Stretch mark creams review: Bepanthen, Palmer’s & Bio Oil
They say there’s nothing you can really do about stretch marks: it’s in the genes and you'll either get them, [...]
They say there’s nothing you can really do about stretch marks: it’s in the genes and you'll either get them, [...]
At 5 weeks and 4 days old I’ve managed to capture Little B’s smile on camera for the first time. There have been fleeting mini smiles over the past week or so – and never with a camera to hand – but now he’s properly beaming and throwing in gurgles for good measure. After almost six weeks of not sleeping longer than a couple of hours at a time, the pain of bleeding nipples and stinging stiches, the indignity of big pants and industrial strength wadding, scraping poo from under my fingernails (not mine, obviously), soothing colic, cold tea, snatched baths and even colder dinner, to be rewarded with a smile is the most momentous, fulfilling moment so far. […]
Is putting a baby to sleep on their tummy really so bad? All the medical advice seems to say yes, [...]
The babymoon is over. Misery Guts is back at work, my mum has gone home and BB, Little B and I are on our own, forging new routines and getting to grips with being three. It’s definitely a case of the blind leading the blind, and means only one thing: by 7 o’clock I need a drink. Sadly I can’t indulge as often as I’d like owing to the small issue of breast feeding, so I’ve decided that when I have one it’s going to be a good one. Pictured is this week’s tipple: a mother’s ruin gin cocktail after the nice people at Greenall’s sent me a bottle of their new wild berry blackberry and raspberry infused gin. Misery Guts didn’t need much prompting to whip up one of the signature serves: gin, vanilla syrup and lemon juice with blackberries and raspberries. It was absolutely delicious, although I only dared to have a few sips for fear of going to bed and waking up to find Little B on the floor/under the duvet/etc etc. […]
Not only was Little B diagnosed with tongue tie on the day he was born, the paediatrician also discovered a heart murmur. This was found at his paediatric check, which took place when he was just a few hours old because we were on a six hour discharge from the hospital. I wasn’t overly concerned: he has a good colour, has put on a whole 2lbs since he was born almost three weeks ago and doesn’t look like there might be something wrong with him. Apparently a heart murmur isn’t unusual in really newborn babies after their circulation switches from running on the inside to functioning on the outside, and we were told that had the paediatric check taken place the following day they may not have detected anything at all. […]
At 13 days old Little B’s tongue tie has finally been sorted out. I’m not normally squeamish, but when the nurse brandished a pair of shears scissors to make the snip at the base of his tongue I nearly passed out. And I’m not joking. Admittedly the room was hot – stiflingly hot as only ante natal units are – and I was already feeling a little light headed because it was way past lunchtime owing to the fact they were ‘running behind’. But even so, after reading somewhere that they take the baby away to cut the tongue tie, I didn’t expect to have to hold him down while they actually did it. […]
Isn’t the human body amazing? It takes 40 weeks to grow a baby but just a matter of days for it to look like there was never anything there at all. This is how mine has changed in the 10 days since Little B was born, although suggesting it looks like there was never anything there at all is stretching it a bit. There’s no doubt I’m a mother: the tell-tale linea nigra across my stomach, the midwife’s needlework skills and the fact I’m in dire need of some serious heavy duty eye cream are all dead giveaways, but all things considered, when fully clothed, I reckon I’ve escaped relatively unscathed. […]
Little B was diagnosed with tongue tie by our midwife as soon as he was born, meaning a little lip [...]
I think it’s fair to say BB has taken to being a big sister like a duck to water. After six weeks of broken nights and being generally unsettled in the run up to Little B’s arrival, almost a week in we couldn’t have asked for a better outcome. She goes down at night without a fuss about ‘the baby in mummy’s tummy’, sleeps through the night and no longer wakes up grizzling. She loves kissing him, looking at him and lying next to him (pictured), and I may have overplayed the ‘he won’t actually be able to do anything yet’ card as she’s delighted when he simply grips her finger. […]
I fully expected to be penning a week 41 post today: instead I am writing this with our four day [...]
So there’s been a great hoo-hah about Robbie Williams ‘live’ blogging and tweeting updates during his wife Ayda’s labour this week. I have to say if Robbie fancies coming to my delivery room and gyrating around the bed while singing Candy he’s most welcome – what better diversion? – but if Misery Guts tries it he’s likely to get a punch in the face. In case you’ve been on another planet for the last few days, you can watch one of Williams’ offerings here. You’ve got to hand it to Mrs Williams, who appears resigned to her husband’s behaviour throughout. She’s probably used to it. But what fascinates me is who is it behind the camera? Robbie hasn’t balanced the thing on top of a ventilator: there’s clearly someone filming proceedings. […]
Week: 40 Waist: 40 inches (no change) Feeling: Ready and waiting What can I say? Today is D-day and the Big Wait has begun. What a 40 weeks it’s been: I’ve put on 10 kilos – that’s one and a half stone in old money – my waist has expanded a whopping 13 inches and my chest has grown from a B to a D cup. I’ve felt enormous for pretty much the entire pregnancy, but looking back at the weekly pictures I started taking at 20 weeks it seems to me that back then I barely even looked pregnant. […]
I’ve been pondering this since writing a story about Haig Club whisky, the result of a collaboration between Diageo (Smirnoff, Baileys) and Becks, before starting maternity leave this week (I’m not sure how much input the man himself actually had, or whether Diageo just threw money at him to front the brand). I don’t mean 1990s matching-leather-Gucci-and-hair-gelled-curtains David Beckham, I mean 2014 suited and booted designer-stubble-with-creases-around-the-eyes Beckham, who you’ll soon see supersized on ads promoting the whisky if you haven’t already (pictured). There’s no escaping it, he certainly looks better with age. Which got me thinking, can the same be said for the fairer sex? […]
It is with the greatest regret that I have finally admitted defeat and hung up my running trainers. I made [...]
Last night marked our ninth consecutive broken night. It all started when BB came down with a bug last Monday, and spent the majority of the day in her nightie on the sofa (pictured). So I expected an unsettled night or two, but not nine. She’s bright as rain now, but the bug has taken her usual night time routine with it. It takes her ages to settle, she cries repeatedly, and then she wakes throughout the night crying out for us. Not what we need when trying to conserve energy for our new arrival in a couple of weeks. Worst still, I’ve got absolutely no idea how to deal with it. It’s probably not surprising she’s playing up – the last month has seen several big changes including a new bed (her old one has been made back into a cot) and graduation from her nursery’s toddler unit to preschool, which unfortunately – and unavoidably – have come at the same time. Add to that impending threat arrival of a brother or sister, and I suppose it’s a recipe for disaster. […]