Things I would tell pregnant me

Things I would tell pregnant me

Part of a creative writing and motherhood workshop that I took part in recently involved writing ourselves a letter, thinking about what we would say to our pregnant selves.

I’ve been really thinking about it since then.  See, the thing is, I could tell myself all sorts of things about what being a mum has really been like, but I still don’t think I would have been prepared.

Nothing can truly prepare you for having a baby.  And there are so many factors involved, so many emotions, so many hormones, so many ideals that just get shattered when you get home from the hospital and nothing is quite like you’d imagined it would be.

But, still, here are some things I would tell myself if I had the chance to go back to the time before my children were born.

Things I would tell pregnant me 

It won’t come as easily as you think it will.

By ‘it’ I mean all of it.  All of what motherhood entails.  Just because you want it so badly doesn’t mean it will come easily.  Breastfeeding will be hard.  At first you’ll be terrified to dress the baby because you don’t know what you’re doing, and you feel like you’ll hurt him.  The lack of sleep will be unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you’ll be so tired you’ll hallucinate at night, and just want to cry in the day.

It will get easier though.

You will find your feet.  You’ll get some sleep, or at least adapt to getting less sleep.  You will get to know your babies.  You’ll learn how to do all the practical things and soon they’ll become second nature.  You will drink a whole, hot cup of coffee again.  You’ll learn to trust your instincts and to do what you know is right for you and your family.

You should really learn the lyrics to Calon Lan.

You’ll sing that song over and over again to both your children.  It will have such special meaning to your family.

Hormones can make you all kinds of crazy.

You’ll feel so many emotions you won’t know what’s going on.  Joy, despair, wonder, hopefulness, hopelessness, love (complete and utter, all-consuming love), anger, resentment, confusion.  Anything goes.  But knowing that this is normal can help you get through it.  It can take months though, for your hormones to settle down, so be prepared for that!

You won’t be able to think straight.

The baby will be screaming.   You’ll know it’s because he’s too hot.  You’ll think as far as taking his clothes off and then have to call your husband to come home and help.  He’ll immediately come in and open the windows and doors to cool the house down.  You’ll burst into tears at not having thought of that for yourself.

There are moments of absolute joy and wonder.

The quiet moments where you just sit, with your baby sleeping on your chest.  The wonderful moment you hear your child say ‘mummy’ for the first time, and know that they mean YOU.  Every time they attempt a new skill, and again when they master it.  The moment you realise that you can have an actual conversation with them.  The little moments in the day when you just stop and gaze at them and it really is amazing that they’re here.

There are moments of absolute frustration and despair.

The quiet moments when you just sit, with your baby sleeping on your chest, and the tv remote, your phone and your drink are all out of reach but you don’t dare move because it’s the first time the baby’s slept all day and you’re so scared you’ll wake them up.  The moment you hear your child call ‘mummy’ for the 100th time that hour and you desperately want them to mean someone else.  When  you have the same conversation with your 20 month old over and over and over again.

It’s hard.

Being a mum is hard.  Really bloody hard.  We’re bombarded with conflicting advice and opinions.  And internally we fight conflicting thoughts and emotions.  We get tired and frustrated when the baby won’t sleep, then we feel guilty for feeling those things because there are women out there without children who would give anything to be in our shoes, then we feel overwhelmingly sad at that thought, then get a rush of love for the baby in our arms, then minutes later we’re back at frustration because they still won’t go to sleep.

You’d do it all over again.

When you strip it all back though, and get past all the fear, and despair, and utter exhaustion, at the very core of motherhood is love.  Love that is messy and raw and all-consuming, but also beautiful and wonderful and life-changing.

Love like you’ve never known before.

Despite all the things I’ve written above about how hard it all is, having my children is still the most amazing thing I’ve ever done.  I wouldn’t change them for the world.  I wouldn’t change this experience for the world.  With all the bad comes so, so much good.  So many shining moments of joy that wipe away everything else.

So, when all is said and done, if I could go back to being my 27 year old pre-baby self, would I go around again?

Hell. Yes.

Be the parent that your child needs

Be the parent your child needs

I wrote a post yesterday where I touched on this idea of being the parent that your child needs.

I think if I could go back to pre-motherhood me, that would be the advice I would give myself.  Don’t get too caught up on what the books say you ‘should’ be doing, don’t worry about what other people tell you your children ‘should’ be doing.

Just focus on getting to know your child, and learning to be the parent that he needs.

Be the parent that your child needs 

Now that I’m a Mum of two I’m learning even more that there isn’t a one-size-fits-all approach to parenting.  Even within the same family you have to learn what each individual child needs from you, and adapt to become the parent that they need you to be.

See, my children are very similar in many ways.  When you look at their baby pictures it can be really hard to tell who is who.  They were both on the move very early, and are confident in their physical abilities.  But there are more and more differences emerging too.  And, of course, as they get older their individual personalities change and evolve and I have to keep up with the people they’re becoming.

I have to make a conscious effort to adapt my behaviour and my habits to ensure that they get what they need from me.  For example, I discovered when Rhys was a baby that I’m not as naturally tolerant of mess and dirt as I thought I was, and it’s taken me a while to relax and be comfortable with it.  And the main thing I’ve come to realise is that Nerys’ need to get her hands in things, to touch and feel new sensations is more important than my ‘need’ to keep her hands and clothes clean!

See, I’m learning all the time about what my children need from me as a parent.  

They need my love, my attention, my time, my respect.

After those needs are met you have to dig a little deeper.  Listen to your children, and watch them too.  In their own way they’ll tell you what they need.

You’ll learn if they need to be pushed or if you need to hold back.

You’ll learn if they need to be cuddled all day or if they need their personal space.

You’ll learn if they need the structure of routine or if they need more flexibility in their days.

If you trust your instincts you’ll come to realise that they’re your children, no one knows them better than you.  No one else knows the best way to ‘be’ with them.

So, a message to past-me, and a reminder to now-me and future-me:

Don’t worry about being the parent you always thought you’d be.

Don’t waste your time trying to be the parent that others think you should be.

Don’t be the parent to the child you want your child to be.

Get to know the child you’ve been given.  Learn who they are, get to understand the way they think, be the parent that they need.  

Coping with losing the extra hour in bed when you're a parent

The 5 stages of coping with the loss of the extra hour in bed now you’re a parent

Chances are you’ve seen some posts starting to pop up on Facebook about how the clocks are going back this weekend.  Which is normally seen as something to celebrate seeing as it, in theory, gives us an extra hour in bed on Sunday morning.

Unless of course you have young children who have absolutely no concept of time.  

In that case, the extra hour is something that we remember fondly from our pre-children days, and then start to dread as we prepare ourselves for a good few weeks of really unreasonable wake-up times while the kids adjust.

So, in an attempt to bring a little humour to the situation, here is my guide to the things we parents think and say during the 5 stages of coping with the loss of that extra hour in bed:

The 5 stages of coping with the loss of the extra hour in bed



“The kids aren’t actually awake.  No, they can’t really be awake yet.  It’s 4.30am, they’re just stirring.  They’ll settle back to sleep in a minute.  If I just shut my eyes and go back to my dream then the kids will do the same, that’s how it works isn’t it?  I mean, they’re not properly awake anyway”



“Damn.  They’re properly awake.  Are you actually kidding me?!   For the love of God, it’s 4.30am!  And why do they always have to call for me?  Shout for Daddy instead for once!”



To your other half (after you’ve shaken them awake):
“If you get up with them today I’ll do all the cooking and cleaning for the rest of the week”

To your children (after you’ve stumbled into their room):
“If you just stay quietly in bed and look at books for an hour you can watch Peppa pig and eat chocolate buttons for the rest of the day”



“Argh, this sucks.  I don’t want to get up yet.  It’s so dark out, and it’s so bloody early the heating hasn’t come on yet so I’m freezing.

*quiet sobbing*

Oh God, it’s so early that Cbeebies isn’t even on yet ”



“Looks like it’s going to be a 10-cups-of-coffee kind of day.  Right, let’s get up and get the first cup going.  Then stick the Sarah and Duck DVD on for the kids.  At least they might go to sleep at a decent time tonight!”


Do any of these things sound familiar to you?  

Or are you one of the parents who actually prepares for the clock change by adjusting bedtimes etc all week?  I’ve never been organised enough to actually do that!

Thoughts my children have when I make a cup of coffee

5 thoughts my children have when I go to make a cup of coffee

Did you know that yesterday was international coffee day?  A wonderful day I’m sure you’ll agree!  Although, every day is coffee day around here.

The thing is, children seem to come with an in-built radar that detects when you want to have a nice hot drink.  They seem determined to make it as difficult as possible for us to make a coffee or tea, and then make it damn near impossible to drink it while it’s actually still hot!

Here I give you 5 thoughts that I’m sure my children have when I go to make a cup of coffee.

5 thoughts my children have when I go to make a cup of coffee


1) Look, Mummy’s going in the kitchen.  I’d better ask for a biscuit/some chocolate/a drink.


2) Hmm, Mummy’s clearly trying to do something in the kitchen.  I think she needs me to go in and squeeze myself in the gap between her legs and the work surface.


3) Ah, Mummy’s coming back with her hot drink; now’s the time to cling to her legs and ask to be picked up.


4) Ohh, Mummy’s just sat down with her drink.  I’d better ask her to go and get me a biscuit/some chocolate/a drink.


5) Right, Mummy’s just about to start drinking her coffee, this is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for to tell her that I need a clean nappy.  Mwah ha ha ha.


Are your children the same?  Or have you discovered a secret to having a hot drink in peace?! 

Everything changes (a letter to my son at he starts full days at school)

Dear Rhys,

I wished on a shooting star for you, did you know that?

I was lying on a beach one night in the summer of 2010, longing for the clouds to shift enough for the perseid meteor shower to do it’s thing.  Then it happened; a brilliant flash of light darted across the sky.  And I wished.  With all my heart I wished.  For you.  For you to come to us, to change our world.

And nine months later there you were.  And right from the start you changed everything.  You changed me.  I found a strength and determination I didn’t know I had to get you safely into the world.  You made me raw and vulnerable in a way that only a new parent can be.

You’ve kept me on my toes your whole life.  Just when we thought we had things figured out a new change would come along.

Because that’s life, isn’t it.  Life is change.

And right now, there’s a big change happening.  You’re starting full-time school.

You seem ready.  You had a great time in the nursery class last year, and you’re familiar with the idea of school.

So, I think this change is more dramatic for me.  Our life together has changed, and it can never go back.  Daddy and I are taking a deep breath and slowly taking another tiny step back.

There’s a part of me that longs to keep you close.  To hold on tight to my little boy who, not long ago, I wished on a star for.  I want to keep you just as you are,  but I know that’s just now how life works.  You have to grow, you have to change, that’s just the way it is.

So here’s what I’ll do; I’ll hold on extra tight when you hold my hand as we walk.  I will cherish every last kiss you ask for outside school.  Too soon I know you’ll be ‘too old’ for these things.

It really does make me so proud, seeing the boy you’re growing in to.  How loving you are. How passionate.  I just don’t want the outside world to change you.  I want you to stay strong in who you are.

Everything changes.  That’s just life.  Just don’t let life change you too much ok?  You are wonderful, just as you are.

I love you,


a haiku about starting school

A haiku about starting school

I was planning on writing a proper blog post about Rhys starting reception class at school, or perhaps an open letter to him about it.  Who knows, maybe I still will in a few days.

But the words won’t come quite yet.  I think I’m still processing the whole thing.

So for now, I’ve managed a haiku.  All my feelings summed up in 17 syllables.

a haiku about starting school 

I’m pretty sure I won’t be the only one shedding a few tears on the drive home from school drop-off this week!