31D2A495-E60A-4A9C-B891-F8C8ACA31DB9548D9061-615D-471E-A2A2-5DE5F09B5F04Tomorrow my teeny tiny little boy is turning one. How in bejesus did that happen?! I literally feel like I’ve blinked and he’s gone from a newborn to an almost-toddler and I haven’t even had time to breathe. So there you have the biggest cliché in the world; time flies.

Since I’m totes emosh over ‘ere (as I type this he’s fallen asleep in my arms and I don’t want to put him back down) I thought I’d compile a list of a few of my favourite Henry moments. I could go on all day so I’ll try and keep it concise. By the way, have you ever tried to pick nine favourite photos of your child?! Well it turns out its impossible. I narrowed it down to 18 which is why I have two pictures in this post, just in case you were wondering why I’m being so generous… Anyway….

  1. Him being born. Obviously I had to start there. After 36 hours of labour he was born at 12.40pm, on my brothers birthday. I worked bloomin’ hard for him and he’s worth every painful second.
  2. The first time he smiled. It was a Sunday morning and we were all having cuddles in bed when he smiled at Carl singing a celebratory ‘Henry only woke up twice last night song’
  3. The first time he laughed. He has the most infectious little giggle. After the smile, Carl was also the instigator of the giggle which he achieved by pretending to eat him. I like to think that I laid the groundwork because I taught Carl to pretend to eat him, I just didn’t get the same reception. As is life. Sigh.
  4. His first swimming lesson. He’s such a little water baby, he loves the bath, the shower, the pool. Heck even spitting his drink down his front amuses him.
  5. Our first family holiday in Norfolk. We went with my mum, grandparents and brother and Henry had a whale of a time, basking in all the extra attention.
  6. Other than to the dog, Henry is pretty stingey with his kisses. But sometimes he clambers over, pinches my cheeks and plants a big, sloppy kiss on me and I love it.
  7. His first Christmas. Charging around with his trolley while relatives coo-ed over him, he was in his element and it was very, very cute.

I could continue but I’ll leave it there. My year with Henry has been the best of my life and I can’t wait to see what this year brings.

What’s your favourite memory of your baby’s first year?


Daddy and baby asleepI’ve talked at great length about my bedtime woes – here, here & here to name but a few… and in my brighter moments I accept that babies just don’t sleep and I’ll one day pine to be needed the way I am now. But in the depths of sleep deprivation, after a few too many consecutive near-sleepless nights, I’m at my wits end. It was in one of these moments that I delved into the world of co-sleeping and I’m here to tell you the results.

We’ve never had too much of a problem getting Henry into bed, it’s keeping him in there that induces my eyebags and keeps Touche Eclat in business. We have a bedtime routine, the standard story – bath – feed combo which I think helped to teach Henry the difference between day and night. He’s also fairly easy to settle back to sleep during the night most of the time. The problem is the frequency of his wakings. He generally makes it ’til about 1am without much fuss, but can then be up every hour. Which means I get very little sleep from then on and I’m almost certain he’s looking for comfort.

So last week Henry relegated his Daddy to the spare bed and we gave the whole co-sleeping thing a go. I placed a row of pillows at the edge of the bed and rolled myself up in the quilt to give him as much space as possible while he slept in his Grobag as normal – I also consulted the Lullaby Trust for safe co-sleeping. I wasn’t confident that I’d get that much sleep myself but concluded that not actually having to get out of bed would be preferrable to stumbling across the landing 17 times. I found I slept very lightly, and I don’t think I missed a stir, but it was 3am before he woke up and a quick pat on the back was all he needed and he was back to sleep until 7.30. Yep…7.30am. SEVEN THIRTY ANTE MERIDIEM. That’s like midday in parent terms. We all started the day with a family breakfast and much more  organisation than we’re generally accustomed to.

That night we did the same again from when he woke up the first time – that night at 11pm and he slept until 6am. I also slept better, still lightly but much better than normal and I felt pretty sprightly the following day.

Since then, we’ve had a couple of nights where he’s slept in the cot ok – only waking up once. We’ve also had a couple of nights where he’s slept with me from his first wake at around 1am and then he’s slept right through until a reasonable hour of the morning – ie. after 6am. People keep telling me that it’s not a great habit to get into, and they could be right. I like sharing the bed with my husband. But I also like not having to get out of bed and knowing that Henry is content and comfortable. It’s lovely to see him wake up and to feel and hear his little baby breath while he sleeps.

While it may not be a great habit, for now if he needs comfort I’m happy to oblige, I think we’re all better off having slept better and I’m thankful to have found a way to make that happen. In fact, if I could go back in time I think it’s something I would’ve explored earlier for a number of reasons and something I would definitely consider with a second baby.

What are your views on co-sleeping?

This post is in collaboration with Blinds-Hut. You can check out other sleeping experiments here.


Processed with VSCO with f2 presetI’ve always had an inkling that I might have a little monkey on my hands. I’m not sure if it’s his daddy’s mischievous nature or the cheeky little look in his eye but either way I’m noticing evidence of it more and more. Which brings be around the this post which I’m sure I’ll want to add to as the weeks, months and years pass; behaviours I want to laugh at but can’t because they’re naughty:

  1. Opening his mouth full of food, sticking out his tongue pasted in food and promptly spitting it out. Don’t you like it? Are you full?! DON’T PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH THEN!
  2. Swinging on the baby gate complete with toothy grin. It’s funny & cute. And to be honest, sometimes I let him get on with it. Pick your battles.
  3. Spitting out water. Repeatedly. Annoying because it’s just another reason for an outfit change. Funny because…well why?! Why would spit water on yourself?!
  4. Opening and closing the drawers repeatedly. Getting annoyed because they won’t close because mummy’s trapped something in there so you can’t trap your fingers. Angrily grabbing said object and throwing it on the floor so the drawers will close.
  5. Chasing the dog around trying to poke her up the bum. I think what our feral pug is experiencing is karma for the last two years spent torturing us.
  6. Stiffening up rendering it highly difficult to get him in the car seat / high chair / pushchair. I’m told this is a very uncooperative phase and it would be very frustrating if his fits of giggles after he loses the battle of the seated position didn’t add the amusement factor.
  7. Pulling toys out of the box after I’ve put them back in the box at bedtime.

I may continue to add these as they occur. Everyday’s a school day in our house! Do you have any to add? I’m just dying to know what’s to come *sigh*


Joining me this week is the lovely Kirsty from More of Me. Not only is Kirsty’s blog great, she also makes great You Tube videos so be sure to check those out! She’s also the owner of a very beautiful Instagram feed, the kind that make me want to take photography lessons. Anyway, here’s Kirsty great post…


In my totally unstable pregnant mind my child would play only with wooden toys, have bedtime stories in the rocking chair and would be taught words, colours and shapes via toddler flashcards. There would be no TV and most definitely no iPads or other tablet devices, absolutely no way! I was clearly deluded (like most first time mummies probably are).
Fast forward two years later and here I am sat watching my toddler scroll through HIS youtube feed selecting which little clip of utter nonsense he wants to watch next. I’m clearly on my laptop (I’m writing this) and I have this pang of guilt sitting in the pit of my stomach. It’s not overly nice outside but I’m sure a visit to the park or a stroll to feed the ducks would be much more educational for my little man, but in honesty I can’t be bothered, and now I feel guilty again.
Oscar’s sat there in his element because he’s getting to play with the ‘piepad’, he’s none the wiser that the ducks are starving because we haven’t been to visit them and he’s forgotten there’s a park at the end of the road. Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t get the iPad often, usually when he is tired in the afternoons or if by mistake we have left it lying out and he finds it, or if I need to distract him whilst I get something done. For the most part he is happy to play with his toys, in fact he loves it, he loves it when Ian and I get involved and play along with him, the utter joy in his face makes my heart melt.
Sometimes when we’re out and he’s throwing the most epic tantrum I bribe him with my phone. The minute I mention ‘phone’ the tantrum, 9 times out of 10 stops and he’s back to being angel child. I feel guilty about that, why? because I feel like people judge me, I still wonder what people think of me, do they think I am one of those mothers who can’t be bothered to entertain their child so throwing a phone in their face is the answer, do they think that he’s spoilt because he’s ‘getting what he wants’. All of these things make me feel guilty! My Gran rolls her eyes in utter disgust, she thinks technology is a ‘load of nonsense’ in her day kids played outside until supper time. I often question myself, should I allow him at 2 years old to play with these things? I regularly say to my husband that we need to get him out more and I am actively looking for outdoor groups for him to join. I don’t want him to become obsessed with technology so young that nothing else excites him.
Whilst we are nowhere near that stage and the ratio of time playing with his toys more than outweighs the time he gets on the iPad I still feel guilty. Through the guilt though a huge part of me feels like in today’s society it is more accepted and the majority of us allow our children to play with technology in some way. I am not against my son playing with the iPad or my phone, and I am not trying to justify my actions but I do believe there is some value in allowing him to play with the iPad. For example, Oscar is limited to Youtube Kids, it’s a great idea, it means that he can only access content suitable for children, and thankfully he is a huge fan of the nursery rhymes and loves to sing and dance along. He loves watching videos on playdoh, and whilst they may not seem educational, they do in fact help teach him shapes and colours. Through youtube, and I am sure I have touched on this before, his speaking has come on so much from simply listening and repeating.
Aside from all of the above, I do on occasion (like today) feel guilty that I sometimes opt to entertain my son with the iPad but I’m not going to beat myself up about it as really it’s not the end of the world and the reality is, no matter how hard we try to shield them from technology, the future is plagued with it and there’s really no escape. For now I’ll keep it to a minimum.
Do you let your little ones play with technology, if so do you think it’s been beneficial in anyway? Let me know in the comments.
You can find more of Kirsty here…

Blog – http://www.moreofmeblog.co.uk/

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Twitter – http://www.twitter.com/moreofmeblog

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So things were a little sparse around these parts last week. Sorry Mum. Last week was filled with snot (Henry’s), very little sleep, tears (mainly mine at 2am) and shouting (Henry from his bed after I dared leave him alone for a second on the many occasions he was clearly faking sleep). Henry thankfully seems to be on the mend and I’m now feeling marginally refreshed after having a co-parent for the weekend.
But I’m feeling a little behind in the blogging world. After posting Monday-Friday since I took up this little hobby, I’ve now decided that it’s a bit much, as in I’m running out of things to talk about. And some nights it’s nice to spend the evening watching Coronation Street. So I’m now aiming for 2-3 times a week, a little more do-able when my normally routine is thrown off by a newborn-esqe sleep pattern.
Anyway, I don’t have much to report as the weekend was all about recovery. Saturday began with a much needed lie in which meant I felt significantly more like a functioning human.
On Sunday, after a slightly better nights sleep (albeit the result of 3 in a bed) Henry and I retreated downstairs. Last week I bought him his second ‘That’s not my…’ book in an attempt to occupy him in the supermarket. He’s now finally showing an interest in books again after becoming mobile and refusing to sit still long enough for me to get through a page, and is now looking at them rather than solely attempting to consume them – I’ll skip past the fact that there’s a large chunk missing from a page in ‘That’s Not My Puppy’ – so we read together, played and when he was tired had a cuddle and a nap on the sofa. After a tough mum week it was nice to enjoy him again, rather than being at my wits end with exhaustion and feeling like a terrible mother. But we all have those weeks – amiright?!
We then went to my mums for lasagne before coming home for a chilled evening and an early night.
How was your weekend? More exciting than mine?