I'm No Expert - a Blog on Motherhood and Life in General

I mentioned in one of my introductory posts about starting up a section on funny things our children say. Of course I haven't been too good at jotting them down. Recently, I decided to see how much my 4.5 year old understands about having adult half-brothers. So in the bath I began to explain that they are Dad's sons from his first marriage and have a different mother. "Why don't they have their own father?" She asked, bewildered, "Has he gone to be with God?" I have decided to leave the topic for future discussion - LOL.

Recently we have had some success with our son sleeping through in his own bed. Sometimes he makes it till 7.30 am. Always, he ends up in our bed, even if it is just a quick morning cuddle. But even when he comes in the middle of the night, it is hard to be annoyed when he cuddles up close and says "Love very much."

This is something that helps us to stay sane, and recapture a little of "life before kids". A babysitter that comes for the weekend may cost, but is well worth the expense. All those things that just aren't otherwise possible become, for a weekend, a reality - that sleep-in, being able to leave the house whenever without dressing and toting 2 littlies. Dates with your partner. My kids like their babysitter so much that K actually dreamt last night that she was already here. I already mentioned in a previous post that she plays much better than I do. She is also studying to be a medical assistant, so I can say that my paranoia at leaving the kids with her is not so acute. But it has made me realise - how many of us have babysitters and/or nannies who do not have any first aid training? Time to rethink. I seriously think that anyone looking after small children should do a first aid course. Meanwhile I'm off to dry my hair for the party we are going to tonight!

I wish I could say for sure I know they'll end, but the truth is I'm lucky if I get to sleep through once a week, and that is with a preschooler and an almost-preschooler in the home... One of our new night "things" is what I quite logically refer to as "musical beds". If any of you are familiar with the kids' party game of musical chairs, you can imagine what this looks like. Here is a typical scenario: I read to the kids in K's double sofabed, where S promptly falls asleep (hallelujah, now he has given up daytime naps he's out with no problems). I then move him to his bed, generally cuddle K until she falls asleep, and it's not entirely uncommon for me to nod off myself for a while. Unfortunately no matter how tired I am, it is rare for me to fall asleep for the night before 10 pm. On the rare nights I do, I wake up bright and early and rearing to go. Normally though, I can hardly get up at 8, which is the blessed hour our kids get up...

I wrote this quite a while ago and thought I'd post it. ***** I once read these frighteningly accurate words by Tony Parsons in his book “Man and Wife”: “Once you have had a child in hospital, once you know what it is like to love a sick child, you will never be free again, because you know it could happen again and that the next time it could be worse.” But that is really another story altogether – the fear and paranoia that enter the parent after a hospital ordeal and give new meaning to checking your baby’s breathing, which more innocent parents do without nearly the same level of terror. My husband and I have been there. The horror of a seemingly healthy baby suddenly passing out and entering a blur of ambulance-hospital-scary-diagnoses-transfer-ambulance-Intensive Care that lasted two days and culminated in a transfer to a normal ward and a two-week stint of camping out in a hospital. (This picture of O, S and myself was taken against my wishes by my visiting friend/OBG...

I had been wondering if anyone reads this blog due the fact it doesn't get (m)any comments. But from time to time I get emails from friends so I do KNOW that it is being read. Today I was looking through the settings and realised that the blog had an automatic restriction for comments. I have lifted that so that anyone can comment, even anonimously. So if you have tips or would like to say anything at all, go ahead :-)

I recently bought a women’s magazine, enticed by the copy of “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” that was included for free. The magazine is quite interesting in itself, but I only ever really read it at the hairdresser’s. Anyway, as I was reading last night I was intrigued to find a little column about the new fad of “bad mothering” blogs that are becoming popular in the US. Mothers admitting that they are unable to fill their role as they had imagined before having kids – cooking organic meals, banning television, etc. I have often thought about this issue of perfect mothering. Like you, I have questioned myself and compared myself to other mothers, absolutely sure that they are more patient and play better with their kids than I do. I really cannot get into games. Ok, recently the kids got a play-doh set for Christmas featuring a plastic man and kit for making different hairstyles for him using play doh. That is a load of fun! But as soon as I make anything worthy of showing, my 2.5-year...