My 2 year old daughter had her first nightmare a few nights ago; well, I say that, but what I mean is that she had the first one that she was then able to put into words as she tearfully explained about the dinosaurs coming to get her. She woke at about 3am, very upset and agitated, and wailing “Go ‘way t-rex!” I was quite surprised (by her extensive dinosaur vocabulary as much as anything else), until my 6 year old dinosaur fanatic told me next day that he’d ‘helped’ persuade her to go to bed the previous evening by warning her that unless she went upstairs right away, his toy dinosaurs would eat her. He has quite a collection of dinosaurs, and had been teaching her the names while I ran their bath. At 3am I heard how “steg’aurus chase me an’ tri’tops bite me an’ me cry”. Her logical conclusion was that she must now come to Mummy’s bed because Mummy would keep the dinosaurs away. I was not really in a fit state to debate this at the time, so we snuggled up together and semi-conscious Daddy grudgingly made room for us.
Three nights later she woke again apparently quite distressed and rambling about dinosaurs, so I allowed her into bed with us again. She settled down within seconds and slept peacefully spreadeagled across at least three-quarters of the kingsize mattress. It was only when I heard her reporting to big brother in the morning that “me slept in Mummy’s bed an’ YOU didn’t” that I realised I’d been had…
I love the baby show. Despite the ridiculously early morning start and having to smile inanely all day, I still really enjoy it. Today (and the rest of this weekend) we have been at The Baby Show at London Excel, our first show of 2010. I have handed out countless leaflets, sold a vast number of hoodies, and happily people-watched all day long. My feet hurt, my mouth is still dry and I keep falling asleep on the sofa as I type, and I feel as though I have done a proper day’s work. I have to say I’m quite relieved that I’m not doing the last day of the show, though; back in the days of just one child I was there with the others for all three days, but it has become rather more complicated of late, so I can rarely manage more than one of two days (a rubbish excuse though, since Isobel and Chris manage it with twins…).
We went to our first baby show at the Birmingham NEC, SIX years ago now, when we were a brand new company. We had a decorators table, a blue sheet and about 200 hoodies all in baby pink, baby blue and beige. Terry Wogan announced on the radio, as we drove up in the van for our first venture into actually selling our invention, that ‘Hoodies’ had been banned from the Bluewater shopping centre. It wasn’t looking good. But then we found our teeny stand, opposite a very large (though sadly now extinct) baby company, and it was lying bathed in a shaft of sunlight with everything around in near darkness. Suddenly we all felt much more positive, and we were right to.
The weekend was a huge success; we sold almost all our stock, and loved the experience. Nowadays, we have so many different colour and fabric options I lose track, we have the wraptures as well, more products all the time and we have become much slicker. The shows are still something we really look forward to – the opportunity to meet our customers face to face – and some time away from the office! So we love it despite the bone-numbing exhaustion.
Love them? Hate them? Not sure? Well despite the fact that I spend most of my life in front of one, I’m not feeling too fond of them right now.
My old PC recently caught a blue screen bug and died, so I replaced it with a beautiful new (red) Dell laptop, which I absolutely adore. In the interim, when I was computerless (at home anyway) I felt bereft; it was like losing a limb. I hadn’t realise how much I depended on the thing. But I could still get my fix at work. In the few lulls between surgeries I was able to check the weather (snow), my back account (ailing), facebook (horribly addictive) etc.
Anyway, my husband was delighted to be seeing more of the real me in the evenings, and since I had a fortnight before the laptop was delivered, I got out of the habit of switching the computer on as soon as the children were in bed, and I’ve been much more restrained ever since.
Today I am not feeling quite so happy with the computer-domination of my existence. I have just arrived to start morning surgery, to find that our patient system is down. This means that I can’t access anyone’s results, see any of their past records, or have any idea in advance of why they might be coming to see me. It also means I haven’t a hope of running my surgery on time, and worse than anything else, I’m going to have toWRITE THINGS DOWN! Years of computer use means I can barely write anyway, and tomorrow, when hopefully the computers will be working again, I’ll have to decipher my scrawl and try to remember what on earth I was thinking, so I can keep the computer records up to date.
Computers are like husbands; often quite useful, but right now I just hate them!
How many times are you expected to exclaim in delight about the poo your 2 year old is proudly carrying around in her potty to show everyone, and absolutely refusing to let go until every soft toy has waved it a fond farewell? “Yes you are a clever girl… yes, VERY clever… shall we flush it away now?… No? Oh right, duck hasn’t seen it yet…” was beginning to be muttered through gritted teeth by the fifteenth time.
Thank goodness for big brothers; “Eeeeuuurrrgh! That’s disgusting! Get rid of it you stinky baby!” did the trick instantly; the very welcome flush was perhaps 8 seconds later. All those earnest moments trying to be suitably encouraging, gently persuading, trying to ‘empower’ the toddler were completely pointless – I think I’ll let big brother potty train her from now on…
Smarties are the absolute favourite with my daughter (closely followed by Percy Pigs from M&S; I convince myself that being ‘all natural’ offsets the fact that they are after all, still pretty much pure sugar). So when Isobel showed me the prototypes of the new ‘Chocolate Smartie’ Wrapture last month, I was pretty sure she’d love it. And now she won’t take the thing off.
Tonight she announced “Me Pincess Marty Pants”, and completed the outfit with her plastic sparkly tiara, precariously perched in her flossy baby hair. As I write, she is asleep in bed, still in this fetching ensemble (she eventually agreed to put on her pyjamas, but kept a tight grip on the wrapture the whole time). It has yoghurt all over the front, so I shall have to rescue it for a wash before nursery tomorrow (thank goodness for machine-washable fur!). I love toddlers.
Not sure why, but last week seemed to be the week for colicky babies. So many of the little darlings came to see me that I began to feel as though all the world had colic. Those poor parents, instantly recognisable by the dark circles and the baffled look of “why me?”, and the little ones sleeping angelically in their carseats, as though they had not been up screaming for 6 straight hours the previous evening, and every evening for the past 3 weeks…
To cut a long story short, I gave a lot of advice, even more heartfelt sympathy, and felt rather lucky to have those days far behind me. But I do still vividly remember the horror of it all. For the suffering parents (the baby will be fine, it’s you I’m worried about), here’s what to remember during the long hours of pacing; repeat it like a mantra…
It’s not my fault
It’s not just my baby that does this
It won’t last forever
The baby will be fine
One day (usually when the baby is about 12 weeks old), they suddenly stop screaming, and start becoming the baby you always assumed you’d get. In the meantime, walking around with the baby cuddled upright against your shoulder helps, as does very gentle baby massage. Over the counter medication for colic helps you feel as though you are DOING something, but probably makes no difference whatsoever to the baby. And the only cure is time. Sorry.
Today the Morrck Blog went live online. How exciting! Now we can share our daily thoughts with the world. We’re having great fun in cyberspace – we have discovered Facebook and Twitter – which we are just beginning to explore.
But this is where we’ll mainly be spending our time, telling our stories as “Mum-preneurs” (who coined that ghastly expression?) and generally rambling on in a hopefully fairly productive manner…. See you soon!
