Mum Again

Help, I'm having a(nother) baby!

Hi, it’s me

So I decided late last night that I was going to start a new blog. I even wrote the first post, but as I went to save it (I write all my posts in Word prior to publishing), Microsoft decided to crash and refuse to recover the document. So here I am, 12 hours later, trying to write a second introductory post to a blog that I never really saw myself writing.

I am using the title “Mum Again”, because I am about to become a mum… again, quite straight forward right? I am already a mum, but as far as I can remember, being the mum of a baby differs very much to that of parenting someone who is closer to ten than they are to just having been born.

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Bullying, the Aftermath and an Anxious 8 Year Old

I hate Mondays. I never used to, in fact I always quite liked them, saw them as more of a fresh start than the start of another long week. A reason to be positive. It has been a few years since I felt that way. Less than two weeks ago my daughter went back to school after her school holiday. There has been exactly 8 days of school since then, of which she has missed 2 and ½.

Aimee thrives at school academically speaking. She has just started her 4th year of primary school and she has yet to meet an academic hurdle that she couldn’t (easily) conquer. Socially speaking things are quite different.

When Aimee turned 5 she couldn’t wait to start school, in fact she was quite desperate for school to start. There was a little bit of nerves, but who doesn’t experience a bit of nerves when they first start something new? By the time the Christmas holidays came around, my daughter’s personality had completely changed. It started with one of the children in her class. My daughter is a very literal person, and she is also and always has been very concerned with doing what’s right and not getting into trouble, sometimes a bit too much so. This child would continually tell my daughter that if she didn’t do what the child wanted her to they would tell the teachers something to get Aimee into trouble. Essentially one five-year-old found a way to blackmail another five-year-old and decided to take advantage of it, severely damaging my child in the process.

Continue reading “Bullying, the Aftermath and an Anxious 8 Year Old”

Gender Equality, the POV of a Mum

holding hands

It might be a cliché, but becoming a mum is the single most important thing that has happened to me. Nothing has changed me or shaped me as much as the responsibility, love and just absolute fear that comes with being a parent. Because it is scary, and do not let anyone else ever tell you differently. It is an absolutely terrifying feeling to live in the knowledge that you are in a position whereby it is your responsibility to not just get your children through the day somewhat clean, fed and alive, but actually raise them into being decent human beings.

When I had my daughter, once I got past the initial utter terror that is, what was initially reinforced in my mind was just how important it would be for my daughter that I raised her to know that she could do anything. You are treated differently in life dependent on whether or not you have a vagina and I very much doubt that I have any female friends or acquaintances that has not at one point or another been treated differently because they are female. It might have been something just dumb and ignorant like being accused of being on your period because you were upset or angry about something or it might have been something life altering like not getting the promotion you wanted because you have ovaries and might at some point reproduce. The sad part is that we as parents will often start the trend of treating our children differently based on gender.

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I Couldn’t Breastfeed… and That’s OK

It felt like throughout my pregnancy, whenever I walked through any room in a hospital or at the GP Surgery the only thing I noticed was the constant bombardment of “Breast is Best” posters plastered over every wall. It didn’t stop there, it was mentioned in every e-mail, every newsletter, anything I had signed up to in regards to my pregnancy seemed to be screaming at me that my baby should be breastfed, and I really better had just accept it.

I wanted to breastfeed. In fact, I started out with the very best intentions to do so. I had even purchased a breast pump, because in my previous pregnancy my daughter refused to latch on, and so I spent months expressing my breast milk so that she could have the “best possible start”. If my son was to be as difficult as she had been, I wanted to be prepared for the eventuality that I would have to express in order to feed my baby yet again. What I couldn’t prepare for was the fact that my milk just didn’t come in, and I had to make the extremely difficult decision to give up and give my baby formula.

Continue reading “I Couldn’t Breastfeed… and That’s OK”

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