It’s like Billy Joel said…

Amateur Mommies you're only human

“You’re only human after all.” Wise words from a brilliant man. We tend to forget this when we become parents. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be the perfect mom or dad, to be the biggest supporter and best advocate for our children. We read thousands of blog posts that tell us what to say, what not to say, how to hold our babies, how not to hold our babies, when to change their nappies / formula / daily routines… We try to push so much information into our heads that it often feels like they’re going to explode. But at the end of the day, we are only human and we are going to make mistakes, we’re going to have melt-downs, we’re going to want to kill our kids (probably daily), but we won’t because we do actually love them (deep, deep down).

Since our stint in the hospital, we’ve struggled to get back into our routine with Fletcher, especially our nighttime routine. I suppose he got so used to being held and rocked in the hospital that since we’ve been home, we have struggled to settle him without rocking. So much for sleep training. We were back at square one. Actually, we were somewhere about 25 squares backwards of ‘square one’ because, thrown in with Fletcher’s sudden insistence on being rocked, was a 10-month sleep regression. He also seemed to be making up for lost time (or rather missed meals) and was back to at least two feeds during the night (that’s over and above his bedtime and breakfast bottles).

This meant we’d fight with him from 6:30pm until anywhere between 7:30 and 8:30pm to get him down, then he’d wake between 11:00 and midnight for his first bottle and again between 3:00 and 4:00am for his second bottle, then he’d most likely be awake – like a-bloody-wake – from 5:00am! This meant that we were getting a grand total of about 4 hours sleep a night, if we were lucky. Although it has been steadily, if slowly, improving, this has been our status quo for almost a month and last night, I cracked.

I was up at around 2:00am to give Fletcher a bottle and when he woke up again at 4:00am, I couldn’t believe that he wanted another bottle, but sure enough giving him back his dummy did nothing to settle him – in fact, it seemed to piss him off! He flung my hand away and began screaming in, what can only be described as an aggressive tone. He was mad as hell. I raced to the kitchen (tripping over the dog in the process) to make (and warm) another bottle (because his highness no longer drinks them at room temperature). By the time I got back to his room he was virtually inconsolable. Every time I tried to get the bottle in his mouth, he’d push my hand away. I eventually got the bottle in his mouth and he immediately began to calm down. Until he exploded again and screamed blue murder.

Then I caught a whiff of something and thought, Ok, so that’s why he was so PO’d, he’s got a poo nappy. I whisked him out of his cot and over to his changing mat as only a practiced professional can, ripped open the poppers, pulled open his nappy… Nothing. And then more screaming. That’s when I lost it. I gave him my reply in the same manner he was delivering his – at full volume, “but what is your problem?” I yelled.

At that moment, Becs appeared, bleary-eyed in the doorway with a look of what on the gods’ earth is going on? on her face. I explained he didn’t want his dummy. Or his bottle. Or his nappy changed. And now I was out of answers. She took him from me and held him. Almost immediately, he began to settle. Oh, I thought, a cuddle, that’s what he wants. Why didn’t I think of that? Becs walked across the passage to our room and I searched for his discarded dummy in the carnage that was his cot.

By the time I returned, silently sobbing, to our room, Becs was sitting serenely on the edge of our bed, bouncing with our giant son in her arms. I apologised for my irrational outburst, feeling terribly guilty for having dragged Becs from bed on her night ‘off’ (because she was meant to run this morning – my bad).

The more I thought about my reaction, the angrier I got with myself. Why had I flown off the handle like that? Why had I lost control so completely? And then it struck me. Exhaustion. Did you know, a human being can live longer without food or water than they can without sleep. Ja, I’ll give that a minute to sink in. Once more, you need sleep more than you need food and, as new parents (or parents of sleep-regressing babies/toddlers/kids), we’re getting way less sleep than we’re used to (and probably less than we really need).

I don’t really have a moral for this story, other than perhaps to say: rely on each other – take turns and get a night off, if you can, so you can be a better parent and partner. Also, it’s important to remember that you are actually only human. Cut yourself some slack.

It never rains…

Amateur Mommies stint in hospital

As the age-old saying goes, “it never rains, but it pours.” That saying has never been more true than when applied to kids. If your kid has a runny nose, chances are he’s also taken a spill and bumped his head or scraped his knee. In our case, it’s the combination of cutting teeth and getting sick.

Fletcher’s first tooth was cut in the midsts of a bad bout of bronchitis, so we weren’t sure which symptoms were teeth-related and which were caused by being sick. But let me tell you, that kid had such a time of it! 40º fevers, vomiting, wouldn’t eat or drink anything, terrible lethargy… it was terrifying for us, and I’m sure even more so for him. At least we had the benefit of rationalisation. We’d strip him down to his nappy, put cold facecloths and towels on him, while he screamed blue murder – as if we were pouring boiling oil on him – give him some Calpol or Tensopain for the fever and wait, taking his temperature every 5 minutes and slowly watching the digits creep down.

About three weeks after that, Fletcher started with a nasty cough on the Wednesday evening. As we still had some Pulmicort from his bronchitis, we immediately started nebulising him. On Thursday, his cough was a little better and we thought, yay! Winning! On Thursday afternoon, I got a call from the nanny to say he felt very hot, I asked her to take his temperature and call me back. When she called back to say the temperature was 34º, we knew it had to be a faulty reading and Becs rushed home.

40º.

When I got home about an hour later, his fever had come down to about 38.5º but he’d already vomited and the lethargy had set in. We eventually broke his fever an hour or so later and things returned vaguely to normal. He wouldn’t drink his bottles, but he’d eat. We, once again, relied on rationalisation, the bottle was making him cough, so it’s no wonder he doesn’t want to drink, he’s drinking water though, so I’m sure it’s fine.

Fortunately, Becs was on half-term, so she could stay with him the following day. She kept me updated on his fevers throughout the course of the day, his continued lethargy and his refusal to eat anything, which had now escalated to include not wanting to eat food. But, on the up side, his cough had subsided so we were now fully convinced he was cutting another tooth and he just had supremely shitty teething symptoms.

Saturday gave us a bit of hope – no more fevers, drinking rooibos tea, drinking water and eating little bits of food, he was also displaying signs of having a bit more energy. He slept a lot, but that was to be expected – the kid hadn’t eaten properly in days – but at least he wasn’t in any danger of dehydrating now that he was eating and drinking a bit. We spoke with a range of other parents, who all assured us that we were doing all we could and he’d no doubt be on the mend the next day.

Wrong.

The lethargy was worse on Sunday – no more signs of energy from our normally rambunctious and busy little boy. All he did was whine and cry, never quite happy with where he was. By lunchtime on Sunday we were in the casualty at the local hospital, where we were seen by a lovely doctor who assured us that we had been doing everything right. Well, that’s a relief, at least! The last thing you want to hear is that you’ve been negligent in not bringing your kid in sooner. But at the same time, as a first time parent, you’re weary of over-reacting and rushing to the emergency room at the first sign of a sniffle. Fortunately for us, our paed was on call and already at the hospital, seeing a patient in the paediatric ward. The casualty doctor sent us straight through to see her where she immediately admitted him. With double pneumonia. Worst moms ever!

Our poor little guy was put onto a drip and given a range of antibiotics, antihistamines, anti-every-bloody-thing-you-can-imagine! (So much for the appointment we’d made with the homeopath for the following week.) That evening, the physio came past and gave him a thorough thumping and suctioned the grossness out of his chest (an action that was “rinsed and repeated” throughout our stay). But, the next day, our boy was showing signs of his normal personality. Eating again, although still not interested in bottles, he definitely had more energy, he was giggling and even flirting with the nurses.

By Tuesday morning he was off the drip (in part because he’d pulled it out by mistake). He was eating like Tom Hanks in Castaway but still not keen on his bottles, although Becs had managed to get about 70mls of formula into him during the night. During the day, we continued to try with the bottles and he had a bit more. Often we had to coax him by putting his formula in a cup, rather than a bottle. I suppose it’s the novelty of it that ultimately won out, but he was drinking a far more substantial amount and by Wednesday morning, he’d been discharged.

In the midst of all this, he absolutely did cut his second tooth – like I said, it never rains…

Fletcher is fully recovered and destroying the house once again – crawling around like a speed demon, terrorising the poor cat and running us and the nanny ragged! I think it’s time we strapped those fluffy broom / mop type things to his knees so his manic crawling can, at least, help to get things done around the house.

Sick kids are no joke, but as a parent, you’d be surprised at just how good your instincts are. Back yourself. If you think your kid needs a doctor, take him. If you think he’s OK and it’s just a bit of sinus aggravation / teething / allergies / whatever you think it is, back yourself. But, be reasonable. If it’s been five days and he’s still not showing enough signs of recovery, it’s time to call in the cavalry.

What to pack: Hospital essentials list

Amateur Mommies: what to pack hospital list

When we were getting ready for Fletcher’s arrival, there were so many things to consider. As first-time moms, we didn’t have a clue what we’d need in the hospital – or even how long we’d be there. I read a number of posts across the broad and wide internet about what to pack in our hospital bags, but it was only through trial (and in some cases error) that we found the mix of things that worked for us. What worked for us, might not work for you, but it might inspire a couple of light-bulb moments for you.

Essentials for baby:

  • Cotton buds and surgical spirits for cleaning baby’s cord: we used the baby cotton buds, makes it easier to get in under and around that gross cord stump
  • Size 0 nappies: unless you know for a fact that your little one is a giant or on the petite side, I’d recommend a bag of size 0 nappies. Even though Fletcher was a good sized baby, he was in size 0s for a good week or two after birth
  • Newborn onesies: we packed 3 of each type of onesie in newborn size (vest with short sleeves, vest with long sleeves, full onesie), but we ended up having to go home and get some extras because Fletcher was in NICU for a few days
  • Beanies / hats for baby: we had a couple of hats for our little guy, even though he was born in the height of summer, newborns aren’t able to regulate their body temperatures the way we can, so you need to keep your little one nice and warm
  • Vaseline for baby’s bum: Vaseline makes those first couple of sticky poos a hell of a lot easier to clean
  • Cotton balls / cotton pads: we used (and still use) these with some warm water for Fletcher’s bum – it’s a lot easier on their skin than even the mildest wet wipes (confession: we only use cotton balls for wee nappies these days and we’re a bit slack about keeping the water warm, but he’s 8 months old now, and a real toughie)
  • Fleece blankets, muslin blankets, swaddle blankets, face cloths and / or toweling nappies or “burpie lappies” (aim for at least one of each per day, you never know if your little one will be a tinkler or a refluxy baby that needs a few changes per day)

Essentials for mom:

  • Maternity pads and maternity panties (the sexiest thing you’ll ever wear)
  • If you’re hoping to breastfeed, I’d recommend having a batch of jungle juice on stand-by for the hospital. Just remember you’ll need to keep the bulk of it refrigerated, so if you don’t have a fridge in your room, you might need to arrange for someone to bring it to you each day
  • Rescue Remedy!!!!! I may have been groggy from all the meds they gave me during the birth, but Becs was downing this stuff like nobodies business
  • A few sets of clean PJs – hospital gowns are sexy, but there is nothing better than getting into your own clothes after the birth experience (post-shower obviously)
  • A couple of pairs of comfy pants (with elastic waistbands) and tops (preferably something you can get off without too much drama when baby is a hungry-bungry)
  • Slippers: ain’t nobody got time for real shoes after childbirth!
  • Feeding bras: There are a lot of cheaper options on the market, but I strongly recommend the Carriwell feeding bras, they are by far the most comfortable and the best-fitting feeding bras that I found and are absolutely worth the extra dosh. I’d recommend having 3 feeding bras (one on, one in the wash and one back-up)
  • Toiletries: face wash (nothing has ever felt better), moisturizer, body lotion, shower gel, sponge / shower poof, shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and toothpaste, hair brush and hair ties (if your hair is long enough, clips if it’s not), make-up (if you really fell that way inclined, I did not)
  • Hairdryer – if you’re feeling that way inclined (again, I did not)
  • Your own towel. Some of the hospitals are great, but others give you a hand towel and expect you to be able to dry your whole body with it
  • Copy of your birth plan (but remember, it’s more of a birth “wish list”): you might want to have this on hand to remind your caregivers, other half (and maybe yourself) of what you had in mind

Essentials for dad / other mom:

  • Rescue remedy (trust me, you can never have too much of this stuff)
  • Copies of the important papers you’ll need to register baby’s birth (certified copies of both IDs, marriage certificate, medical aid details, etc.)
  • Black pen for filling in all those legal forms
  • Find out what the process is to register the baby’s birth and to get him / her onto your medical aid and have everything you need to do that
  • If dad / other mom is staying over, don’t forget to have your bag packed too – clothes, PJs (trust me, the nurses don’t need to see you sleeping in your birthday suit), slippers, toiletries, etc.
  • Make sure the car seat is in the car and ready for the return journey home
  • Cash for the hospital coffee shop (sometimes everybody just needs a break from hospital food)

If there is anything else you think should be added to this list, please let us know by commenting below.

Chances are, it’s not colic – but that doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying!

Colic relief on Amateur Mommies

Throughout my life I’ve heard moms talking about their “colicky children” – my own mom has told me countless times how difficult I was as a baby because I had colic – but I never really knew what that meant. When we went to antenatal classes, the antenatal sister told us that colic is when “a child cries for three hours straight, three nights in a row, for three weeks.” My god! I thought, that sounds horrific – those poor parents! She quickly followed that up with a disclaimer: very few children diagnosed with colic actually have clinical colic, according to the definition.

When Fletcher was born we anxiously waited, hoping he wouldn’t display those dreaded symptoms, especially as I had been a “colicky baby”. But, right from birth, he was a superstar. Even in the NICU, he belched like a grown man, and he’s never really suffered from cramps or wind – touch wood. We may have been among the lucky few, but so many of our friends and antenatal classmates weren’t. We heard countless horror stories about babies crying for six hours straight and parents silently praying for their own deaths. These parents had tried everything – tissue salts, tummy massage, Telement drops – you name it. Nothing gave any relief. My heart went out to them, but there was nothing we could do to help, not really. Right?

That’s what I thought. But wondering through Hamely’s one afternoon, scoping out the amazing things we’d always covet but would most likely never be able to afford, we stumbled across a bottle designed to combat colic and cramps – an Dutch brand, called Difrax. My initial feelings were of skepticism, but as I did more research and found people who’d actually used the bottle, I started to buy into the idea. The trick is in the unique design – the bottle itself is S-shaped, with an airflow valve at the base.

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I pinched this pic off the net, but it gives the best description of how it all works

Basically, the valve at the base allows air into the bottle, and the S-shape means that air gathers at the top of the bottle, “pushing” the milk down towards the teat, which is then always submerged in milk, meaning your little one doesn’t swallow any air while drinking. Now, if your child has suffered from tummy cramps you’ll know, air is the devil! It’s those nasty little pockets of air in his / her intestines that cause those terrible cramps. Because they aren’t able to clear that air by burping, it has to work it’s way through their system, which can cause quite serious discomfort. The logic is flawless: no air in, no cramps!

Now, even though Fletcher didn’t have any trouble with his burping, we decided to give one of these bottles a try – just to test out the theory – and the result is undeniable. After a full feed, our normally gassy, belching little champ, didn’t even need to burp! He was as happy as two Larrys. So, my advice to anyone who’s little one is suffering from cramps or colic, is to get yourself down to Hamley’s and get one of these bottles. The results really do speak for themselves.

For they’ll move mountains – call for donations

Amateur Mommies: give back to for they'll move mountains

We were recently approached by an organisation called For They’ll Move Mountains, one dedicated to the care and support of abandoned babies and children. They aim to raise awareness of child and baby abandonment in South Africa and raise the profile of other organisations doing the same, to “lend a helping hand” by getting donations to those in need, and to teach – to “understand and enlighten others” – about the reasons and truths behind child and baby abandonment.

All too often, our instinctual reaction when we hear of child or baby abandonment is one of aberration and disgust. But let’s take a moment to really think about it. As a mother, consider the sheer desperation you must be feeling to even consider abandoning your child. As a parent, think about the pain of actually walking away from that tiny human who you know to be completely dependent on you and your love. Consider what a person’s mind must go through to bring them to that point. And now, re-examine your initial, instinctual reaction.

When Annelize contacted me on Instagram to ask us to please consider helping them, my first thought was, “but what can we do?” But the more I thought about it, the more I realised that we can do a lot. We have a network in the thousands – we have followers, subscribers, friends, family, contacts at organisations with other, larger networks – of course there is something we can do. I believe that everyone needs a purpose, all organisations, forums and foundations need to support something other than (and in many cases, bigger than) themselves. Which is why, we’ve decided that For They’ll Move Mountains will be our official charity – for want of a better word. Any collections or donations we receive will be earmarked for this worthy organisation.

How you can help

For They’ll Move Mountains is doing a donation run for the end of August to donate items to four safe houses around Gauteng and in Cape Town (if possible, for more areas in South Africa as well). If you would like to get involved and support this worthy cause, here are some ways you can make a difference:

Donations

  • For the staff (Annelize has included some context about why the staff are listed)
    • Cupcakes/Treats
    • Pamper items
    • Pretty Packaging
  • For the babies/kids
    • Healthy kids’ snacks
    • Nappies – disposable/cloth
    • Formula
    • Products
    • Clothes
    • Toys
    • Blankets
    • Accessories
    • Play equipment
  • Jumble
    • Cleaning out your closet, spareroom or garage? Why not donate your unwanted jumble?
  •  Funds
    • These funds will be used to buy any of the above mentioned items which have not been donated or not enough of received
    • Money can be donated via EFT – please email hello@fortheyllmovemountains.co.za for details

Drop-off points can be arrange in any of the following areas:

  • Gauteng
    • Randpark Ridge and surrounds
    • Alberton and surrounds
    • Sandton and surrounds
    • Or you can get it to us and we’ll get in touch with Annelize to arrange a drop off
  • Cape Town
    • Brackenfell
  • Courier can be arranged to pick up in any other areas at an additional fee

If you have anything to donate, please contact Annelize by emailing hello@fortheyllmovemountains.co.za.

Please also Like their page on Facebook and follow them on Instagram to keep up to date with the latest needs and activities.

In the spirit of Mandela Day, and in remembrance of Tata Madiba, please think about how you can get involved and support this worthy cause.

… but words will never hurt me

Amateur Mommies: Be anything you want to be

I recently reconnected with a former high school teacher who had a profound impact on me. For whatever reason, I felt compelled to tell her of the impact she’d had on my life and the way her teachings had influenced the person I have become. I wasn’t sure at the time why I felt the need to tell her, but the more I thought about it, the clearer it became. When we’re young, everyone we interact with impacts our lives, and the people we ultimately become are defined by those interactions – good and bad. So often, when someone positively impacts your life, their presence in your life is fleeting and before you realize the impact they’ve had, they’re gone and you never get the chance to thank them. I suppose the same is true for people who negatively impact your life, before you realize the damage they’re causing, they’re gone and you never get an opportunity to confront them.

The cathartic nature of saying thank you prompted me to think a little deeper about the kind of impact I am having, and will continue to have, on Fletcher. There is so much literature at our fingertips these days, thanks to the internet, and our access to that information has made us that much more aware of how our actions are potentially impacting our children. Our parents didn’t think twice about lighting a cigarette with us in the backseat, or about the way they spoke to us and how it might affect our personalities down the line, mostly because they didn’t know to think about it. But the access we have to information compels us to think more deeply about how our actions and words could affect our children. We must think about our tone and our use of language, we must be purposeful about the words we choose to use when disciplining and praising our children.

I remember an incident, about 10 years ago, where a friend asked us to stop commenting on how beautiful her young toddler was because she didn’t want her daughter to only identify as a ‘beautiful girl’. “There is so much more to her,” she explained to us, “and I want her to think of herself as more than just a ‘beautiful girl’, I want her to think of herself as smart and kind, as gentle and loving.” At the time, I was young and didn’t give the conversation much more thought, but as I look back on it now, with the benefit of hindsight and having become a parent myself, those words ring so true. We have to be careful not to pigeon-hole our children as ‘beautiful’ or as ‘such a clever boy’. We have a duty to make sure they are conscious of all the facets of themselves and aware of all of their potential. We can look back at our parents’ generation and say, “yes, but they didn’t think about these things, and look at me, I turned out fine.” But if someone had taken the time to make you fully aware of your potential, do you not think you might have done some things a little differently. If your childhood had been built on “you’re beautiful” and “you’re kind, smart and brave”, would you still have made exactly the same decisions? Would you still do the same thing for a living, or might you have pursued your childhood dream to be a fireman, or a fighter pilot?

Yes, our parents didn’t do it, and we all turned out fine. But our parents didn’t know any better. We do.

Actually, I can wait

Amateur Mommies: Actually, I can wait

Over the years, I’ve heard so many moms and dads throw out the phrase, “I can’t wait for…” or “I can’t wait until he/she can…” I’ve done it, too. I remember saying how I couldn’t wait until he could smile, or until he could go down for a nap without having to be winded. And of course, those milestones are so special when you reach them. I can clearly remember the first time Fletch smiled at us, and how glad I was that we were together for it. He was on his changing mat and at first we both thought it was gas, but we smiled and cooed at him nonetheless, and were pleasantly surprised when he returned our smiles with another dashing, gummy smile of his own. Instant. Melted. Hearts. Everywhere. Needless to say, we were over the moon about him reaching the milestone, but I wouldn’t trade the five or six smile-free weeks leading up to it for anything in the world.

Since then, I’ve been purposeful about not wishing his precious little life away with “can’t waits” because actually, I can wait! He’s only little for such a short time and that time is so precious. Every day when I get home from work, I swear he’s changed. Every morning when I peer over the edge of his cot at him and his little face bursts into a gummy smile with arms and legs flailing frantically to be picked up, I swear he’s grown. I look back at photos and videos on my phone and think, “ah remember that outfit” and “look how big it was on him.” Then I remember that we’ve already handed that outfit down to friends, or packed it away incase baby number 2 is a boy, and I marvel at how time has flown.

I know, I know, it’s such a cliché, but time really does fly! We get so caught up in the day-to-day. We focus on getting through the week and cramming the weekends with as many activities as possible, seeing as many people as we can, that we forget to stop and enjoy the moment we’re in – right now. When I get home from work, the afternoons and evenings are a whirlwind of cuddles, suppertime, tummy time (which Fletcher hates more than anything), bath time and the bedtime routine. I’m often so focused on what the clock says that I miss the moments happening all around me. I miss the fact that Fletcher has started recognizing our cat, and has completely fallen in love with him (much to Toothless’s disgust). I miss that he is suddenly interested in everything and anything – from your teacup, to the spice rack and curtains blowing in the wind. I miss the fact that he’s pretty much sitting unsupported (albeit a bit unsteadily sometimes). I miss the fact that he has now mastered rolling from his tummy to his back in both directions. I miss things – we all do – every single day because we’re so focused on the next thing we have to do, that we overlook the beauty of the thing we’re doing right now. 

When you become a parent, you are totally inundated with (mostly unsolicited) advice, but if you only take one piece of advice from me, please let it be this: stop wishing away your journey with “can’t waits” and “I wishes”. Enjoy the moments you’re in when you’re in them, because I promise you one thing, you will never be in those moments again – they are so fleeting. Take all the midnight wakings and chalk them up to a few extra precious moments with your tiny human. Force yourself to actively participate in every activity. Put your phone down, that text can wait, and put yourself in that moment! And enjoy it.

Has it been 6 months already?!

Amateur Mommies: 6 months in

It’s hard to believe, but our little man is six months old already. Six months ago on Friday, Fletcher was born. As we went through our busy weekend routine this past weekend, thoughts kept popping to my head, like: six months ago, we were sitting in the NICU counting the hours until Christmas, hoping against hope that our little boy would be home for his first Christmas. And six months ago we were going home, leaving Fletcher in the NICU.

Six months ago today, Fletcher came home, so we have officially been full-time parents for six months today. It’s one of those paradoxes of time – “has it only been six months?” but at the same time, “woah, it’s been six months already?!” In that time, so many things have happened. Our little boy has grown and changed in unimaginable ways. When we look back at the photos of that time in the NICU and those first few days at home, it’s hard to believe it’s the same little guy. He’s grown into this absolute thug of a human – way above average in height and weight and strong and sturdy! A real rugby forward in the making (or ballerina, or scientist, or whatever he wants to be!).

Over the last six months, Becs and I have come along in leaps and bounds too. Six months and five days ago, I’d never changed a poo nappy, and now I’ve changed two just this morning! Six months ago, I thought I’d still be breastfeeding him when he was six months old, and we all know how that worked out. Six months ago, we were floundering along, with little-to-no clue what we were doing, and now we’re bounding along with a moderate clue that maybe we’re doing OK. Motherhood is a tricky thing, you never know at the time if what you’re doing is right – I mean we thought we were doing the right thing in swaddling him, and that worked out dismally. But, when you do get something right (and we must be getting something right, because Fletcher is a rockstar of a human), it is so gratifying, so rewarding, to know that you are (at least in part) responsible for shaping the awesome little being in front of you.

Six months down the line, I’d hardly call myself an expert. I still question every decision we make a thousand different ways. I still look to Becs and ask, “do you think I should…” instead of confidently saying, “I’m going to…” almost every time because I want the reassurance that her agreeing with me brings. We both lean on each other through difficult times and we both fall down some times, but at the end of the day, it’s all been such an incredible experience and one I wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

SA Mom Blogs Guest Post

amateur mommies on sa moms blog

Between training for an ultramarathon, a full-time job and being a mom to a rambunctious 6-month old, my days are pretty full. Most days start at 04:30, either because I need to be at running at 05:00 or because our little bundle of joy has decided that’s a good time to wake up (often for the 5th time). My wife and I are both keen runners (although she’s a lot more sane than I am and has no desire to run further than 21kms – yet), so we take turns, running on alternate mornings and on our early mornings “off”, we’re on mom-duty. We’re blessed to have a wonderful nanny who looks after our son while we’re keeping the economy ticking over. When I get home it’s a whirlwind of playtime, suppertime, bath time, bedtime and getting dinner ready for us. Once our little man is down for the night, my wife and I are purposeful about connecting as a couple – talking through our day, chatting about ideas we’ve had to grow our “empire-in-the-making” and sitting down to a meal together. Read the full post here.

Sleep? Ja, we still don’t know what that is

Amateur Mommies on lack of sleep

About two months ago I started seeing all these posts online from friends with kids around Fletcher’s age about a “four month sleep regression”. I joked that Fletcher had never progressed to sleeping in stretches longer than 4 hours, so how much could he realistically regress? The answer was a lot. After two weeks of him waking every one to two hours, we introduced solids, hoping that would help. It didn’t.

When we felt we couldn’t take it anymore, I reached out to friends who had successfully parented their little ones into (and in some cases, beyond) toddler-hood for advice. The advice was varied. One mom suggested sleep training. Another suggested bringing him back into our room, or even our bed, until he was more settled. Yet another said she didn’t have a clue, her four year old still wasn’t sleeping through. She did however suggest shifts – one night on, one night off – so at least you’re getting a less disturbed sleep every second night, meaning (in most cases) you can continue to function and (in some cases) make a valued contribution to society.

The friend who suggested sleep training shared the book she’d used to sleep train her little boy and I immediately immersed myself in it. Having read the pertinent sections, one Sunday evening after an exhausting weekend of very little sleep we decided to bite the bullet. We’d always been pretty good with Fletcher’s bath time / bed time routine, so that was fairly well established, but the biggest thing we were doing wrong was rocking him to sleep, meaning he was reliant on being rocked to fall asleep. This was a two-fold problem: 1) it meant we had to get up and settle him every time he woke during the night and 2) he was now so big that it was uncomfortable for him (and bloody difficult for us) to rock him.

That night we gave him his bath, his massage and his nighttime bottle as normal, but this time instead of rocking him to sleep, we put him into his cot, swaddled him (yes, we were still doing that), switched off the light and left. He was not happy. He cried with varying degrees of fervor for what seem like an age. We regularly went back into his room, as the book said to do, to reassure him that everything was fine, to soothe him a bit and repeat the catch-phrase, “it’s night-night time.” Eventually he did fall asleep and we rejoiced! It was, however, short-lived. When he woke a few hours later, we made sure he was comfortable, swaddled with his dummy in and duly repeated the process of letting him “learn to settle himself”.

It’s now about a month-to-six-weeks later and things are (mostly) going better. We’ve finally managed to ditch the swaddle, and that happened entirely organically and literally over night. One night he was fine being swaddled, the next night when we tried to swaddle him, he resisted, vehemently. So we left him unswaddled and he slept. Some nights are better than others. On Monday night he slept from 6pm until 3am and only really niggled once, early in the evening. Last night he woke at 10pm, 11pm, 1am, 4am and 5am, and at 5:45 he was awake for real.

Every night is different and I suppose that’s the challenge. As soon as you think you’ve got it waxed, life throws you a curve ball and you have to reset your entire process. I can however tell you that the addition of solids did sweet FA for his sleeping, so anyone who tells you that giving them solids will help them sleep better is filling you with false hope. Fletcher eats his body weight every day in vegetables, fruits, yoghurt, Kiri Cheese and lentils and still does whatever he feels like at night. The only thing solids has done is increased our nappy requirements because he’s gone from being a one-a-day poo’er to three, and sometimes even four times a day.

Honestly, the best advice I can you is this: when you’re bouncing through parenthood’s uncertainties, rely on your support network – whether it’s your partner, your parents or siblings, your friends or a bunch of strangers on a Facebook group. Use those people for advice, tap into their knowledge, vent your frustrations to them and lean on them when you need it, because – trust me – you’ll need it.