having a bad mum week.

It was so bad that after an eventful music group where she managed to knock one child over, shut a door on another and wet herself on the way home, I gave up – the thought of walking all the way to the shop with the monster (its like 200 meters!) filled me with dread, so I hoped across the road for a chip shop saviour, the chip butty! This leads me on to more mum failings in the 5 a day category – the pang of guilty struck tonight when I served up fish fingers and potato croquettes and whilst reading through the nursery handbook realising that she would require a packed lunch… like everytime she goes meaning that people will also see what she has for lunch! Don’t get me wrong she eats fruit and when promised a treat from the shop will more often than not opt for blueberries! But as usual mum could do better!

Another recent change to our routine is that I don’t wake up! All of you mums will know that as soon as that little bambino pops out you are programmed to wake up and generally not fall into a deep sleep, like ever. You wake at very cough or sneeze and have that sixth sense of what disturbs them in the night. This week Dan has woken me up with ‘its your turn’ this would suggest that he has already taken a turn!?! (or, he’s a crafty liar) Not once this week have I heard little miss s in the night, maybe it just means that I am subconsciously training Dan in the art of toddler taming for when I have my hands full with little or mister Thompson number 2 or the exhaustion has just taken its toll, good luck trying to wake me at 9 months preggers!

In light of my recent mother failings Dan has really bloody shone at the whole Dad thing…this just makes it suck that bit more! Where I used to have the patience he has stolen it, for example tonight I lost my rag after 5 minutes of screaming about cleaning teeth, cue super bloody Dad, a song, a dance, a little game, him cleaning his teeth and 15 minutes later she was ready to get into her Pj’s. 5 minutes later once again he took over as that too was becoming a mission for this tired and ratty mum.

Is it ok to be ratty? Is it ok to love your child unconditionally but not really like them for an hour/day? Is it ok not to fulfil the 5 a day everyday  – maybe up it to 7 one day instead?! And is it ok to hate with a passion that ‘told you so’ look from your smug husband when he succeeds where you have failed?!

Ahh baby number two you are making mama exhausted… good practice then!

s3 s4
The little monkey copying mum, doing her makeup and taking photos!

s2 s1
Fish is good right?! and the ‘I don’t want to get dressed’ stance