Childless? Sure, Hit Me With Your ‘Parenting Advice’!

Ah that old chestnut.

What is with women/men who have no children telling you the best way to feed/change/rock/soothe/play with your child? Of course, those who don’t have children are always the best ones to remind you what you do wrong, aren’t they? Especially because they have read all the research and baby books and every scientifically proven article ever in the whole wide world. They also have a billion

Ha!
Ha!

friends/relatives/significant others/distant nobodies who have children and so that qualifies them to know the BEST for YOUR child. They explain their research and their opinion to you, and the whole time all you can do is smile and nod.

My question really, is why? Why do they feel they are the most qualified of people to give their advice on parenting? I chose to formula feed my daughter and I have received tuts of disapproval in public when I don’t whip out a boob. However, if I was to breastfeed I would get tuts of disapproval FOR whipping out a boob.

I’ve been informed not to rock Sophie to sleep before putting her in her cot, because that would make her too clingy and expect rocking before bed. Hmm, being as she is a baby I would expect her to want hugs from Mummy or Daddy before bed to make her feel relaxed and comforted. I rock Sophie until she is sleepy or asleep before I put her in her cot because otherwise she thinks it’s playtime when she spots her animal mobile. I want my baby to actually sleep at 7.30 when I put her down and not spend the next two hours laughing to herself, then crying because she is TOO tired. This was told to me by a woman on the train after a conversation about how old she was and how she was sleeping. I asked if she had children and she said, ‘No, but I know lots of people WITH children’.

I’ve been informed that giving her a dummy is lazy parenting. When Sophie was 6 weeks old, she kept vomiting her feeds, but she was crying for food. Or so I thought. I gave her a dummy which previously she had refused. Sophie promptly fell asleep, and I learned that my daughter finds a dummy a comfort to suck on while she falls asleep. No more vomiting from overfeeding! My new couch now hides when I bring out the bleach but at least my baby is happy. I don’t plan for her to use it when she is talking, as the dummy fairy will be visiting waaaay before then. Now, Sophie only uses it to get to sleep then she spits it out. She is much more interested in her hands than her dummy, unless its to hold the handle in her mouth.

The funny thing is here, is that I always welcome suggestions from anyone – heck someone may actually have advice that is good. Before I got pregnant, I always had an idea of what life would be like as a mother. I always imagined the very cute, small, warm bundle

MESSY
MESSY

I would hold and rock and stroke the face of. I imagined an instant routine and soothing baby tears and a happy contented CLEAN baby that was all mine. You do don’t you? The reality however, is so different to what the so called experts tell you in books.

What I got… well, aside from the obvious cuteypie that is the fruit of my womb, I got a messy, snotty, dribbly child.

I have coped with: explosive shit and projectile vomit, been peed on, puked on, shit on, dribbled all over, had food sneezed at me, changed nappies that leak into BRAND NEW baby clothes, had snot fly at me, pacing the flat at 3am singing the Shut Up song – my own invention, tried to dress a child that preferred to eat her feet than put them in a baby grow, had two necklaces ripped off my neck, had my ears screamed into, handled a sick child, handled a teething child.

Not one of those people who gave me unsolicited advice said to me ‘oh yeah I know what you’re going through, I’ve been there’. Because not one of those people have babies themselves. They read a book by an expert and expect that to be the case. That babies follow the books. They don’t. What works for one baby will not work for other babies.

And just because your mothers’ sister’s cousins’ auntys’ brothers’ friends’ wife told you otherwise doesn’t mean you have a clue what you’re on about. Until you are in it, you have no idea what the Mummy Club is like. You can babysit and coo over a cute baby. You can even feed and change them. But until you’ve had to handle the hormones, the scary feeling your baby will die in their sleep, the consistent whinging when they find their voice, the crying that doesn’t stop and you can’t figure out the WHY of it then hold your stupid opinions. Everyone can guess but no one is an expert on babies – even the ‘experts’. Supernanny for example, has great ideas…but no kids of her own. Her methods may work for some, but won’t work for others.

If I’ve said it once, I’ll repeat myself a thousand times. I will do things MY way, what works for ME and my Hubbers. If that requires formula/dummies/a smack on the butt when needed when older, then that is what I will do. You wanna tell me I’m doing it wrong?

Well, in that case I hope you have the most awkward, whingey little shitbag of a child ever. Then I will laugh as each of your personal opinions of dummies/formula/smacks on the bum don’t work. Sayonara!

<3

Babies, Babies EVERYWHERE

One Born Every Minute is back! And we all know what that means…BABIES! Teeny newborns being born and the sounds of women in labour – which depending who you are, could be panting, yelling, screaming or plain sounding like you’re in the throes of an orgasm.

Personally I was quite quiet. Pushing was harder on my legs (as I mentioned before) and I LOVE One Born. I love seeing those moments of magic where the tiny humans are first into the world. All folded up and not quite in their skin yet. So wrinkly and goopy and just proper bundles of actual love. Made from love (in most cases).

There are loads of women I am friends with who are all pregnant now in various stages along and I confess to be jealous.

TOES!
TOES!

I have a beautiful five month old daughter who is now grabbing her toes and awaiting her teeth to pop through. I love Sophie with all my heart – she is my rainbow baby. But GOD do I want another one! Seeing all the newborns around me makes me so, so broody it’s unbelievable. I miss pregnancy and labour more than having a newborn though. I miss the excitement of scans, first kicks and cravings. I miss taking a billion tests just to make sure that there is a baby there and it isn’t some incredible dream I get to live. One thing I hope for next time round though is a proper bump. You know the one I mean, one where you can actually rest your book or cereal bowl on the top. I had a tiny bump that barely showed.

I still can’t quite stomach the smell of Chinese food even now! *wistful sigh*

Anyway, I know I have Sophie. I know I have what so many women long for. But she didn’t come easy. We lost two before Sophie and what with me being all over the place as a woman she was a little miracle in my eyes. Doesn’t stop me wanting another one though. We won’t find out the gender next time though, we’ll have the surprise of pink or blue. I want Husband to be able to tell me the name of our baby when they arrive!

 

Swoon.

My light x
My light x