Bye bye Baby.....

I cleared out a cupboard in the kitchen the other day. Now, before you think that I'm really scraping the bottom of the barrel today, it wasn't just any old cupboard. It was my baby bottle cupboard - and I've had one of those in our kitchen for, oh, nearly thirteen years!
In days gone by, and even when the baby became a toddler, the bottles were just pushed further to the back to gather dust, while sippy cups, crackers and raisins jostled for space at the front instead. I didn't actually get rid of them...and although I wouldn't have admitted it to you at the time, maybe I just wasn't ready...until now.
It's not that I'm feeling broody again- I promise you, I'm not! I ADORE the stage that Luke is at now, a lot more than the baby stage, if I'm honest. With the others are at school, he's my wee mate! He chats away to me, (mostly incomprehensibly), from the back of the car, the front of the trolley, the seat in the cafe..and I love not having to carry a baby bag with bottles, clothes and food anymore.
And, although he's getting so independent, and trying so hard to be one of the gang, he's still my baby...It's never too long before he comes to find me- to climb on my knee for a cuddle, or stand with his head against my leg- before running off to the others again.
I've found that I'm enjoying and appreciating  the little things  much more than I used to - I was 28 when we started our family, 38 when Luke came along, and I think that ten years made a quare difference in so many ways! Now I KNOW how quickly these phases pass, no matter how trying or endless they may seem at the time, and that means I can appreciate them for what they are. Given that perspective, I can weather the storms, be they sleepless nights, colic, temper tantrums or potty training.
Of course, that's partly confidence too. I can look to my older children, and see that, despite everything, I haven't messed it up too much....so far anyway. Time and experience has taught me not to sweat the small stuff, (Just give them the feckin' dummy... and turn a blind eye when you see them eating cheerios off the floor!).

Thing is, when we'd got to this toddler stage in the past, we already had another baby, or one on the way, so it was definitely a case of just putting the head down and getting through...but not now. This time, we won't be down this way again, so I want to gently stroll along, with Lukey by the hand, and not dash past with a buggy, and a clatter of children struggling to keep up.

So yes, I certainly felt a little bit wistful, as I packed up all the bottles for my sister's bump. It's the end of an era round here, and the end of who I'VE been, for the longest time. I felt sad, and a little bit scared because.... who will I be now? 

But I felt something else too.....I think it might have been excitement. Because surely the end of an era means the beginning of a new one too, and it kinda hit me, that just as I'm leaving the whole pregnancy and infancy stage behind, I'm about to become the mother of a teenager! That's unfamiliar territory indeed, and I don't even have a sat nav!

 Recently, I've also found myself looking to a few experienced friends, (you ladies know who you are!), who have already navigated these milestones and transitions, and seem to be doing just fine. In fact, they tell me that there's lots to love...but that's a whole other blog!

 And as for my old bottle cupboard? Well, after cleaning it out, I declared it 'Mummy's Cupboard', issued warnings of 'Do Not Touch Or Even Open', and made it a home for all the treats I usually hide all over the kitchen-my red Lindt chocolate balls, REALLY good fudge, 80 cal bags of popcorn and my own personal box of Special K. Now, maybe it's time I considered putting a lock on it!?

Dress it up, dress it down!

Well here, it looks like I'm definitely off to London in September for these MAD Blog awards...to a fancy schmancy hotel in Bloomsbury, if you don't mind, where I'll be quaffing (free!) cocktails and hobnobbing away with the other finalists. Yep, it's a dirty job.....
There WAS an initial question mark over whether I could go or not-Oh, the drama of it- one minute, I didn't even know there WAS an awards ceremony, and the next there was the nail biting possibility of a clash with my sister's wedding! (Which obviously I'd never DREAM of missing... and anyway, all of my babysitting options are guests!) Crisis averted though, as it turns out they're 2 weeks apart. Phew! (I just KNOW you were on the edge of your seat there.)
This meant, that I was then able to tie down my (ever accommodating ) Ma & Da for babysitting duties, so now we're completely sorted....in that department anyway. I mean we've still to book our Sleazy Jet flights, (where I'll definitely learn from my mortifying Exeter experience and book the extra bag)... And then, there's the MAJOR issue of what to wear. Yes indeedy, it may be 4 months away, and I probably SHOULD be worrying about giving good blog between now and then, and/or selling my soul/body for votes, (as there can be no doubt that I'm the long shot), but no, right now, for me, it's all about the dress.. Or dresses to be exact...because that wedding that I mentioned before? Yours truly is a bridesmaid, or more accurately-a 'matron of honour'.
 Jude unwittingly fueled my anxieties about this when he asked me yesterday, 'Mummy, are bridesmaids not usually about the same age as the bride?' Ouch! Loverboy snorted with laughter, because, it's true, I am twelve years older that my sister.... and four sizes bigger. My other sister (who's just the ten years younger), is also a bridesmaid....or is she? You see, we won't actually know for sure until the day itself, as her second baby is due two days later. And even if she is there, I (shamelessly) can't rely on her to make me look better, because she's one of those annoyingly skinny pregnant people, who just have a perfectly proportioned melon of a belly. (Unlike me, who was blessed each time, not only with the belly, but the arse, thighs and a great big pregnant moon face as well!) Oh, and our lovely twelve year old Anna is a 'mini' bridesmaid. (Yes, that IS her actual title, so she's the yin to my yang, if you will. The Happy Meal, to my Big Mac, so to speak)

Wrong card......

 I've a confession to make-at my own wedding all those years ago, there was a guest there, (I'm not telling you which side!), who was wearing a flouncy, floral number, and my good friend Kim leaned over and whispered in my ear, 'Who's the ancient bridesmaid?' and then we both sniggered evilly. I mean this lady must have been all of, oh I don't know, mid forties? Roll on 16 years, and this is surely bad bridesmaid karma back to bite me up the arse. Who's the ancient bridesmaid now, mwah, ha, ha ha!
 And the other dress? Well, I MAY get a new one but I'm seriously considering a new little number I recently wore to my sister in laws wedding - a lovely silk, Anna Scholz wrap dress. The only issue here, (according to my mother), is that it's too revealing in the chest area. In fact, she helpfully told me that I needed a modesty panel. (No, I didn't know either.) Now, obviously I took this with a huge tablespoonful of salt, as she's a well known anti cleavage militant, and any lingering doubts disappeared when Loverboy unequivocally assured me it was grand altogether, But then later, I WAS a trifle disconcerted when an old, sozzled sleazer, (there simply would be no barge pole long enough), saw me with Luke on my hip and complimented me with "I'm sure that wee fella doesn't go hungry with those puppies!" I mean who SAYS these things? Who even THINKS them?
I wanted to give him one of my renowned withering looks but he wasn't actually looking at my face, so I just stomped off in a huff. The long and the short of it is... I haven't decided. On the one hand, I may not ever get such a wonderful excuse to buy a new dress ever again...but then again, a modesty panel may be just the ticket. I just need to find out what it is first- Mr Google will know....

PS- I would REALLY appreciate it if you would vote for me in the MADs, and maybe this long shot might be in with a chance!?... It's dead easy, closing date is June 6th and there's a button on the right that takes you straight there. I'm up in two categories-Blog of the Year and Family Life  (but you only vote for Family Life) and I literally will love you forever!
While you're there, do take a look at the other finalists -77 cracking blogs in 20 different categories-I'm working my way around them all and loving it!

Our Lovely Luke



The night before the big day

My baby is two years old today. Two years ago, just about now, I was sucking back the gas and air for dear life, and a few hours later our fifth child, and fourth son was born. This time, we knew we were having a boy- he was the only one we chose to find out, but we told few.

I remember The Killers had a song out at the time which began ' When there's nowhere left to run, is there room for one more son, one more son?' and it used to make me cry. I suppose that I wanted to get any guilty, crappy, disappointed feelings about not having a girl, out of the way before our child arrived...And of course I did, and now, looking back, I'm incredulous and slightly ashamed that I ever felt that way at all. But then I tell myself that that was before I knew him, and held him, and loved him.

From the moment he arrived, he was everyone's baby. Every morning, I would discover Cormac lying on the bed beside his cot, gently holding his hand, waiting for him to waken.  Rory sang songs to him that mostly featured the name 'Luke' monotonously over and over. They all fought over whose turn it was to hold him and suddenly he was 'Lukey', and it was as if he'd been here always. I remember reading somewhere that there isnt a finite amount of love to be shared among your children - with each one the heart miraculously expands and love multiplies ....and its so true.

Before his op in the hospital

First Birthday

He didn't give us the easiest of starts either. I was more tired this time around, which probably had to do with being pregnant at 38, not 28, and now having 4 other children to care for. Then, in the last two weeks I started going into spontaneous labour-once we even made a late dash to the hospital - only to find that it would peter out, leaving me exhausted and weepy. Later, both sets of our parents expressed their fears that something was wrong with the baby. When he was born, it was with the cord round his neck and he was blue and silent, but the midwives rubbed him and he quickly pinked up and when he cried, we cried too.

 At five weeks old, it was discovered after weeks of projectile vomiting, that he had a condition called pyloric stenosis that required a one off operation on his stomach muscle. One of the happiest moments of my entire life, was giving him that first feed afterwards- he had been starved for almost 2 days before the op, which was truly awful to watch - so he guzzled the milk down and then lay back on my lap like a wee drunk man...and kept it down. Sitting there, at that moment, I thought my heart would burst.

The Man himself

And now he's two and he's leaving his babyhood behind and that does make me a little sad. But then I really love this next stage, (despite tantrums and potty training!), because his personality is really emerging and every day brings new words and games. He rules the roost, with his brothers and sister catering to his every whim, while he, like an imperious mini dictator ponderously selects who will carry him, or bring him to the 'bouncy' (trampoline) or push him on the swing or just watch Teletubbies.

So, a very happy 2nd birthday to our precious Luke - You were meant for us and we were meant for you and I'm so thankful every single day that we didn't stop at four...but then we never were sensible! Thank you my little man for all the joy you've brought us already and all that is yet to come. Xxxxx