Baby Business: Week 32, you have to. You’re a mother!

First French bread. Tick

First smoothie. Tick

First avocado. Tick

First egg. YUCK!

I think it’s safe to assume that everyone knows exactly how much I love being a mummy to baby Little One - I may have mentioned it once or twice! What I haven’t mentioned are the bits I don’t like about being a mother... “What?” I hear you cry. Yes, there are some things I do not like:

1.       Injections: Can’t we just wave a magic wand that wraps our little ones in a protective layer, safe from all illnesses? That way we wouldn’t have to inflict injections on them. I have to say, my guilt was marginally eased as I didn’t hold Little One when she had her injections, instead I took the ‘saviour’ role, giving her cuddles straight after and carrying her away from the mean lady with the needle!

2.       The first fall: Oooohhhhhhhh that resounding thud. You know the one – it sounds like an arctic lorry hitting the side of your house.

You move like grease lightening, but everything goes into slow motion and your precious little one goes from smiley baby, sitting playing happily to a falling confused baby toppling backwards... and you just don’t get there in time. THUD... Silence. ...That look of shock... The crumpling of the face... The quivering of the lips... The cry... The guilt!

3.       Cutting nails: What is it with babies’ nails - how quickly do they grow?! And our wriggly little ones really make it a challenge to cut them.

So, how do you do it? Baby nail scissors? Baby nail clippers? Or good old chewing? My method... ask someone else to do it! That may seem like a cop-out, but unfortunately I have a very good excuse. I’d made a lovely game with Little One in order to cut her nails. One foot down, four nails in and... NOOOOOOOO, I snipped her toe. Now I would like to point out that Little One didn’t even notice and actually carried on giggling at the game, but I was in tears and devastated that I had injured my little girl.

4.       Car seat woes: There you are with ‘going to the zoo’ CD playing, raspberries being blown back and forth between us, when we enter a tunnel...

All goes a little dark... silence... and then a screech and total sobbing (scared cries). Oh no – I am on the M25, heavy traffic, I am on my own... I can’t stop, I can’t cuddle my baby, I can’t pick her up for a reassuring hug. I have to listen helplessly to her crying, trying to calm and sooth her with words, rhymes, funny noises... A whole three minutes later (which believe me feels like hours) and the sobbing gradually subsides, but the damage is done. I have failed my little girl by not being able to wrap my arms round her when she got scared.

5.       Poo in the bath (my favourite!) – I really don’t think I need to say too much about this one and I think I am fully justified in stating that this is a part of being a mummy that is not fun! Though it is intriguing - where does that amount come from and how come it sticks to everything, even things when they were not in the bath at the time? A very messy stinky mystery!

I would like to reassure every mum out there that I am working on a solution to all the above and I fully expect to have them sussed, fixed and mastered by... well... ermmmmmm... actually... nope, I have nothing!